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Name: Tamare "Rada" Na Zhalos Species: Half-Theelin Age: 19 Rank/Title: Padawan (Liturgist-in-training) Planet of Origin/Birth: Coruscant Force Sensitive Y/N: Y Appearance:
Heir to the blue hair, golden eyes and pale, delicate beauty that can be found in many Theelin and half-Theelin, Tamare's looks were shaped, not only by the gifts of genetics, but also by a childhood spent in the Coruscant underworld, and an adolescence under his permissive Jedi Master, Koryan Lyu. He grows his hair long, and combs it stylishly, with no regard for the customs of the Jedi Order. His physique is slender, with long limbs and torso, and only mildly toned by the years of training. He is not particularly tall by human standards, standing at 1.79 meters, but what he lacks in physical grandeur he makes up for in litheness. As he grew older, Tamare's Master allowed him to express himself with a modicum of freedom through his attire, to the point of eventually letting him abandon the Jedi robes in their entirety. Instead, he began to wear more casual and fashionable pieces of clothing popular in the Uscru Entertainment District, including his now trademark gold and dark fuchsia pullover, his short multicoloured leather jacket, his black military pants, his long grey-blue leather boots, and his feathered scarf, that he normally hangs from his utility belt to conceal his lightsaber beneath. Perhaps the most important piece of clothing, however, would be the necklace he always wears around his neck. It combines an old Theelin talisman Tamare's mother gave him as a child, made in a brown metal, with a silvery amulet that his Master gifted to him when he learned to speak Bothese fluently.
Skills/Abilities/Talents/Training:
- Exceptional Memory: The capacity to easily remember even the smallest details of old memories, or vast amounts of abstract information, has always been Tamare's greatest blessing and curse. It was a blessing from the Force, as far as the Jedi Order was concerned, because it made him a promising candidate for becoming a Jedi Lore Keeper or Researcher. But for the half-Theelin boy born and raised in the undercity, it meant that he could never forget the many horrors he witnessed, nor the grudges born from those he himself suffered. Be that as it may, this seemingly inborn talent of his has proven to be useful in many contexts, ranging from mere academic studies to lightsaber combat training, giving him a great advantage over most people when it comes to being almost perfectly aware of one's surroundings and knowing what to expect, and what reaction is expected from one. - Comprehend Speech: Master Lyu was deeply enamored with his work as a Jedi Liturgist, and he devoted most of his efforts as Tamare's Master to instilling in his Padawan this same fascination. In particular, he trained Tamare to use the Force to understand the many foreign languages they did not or could not study in the Jedi Temple. - Polyglotism: As a child, Tamare had already demonstrated an unusual ability to learn different languages while living in the streets. After he was admitted into the Jedi Order, his Master took advantage of this talent and, over the course of the years that followed, tried to teach him as many languages as he could. By the time of Master Lyu's disappearance, Tamare could speak four languages with fluency (Bothese, Cheunh, Kaleesh and Togruti), had a basic grasp of three more (Durese, Huttese and Sullustese), and could comprehend some Droidspeak and Shyriiwook without using the Force. These days, he continues his studies on his own, immersed in the vast wealth of knowledge on philology left behind by previous liturgists. - Art of Movement: Although his Master was a man more inclined towards academic endavours than physical training, Tamare's past experiences moving around the chaotic jungle that is the undercity made it easier for him to learn the Jedi Art of Movement, which allows him to move through enviroments with agility and dexterity, occasionally with assistance from the Force. - Ataru-style Saber Combat: As much of a pacifist as Master Lyu was, he did not shirk his responsibilities when it came to teaching his Padawan the art of lightsaber combat. While he treated it less as a proper form of fighting than as a stylish choreographic display, his Padawan's education in the Way of the Hawk-Bat was intense and constant, with emphasis placed on precision and agility. Tamare took his Master's teachings on saber combat to heart, and to this day he practices his "dancing" with the due commitment.
Flaws/Limitations:
- Undisciplined: Koryan Lyu was a notoriously unorthodox, and often excessively lenient Jedi Master. It should therefor come as no surprise that Tamare did not learn much in terms of self-restraint or abiding by the customs of the Jedi Order under his care. Tamare is disorganised, easily distracted, nonchalant about other people's expectations, and slow to obey. This can make him an unreliable team member in many circumstances, and it is often best for everyone involved to let him work on his own, and at his own pace. - Unready for Battle: Master Lyu was more interested in languages and literature than he was in the art of war, and ultimately his Padawan followed in his footsteps in this regard. Tamare received little to no education in tactics and strategies, and the training he received in the art of lightsaber combat treated it, not as a form of warfare, but rather as an elaborate choreography. Because of this, Tamare's lightsaber technique is graceful, swift and precise, but he was not taught how to improvise with it when dealing with unexpected threats. He can use his blaster with a modicum of speed, but not with enough accuracy during split-second decisions. His understanding of the Force has enhanced his capacity to learn quickly and remember easily, but when it comes to violent uses of the Force he is average at best. In short, Tamare is in no way physically or mentally prepared for the perils of war. - Spice baby: Children born to spice abusers have commonly been associated with an innate proclivity to spice consumption, as well as neurological disorders of varying gravity, although some Jedi researchers have claimed that there is also a correlation between prenatal spice exposure and increased Force sensitivity. Tamare is, unfortunately, no exception. Both his father and mother were addicted to spices and death sticks, and their vices left their first son a sickly child, prone to erratic behaviour and manic episodes. After making the boy his Padawan, Master Lyu managed to help Tamare improve his mental and physical health through meditation, and taught him to channel his bursts of mental hyperactivity into a heightened Force sensitivity. However, this stability in Tamare's condition was brought to a sudden end by Master Lyu's disappearance. In the weeks that followed, Tamare began to sporadically consume spices and suffer from mental hyperactivity again. He became increasingly obsessed, eventually to an unhealthy degree, with finding his lost Master. These days, though the worst of the meltdown has passed, he is still tormented by bursts of manic desperation and a thirst for spice he cannot bring himself to quench, which adds another distraction to his already undisciplined mind.
Equipment:
- Blue-bladed curved-hilt lightsaber - Datapad - Utility belt - Hold-out blaster pistol
Psych profile:
On the outside, the boy from the Coruscant underworld who grew to be Master Lyu's Padawan may seem quiet and contemplative to most, a secretive person who keeps his thoughts and emotions to himself, and avoids confrontations when possible. Growing up in the undercity, Tamare learned the value of silence as a tool for survival, and as a liturgist's Padawan he was taught to use words with care. However, when he does speak, most of those who listen think him immature, spoiled and distant, and not without good reason. Master Lyu doted on Tamare, in part because it was in his nature, but also because he pitied the boy for his troubled past and poor health, and this had no small effect on Tamare's character as he grew older. He became disrespectful, albeit never maliciously so, and paid little attention to anybody other than his Master, or anything other than his studies. While not vainglorious in the least, he was unwilling to compromise when it came to personal matters, and at times showed overt disdain towards some of his fellow Padawans. Beneath this public persona, however, Tamare is first and foremost a frightened child and a grown cynic, who conceals his pains and insecurities deep within a sick spirit as he desperately tries to fulfill his self-given purpose. He constantly struggles with his self-perceived weakness, as well as the very real temptation to lose himself in spices and death sticks. When he is not trying to advoid following in the footsteps of his parents, he is loathing them in silence for their own weakness. Only his Master was ever able to gaze upon this side of him, and though his efforts helped bring Tamare a modicum of comfort and strength of character, his work was left incomplete, and ultimately undone, by his sudden disappearance. Without the man who raised him and trained him, Tamare is lost. The connection with the light side of the Force, that Master Lyu help him build, keeps him safe from going down a darker path, but the sudden solitude, after spending the latter half of his life under the loving care of his Master, is a constant torment. He continues his training on his own by listening to his Master's recorded lectures on his datapad. The sound of Koryan's voice comforts him, and the wisdom he imparts through it gives him purpose, but at the same time it fosters his growing obsession. Now that he is alone, Tamare feels that Koryan Lyu was, for all purposes, his whole life, the only thing that kept him away from the perils of the underworld, the only thing that came close to resembling a home. Therefor, every day he muses, he plans, and he follows the flimsiest leads. Finding his Master is now the thing he cares about the most now, the glimmer in the distance that drives him forward, towards the Mandalorian Wars. A part of him believes that his Master may have fled the Jedi Order to fight the Mandalorians in the Outer Rim, while another tells him that, even if he has not, the Outer Rim is his best chance of finding clues, and fighting the cruel Mandalorians is what his Master would have expected of him.
History:
Nineteen years ago, a pale woman with blue hair lay squirming and moaning on an old hospital bed covered in soot and mold, breathless. Her heart frantically beat to the rythm of the undying machinery of this sunless city. A human hand covered in scars and filth clutched hers, almost as pale as hers, for it had been dwelling in the deep darkness of this forsaken place for its entire life. His whispers and her cries were drowned out by the mechanical cacophony beyond the walls of the clinic, a music of the lifeless, the artificial. In this sunless city, the only times you heard the sound of life were the times when it was being tormented, or ended. Hours passed by, a tired Kiffar nurse their only occasional company, and the endless night seemed to only grow longer. Then, the long, painful wait was over. A child was brought to the galaxy, as beautiful as its mother, and as quiet as its father. A boy with a weak body and a stubborn spirit. Tamare, his father named him. An ignorant bastardisation of an old, proper name in a tongue from a far-away system, but it would do. The Coruscant underworld was no place for sucklings. Vermin, monsters, and monsters in the skin of sapient beings ruled over the dark, narrow alleys, that seemed to swallow all those who dared passed through them, the rusting grand machines that the world above had forgotten, the pipes clogged with corpses, both old and new, and the run-down apartments where outlaws dreamed of reaching the light above through the blood of the weak. The boy lived, however, and he grew. In time, he learned, and then he climbed upwards. A shrewd little urchin, a well-spoken and mild-mannered murderer once said to his parents, his gloves covered in dried blood, as they watched the boy sitting atop a metallic tower, many feet closer to the light above than the other children of the undercity. His parents did not take pride in that. They could never take pride in bringing a child to this world of foul shadows, or raising an urchin, however clever their urchin was. They could never take pride in having their spice-tainted blood course through the veins of an innocent, preserving their curse for another generation. So consumed were they by their own demons, that they never realised that their son he had been able to understand the cries of a Rodian whore as she was being tortured in an alley, behind the ruin they called "home", despite the fact that their sweet, sickly Tamare could not speak Rodese. Tamare lived through seven years of darkness before he finally found a way to the world above, after quietly searching for it in solitude while his parents lay recovering from a night spent in the company of spice and death sticks. He went alone, for he had learned not to trust the other children. He had seen children in the alleys, far more vicious than most grown outlaws, crushing each other's skulls over the flesh of plump rats, picking up old flasks of cheap adulterated spice to quench their innate thirst, and imitating the cruelest outlaws in games that always ended in bloodshed and promises of vengeance. The world he found above had little sunlight. Most of its light was artificial, colourful, and it was as dizzying as it was exhilarating. The sound in this world had life in it, with laughter aplenty. There was no machinery to conceal the lively voices of those who walked past the clubs, theatres and hotels. He saw no small amount of thieves, slythmongers and crooks, but here they masked themselves. He saw no bloodied limbs being displayed on the streets as a warning, or mothers screeching for the children they had lost to disease, cruel men, or their own madness. It was there, on the streets of the Uscru Entertainment District, where Tamare first felt it, a nameless entity, incomprehensible for his young mind, yet somehow familiar. It was powerful, and overwhelming so, to the point of making him lose all notion of where he was. For an instant, he thought he had glimpsed an image, a sight through somebody else's eyes, but it was gone in the blink of an eye, and he was kneeling on the floor as this bright new world passed by in a frenzy once again. For two years, the life of the boy with blue hair and golden eyes was divided between sneaking through the shadows of the undercity, every day an ordeal to avoid the most horrifying deaths, and skittering through the lights of Uscru, just basking in the maddening sights and noises, and collecting trinkets, his parents none the wiser about his escapes. He lost himself completely in his explorations, never speaking to any strangers in Uscru, even those that seemed friendly, nor to his neighbours in the undercity, having long since learned the value of silence. Nobody made enemies out of those who said nothing. Tamare sated his growing curiosity about the universe beyond the underworld by watching and listening to the pedestrians, the pickpockets and the slythmongers. With every new fragment of knowledge, his thirst for more grew, and with that thirst the energy he had felt the first time he reached Uscru felt closer and closer to him, until he began to constantly have his thoughts interrupted by visions of what was happening around him. He saw how assassins neared their targets, how prostitutes stealed from their clients, how bartenders lied to agents of the Coruscant Security Force, and how some people felt an excruciating hunger Tamare knew all too well as they passed by the slythmongers, all through their own eyes. Uscru became his home, the place where death seemed too distant for him to fear it with every step he took. All changed soon after Tamare turned nine years of age, as he sat on a dark corner by a theatre in Uscru, marveling over a playbill for a classic play being performed inside. Comfortable in his solitude, and engrossed by the words and the colours printed on the plastic and paper, at first he did not feel the orange eyes that were staring at him, or the mind behind them. It was only when he suddenly caught a glimpse of himself from afar that he realised somebody had noticed him at last, an event he had been dreading since he had first stepped onto Uscru. The half-Theelin's golden eyes searched for this person, and soon he found himself staring at a tall Togruta, with dark red and white skin, and white and blue montrals. He wore a brown robe, and his face was that of an adult, albeit a relatively young one. As the Togruta walked towards him, he gave Tamare a small smile, one behind which Tamare found no malice. The Togruta stood above Tamare for a moment, gazing down at him in silence, before kneeling. He placed a large red hand over Tamare's knee, and began to speak, his voice soft. He asked for his name, his age, his place of birth, whether he knew what the Togruta was, and since when he had been able to delve into the minds of others. Tamare only gave him silence at first. Words could become death in the underworld, he knew, and as nonthreatening as this Togruta was, Tamare did not trust him. He remained unmoving, his eyes upon the Togruta's. He seemed hurt by that, but his tone remained soft as he told Tamare his name and rank. He was called Koryan Lyu, and he was a Jedi Master. He asked again, and this time Tamare nodded shyly, and muttered his name and age, barely parting his lips as he did so. He then pointed below with a dirt-covered finger, and the Jedi understood. Master Lyu spoke to him for a while longer, his smile never vanishing as he talked of the Force, Force sensitivity, and having grown up in a downtrodden neighbourhood himself, and with the same powers as Tamare. He then departed, leaving Tamare with a credit chip and the promise that they would meet again the following week. The Jedi Master kept his promise, much to the untrusting Tamare's expectations, as the two met once again on the same corner near the theatre. This time, the Jedi Master brought treats and a hologram that spoke about the Force, both of which the boy relished with joyous awe. This time, Tamare spoke a handful of words more, speaking about the underworld and asking questions about the Jedi, and as they parted he allowed Koryan to hold his hand for a few seconds as farewell. Over the course of six months, Tamare and Koryan continued to meet on Uscru, a bond slowly forming between the two as they learned more about each other. In time, Koryan began to speak about rectruiting Tamare, while the boy tried to prove his power by translating what nearby pedestrians said. His quiet, suspicious exterior slowly chipped away by the nonchalance beneath Koryan soft tone, Tamare soon became fascinated with the Jedi Master, and the life of the Jedi as he described it. On the end of the sixth month, Koryan made his decision, and accompanied Tamare to the undercity one last time. There he told his parents that their son would become a Jedi, a decision both of Tamare's parents reacted to with tears of joy and regret. Joy, because their only son would be taken away from the darkness they had raised him in, and regret, because their spice abuse had driven their son away and left him with scars. Leaving all his possessions behind, save for the gifts Koryan had given to him over the course of their meetings, a suddenly conflicted Tamare left the underlevels for the last time. Koryan Lyu's decision to recruit an urchin from the lower levels was met by his fellow Masters with skepticism. Though Tamare showed irrefutable signs of Force sensitivity, and Koryan attested to his speech comprehension with enthusiasm, many felt his upbringing and glaring personality flaws would make him difficult, if not outright impossible to train. As a Jedi Initiate, Tamare did not quite prove the other Masters wrong. Indeed, though he did show some promise, and there were no visible signs him being at risk of falling to the dark side of the Force, he was moderately antisocial at best, and frustratingly unruly at worst. He passed most tests with no more visible effort than most, but struggled when it came to working with his fellow younglings, or during tests that demanded close attention and discipline. It was only after Koryan Lyu, going against custom, began to personally tutor him during their free time that Tamare was deemed ready to be raised to the rank of Padawan. It was upon both Koryan and Tamare's stubborn insistence that the Jedi Council agreed to place Tamare under Koryan's tutelage as Master and Padawan, their personal bond unbroken during Tamare's time as an Initiate. As Master Lyu became fully dedicated to making Tamare a true Jedi, they grew even closer. Being a Liturgist, Koryan had spent most of the previous years in the Jedi Temple, studying ancient tongues in the Archives, and only occasionally did field work, visiting distant systems to add new dialects to the Archives. In that regard, he focused his efforts in giving Tamare a rich academic education, mostly to give the boy an outlet for his talents, and to give them an enviroment as devoid of stress as possible. More practical endeavours were cast aside, Koryan seeing them as potential triggers for his fragile Padawan. In the years that followed, Koryan's efforts bared fruit. While Tamare did not befriend any of his fellow Padawans, he did begin to open his mind to his Master, until the two of them became comfortable with having their thoughts and feelings read by the other. Their joint meditations brought them closer, and gave the boy peace of mind. He learned to control his powers and his temptations, and his training in the Way of the Hawk-Bat strengthened his body. As time passed, there were but a few incidents, most of them minor, while Tamare learned new languages and joined his Master during some of his research trips to the Outer Rim. As Tamare traversed through his teenage years, Koryan became more and more doting, giving him the nickname "Rada", after a type of bird from Shili, and allowing him to abandon the Padawan robes in favour of a more personal outfit. On occasion, the two would visit Uscru together, and spend a night or two distracting themselves from their life in the Temple, either by going to the theatre or visiting a club. The relationship between Tamare and his Master raised a significant amount of eyebrows in the Jedi Order as the half-Theelin neared his coming of age, as some Masters worried that Koryan had allowed his fondness for the youth to blind him from his duties as a Jedi Master. Although he repeatedly proved himself to be academically brilliant, and capable enough on the field, many were not sure he was ready for Knighthood, given how he still lacked real combat experience, and he was rumoured to have run away from the Temple whenever he lost control of his disorders. Tamare finally had his first and, as of yet, only real fight as a Jedi shortly after turning sixteen, when he accompanied Koryan and other Jedi Liturgists on a mission to study an ancient variant of the High Galactic language in a planet near Hutt Space. There, while visiting and archaeological site, they were attacked by Hutt-funded treasure hunters. During that battle, Tamare proved his worth as a Padawan, using his gifts to control the flow of battle, using his telepathy and memory to keep their enemies at bay, fending off their attacks with swift precision, and lead them towards the perfect spots for a counter-offensive. When the dust settled, he had captured one of the treasure hunters, and maimed another two. Tamare and Koryan's return to Coruscant was marked by the appearance of a sudden tension in their relationship, one that none of their fellow Jedi could comprehend. Although they still spent most of their daily lives in each other's company, it was said that, for some reason, Koryan had barred Tamare from reading his mind again. Tamare's training continued, as usual, but even after the fight against the treasure hunters he was still far away from becoming a Jedi Knight, even by his Master's own admission. Frustrated, Tamare devoted himself all the more to philology, and two years later, at long last, he voiced his intention to become a Liturgist and work alongside his Master for the rest of his life, a commitment that seemed to alleviate the strain in their relationship, and persuaded the Jedi Council to allow Tamare to go through his first trial of Knighthood. Tamare's Trial of Skill was formidable, pitting him against a simulacrum of a pair of particularly vicious Sith Lords, but he ultimately succeeded in overcoming both, getting him one step closer to becoming a Jedi Knight, after years of stagnation. The trial over, Master and Padawan began to prepare for the Trial of Courage that would inevitably follow, spending more time in meditations to ensure Tamare would be able to resist fear and live through whatever the Council would decide... but, for Tamare, the second trial would never come. Nobody quite knew what to make of it, and theories ran rampant through the Order when it happened. The only certainty was this: In the middle of a short mission to Corellia, Master Koryan Lyu had vanished, leaving nothing behind but his own shocked Padawan. Nobody within the research party that had accompanied them knew what had happened, and only vague, and often conflicting rumours, were what they got from the inhabitants of Coronet, where they had been staying. Many claimed they had seen him being taken by bounty hunters in a club. Others said that he had drowned himself in the sea. The only one that felt true to the grief-stricken Tamare, however, was the claim that he had ran away, to fight the Mandalorians. Whichever rumour was true, however, the truth of the matter was that Tamare had lost his master, and for the first time in a decade he had nobody to turn to. Once he returned to the Temple, Tamare did not leave his chambers for days, and when he eventually did, it was only to spend weeks in the Archives, where he alternated between continuing his studies and searching for clues of his Master's whereabouts. With no way to know if Koryan was ever going to return, the Jedi Council could not bring itself to assign a new Master for Tamare, nor force him to go through the Trial of Courage. In the months that followed, Tamare's behaviour became far more erratic and antisocial than ever before. He only ever spoke to Liturgists, and only rarely. He showed less and less interest in continuing his training with the passage of time, and as news of the atrocities committed by the Mandalorians reached the Temple in Coruscant, his devotion to the Order seemed to slip away with them. It could be said that Revan's call to arms saved Tamare from losing himself completely, and the risks that such a thing would have entailed. Though he had never met Revan in person, Tamare's Master had mentioned the rogue Jedi in the past, and in its desperation his spirit instinctly clinged to the hope that, somehow, the Revanchist movement could lead him to Koryan Lyu. The galaxy was burning, and his Master was probably out there, fighting the Mandalorian scourge in the name of justice, and his Padawan could do no less than follow. So it was that Tamare, a half-Theelin Padawan, came to join IRSOG...
Relationships and Acquaintances:
(Work in progress)
The Esperantist Commune is accepted.
Milkman
Thanks! I'll try to post as soon as possible.
Nation's History
When speaking about the history of the Esperantist Commune, one would do well to distinguish between the history of the diverse people who inhabit it, the history of the wondrous mechanical metropolis that is at the heart of it, and the history of the commune proper, which is far more recent but no less complex. All three great tales are ultimately bound together by a single thread: human desperation. The metropolis now known as Esperi was born from a region of the world deformed by decades of alchemical warfare, and its people hailed from all corners of the earth, many of them seeking refuge from war, famine and disease in this legendary sanctuary, isolated from the dark and wild world beyond by the miasma-ladden wastelands surrounding it. It was, in other words, a city of immigrants. The nations of this region, known to this day as the Moonlands, were all bound by faith, language and folklore for thousands of years, as well as a peculiar fascination for alchemy. These states were constantly warring against one another, locked in an endless struggle for political and cultural supremacy, and as the Industrial Revolution reached their shores, the mass production of alchemical products prompted their equally widespread use in war. So it was that, when a dispute over the royal succession in one of the Moonlandish nations sparked a regionwide war, the world saw its first full-fledged alchemical war, and the indiscriminate use of alchemy against one another soon began to take its toll on their lands. In a matter of years, the air and water in the cities became so polluted that many among the urban aristocracy abandoned them for the countryside, and the countryside itself saw large expanses of fertile land become desolate wastelands under the scourge of noxious fumes and so-called 'starfire'. Entire cities were covered in miasma and abandoned, or swallowed whole by massive sinkholes, until the situation became intolerable, thus provoking a Moonlandish exodus. Millions of commoners fled their homelands in all directions, while the wealthiest Moonlanders sought refuge in purifying sanctuaries built in relatively isolated areas. Facing the worst enviromental disaster in the world's history, the government of the most affluent of the remaining nations began the construction of one of the most ambitious engineering projects since the invention of the steam engine: the great mechanical tower of Remény. Built on the edge of the remote Emile peninsula, it was designed to purify the air and water of its surroundings, thus providing a healthy enviroment for its inhabitants to begin their lives anew, safe from the horrifying consequences of their actions. Originally meant to sustain only a few thousands at most, Remény continued to expand over the decades as more and more refugees flocked to it. Most of them were Moonlanders, fleeing from the fallout of the alchemical wars, but there were also foreigners, escaping from their own war-torn and poverty-ridden homelands. Thus, it ceased to be a mere tower, and became a vertical clockwork metropolis teeming with life. The earth beneath it blessed with an abundance of valuable metals and minerals, Remény's industry thrived grew exponentially over the years, while the rest of the Moonlands neared their complete and final disintegration. When the last sovereign states in the Moonlands vanished in a final, maniacal act of alchemy-ladden violence, Remény became the sole remaining glimmer of life in an otherwise lifeless region, covered in the ruins and corpses of once prosperous civilizations. Following years of instability, a military dictatorship took over the tower, supported by the remnants of the Moonlandish nobility and bourgeois. As the tower's population of immigrants grew in the lower levels, attracted to the technological wonder by legends of peace and opportunity, the old aristocracy entrenched itself in the upper levels, where their air was purer and the military concentrated the bulk of its might. The rule of the military over the city, masked by a symbolic prince and parliament inherited from olden days, transformed Remény into an industrial powerhouse, particularly famous for its exceptional pharmaceutical products and machinery, both necessary to sustain the city and its populations while surrounded by a toxic enviroment. For decades, the city was economically prosperous, and the prestige of its government earned it a place among the most trusted exporters of manufactured goods. Unfortunately, for all its superficial welfare, life had become politically and socially stagnated underneath the upper levels of the tower, the social hierarchy inherited from its founders perpetuated by the military's strict policies. The aristocracy concentrated most of the benefits of Remény's good fortune, and the dictatorship ensured that the workers and immigrants in the lower levels remained there, unable to disturbe the tranquility above. In time, however, people with new, foreign ideals reached the lower levels of Remény, and from the middle and upper castes came a plethora of intellectual movements that looked at their little clockwork world with critical eyes. Syndicalists rebelled in the mines, demanding better working conditions, while anarchists distributed literature in the factories, encouraging a great revolution, and several groups of scholars throughout Remény published extensive cultural studies that severely criticised the socioeconomic and political structure in the tower. When the dictatorship suppressed these first movements, their remnants became radicalised, and what had initially been peaceful movements turned into full-blown revolutionary movements. Officials and magnates were killed in terrorist attacks, barricades arose in all levels of the tower, and the government started to tear itself apart as the military and the parliament berated one another, while hundreds died on the streets and entire levels were closed off. In an attempt to forestall a civil war, the Prince of Remény single-handedly introduced some reforms, and personally led a liberal monarchist movement, supported by the clergy, but staunchly opposed by the military and the republicans in the parliament. The real turning point in this turbulent period of Remény's history, however, would come with two events: the arrival of a new, huge wave of refugees from several wars taking place on the shores of the Great Southern Ocean, and the emergence of a new movement, led by a Sanfure ophthalmologist and philologist, that revolved around a constructed language called Esperanto. The sudden influx of thousands foreigners was far more than the military could handle, and the Esperantist movement's advocacy for multiculturalism and the inclusion of Esperanto as the official language of Remény turned them into one of the most popular factions in the increasingly volatile political climate. The long feared political implosion finally occurred five years ago, in the midst of a severe economic crisis, fears of the air purification machinery of the city failing in the lower levels, and a conflict over the succession to the throne of Remény. Following the death of the childless Prince Valentin IV, several claimants appeared to claim his place, each supported by their own faction. Amongst these candidates, two stood out from the rest: András Lovász, a young colonel, supported by the military and several labour unions; and Lázára Zamenhof, a young student and suspected Esperantist sympathizer, supported by the liberal monarchists and republicans in the parliament. Although both had relatively weak claims to the throne, they were the two most popular choices, and when a special tribunal was set to determine which of them would be made sovereign of Remény, the deliberations constantly derived in prolongued deadlocks. As the debate stretched on, tensions sparked in all levels, and the situation deteriorated in the areas that had seen the worst of the political violence during the past years. In this state of affairs, left-wing groups saw the opportunity for a final revolution, and the Esperantists began to demonstrate in the cities, demanding a sovereign that would bring an end to ethnic and socioeconomic segregation in Remény. As rumours spread that Lázára Zamenhof was not just a sympathizer, but rather a prolific author and active participant in the Esperantist movement, with ties to anarchist groups both in her place of study, the University of Szarvas-Virág, and in the industrial areas, a resistance against her potential coronation grew in the upper levels. Elsewhere, however, she quickly became widely popular, thanks to her charisma and the support of many religious figures. Perceived as a modest, compassionate young woman, her sincerity and openness attracted the immigrants and workers, as well as some sectors of the middle class. When the special tribunal declared Lázára the legitimate heir of Valentin IV by a slim majority, with passionate dissents from the rest of its members, the decision was met with loud protests from the military and the parliament, and violence broke out in many of the lower levels. Both the parliament and the military began a series of investigations with the objective of impeaching the new Princess of Remény, while she was placed under house arrest with her half-brother, Félix Király. These investigations, carried out while whispers of a massive left-wing insurrection spread through the tower, uncovered the full extent of Lázára's relationships with radical political movements. Combined with false evidence of her allegedly collaborating with the armed revolutions in the lower levels, the accusations were enough to have her impeached and stripped of her crown. The outrage in many sectors was instantaneous. While tens of thousands demonstrated on the streets in her defence, a group of politicians, magnates and preachers occupied the Basilica of Remény and turned it into Lázára's seat of government. From there, they demanded that she be trialed by a special tribunal, rather than the parliament, while the military grew more and more restless. András Lovász rallied his supporters around the Basilica to demand Lázára's abdication, leading to violent clashes with her supporters. A special tribunal was convened to review the parliament's decision, much to the military's chagrin, and only three weeks later, they ruled in Lázára's favour and reestablished her as princess. With all legal resources exhausted, and popular support for András Lovász waning, the military staged a coup two days after the ruling, storming the Basilica and arresting Lázára and her supporters. In the hours that followed, the parliament was dissolved, its members were arrested, and András was crowned prince. Immediately after news of the coup reached the lower levels, the Esperantists led the largest uprising in Remény's history, aided by the anarchists. Hundreds of thousands laid siege to government and military buildings, barricades were raised, and all elevators leading to the upper levels were destroyed, effectively isolating the different levels of the tower from each other. As the military prepared for their counter-attack, their leaders decided to exile Lázára and Félix to the wastelands beyond the city, warning them that, should they return, their entire families would be executed. In her exile, Lázára explored the remains of the Moonlandish civilization, lived off what few life there was to be found amongst the cinder, pitch-black lakes and noxious fumes, and encountered the descendants of survivors from the alchemical wars, as well as many who had been exiled from Remény before her. Through these ordeals, and many more, Lázára experienced a profound spiritual revival, part self-realization, part religious epiphany. At first, she meditated in solitude, beside the ruins of the Moonlands, but as she matured, she began to preach to the inhabitants of the land. Her interpretation of Moonlandish mythology and religious doctrine was heavily influenced by her anarchism and Esperantism, and found some adherents among the exiles and refugees that passed through the wastelands. Two years into her exile, rumours of her sermons reached Remény, dispelling the myth that she had perished at the hands of the miasma, and granting the religious groups who had supported her new strength in their fight against the military. By then, the civil war had claimed the lives of over a million people and destroyed several cities near the tower's base, and the military was laying siege to the middle city of Énekesmadár, the heart of the anarchist movement in Remény. When deserters from the city told Lázára these news, she raised a small army out of her followers, and marched to Remény, not to reclaim her throne, but rather to overthrow the entirety of the tower's political system, including the principality. She renamed herself Ludovika, in honour of the creator of Esperanto, and sent spies ahead of her force to spread the word of her return. Followed by her few hundred famished refugees and exiles, Ludovika arrived at a half-ruined Remény, the mines and the surrounding areas rendered uninhabitable by the encroaching miasma, and many cities that had once stood high, clinging to the tower's sides, now lied in ruins at the bottom of the great craters below the city. She was greeted in the lower levels with unbridled joy by the militants loyal to her, as well as many among the anarchist partisans, although the more anti-clerical maintained their distance. Three days later, the anarchist partisans, in cooperation with thousands of Esperantists and refugees, successfully led an assault against the military's last bastion in the lower levels, and Ludovika was joined by a vanguard as she ascended to Énekesmadár to break the siege. When the forces loyal to Prince András were driven back to the upper levels, Ludovika tended to the injured and sent the military an ultimatum, demanding that they laid down their arms and, if they did not wish to join the revolution, abandon the tower for all eternity. After several days of uneasy peace, hostilities resumed as the Esperantists and anarchist laid siege to the upper levels. The military mounted a desperate defence to protect their last bastion, while most of their civilian supporters abandoned the tower by airship. Seeing no hope for victory, Prince András sent Ludovika his abdication behind the military's back. When this was discovered, the military staged a second coup d'état and executed him. The killing of the prince was the last nail in the military's coffin, their last few supporters either deserting or sabotaging them, and by the sixteenth day of the siege, the upper levels fell. The Esperantist Commune was proclaimed the very next day, on the steps of the Basilica and, in the months that followed, a series of referendums set took place. The tower was renamed Esperi, all goverment institutions were abolished (including the military), Esperanto became the official (although not the only legal) language in the tower, the tower's currency was abolished, and the mines and large industries were expropriated and given over to the workers and their families. Later on, a referendum established a communal constitution based on the principles of individual liberty, free association, mutual aid, consensus democracy, and enviromental protection. It has been over two years since what was once conceived as a sanctuary for the privileged became the world's first large-scale anarchist community, and much has changed since then. People are working in the factories and mines once again, only this time it is out of a sense of duty to their community, rather than the obligations of an exploitative system. The universities are swelling with students, able at last to get an education without being constrained by restrictive fees. Moonlandish literature and art are experiencing a veritable Renaissance. The land and sea near Esperi has become inhabitable again, thanks to the efforts by thousands of volunteers. What was destroyed during the civil war is slowly being rebuilt, and missionaries from the Basilica, together with the many volunteers, care for the orphans and the injured that it left behind. Ludovika now resides in the Basilica, accompanied by her half-brother, living the life of a spiritual leader. She has more influence than she would prefer, but she is nonetheless happy to serve as the Celestial Ocean's apostle. The near future looks bright for most of Esperi's inhabitants, but few have given much thought to what may await beyond. While the Revolutionary Syndicalist International and the Northern Federal Republic of Unions may have plans to bring their revolutions to the rest of the world, the Esperantist Commune has no such plans. For now, this youthful society is content to look no further than the horizon, and relish what they have already accomplished.
Race
Moonlanders To this day, despite of the many waves of mass immigration that Esperi faced over the decades, the Moonlanders continue to represent over half of the tower's population. They are, for the most, part willowy and fair-skinned people with sharp features. Shaped by countless generations of varios degrees of exposure to alchemy, Moonlanders developed a strong resistance to toxins in the air, water and soil. Over the course of Esperi's history, however, they also lost musculature, particularly in the tower's upper levels, rendering their frames and limbs long, but frail-looking. Fair hair is not uncommon among Moonlanders, but light shades of brown, auburn and burgundy are the norm. Eye colours typically range from brown to yellow to green. Despite the slight Moonlandish majority, Esperi as a whole is a multiracial society, and in recent times miscegenation has become widespread.
Form of Government
True to its anarchist roots, the Commune is a stateless, classless society, founded on anti-authoritarian and communitarian principles. Although it is not entirely devoid of laws or institutions, it has no official government to speak of. All policy is decided by the people through a consensus democracy, and the enforcement of laws is left in the hands of volunteers who are granted temporary authority by their community. Such is the norm for most other services once provided by the state or by private enterprises: volunteers, approved of by their community, using the community's resources. Unions, religious groups and cooperatives make up the majority of what few civilian organizations exist, and by law they cannot have any permanent hierarchies, nor impose limits on their members that would constitute a breach of the principles of the Commune. The same goes for the Commune's military forces, which are mostly comprised of Esperantist and anarchist partisans who fought during the civil war, as well as former members of the principality's military. The Commune has no official political divisions, but following its establishment some of the smaller communities that comprised it organised themselves into sub-communes of sorts. These are, for the most part, self-regulating and self-sufficient units, although they are never isolated from the rest of the Commune. With all that said, it cannot be ignored that, when the last remnants of the former principality were abolished, countless people turned to a particular person and a particular institution for guidance. The person was, of course, the spiritual leader of the revolution: Ludovika Zamenhof. The institution, on the other hand, was none other than the Basilica, respected even by secularists for the tireless work done by its missionaries and scholars during the war. In the absence of the former government, it fell to both to provide a modicum of stability to the people, particularly to those who had not fought in the name of anarchism. Because of that, to this day Ludovika and the Basilica continue to have much influence in the decisions taken by the people of the Commune, and are usually the ones tasked with speaking to foreign diplomats who try to contact the tower. Neither of the two has abused this power yet, however, both being committed to the ideals of the Commune, including its secularism.
Current Leader(s)
Notable Figures
Total Population
19.277.000 approx.
Nation's Location Nation's Geography
A hand-coloured photograph of Esperi taken from an airship. The wastelands that once surrounded Esperi have slowly began to regain their old, long-forgotten colour. The Emile peninsula, renamed Maraĵa after the civil war, is a land of grasslands and low hills. The enviromental decay caused by the alchemical warfare destroyed the local fauna and vegetation, forcing the tower to rely on its glasshouses and imported goods to feed its inhabitants. Following the civil war, the area surrounding the tower was restored to fertility and transformed into farmland. The tower of Esperi itself is, of course, the peninsula's defining feature. Several miles high, enough for the uppermost level to be far above most clowds. At the base of the tower, an ever-expanding hole on the earth leads to the lowermost levels and the mines. The earth beneath the tower is rich in valuable metals and minerals used by the alchemical industry in the past, not the least of them being the rare 'starstone'. The tower's largest machinery is also there, the miles-wide cogs still working perfectly despite the age, keeping the city's air and water safe. The climate of the peninsula was originally temperate, but has for the past decades been unusually cold and stormy, with strong winds continuously coming from the raging seas. Heavy rains are quite common during spring, summer and autumn, and winter can be harsh as well.
Economy
When the military still reigned, the tower's economy revolved around mining, machinery and pharmaceutical products. With a culture experienced in chemistry, a home that required constant mechanical maintenance, and an earth rich with ore, it made sense. The profits from those industries were more than enough to pay for the raw materials and manufactured goods that could not be produced locally, or at least not in large enough quantities to feed the ever-growing population. Under the Esperantist Commune, the desire for profit vanished along with the concept currency, and the principles of mutual aid and free association too precedence. The people needed food, water, housing and electricity, and there were thousands of volunteers eager to provide. While the pharmaceutical and mining industries continued to operate, now entirely in the hands of their workers, production slowly dropped to the levels needed to sustain the tower's population and little more. The recovery of the long lost farmland surrounding Esperi meant a significant boost in the Commune's food production, but even then it struggles to cover all needs. Several cooperatives have pursued the path of innovation, trying to find new, better methods to grow food, so far with a few successes. The Commune is thus left wondering if it will be forced to trade with foreign powers, or seek the help of other revolutionary societies abroad. If any economic activities have thrived under the Commune, those are the heavy industry, particularly in the production of airships and railways, and the film industry. In the past two years, truly revolutionary designs for airships and trains, and equally groundbreaking techniques in the creation of cinematic art have found a home in the recovering Esperi. The material known as 'starstone', which was only found in the Moonlands, is relatively abundant underneath the tower, and to this day Esperi has a monopoly on it. Starstone is a remarkably versatile material, more potent than most fuels, and in the past it was used to produce the famous Moonlandish starfire, one of the world's earliest fragmentation bombs.
Technology Overview
Moonlandish culture was never a traditionalist one, and even less so when it came to exploiting the gifts of nature to create seemingly magical wonders. Alchemy was not an art first developed by Moonlanders, but it was one that they quickly mastered and never abandoned. All sorts of great potions and poisons were developed by Moonlandish alchemists over the years, as were some of the best explosives and fertilizers. Of all the things that changed with the advent of the Esperantist Commune, this ancient obsession was not one of them. Even today, countless scientists work in laboratories throughout the tower, trying to develop new medicines, new chemical weapons, new explosives, and new fertilizers. Every day, rumours spread of the latest grand invention that will change the world, and now and then the rumours speak true. Lately, most public efforts have focused on pharmaceutical endeavours. In secret, however, many chemists work with the Commune's military to develop weapons that may keep potential invaders at bay. Outside of the realm of chemistry, popular opinion has encouraged further innovation in infrastructure and heavy industry, particularly that aimed at improving the efficiency of Esperi's industry, machinery and defenses, to turn it into a truly safe haven for the Commune, at whatever refugees come to it seeking sanctuary. The most ambitious projects yet, in this regard, has been the development of a flotilla of airships and fighters to protect the tower's airspace and transport civilians between the tower's levels without the need for elevators. As a whole, the Esperantist Commune is technologically up to par with the rest of the world, both in civilian and military terms, but its greatest strength lies in the Moonlanders' peculiar understanding of chemistry.
Military Overview
Population 1,8% Army Overview The Remény Army was one of the first institutions to be abolished when the Commune was established, and not without good reasons. Its officers and soldiers had been behind the worst atrocities committed during the military's reign, and its structure ran counter to the core principles of the new social and political order. What the Esperantist Commune has in the army's place is a collection of groups of volunteers, most of them veterans from the civil war, self-trained and armed with the weaponry left behind by the previous regime. The groups vary in size, equipment and methods, but all are equal in their lack of a proper hierarchy. Their tactics and strategies are decided by consensus, and in wartime they divide themselves into smaller groups to make split-second decisions easier to make. As of today, 303,916 people have chosen the lives of full-time soldiers, the Esperantist People's Front being the largest, at 61,622 members. They are followed by the People's Hope, with 49,794, the Sons of the Moon, with 37,414, and the Victorious Corps, with 33,106. Overall, the Commune's standing forces are mostly defensive in nature, and far more experienced in urban warfare than anything else. They tend to favour guerrilla tactics and chemical warfare over grand displays of raw power, and this is reflected in the widespread use of light weaponry and equipment, and the underuse of heavy tanks and artillery. The only exceptions to this rule are the Fiera and Brava Squadrons, of 4,412 and 2,633 members each, which consist of former members of the principality's armoured brigades who defected upon Ludovika's return to the tower. The two groups rely on heavy weapons and tanks, and currently guard Esperi's perimeter. Navy Overview Despite standing right next to the sea, the tower never really had a proper navy. The military preferred airships as their first line of defence, and what few ships they built to guard their territorial waters abandoned them when the civil war turned against them. Following the establishment of the Commune, some efforts were made to build a navy, with the volunteer group Maraĵa, with 673 members, beginning the construction of two submarines and a corvette. As of today, all three vessels remain unfinished but nearing completion. Air Force Overview The military took much pride in their airships and airplanes, and were always eager to innovate. They employed hundreds of engineers over the decades, and exploited countless workers, to create new, awe-inspiring masterpieces of aerial warfare. By the beginning of the civil war, the Remény Air Force boasted hundreds of fighters and bombers, dozens of airships, and the veritable flying fortress they named Sárkány. This impressive array of flying wonders was amongst those that suffered the most during the civil war. Torn apart by the coup against Ludovika, the different factions that formed warred against one another over the tower until the end of the war, and the Sárkány itself sustained countless sieges as the factions fought over it. When the upper levels of the tower finally fell, dozens of squadrons and airships had fallen, and a few others had abandoned the tower along with the Remény Navy. Today, a plethora of groups, all in all comprising 42,397 people, work tirelessly to restore this fleet to its former glory and protect the skies above the Commune. The Sárkány, now renamed the Tondra, is manned by the 288 Ĉiela Drakoj, and remains beside the uppermost levels of Esperi, watching over the horizon.
Well, I've finished writing my sheet.
Looking good so far. Just do the army part and you're free to post. Just avoid adding chemical warfare elements in it that can eradicate entire cities. I prefer to keep weapons of mass destruction out of the game :)
Milkman
Alright. I'll try to finish the sheet tonight.
We'd suggest taking the events started by Echo further, Celeste. Deal with the little pet found by Seuss' character.
Ellri
Thanks, Ellri. I'll see what I can do.
I'm waiting for others to post, so I know what I'm supposed to be writing.
Nation's History
When speaking about the history of the Esperantist Commune, one would do well to distinguish between the history of the diverse people who inhabit it, the history of the wondrous mechanical metropolis that is at the heart of it, and the history of the commune proper, which is far more recent but no less complex. All three great tales are ultimately bound together by a single thread: human desperation. The metropolis now known as Esperi was born from a region of the world deformed by decades of alchemical warfare, and its people hailed from all corners of the earth, many of them seeking refuge from war, famine and disease in this legendary sanctuary, isolated from the dark and wild world beyond by the miasma-ladden wastelands surrounding it. It was, in other words, a city of immigrants. The nations of this region, known to this day as the Moonlands, were all bound by faith, language and folklore for thousands of years, as well as a peculiar fascination for alchemy. These states were constantly warring against one another, locked in an endless struggle for political and cultural supremacy, and as the Industrial Revolution reached their shores, the mass production of alchemical products prompted their equally widespread use in war. So it was that, when a dispute over the royal succession in one of the Moonlandish nations sparked a regionwide war, the world saw its first full-fledged alchemical war, and the indiscriminate use of alchemy against one another soon began to take its toll on their lands. In a matter of years, the air and water in the cities became so polluted that many among the urban aristocracy abandoned them for the countryside, and the countryside itself saw large expanses of fertile land become desolate wastelands under the scourge of noxious fumes and so-called 'starfire'. Entire cities were covered in miasma and abandoned, or swallowed whole by massive sinkholes, until the situation became intolerable, thus provoking a Moonlandish exodus. Millions of commoners fled their homelands in all directions, while the wealthiest Moonlanders sought refuge in purifying sanctuaries built in relatively isolated areas. Facing the worst enviromental disaster in the world's history, the government of the most affluent of the remaining nations began the construction of one of the most ambitious engineering projects since the invention of the steam engine: the great mechanical tower of Remény. Built on the edge of the remote Emile peninsula, it was designed to purify the air and water of its surroundings, thus providing a healthy enviroment for its inhabitants to begin their lives anew, safe from the horrifying consequences of their actions. Originally meant to sustain only a few thousands at most, Remény continued to expand over the decades as more and more refugees flocked to it. Most of them were Moonlanders, fleeing from the fallout of the alchemical wars, but there were also foreigners, escaping from their own war-torn and poverty-ridden homelands. Thus, it ceased to be a mere tower, and became a vertical clockwork metropolis teeming with life. The earth beneath it blessed with an abundance of valuable metals and minerals, Remény's industry thrived grew exponentially over the years, while the rest of the Moonlands neared their complete and final disintegration. When the last sovereign states in the Moonlands vanished in a final, maniacal act of alchemy-ladden violence, Remény became the sole remaining glimmer of life in an otherwise lifeless region, covered in the ruins and corpses of once prosperous civilizations. Following years of instability, a military dictatorship took over the tower, supported by the remnants of the Moonlandish nobility and bourgeois. As the tower's population of immigrants grew in the lower levels, attracted to the technological wonder by legends of peace and opportunity, the old aristocracy entrenched itself in the upper levels, where their air was purer and the military concentrated the bulk of its might. The rule of the military over the city, masked by a symbolic prince and parliament inherited from olden days, transformed Remény into an industrial powerhouse, particularly famous for its exceptional pharmaceutical products and machinery, both necessary to sustain the city and its populations while surrounded by a toxic enviroment. For decades, the city was economically prosperous, and the prestige of its government earned it a place among the most trusted exporters of manufactured goods. Unfortunately, for all its superficial welfare, life had become politically and socially stagnated underneath the upper levels of the tower, the social hierarchy inherited from its founders perpetuated by the military's strict policies. The aristocracy concentrated most of the benefits of Remény's good fortune, and the dictatorship ensured that the workers and immigrants in the lower levels remained there, unable to disturbe the tranquility above. In time, however, people with new, foreign ideals reached the lower levels of Remény, and from the middle and upper castes came a plethora of intellectual movements that looked at their little clockwork world with critical eyes. Syndicalists rebelled in the mines, demanding better working conditions, while anarchists distributed literature in the factories, encouraging a great revolution, and several groups of scholars throughout Remény published extensive cultural studies that severely criticised the socioeconomic and political structure in the tower. When the dictatorship suppressed these first movements, their remnants became radicalised, and what had initially been peaceful movements turned into full-blown revolutionary movements. Officials and magnates were killed in terrorist attacks, barricades arose in all levels of the tower, and the government started to tear itself apart as the military and the parliament berated one another, while hundreds died on the streets and entire levels were closed off. In an attempt to forestall a civil war, the Prince of Remény single-handedly introduced some reforms, and personally led a liberal monarchist movement, supported by the clergy, but staunchly opposed by the military and the republicans in the parliament. The real turning point in this turbulent period of Remény's history, however, would come with two events: the arrival of a new, huge wave of refugees from several wars taking place on the shores of the Great Southern Ocean, and the emergence of a new movement, led by a Sanfure ophthalmologist and philologist, that revolved around a constructed language called Esperanto. The sudden influx of thousands foreigners was far more than the military could handle, and the Esperantist movement's advocacy for multiculturalism and the inclusion of Esperanto as the official language of Remény turned them into one of the most popular factions in the increasingly volatile political climate. The long feared political implosion finally occurred five years ago, in the midst of a severe economic crisis, fears of the air purification machinery of the city failing in the lower levels, and a conflict over the succession to the throne of Remény. Following the death of the childless Prince Valentin IV, several claimants appeared to claim his place, each supported by their own faction. Amongst these candidates, two stood out from the rest: András Lovász, a young colonel, supported by the military and several labour unions; and Lázára Zamenhof, a young student and suspected Esperantist sympathizer, supported by the liberal monarchists and republicans in the parliament. Although both had relatively weak claims to the throne, they were the two most popular choices, and when a special tribunal was set to determine which of them would be made sovereign of Remény, the deliberations constantly derived in prolongued deadlocks. As the debate stretched on, tensions sparked in all levels, and the situation deteriorated in the areas that had seen the worst of the political violence during the past years. In this state of affairs, left-wing groups saw the opportunity for a final revolution, and the Esperantists began to demonstrate in the cities, demanding a sovereign that would bring an end to ethnic and socioeconomic segregation in Remény. As rumours spread that Lázára Zamenhof was not just a sympathizer, but rather a prolific author and active participant in the Esperantist movement, with ties to anarchist groups both in her place of study, the University of Szarvas-Virág, and in the industrial areas, a resistance against her potential coronation grew in the upper levels. Elsewhere, however, she quickly became widely popular, thanks to her charisma and the support of many religious figures. Perceived as a modest, compassionate young woman, her sincerity and openness attracted the immigrants and workers, as well as some sectors of the middle class. When the special tribunal declared Lázára the legitimate heir of Valentin IV by a slim majority, with passionate dissents from the rest of its members, the decision was met with loud protests from the military and the parliament, and violence broke out in many of the lower levels. Both the parliament and the military began a series of investigations with the objective of impeaching the new Princess of Remény, while she was placed under house arrest with her half-brother, Félix Király. These investigations, carried out while whispers of a massive left-wing insurrection spread through the tower, uncovered the full extent of Lázára's relationships with radical political movements. Combined with false evidence of her allegedly collaborating with the armed revolutions in the lower levels, the accusations were enough to have her impeached and stripped of her crown. The outrage in many sectors was instantaneous. While tens of thousands demonstrated on the streets in her defence, a group of politicians, magnates and preachers occupied the Basilica of Remény and turned it into Lázára's seat of government. From there, they demanded that she be trialed by a special tribunal, rather than the parliament, while the military grew more and more restless. András Lovász rallied his supporters around the Basilica to demand Lázára's abdication, leading to violent clashes with her supporters. A special tribunal was convened to review the parliament's decision, much to the military's chagrin, and only three weeks later, they ruled in Lázára's favour and reestablished her as princess. With all legal resources exhausted, and popular support for András Lovász waning, the military staged a coup two days after the ruling, storming the Basilica and arresting Lázára and her supporters. In the hours that followed, the parliament was dissolved, its members were arrested, and András was crowned prince. Immediately after news of the coup reached the lower levels, the Esperantists led the largest uprising in Remény's history, aided by the anarchists. Hundreds of thousands laid siege to government and military buildings, barricades were raised, and all elevators leading to the upper levels were destroyed, effectively isolating the different levels of the tower from each other. As the military prepared for their counter-attack, their leaders decided to exile Lázára and Félix to the wastelands beyond the city, warning them that, should they return, their entire families would be executed. In her exile, Lázára explored the remains of the Moonlandish civilization, lived off what few life there was to be found amongst the cinder, pitch-black lakes and noxious fumes, and encountered the descendants of survivors from the alchemical wars, as well as many who had been exiled from Remény before her. Through these ordeals, and many more, Lázára experienced a profound spiritual revival, part self-realization, part religious epiphany. At first, she meditated in solitude, beside the ruins of the Moonlands, but as she matured, she began to preach to the inhabitants of the land. Her interpretation of Moonlandish mythology and religious doctrine was heavily influenced by her anarchism and Esperantism, and found some adherents among the exiles and refugees that passed through the wastelands. Two years into her exile, rumours of her sermons reached Remény, dispelling the myth that she had perished at the hands of the miasma, and granting the religious groups who had supported her new strength in their fight against the military. By then, the civil war had claimed the lives of over a million people and destroyed several cities near the tower's base, and the military was laying siege to the middle city of Énekesmadár, the heart of the anarchist movement in Remény. When deserters from the city told Lázára these news, she raised a small army out of her followers, and marched to Remény, not to reclaim her throne, but rather to overthrow the entirety of the tower's political system, including the principality. She renamed herself Ludovika, in honour of the creator of Esperanto, and sent spies ahead of her force to spread the word of her return. Followed by her few hundred famished refugees and exiles, Ludovika arrived at a half-ruined Remény, the mines and the surrounding areas rendered uninhabitable by the encroaching miasma, and many cities that had once stood high, clinging to the tower's sides, now lied in ruins at the bottom of the great craters below the city. She was greeted in the lower levels with unbridled joy by the militants loyal to her, as well as many among the anarchist partisans, although the more anti-clerical maintained their distance. Three days later, the anarchist partisans, in cooperation with thousands of Esperantists and refugees, successfully led an assault against the military's last bastion in the lower levels, and Ludovika was joined by a vanguard as she ascended to Énekesmadár to break the siege. When the forces loyal to Prince András were driven back to the upper levels, Ludovika tended to the injured and sent the military an ultimatum, demanding that they laid down their arms and, if they did not wish to join the revolution, abandon the tower for all eternity. After several days of uneasy peace, hostilities resumed as the Esperantists and anarchist laid siege to the upper levels. The military mounted a desperate defence to protect their last bastion, while most of their civilian supporters abandoned the tower by airship. Seeing no hope for victory, Prince András sent Ludovika his abdication behind the military's back. When this was discovered, the military staged a second coup d'état and executed him. The killing of the prince was the last nail in the military's coffin, their last few supporters either deserting or sabotaging them, and by the sixteenth day of the siege, the upper levels fell. The Esperantist Commune was proclaimed the very next day, on the steps of the Basilica and, in the months that followed, a series of referendums set took place. The tower was renamed Esperi, all goverment institutions were abolished (including the military), Esperanto became the official (although not the only legal) language in the tower, the tower's currency was abolished, and the mines and large industries were expropriated and given over to the workers and their families. Later on, a referendum established a communal constitution based on the principles of individual liberty, free association, mutual aid, consensus democracy, and enviromental protection. It has been over two years since what was once conceived as a sanctuary for the privileged became the world's first large-scale anarchist community, and much has changed since then. People are working in the factories and mines once again, only this time it is out of a sense of duty to their community, rather than the obligations of an exploitative system. The universities are swelling with students, able at last to get an education without being constrained by restrictive fees. Moonlandish literature and art are experiencing a veritable Renaissance. The land and sea near Esperi has become inhabitable again, thanks to the efforts by thousands of volunteers. What was destroyed during the civil war is slowly being rebuilt, and missionaries from the Basilica, together with the many volunteers, care for the orphans and the injured that it left behind. Ludovika now resides in the Basilica, accompanied by her half-brother, living the life of a spiritual leader. She has more influence than she would prefer, but she is nonetheless happy to serve as the Celestial Ocean's apostle. The near future looks bright for most of Esperi's inhabitants, but few have given much thought to what may await beyond. While the Revolutionary Syndicalist International and the Northern Federal Republic of Unions may have plans to bring their revolutions to the rest of the world, the Esperantist Commune has no such plans. For now, this youthful society is content to look no further than the horizon, and relish what they have already accomplished.
Race
Moonlanders To this day, despite of the many waves of mass immigration that Esperi faced over the decades, the Moonlanders continue to represent over half of the tower's population. They are, for the most, part willowy and fair-skinned people with sharp features. Shaped by countless generations of varios degrees of exposure to alchemy, Moonlanders developed a strong resistance to toxins in the air, water and soil. Over the course of Esperi's history, however, they also lost musculature, particularly in the tower's upper levels, rendering their frames and limbs long, but frail-looking. Fair hair is not uncommon among Moonlanders, but light shades of brown, auburn and burgundy are the norm. Eye colours typically range from brown to yellow to green. Despite the slight Moonlandish majority, Esperi as a whole is a multiracial society, and in recent times miscegenation has become widespread.
Form of Government
True to its anarchist roots, the Commune is a stateless, classless society, founded on anti-authoritarian and communitarian principles. Although it is not entirely devoid of laws or institutions, it has no official government to speak of. All policy is decided by the people through a consensus democracy, and the enforcement of laws is left in the hands of volunteers who are granted temporary authority by their community. Such is the norm for most other services once provided by the state or by private enterprises: volunteers, approved of by their community, using the community's resources. Unions, religious groups and cooperatives make up the majority of what few civilian organizations exist, and by law they cannot have any permanent hierarchies, nor impose limits on their members that would constitute a breach of the principles of the Commune. The same goes for the Commune's military forces, which are mostly comprised of Esperantist and anarchist partisans who fought during the civil war, as well as former members of the principality's military. The Commune has no official political divisions, but following its establishment some of the smaller communities that comprised it organised themselves into sub-communes of sorts. These are, for the most part, self-regulating and self-sufficient units, although they are never isolated from the rest of the Commune. With all that said, it cannot be ignored that, when the last remnants of the former principality were abolished, countless people turned to a particular person and a particular institution for guidance. The person was, of course, the spiritual leader of the revolution: Ludovika Zamenhof. The institution, on the other hand, was none other than the Basilica, respected even by secularists for the tireless work done by its missionaries and scholars during the war. In the absence of the former government, it fell to both to provide a modicum of stability to the people, particularly to those who had not fought in the name of anarchism. Because of that, to this day Ludovika and the Basilica continue to have much influence in the decisions taken by the people of the Commune, and are usually the ones tasked with speaking to foreign diplomats who try to contact the tower. Neither of the two has abused this power yet, however, both being committed to the ideals of the Commune, including its secularism.
Current Leader(s)
Notable Figures
Total Population
19.277.000 approx.
Nation's Location Nation's Geography
A hand-coloured photograph of Esperi taken from an airship. The wastelands that once surrounded Esperi have slowly began to regain their old, long-forgotten colour. The Emile peninsula, renamed Maraĵa after the civil war, is a land of grasslands and low hills. The enviromental decay caused by the alchemical warfare destroyed the local fauna and vegetation, forcing the tower to rely on its glasshouses and imported goods to feed its inhabitants. Following the civil war, the area surrounding the tower was restored to fertility and transformed into farmland. The tower of Esperi itself is, of course, the peninsula's defining feature. Several miles high, enough for the uppermost level to be far above most clowds. At the base of the tower, an ever-expanding hole on the earth leads to the lowermost levels and the mines. The earth beneath the tower is rich in valuable metals and minerals used by the alchemical industry in the past, not the least of them being the rare 'starstone'. The tower's largest machinery is also there, the miles-wide cogs still working perfectly despite the age, keeping the city's air and water safe. The climate of the peninsula is temperate, and rains are a common, but not dominant feature.
Economy
When the military still reigned, the tower's economy revolved around mining, machinery and pharmaceutical products. With a culture experienced in chemistry, a home that required constant mechanical maintenance, and an earth rich with ore, it made sense. The profits from those industries were more than enough to pay for the raw materials and manufactured goods that could not be produced locally, or at least not in large enough quantities to feed the ever-growing population. Under the Esperantist Commune, the desire for profit vanished along with the concept currency, and the principles of mutual aid and free association too precedence. The people needed food, water, housing and electricity, and there were thousands of volunteers eager to provide. While the pharmaceutical and mining industries continued to operate, now entirely in the hands of their workers, production slowly dropped to the levels needed to sustain the tower's population and little more. The recovery of the long lost farmland surrounding Esperi meant a significant boost in the Commune's food production, but even then it struggles to cover all needs. Several cooperatives have pursued the path of innovation, trying to find new, better methods to grow food, so far with a few successes. The Commune is thus left wondering if it will be forced to trade with foreign powers, or seek the help of other revolutionary societies abroad. If any economic activities have thrived under the Commune, those are the heavy industry, particularly in the production of airships and railways, and the film industry. In the past two years, truly revolutionary designs for airships and trains, and equally groundbreaking techniques in the creation of cinematic art have found a home in the recovering Esperi. The material known as 'starstone', which was only found in the Moonlands, is relatively abundant underneath the tower, and to this day Esperi has a monopoly on it. Starstone is a remarkably versatile material, more potent than most fuels, and in the past it was used to produce the famous Moonlandish starfire, one of the world's earliest fragmentation bombs.
Technology Overview
Moonlandish culture was never a traditionalist one, and even less so when it came to exploiting the gifts of nature to create seemingly magical wonders. Alchemy was not an art first developed by Moonlanders, but it was one that they quickly mastered and never abandoned. All sorts of great potions and poisons were developed by Moonlandish alchemists over the years, as were some of the best explosives and fertilizers. Of all the things that changed with the advent of the Esperantist Commune, this ancient obsession was not one of them. Even today, countless scientists work in laboratories throughout the tower, trying to develop new medicines, new chemical weapons, new explosives, and new fertilizers. Every day, rumours spread of the latest grand invention that will change the world, and now and then the rumours speak true. Lately, most public efforts have focused on pharmaceutical endeavours. In secret, however, many chemists work with the Commune's military to develop weapons that may keep potential invaders at bay. Outside of the realm of chemistry, popular opinion has encouraged further innovation in infrastructure and heavy industry, particularly that aimed at improving the efficiency of Esperi's industry, machinery and defenses, to turn it into a truly safe haven for the Commune, at whatever refugees come to it seeking sanctuary. The most ambitious projects yet, in this regard, has been the development of a flotilla of airships and fighters to protect the tower's airspace and transport civilians between the tower's levels without the need for elevators. As a whole, the Esperantist Commune is technologically up to par with the rest of the world, both in civilian and military terms, but its greatest strength lies in the Moonlanders' peculiar understanding of chemistry.
Military Overview
Population 1,8% Army Overview The Remény Army was one of the first institutions to be abolished when the Commune was established, and not without good reasons. Its officers and soldiers had been behind the worst atrocities committed during the military's reign, and its structure ran counter to the core principles of the new social and political order. What the Esperantist Commune has in the army's place is a collection of groups of volunteers, most of them veterans from the civil war, self-trained and armed with the weaponry left behind by the previous regime. The groups vary in size, equipment and methods, but all are equal in their lack of a proper hierarchy. Their tactics and strategies are decided by consensus, and in wartime they divide themselves into smaller groups to make split-second decisions easier to make. As of today, 303,916 people have chosen the lives of full-time soldiers, the Esperantist People's Front being the largest, at 61,622 members. They are followed by the People's Hope, with 49,794, the Sons of the Moon, with 37,414,311, and the Victorious Corps, with 33,106,156. Overall, the Commune's standing forces are mostly defensive in nature, and far more experienced in urban warfare than anything else. They tend to favour guerrilla tactics and chemical warfare over grand displays of raw power, and this is reflected in the widespread use of light weaponry and equipment, and the underuse of heavy tanks and artillery. The only exceptions to this rule are the Fiera and Brava Squadrons, of 4,412 and 2,633 members each, which consist of former members of the principality's armor brigades who defected upon Ludovika's return to the tower. The two groups rely on heavy weapons and tanks, and currently guard Esperi's perimeter. Navy Overview Despite standing right next to the sea, the tower never really had a proper navy. The military preferred airships as their first line of defence, and what few ships they built to guard their territorial waters abandoned them when the civil war turned against them. Following the establishment of the Commune, some efforts were made to build a navy, with the volunteer group Maraĵa, with 673 members, beginning the construction of two submarines and a corvette. As of today, all three vessels remain unfinished but nearing completion. Air Force Overview The military took much pride in their airships and airplanes, and were always eager to innovate. They employed hundreds of engineers over the decades, and exploited countless workers, to create new, awe-inspiring masterpieces of aerial warfare. By the beginning of the civil war, the Remény Air Force boasted hundreds of fighters and bombers, dozens of airships, and the veritable flying fortress they named Sárkány. This impressive array of flying wonders was amongst those that suffered the most during the civil war. Torn apart by the coup against Ludovika, the different factions that formed warred against one another over the tower until the end of the war, and the Sárkány itself sustained countless sieges as the factions fought over it. When the upper levels of the tower finally fell, dozens of squadrons and airships had fallen, and a few others had abandoned the tower along with the Remény Navy. Today, a plethora of groups, all in all comprising 42,397 people, work tirelessly to restore this fleet to its former glory and protect the skies above the Commune. The Sárkány, now renamed the Tondra, is manned by the 288 Ĉiela Drakoj, and remains beside the uppermost levels of Esperi, watching over the horizon.
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