A Brave New World: Middle Age Kennan

[The Hackleberry Islands]

The year is 1330. Kennan is bursting at the seams with change.

The mighty civilizations of Kennan's mainland loom over the continent. The land that forms modern day Herodas is caught in the middle of a large divide between the Samukan and Jakeopia allied western half of the continent, and the Ethan Foley and People's Republic of Wilder controlled eastern portion. Both sides of the continent stand poised against each other, as the delicate balance of influence and power swings back and forth between the east and west. However, this may be soon subject to change, with the tensions rising between Samukan and Jakeopia, the originally prepared alliances may fragment as nations turn upon one another.

The Sandwichsphere of today does not exist as of 1330 - The Sandwich Territories will be discovered by England in 1543. And in turn, the Sandwichians will sail south and colonize the Hackleberry Islands in 1550. The islands that will constitute the Sandwichsphere today remain uninhabited, leaving a gap in Central Kennan.

The continent of Jugperendimore, contrasting mainland Kennan, has developed into multiple smaller nation-states that will absorb territories and fragment with time. Many nations and physical states that exist today, such as Kennanite Guadalajara, the Rytz/Rutz Peninsula, the Spriteland monarchy, or Spaztislavia, may have their existence in modern-day Kennan formed due to events that will occur on Jugperendimore. Other areas, such as the isolated Azerian Empire, the Sausage States/Rimpian divide, or the mysterious kingdom of Avar Khanate, may owe their backstories due to events that have yet to happen.

However, there are stories that that yet to be told. The backstories and cultures of Kennan's modern day nations depend on the decisions made now.

History will be made today.

---

Rules:

1. Use your best judgement in all situations, and follow standard RP etiquette. No godmodding, abusive behavior, etc. Essentially, don't be a tool and you'll be fine. Moderation will get involved if players can't follow this rule.

2. Stick to the time period. While space lasers and sonic rifles are awesome, it's 1330. So, all technology should correlate with middle age periods. Any questions, don't hesitate to consult a mod regarding the subject.

3. This RP is designed to be flexible. It can tell the stories of the daily lives of lowly artisans, or chronicle the lives and decisions of the heads of state of your nation. With perspective, anything goes. If a player has established what they want to RP about/has established an event, don't change the subject unless it somehow relates to said previous event, or the previous topic is dead.

4. No named character should be killed without their creator's permission. While this falls under RP etiquette, it should be stressed that for this particular RP, no named character can be killed off without consent from it's creator. Unnamed characters are fine, such as an unnamed soldier or criminal.

5. Be creative with your nation's choices! And have fun with this RP. It can be about anything, as long as it sticks to the time period and technology level.

[USSJ]

The harsh cold wind never seems to leave. "We are The Exalted Jakeopian Empire! Do you hear me!". A massive sea of soldiers replies yes. The Grand Exalted King Jacques the III stands tall atop his steed. His hard face stares at the troops. "How dare Samukan defy us. We shall show them. They slew our greatest general. Now they will pay!” The soldiers begin slamming their weapons on their shield. "We'll show those pigs!" One of the soldiers shouts. The Grand Exalted King Jacques the III points his sword in the air. More specifically in the direction of Samukan. The Exalted Jakeopian Empire was now ready to go to war. For months there had been conflict in Kennan and now it will all lead up to this. War.

5 months earlier.

Atop a hill stands a lonesome Samukan village. Flames burn and the smell of smoke lingers. "HAA HA! You damned fools!" Boris Lucan one of the greatest warriors in Jakeopia holds his axe in the air. He swings it and strikes a bandit. "There your wee little village has been saved!" "T-th-th-thank you, but did you really have to burn the village?" A random villager from Samukan sits on a stump. "Ah shut it. Be happy you're not dead" Boris signals his men to gather. "We'll be heading back to Jakeopia! If you ever need to be rescued again make sure you have the gold ready next time." "O-o-o-okay" The man stand up "What about the gold we owe you now?". Boris turns around "We'll send someone to collect it." A few hours later Boris and his crew are lodging at an inn around the Samukan-Jakeopia border. "Oi! Boris! Why'd we burn the village again? Din't really make sense." Boris gets up from his bed "We did what had to be done, I don't know if that so called Exalted King knows it, but Samukan is ready." "Ready for what!" Boris chucks meat at one of his troops "I don't know, but they're ready for something."

[Guadalajara]

1297

"It's a new day for the Tarascan state" Irepani got off his canoe and stepped on the soft sand of the coast. Followed by him and four other Purepecha warriors were a dozen more canoes. "Today, Jimbani Uexurhina, is the dawn of the New Tarascan Empire." Irepani looked around, with his chest puffed out. He was proud of finally reaching the destination generations before him tried without avail to reach. Instantly they started gathering wood for the celebration of Jimbani Uexurhina. A small group of hunters left off to look for food while scouts scavenged around, just in case.

A couple hours later, everything was ready. The bonfire was lit and the food and drinks were ready. Irepani got up and stood right next to the fire. "MEN! Today symbolizes the beginning of a New Era. A New Era for the Tarascan Empire, filled with change and the promise of new land. Now, bring the Tarahumara!" A young man was dragged onto a huge stone. "Yancuic tochan, teoyohtica tlacama teochihuaz." He cut a hole in the mans chest, and proceeded to break the sternum and a couple of ribs. The man almost instantly past out, but Irepani ripped of his heart while it was still beating. "Yancuic Xolal, New Life."

1330

"Yrecha Irepani, Tlatoque Tariacuri is here." said Irepani's counselor. "Tell him to come in, tell the others to start packing, we're moving in a couple hours." The counselor scampered away and Tariacuri came inside. "I've been wanting to talk to you." Said Tariacuri. "About what, sir?" Irepani was very nervous. "I think you should settle down, we can teach you things." he hesitated. "We have finished building Tzintzuntzan, and we learnt to grow food. You should try it, we could give you supplies." Irepani sat down, he was too old to stand around for long periods of time. "I don't know if we're ready." He said. "Trust me, it will be worth it." Replied Tariacuri. "Fine. Quemah." They shook hands and Tariacuri left. Irepani called for his advisor. "Forget leaving. Order them to set the tents back up." Irepani demanded. "But sir, we all are ready to leave." His counselor replied. "I said, we are staying! Go! Now!" Irepani ordered.

[Spaztislavia]

Year 1325: The 2 biggest houses in the elective Tkuzardom of Spaztislavia merge under the Dnei, who ruled over the western part of the region. This leaves the road open for Sviatoslav I of Dnei to inaugurate the Imperial Tkuzardom, taking power from the minor noble families, and overall centralizing the Tkuzardom. He was no saint, but a great man, and very devote, who expanded the Faith over the most unruly areas of the kingdom, and expanded the frontier south, next to the mountains, getting some valuable trade ports with incoming goods from the west.

One fatidical* day of year 1330 of our lord he left us to join his ancestors, leaving his son Sviatoslav II in the throne. This is his story, and the story of many Spaztislavians of both noble- and low-birth, some of them bandits of the mountains, some of them generals in the army, some of them farmers, some of them princes.

Year 1330: 8th of August

Barracks of Spaztislaviaska. The floor is splatted with mud near the entrance. Some warriors, their rusty armours soaking wet because of the rain, train with some dummies to the left. The Hetman**, Kryztov Voldzicky*** was sitting in his small office space, filling in documents, to the right, separated by a very thin wall.


That's all he has been doing since the conquest of the Tseai duchy, to the south of the country, right next to the mountains. He had a lot to do before the coronation of Sviatoslav II, which took place the 10th of August. The old Tkuzar had been dead for 7 months, and he hadn't decided who to grant the duchy to before his death. As the coronations took place in August, the highest ranked official, the Hetman, had function as a regent, and it was also his duty to coronate the new Tkuzar. One of his duties as regent was to designate a proper ruler for the duchy of Tseai, but the right to do it is reserved for the Tkuzar, so it meant a lot of bureaucracy for choosing proper candidates, ensuing no nepotism or favouritism. He was between two candidates at this point, and had to make his choice and present it to the Tkuzar right after the coronation.

OOC
* Does this word exists? Merriam Webster tells me it does, but Chrome marks it as wrong.
** Based on the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth highest ranks, there where 4, 2 for the Polish throne and 2 for the Lithuanian duchy. Spaztilavia has 3, Krystov Voldzicky from the Spaztislavian crown, Sergei Zemlya from the duchy of Dnei, and Nikholaz Yelsin from the west bank duchy.
*** Distant ancestor of Spaztislavia current president, Stanislav Voldzicky.

[saphlua]

(NORTH OF THE CURRENT-DAY NATION OF SAPHLUA)

The Winter of 1332, in the season of the Sunless Rains: The hunters wander through the deep snow under the inky night sky, heading south across the fields and valleys. There is not much hope nor celebration among them. The winter has been hard, and they must find a new home before the entire village dies of hypothermia. Perhaps they can find a new, warmer home to the south. Hope is warm, one thinks. Warm like fire, like the sun. We have lost the sun.

3 Days later: There is a river up ahead, the scouts say. It is all frozen over and a tree has fallen across it and has not broken the ice. On the other side, not far away - perhaps 30 riens'l, there is some hope. Some green, some warmth. There are trees there, and animals, and life. They call it the Esaph'l, after the smooth, lush valleys, and they call it the Rilir, after the high mountains singing to the clouds and stars above. There is hope there. And it is only five days away! They must return. They must bring the entire village, for there is hope there, like the fire and like the sun.

On their return there is a new vigor in the footsteps of all. They do not have to suffer the harsh winters anymore.

OOC [
Translations:
"The Season of the Sunless Rains" is another word for the coldest time of winter, with the longest nights. On this particular winter the temperature was devasting: about -29 degrees fahrenheit or -33 degrees celsius. The snow had an effect as well, of course: all two and a half feet of it.
A riens'l is approximately 2.3 miles or 3.7 kilometers as the crow flies. (There is no actual language yet but I'm working on one slowly.)
The first name for the Saphluan region was Esaph'lir, but it eventually changed to Saphlua ('Saphlua)*.
Saphlua means "pure" or "smooth" in the tongue of the same name.

*When "S" is used at the beginning of a word in the Saphluan language, it is pronounced literally: as "es."
]

[southganja]

1301 was surely a decisive year for Harald, der Verrückt (Harald the Crazy). He was surrounded by unfriendly neighbors, and his ganja crop was being envied for all the other twelve tribes of the coalision, for they were green and strong, and no pestilence could afford cast ruin upon it, even in that times of scarse pleasure and hard work.
He was a warrior, not a politician, and the word-based conflict that was nesting itself every council meeting was driving him crazier than he already was. But he was the head of the coalision and he knew that these were times of scarse pleasure and hard work, so he joined his comitive and headed to Marijua, where the heads of each tribe wanted to speak.

There were the twelve other Könige, the kings of ganja. Around the great table were sitting the mightiest of that vast territory. There were Rengar Kopfjager, the Head of the Shore Shrine People, the Strandglaubere, and Veigar der Schwarz, from the Inland Shore tribe (die Schwarzwaldesvolk), Viktor Hangsmann from the mountain clan (Die Hochsvolk), Skarner Kristallnarbe, from the Knightdom of long southern border (Südreiteresvolk), Harald's strongest allies, Viktor Bleu, Ingmarr Spazleer and Oskar Herzlos, wich together formed the first tribal coalition, the Inner Ganja council. There were also the head of the nameless tribe wich was formed by the outcasts of the war of the rolling heads, a hideous event wich anihilated every minor clan or settlement and solidified the power of the 13 heads. His name is also Harad, but he is called "The Desperate", for his people hated the sword, and was yet about to consolidate itself as a tribe; for them, Harald the desperate was the king of low Ganja and the Ganjan Trapped sea, and he spoke for his dozens of minor sires who were always fighting to expand or keep their short territories.
The remaining four leaders did not attended the meeting; some were too old, like Zelda Rothaare, the mother of many, who ruled the most populous tribe, Die Viele, located near where today are the triple border between north ganja, the Helvetican Confederation and The Hadron Federation. Other were too injuried, as Veronika Geist, a traveller queen who ruled a nomad tribe of mercenarian horsemen named Freiheitreitere, and had her leg trespassed by a joust lance in a far away territory. Two were absent for unknown reasons - Vladmir Ganjaraucher from the fleet of many, who ruled the oceans and rivers of the thirteen tribes, and Violeta Mayer, Duchess of Luna, the biggest and only real city of the Union.

- What brings us here today - Started Viktor Bleu, the landowner - is of utter importance if we are willing to consolidate this union. I have news from abroad - many of the united kingdoms and other dominions are consolidating itselves in another, more solid kind of state. The Nation.

Veigar the Black stood up and empitied his cup. He made a moviment with his arm, offering the cup to a servant, who hurried himself to refil it.
- Tell us how does this Nation thing differ from us, a council? What do they do that we can not?

Herr Bleu took a short glance at Harald, the Crazy. The head of the heads was laying his attention much in the refreshments and less in the subject. But Viktor kept talking.

- First one time, they consolidate their culture by creating a mix of every minor aspect of their territory. They give the whole place a single name, so people from north would fight alongside with people from south, for they recognize themselves as brothers. Their lords and heads give up their personal simbols and every and one would use the same colours, the same stamp.

- That is pig ass job - replied Veigar while sitting back - My people would not accept be ruled by an outsider. Neither would I. And we could tolerate some of the tribes and kingdoms here today - His eyes stood in Oskar Herzlos for a moment as he made a short pause - but we would never be brothers. There is too much wrangle between several families from our and the other side of the borders. Blood has been shed, and we still await for justice.
- That is how it gets interesting - they would. If you manage to create in the heart of your volk the feeling that every other man inside our territory is a brother, and if every and one in this council manage to do the same, then we have a nation. We must bond each other and survive to the times that are coming, or die alone as steppe wolves.
Harald the Crazy hawked. People looked at him.
- Who would be the head of this Nation?

Viktor glanced quickly his peers. It was bad for politics to reach the point so straight away, but he was cornered.
- I was thinking about you, Headchief.

The man who was called insane smiled for the first time in a long time. That would not be swallowed by some members of the council easily, for the pride was too big in some of them. Blood would flow before one could rule.
- Then we need to think about our only colours.

Most men rose themselves, fists closed and mouths open, ready to protest. Viktor opened his arms before anyone could talk, and stared at Harald's eyes.
- We will need a banner.