Ali and the Golden Sun

[The_Oan_Isles]

Ali had envisaged something different for himself. He had envisaged his travels to Borea being full of adventure and wealth. He came at a personal crossroads instead that made him question many of the fragile beliefs that had formed the basis of his perception of reality.

There was love for a woman and guilt for killing her and more broadly putting her people in danger. There was self-resentment for failing to acquire the treasure that would restore his family to honour. There was the bitterness at the King and General Yeshu a Abdullahu for betraying his trust and usurping his authority. There was shame for letting it happen in the first place; for being foolish enough to leave wide open his flanks for the swords to slash.

He put his head in his hands and tried to search for an answer, to find some solution as he ordinarily could, but nothing was forthcoming. How ever deep he mined the strategems of his mind for some sort of escape, he seemed to reach an impossibly hard, unyielding and desolate basalt rock.

He slipped quietly within the crowds of people gathering at the house of worship in Damasaku city. Wearing a brown hood over his head, he took it off as he entered the threshold of the door. He faced the direction of that holy city known as Al-Quds to the Arabs or as Jerusalem to the Codexians, that holy city where Allah was said to have formed man from dust, where Isa was said to have died and risen from the dead, where Mohammed went up a ladder to heaven to receive and speak the instruction of Allah, where cultures and religions came together in a fragile bond that came with each saying in his own tongue stemming from his own beliefs: “Allahu Ackbar” - “God is Great”.

They kneeled and prayed, together like a body working in unison, each ones little energy and strength spreading, connecting and empowering. In their prostration before the Almighty, they seem indomitable before Man. This is what Ali sought from the Maker’s hand: the strength and will to go back and continue the mission that he had perceived as his defining moment and upon which he placed such singular importance that the presence of the Little Lady, and the transformative power of loving and being loved by her, had jolted him jarringly from the reality he had conceived.

Although he had whispered his prayers, his voice burnt as though he had been screaming at the top of his pulmonary capacity. His throat itched and his voice was raspy as he recited the words of the Book of Faith, upon which his nation and the nation of Morsts and others would build their faith, would establish the premise and purpose of their existence and would devote themselves to manifest in the toil of service or the struggles of war as each saw fit.

Such was the transformative power that came with obeisance and prostration of oneself before the Almighty. He had been running and running in the pursuit of treasure material and finite, and honour and glory human and ending, using God as a means to end rather than being used by God as a means to His ends and divine will, that he had forgotten his duty as a vessel and the wonder of being filled with the wine of agape.

His mission in Borea seemed to expand and find new dimension and lend itself new colour and light, that he himself arose from humiliation and scorn with vigour and strength. He left the house of worship upon the conclusion of the service. The Overseer had hung a poster outside that new proselytes were being sought to travel to the New Realms, as Borea was being increasingly called in the public discourse and state communication, to convert the savages, to build schools, teach language and bring the order that Allah had bequeathed Hama to those nations of brutes and pagans as well.

By this route he would return, and this time, undertake his mission guided by higher wisdom that his fallible and limited mind. While the journey would prove even harder, he remained resolute.

[The_Oan_Isles]

The King was growing increasingly impatient with the progress or lack thereof in Borea. Asserting his influence and bringing Borea into his suzerainty was an urgent task. His General, Yeshu a Abdullahu, had prove more effective and loyal than most, but it seemed that the colonisation of the continent required more than one man, regardless of his intelligence.

He drafted a letter to inform the General of his intentions and the methods that must be employed to achieve that. He told the General that he wanted to increase the force that was under his command and the means available to him to take over.

The General was in his fortress, studying the plans for war, when the messengers brought an elegantly sealed letter to him. He opened the letter and studied it’s contents carefully, wishing not to take anything out of context or miss any important details.

When he was satisfied that he had indeed read and understood the letter as carefully and as fully as possible he was satisfied. Three armies would trek across this land, conquer its people and assimilate it into the Hamanian Empire. Having availed these resources to him, the King had given the General the berth he needed to do this quicker.

On 10 July 1692, the First Expeditionary Group led by Lieutenant Sulemanu a Isaku marched onto the plateau east of the Fatimu River. Thistle Bush Village lay on the other side some kilometres away. Scouts warned the chief of the growing presence of the dark skinned people: a large army had set up camp.

The group was not only a military but comprised of women, farmers, tanners, hunters, artisans and children. Their intention was to build a settlement. The plains east of Fatimu River provided them with everything that they needed to realise the Hamanite settlement of the Borean interior.

The natives crossed the river at two points were the water was lowest. They outnumbered the settlers considerably. They had prepared for this time since they first found out that the Hamanites wanted to take their land. These Hamanites had not been dissuaded by the heads that hung on trees spelling “BEWARE” in just about every language on the planet.

The settlers had organised themselves in groups called laggers. Waggons, hauled by oxen, surrounded the camp within. They clustered themselves in groups as they worked during the day and slept at night so they could keep watch. The great army of soldiers had set up rudimentary defences around the entire settlement.

The natives came on two sides of the settlers, having a two pronged attacked. The fired arrows. They struggled to break through the surrounded “shield” and attacked a few laggers. They shot arrows indiscriminately; women and children were just as much a target as the men were.

The soldiers lifted their muskets into the sky shooting at the air. The sound of gunfire startled the natives. This led to a momentary hesitation that enabled the soldiers to put the natives off balance. On their horses and feet, they shot at and attacked the natives. Although the natives outnumbered the settlers, they were no match for their horses and guns. They fled over the crossing that they had over from.

The Hamanites chased them over, but some were swept away by the swelling water. They attacked the village. Although the native men tried to defend their town, they were surrounded on all sides. The Hamanites killed every last man standing, avenging their fallen brethren by placing the nature’s heads all over the forest. The Hamanites were equally capable of barbarism.

The women were captured and brought as plunder of war. Each soldiers had a woman to comfort him on this long and difficult journey. Ali was there too.

He looked different from how he had always looked primarily because his sense of style had changed (or disappeared). He was now a proselyte. Together with his Abrahamist brothers, they tended to the needs of the people and helped build the settlement. It took seven years for them to build the town that would be known as Abdullahubadu, named after the General.

The town was built largely of wood, but stone had been used to form the foundations upon which the structures stood. The Abdullahubadu House of Worship was a collosal dome that stood at the centre of town. It was comprised largely of the auditorium in which worshippers met on Saturdays.

The House of Worship was surrounded by a large space where people met. Houses were built to the east. The military compound lay to the north east, made up of barracks for soldiers and an armoury to store weapons. To north was built a library, hospital and school. The the west was the massive marketplace were goods were traded. To the south was the riverport of Abdullahubadu, which consisted of marinas and drydocks. Slightly further south, a bridge going across the river had been built. The city had tall towers at each corner providing views thoughout the area. On the eastern side of the Fatimu River and surrounding the town were massive farms and orchards.

For seven years the town was fairly peaceful and proved the anchor for inland expansion, frontiers shifting more and more northward. The natives came often to raid cattle, but were usually captured and enslaved. Many native slaves worked on the plantations, tilling the land and herding herds of goats and cattle and sheep.

[The_Oan_Isles]

Ali led an expedition into the unexplored interior of Borea, consisting of five hundred men. It was a difficulty trip. They had suffered from malnutrition, disease and the bitter cold that came with winter. Short days and cold nights made active work difficult. Hunting, farming and gathering, building and digging were very difficult.

Gradually spring rolled around banishing the winter clouds, melting the winter ice and liberating the fertility of the land. Ali followed rumours and stories of gold that came from pre colonial and colonial sources. The only way to verify the veracity of these claims was to go there himself.

This led the team to many dead ends. They would arrive and dig for gold, searching for the white crystal veins that were signs of the presence of gold. Ali was growing disheartened and his men grew impatient. Some of them were slaves and could do nothing about their circumstances. But the free men were a problem. They had rights and expectations and eventually wanted to see results.

They were growing tired of the trek Ali was putting them through. For two years they had searched for the fabled Golden Sun that Ali spoke messianically of. One day they threatened to go back home. Ali tried to convince them to stay but they were growing impatient and were preparing for the road.

Ali didn’t know what to do. For fourteen years he had been here and time was not on his side. He was not married and did not have children. He knew that settling down also meant being tied down. He went up a hill and looked out over the valley and then… he saw it…

[King_Rico]

Royal Palace, Luthernburg
June 28th,1692

Queen Victoria was making her way down the chambers of Whovania when a aid rushed to her side, he bowed before he spoke “Your majesty there seems to be a issue in Borea, our Colonies have been reporting increasing sightings of foreign ships and peoples. I don’t believe this is a invasion your majesty but encroachment upon Royal possessions is worrying, if i may recommend we dispatch a fleet of Frigates and scout ships to secure our region” he says. She looked in shock, unaware who the invaders were here frustration became clear in the tone of her voice, “My grandfather and Mother worked hard to maintain our control over borea! Has it come to a point were i can not rule over my own kingdom with the free will and respect for it’s sovereignty on this god forsaken piece of stone. Preservation of one’s own culture does not require contempt or disrespect for other cultures.” she pauses for a second and looks at the young man, she gently lays her hand on his shoulder “A really strong woman accepts the war she went through and is ennobled by her scars. The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him, not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.”

She breaths and stands up straight with her diamond crown on her head, “You tell the chief of Naval and Marine corps to deploy defense positions throughout our territorial control, they shall defend the Borea Colonies with there lives, we will not surrender additional resources will be sent soon. It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it. Do not attack unless attacked first, we wish for peace not war.” she walks off down the hall and into a underground tunnel to the parliament, she could only imagine the fire storm erupting already.

[hr]

Southeast Borea (Present Day Middleantis)
July 10th, 1692

Gaspar Calahorra was a 26 year old Marine living in the colonial town of Vesque, he was sitting at the table with his family when a loud banging came from the front of the house, he walked over to the door and opened it “Admiral. Meneses what a surprise to see you here sir, what exactly can I do for you I was just in the middle of super with my family” he says before letting him in.

The Admiral looked at him with a weary face before waving to his family, “Evening Ms. Calahorra, Lt. im here to tell you that we have been called into action, Her Majesty wants us to make contact with the unknown faces we have been seeing near the colonies. You have 3 hours tell we ride out into the Borea forest” he pats him on the back and walks out the door and onto his horse.

Gaspar looked at his wife who face quickly turned red as tears start to come down her eyes, “Why do you have to go, theirs thousands of soldiers here and here they pick you” she starts to cry harder covering her face, he quickly grabs her and begins holding her. "My love you do not have to worry, im sure these people are peaceful and no harm will come to us, I need you to be strong for our child mi amor, i have to pack " he kisses her on the forehead and goes to there room .

3 hours later at the barracks in town center, the 60 marines waved everyone a goodbye as they go on there horses and sped out into the wilderness, the warm July breeze could be felt cooling down as the wind hit Gaspar face, it had been 3 months since he had last been deployed anywhere. All he could think about is who were these people that could have been foolish enough to stumble into Kalatian territory, could they be friends? or were they enemies? His ambitions grew and rushed through his body, “Today I choose life. Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain… To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it. I will not fail my queen, for Kalatianburg” he cheered to himself in his head, the journey to the Unknown has just begun.

[Jacknotch]

Presidential Manor, Imperium
April 2nd,1692

President Gadehi Wilkfolk, always curious about the world, is studying maps of Urth in his office while his secretary is working on papers ranging from taxes to legislation to petitions. He was also a former Xagrurgian Republican Marine, who served onboard several Xagrurgian naval vessels as part of their marine detachments against Ethalrian skirmishes. While studying the maps, he noticed something off about the continents. “Surely there can’t be that much water with no landmasses in there,” he noted. (This is before Gowanda and Atlantia were discovered by the Xagrurgians.) “Hmmm,” he said. “If my suspicions are correct, there’s a whole new world we’re not aware of,” he reasoned. “I could use my connections in the Senate to grant me the exploratory mission,” he thought to himself. After a couple of hours of political hobnobbing and a couple bottles of scotch being gifted to certain people, the Senate grants the President Wilkfolk’s exploration mission. A fleet of 5 galleons is convened at the harbor in Eidenburgh and loaded with elite Republican Marines armed with muskets designed to work reliably and accurately in case the ships are attacked by pirates and with the marines are books on philosophy, republicanism, and treatises to use with foreign governments and crates of fruits and salted fish are loaded on as well with jewels. Admiral Curok Pipua is assigned to be the fleet leader. He has a sterling record for reliability and bravery and was commeneded for utilizing several innovative maneuvers against Ethalrian fleets in the last Xagrurgian-Ethalrian War. He and his men are wished good luck and set sail for new lands.
June 28, 1692
So far, the men of chartered out what seems to be the eastern coast of a southern continent (Gowanda) and encountered some local natives along the way, trading for fish with them. The men start wondering whether going on this trip was a good idea but suddenly, one of the people in the sparrow’s nest on the lead ship spots land ahead and alerts the rest of the fleet, which starts heading towards it. (They’re heading towards the peninsula of Forodhar on Atlantia.)

[King_Rico]

Avila, Provinces Of Duseta, Kalatianburg(Present Day Fordhar)
June 28th, 1692

In the small coastal town of Avila, June 28th was like any other day waiting on shipments from the Oans and Dovans. Avila was a favorite port city for the Royal 9th Naval Fleet due to its large number of Pubs and women, inside the watchtower along the shore they notice a unfamiliar flag. “Ring the bloody bell, its intruders on the horizon” a Watchmen screamed from the tower. A young boy ran as quickly as possible to the center of the town, he enters the pubs one by one alarming the sailors of the ships. The men run to there ships and underwent the slow and heavy movement of the 3 Great ships out of the cozy harbor, after around 30 minutes they reach within firing rang of the unknown ships, they surround the fleet and point 30 of the 60 assorted cannons on board each Kalatian ship at the Xagurgian ships from all angles, “Now you boys best come out them ships and show your self, I hate to have to blow some holes in these beautiful ships of yours” the captain of the lead ship HMKS Zideno yelled over to the Lead ship of the other fleet.

On the island Men & boys grabbed there swords and hatchets and joined the Whovanian Militia along the shore, the people of the town were sure these were the same men who had been wondering the lands of Borea they heard about. “Could it be them the ones from Borea” a young boy ask a soldier, “If it is Ill let you shoot your first Musket today boy” the soldier happily replied before walking back to his post.

[Jacknotch]

Admiral Curok Pipua is on the top deck of his flagship, a man-o-war armed with powerful canons and made of the strongest timber, the XNV Independence, when he notices the rather hostile response from the natives on the coast. “For fuck’s sake, this is one hell of a first contact. Crewmen, man the guns but use the international flag code to tell them we are not hostile. Fly the numbers 4576 as it means ‘I mean to keep sail set, and carry on all night, as I am anxious to get into port.‘ (Marryat’s Code OOC) Hopefully these guys use the same flag code. Meanwhile, get the marines to their battlestations and man the swivel guns.” The sailors and marines immediately get to work and signal the rest of the Xagrurgian fleet of the admiral’s orders. All of the ships begin to fly the flag with the number 4576 on them and await for a response.

[The_Oan_Isles]

Southern Borea
circa 1692

Steady progress had been made to expand Hamanian suzerainty over large parts of Borea. The natives were fairly primitive; they were unsophisticated brutes who lacked culture or religion. The Hamanites saw themselves as a civilising force; they brought art, science, law, order and religion. In return for which, they were rewarded with land and slaves.

They had already built settlements, one of which was a port, and assimilated the native population to some extent. Their trudge into Borea was unhindered as there was a lack of a serious force to fight them. The natives were surprisingly organised and determined, but they were ill-disciplined and lacked the fire power to fight the Hamanites head on. For twelve years, these wars went on as the frontiers pushed further north.

[hr]
Southern Borea
circa 1704

Ali was sitting on a stone on a hill overlooking the valley beneath. He came here to contemplate his next move. It was difficult to come up with any ideas that could lead them to gold. He started to feel as though the Golden Sun did not exist.

Then he looked at the otherside of the valley and saw something golden sparkling. He jumped up to get a closer look. He felt certain that what he had seen was indeed golden. He rode on his horses and took about two dozen men across the valley to investigate what he had seen.

They walked at a steady pace across the forest, navigating their way through the thick foliage and over the uneven ground. The site where Ali had seen the golden sparkle was high up the hill, and they had to climb. Some of them stayed with the horses, while the rest climbed up the hill.

Eventually they reached the mouth of a cave. White tendrils wrapped the rock like the veins beneath the skin. They branched out and gave the rock a glittering quality. The cave was dark. They lit their torches and tied themselves together using long chords of rope. They felt around using sticks.

Water dripped gently in the distance and the air gradually grew more cold and still as they got deeper and deeper. A faint bubbling sound, like the rapids of a river, could be heard in the distance. There was some sort of underground river.

They got deeper and deeper until the entrance was no longer visible. They entered a part of the cave were the space was large. It was a massive chamber. There were geometric rock formations that looked like broken pillars and staircases, the ruins of an ancient civilisation.

Ali jumped up excitedly when the rock reflected the light of the torches. It was a shimmery golden-colour. The men jumped for joy. The entire cavern was covered with a god-like metal, auburn hues coloured the entire cave. In some areas, there was the distinct red of iron oxide, the dark maroon of potash, the black of dolomite, but on the whole this was gold.

Finally, Ali had found the Golden Sun.

[The_Oan_Isles]

Golden Sun, Southern Borea
1704

Ali was excited to have found the Golden Sun, to finally see and touch that thing for which he had searched and toiled and connived to have. He finally had that thing for which he had strove, exhausting his physical strength and financial resources to acquire. This magnificent and beautiful cave, that sparkled gold as the light of the torches illuminated the chamber, was the culmination of his journey, providing a fitting end to his sojourning in Borea.

He touched one of the golden pillars, laying his hands upon it to absorb and validate the fact that it was really there, really existing not on maps or in accounts spoken of or written by people, but was actually there. He lay his hands on the cold metallic pillar.

Then something astounding happened. His lower jaw slackened and his eyes widened, his mind and heart sent signals so quickly and in so much confusion that he stood almost paralysed, unable to move or breath or make sense of what he was seeing. As his mind and his heart and his senses finally gathered themselves, a coherent message was conveyed and he finally understood what he saw.

The gold on the pillar that he had touched before, that had filled him with awe and wonder and taken his breath away and make him breathe a sigh of relief and thank Allahu that his journey was over, that everything would be alright, TURNED BLACK.

Right before his eyes, what was once gold and shines and glittered and was pleasing to the eyes to behold and consummated his journey, all the gold that he finally thought he would have, turned black. He grabbed more of it, and everywhere that he touched turned black.

Taken aback, totally shocked and disgusted and amazed and angry and filling up with conflicting but equally sour and bitter emotions, he staggered. He felt a weight upon him, the likes of which he had hitherto never felt, a strange heaviness came upon him that he had not known before nor could ever understand fully.

All that he had worked and planned for and had raised up armies and commissioned ships and travelled for fourteen years for, had sudeenturned to black, to darkness, to the color of void, the color of nothing, of the lack of possibility of anything. The very thing that he had fixated himself upon disappeared by his touch. The Golden Sun had now been eclipsed, extinguished like a candle being blown out by a cold menacing wind.

It was apparent then, clear as day, that all that glitters, is not gold.

[The_Oan_Isles]

Komodu, Hama
November 1704

The King of Hama, a wise and benevolent Ruler who was kind to those who obeyed and served him with loyalty and maleficent to those who disobeyed him, issued a decree from the lofty heights of his palace that would expedite the colonisation of Borea.

While the people were concerned with decrees insofar as they affected their personal lives, such as the codes for personal conduct and what had suddenly become criminalised and what had suddenly become legal, as far as how much the price of basic commodities would change and that sort of thing, there was a great deal of public interest in an order that His Majesty issued on November 1704.

The order stated that Borea was open to people to begin colonising, to cut up tracts of land for themselves, to settle and build homes and start families while simultaneously displacing and enslaving the natives. He loftily portrayed the role of the Hamanite to civilise the world and the savages and pagans who inhabited it, as a great and noble cause that ought to be taken up with vigour.

The young men, who were awkwardly but excitedly untangling the apron strings by which their mothers had controlled and contained their youthful spirit for adventure and independence, took up the task and began preparing to settle this new land.

Ibrahimu was a twenty year old who had recently married. He had saved enough money to build her a larger home. While domesticity had its allure, the adventure and the potential wealth that could be gained from being one of the first to explore this new land proved more alluring.

He ordered his demure little wife, Yasminu, to pack up their essential belongings like clothes, a Book of Faith, perhaps some crockery and cutlery, and sell the rest, including their house and other worldly possessions, so that they could make the trip to Borea. She was disturbed by this peculiar and terrifying request, this order to simply uproot that which she had become accustomed to and all the stability and certainty that familiarity and routine and property conferred.

But Ibrahimu was her husband and a woman’s place – as was the norm in those days – was beside her husband, following his instruction, cooking his food, doing his laundry, supporting and encouraging his ridiculous and sometimes infuriating endeavours, which often landed them in debt or trouble.

Debt – that evil wicked system of bondage – had been problematic for some time especially as the knocks on the door grew louder and more frequent and the threats of violent punishment for failure to pay up grew more grotesque and more likely.

Finally she consented to this absurb idea. They got on a boat and set sail for the port of Ahamadibadu. This was a small town, largely built from wood that was located on the Coast of Borea and would be the starting point of their trek into Borea. They endured the journey on the dhow, that was filled with rain and wind and tossing waves and lightning and thunder and prayers of “God have mercy” and complaints of “Are we there yet?”. Eventually they got to Ahamadibadu and got out with nothing but the clothes they had brought and the gold that they had acquired from selling everything.

They went to the local inn and got a room. This brief respite of civility would soon be abandoned the next day or so, but was a welcome relief. They went to the market and bought these great hairy dark brown camel’s called Bactrians (or Bakataru in the Hamanese language), and they bought several slaves.

RETCONNED

Luckily for the slaves they could keep their genitalia since Hamanian law forbade mutilation of slaves. The people in the market awkwardly resumed their business. The women gave smiles of solidarity, giving Yasminu a nod of approval as she passed by. They bought everything that they needed, such as a wagon, food, traps to catch food, tools to gather and plant food with, pots to cook food in and plates to eat food with and crates to store food in and blankets and jackets for the cold months, and a hatchet and a saw and all other things that were needed. They also bought animals such as cattle and goats that were all here’s together but marked clearly as to who their owners were.

They would depart in a group with other settlers, that was called a caravan to a new place in the West that had been earmarked for new settlers to settle in. Other settlers excitedly prepared their wagons, combed their Bactrians, knitted and sowed and buckled and loaded up and inspected and hurumphed and fixed something else and made sure that they were ready for this new life that the King, whom they foolishly thought was inerrant, had promised them.

Pity that they would encounter another group of people who were also exploring and colonising. Would they get along and live together in harmony? Not on this Urth.

[The_Oan_Isles]

On the path to the Gladden Glades, Western Borea
December 1704

“If you want to get somewhere get moving”, Ibrahimu said, “I hope we get there soon”.

The road ahead was not a road insomuch as it was a route, a difficult one to navigate, that was filled with twists, turns and humps and bumps. The pace was not so much a trudge but a slow wading through rivers and carrying things and wishing they were back in Hama enjoying all the comforts that came with being civilised.

There were creatures, more like beasts with sharp fangs, smelly breath and dirty coats, that jumped, leapt and sniffed around. At most they took a sheep here or there, but the wool, meat and milk that was lost to these terrible things still instilled the colonisers with the bitter desire to hack them to pieces and wear them as a coat.

There were also cannibals who tried to eat Yasminu’s foot when she was sleeping. Luckily her ear piercing, glass shattering scream woke everyone up. In the confusion, running around, calling out and looking here, there and everywhere, the tricky perpetrators were found.

They were uncouth and dirty, as is to be expected from “people” who supplement their diet with human thigh pie, and human head bread and human liver sliver. So the settlers, angry and disgusted that such people could exist, promptly buried them alive with their heads sticking out. It seemed like a satisfactory punishment at the time.

So far the forests and hills and canyons of Borea provided no place to call home. Luckily they weren’t here for any of those places. They were headed for a place that had been known to them but lost many years ago, called the Gladden Glades. As the trail drew on, the days grew darker and colder, the plucky settlers held on to the prospect of the Gladden Glades.

Then they encountered something or rather someone that they didn’t think that they would. They had camped at a clearing in the forests, a nice open space in the heavy wall of trees that was kilometres thick. As the days were dark and cold and the wolves grew hungrier and hungrier and the path grew more treacherous, moving ahead as quickly as they had before was a struggle and inevitably they had to slow down.

Ibrahimu and some of his newly acquired friends decided to check out the local scenery, to take in new sights and explore the natural beauty that was here. They walked, laughed and joked and sang, “Allahu, Allahu a minu, nini ya shu tanda minu? Mini nandi muhi lungi zaharu? Nini ya shu tanda minu? Allah, my Allah, when will she love me? My sweet beautiful lovely blossom? When will she love me?”

Ibrahimu’s friends replied in song, “Shu ya tanda wenu nini wenu aka shu du! Shu ya tanda wenu nini wenu doga kipu! Shu ya tanda wenu nini wenu koka lobolu! Shu tanda wenu nini wenu geza! She will love you when you build her a house! She will love you when you wear a clean shirt! She will love you when you pay her bridal price! She will love you when you learn to bath!”

The friends laughed together as they temporarily forgot their worries and fears and blisters and snotty noses. They were coming up a small hilly part of the forest, unable to see the way ahead. Then they saw a sight that nearly made them fall back. They hemmed and haaaaahed and ooooed and whaaaa?ed trying to understand what they were seeing.

Giants. Great big humanoids with thumbs the length of hands, feet as long as a thigh and heads as large as a torso. They were big, bigger than any men that they thought could ever be. They were sleeping soundly on the ground, mostly naked except for a little patch of skin covering their groin. They all seemed to be male, by way of flat chests and rough, hairy faces and bald heads. They were quite, likes babes on soft wool.

Ibrahimu and his friends ran as fast as their legs could carry them, back to the camp!

“The”, said one, “Waaa…” said another, “Heeee…” spoke another until no one could tell what they were trying to say. Yasminu came out, equally amazed. She tried to grasp a bit of the message here, but that wasn’t it, got a bit there, but no, that wasn’t it either. Eventually she got so miffed that she held, “One at a time! What are you talking about?”

The people nearly fell from their chairs when they heard what Ibrahimu said. It was so preposterous that one of the older men said he wanted to check it out for himself. Indeed it was true. But unfortunately this time, the giants were not asleep.

[The_Oan_Isles]

Meeting the giants, Western Borea
December 1704

Ibrahimu and the men with whom he had come to validate their claims, which at the time seemed preposterous and the result of a lack of rest and good sense, saw that which instilled fear in their hearts. They looked at the giants who were awake, no longer asleep, who in turn looked at them.

While the Hamanites were obviously afraid, their brows sweating, their chests rising and falling with deep and fast gulps of air and rapid poundings of the heart against the sternum and intercostal muscles, the giants were curious.

Ibrahimu lifted his hand. So did the giants. Ibrahimu touched his head and so did the giants. The giants were amused. They laughed as they copied this strange small creature that looked like them but was much smaller and much darker and much stranger.

They clapped. One of the giants spoke to the rest, seemingly suggesting something to which the others gladly agreed as they nodded their heads. They grabbed Ibrahimu and his friends and picked them up and walked away with them. The men screamed, “Sizatinu! Sizatinu! Help us! Help us!”, while the giants carried them off to who-knows-where.

[hr]
Back at the camp, Western Borea
December 1704

Later that evening, with the sun having set and the stars and the moon having come out and the birds having gone to sleep, the people of the camp were afraid. There was no sign of Ibrahimu and the others anywhere. A group of men were went out into the forest to search for Ibrahimu and the others.

One of these was Hashemu. Hashemu followed the footprints of the men and was able to trace the path they walked up a low hill. Then the footprints suddenly vanished, but they were replaced with much bigger ones. These footprints were human in shape, but not human in size. He followed them, not knowing where they would lead him…

[Jacknotch]

(Joint post between Rico and Jon)

The Captain looked at the numbers, “Well these Chaps have very little knowledge about the North” he paused and laughed. “Good thing I’m not a Kuthern or Spandard, I probably would have just blown them up by Know”. The men look at the other ship and tosses a rope, “You will tie this and let us bring you into dock, resist and we’ll you know the rest” the Captain said while smiling.
Admiral Curow Pipua whispers to his first officer, “Do you have any idea what he’s saying?” The first officer whsipers back, “I don’t think he realizes our languages are two completely different things,” he replied. Noticing the rope being thrown onto his ship, he started getting suspicious of their intentions. Pulling out a translation book of words collected from natives along the journey, he spoke in poor Kuthern. “I am Pipua, commander of fleet. Who are you?” The Xagrurgian elite marine steps closer to Admiral Pipua in case the captain tries to do something.

The Captain looks at the other sailors and laugh, “Your Kalatian is weak, You come to harbor and tell us who you are, or we’ll kill you” he says in a simple and plain voice.

“I see you haven’t learned diplomatic tact at the academy, very well then,” the admiral says. “Tie the rope but maintain yellow alert,” he ordered the crew. The flagbearers hoisted flags onto the flagship’s masts to communicate the orders to the rest of the fleet. “Now then, do you speak Codexian or Staynish?”

“Codexian Yes!, we speak Oan as well. Who are you, what’s on your ships ?” The Captain replies. The other two ships closely sail alongside the other xagurgian ships.

“How do you know Codexian and Oan? Our naval maps don’t have records of visitors coming from this part of the world to Aurora and Acturia and they’re the latest charts available. My name and rank is Fleet Admiral Curow Pipua of the 1st Xagrurgian Fleet.”

“1532-1541, we successfully went around the Urth. Collected data and open trade routes across Yasteria, have you never heard of us? We are good allies with the Oans, lovely people I must say. “ he looks around at his crew and whispers to them. “ These guys look funny, lets keep a eye on them. We need to go ahead and bring him to the High Chief once in port.” He turns around and waves at the men.

“Strange, Xagrurg also completed a circumnavigation of Urth in 1541 as well, don’t know how we managed to not pick up data on your continents in the meantime. We’re on good terms with the Morstablysian Empire. We don’t know how you didn’t notice Xagrurg in Aurora as we’re quite prominent traders in Aurora and Southern Acturia. Also, don’t think that I didn’t pick up on your whisper. Don’t even think about trying to seize these ships and crews. We’ve fought valiantly in many conflicts against the Ethalrians and so, we’re battle-hardened. These crack marines on this flagship has muskets that can fire 30 rounds per minute. I look forward to establishing a peaceful relationship with your kingdom however,” emphasizing the word peaceful. “This was not a threat by the way, only a declaration that we can and will fight back if you attempt to seize my men.”

“Jibber Jabber, for now you are in the Great Kingdom Of Kalatianburg & Whovania. Ruler of the Concord, from Borea to Concord and even Gondwana. You can not out run us or defeat, I wish to bring your Admiral or whoever leads your little fleet to the Chief Of Port St.Andrews. Welcome to Nacato boys!” He smiles as they tug the ships along.

“Alright then,” Curow sighed. “Do you know where the best markets and pubs are? The crews have been itching for a drink for a while now and we could use some more bread, fish, and fruits,” Curow asked.

“Sure thing mate, center of town some of the best Pubs and bakery in Atlantia. Were you boys from? You came off lucky, this fleet is mostly whovanians the Kutherns would have probably just blasted you guys to pieces “ he chuckles while eating some grapes.

“Well, this old workhorse managed to survive 30 or more broadsides in one of our most longest naval battles in our last war with the Ethalrians. Even with its masts blown off and several holes in the hull, it still managed to keep firing its guns and stay afloat. Hell, we even managed to win that battle. Everyone got commended for their service and bravery. So, what’s up with the Kutherns’ aggressiveness? They have a stick up their ass or something?,” chuckling while eating an orange.

“Ahh the Kalatians, There one of a kind very brave men. There our brothers, they just have short tempers. They dislike outsiders because people don’t respect our culture, you Aurorans and Arcturians you bring hate and war, the Staynish a filthy race hope they die” he says before having his men pull the boats gently into harbor. “Off you go! Follow me “

“That’s a respectable reason to be cautious, though there isn’t a need for rampant xenophobia. In my opinion, you should always keep an open mind to other ideas and people. In my hold, there’s treatises and documents documenting my nation’s government and way of life if your scholars and leaders want to read them,” Curow said while following the captain.

“You can show it to the Town Leader, who will then either Grant you access to Visit Her Majesty, or send you on your way. But if we find out you have anything to do with issues going on in Borea, we will destroy any future Xagurgian shops that touches the Concordian ocean. “ the Captain leads the men to town center, the citizens look at the men amused by the new faces.

“We don’t have settlements or military personnel deployed in Borea as far I’m aware of,” said Curow. Noting the looks they’re getting from the locals, he asked the captain, “So, I believe we haven’t been properly introduced, what is your name?”

“Captain Tomas de Salinas, leader of the Royal 12th Nacatan/Whovania fleets. I run these waters alongside the Nacatos, lucky for you we found you before the Pollok pirates. Very viscous men, well known around Concord oceans,there allies though so. Most of the men you see are actually from up north in Whovania province. How about you guys what’s your background” as they walk towards the town center they are stop by some natives who give them men a welcoming basket of Tuna and bread.

“I served in the Fleet Admirality for quite a for while now, coming up to 20 years I believe. I have several commendations and medals bestowed to me by the President for my sterling service and valor in naval combat. My men onboard the ships are also veterans of the Ethalrian wars, fighting in whatever hell they were deployed; desert, forest, jungle, you name it; so they can definitely hold their own when they see action.” Curow thanks the natives for the basket and then turns to Tomas and tells him, “I think I have a finely aged bottle of scotch somewhere on board the flagship. I think this warrants the time for it be used,” chuckling.

“Ahhh were here” the Captain replies as they enter a large dome shaped structure, with many different paintings and a large mural on the ceiling. “Who is this you bring upon my lands Captain? “ the Leader looks at the men “Who are you, why do you come ? “

“Good afternoon sir,” giving the man a military salute. “My name is Fleet Admiral Curow Pipua of the Republic of Xagrurg. My fleet was dispatched here to explore the northern continents and establish peaceful relations with native regional powers.”

“You Staynish folks arnt yah?” The Leader replies in a calm but angry voice.

“No sir, I am not Staynish. I stated I was from the Republic of Xagrurg, which is on Aurora. If I may, why do you ask?”

“Well admiral we kill staynes, and if I were to find out you were Staynish or working for the Staynes then death will soon follow, now give me a reason why I should allow you to see Her Majesty the Great ?” He replied.

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily have to see your lord to establish cordial relations, you could redirect me to the Foreign Office if you believe that would be best,” Curow suggested.

“A Foreign Office, yea nope you have to see Her Majesty . She determine whether or not you get to live, don’t you know how a Absolute Monarchy” he replied.

“I figured you folk were a constitutional monarchy of some sort. Well, I wish to establish a trading post in one of your coastal cities. If that goes all well, me and my fleet will be on our way to Borea to see what this ruckus about these “people” invading your colonies is all about.”

After several days of negotiations back and forth between Curow Pipua and the Kalatian Queen, they finally compromise on the establishment of a Xagrurgian trading post in Luthernburg and the exchanging of land and naval charts. Afterwards, the Xagrurgian fleet resupplies at their port and then sets sail for Borea.
[hr]
1 week later
The fleet finally arrives to Southern Borea and lands on its coast. The marines and civilians begin setting up a settlement and fortifications to help secure their logistical situation. Curow sends out a scouting party of 20 marines to chart the unknown area around their settlement and to make contact with the natives.

[Asendavia]

November 1704

Luborad Jakubek, a 29 year old vulpine and the Senior Triarch of Aseveth, was in his office trying to figure out the solutions to various problems in Aseveth that the previous Senior Triarch had left alone when someone knocked on his door. “Come in,” he called out.

Grodzisław Klimek, a 34 year old vulpine and one of the two Junior Triarchs, entered the room.

“Ah, Klimek. What is it?” Luborad asked, drumming his fingers against his desk.

“I hope that you are aware of our eastern neighbor’s expeditions into Borea?” he asked.

“Yes, vaguely,” Luborad responded. “What about it?”

“Well,” Grodzisław began. “I have heard reports that Hama has officially opened colonization of Borea to its citizens.”

Luborad frowned. “What am I supposed to do about this? While this is worrying, we do not have the strength to do anything about it.”

Grodzisław smirked. “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting anything like that. I’m just suggesting that we… oh, I’m not sure, fund efforts to explore Borea and potentially colonize it?”

Luborad chuckled. “I like the way that you’re thinking. How much would this cost though?”

Grodzisław scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t have any exact figures, but it would cost a lot.”

Luborad looked at Grodzisław blankly for a few seconds while he drummed his fingers against his desk. Finally, he spoke up. “I… I suppose that it would be worth it. Yes, you have my full support. Have you brought this up with Cyprian?”

Cyprian Kosiorek, a 38 year old vulpine, was the other Junior Triarch of Aseveth. Grodzisław smirked again. “No, but I don’t need to since you’ve agreed to it. Besides, even if he does disagree with it, there’s nothing he would be able to do. Two people always beats one.”

Luborad nodded. “True, very true. I suppose that we should start making the arrangements then.”

Grodzisław also nodded. “Aye. Within the week?”

“This week or the next is fine, but I want this expedition to start before the beginning of December,” Luborad finished.

“I’ll try to make the arrangements as soon as I can then,” Grodzisław nodded towards Luborad and left the office.
[hr]
Two weeks later

Bogdan Ciolek, a Vulpine merchant and somewhat experienced explorer, stood at the Strakolová docks, overseeing the cargo that was being brought onto his ship. Two weeks ago he had been contacted by a messenger sent by Junior Triarch Grodzisław. The messenger told him that the Junior Triarch wanted to fund an expedition into Borea and that he had been the Junior Triarch’s first choice. Bogdan was flattered. He knew that many people considered him to be one of Aseveth’s best captains, but he didn’t think that any of the Triarchs would ever think of him like that.

There was another reason why he accepted, however. He simply couldn’t refuse. The power of the Triarchs in Aseveth was immense, and refusing a demand disguised as an offer by them usually led to death. So while he was flattered, he was also quite nervous. He had hid his nervousness well then though, and he graciously accepted the offer to lead the expedition.

He was snapped out of his thoughts however, and back into reality as he heard his first mate, Melchior Wanat, yelling at one of the sailors who had accidentally dropped a crate. Bogdan glanced at Melchior. His first mate was quite young, only 23, about 13 years younger than Bogdan, and he had reddish fur in comparison to Bogdan’s own grey fur. He laid his hand on Melchior’s shoulder, which shut him up rather quickly.

“You don’t need to be so harsh on him, lad. People make mistakes. However, I do think that we should speed this up,” Bogdan said.

Melchior nodded, albeit somewhat unhappily. After that, hours passed without a hitch. Finally, the last crate was loaded onto the ship just as the bottom of the sun dipped below the horizon. Bogdan nodded in approval. “Just in time,” he glanced at Melchior and said “Get everyone that’s not on the ship aboard, I need to go rest,” Bogdan left without waiting for a response from Melchior. Melchior scowled for a few moments before getting to the task of herding everyone onto the ship. Luckily it didn’t take too long, and by the time the ship was ready to depart from port, half of the sun was below the horizon. Finally, after weeks of preparation the ship, a long with four others, left for Borea.

[The_Oan_Isles]

At the Giant’s Cave, Western Borea
December 1704

Am I breathing? Is my heart even beating? Coming back to sobriety? Is this even reality…? Or am I sinking deeper and deeper into myself until I disappear forever?
…
…

                  ...


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                                              [right]find me...

[/right]

Ibrahimu and his friends had been so shocked by the experience of being carried and handled by these giants who were, as their name implies, large creatures, at least significantly larger than the Hamanites themselves. Shock can overcome even the most sober and sharp mind as it delves into the realms of understanding and consciousness that are beyond the realm of the mind to fathom as such it is so overcome by that which it desires to grasp, but cannot grasp that it recedes, until it vanishes (but is not truly extinguished) into itself.

So the coming to this place from which it fled is a slowly and difficult process. The mind slowly reenters the body that it had, prior to that moment, inhabited since conception of the cell. It tries to understand how to use the nerves that control and manipulate the muscles and all other parts of the body that were kept alive by the dutiful heart while the head was vacant.

Ibrahimu, having gained a sense of what was happening, with thoughts of the moment when they were captured coming back, spoke, “Ninu funa nu ngi tinu? What do you want with us?”

The giants, large and stupid human-like creatures the likes of which the Hamanites had never seen, opened their massive eyes an even larger O. They looked at this little man as he spoke, amazed by him.

They seemed to excitedly speak among themselves seemingly in some convocation contemplating what they should do with the human who had spoke and those who were currently unconscious. One of the giants held his human in his hands and shook him, but he didn’t move. To Ibrahimu’s horror, the giant shook him angrily trying to get him to return to consciousness. The giant became frustrated and threw a tantrum like a child. The other giants tried to get him to calm down, extending their hands to contain him and speaking affectionately to get him to relax, but he would not have it. He continued jumping and stomping and waving his arms… until he smashed the human against the cave wall.

The giant immediately stopped, shocked by what he had done. He tried to pick up the human and see if it was okay, but it was clear from the limp arms and legs that the human had been smashed. Blood gently trickly out his head. The giants were very upset with him.

Hashemu had seen enough.

[The_Oan_Isles]

At the Camp, Western Borea
December 1704

Yasminu sat silently, not saying a word, not adding a comment, not gasping or sighing, or giving her opinion, as Hashemu recounted what he had seen. The other people in the camp expressed their shock and bewilderment and disgust, putting their hands on their heads or hips or over their hands. Yet, Yasminu remained silent.

When Hashemu was done, she said, “Thank you Hashemu. I want you to find my husband. These giants will not get away with what they have done”.

While her statement reflected the way in which everyone in the camp had felt and was not a particularly impressive and erudite thing to say, it was said with so much conviction, authority and weight that Hashemu asked her, “What would you like us to do?”

By this simple engagement, this simple exchange of words, a whole hierarchy of power had been established. Yasminu was now the leader of the camp, and those who had been assigned by the state the caravan through the forests to the Gladden Glades became the officials who carried out her instructions. Hashemu was now at the head of their offensive and defensive power. The people coalesced behind the pair, giving them the authority over their caravan.

A clear plan of action was set down. Firstly they were to rescue Ibrahimu and the others. Hashemu picked a group of thirty men. They rode on horses through the forest and camped in the forest some distance from the giants’ cave in the foliage, camouflaged so that they would not be sensed.

Some of them came down from the mountain above the entrance of the cave, holding on to cables that were anchored on rocks a little higher up. They dropped silently and gently above the mouth of the entrance of the cave.

The men rode on their horses creating a distraction to draw the giants out of the caves. The giants were confused and amazed by what was happening. They saw these small people making noise and waving swords and torches in the air, threatening them with violence. One of the challenges of their immense girth was that they were slow and clumsy, so the Hamanites could out run them and dodge them. The giants chase the Hamanites until they reached a small dell. The giants thought that they had trapped the Hamanites, having them back up against the steep wall of the dell.

Cables dropped down from the top of the wall. The men grabbed on and were pulled up. The giants were amazed and did not respond until the Hamanites were too high to be grabbed at that even as they jumped up and tried to grab them, they were unable to reach them. The Hamanites sent arrows flying through the air straight for the giants.

The arrows struck the flanks, chests and arms and legs of the giants. They cried and screamed in pain as these small but stinging weapons pierced their skin. As the giants writhed in their pain.

The men who had been hanging precariously above the mouth of the cave had lowered themselves into the threshold of the opening. They quietly sauntered in, ensuring that there was no other giant inside who would be a threat to them. The cave was quiet and no sign of the giants could be detected. They entered the cave and found Ibrahimu and the others lying down in a hole in the cave. Although it was dim, there was enough light to see the men as they sat dazed in the hole.

Their rescuers dropped cables down and tried to pull them up. Although their hands where chapped from the jute rope that they had climbed by, they managed to pull everyone out. They took out the body of their deceased brother. They carried him out into a place in the clearing in front of the cave. They covered him in cloth and supported the body on long straight sticks and carried him in the direction of the village.

The loud stomping and yelling of the giants could be heard as they came back to the cave. They took out the arrows that had pierced them. They looked awful. They also looked like children. This was not in the sense of their appearance, but their disposition. They were unintelligent and seemed unable to understand how or why they were hurt. They were even more anguished when they discovered that their captives had been rescued. There was a commotion as they searched for the missing “darkies” (as the native light skinned humans had pejoratively called them).

They crept away, back to the camp. It was clear that the giants could not be left as is.

[The_Oan_Isles]

At the Camp

Yasminu had transformed into someone that Ibrahimu could not recognize. She had a new strength and sense of purpose that made her a leader. he had never thought that Yasminu could be a leader. Neither did she. In fact no one could have predicted the transformation that manifested in her and in Hashemu. They both broke the social constructs into and by which their lives had been perceived to exist. These constructs had limited and subdued their potential, but now it was revealed. Given the right situation, many characteristics can be revealed about a person which would not have otherwise materialized. Whether or not what was revealed was good or bad would be hard to predict, but Ibrahimu had made up his mind: a strong wife is no wife.

Yasminu was supposed to get fat and bear babes and take care of the work of running the home while he went out and did “man” things. He was supposed to fight in the battles and do the hunting and give the marching orders in his own house. But now that power and moreover that sense of certainty had been overtaken. By rescuing him, she had essentially assumed ownership of his life. She no longer cooked for him, or washed his clothes, or brought him water. She was too busy and too important to be dictated to. If anything, she was the one giving the dictation.

Ibrahimu was grateful that he had been rescued. Being captured by those giants had been a traumatic experience. He did not want to go through it and would not wish it on anyone else. But coming back to this new Yasminu and her sidekick, Hashemu, did not put him at ease. He had framed his life and his perception of his own manhood, largely on his status above women (as the patriarchal society of medieval Hama prescribed). Now that that construct had been turned on its head, he felt inept. And he wanted it back.

These sorts of life-altering experiences changed the way people thought and behaved. It altered them radically. Ibrahimu was never a distinctively interesting character. He was simple, barely able to read anything other than the Book of Faith, and ambitious, but did not have many horizons to strive towards. Ibrahimu tried to sabotage her. He wanted to make sure that she would come back and be the fat pregnant woman of his dreams.

He sneaked into the tent in which the major leaders of the caravan and Yasminu had been having discussions and had stored all of the records of their deliberations and the plans that arose therefrom. Piles of books, rolls of scrolls and other documents were stacked there. He would end this madness. He took some flint and struck a piece of iron until a spark formed. A small flame lifted its crown and then spread until the tent was ablaze.

People came running. The tried to throw sand and water on the tent to abet the flames. Unfortunately the materials from which the documents were made, were flammable. They burnt and burnt. Yasminu and her men came to fight the flames along with the rest of the men and women who had come. Ibrahimu watched from the distance as Yasminu coordinated the effort to end the fire. Everyone worked together and men and women equally contributed to ending the fire, even though they did not save a thing. Yasminu had kept a clear head and rolled up her sleeves and pulled back her headscarf. When it was gone she did not get angry or dismayed. She simply shrugged her shoulders and thanked everyone for helping.

Ibrahimu just watched and exhaled.

[The_Oan_Isles]

On the way to the Northwestern Giants, Northwest Borea

The giants were healing from the battle from those past few days. They angry. They were angry that they had lost. They were even more angry that they had lost to such small creatures. They were angry that they were afraid of them. While the Hamanites were less than half of the Giants’ size, they were smart, organised and we’ll equipped. These harnessed these characteristics to bring down creatures much bigger and face opponents much stronger than themselves.

The Hamanites were also more numerous than the giants. The giants were afraid that the caravan that they had encountered was the first of many. Soon their land would be taken over by these small dark-skinned humans. Because the humans were more powerful than they were, their domination of the land and control of its resources would lie firmly in their small hands. The giants’ of western Borea decided to head north to the giants of the northwest and tell them about what had happened.

They walked through the forest, resting intermittently under a tree or in a cave or in a dell or under a cliff for some shelter against the rain, wind and hail. There was little relief and they seemed to be drawing no nearer to the great northwestern giants. Yet, they did arrive. The giants that they encountered were startled by their scarred and emaciated appearance. They welcomed them in.

They went to the chief of the northwest giants and told him about these new dark skinned humans. The chief, was one of the oldest giants. He reached an age of nearly two centuries. He stroked his long, course and white beard, contemplating that which he had been told.

Chief Rahudin, as he had been known, said, “The humans are small, but they are intelligent. Many years ago, we were faced with the small humans with fair skin. We were winning, but we could not survive the winter, so we fled north. In this days there was a drought. But it was still cold and there was nothing to eat. The humans were number and needed much less food than we did,
so they managed to wait out the winter and wait for the summer. We were forced to flee more inland where there were animals to eat. We had an agreement with the humans that the north would belong to the giants and the south to man. These new humans are different from the ones we knew. I have heard of the beasts they ride on and the weapons that they carry. They are much greater than the humans that inhabit Borea. We will not win in a war against them. We must band together and defend the land that we have”.

The other giants asked, “Can we not drive them out?”, or “What shall become of us, great chief?” and other questions of that sort.

The chief answered, “We are great in size, but we are few. A mother bears only one child in her life and that child may not even survive to old age. We are few, too few to drive out these dark humans, who are many. I shall speak to the chiefs of the east, the far north and other places, on what we must do. Fear not, Borea is with us”.

[hr]
The Gladden Glades, Western Borea

The caravan travelled for many days after their encounter with the giants. This encounter had been an experienced that shaped their character, but had delayed them significantly. The weather was getting cooler. Dark clouds hovered in the distance, getting closer each day, threatening them with cold rain and hail. They had to push themselves to arrive at the shelter of the Gladden Glades as soon as possible.

They ate less and worked even harder and walked even longer and slept even less. They were still afraid of the potential giants who may be before or behind them. The wind was their greatest opponent. It was cold and strong. Walking through it was difficult and required a great deal of strain and effort. They were also wary of a traitor among them. They did not know who it could be, but they had no choice but to move on. People were looked at with great suspicion. Heavier penalties were enforced against transgressions of the law. Even a small act such as stealing an apple could get one lashed severely.

Ibrahimu remained by Yasminu’s side, feeling both safe and endangered by her presence. As her husband, he was treated with some respect. At the same time he felt guilty for what he had done and the cowardice he had shown over this time. He snapped at people and tried to read their expressions for signs of suspicion. He once slapped a slave for looking at him for too long. Even Yasminu was shocked and was concerned that being in Borea and her new leadership role and status was affecting him.

He grew distance and refused to touch her. They often argued. It would end with her keeping quiet and him walking away. Balancing these roles was a new thing for both of them and broader Hamanian society. No formula existed. Only work and toil existed. So that was what they must set themselves to.

Then they arrived at the raging Salahu River. They named it after the Hamanese word for “prayers” called salahu because that day, they prayed at the banks of that river together.

[hr]
First Encounter with the Xagrurgian expedition on the southwest coast

Mariners wandered the Borean sea, fishing and trading. These cosairs were scary and efficient. They were hardened by months at sea, transporting spices, slaves and salt around, to and from the many lands of north Yasteria Major and outlying landmasses. They saw a ship that they did not often see, moored in a deep bay on the south west of the Borean continent.

The people were light and the ship was strangely curved with multiple masts and sails hanging from them. They were strange, but sturdy-looking ships. What was even stranger, was the fair skin of the people who were working on it and living on the area around it. One of the sailors called out to the Captain, Fayisalu, to see.

The Captain lifted his telescope and looked at the ship and the small camp on the land. These light skinned people were not like the barbarians that were native to Borea. They were more-or-less civilised. They seemed organised and dressed, albeit very strangely. The Captain directed the pilot to steer the ship on course with these new settlers to meet them and see what they wanted. His massive dhow, the Princess Rania turned her massive prow in their direction, floating some kilometres from the beach - because it was so big. Captain Fayisalu got on a dingy and set for these odd people. The Captain was always looking for a chance to trade and discover, risking his life for adventure.

[Jacknotch]

Borea, Southwest Coast
The Xagrurgian camp is busy as always; tilling the land to set up farms, constructing log walls to defend the village, and maintaining the ships in case pirates attack from the sea.
One day, while on watch on the crow’s nest of the lead Xagrurgian vessel docked at the makeshift marina they hastily set up, a marine noticed several large ships approaching them on the horizon, bearing unknown flags. He quickly runs to the camp’s bell and rings it several times, alerting the camp’s garrison and the admiral, who rushes out of his tent to see what is the commotion.
“Sir! We got unknown ships approaching us from the sea! They’re sending out a dingy to meet us!,” said the marine.
“Hmmm,” wondered the admiral. “Keep the camp’s garrison on guard, but prepare a gift for these new people and prepare our town hall, or what’s supposed to be it.”
The men gather a gift in no time, preparing a chest of fine gemstones worthy of royalty and the town hall (which is actually a big log house with a wooden floor and a large table which is also used as small dining hall) is cleaned up with food at the table and the flag of Xagrurg and its coast of arms hangs proudly over the entrance.
The admiral changes into his ceremonial dress uniform, which is a bright rose-red color and his black leather boots and holsters his shining and sharp katana at his side. He then waits at the end of the marina with an escort of two of his best marines, awaiting for the new arrivals.
[hr]
After several weeks of trekking, the scouting party dispatched to scout the area finally return with information about the area: it is rich in fertile land and minerals; though Borea is hotly contested by its neighboring nations for colonization; and there are a couple of native tribes near them, some of their people, particuarly their young adults, even came with them to check out their camp.

[The_Oan_Isles]

On the beach meeting the Xagrurgians, Southwest Borea

Captain Fayisalu was a proud mariner and adventurer. For a long time he had grown up by the sea. He had depended on its fish for food and income, on its currents for transport and on its beauty for peace. He had become very familiar with the tricky changes in the wind, the rocks that were hidden beneath the still water. While these Xagrurgians, whom he did not know were called Xagrurgians, were strange, he was able to assess from their industrious and dignified lifestyle that they were amenable to reason.

He had boldly rode on the dingy along with some of his men to the coast to meet with them and see what he could learn. He found it unlikely that they would understand each other or have common cultures and values and norms. In fact, he expected this to turn pretty ugly, as such first encounters often did. But he hoped that what little he could gain, as there often is something to be acquired no matter how a sour a situation tend to get, was enough to be useful in the future.

He arrived on the coast and helped his crew haul the boat onto the beach and tie it on a rock. He waled out of the water and put on his boots. After searching his nasal cavities for a rather mischievous piece of hardened snot tucked away in some clever corner, he flicked it way and put on his boots.

He wore a turban on his head and upward-pointing boots. He had a long cape that blew behind him (but was now a little soggy from the water), a great mustache and very dark skin and sharp-looking eyes. His clothes looked as though they were once bright and expensive, but they appeared dull and worn; the sun and water had faded their bright colors. His gold pendant shined brightly on his chest. It was a medallion with the gold star elephant-emblem on the front. It represented an emissary of the King of Hama. It was the one thing he was most proud of. If he had this pendant, he would never feel ashamed.

“Salaaama!”, Captain Fayisalu yelled out to the Xagrurgians. He lifted both hands, as did his crew, hoping to signal that they came in peace. It would be hard to believe that anyone who had a scimitar, crossbow and cannon could possibly come in peace. But he only had his word to go on (pity they may not understand it).

“Ninu mikisa tinu ku holu a ninu”, he said, (“Take us to your leader”.)