by Max Barry

Latest Forum Topics

Advertisement

Governor: The Most Serene Republic of Avinicia

WA Delegate: None.

Founder: Rolais

Last WA Update:

Maps Board Activity History Admin Rank

World Factbook Entry

Welcome to Arkonos, A Region For Low Fantasy Roleplay! LinkDiscord


The Administration Avinicia Atumsetem Sariuthran Ethrida

Useful Links Can be Found Below!:
Map Rules
Map Request Thread

Current Date: Late Harvest 856 AP/ΑΠ


Current Events: Please Note that the region is now open again now that the rework is complete!



  1. 3

    The Maps of Arkonos

    AccountDiplomacy by Sariuthran . 549 reads.

  2. 2

    Arkonos Resources

    AccountTrade by Sariuthran . 125 reads.

  3. 3

    Races of Arkonos

    AccountOther by Naredar . 141 reads.

  4. 3

    Technology Overview Factbook

    AccountOther by Katoliuta . 98 reads.

▼ 1 More

Embassies: League of Sovereign Nations, Thegye, and Erchion.

Tags: Fantasy Tech, Featured, Magical, Map, Medium, Multi-Species, Offsite Chat, Past Tech, Role Player, and Social.

Arkonos contains 45 nations, the 543rd most in the world.

Today's World Census Report

The Most Stationary in Arkonos

Long-term World Census surveillance revealed which nations have been resident in their current region for the longest time.

As a region, Arkonos is ranked 15,569th in the world for Most Stationary.

NationWA CategoryMotto
1.The Anarchy of AelythiumInoffensive Centrist Democracy“The Chimera forever defiant”
2.The Confederacy of BraitiaCapitalizt“United against the Hordes!”
3.The Free Land of KilvapNew York Times Democracy“We Will Endure”
4.The Heavenly Dominion of CajapoyaInoffensive Centrist Democracy“We shall rise from the Ashes of old!”
5.The Holy Empire of ConianvanaIron Fist Consumerists“We Will Endure”
6.The Protectorate of TsifyrettopLeft-wing Utopia“For the Greater Good”
7.The Grand Khanate of TartarovskPsychotic Dictatorship“Autocracy, Nation, Family”
8.The Principality of MariskburcInoffensive Centrist Democracy“For Prince and Artyan!”
9.The Loving Couple of -4rt-FanIron Fist Consumerists“Lumity”
10.The Empire of NaviroIron Fist Consumerists“Prosperidade”
12345»

Regional Happenings

More...

Arkonos Regional Message Board

Chapter 1: part III:
The Summons

Shao’Kang set out for the Jingong, the elaborate palace that served as the center for the empire’s governance. It stood out in the center of Chongsheng, being one of the largest structures in the capital. Chongsheng was a unique mix of Shouren and Sharen architecture. Slant ridged roofs and tiered towers blended with minarets and great arches and pillars carved with geometric designs.

The Jingong itself was a large example of the marriage of the different designs. It was a series of square buildings attached to a single, central large square that rose above the others. Large horse-shoe arches rounded bottom level, ending in carved circular pillars as they reached the ground. The roof was the typical Shouren design of the tiled roof that slanted downward, the tiles had a ridged effect like dragon scales. The four corners ended in upturned eaves with intricate dragon carvings. At the very top of the building, the roof evened out into a flat surface toppe with a large, golden dome and spire.

Kang presented himself to the guards at the main gate. Despite Yan’Chen’s misgivings, Kang did not bring his sword and was unarmed but for a small dagger concealed in between the layers of his tunic and outer robes; a typical, if unofficial, precaution at court. He wore deep azure robes over top a black tunic, representing the colors of both his house and position as a military officer. His robes were tied closed with a brilliant gold sash and his long boots were made from polished lizard skin.

After the customary inspection the guards allowed him to pass. A court official in golden robes arrived to lead him to the council chambers. Like the outside, the interior of Jingong was a mesh of influences. Shouren styled lanterns lit the vast halls while the doors were varied designs of horse-shoe arches or other geometric shapes with doors expertly crafted to fit their varied shapes. They arrived at two such doors, larger than most and the tops were carved to fit the oval shape toward the top. The wall around the doors was tiled, with each tile piece being uniquely carved. Taken as a whole, the tile art depicted the founding of the city; showing the defied found, Jiqiao, firing a bow. Where the arrow struck was a shining beacon of light, depicting the location where Chongsheng would be built.

The official opened the doors and led Kang inside where several others were already present. As the door closed behind him, Kang took measure of the room, his eyes moving along and identifying those within. A few eyes stared back. To his left, Zehu’Ang Deng’Lai was conversing with Zhelan’JIn Hanbo. Both were fellow generals, though they were both Shouren and not Jiuren like himself. Another shouren general, Zimeng’Yao Wan’Zhu stood a little further back, her arms folded as she seemed to glare about the room. Kang felt her harsh gaze for a moment before she shifted her eyes.

To his right were the Shaqin general, Gu Tsai and the minister Ren Tsao. The two were in their own conversation but both paused to give a slight nod of greeting to Kang, which he returned. The Sharen at least did never seem to mind his presence as much as the Shouren officers. There were few Jiuren of similar rank to Kang, and at times like these he felt keenly aware of the discrepancy and wished some more of his fellow Jiuren lords were present, but many were in the south following his friend Song Zan.

His examination of the room was interrupted as the doors opposite the ones he had entered opened, and the Imperial Secretary entered followed closely by the Chancellor. The various generals and ministers present all then moved to take their places at a table that occupied the center of the room.

Once the Chancellor took his seat last, the entire room focused its attention on the man. Tengshi’Qin Cao’Lan had been Chancellor for many years, and enjoyed a great deal of authority stretching from the last emperor to the present one. Like many others present, he did not care much for Kang and had been annoyed when Kang managed to ascend to his present rank without his support. It had been the Grand Commandant who had seen Kang elevated.

“Many of you may be wondering why you have been called here today, others may have already theorized the purpose. The Grand Commandant is dead.” said Cao’Lan. “Assassinated just a few nights ago.”

The last remark sent a rush of murmurs across the table. The commandant, Zhuan’Li Hao’Ma had been getting on in years, but his health had been better than many others his age. Kang did his best to show surprise less anyone suspect he already knew. He thought he felt Gu Tsai’s eye rest on him for a moment but forced himself to ignore it, keeping his own gaze on the chancellor.

“How?” asked a voice from down the table.

“More importantly, who?” asked another.

Cao’Lan raised a hand to quell the outbursts. “The how is believed to have been poison. The details are still being examined. As for who, we have reason to believe the Blue Lotus are behind the ghastly deed.”

Further exclamations arose across the table. “The Blue Lotus have been inactive for years!” shouted Deng’Lai. “Most of their leaders died in the last major war.”

“No proof of that was ever found.” interjected Gu Tsai. “No bodies were ever found, we do not know how many, if any, truly perished in the war. Only that they went silent.”

“We have long believed the survivors have been sheltered by the states to the north and east. Those who have long sought to see this empire fall.” added Luoheng’Zhan Han’Gong, the Imperial Secretary.

“What of the Itoren in the north and west?” asked Wan’Zhu. She leaned forward, peering down the table toward the chancellor. “While they openly recognize us, they have long flaunted our authority over their territories.”

“We have plans to address the Ito.” said Cao’Lan. “And the other states to the east. If they harbor the Blue Lotus, we will discover it, and make any involved pay the price for despicable acts. But that is for other discussions. I have brought you all here merely to make it officially known so rumors do not run with wild abandon and to keep all of you aware of the present dangers. Keep yourselves guarded.”. Cao’Lan shifted his eyes among them to emphasize his point. Any one of them could be targeted. “In the meantime, we will be considering who is fit to fill the seat of Grand Commandant.”

A fresh murmur began to rise but was quelled as Cao’Lan rose from the table, a signal that their meeting was over. Once the chancellor and the Imperial Secretary had left, the others began to depart as well. Kang followed behind. His mind was a flurry of thoughts. The Blue Lotus, talk of action against the other states.

Key among all the points was the consideration of successors to the Grand Commandant. Kang felt his earlier anxieties finally fade away. He still had concerns, but now he had something even more important on his mind. An opportunity. The Grand Commandant was one of the most influential offices, and one he was eager to fill.

War of the Bloodied King
Chapter 3, Part 2 (Expansion)

The Kaer of Ilif Ildew lorded over the northern border marches of Narder between the Dwarves of Mandnad and the Elves of the Cindermires, situated on the midpoint of the river Dalwei. A strong stone fortress in the current age, surrounded by an assortment of homes and shops and farms, it started as a simple wooden emplacement built by the soldiers of Perrad the Conqueror in the wars against the anarchic remnants of the Arch-Druids domains.

From the village of Yanduon on the border it was only a few days ride, though the going was tiresome for the band from the Mires and the young recruit Gamraidd with the weather and the terrain, hindering their progress by several more days.

But in the end, they arrived the outer palisade of Ildew and were greeted by an entourage of courtesy.

“Hail, warriors of the Mires, I greet you in the name of Lord Pandar of this Kaer,” the first of them spoke, carrying a bronze badge on his shoulder that held his cloak over it that beheld the image of a trumpet, signifying his duty as a lord’s herald. “He bids you rest at the castle for a period before continuing on.”

“We welcome the lord's bidding and accept the invitation gladly,” replied Idris. “But before that, there is one more thing.”

He turned and gestured to Gamraidd to come forward and lightly grasped the boy's shoulder as he stepped forward next to him. He was a full two heads shorter than the mercenary and was dressed In thick travel clothes and had a quiver of arrows at his hip, with a hunting bow on his shoulder.

“This boy traveled with us on the road from Yanduon,” Idris continued. “He is strong in spirit and body, and is quite bright. He wants to volunteer for the troops.”

“Answering to the call to Marshall before the enlisted have set out to round up some troops is mighty admirable, son, is this true?”

Gamraidd nodded. “Yes sir. Many of the men of my village have grown old and support all of us with fishing and hunting. As the oldest child and youngest man who is able bodied, I felt the call to prove myself, and I understand the risks. My parents gave me leave.”

The Herald nodded. “Yanduon is a mighty small town, but a popular resting spot. I know the weather has not been kind, So I applaud your bravery for coming of your own volition, and that will invoke kind looks in your evaluations.” He gestured to the bow on the boy's shoulder. “Are you a good shot?”

“I like to think so, and my father encourages me. I help him on his hunts, and I also have some knowledge of wound care and medicines from helping my mother and sister in their work as nurses and midwives.”

“A fine young man,” Idris confirmed with the affirming nods of his men.

“A rare find indeed,” the Herald said, “and one that will be put to the test. We will provide some basic combat training for you here, that we hope can be supplemented by master Idris here for the other volunteers from Ildew, and get you outfitted before sending you down south.”

“Aye sir.”

War of the Bloodied King
Chapter 4 (Expansion)

The road to Mandnad from Candlyr was long and arduous for Arana Garawyn, started after receiving constant messages of the battles along the border near Mas Nafrath, and in the highland hills between the Dragon’s Ridge Mountains and The Jaw. And not many were good. The developing situation prompted the necessity for the Queen to visit with her allies and demand in person that the dwarves, in accordance with the contract ratified between the monarchs and ruler of Gar Gathol, expedite their sending materials and manpower, and perhaps edge closer towards the goal of a commonality.

The Queen had a full entourage fitted for a diplomatic visit. Advisory ministers, ladies in waiting, maids and servants, and the Royal complement of the Tarkros, arranged in green and silver garments with scaled armor and winged helms, at the head of which rode Lord-Captain Galamad, a seasoned warrior in the campaigns against the barbarian human colonists, hostile dwarvish Hill tribes, and the heretics of Dars Dysar.

Garawyn rode alone in her wagon with her Court Magician and Uncle Taliesen. Despite the cold, a series of warming runes cast by him kept them comfortable and content as they looked out to the passing road and mile marking stones. They did not talk much in the week or so it took to arrive to the edge of the dwarvish stronghold’s domains. Even at a stop in Kaer Ilif Ildew to give greetings to the lord of the territory, only some small words were exchanged, though compliments were given by both to the particularly promising recruits that were marshaled there, of note the young hunter sponsored by the captain from the Mires who was a longtime friend and comrade of the Lord-Captain, thus prompting the aging elf to take an interest in the young man's progress, and for his friend to send him letters of developments.

The gates of Mandnad were carved into the very face of the mountains and around it were reliefs of history of the old dwarvish kingdom that ruled all the mountains from the northeast to the south and west, even going as far back into the mythical origins of the isles with images of a great celestial dragon being beheaded by ancient gods, and the head falling to the surface of the mortal plane and into the seas, and the flaking scales dislodged from the flesh to become the dwarves. Welcomed into the depths of the city, they arrived in the Hall of Kings, and sitting upon his throne was Ragara Ashigal MardMand, an old and weathered dwarf with a beard that reached the floor and a tall golden crown on his head, but wisdom and cunning in his eyes.

“I welcome you as a father welcomes his child home to the hearth from years away,” he said standing with arms raised in greetings, “to my city and my kingdom of stones, Arana Garawyn, daughter of my friend Geris.”

“We thank you with our hearts aflame with thanks and joy as the furnace of the forge,” Garawyn said in return.

In the following days of feasts and fellowship, they talked at length of the military situation developing along the southern border, the continuously increasing efforts of Denward, the escalation of their aggression and dwindling number of losses against the forming commonality.

Of Blade and Frost: Part 2
“Hear me! Let my voice reach your ears and hear me!

Jin Shiyuan's heart pounded in his chest as he scrambled for cover behind a crumbling stone wall, finding shelter in what was likely once another family’s home. Whether they had abandoned it or whether the same stone wall he found cover from had failed to protect him, he could not know. His breath came in ragged gasps, the acrid stench of smoke and blood filling his nostrils. Chaos reigned around him, the air thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, the sky ablaze with the fiery trails of enemy arrows and flaming projectiles launched from the towering walls of the besieged village. With each arrow that whizzed past him, screams of agony pierced the air, a morbid harmony forming with the frantic shouts of his fellow Yusharen soldiers as they fought desperately against the relentless onslaught of projectiles.

By birthright, through his Elven ancestry, Jin sensed and processed all he could, whether or not he desired to. Jin's heart clenched with anguish as he heard the desperate cries of his comrades, their voices pleading for help amidst the chaos. He saw soldiers crumple to the ground, their bodies wracked with pain as enemy arrows found their mark, piercing flesh and bone with deadly accuracy. Some cried out for their mothers, their voices choked with fear and desperation, while others screamed in agony as flames engulfed them, the searing heat consuming their flesh. A cold dread gripped his heart, a dread born equally from knowing the men who suffered the atrocities that surrounded him in this hellscape and from fear of joining his comrades in suffering and oblivion.

A shaky exhale escaped him, the sort of shakiness one only hears when staring outcomes that were uncertain but certainly absolute right in their faces. Life or death, existence or oblivion, triumph or tragedy. There was a certain beautiful poeticism to the battlefield when looking at the summation of its total part, but to the warriors whose lives and faiths were dictated by its composition, each word, penned by blade and frost, evoked nothing but sheer terror in each of them.

Jin turned to the soldier next to him, hunkered down, seeking cover from the same wall Jin did, quivering and shaking, his hands hardly steady enough to hold a blade. He met Jin’s gaze before taking a deep breath. The two of them quickly faced behind them, sending over a variety of hand signals to a group of four or so men in a bombed out house adjacent to them, their counterpart group much in a similar situation to Jin and his comrade.

“Let not your comrades die in vain today! Let not the sacrifices of generations of yesterday, of ten years ago or of yore be for naught today! Ready your blades, notch your arrows, raise your shields, do what it is that you must and CHARGE!

Each man did not know themselves why they had steeled their nerves, grabbed their blades and rose to their feet. Perhaps it was out of a feeling of duty. Perhaps it was a matter of pride and masculinity. Perhaps it was even merely a matter of seeking glory, triumph and adventure. Yet as Jin rose to his feet, he himself did not know why he had listened to the roars of a man who stood at the back of the battlefield, issuing orders instead of accomplishing them himself. All Jin knew was that his sword’s grip laid firmly in his hand and that his body was running towards certain death.

In unison, the Yusharen soldiers, both Yuren, Parvatren and Foreignlanders alike charged ahead. In unison, they let out a guttural and visceral sort of scream that could just hardly be called a war cry. In unison, these teenage boys and young adults that had not even had the chance to see their twentieth winter fell one by one, arrows from enemy bowmen and flaming spears from the ballistae perched upon the stone walls rendering their being into nothing.

Yet amidst the chaos, with death surrounding him, he failed to notice the rubble and debris in his path, tripping over it as his sword fell out of his hand and to the wayside. His body crashed to the ground with a deep thud. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he found himself pinned down beneath the weight of his own fear, the sound of enemy arrows and flaming projectiles whizzing past him, whispering prophecies of impending doom. As he lay there, trapped in the suffocating grip of his own terror, Jin couldn't help but feel a surge of absurdity wash over him. Here he was, a soldier in the midst of a fierce battle, rendered helpless by a simple twist of fate. Death was soon to come, the struggle was all for naught.

In the face of death, Jin laughed.

RP ~ Ceremony I - Early Summer 856 AP/956 AM

The appointed time for the union had occurred, to join the Mearhan conquerors of Jacques Conditor with the preceding Arxiot Paravallon royals. The wedding had been set to occur in the city of Archi, as it displayed the union of Mearhan and Arxiot well. It had been conquered early by the Mearhans, and had a strong Arxiot culture. While the immediate families of the couple were naturally set to attend, so too were other close groups and individuals, some more notable than others.

Among the Princes' family and acquaintances, foremost was of course the King of Arxe. Gabriel’s uncles, Alexis and Alois, had also brought their families along with them. Ingimar, Gabriel's trusted friend, made time to attend, for he returned from the west with Gabriel, when command of the expedition was left to Ealdor. Ortaire arrived as well, for unlike his immediate kin he had settled in Arxe. Ortaite had even taken an Arxite to be his wife, whom he brought with him to the ceremony.

It was unfortunate that Rollon, who lorded over Mearhany beneath the authority of King Robert, had died before the wedding could occur. The authority to rule Mearhany had thus fallen to Rollon’s son, Frederic. Gabriel could not pretend to be too saddened, as he had never truly known the man, but he was nonetheless disappointed that the old man could not live long enough to attend.

On the Paravallon side, Sofia’s father and mother naturally attended. So too did Sofia’s aunt, uncle, and cousins. The Bride-to-be insisted that Thalia, her maidservant, be present in a more meaningful manner than the family’s other servants, and her wish was granted.

These were the expected guests, whom Gabriel was prepared to see at the wedding. However, the Prince had by no means expected to encounter his cousin Dorothee, the errant daughter of Yvenne and Roderic. Her zealotry was famous within the family, and she was mighty of stature. In her youth Dorothee had run off to the Chumasc, where many zealous folk, mostly Cythhuns, resided. Thus, Gabriel could hardly fathom why she was now down in Arxe.

“What are you doing here, rogue Clementine scion,” questioned Gabriel, suspecting that Dorothee hadn’t come to Arxe merely to attend the wedding. “Surely you didn’t sail all the way here just for some festivities. What trouble have you been stirring up?”

“Now now cousin, I was merely attending to religious matters in the south, as the good castellan of Chamasc requested of me. Given that I was on this island, I determined that I should witness the marriage of my own relative before returning to Mearhany, with that being the reason for my presence in Archi to begin with,” Dorothee responded. “I swear, I’ll try to cause no trouble.”

Deciding to give his cousin the benefit of the doubt, Gabriel let her be. He observed her as she sat among the plain clothed nuns, who were staring daggers into the ornately robed men on the other side of the chamber from them. To Gabriel’s surprise, Dorothee kept true to her word, certainly being no more aggressive than the most humble of the sisters. In truth, Gabriel would have been fine if an incident had occurred between the two groups, to the detriment of the widow-eaters, except that it would have disturbed his wedding. After waiting a little longer for all of the guests to arrive, the necessary people moved into position, for the time was at hand.

RP ~ Ceremony II - Early Summer 856 AP/956 AM

As the ceremony began, everything seemed to be going well. However, while the couple was swearing their oaths and vows, the aging King Robert would turn his attention to his granddaughter, Mariem. Unlike her brother and her cousin, Mariem was the opposite of robust, seeming to have already been exhausted by the ride from Ancrage to Archi. The discerning King noticed her beginning to fade out, and so shifted closer to her, supporting his granddaughter so that if Mariem was to pass out, that she would not collapse and cause a scene.

As the King Expected, Mariem did eventually pass out, though only after the ceremony was beginning to wrap up. Robert would thus motion for the priest to dismiss the people, as the King did not want to draw undue attention to what had happened. Rising up, the King would easily pick up his granddaughter, for despite her height her frailty made her light. Alongside his daughter and son in law, the King would depart to where they were staying within Archi, since it was already later in the day, and Mariem was in no shape to travel. Only after arriving back at where the royals were staying temporarily would they be able to confirm that Mariem was in an acceptable state.

- - - - - - -

While some of the members of the audience had noticed the King leaving, neither Gabriel nor his bride were among those who had noticed Mariem passed out, though Gabriel knew she was prone to that. Angus, the priest who had presided most directly over the ceremony, had made sure to distract the Prince, for the Cythhun priest, correctly, inferred that the King did not wish to cause the couple to be disturbed. Thus, he made motions to quickly direct the couple into the back of the Church, where a few more, less ceremonial, details would be attended to.

After the other people had left, Angus would quickly speak to the couple. “Gabriel, your grandfather, and your parents, have great expectations for you. Do not disappoint them, especially your grandfather, because he is growing old, and his own life has brought enough sorrow upon him,” the man would say, speaking mostly to Gabriel.

The Cythhun priest then turned his attention to be more equally split, and continued, saying, “Thus, I request that the proof of your union be made with enough haste that good King Robert, your grandfather, may live to see it with his own eyes. For, while he is healthy as far as men of his age are concerned, he is still aging, and the Lord could command him away any night.”

After having spoken in terms that, while layered, were clear in their intent, the priest would lead the couple back out into the main section of the building. There, several guards, as well as a few returning guests, were waiting. Among them were Ingimar, Zoe, Daphne, and Myrto, the Paravallon matroness. Myrto was overjoyed to see her happy state that her daughter was in, and quickly embraced Sofia. Meanwhile Ingimar quit his conversation with Zoe to speak with his friend, the Prince.

“What a blessed day it has been for you, and may the prophet intercede on your behalf that your grandfather might be pleased too,” Ingimar said, though he was mostly joking. While Ingimar did not bear any disrespect to the King, he also did not truly care about the man’s wishes. “Pray for me that I too may have success in my wooing endeavors, and then we will once more be alike, bachelors together then, and married men together now.”

“I’m afraid you may need to worry more about Daphne than about the lord, for if you wish to take Zoe you will have to convince both her and her husband, and I have heard that she is the stricter of the two, and more judgmental in character,” Gabriel replied.

Gabriel and Ingimar would continue to speak to each other for a little while before Sofia pulled them away, as it was getting late and the couple was to retire into the city’s palace. Thus the couple, alongside the rest of the guests and the guards, made their way to the palace. Each person retired to their chamber, but the couple shared a chamber, and so retired together.

Chapter 2
The first service. Part 1

Ren’Hao awoke with a start and sat up in his bedroom in the Lin’Gao estate. He reached up to rub the sleep from his weary eyes. His anticipation of today had left him struggling to sleep well, waking repeatedly. Out of a window opposite from his bed he could see the early light slowly stretching its way across the sky. He was debating if he should try to sleep a little longer when a knock sounded at his door.

“Young lord” said the voice he quickly recognized as Jen Lan, the household servant he had grown up knowing as well as members of his own family.

The door began to slide open and Hao leapt from his bed. “I am up, Jen Lan, thank you.” he said hastily.

With a nod, Jen Lan closed the door and set off to her other duties. Hao had asked for the wake up call in case he had overslept. He had not needed it after all. He found his robes and changed before stepping from his room and heading off to have his morning meal.

The corridor was quiet and it was only then he noticed that he heard little else in the west wing of the house. Usually his father or Yan’Chen would be around but the only sounds he could distinguish were those drifting from other parts of the estate. His thoughts on the absence were quickly discarded as his stomach rumbled slightly.

Hao made his way into the courtyard that made the center of the estate. Most houses in the capital consisted of four wings built around a central rectangular courtyard. The wings were divided for various uses. While the layout could vary by the preference of the household, the northern wing always housed the shrine and served as the place of prayer and offering to the patron deities of the house, as well as the imperial ancestor who founded the empire.

In wealthier estates such as the Lin’Gao estate, who could afford to build with more expensive materials, the north wing would be flanked by a pair of small pagoda topped with domes. Some nobles would raise these towers many tiers as a show of wealth, but the Lin’Gao had sufficed with two. They were not one of the more flashy households, though it was only partly by choice. Limits existed defining how far estate designs could go depending on if a house was shouren or jiuren. A reminder of the order of things.

The other standard was the gate of the estate, which was always placed in the south. The south was an ominous direction in the empire, symbolic of the shouren flight from the south long before to escape some great disaster. Now, the south was associated with leaving, and to the more extreme, death. To tell someone they should journey south was akin to telling them they should seek death. To exist one’s estate from the south served as a reminder of where their society had come from and why, while entering directed one north, mimicking the journey their ancestors had made.

Each wing of the estate joined the courtyard via a horseshoe arch and Hao stepped through from the west. The usual table was already set up, Hao had a preference for dining here. The mornings were growing cooler, but Hao did not mind. It was also a convenient spot as the kitchen was a small building a little toward the northwest end of the courtyard and Hao could hear the cooks of the estate busy within.

The door of the kitchen opened and Jen Lan stepped through, carrying a jug that Hao assumed to be water. He seated himself as she approached, giving a slight bow before finishing the last couple feet and pouring from the jug. Hao nodded in reply. He had never been comfortable with the formality between them. Though Jen Lan was between his father and himself in age, he had grown up viewing her almost like an elder sister. She was a sharen, noted by her swarthy complexion and her rounded ears as opposed to the shaqin who had more pointed ears similar to the shouren rulers. The latter had always made him feel more at ease with relating to her.

“I did not notice father or Yan’Chen this morning” Hao noted, seeking some way to break the morning quiet.

“Your father and Yan’Chen had other business to attend to and rose early today.” she replied as she set the jug on the table. She gave him a slight smile. “But he asked me to assure you he will return in time to hear news of your first service.”

Hao felt his face warm slightly and his anxiety returned. He had recently had both his naming day when he shed the use of his childhood naming and picked a chosen name of his own to blend with his given name. He had also passed the imperial examinations and today would learn where he would be sent and what role he would be serving in.

The examinations were required of anyone who sought to serve in the imperial government, but one did not get to choose where they began if they passed. Typically they would be assessed on their strengths and knowledge and assigned where they could excel based on their abilities. Everyone had their hopes for where they would go, with many seeking to serve as assistants in the various ministries. Others sought key military postings where they might gain recommendation for further advancement in the academy, becoming officers in time.

Hao personally sought the latter. The Lin’Gao had long served the empire militarily, with his father rising high for a jiuren officer. The highest posts were usually reserved for shouren. Their family claimed lineage from one of the original commanders who had followed Jiqiao north into these lands and founded the empire.

Hao returned an anxious smile to Jen Lan. “I hope I receive one that will please him.” He finished his meal in silence as Jen Lan left to attend other duties. It made him realize how quiet the estate was when his father was gone. Hao had two brothers, but both were already away, serving in their own assignments. Yu’Chen, the eldest, had already served his initial service and was presently enrolled at the officer academy. Their other brother, Gao’Wen, was serving in the ministry of works. Soon, Hao would be the third to set out and begin his service to the empire, and bolster the influence of the Lin’Gao.

Hao finished his meal and then set off to the north wing to pay his respects at the shrine. He would make offerings first to Jiqiao, the founder of the empire whom all were expected to revere. Then to Xiansheng, the ancestor the Lin’Gao traced their lineage from and paragon of fortune, loyalty, and ascension. The patron of their household.

Chapter 2
The First Service. Part 2

Ren'Hao was halfway to the Honggong, the seat of the Ministry of Personnel, when he heard his name being called out. He paused instinctively to look for the source. It did not take long. His eyes quickly found a figure navigating their way through a nearby crowd, with many giving them odd glances or looks of disapproval.

“Cai, you should not draw so much attention to yourself in public.” Hao remarked as his close friend reached him.

Cai smiled as he dusted off his tunic a bit. His clothes were far more simple than Hao’s, a simple grey tunic with a thin tan over robe. It was tied with a leather sash Hao had given him for his naming day. “In my position, I need all the attention I can get.”

Ma’Ren Xu’Cai had been Hao’s friend since they were both small. Cai was a jiuren, like Hao, but came from a commoner background. Through his friendship with Hao, Cai had gained access to learning beyond his station, first through Hao and then through endorsement from Hao’s father, Shao’Kang. Like Hao, Cai had passed the examinations and would receive his first assignment today.

The thought made Hao pause. The two had been almost inseparable throughout their youth, but today they may well be sent to different territories of the empire. He felt a slight discomfort at the idea and it reminded him how along he would be at the beginning of whatever path lay ahead.

He also worried for his friend. While commoners were far from unheard of in the bureaucracy of the empire, there were plenty among the nobility who looked down on them. Few had dared do much more than levy words toward Cai with a sponsor like Hao’s father behind him, Hao could not help but wonder if his own presence had often served as a reminder of that. Cai would not have that wherever he went.

“You may be right, but not all attention is worth having. Just be more cautious.” said Hao.

The two continued the journey to the Honggong. Cai quickened his pace to fall in beside Hao and Hao forced himself to slow a little. Cai was smaller than himself and Hao had a habit of taking long strides and a quick pace. People sometimes asked him why he was always in such a hurry.

“Where do you think you will be assigned?” asked Cai. It was as much a conversation starter as it was a sincere question. The two had talked at length about where they each hoped they might end up for their first service. “I do hope I end up with the ministry of works, though I suppose any would do if it helps.”

Hao nodded. While Cai had interests of his own, he was primarily preoccupied with improving the standing of his family. Any path would do if he could succeed at it. “I hope for the ministry of war, myself. A posting that would help me continue to the academy of war.”

“To follow your father?” Cai asked.

“Of course, and many before him. Though I suppose even an administrative role with one of the other ministries would be fine for a first service as long as I could make use of it for my goals.” said Hao.

“Hao, always with a plan,” said Cai.

Hao smirked but he did not feel the confidence himself. A plan? Maybe. He had always had goals, long term ideals of where he wanted to end up with his life and work. But the process of getting there always felt complicated and at times overwhelming to him. He felt he was making it up as he went as much as planning anything. Cai was the one with articulate plans. He had once detailed the next twenty years of his life to Hao, complete with deadlines for various achievements. “The only true plan is success, however it must come,” he said.

The two continued to talk, about the grueling examination, future goals, and where others of their class would end up. The Honggong quickly grew as they approached, its tall walls stretching high and decorated with various shapes. The Hongong was a large building that almost resembled a trapezoid. Each of its four corners blended into a smaller square structure that housed various subministries. Hao and Cai made their way to the one to the front right of the building where they would receive their assignments. Both were eager with anticipation yet the tinge of worry passed between them as they made their way inside.

Bardzranaly The Climb Part II
Late Summer 856 АП

Under the trees that reached out to the heavens, a pair of swords carved through the air their reflections emboldened by the amber light of early day. Humanity’s unending determination to conquer nature was on full display as two young men were locked in battle with a bear. The bear, standing tall on its hind legs, swung its massive claws in an attempt to swing away the its human foes. One, Etig, ducked away from the attack but the younger of the two, Ara, did not. Claws as black as night tore across Ara’s chest leaving a trail of broken and ripped flesh in its wake. In a prolonged cry of pain and defeat, Ara dropped to the ground letting loose wails of agony. He squirmed on the ground, his knees curling into himself, one arm flailing about while the other that only moments ago held his blade now grasped his wound. Everywhere on the earth, Ara’s blood found itself.

As Ara fell, the bear’s attacks continued. She, the bear, swung with its other paw, again, Etig moved aside but this time Etig gave the bear a thrust with his sword just under the armpit. Now it was the bear who fell back reeling from the blade’s sting. Etig had but a brief second to move his gaze over to Ara. His friend was dying and Etig knew if he did not get him to Tsalenak within the day he would not make it. Etig turned his attention back to the battle as his opponent had recovered. The bear was on all four of his paws as she leapt forward towards Etig, slobber drooling from the beast’s gaped-open jaw. As the creature did so Etig quickly slashed from right to left with his sword striking the bear across its face. From the right brow to its snarling snout a scar of flesh was carved. The creature’s right eye was cut fluid and blood poured from the socket but it was not enough to deter it.

The bear launched another assault and Etig held up his left arm as the jaws of the beast clamped down on his exposed flesh. Bone became broken, skin pierced, and muscles were torn apart as the animal tightened its bite. The man bellowed, his guttural cries left his body and echoed throughout the mountains. With the creature occupied mauling at his arm, Etig began repeatedly stabbing the bear’s flank with his sword. Each thrust into it and pull from the creature’s hide made it only clasp down harder. Man and beast locked eyes, Etig thought to himself as time slowed, If God is the creator and made us in his image then who did he use to create this creature?

The bear began to waver and slouch, her jaws released Etig’s arm as it began stepping back mortally wounded and with a heavy limp on its right side as the stab wounds from Etig’s blade left its mark. Etig fell to his knees in exhaustion as blood surged forth and cracked shards of bone protruded from his mauled forearm. The bear stood up again but as Etig began to raise the bear fell forward, the crash of the giant’s body launched green leaves and loose dirt up from the ground with its momentous impact. The beast was dead but so would Ara if Etig was unable to save him. Etig staggered over to Ara who lay still breathing heavily on his back as he faced towards the heavens. Against Ara’s ghostly white skin, the deep red blood pooled around the gash marks. It was a grotesque sight.

Etig placed his right hand over the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was not enough. Ara looked to Etig and through his haggard breaths and drying tears he spoke softly, “Etig … save me, Etig … I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die, please Etig …”

Ara’s words ceased as did his breaths. Life had abandoned his body. Ara, a boy of seventeen winters, betrayed by his brother and left with nothing but his name and friend, was dead. Etig, with his one good arm, wrapped it around the back of Ara’s head lifting it from the ground. He wept and hoped that his embrace would bring back his friend but it would not. He gently lowered his friend to the earth and spoke, “What justice is this? If God and the Prophet Anania were just it would be I there and you here…”

His tears grew in intensity and his eyes closed shut in an attempt to stave off the flood, “… what evils have I spoken for whom am I to speak of the will of God or the Prophet?”

Etig stood as he looked up to the sky, its vast blues were steadily replaced with the grey hues of storm clouds. He called out, “Is this your will? This cruelty? Make me understand this or strike me down!”

Thunder cracked as winds from the Eastern Steppe climbed the mountain slopes until the air became cool enough to condense its vapour to rain. A gentle rain came down. Etig bent to his knees and looked back at Ara’s corpse before removing his necklace, a simple gold chain that carried a small piece of emerald, the only object he had from his late mother. Etig then grabbed Ara’s blade and wrapped the necklace around the cross-guard of the sword. He rose again to his feet using the sword as a makeshift walking stick as he shambled away from the battleground.

Montalieu. Capital of the Grand Kingdom. 856 ΑΠ
The new monarch stands.
A kingdom full of promise.
The red throne awaits.

It has been quite the commotion since the abdication of King Adalger I. The whole kingdom was shocked by such an announcement as Adalger ruled the realm with an even hand, not once showing an ounce of tyranny to his subjects. The people of Montalieu have been preparing the capital city for the day of ascension of Crown Prince Ernault, who will be christened as King Adalger II. Ernault was having his uniform tailored by several servants for the momentous occasion at the primary chateau of the royal family. Ernault spent his whole life preparing to lead his House and kingdom but mourned that the opportunity came so soon.

Though he can’t blame his father who was nearing the twilight years of his life. Having ruled a tranquil reign that saw little bloodshed from its populace, it was rather perplexing the more Ernault thought on it. It was when a knock made him return to reality.

“Is everything ok my son? May… I enter?” asking politely in such a baritone voice that would shake even the tallest mountain tremble in fear. The tailors stopped what they were doing as if they were in trouble. The prince just quickly shook a quick and mouthed to continue their work.

“Uh, mmhmm, yes you can enter Your Majesty.” He replied as he was standing on the pedestal as the tailors continued to get the uniform ready. He was in a t-posing position that was going on for about an hour.

“No need for formalities my boy. I just want to know how you are doing.” Sassing his son as he rarely showed this side when not ruling the kingdom. Ernault sighed softly as he knew well to vent to his father.

“Afraid, father. It is quite difficult to get accustomed to such a role.” Saying with full honesty as the king can sense the hesitancy. Adalger listened intently, hearing the other’s concerns. “Never thought it would come to this.” He said as he looked at the mirror, wearing the blood-red uniform with a billowing cape it felt like wearing a veil on a wedding dress.

“Oh? When you were but a boy, you always wanted to be the king of Ausruni and sit on the Red Throne. Why stiffen up like a fawn about to be killed by a wolf?” The king asks firmly even as the tailors shuddered their breath as they did their duty in respectful silence. Though they were quite eager to get out of such a tender moment between two family members.

“I do father. I just… never understood how you command such authority and keep the kingdom in check. How do you do it?” He said as the tailors allowed him to rest his arms.

“Quite simple. You must show no emotion when commanding your people even if it means well or it does not. Our subjects will show you how they feel about how you rule over them that includes with the other Houses underneath our flag. Its one step away from cutting yourself on your sword if you make a mistake.” The soon-to-be former king stood by the window, having a good view of the inner castle courtyard and beyond that a view of the city below, getting ready for the big day as well.

“… I see. I shall bring our name to greatness as well as you did.” Ernault said with a chipper attitude which brought a smile to his father.

“I am only telling you this now as I did my best to make sure you are ready for this day. I know you will bring a new age to our kingdom.” He looked back staring at what he was seeing.

“Thank you, father. It means a lot to hear that from you. I do swear to bring glory to the throne and to let the world know of Ausruni.” The prince replied as he stepped down from the pedestal to embrace his father in a warm hug which the former monarch happily reciprocated.

“Only if your mother can see you now. I am very proud of the man you have come to be.” Adalger said with pride in voice. “Our House stands strong because of us and may our subjects bask in the glory of our fruitful endeavors.” The king stood there in the hug before stepping aside.

“Come now. The city awaits for us. I shall wait for you by the carriage outside. Prepare a speech for the time being and be very careful of what you are going to say to our subjects.” Adalger dutifully reminds his only son of what is to come.

“Thank you, father. I will.” He said before allowing the tailors to finish preparing him for his coronation.

“I have to say your Highness, or is it your Majesty now? Your father is quite intimidating with his voice. I thought he was going to throw us out the window for taking too much time prettying you up.” Head Tailor Galterus had said with such sass in made the prince chuckle.

“Haha no. You would have been thrown out for less than just prettying me up.” Ernault retorted back. “And until I am officially declared king, it is only ‘Your Highness’ you daft.” Chuckling at the jab he made to Galterus which made the tailor laugh at the comment.

“Alright. Until you are king, Your Highness.” Galterus joked along with the prince before being silenced by a grunt from one of the female tailors who was not pleased that they were wasting time. Indeed, the Red Throne was waiting for its new monarch to come and sit and proclaim a new age for the Grand Kingdom of Ausruni.

Forum View

Advertisement