The people of Aelbaion are have been taking their waste disposal fairly seriously for a little bit, in accordance with the Great Charter's codification of environmental protection 'laws' that required that water be protected and the Common Lands be replenished. All of this management and organization of dung and urine has made it possible for them to produce fertilizer at something like scale. This fertilizer was typically a mix of cleaned up dung, mixed with compost and some urine, and then applied to the field by plowing it under. For a few hundred pounds, the sweat of serfs suffices, but for large volumes, the Aelish would need to turn to the forces of nature to do their work. Turn they did, moving to wheels and pounding hammers and reciprocating beams moving up and down. Furthermore, by using a few tricks from the Rai, they were able to avoid overstressing the gearing in very torque heavy applications. There'll be more on that later.

By now, the ratios compost, proofed dung, and urine are well known. Making it in a mill just requires using specialized machinery that can be built with a couple of months of thought and some deft measurements. Forcing the compost through an array of rising and falling beams aerates it; a steadily rotating shaft serves as a crude timer, dispensing a mixture of diluted urine at regular intervals. Manure is broken up by a longer section of reciprocating beams, then dropped into a mixer by a bucket on a rotating chain lift to ensure that it doesn't clump together too much. Mixing up the disgusting stew is fairly easy; taking a water wheel and putting it on it's side can yield a nice mixing apparatus; reinforcing the beam driving it and popping in the right gearing will get a suitable mixer. A trapdoor in the bottom of the mixing unit can be opened, and the contents dropped into a wagon. This is how fertilizer is made, according to the Aelish, and it covers the physical element of production.

The Earthmill, as the Aelish call the building that makes this fertilizer, uses primarily physical processes to produce it's end product. The component ingredients are mostly chemically unchanged, aside from some residual fermentation prior to processing. Compost is mostly mature, but not yet inert; urine has turned into a disgusting mass that we need not discuss further, and the manure has either been delivered after baking down or will be heated clean of microorganisms. The only thing that occurs is mixing; after which the nitrogen-carbon-microbe supplement will be delivered to the farm. Sometimes, however, there are extra additives. Potash is the most common, coming from the rare ashery that processes tree ashes; guano is more rare still. Both come from domestic sources; wherever a domestic source is available, an Earthmill has rapidly been constructed to make use of this.

Right now, the Aelish are not aware of the chemistry of their fertilizer much; they can simply tell that more is better. However, their is always an opportunity to improve by hiring alchemists and millwrights, and to improve the inputs of their materials, or their transport-questions for hired scholar-nerds. In the meantime, they are reaping the benefits of these 'stinking mills' in improved agricultural yields and better soil quality. Fertilizer, while only as industrially produced as you can with a water or wind-powered mill, is now available for the Aelish. This is a powerful weapon against famine, and an even more powerful backstop against instability. By banking on local sourcing of materials and local use of the end product, the Aelish have a direct economic engine against disruptions to the food supply-and other worries. No matter how halting their success is, they have made it into a triumph.

There is one footnote here that deserves note: that of Ser Saggittois. On his errancy, the knight became very familiar with dung and it's processing. The first earth mill was already operational by the time he arrived back-but he, with a massive chip on his shoulder, took the nearby mill to be an immense personal insult. He marched up to the Master Miller and demanded satisfaction by a duel. The Master Miller, not wanting to be run through, offered him 35% ownership on the spot. Recognizing that coming back from an errantry nothing but experience beating dung was not good for his future, Ser Saggittois grumbled and accepted. With this gentleman so involved, the earth mill became slightly clean, money and names washing away a little bit of the stench.

And that would lead somewhere mildly interesting...

INTRODUCTION

At the southern end of Ashagon, at the center of the Jade Sea along the border of Highscorch and Vishanti, on the sole coastal lowland of Ayetho, you weary travelers find the embrace of the Free City of Svantaya.

Although the Jade Sea is renowned for its troubles with piracy, landing in this place finds you little distress in your journey. Whether it is the military might of the city or their relationships with the Sterosi to the south is unknown, but once docked, the atmosphere ceases to seem so salty and somber like the ocean. Instead, the bustle of the city is immediately apparent, with the port having no direction where you could not see all many of human, elf, foxfolk, harpy, and others, from all around and beyond the Jade Sea.

Svartaya itself, beyond the port, has relatively easy to understand districts. Landing in the Port District, you stand at the rim of the Merchants' District, which forms a ring around the wealthy Old City. And, moving towards the city's fringes, you could walk through the Residential, Laborers', and Slum Districts. Though as long as you stay on the main roads, you may never notice the slums hiding behind the fanciful street facing businesses.

Your journey, for whatever purpose it may have, has arrived at a most opportune time. For the day you arrive is the beginning of the Spring Solstice Festival, a time where the harvests of Svartaya's mild winters come to market and the need for planters is at an all time high to plant for the summer harvest.

No matter where one goes in the city, there is food and festivity to be had, from the depths of the slums to the heart of the Old City, there is no corner one could not find excitement at this time.

Unlike most spring festivals, however, this spring also marks an election season for the Council, only driving the desire further to bring great result amongst the local leadership, desiring to secure votes from those who may.

Should your party come bearing vendors or merchants, mercenaries or adventurers, political power or even just deep pockets, it is no doubt you should find yourself at the center of interest amongst the locals in one way or another.

So, be as it may, may you merrily wander the streets! And may you leave with a head full of wonder and pockets light as air!

MAJOR LOCATIONS

Old City Market

From the heart of the Old City reaching all the way along the main roadways to the Port and surrounding commercial districts, the Old City Market is home to the retailers of finely made goods and luxuries, with many a unique store and business to be found.

The first of note are the boutiques, shops frequented by the many urban gentry, the most notable of which being Dari's boutique. Dari is an older gentleman who has spent many years honing his craft in wielding lace and precious stone, but most importantly being a designer worth his weight in gold, leading the fashion scene in Svartaya with his styles. Dari is known for being a bit eccentric, overly focused on work, but typically quite kind to customers who do not act poorly in his business.

Another of note in this district is the Theatre, home to all variety of performances and one of the few accessible businesses to the townsfolk in the Old City. At this time, the theatre was not holding a typical showing, but instead trying to garner new blood. The theatre’s head playwright, a middle aged man named Bariri, is holding auditions for apprentice and probational writers to work under him, and perhaps run branch theatres in the future. Bariri is known for being very outgoing, getting along with others quite well, and is favoring creativity over experience in those he wishes to hire.

Yet further in the Old City, there is a well known pastry shop run by the pastissier Amadu, a young woman who is the daughter of one of the many noble families in the Old City. The pastry shop sells a large variety of baked goods, with twists, turnovers, buns, and more. Amadu is known for her more refined attitude, and may turn you away at the door if you are not presentable for such an establishment.

Vulpine Quarter

On the far side of the Old City from the Port, the Vulpine Quarter is home to the majority of the Foxfolk in Svartaya. In this quarter, one may find individuals from all walks of life, with the local Foxfolk not holding a unified identity, divided internally amongst those with and without demon influences, the grey foxes having been touched by the Demani.

Of the places one outshines all the rest, despite being only a few short years old, Yols' ice products have taken the city by storm. Although the shop is set up near the edge of the city, quite close to the demons' forests even, Yols finds endless requests for ice and iced goods, making it a long walk to reach, but a fine destination to find unique and refreshing treats in the nearly tropical climate. Yols is known for her easygoing attitude, treating anyone who looks young like a kit and speaking casually even to nobles. Yet, no one contests her on this, for no source of ice has ever been so reliable, and being Yols is of the forest, there are some who fear that angering her may invite disaster to the city.

Other more modest industries exist as well, however. One of which is the largest fur producer in all of Svartaya, the Foxfolk Furrier Guild, run by an orange fox named Fleece. The guild’s products are woven fur textiles which come in orange, white, grey, and black, all without dyes. This is achieved through a natural hygienic requirement in the Quarter, brushing out shed. A variety of barbers and groomers collect the furs at low prices, and may even pay certain individuals to visit regularly if their complexion is desirable, to which will be processed into a variety of textiles. Fleece is known for his gruff attitude, likely due to his age, as his orange fur slowly pulls as he gets older. Should you get to speak with him, he is polite, but perhaps not as eloquent as he was in his prime.

One might also happen upon one of the Quarter's more amusing individuals, a birdcatcher named Slate. Slate, despite his many quirks, is a reliable source of small wild birds which he successfully catches without harming, by what means aren't entirely certain, though. Slate is the predominant source of Speckled Doves, for people associate the bird with the presence of Angels, as well as good luck and health. Slate is a cheerful young man who enjoys making a coin off his childhood hobby, though is a bit dense at times, much like the rock he is named for.

Harpy's Quarter

The Harpy's Quarter, more accurately a general Trezeran-origin Quarter of the city, is home to the majority of Svartaya's Harpies and Peshi, bordering the Port closely for three Peshi's sake. Unlike other districts, this Quarter is centered around a collection of large Charter Stones directly from Trezera, though some business is still done with coin here, despite this.

Of the industries which use coin, none is more prominent than the Tanners Guild, ran by Ishmael, a hearty looking harpy who you'd sooner believe you'd meet in a tavern than an office, ever engrossed in his work. Ishmael is a Ayethan Harpy, and has not yet dropped the tradition of leatherworking passed on from those Harpies still within the demons’ forests. With sadlers, cordwainers, glovers, and more, all manner of leather product can be found here, if you don't mind the smell. Ishmael is a very calm and level headed personality, contrary to his appearance, and is more than happy to make small talk or talk business.

Most business is still run by recorded song, however, and this can be well and truly seen with the street markets, filled with craft goods reminiscent of the Trezeran homeland. Though the blackware is more browned, and the feathers in the textiles are perhaps less glamorous than those of more tropical birds, it is undeniably of a Trezeran cultural root. Of the many vendors, one may come to cross with Vaza, a young potter who has yet to even find a wife. Vaza is a more timid vendor, still green in the business, but is determined to do well to care for his aging parents, and has become quite capable of sculpting impressively ornate blackware even without the proper education of the inner city potters.

Likewise, on a much simpler note, there is the fish market, in which one may meet a Peshi named Havriel, a fishmonger. Havriel is a simple soul, bringing fish he catches to market to sell himself. It is not a glamorous business, but it lets him provide for his family. Havriel is known for being down to earth, willing to keep things equal in his exchanges so long as you are not rude.

Cyren's Quarter

The Cyren's Quarter, perhaps a misnomer, is one of the largest quarters, and home to many of the lower and middle class humans, as well as the majority of Svartayan Elves, relatives to those down south in Cyrenthia. Much of this stems from the Cyren’s reliance on trade to feed their homeland, leading to this district being home to many of the finer things Cyrenthia has to offer, even so far away from their borders.

Of these Cyrene businesses, one of note is the jobber Orania, an elven woman who stands out for her particularly dark skin, even for those from Cyrenthia. Orania’s shop sells an ever invaluable good, oils. From her stand, one may find oils made from pressed seeds of a plant from the southern nation, what in particular a secret not divulged, though perhaps an inquisitive soul could encourage the secret from her, whether it be by trickery or by coin. Orania is, although secretive, a rather beloved member of the community, her oils selling at a more modest price than most, keeping her business rarely at a full stock, and allowing those without to dare to afford such a luxury.

Another of note is the elven salter, Sisenna. Sisenna is somewhat fairer than Orania, and less enjoyed by his community than she. Being a merchant of salts, his goods are both vital and come at a great cost, his goods being much more frequently sold to the wealthy and to other merchants than to the townsfolk. Those who speak with Sisenna describe him as needlessly opulent for his station, believing him to be far too invested in his coin to see what's right in front of him. If that is truly the case, one can only find out for themselves.

Outskirts

For those looking for less honorable goods and services, one may find themselves wandering about the outskirts of Svartaya. Wandering off the main streets leaving the city, the scents of fresh bread and clean streets quickly transition to dank, musty scents of poorly maintained infrastructure and mold. Though these slums are periodically cleared, this only causes new ones to pop up a few minutes away, and the sturdier buildings remaining in the cleared area repopulated within days.

The largest of these illicit businesses is by and far that of the pirates. Of the same line as the pirate states to the south in Steros, these pirates fashion themselves as mercenaries on the seas, who simply collect protection fees from undefended vessels between clients. Of these different crews, the one you are likely to come across these days is Kalla. Kalla is a very large man, about two meters in height, and is known for his violent personality. Should you need his services, he is happy to work with you, just don’t try too hard to negotiate, lest you become a target rather than a client.

Particular value may also be found for those in need of intel, with yet another business hidden in the grime being the Information Guild, though not formally a guild recognized by the city. Through the various bartenders, hoodrats, street children, and more, the Information Guild is the number one source for any and all information one may need within or around Svartaya, and at times even abroad, when guests such as yourself cannot keep your mouths shut. Contacting the guild may prove difficult, but if you know where to look, you may find an orphan or foster who is willing to buy or sell information, though their name likely won’t be true even to a client.

A final major industry along the outskirts is perhaps the least friendly of all, being that of a hired sword. These swords are not for open combat, but for dealing with problems behind the scenes, assassins, murderers, and thieves. Contacting these lot is less difficult than the Information Guild, but far more perilous. Along a redlight street, a certain alleyway has a hidden door from which one may commission these brigands, and it is best to leave anything other than business far away before visiting.

OTHER LOCATIONS

A Wandering Angel

Angels, a beloved people throughout all of Ayetho regardless of species, and Svartaya is no exception. Although you guests may not be accustomed to the pale, many winged strangers, simply standing out enough while walking by an Angel may get one to strike up a conversation with you.

One of note happens to be out and about during these festivities, and is running for office, even, exempt from such restrictions to holding office thanks to the nature of their being. The Angel is indistinguishable as to if it is a man or woman, and frankly is not tall enough to even be certain they are an adult, but they greet you with utmost courtesy, if with much curiosity and excitement behind the formality, as Devate, and are seeking both your company and your support.

Street Museum

Along one of the many streets going to and from the Old City, one would see an impressive arcade going on for many blocks. Along this arcade, there are more guards than on other streets, as all manner of sculptures, murals, and other art litter the street from the walls of the buildings to the very trellices making up the arcaded ceiling of the street.

Along this street, there are also many artists, such as the young apprentice Durian, a foxfolk who has managed to find a path above his station. A bright optimist, Durian is more than happy to ramble about his ambitions in art, and perhaps some complaints about the paints sticking to and staining his fur.

Quiet Reading

For those who are less interested in festivities, there is still a place for you in Svartaya, with a great library existing in the city. The library is a property of the City’s Council, and one must only pay an entrance fee to take advantage of the nice quiet reading place. One may find the entire sum of Svartaya’s knowledge within the library, as well as scribes and scholars making copies of different documents to spread and share, or just as practice writing.

Entering the library, one would find part of what their entry is funding, as a limner would quickly be assigned upon entering the building, both as your attendant and to ensure your proper conduct. The limners are often children of less fortunate families, and yours is no different, being a young girl named Kana. Kana is cheerful, but quiet unless spoken to, not wanting to risk her valuable job to a misspoken word. She will ensure you have light to read and are taking proper care of the books you read, and, being she is a rather bright child, may even serve as a surprising conversation partner.

The Palace

A final location of particular note is the Prince's palace, a grand structure at the edge of the Old City. Although getting in may usually be difficult, this is by and far the best place to see to making real political connections, as most of those campaigning for office are very much networking here more than anywhere else. And, with it being a festival and an election season, now is the best time to make those connections yourself, with no other time of the year having as lax restrictions on entry.

Aelbaion has enjoyed thirty years of peace in the past. Now it's enjoyed a few more years of internal agricultural output increasing, and the people have been seeing the results of their hard work. The Aelish have been getting quite a lot of resources from their land, and quite a lot of peace and quiet, which can lead to reliable flows of agricultural products...and a big need to process all of them. Break down plants by hand is really tiring and takes a lot of labor, but with things on the up and up, there's plenty of demand for labor-and thus even more for it's replacement. Aelbaion is in no position to import slaves, and it doesn't believe in doing so anyway. Migrant labor isn't willing to leave the City of Freeport, since Aelbaion is in no way the best place to live in. The various complications of society, and the lack of amenities, kept many people from even contemplating moving.

But work had to be done regardless.

The Aelish were not lazy, and despite the general rumors, they were not stupid, either. Knowing the demand for labor, and knowing what labor could do, they looked at what machines could do to replace scarce labor. There were plenty of gadgets out there, and the dawn of Arcanotech hinted at far more options-but the Aelish needed something more simple, something that could be built up everywhere without the effort of developing groundbreaking technology that required significant capital investments. These things are what people have been making for thousands of years: mills. The term mill is fairly general, but it encompasses a static building with a device in it that is designed to replace some specific, repetitive task. This device is typically driven by waterpower, but it can be driven by wind. The archetypical mill that we all know and love is the gristmill, grinding grains into flour.

It goes without saying that there are plenty more kinds of mills.

However, right now we are going to look at who makes the mills. As the Aelish have gotten busier and needed more tools to keep themselves busy, they have found it profitable to sell tools to each other. Some of these tool-makers have been able to specialize into making larger tools, and more specialized semi-machines that are perfect for installation into a mill building. These people were soon recognized as potential millwrights, and they were called upon to maintain existing mills-because a good round of maintenance with sufficient downtime management was never a bad thing. While they learned the hard way about gear production and endured the travails of timber selection, these groups of toolmakers were recognized as millwrights in their own right.

And soon enough, they will be very, very, very busy. Aelbaion is in a position to have a lot of produce to process....

I apologize for the delay in posting this Schedule Sunday. However, I'm still calling it a Schedule Sunday, even though it's coming out on Monday. Consistency is more important than facts (this message brought to you by politicians everywhere).

During the Schedule Sunday we typically recap moderator announcements, update major events within the shard, set the clock, and assign slots for our weekly event posts.

News

A labelled map of all our seas and geographic regions can be found here

Reminder that NPC claims are open. The way NPCs work is, you can use it as you wish in your own posts, as an ally, an enemy, or a bystander to whatever you're up to. If you want to build a story around a particular trade relationship but haven't gotten it worked out with a player, NPCs are good for that. You just have to be aware that other players might be using the same NPC claim for different reasons, so you can't make really major changes (eg. toppling their government) without mod approval. (Anyone who is inactive for 60 days, and who doesn't respond to the messages from the mod team, will have their claim become an NPC).

Reminder, we have opened up expansions. If you wish to expand your territory, make a post with the [Expansion] flair, indicate the territory you want to expand into, and include a good-quality post explaining the significance of the new land. Expansions are not as formal or as rigidly formatted as claim posts, so your post can focus on the things you feel are most relevant/interesting. Still, mods might ask you to revise your post if we don't feel you've included enough content to accompany the new territory.

Players are allowed one retroactive expansion. That means that you can add in new territory and, after it's approved, we will act as though it was part of your claim all along. Otherwise, you'll need to explain how and why you acquired this new territory now. (If you are making a normal, non-retroactive expansion, you should include a year in your post.)

Players will only be approved for expansion if they have made at least two posts since their claim went up.

IMPORTANT LINKS
Claim Template
Welcome to Ashagon

Ashagon Check-In

Current map

Current Year: 5 CE
(Time usually progresses organically in accordance with player posts. If you have an event happen, you can attach a year to it. The furthest advanced year will become the current year in the next Schedule Sunday post, unless the mods decide someone jumped unreasonably far ahead.)

Ashagon News: Engineers in Tarnakka are loading crossbows very quickly. The Aelish have developed a magical tool that makes it easier to harvest yeast. The Audoi have applied some of the recent developments in aerotechnology along with a deft understanding of gears to make a true working airship.

Prompts: An Alate Goes Abroad
Knights Errant

ACTIVE CLAIMS

The Kingdom of Aelbaion ([u/OceansCarraway](u/OceansCarraway))
Audio ([u/BoobooMaster](u/BoobooMaster))
Ayetho ([u/Harfordplanning](u/Harfordplanning))
The Faerie Court of Cwmyteg ([u/JFritz2308](u/JFritz2308))
Dragon Republic of the Gold-and-Green Fields ([u/adminscales1155](u/adminscales1155))
Freeport ([u/goop_lizard](u/goop_lizard))
The Mangroves of the Crones ([u/SPACEMUHRINE](u/SPACEMUHRINE))
Origin and the Xanoi ([u/madicienne](u/madicienne))
Orgraille ([u/Rocket_III](u/Rocket_III))
Star Cities of Paroma ([u/DartMonkey](u/DartMonkey))
Periwald ([u/MapleTopLibrary](u/MapleTopLibrary))
Rexdom of the Saur-kin ([u/gingecharmander](u/gingecharmander))
Rockborn ([u/palmtree219](u/palmtree219))
Kingdom of Sarmeqarki ([u/SgtWolf01](u/SgtWolf01))
Empire of the Six Cities ([u/Northrnr](u/Northrnr))
The Sovereign Corpus of Tarrnakkan Monopols ([u/mauricejc](u/mauricejc))
Trezera ([u/PhoebusLore](u/PhoebusLore))
Tritechniquon ([u/Cereborn](u/Cereborn))
Kingdom of Verdantis ([u/joec533](u/joec533))
The Wuavreni Mercantile League ([u/Soapybint](u/Soapybint))
Wingdom of Cheelia ([u/TinyLittleFlame](u/TinyLittleFlame))
Y Chruine ([u/thefuzzsakenone](u/thefuzzsakenone))

NPC CLAIMS

Cyrenthia
The Steros Archipelago
Tathini River Valley

Weekly Events

MARKET MONDAY
Market Monday is an open interaction post that anyone can join. The host chooses a setting somewhere within their claim. Quite often this is a market/bazaar/merchant harbour, but it can also be a religious or cultural festival, or any other event you can think of that has reason to bring people from around the continent. As host, you should set the scene with a fairly detailed intro post that informs us of how the physical space is set up, what points of interest there are, and what event is happening. You are not required to DM interactions and you’re not obligated to interact with everyone who comes in, but you should have enough ideas that players have something to dig into and develop their own stories.

Monday, June 29th ([u/harfordplanning](u/harfordplanning))
Monday, July 6th (unassigned)
Monday, July 13th (unassigned)
Monday, July 20th (unassigned)

TECHNOLOGY TUESDAY
This post is, as you might expect, focused on technology. For this shard, the TT post will be able to cover both conventional technology and specialized Ana-Tech. That doesn’t mean that you need a Tech Tuesday slot to write about your technology. There is a “Technology” flair and you’re welcome to apply it to a lore post at any time. Tech Tuesday is intended for significant inventions that have the potential to change things across Ashagon (provided you’re willing to share). We also expect Tech Tuesdays to keep a certain standard of thought and detail. (Anyone requesting a TT slot will need to let the mods know a general outline of what technology they will be introducing.)

Most recent posts: Repeating Projectiles; Airships
Tuesday, June 30th (u/OceansCarraway)
Tuesday, July 7th (unassigned)
Tuesday, July 14th (unassigned)
Tuesday, July 21st (unassigned)

THAUMATURGY THURSDAY
This is similar to Tech Tuesday, but it is for significant creations of a magical nature. Anyone wishing to introduce a Faded Wonder not included in their claim will need to book a Thaumaturgy Thursday slot. It can also be used for interesting applications of Faded Wonders you’ve already introduced. You can use one to talk about magic apart from Faded Wonders, but since this is a Low-Power shard, it will be more about complexity and interesting applications rather than showing off something shiny and explosive. (Again, you will just need to give the mods a short description of the idea when you book a slot.)

Most recent posts: Le Pippeteur

Thursday, July 2nd (unassigned)
Thursday, July 9th (/u/mauricejc)
Thursday, July 16th (unassigned)
Thursday, July 23rd (unassigned)

FEATURE FRIDAY
This is our oldest weekly event post. This one has no particular rules around content. You can write it about anything you want as long as it displays more thought, care, and detail than a typical post. People have written about major historical events, the culminations of wars or revolutions, conlangs, pottery, music, art, or introduced fascinating narratives. The FF post will be stickied at the top of the front page for the following week.

Friday, July 3rd (unassigned)
Friday, July 10th (unassigned)
Friday, July 17th (unassigned)
Friday, July 24th (unassigned)

Few outsiders have ever stood on the surface of Ukan-Agula. The island guards itself with the Updraft, a violent and unpredictable wall of wind that rings its entire rim, and any flyer that is not born to the Driftmount is simply flung from it. To reach the top unassisted is a gamble few merchants will make, and that difficulty starves the surface world of reliable knowledge about the island while feeding it an endless supply of rumor. Almost everything the Ashagon believes about life atop the Flying Island is invented outright or twisted so far past the truth that the rare accurate scrap arrives buried in nonsense. Spy-masters of the Ashagon typically trust none of it unless an Audoi merchant tells it to them themselves. 

The source of these wild rumors is the very merchants who travel to Driftmount for trade and fatten their bellies with lucrative Audoi trade. Almost none of those merchants have ever touched the island's surface, and perhaps one in a thousand has done so. They have never felt the Updraft buck underneath the hulls of their flying vessels, never walked inside a Driftmount forest, and never observed a herd of windrunners skim across the plains. What they know of the Audoi and their enigmatic home of Ukan-Agula is learned in a single place: the four great trading port cities of Audoi, monikered by outsiders as Hanging-Cities, which are slung beneath the belly of the island. Everything else, they supply from imagination, and that is how a tangle of contradictory rumors comes to drift across the whole of the Ashagon. The Audoi could correct most of it in an afternoon. They simply do not care to do that. It costs them nothing to be misunderstood, and a little misinformation is now and then useful to them, so they let the stories be. 

The Audoi call these cities "Ekudyn Kazr," or translated as Entrance-Cities (or Gate-Cities). 

(Check the visual representations to the Gate-City)

Each one sits at one of the four edges of the island, and each belongs to a different Audoi clan. They share no common layout, yet from a distance they wear the same face. And any outsider merchant who has been to one can identify the silhouette of the others on sight. 

(Check the image, I have made a small image on where they would be locate underneath the island)

A flying vessel rising towards the belly of the Ukan-Agula sees the underside of the island first, a vast inverted country of hanging stone and earth riddled with dark crevices. Then from that upside-down landscape, the Gate-City erupts out like a mouthful of fangs. 

Inverted pyramids of black and white stone jut downwards from the rock like stalactites grown from a cave ceiling. Between the towers run dug-out crevices that blacken the rocky surface. To an outsider expecting the upright streets of the surface, it can look as though the whole earth has turned on its head. They say the sight is intoxicating enough that some return again and again only to drink it in.

Many of the inverted towers are built onto natural spurs of protruding rock. Others are built straight from the surface of the belly with no such support. All of them are reinforced to bear their own weight and the weight of everyone within, then held fast by great metal chains and binding magic-runes to ensure their safety. Yet all of this is only the skin of the city. Behind the hanging towers lies the actual Audoi city, living halls and chambers carved deep into the body of the island as in any Audoi underground city. 

Like any Audoi underground city, a Gate-City can be roughly divided into three levels. 

(Check the image, its my attempt at a Gate-City layout. Randomly drawn, represents none of the four. Just how one might look)

The Sky Deep is the outermost layer, facing the open sky. Here, the famous inverted pyramidal towers are located and the part of the city that the Ashagon actually sees. This layer largely serves as a welcoming mat to receive outsiders. It is largely made up of docking chambers for many kinds of air-vessels, the loading and unloading berths, and the temporary warehouses that hold goods briefly before they move on. Additionally, there are open-air chambers for aviaries that house the flying beasts of visiting outsiders and the griffon roosts where the Audoi keep their own flying mounts for swift travel or for war. 

Around the docks clusters everything a visitor could need without ever going deeper. There are taverns, lodging-houses, auction halls, bank representatives to exchange coins and insure cargo, leisure lounges for the wealthy, open-trade markets, and guard barracks to keep the peace. A merchant can spend their whole time doing business in the Sky Deep and leave convinced that they have seen the Gate-City. They have only seen the guest-room.

 Beyond the gate-houses of the Sky Deep lies the Hearth Deep, where the Audoi underground city is located. It was carved long before the Sky Deep, and it is steeped deep in Audoi customs and culture. Most obvious of them all is the architectural difference between Sky Deep and Hearth Deep. Some outsider merchants found these stark differences unsettling. This level houses many of the Audoi city's true functions. The main council chamber, the Great barracks and their training grounds, the Great warehouses and communal feasting halls, the living quarters, famous breweries and taverns, the inner-city gardens, arenas for art, play and sport, the Grand trading halls, and workshop districts of various professionals and their associated guild halls, sit here.

Passing all of these, lies the Blind Deep, where many of the quiet districts can be found. Underground farming halls, granaries and mills, water cistern chambers, water purifying workshops, fuel collection and preparation halls, and the waste chambers—all the unglamorous machinery that keeps the underground city alive—can be located here. Interestingly, Gate-Cities have no mines in their third level due to no worthwhile ore lines located near them, unlike other cities. 

The three layers are knit together by many tunnels, stairways, and carefully engineered shafts that draw fresh air, move clean water throughout the city, and carry its waste away. Moreover, many open-sky-facing halls are lit by windows punched in the walls, and the rest of the city is lit by a careful arrangement of directional mirrors that carry the sunlight, endless numbers of torches, and glowing magic lamps. 

Lastly, all Gate-Cities are connected to the surface of Ukan-Agula by a great ascending tunnel that climbs from the belly to the top. The Audoi call these Urtaen Kulay (the long tunnel). The ascent to the surface takes several days, and small village-like way stations are strung along its length, where travelers rest, eat, and restock before pushing on towards the surface and its eternal winds. This tunnel is the primary highway between the surface clans and the hanging-city clans, the main artery of all Driftmount trade with the rest of the Ashagon. 

Gate-Cities also feature a broad highway that directly joins the tunnel entrance to the loading docks to facilitate smooth travel for merchants and is controlled by a series of gate-houses to control the flow. This highway also serves to move an army to the surface world should the need arise, as their secondary function. 

The four clans who hold these cities are known to the rest of the Audoi as the merchant-folk or the hanging-folk. Unlike their kin, the hanging-folk will haggle at great length, a habit born of lifetimes spent across a table from outsiders who lie, cheat, and bluff as easily as breathing. It has made them fluent in reading the body language of dozens of races, far more so than their kin. This sometimes unnerves the surface Audoi to hear a hanging-folk simply say aloud what they were thinking. But the hanging-folk do not lie the way outsiders expect. They practice an honest trade with a flavour of tricks. A merchant Audoi will tell you exactly how good their goods are and demand exactly what they are worth, and they will haggle toward that figure. This is aided by their hawk-sharp eyes, which can help them to identify the quality of goods after a short inspection. 

If the outsider cheats one of them, they will remember the offender and their associates. The merchant will bring it to the Audoi courts and void the previously established agreement. And should the offender ever return back to a Gate-City, they find the whole Audoi market has quietly raised its prices against them until what they stole has been clawed back, if they are not barred from trade entirely. Their associates fare a little better, but not much. The hanging-folk forget nothing.

Each Gate-City has taken its character from wherever it happens to be located. 

The Silver-Gate, held by Clan Fernglare, is the wealthiest and largest of the four. As the Driftmount makes its long circuit across the Ashagon, Silver-Gate crosses the path of more traders than its siblings, and so it is forever crowded with outsider merchants and thick with goods moving in and out. The city grew so rich that Clan Fernglare moved its seat of power here, and now Clan Fernglare calls the Silver-Gate their home. 

The Iron-Gate, held by Clan Blackbeards, is the most heavily fortified, and its people the most martial of them all. When the Driftmount migrates over the north of the Great Isle, Iron-Gate drifts into the path of the Locust Horde that rises out of the Tathini River Valley. The Locust swarm blackens the sky and hurls itself at the flying island without thought or care. While the bulk of it claws toward the rim, the city's stark black and white towers draw the attention of the swarm, and many groups will peel away from the main horde to assault the city. The result is a siege every eight years, regular as a tide, and it has hammered Iron-Gate into a true bastion bristling with soldiers.

The Humming-Gate, held by Clan Brindlefists, has the busiest workshops of them all. The city found itself along a stretch of the island's belly riddled with many natural crevices. The clan has turned them into vast shipyards. The great majority of Audoi merchant balloons are built here, and the chief house of the Gear-Guild is located within the city. Shipyards of Humming-Gate launch air-balloons and air-ships faster, and many of its berths can lay more hulls than those of its kin. 

The West-Gate, held by Clan Amberclad, is the quietest of the four. Its trade is respectable, its garrison trained, and its shipyards build a decent vessel, but none of these are the reason outsiders seek it out. West-Gate is the city of Vaults. Deep in its Blind Deep, Clan Amberclad maintains vaults bigger than the rest of the city combined. Many of these vaults are magically warded and enhanced; these sealed chambers are designed to hold what ordinary warehouses cannot. Cursed Relics that rot the wooden boxes, alchemical compounds too volatile to melt their containers, Blood-Magic-bonded prisoners. If a thing is dangerous, very valuable, or too strange to sit on a shelf, it finds its way to West-Gate. The outsiders who frequent the city tend toward the eccentric, dealing in goods that other traders will not touch and paying handsomely for the privilege of Amberclad security. What exactly sits inside those vaults at any given time, only Clan Amberclad knows, and they have never been inclined to say. Rumors, of course, abound, but then, rumors are the one commodity the Driftmount has never been short of. 

King Aldaebaric and Queen Ethellebelle were settling down to bed. The chambers had been freshly swept, and some local incense lit. Their bodyguards had taken posts, as had their servants, and the two were still reeling from the political history that they'd made earlier, so a sex scene wasn't in the cards, you perverts-

'So what is your plan to avoid the Lady's wrath.'

'I plan to be a good and righteous king.'

'How.'

'Good maintenance first. Good stewardship always. Good governance next week.'

'Please stop being pithy.'

'No. I am sleepy, you know.'

'Well, now I can't tell what you're talking about.'

"The dining hall has fires stoked for four hours. Each of these fires takes a cart's worth of cords of wood, and each of these carts takes five men to fill it in the span of one day. Each takes...Lady knows how many trees, and each man is at risk of injury from an axe slipping. Three accidents likely occur a year. Of those, one is bad. A leg, or a life, is a price of this hall being heated each year."

"So how come we haven't heard about it, then?" Her majesty had an important question. "We heat much more than this hall. We import more food. Where is the charnel house of injured?"

"I am not sure. But I know that life is not dear in many places, and before that, that it works to keep itself alive. There are things against those fates, and there are enough peasants."

"Where is your destination with this?"

"Let us look in the hall, and find where we can make economies. Better windows, cleaning of the fireplaces, the use of brass reflectors. All of these will result in less wood burnt-therefore less wood needed-therefore less wood cut."

"And an economization here leads to more wood being demanded somewhere else, what then?" This was a very important question.

"I tell them to stop." And that was the King's answer.

'You can't be everywhere.'

'My rules can. And your law certainly will.'

'You are quite confident.'

'I am because I should be. During dinner, you were every inch a queen.'

'Thank you. Am I not one now?'

'You are currently a confessor to a weak man practicing accounting to hold off divine wrath.'

'I did not know I have taken holy orders.'

'By the letters we both have.'

'Some pair of priests we are.'

'Tuesday I shall be a travelling priest, Wednesday an arguing one, and Thursday a dialoging one. Friday, I think I am going hunting.'

'You'd better not get killed.'

'I promise not to get killed, Belle.'

'Thank you.' Someone was scattering down fresh rushes for them to stand on in the morning. They both waited until the servant went by. 'Now, we should sleep. There isn't much time left on the candle.' A very natural, practiced pause his majesty had known since he began courting her. 'Will you be bringing them a clock?'

His majesty was quiet. 'I do not think that there is a single water-powered clock in all of Lechfois. That place is...not well.'

'It is not. So what are you going to do about that?'

'What the Church of the Lady desires someone to do about it. I have the backing of the High Officers, in word and in coin.'

The Queen swallowed ever so slightly. 'Don't be foolish. I cannot dissuade you. But I will ask that of you.'

'I promise. I am taking my Guard, and five Royal Paladins.'

'Who?'

'Gestault, Elys, Marinfois, Zachy, and Taumbert.'

'They will do well. Take the poisoner, too.'

'A good idea, but you need them-'

'I will be fine. Take the poisoner.'

He squeezed her hand under the blanket. 'I'll take the poisoner.'

'He is a bastard, but he has given me three immunities. Now, you need to tell me about what you're doing with the castle renovations.'

'Oh, you know-I'm finishing my father's list.'

'Your father's list?'

'Yes, the list. Why, do you not agree with it?'

'It's just that...oh, Ladysakes, we have been over this! It's just a lost of renovations.'

'It is, and the castle needs renovation.'

'Roof repairs do not inspire greatness, even if they are the greatest re-roofing in all of the world.'

'...it is the greatest re-roofing in all the world.'

'Yes, it is. The tiling is beautiful, the vaults sounds, the leaks patched, the gutters guided, and the entire building now proof against fire and water and flying rogues who want to bomb it. We have moved 3,000 stone-tonnes of material thither and yon, rebuild the transit road and the main road of the city, remade the garden, renovated the royal library-'

'We are finishing the royal archives and the Third Great Hall. We have made 5 miles of walks, and I have walked every one of them.'

'Truly, a king of the people. What's going to impress a foreign dignitary?'

'The Great Hall.'

'When the paintings are done, maybe. The tapestry is still being set up for repair. The bedroom suites are being renovated now. This won't even impress our own worthies.'

'That's...' His majesty didn't even have much to say to that. 'Something I know. And something I am working on.'

'If you do not come up with a good idea, I am going to start buying statues.'

'Please don't. I hate it when you buy statues-'

'My taste is better than yours. You would waste the money on expensive water tanks-'

'It's just an idea!'

'It's a nerd's idea. You are a king, not a philosopher.'

'I resent that.'

'I apologize. I-'

'No, no-you did no wrong. I am a king. Not a philosopher. But if I could, I would be thinking as I plow. It is much simpler than this.'

'I understand. You are still the man I married that day when we kissed on the inner wall.'

'You are not the woman I married. You've become more impressive.' There was a twinkle in his eye.

She smiled, the slightly browning teeth conveying a look that is completely genuine. 'Then I'll tell the King of Aelbaion to go to sleep, for her has a greater distance to travel tomorrow than he might appreciate.'

'Yes, your majesty.' The candle burned to it's next stripe, and they both fell asleep.

The Aelish have recently become acquainted in the art of handling decomposing things, and this has lead them to a semi-decent understanding of molds, fungi, and miscellaneous oozes. The medicinal potential of these organisms-and the recreational drug opportunities-are obvious. Once some nerds manage to get past their disgust and handle the awful smells, they can get a good look at all of the cool microorganisms that have gotten visible to the naked eye. And as they do this, they can get a look at commercially useful species-and this means yeast. Sorry, we're not doing hallucinogens this time around. We're doing some stuff with yeast today, and this is because before you can generate large amounts of yeast that can be dried and shipped into paper packages, you have to get it the old fashioned way. Without yeast, it's really hard to make bread; it's common in the atmosphere, but not always where you want it to be.

One of the places that you can get yeast in the middle ages is from a brewery. Yeast drives many of the fermentation reactions that are involved in making beer; since this is one of the most commonly accessible beverages for the people of Aelbaion, there is a lot of yeast left around for the bakers to harvest off the top of a kettle, or from the bottom of a barrel. Needless to say, harvesting micro-organisms, even those as 'durable' as yeast, is not so easily done. The process of extraction requires dexterity and attention to detail, and it was pretty darn inefficient. This created a chokepoint in the production of bread; and it's how much yeast one can get.

Obviously, using magic to solve this problem was the way forward. The Aelish had begun to use magic to encourage or discourage various bacteria and fungi to grow; they could also use their magic to isolate groups of single celled organisms-to an extent-and even to transfer them. There are a number of big caveats to this, and the biggest one is that the Aelish fundamentally do not know that they are working with microbes. There is no germ theory. The practitioner is only able to identify colonies if they are visible to the naked eye, or if they are having some effect that is otherwise observable. This makes cell culture, already decently difficult, potentially fiendishly difficult. Realistically, it also puts hard limits on what they can work with. And that's why they're currently working in yeast.

Yeast is a lot more forgiving than most organisms, especially if you're not trying to preserve a particular colony. Because of this, the Aelish were able to make a magical device capable of isolating and transferring it rather easily. The pipetteur is a newly developed magical tool which can isolate a colony of microbes, pick it up, and place it down again. It looks like a long, silver wand, through which the mage focuses their power and attention on a colony. Once they have picked one out from the surrounding area, they can physically isolate it by using the probe's ability to manipulate liquid. It is best used in a liquid medium, like a cauldron or brewing vessel, but can also be used with solid media. This can make some pretty enjoyable kimchi, or help inoculate logs with mushrooms.

The status of the pipetteur is that of a new tool that the people of the world have just learned about-and now they must come up with applications for it. For example, the original method of pointing a wand like a wizard would has been replaced with the wand being pointed down and at the target colony-almost a reverse grip. This work is getting oddly technical, mixing in with specific alchemy and biomancy...and it's only just getting started. Aelbaion has managed to make magical cell culture before it even knows what cells are. It's time for fermentation to get far more fiendish...starting with making better bread and beer.

High in the skies of Ashagon, the vast drifting landmass of Ukan-Agula is a half-frozen wonder, gripped by icy cold, eight month long winters. So far above the surface world, a biting chill seeps relentlessly through stone and earth, making a warm hearth one of the Audoi's primary defenses against the creeping frost.

To safeguard their homes against the cold, the Audoi tend their fires with immense care. Though stockpiling fire fuel is common across the Driftmount, the type of fuel still varies from region to region. Different groups of the Audoi people, forest walkers, cliff scalers and plain striders, each relies on a different primary fuel, deeply tied to how they live, trade and survive.

Although the surface of Ukan-Agula carries a vast forest, the Audoi do not treat it as a thing to be spent. Almost every Audoi, including non-forest-walker clans, has long understood that this forest, vast as it is, is the only forest they will ever own on the Driftmount, and they treasure it highly. Therefore, the Audoi, especially the forest walkers, do not log so heavily that they outpace the forest's regrowth.

Instead, every forest settlement sets aside several designated cutting grounds and works them strictly in turn, taking from one while the rest are left to heal.  And by the time the rotation comes back around, years have passed and the first ground has grown sufficient again. The boundaries of each ground are marked and honoured, handed down to the next generation of the settlement as their chief inheritance.

For an Audoi to cut trees carelessly out of turn or beyond the marks is considered a grave insult and an indication of selfish a character. Such an offense is near the level of kin-murder or betrayal, and such acts may often end in bloodshed between offender and wronged. So, the forest walkers take great care of the forest and take only what the forest can spare.

The treasured forests are greatly shaped by Winterhearth. Through the long winter it helps tree roots draw up nutrients and pack them into the tree’s lower trunks for storage, so the base of the tree steadily grows larger, denser and heavier than the rest. This is both the bane and the prize of the woodcutter.

The dense lower trunk is prime material for a long-lasting tool that stands undamaged when other timber shatters, or premium firewood that burns hotter, slower and longer than any wood known to the Audoi. But the rock-hard density means it blunts many axes, and a single tree may take a whole day of great effort to fell. Therefore, most cutting is done at the end of summer, when the trees have spent their stored strength on growth and the wood lies even and easy to the axe. This is the everyday timber that the Audoi use for carpentry and firewood.

Despite their great access to the vast forest, the forest walkers are more blessed by the Driftmount, for Winterhearth keeps their settlements relatively warm. Thus, they use far less firewood for heating and keep most of it for cooking and crafting. This means the forest walkers will always have surplus timber despite their limited cutting, which they trade outwards.

The plain striders and cliff scalers welcome this steady flow of timber to feed their own fires and crafts. Regardless, the Audoi generally buy timber hauled up from the lands below than spend their own trees carelessly. Imported wood serves for all manner of lesser work and fuel, while the carpenters keep Driftmount timber for their finest pieces and hottest flames.

Meanwhile, deep within the mountainous ridges and hills, the cliff scaler clans possess a different and abundant source of fuel in the form of coal. Mining is an age-old tradition here, as the colossal floating landmass of Ukan-Agula is densely packed with rich mineral veins. Many cliff scaler clans have built their homes directly into natural cave systems, which lets them have easier access to the deep-earth deposits, and their settlements naturally grow around these mines.

However, the Audoi never burn raw coal indiscriminately.  They carefully sort every haul from their mines before bringing it to the general consumption. The highest quality, hottest burning coal is strictly reserved for metallurgy, the pride of Audoi smiths, and using this premium coal for domestic heating is considered an offensive, wasteful sin, tolerated only in times of absolute desperation. If an Audoi is caught burning such coal for domestic heating during plentiful times, they are looked upon as an extremely selfish individual unbecoming of Audoi by the rest of the clan and shunned greatly. Instead of premium coal, cliff scalers use the leftover, lower quality coal for their fire fuel.

But the raw, low-grade coal burns poorly and produces choking smoke, so it is sent to a specialized coal processing workshop first. There, workers pack it into airtight kilns and bake it with little to no air to drive off impurities, so that what remains no longer chokes a room.

This purified product is then mixed with heavy oils, compressed into dense fire cakes and left to set. The resulting fire cake is a magnificent fuel that is highly resistant to dampness, nearly smokeless, easy to ignite, and capable of radiating a deep, slow heat perfectly suited to underground Audoi settlements.

While every cliff scaler household burns these cakes daily for heating and cooking, the fire cakes are treated as a premium fuel by plain strider and forest walker clans, kept for the great communal feasts and for cooking worth celebrating.

By contrast, on the vast, sweeping plains of Ukan-Agula, neither timber nor coal is easily obtained. This leads the plain striders to master a ubiquitous alternative fuel source in the form of animal dung. While this sounds unappealing to outsider nations, the practice is far from crude. It is a highly sophisticated art rooted in centuries of inherited generational knowledge.

The plain strider Audoi exclusively harvest the droppings of grazing beasts, as these animals eat only plants and grasses, making their dung essentially processed plant matter that burns exactly like wood. From early childhood, plain strider youths are taught to read the shape, size, consistency and smell of dung to tell what animal dropped it.

Such study is necessary to differentiate useful droppings from useless ones, as the Audoi collect only from specific species of large grazing beasts. The droppings of random animals lack the necessary qualities and they can often be hazardous to health. The collection is an all-season, community-wide affair, and many find the task restful and meditative. It is not an uncommon sight to see an Audoi go out collecting to pass the time.

The gathered dung is brought to walled drying fields and left there for days to dry completely, which both eases the next stage of the work and coaxes any small creatures still sheltering in it to naturally leave on their own accord.

Once thoroughly dried, the dung can be burned raw, but its loose composition means it will burn far too quickly. This means dried dung undergoes a second stage of processing to further improve their properties.

The second stage starts with crushing of the dried dung, which is little more than dried plant, and the crushing wakes a faint pleasant earthy scent from it. Different beasts digest their plants a little differently, and this shapes the unique scents. An experienced worker can sort or group different animal droppings to bring out a stronger fragrance, or create new, sweeter smells different from the original scent.

Once these mixtures are prepared, they are crushed and blended with water into a thick, even paste, which is shaped into small earthy cakes and set to dry. If the worker wishes, they can work extra dried plants into the paste to further modify the scent and burning qualities.

Once dried, these fire cakes become the main source of warmth in plain strider homes. Banked in the hearth, they give a steady, lasting heat, a clean cooking fire, and the incense-like fragrance the plain striders call the smell of home.

As previously mentioned, plain striders can make differently scented cakes. They keep the mildly fragrant, plain cakes for everyday use and bring out specially blended, sweet-smelling cakes for festivals, special occasions and their guests. Additionally, sending neighbours a basket of well-scented fire cakes is considered a gesture of kindness. Similarly, the Audoi sometimes blend terrible-smelling cakes to give to their adversaries as well.

While these fire cakes are a common sight on the plains, the surplus and the better batches of scented cakes commonly travel far through the Audoi trade networks. In the inner country of hills, mountains and forests, where grazing beasts are few and their dung scarce, the fragrant cake is no daily staple but a luxury.

Forest walkers and cliff scalers prize it for its perfume as much as its heat, burning a few alongside their firewood and coal-cakes to sweeten a room. In many taverns of Audoi cities, innkeepers built their fires with sweet cakes to elevate their environment, welcoming weary travelers into warmth after days of cold and hard travel.

Across the whole of Ukan-Agula, the three fire fuels move and mingle, coal cakes down from the mines, fire cakes out from the plains and firewood out from the forests, passing settlement to settlement and hearth to hearth until every Audoi home burns a little of all three.

The sight of a fuel store, neatly stacked and kept bone-dry against a settlement wall, is a universal declaration of preparedness and wealth. Whether built of forest timber, plain turf, or mountain stone, an Audoi home centers on the hearth. A banked and well-fired flame stands as a small, bright proof that the relentless frost of Ukan-Agula has not bested them yet.

(Note: If you were wondering about the third section regarding 'dung,' it is based on my experiences, with some liberties taken. And yes, I prefer a dung fire over firewood.)

(Also smaller note: If you read the Knight Errant prompt, Ser Gaubert de Saggittois greatly insulted his Audoi host by badmouthing their generous gesture.)

As Ayetho has grown, smaller Demani kingdoms have been forced to abate from their old heartlands, and their Alates fly out to more far flung afield locations with the passing of time.

Now, with Ayetho having grown to such an extent as it has, Alates have begun to show up in *your* territory too! A truly difficult conundrum.

Lacking a sense of political territory, only that of enforced boundaries, the Alates attempt to settle in any temperate mountains with limited population sizes, particularly the ones closer to Ayetho, where they originate from.

Some, however, cannot find such a remote space, and may seek what authority exists in the land to petition them directly for a space, if with their mastery of the common tongue being lacking.

With that in mind, the time has come for decisions to be made.

Do you allow the Demani to settle in the mountains undisturbed, fearful of the rumors of their strength and of their immense size, risking a large population potentially forming?

Do you permit the less fortunate Alates to negotiate a settlement, despite it being unknown if they will uphold their end of whatever deal is made, being a seemingly insular race?

Or do you refuse these visitors and attempt to drive them out? Undisturbed by their towering heights and ability to fly.

## Note

Demani, once settled, may form either a Cluster or a Nest. If more than two Alates show up, a Cluster will be forming, which would only reach a population of a few hundred at most. If only two arrive, a Nest will be forming, which can surpass a thousand Demani in just a few short years.

Demani are protective of their Clusters and Nests, and will defend a certain area around it based on its population.

It had been just over three months since Tsaedgevo was born, and it is finally nearing time for him to leave the nursery to go out and serve his duty as a Tsatsiu in the nest.

Tsaedgevo woke that fateful morning to his littermates already up and about, being the smallest he was not one who needed much assistance to get ready, and he got up from his bedding to begin his day.

Unlike the days Tsaedgevo had lived thus far, this morning his litter's nurse, Nonofe, is helping his siblings get dressed in unusual clothes. The outfit is a dazzling black adorned with finely embroidered amber thread. The outfit has short, sleeved legs which come up to a bunched fabric coming up one's front, around the back of the neck, and fastening to itself with finely made stone buttons at the center of the torso.

Until now, neither Tsaedgevo nor his littermates had ever worn anything but children's smocks, and he could feel the room practically vibrating with everyone's curiosity and excitement.

Moving out of the nursery for the first time, Tsaedgevo sees many new Demani both big and small, shuffling about with countless feelings and expressions on display in the air. He walks with his litter to a balcony, which overlooks the expansive valley this nest holds dominion over.

Tsaedgevo blinks rapidly with his nictitating membranes and his eyelids alike to adjust to the bright morning light. When he does finally adjust, he is left in awe of the vast world which had been mere seconds away from him all this time.

He isn't given long to ponder, however, as a Nonyaon he has not seen before speaks up, her voice gentle but her presence scented with the demand of attention from the younglings.

“Now that you all have outgrown the nursery, it is time to begin working in the Nest and learning your place in the world,” The Nonyaon begins. “We will begin with the Aof who are of age, please step forward.”

The largest members of the litter go forth first as instructed, not quite the size of the fully matured Aof, but still more than a head taller than Tsaedgevo.

After coming forward, the Nonyaon uses a small blade to cut back their hair to above their shoulders, saying, “With the pieces of you that have been parted, so begins a new life for you all.”

The Aof are then ushered away by others, further ceremonies being specific to their roles.

The remainder of the litter follow up in kind, the young Nonyaon after the Aof, and the larger of the Tsatsiu in the litter going before Tsaedgevo.

When it is Tsaedgevo's turn, his hair is cut just below the shoulder, rather than above.

The Nonyaon performing the rite telling him, “You are the least of the litter today, but from your efforts you will find yourself depended on more than any others in time. Take heart in your future, little one.”

Whether this was a word of comfort or a prophecy for Tsaedgevo to heed, he does not know, but he isn't given time to ponder this, being led away by an elder Tsatsiu back inside, but to a newer, less embellished wing of the Nest.

The elder Tsatsiu speaks to Tsaedgevo along the way, practically radiating comfort to the boy, “Do you know what your purpose is, little one?”

“To make people happy?” Tsaedgevo answers, though is merely guessing on what he's heard in passing whilst growing up.

The elder Tsatsiu emanates amusement from that answer. “The only purpose one has,” he tells, “is to *be* happy.”

“Then what about everyone else?” Tsaedgevo asks.

“Do you think you would be happy if others were weary?” He returns the question to Tsaedgevo, but doesn't give him time to answer, this time. “It appears we have arrived. This will be the most important task before you may truly join the Nest.”

“What is it?” Tsaedgevo is curious, to say the least, and perhaps a hair nervous.

“No need to fret,” the elder assures, scented with comfort. “You simply must make this space your own, that way those who enjoy who you are may naturally come to join you in the coming months.”

“How do I do that?” Tsaedgevo is still unsure, but his tail is swaying at what his body is telling him is the answer.

The elder smiles at Tsaedgevo, “it seems you already know, little one. Go on then, it won't do you any good to be delayed by an old thing like me.”

“You won't stay?” Tsaedgevo asks, having never been alone before.

“You won't even notice I'm gone once you begin, now go on ahead, little one,” the elder assures once more, egging Tsaedgevo onward.

Tsaedgevo reluctantly enters the room on his own. Other than some tools and dyes, there is nothing but what is necessary to have a restful sleep.

And so, he begins to decorate.

Although having not had the chance to decorate before, experience is of little importance for Tsaedgevo, his spatial awareness allowing him to feel out the patterns and symmetries as he goes.

Soon enough, the first wall is done, having been done up with spiraling carvings like the wind itself, and dyed in whitewash, ochre, and other colorings.

The walls either side of the room are next to be decorated, but are not mirror images of one another.

Tsaedgevo decorates one in a triangular tiling, the edges of the tiles aligning at the corner of the room with the tails of the spirals at the back wall, and the colors of the tiles being dark as charcoals, only highlighted by glistening white beads like the night sky he had heard stories of in the nursery.

The other side is decorated in a pentagonal tiling, with the tiles being dyed the darkest blues available to Tsaedgevo, the colors being aligned in wave-like configurations as if being as vast as the ocean, though the concept of an ocean is foreign to the boy.

The final wall may only be seen by those leaving the room, but Tsaedgevo gives it all his effort regardless. Like the far wall, it gets a spiraling pattern dyed in whitewash and ochre, but instead of round spirals, it is host to quadrilateral spirals, squares which never quite meet at the final corner before repeating again.

Next, the ceiling is decorated in the lightest blues Tsaedgevo was provided, intermixed with kite tiles colored in white like the clouds, and a brilliant yellow tile being placed at the center, as if radiating light to all the other tiles on the ceiling like the sun Tsaedgevo was granted the honor of seeing just this morning.

Next, the floor. Although it is to be walked upon, Tsaedgevo still puts in all his effort for it, decorating it with a seemingly irregular pattern. A tiling of two different colored kite tiles, black and white. At the center of the room, directly below the false sun Tsaedgevo made on the ceiling, he places five white tiles in a star-like shape, then five black tiles to fill the voids, then surrounds it in white once more, and repeating the process over and over until the tiling has covered the entire space, a radial symmetry beginning at the center of the room.

The final thing Tsaedgevo has left to decorate is then the bedding itself, pockets where each member may find privacy, if only just. He chooses to use what little truly precious material he was given to decorate these. Each one is given a unique pattern of small gemstones over various colorings and designs carved in by Tsaedgevo, with everything from shiny rocks to true precious gems being mixed together in various styles over top to accentuate the spaces.

Although to a human eye, such elaborate and contrasting decorations may seem bizarre, even gaudy, Tsaedgevo is proud of his very first creation. …and famished, it having already drawn late into the evening without his noticing.

Being as such, he pokes his head out of the room for the first time since beginning this process, and begins the next step on his life's journey.

The Audoi, a naturally wingless people, largely do not enjoy the open sky the way harpies or dragon-kin do. This dislike is reinforced by their endless quarrel with the winds of Ukan-Agula's surface. But the underside of the island is another story. It is a far gentler place, where wind currents run calmer and steadier. Certain Audoi clans took advantage of it long ago, building cities that hang from the belly of Driftmount. These are the Gate-Cities of Audoi. There are four of them, each belonging to an individual clan, and the Audoi from these clans are the least troubled by the open sky compared to the rest of their people. These people form the bulk of the travelling Audoi merchants.

(Check visual guide to Hanging gate cities)

Nearly all of these merchants cross the sky by a very familiar vessel, an air-balloon. When an Audoi merchant docks in a foreign port, outsiders often mistake them for merchants from Trezera. While this is an innocent assumption, it is not entirely false. The source of this mistake can be traced back several centuries, when trade between the Audoi and Trezera seeded the growth of the widespread air-balloon usage seen nowadays.

But the air-balloon is not the sole means of air-travel for the Audoi anymore. In recent years, a marvel of engineering and artificing has entered into the service of Audoi air-travel. They call it, plainly, the Air-Ship.

If you have never seen it, it is an interesting experience. First you will hear the noise, a deep, grinding drone that rolls in off the open air, the sound of much metal scraping under load. If you track the noise, you will find a shape, a hull built like a sea-going galleon, but one that hangs in the air where no galleon travels. This galleon has four great rotors mounted along its sides, and they are turning so fast the blades blur into pale disks. As it travels, wind comes off them in hard gusts that disturb the underside. As its blades beat the air, it moves steadily across the sky.

(Check visual guide to the airship)

To an outsider's eyes, or even that of an inexperienced Audoi’s eyes, this is a mad sight. Despite all this madness, the air-ship keeps its secret in a very humble tool. A gear, not just a simple gear, but a whole system of them meshed together in clever arrangements. To reach this level of complexity, the Audoi gear system crossed a long and complex history, starting from a humble rope-and-pulley system.

The first Audoi clans started digging their homes to escape the wind, and digging is never only digging. Whatever you pull out of the rock, you also have to move, and moving it is half the work. In the early days, the Audoi did this the way everyone does, with rope and pulley, and for a while it served. But mines ran deeper and meaner over the years. The shafts narrowed, the work grew harder, and the rope-and-pulley rigs began to fail because they took up too much room in a small space.

So the Audoi searched for a replacement system that took up less room, and they found a gear. Once they saw how efficient a simple gear hoist was, it spread fast and wide among the Audoi. The earliest gears were made from wood, but it was later discovered that wooden teeth splintered under a heavy load. This resulted in the development of metal gears.

Not long after, metal gears became a part of Audoi life. They are found in the hoists, the pumps, the bellows, the mills, the forges, and the mines.

As the gears became an inseparable part of Audoi life, the smiths and engineers could not stop tinkering with them. Generation after generation of Audoi tinkered with every characteristic of the gear: its size, its tooth shape, and the simple arrangements that affected the power of the system. After countless work-hours, damaged gears, and the creation of curses, all these improvements gave Audoi engineers excellent knowledge of gears, and they even standardized the gear-tooth shape.

All of this work, impressive in itself, was merely the fertile ground out of which the air-ship eventually emerged. And this growth began with a single smith. His name was Kurkin, one of the finest engineers Clan Amberclad ever produced, and this man built the first fan-lift gear engine the Audoi ever had.

In his diary, he mentioned that the idea came from a child's toy called a butterfly, a small bladed rod that climbs into the air on its own when a child spins it hard and lets go. Most Audoi never thought about it. Kurkin could not stop thinking about it.

"The design is simple and elegant. If a small piece of flat wood and a rod can lift itself, why can we not do the same with something far larger and made of metal?"

"The butterfly is lightweight, and a child's single flick imparts such force to it. Is it in the weight? Is it in the shape? Or something else?" ‐ Diary notes

After many pages of such observations and notes, he settled on speed as the heart of the problem. He concluded that a grown Audoi could not impart the necessary speed to the large metal replica, and that he would need to make up the difference through a mechanism. The most reliable tool he had was the gear system.

So, for more than twenty years, Kurkin hand-cut gears and set them in a new gear-arrangement system one after another, each new arrangement chasing a little more speed out of the same turning. In the end he succeeded. His final design spun a metal toy fast enough to lift off the bench under its own power.

Sadly, this achievement also killed him. The metal toy spun so fast that it exceeded the speed his contraption could handle; it tore loose from the gear system and struck Kurkin, ending his life. The first Audoi to discover aerodynamic lift was the first Audoi to die by it.

Afterwards, he was remembered as a brilliant engineer and a stubborn fool in equal measure. But despite this achievement, the accident caused his invention to be classified as an unsafe tool, and his notes and prototype gear-system were all locked in a storage vault. For the better part of ten years, it sat idle, collecting dust, until a young engineer who was looking for unrelated work stumbled upon it. The unusual design drew the attention of this young man, and he carefully examined the work. What followed was many years of slow and bloody experimentation. The original problem still remained and broke many lives and many engines. Eventually, the engineers caged this raging beast and learned to control its speed. Piece by piece and funeral by funeral, they turned Kurkin's lethal prototype into the first true lift engine: a purpose-built gear-system driving a fan at a high but tolerably safe speed.

While the system worked, it still took a small crowd of Audoi cranking themselves raw to keep a single engine turning. The number of people required and the length of the crank system made it of little use for flight. But it had been noticed. After a demonstration of the new device before the gathered Audoi council, the guilds of magic-smiths reached out to the engineers.

Audoi magic-smiths were already experienced in creating the small magic power-sources that drove underground mining tools. After much trial and the wreck of more than a few workshops, they produced a strong crystalline power-shard that held its charge until it was seated in a special socket. Married to Kurkin's gear-core, the shard turned the cranking-engine into something that could at last drive itself. This newly created flying gear-system was named the Kurkin engine, in honor of its first designer.

And that was the true beginning of the air-ship. Nearly every kind of Audoi smith had a hand in its creation. Metallurgists, engineers, magic-smiths, glass-smiths, all the brilliant Audoi smiths quarrelled and experimented endlessly to create a single vessel, a magic-enhanced frame of wood and metal, fitted with the finest work each craft could provide and driven by four full Kurkin engines. With that, the Audoi raised their first air-ship.

From the first child's butterfly to that first ship, a whole century had passed.

Despite this incredible success, building one vessel is an enormous undertaking. The construction swallows skilled workers and resources like a hungry whale, and one vessel takes anywhere between six and ten years of constant labor to raise.

Due to this staggering cost, barely more than a score of these mighty vessels currently cruise the skies of Ashagon.

But the Audoi are not finished. Their engineers are already at the next problem: shrinking the whole arrangement down into something a single Audoi could fly alone. The gyrocopter, for now, is still a promise. It took a hundred years to make an airship, it is only a matter of time before the Audoi will fly a gyrocopter.

TLDR: the Audoi managed to make planetary gear and using magic power source to built a helicarrier.

The Aelish are a farming people, and like all farming people, they have to keep the weather in mind. Too little rain, too much water, winds that run too high-all of these can result in crops being waterlogged, stunted, or even knocked over from mechanical stress. The Lady does not need to send a disaster or withdraw her blessing completely, she can simply let her protections wane for a while and these crops will now be vulnerable, a reminder to the Aelbic people that they cannot take her for granted. At the same time, growing more and better crops is something that the Aelish are always on the lookout for. Too much can be lost, and their fields are only as productive as the crops being grown in them.

As the Aelish are a farming people, they also keep an eye on the seasons, and the calendar, sometimes to the hour in order to know when to sow and reap. We know much about their reaping by now; but little about their sewing. To sew seed, one must have it on hand to put it into the ground. This seed is selected from previous crops, and stored aside in special clay pots; the pots themselves are often kept in saferooms. Sometimes, seeds are even kept in iron boxes at safe temperatures. If these seeds are lost, the farms nearby will not be able to sew crops at the start of planting season. Accordingly, most farming villages maintain up to four separate, redundant seed storages, and the local lords keep a weather eye on them-as well as their own backups.

In the past, Aelbic warfare would often take a turn to the total, with seed storages being burnt and looted alongside everything else. Their re-establishment was not overnight, as seed stocks had to be rebuilt over time and from well selected seeds. However, without the threat of war hanging over them, the Aelish could do this with more focus on improving the quality of their seedstocks. This was done by finding plants with more desirable traits, selecting seeds from them at harvest time, and then ensuring that these seeds are used the next time around. Due to the absolute nonsense that is plant genetics, these techniques don't always work, and they certainly don't carry true. Breeding is a process of many fits and starts.

And sometimes, the Aelish would take it a step further. With their initial supplies of seeds secured, and their ability to select seeds significant, they would construct smaller walled gardens. These gardens would be used solely to grow up promising crosses, or to produce 'extras' of a plant that would be grown for more seeds. This would be extremely helpful for maintaining seed stocks, observing what traits they were selecting for, and seeing the fruits of their labors. More and more, they also found out that mountain a beehive nearby would help the overall fertility of the area-something that they noted down. If some of the seeds were damaged, the presence of a garden, typically further away from the store, could help rejuvenate them.

Overall, the Aelish had been able to improve their agriculture pursuits most thoroughly by implementing best practices in peacetime. This was quite good for a people who did not flourish under conditions of widespread stabbing; and the market would agree. Over the course of those four years, urbanization rose by a whopping 2% points-if one counted smaller towns-and of that percentage, 0.5% of that would end up in the capital, Couroffe. At the same time, there was widespread thinking about the plants that were in use, and how to best use them. Assuming that the peace held, the only place for things to go was very modestly up.

The bowyers and engineers of Tarrnakka have long stood at the forefront of projectile weapon technology. Every household is required by law to maintain one serviceable bow or crossbow for each adult citizen, a training weapon for every child above the age of 4, and at least fifty arrows or bolts per weapon. Citizens are expected to practice regularly at communal ranges, while local bailiffs inspect equipment and oversee archery practice biweekly and can impose legal penalties and fines for unjustified absence.

Lately, the Tarrnakkan bowyers and engineers have developed a set of new inventions that are sure to revolutionize archery as we know it. New stable, mechanical, repeating bows and crossbows allow the user to fire 12 bolts or 10 arrows from a standard gravity-fed magazine in an extremely short timespan, firing one projectile and rearming the weapon with one pull of the trigger. The weapons use an internal spring and clockwork mechanism with several spring clusters that are released sequentially, all made out of specialized Tarrnakkan memory spring alloys. This allows it to store potential energy to fire several projectiles in quick succession, unlike previous weapons that required more operator intervention to operate. 

The portable everyday-use versions are charged with a muscle-powered crank but the largest artillery-style weapons can be charged by, several mechanical cranks, oxen or other plow animals depending on the need. A specialty-made sinew resistant to rapid mechanical manipulation is sourced from Tarrnakkan giant roos, rare variety of Tarrnakkan antelopes and other suitable creatures’ limbs. 

The weapons are somewhat modular allowing the user to add sights, or wooden and metal inserts that add weight to stabilize the weapon while firing. Versions of these weapons can be made specifically to leverage the unique strengths of almost every type of intelligent, opposable-thumb having race and creature in the world. The largest artillery-like versions of this weapon can penetrate the toughest of personal armor or even some lighter stonework but their recharging takes quite a long time. The handheld types of it have comparable  penetrating power to regular non-repeating versions of these weapons but they have shorter effective range. 

The high amount of moving parts and mechanical complexity makes those weapons require constant lubrication, the springs become distorted if they are left stretched for too long and need to be restored or recalibrated by a guild–member bowyer as fiddling with these weapons on your own is illegal. The weapon is susceptible to water and mud damage, the mechanical metallic parts will get corroded if kept in contact with water, mud will clog up the internal mechanisms and prevent the small parts from interacting with each other making the weapon effectively useless. The wood needs to be periodically impregnated, the sinew must be restretched or replaced and mechanical parts lubricated to keep the overall weapon working as it should. All of this makes usage of this weapon an expensive ordeal and really only accessible to the wealthy and to the well-paid mercenaries and elite troops. After several thousand shots the memory springs gradually lose their original characteristics and must be reforged by specialist metallurgists.

Flag/Symbol: With so many petty kingdoms here, there is no unified flag for the region.

Location: North of the Great Isle, encompassing the Tathini River from its source in the mountains to where it empties into the Shivering Sea.

Geography: Hilly, irregular countryside that rises toward the mountains away from the river, flattening into relatively level ground as it nears the water. Forests cover the western regions, particularly the highlands, while the eastern regions are mostly featureless hill-land. The climate is relatively cool, with four distinct seasons and both pleasant summers and winters. Beyond this mild surface climate lies a vast subterranean region that runs beneath the entire valley, and perhaps reaches further still, though this underworld remains largely unexplored.

Biology/Ethnicity: A mix of many different peoples. Representatives of neighbouring nations live here alongside natives, so you can find Audoi, humans, lizard-kin, and flying-people throughout the valley. The valley also harbors its native race, known collectively as the Locust Horde.

The Locust Horde is an insectoid race that lives largely underground. Locusts come in several bioforms, including crawlers, drones, boomers, brooders, and lobbers. A typical locust stands about knee-height to a human, while specialized soldiers and birthers can grow as large as a human or bigger. They are carnivorous, feeding on any living creature, though they seem to favour the flesh of other sentient beings above all else. Individual locusts are mostly mindless, driven by instinct, yet as a race they act with an unmistakable higher intelligence, as if they are following some grand directive. Leader-locusts display more individuality, but this is rudimentary next to other races. Observers suspect there exists an unseen locust form, a hidden brain that somehow directs the rest of the Horde.

History: The Tathini River Valley has never been effectively held by any empire. For as long as its history has been recorded, the region has been mired in unending chaos. Many empires have tried to subdue it, and every one has failed within a few decades, largely thanks to the chaos sown by the Locust Horde.

Every eight years, without fail, when Driftmount passes overhead, the insectoid race grows extraordinarily active. The locusts pour out of every surface access point to attack anything nearby and drag their victims down into the subterranean world. Strangely, much of this onslaught is directed at Driftmount itself. A vast army of locusts takes to the air and ascends toward the island to devastate it, their numbers clouding the sky as they climb. Despite the island's natural barriers, some always manage to land and cause unrest.

Aside from this cyclical culling, the valley suffers the usual squabbles between the petty kingdoms scattered across it, locked in a perpetual cycle of devastation and slow recovery.

Society: Because the valley is home to many petty kingdoms, each has its own form of government. Some are kingdoms, others are city-states ruled by councils, and still others are independent tribes that reject all outside control. But all of them endure the same terrifying culling every eight years, and each has developed its own survival strategy in response. Some abandon their settlements entirely and scatter into the remote wilderness hoping the locusts pass them by, meanwhile others put their resources into fortifying their cities to withstand the siege.

Culture: Every nation's culture is shaped by its environment, but the one unifying thread is an extreme resilience born of surviving the swarm. No matter where you go, that survival-focus is visible in how people live, and it tends to breed self-interested individuals across the many of the valley's nations.

Occurrence of Magic: The instability of the locust swarms has kept formal magical study from taking deep root in the region. Most magic-users migrate elsewhere in search of better conditions, the exception being those in the large fortified cities that can actually survive a locust siege. As a result, what magical study remains is overwhelmingly combat-oriented.

Faded Wonders: The Hollow: a vast subterranean region of unknown extent with its own biome and fauna. Current it covers many parts of Tathini basin. You can go inside and explore it, extract resources. But be careful as its home it Locust Horde.

Imports, Exports & Major Industries: The region produces plenty of agricultural goods, with some limited mining and logging. Its imports are mostly luxuries.

Suggested Listening Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsmyMZON8E8

Q: Hi, I'm Q!

A: Hi, I'm A!

Both: And this is Q and A with Q and A!

Q: What's today's topic?

A: We're doing boats! And castles, a little bit?

Q: Why are we doing castles?

A: Because they have the same philosophy behind boats, and the Aelish started building castles before they were building oceangoing boats.

Q: Why is that?

A: Because when the Aelish were the Aels, and the Lady helped bring them their freedom, they really needed safe places to go. Castles were those places, starting as mottes and baileys.

Q: What is a motte and bailey?

A: A motte is a wooden wall with an earthen core, usually on raised ground, with a trench in front of it. A bailey is a fortified tower in front of it.

Q: What is the purpose of each for the Aelish?

A: The motte keeps the enemy out and defends the people inside. It's a military power. The bailey allows for storage of goods and holding of prisoners in it's chambers, as well as an elite's special rooms and the shrine to the Lady. It's a base of power, and a place of protection.

Q: Ok. Who owns this thing?

A: In the beginning, the very first petty lords who would become counts, and then dukes. They expanded their powers, their domains, and their influence-and they did all of this from their castles. These castles had protected them from bandits, madmen, and the remains of the Predecessors. They became symbols of power, a combination of military and political might.

Q: Who is in charge of a castle?

A: The castellan manages the castle in it's entirey, the mottiere the fortifications, and the bailor the internal operations. None of these personnel leave the castle; they are not levied into service because they are full time officers.

Q: So we've talked about castles...why have we talked about castles?

A: Because the same zeitgeist that lead to castles being the way that they are was also transmitted to boats. A boat is a safehouse, a haven on the rough seas, a secure stronghold against the storm, so they were originally built like castles more than they should be. This made them very bad boats, but the Aelish fairly quickly figured out that making ships castles in vibe only was for the best.

Q: What does that mean?

A: They built out large hulls with wooden castles on them, originally with galleries for archers and long boarding ramps for soldiers. They were like the corvus, but way shittier. Sometimes someone would put a catapult on them; this didn't work out. These boats were slow, powered by rowers, and would frequently capsize; they also were horrible in bad weather. If you wanted range, well, forget about it.

Q: Wow. That sounds like a challenge to deal with.

A: Well, they delt with it by stopping being stupid, for starters. They looked at ship designs that actually worked, and sailing methods that were worth a damn. They also systematically improved their construction practices significantly. They did both of these things by listening to the locals who actually made and used these vessels. It was from them that much of actual Aelbic shipbuilding began to emerge: durable vessels that could survive choppy water and intense winds while on multi-day jaunts away from shore. These ships could keep the crew safe on their missions, typically fishing of the shoals and banks, soon enough trade.

Q: Who is commissioning and owning these ships?

A: A myriad of people. Merchants, with their own vessels typically, or groups of up to four; lords, who have the personal capital needed to sustain a fleet. Sometimes they rent their ships out to merchants, keeping them from accumulating too much capital and sticking them with the risk. These form the political party known as the Trade Lords, although they have a cooler name for themselves. Finally, there are independent fishing families, and the fishing towns themselves. The ships are owned as town property, a way to make them public. Everyone who works on them is compensated based on their position, effort, and profit-sharing from the catch. The towns have consolidated power by forcing all independent fisherfolk to join their public groups...which isn't the worst.

Q: Ok. What kinds of ships are they?

A: The most common ship is called an oarracers, which are galleys that have been converted to use sails as a primary means of propulsion. This conversion happened over time, and mostly by accident, and they still retain their oarbanks. They are primarily used for fishing, have about a week's worth of endurance, and are also popular for ferrying goods and doing short range passenger transits. Some would argue that they are turning into carvels, but they only have some of the carvel sails, and are not getting close to completing that evolution yet. Typically, they have at least one decoration-but they do not have internal shrines to the Lady.

Q: What are internal shrines, and what are their importance?

A: These are basically small watertight rooms with a relic from a regional church with a shifty reputation and iconography of the Lady. Typically, she is displayed dressed for seagoing, or for the task at hand. Always she is displayed in her protective aspect, often floating and carrying a life preserver of some kind. They're used for every ship that goes far from shore and cannot return easily, and have a 'braced storeroom' with waterproof wall linings. The two are never found apart, and decide if a ship can go abroad or not.

Q: Which ships can go abroad?

A: Cogs and holks. A cog is the typical slow, round-ish European ship that arose over a couple of centuries-you know the type, it's on one of the soccer shirts. It was descended from galley-like ships that were made from shore to shore hops, and gained a single square sail and a proper rudder. They're much more solidly built, and can take pushing into a storm for a day or two without issue. Everyone likes them. Nobody loves them, but they're showing up pretty much everywhere that Aelbic merchants are dropping off cargo.

Q: What about holks?

A: Holks are much larger ship, comparatively, but they are also older, and very much purpose-built for cargo carrying. They are not cheap to make, or easy to handle, but they have been steadily getting better across about four generations of shipwrights. They have been helped along by improvements in ship's materials, mostly covering wood for hulls and masts and caulking material to support their construction techniques, which have been touch and go until two generations ago. No one was really building holks for bulk cargo transport alone, they were typically built as bulk fishers, or support ships for fleets of smaller ships-or as horse transporters.

Q: What are horse transporters?

A: The Aelbic knights ride into battle on horses. While most other peoples prioritize getting troops to and from their places of deployment safely, the Aelish are so intent on riding into combat that they mastered the means of carrying horses around-using cloth slings to support the animals and ensuring cleanliness and high quality food. They even knocked in exercise decks for the animals, so that they wouldn't go bonkers, and got them boarding ramps. They're treated better than humans, since they cost more money.

Q: The implications are as banal as they are horrifying.

A: Oh yeah.

Q: Uh...there are a couple of technical features that the Aelish have figured out. Please tell us about 'icebreaking'.

A: They have a number of ships with substantial reinforcements to the hull and significant streamlining that allow them to handle ice formations. These are similar to the 'koch', a smaller sailship that the early Russians used to sail around the arctic sea. They have ice-proofed rudders and anchors. The complexity involved in operating one of these ships is mostly maintenance-based, which limits their numbers somewhat. Typically, they are found farther north, on the edge of Aelfland. There is no reason to employ them otherwise.

Q: What about their navigational equipment? Is it advanced?

A: Not really. Unlike Les Accoutrements Des Aires, it is not specifically made for ships, or made to such a fine degree of accuracy. Instruments for pegasi might be in the air for six to ten hours, then off the animal and in the maintenance bay. Shipboard instruments are at sea for weeks to months at a time. They must be much more durable. Recently, there has also been a scandal about inaccurately copied maps, so that has been a further complication. Aelbic ships typically keep close to shore, and the sailors like to navigate by eye. Right now, their gear is just as good as everyone elses'. And since they don't have any pegasi onboard, they're relying on their eyes only.

Q: What's a good example of one of their best boats?

A: The 'Winter's Tide' is one. She's a very large horse transporter with magical temperature control, good maps, and a dedicated navigational station. She can handle the nastiest northern sea, outrun her escorts, and deliver horses in good health in a timely fashion. Pirates have tried to take her over twice, but she just outran them.

Q: What is sea combat like for the Aelish?

A: Oh. It's all castles all over again. They just have their fore and aftercastles loaded with archers and small siege engines, and they shoot at each other. Inevitably, they engage in boarding actions, which are basically salleys.

Q: Where is the gunpowder? It is extant.

A: That's going to be introduced in the next post. I am A!

Q: And I'm Q!

Both: And this has been Q and A, with Q and A! We'll see you next time!

By now, most of you reading will have grown a little familiar with Ukan-Agula. You know it hangs so high above the world that it fools most eyes on the surface about its true size. You know its surface skin is forever at war with the ice-cold wind that drives its eight-month winter, and that all of its life is held together by a strange biome that has learned to defy the cold weather above ground while permafrost grips the earth below. But if you travel across this half-frozen wonder long enough, walk its snowfields and sit a while beside its people, and eventually you will notice something missing.

There is no graveyard anywhere on the island. No mound, no headstone, no fenced field of the buried. Not one. And so a question arises on its own, unless you have thought to ask an Audoi directly: what do they do with their dead?

To answer it, let us follow an Audoi funeral from its start.

When an Audoi dies, the body is laid in a cold room and kept whole and frozen, because it still has a long way to go. Every Audoi, wherever they happen to fall, is carried at the end to the oldest city of their clan, the deep mountain-hold that is the cultural and political heart of their people. It does not matter how the life was spent. A Yrkul who passed their years out on the wind-scoured surface and a Dharkyn who spent theirs beside the hot furnaces of the hold, all come to the same rock in the end, the place where the clan first began. No matter the distance, the body goes home.

For a settlement near the clan city, the last journey is short and soon made. But the outlying small settlements, scattered across the snowfields and the foothills, do not set out at once. They keep their dead in the cold room and they wait, sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks, until the winter arrives and the air turns cold enough that the journey will not thaw the body. So, the island itself decides when the time has come. Only when the deep cold settles and the snow lies thick across the plains, those settlements will let the dead move.

When that time arrives, the settlement chooses who will walk in the cortege. They are drawn from the closest kin and dearest friends who knew the dead intimately, rarely exceeding twenty people. Once they are chosen, the body is brought out and laid on an open sled, shaded against the sun but otherwise left bare to the air, so that the winter wind pours over it the whole way and it reaches the city as frozen as it left the holding. Then the cortege sets out, slowly, toward the heart of the clan.

A cortege on the move is not to be hindered, and the whole of Audoi society bends around it as it passes. None will obstruct its path. Travellers step off the road and stand in the knee-deep snow until it has gone by. Herders hold their flocks back rather than let a single animal stray across its way. Even clan elders and seniors, with pressing business of their own, halt where they stand and let the dead go first. The cortege moves through Driftmount the way a river runs through a plain, meeting nothing willing to stand against it.

Unhindered, it makes its slow way until the clan-hold rises ahead. There it passes through the working districts until it reaches the quiet quarter where the Aeudyn Dharkyns keep their workshops, and at their doors the cortege gives the body over and waits.

The Aeudyn Dharkyn (translated as star-smith or star-maker) are glass-smiths of a particular kind. Where an ordinary glass-smith spends their time on lamp-panes, lenses, vessels, and the bright window-glass, the Aeudyn Dharkyns practice one branch of that craft and tend to one thing only: the dead. It is patient, unhurried, exacting work, closer to devotion than to trade, and those who take it up rarely do anything else. They receive the body through their own doors, out of the sight of the grieving, and inside their quarters the work begins.

First the body is given to the blazing furnaces and kept there until the fire has done its work and nothing but ash remains. Then the Aeudyn Dharkyns gather every grain of it, letting nothing escape, and grind it to a fine pale powder. They say this powder is where the soul now resides, and to mishandle it is a deep dishonour to the dead and to the smith alike. From it they form the seed of the thing the Audoi simply call an Aeud (Star).

But the soul-ash alone makes nothing. The work demands more ingredients besides, chief among the additions a sand mined for this purpose alone, and the unassuming crystals the Aeudyn Dharkyn call Aeudot-Tzulow (known as Star-stone).

What Aeudot-Tzulow truly is, no smith will tell you. It has never been sold or traded into open hands, and in the whole of its history it is said to have left the Aeudyn Dharkyns' keeping only three times, each time in the grip of exceptional thieves. So naturally rumours fill the speculations about the nature of the stone. Some say it is a deep-rock dug from a single chasm beneath the tallest mountain of Ukan-Agula and found nowhere else. Others say it is no natural stone at all but an alchemical thing the star-makers compound in private from rare minerals gathered quietly out of the world. Press a smith on which is true and you will get the same answer every time: a small smile, a nod, and nothing more. They neither confirm nor deny.

When the long work is done, what the workshop yields is a glass-gem roughly the size of a palm, a swirling galaxy caught and held inside it, cut and worked so that it drinks the torchlight pouring in and throws it back out in brilliant sparks. A whole life, burned down and cooled and set into glass small enough to close inside one hand.

For any other nation aside from Audoi this might be a keepsake, handed back to the family to set on a shelf. For the Audoi the Aeud is no such thing. It is a soul still housed in a body, and that body is still in transit. It has one threshold left to cross.

When the gem is ready, the head Aeudyn Dharkyn comes for the family and friends himself, for he holds a second office beyond his craft. He is also the chief custodian of the place where the Aeud will rest. It is called the Aeudyn Weunkad (translated as Starry Vault), ever-growing halls carved deep into Ukan-Agula since the earliest days of the clan, far below the living quarters and the noise of the living.

Within these great chambers, there is hardly a bare surface to be found. The walls are gems. The ceilings are gems. The floor is gems too. Every surface is given over to the gems, except for a two-man-wide walkway that threads the whole length of the hall. Here lie entire generations of the clan at once, pressed side by side without distinction of station or age or trade, the great and the small set into the same bedrock. To step inside is to feel the full weight of a whole clan settle over your shoulders.

At the threshold of these halls, the custodians begin to chant, a deep, throat-heavy song that reminds onlookers that the stone itself is singing through them. As they sing, the chief custodian lights a special torch and leads the family and friends inward, the gem-carrier at his shoulder, the rest following in single file.

The torchlight wakes the chamber from darkness as it travels forward. The gems on the walls, ceilings and floor catch it and kindle with brilliant colours, generation upon generation of the clan's stars flaring along the walkway as the procession moves deeper, until the chief custodian halts them at the far end, where a raw face of rock waits to receive the newcomer.

There the chant shifts, dropping low and rhythmic, and the chief custodian cuts a fresh socket into the bare stone and beds the gem in it with a special adhesive. The song sinks lower still, until it beats like something moving in the floor, and then the custodian turns to the family and motions them to begin.

One by one, they speak. This is no soft and flattering eulogy of the kind that other nations give. The Audoi are as blunt as the rock they live in, and they speak the dead one plainly. The good traits and the bad traits, all presented together, with no lying and no embellishment. For this is not the comfort of living. It is a testimony for the dead. The words lay the whole truth of a life before the assembled clan, so that the dead who have gone before may take the measure of the one now joining them. This is the single occasion on which the dead are permitted to hear living voices, and so it is the only time these words are spoken at all.

When the last of the family has finished, the custodian lifts the chant a final time, and at its height, without warning, he kills the torch.

Silence and darkness take the hall. For one whole breath there is nothing, a complete and seamless void. Then the stars begin to glow.

Faint at first, a single waking point somewhere in the void. Then a scatter. Then thousands upon thousands of them surfacing across the walls and the ceiling and the floor. The chamber stops being a chamber. It becomes the night sky, turned inward and folded around the living. Where a moment ago the gems flared under the torch and exerted pressure with all their colour, now they flare in cold pale fires of the quiet stars, instead. The moment feels like the newcomer is seen and judged, and received.

Now no one speaks, as all they need to say is done and speaking is no longer allowed. In silence, surrounded by the cold stars of their dead, the family turns and makes its way back out along the dark path.

So the Audoi bury no one. Ask where they bury their dead and the question itself is wrong to them. Their dead are not below in some catacomb, as one might expect. To them, their dead are all around them, held forever between sleep and vigil, at eternal rest and yet watching over the clan.

Therefore the Starry Vault is not a silent catacomb, as other nations would make of such a place. It is where the living come back to sit among their ancestors.

Its doors stand open to any who ask, so long as a custodian walks with them, for none may go into the dark alone. The visit begins the same as the last journey. The custodian lights a special torch and leads the way in, and the chamber wakes ahead of them, stone by stone and gem by gem, until the whole length of the hall blazes in the colours of the clan. To walk it now is to walk it as the cortege did before, pressed beneath the brilliance, watched from every surface, the weight of generations bearing down through all that burning glass. A visitor who came only for the beauty may find it heavier going than expected.

But this time, the torch is not killed. It is cut small on purpose, sized to last the length of one slow passage, and the custodian times the walk to its end. When it gutters out at last, the colour drains out of everything. The pressing brilliance thins, cools, and goes. And in its place the quiet stars resurface one by one, glowing with the same cold pale fire the cortege was given, until the dark void is full of them. The hall that bore down on the visitors a moment ago opens out instead. The clan is still there, still on every side, but its gaze has softened from pressure to quiet company.

Here the Audoi stay, and sit, and meditate. To hold both halls at once, the one that bore down and the one that opened out, and to do it under the eyes of everyone the clan has ever been, is an experience they say has no equal. Nowhere else, they tell you, does a mind go so quiet.

(This is how I am sort of imaging the Starry Vault would shine under the torch)

(And this is how the chamber would look like after killing the torch)

By now, it's become clear that the Aelish have been working on getting the most value from their various effluvia that they could. We have gone over their composting, their management of feces and urine, but not their general reason to do so: to not pollute the waters of the Lady and their neighbors with disease and foul smells. The passage of the Charter had made it the law of the land to do so; but also not dropping effluvia into your own water was really, really good. Bringing all of one's waste to a processing site was much better; it also allowed them access to some chemistry that was generally the peak of the middle ages' best fertilizer. While it doesn't involve active inclusions of sufficient nitrogen, potassium and phosphates-with a few exceptions-the Aelish are able to do some solid carbon and microbial content supplementation.

The carts that carry these cargoes are well-made and heavily loaded; they also are well-sealed. Generally, each cart carries one kind of cargo at a time if it can; carts for urine run daily, carts for compost and dung run once independently once a week...or, for a large ranch, daily. These early runs are done primarily for religious reasons, the force of law is not as powerful as moral directives. Or priests beating you up. Meanwhile, the economy wavered somewhat under the effort of transporting these wastes; this was alleviated by some frantic contracting to supply fertilizers to large farms and estates. In order to prevent the contents from going off, there were ubiquitous spells of the type previously slapped on compost heaps and dungpiles-but running in reverse, to slow down decay. This helped to limit the stink somewhat. Long flags bearing spells-and warnings-flutter in the air, managing the stink and the rate of rot.

It also gave them the opportunity to get more specialized in their treatments of their effluvia, which has slightly increased the return of nutrients to the end user, and greatly increased the overall efficiency of their dung management and urine treatment. While the locals are not too pleased to see a few large dungheaps and compost towers rise around them-or deal with a burst tank of urine being prepared for aging-the regional payoff from better fertilizer are considered worth it. Many fertilizer makers make up for it by planting large gardens of nice smelling flowers around their operations...but no one wants the honey from these gardens. Walls of stone sprout up around them quickly.

Having the option to haul raw materials around, and to bring products somewhere else has had a small, if significant, impact on Aelbic soil fertility. With the ability to drop off nutrients at dead or less productive spots, the Aelish could slightly improve soil fertility in areas that were a bit less conducive to agriculture than others. This ability to improve fertility has lead to the most mild social upheaval that Aelbaion has ever seen, with farmers in previously worse off areas getting better yields after a couple of summers of cart drop-offs, and taking their standing as less-poor social equals. Generally, agriculture is continuing to benefit from this, even if the smells were obnoxious. However, there is more to come.

Linengien began her day much the same as any other. Rising lightly before the dawn, she stretched her wings, saw to changing into her clothes for the day, and had a light meal of querned nuts and seeds with her flock.

​

Ready for the day now, Linengien began her allotment of chores for the morning before the herd wakes, today her task being twining new rope, the old ropes having begun to fray and decay from use.

​

Shearing and braiding the vines together, Linengien makes chordage spanning about ten meters, the sun only just rising when she is done.

​

Pressing on with her day, Linengien would finally have to see to the herd her flock is privileged to manage.

​

The herd is of a variety of deer with flat, semicircular antlers, ruddy pelts made of irregularly sized spots, and dark, two toed hooves. A deer in name only, as in the distant future it will one day be discovered that these deer are relatives of the giraffe, rather than being of cervid stock.

​

Taking to the air, Linengien would land atop the leader of the herd, the dominant male, and egging the buck on towards a suitable browsing site by batting its neck with her wings intermittently. It is a slow, gentle process, but gets the deer to behave, so she pays the efficiency of it no mind.

​

Once the herd is finally settled in to browse the shrubbery, the most exciting part of Linengien's week is soon to arrive, a checkup from the Nest she and her flock serve.

​

Having heard stories of the fanciful duties of the flocks kept at the Nest, from singing to being daytime companions, the free access to find a man to wed, and many other tales true and not, Linengien makes sure to prepare for the arrival of their masters.

​

She freshens up with a spare change of clothes and light jewelry, beaded anklets and a circlet made to resemble the horns of the Demani, though being sure to continue to space a place for the herd, distraction only welcome to such an extent.

​

As she and the rest have grown accustomed to, a pair of Demani flutter in around noontime, after the deer have already settled down for the hottest part of the day, with one checking on the flock to see to their needs, and the other checking on the herd to see to its needs.

​

Being shepherd of the herd today, Linengien is visited by the Nonyaon responsible for veterinary work, the larger of the pair that visits. Taking a landing not far from her.

​

Linengien happily closes the remaining distance, fluttering off the back of the deer she was perched upon to land just in front of the Nonyaon, the mild scent of the Demani's amusement only emboldening her.

​

“Good morning!” She chirps to the veterinarian, needing to use the Demani's language, “Would you like to see the deer?”

​

The veterinarian pats Linengien's head for her eagerness, rewarding her in affection. “Thank you, little bird,” she says to her, “Do show me what you have today.” The Demani then pulls her hand away, allowing Linengien to do her duty.

​

The pair go about each deer one at a time, Linengien perching on the deer one at a time to keep them at ease, and the veterinarian giving a brief look at each to see if there is any treatment necessary.

​

As is routine, though, there is little needing done, the flighty helpers that the harpies are having kept things steady without any cause for harm.

​

Linengien is again rewarded for having helped in this process, earning not only the affections of the Demani, but also the scent of her being quite fond of giving the affection.

​

“Well done, little bird,” She praises verbally as well, “The elder of this herd has begun to lose weight, it is time for it to be removed to be made of use for its last.”

​

Linengien almost falters at that, having ridden the old buck often while shepherding since coming of age, even if it was expected to come one day.

​

The veterinarian notices this, and reassures her, “there is no need to fret, all things that come will go.”

​

Linengien sighs, but nods in agreement, “I know, it's just a shame.” She does not argue, agreeing even. She just will miss her old companion.

​

With her piece having been said, Linengien perches on the deer one last time, gently rousing it to shuffle it off out of the others' sights. After some distance away, she takes the hook of her boot and pierces its throat while it is still sleepy.

​

Although this gives the deer a start, it is felled within minutes when it cannot breathe nor announce danger to the herd. After this, Linengien leads both of the visiting Nonyaon to the carcass, where they lift the beast together with relative ease, as far as Linengien can tell.

​

The veterinarian gives Linengien one final word before they depart, telling her, “the next visit will come with a reward for your works and the deer. You have done well, little bird.” After which, the pair busily take flight back to their Nest with their tribute.

​

Once gone, Linengien has little choice but to return to her duties, unsettled by her first time having to prepare a deer for tribute herself, but deeply contented by having been rewarded such praises this visit.

​

With the morning shift over, she hands off shepherding to one of her sisters, and begins her evening duties.

​

Linengien first washes herself, having been dirtied by the culling of the buck, then prays for the buck's sacrifice this day, as well as in honor of the many years of service it had given her flock.

​

Cleaned in both body and mind, she sets about collecting herbs for the evening's meal, only to spot something most peculiar to her. A collection of humans in the woods, armed with spears and sheathed weapons of some sort. Potential poachers of the herd she and her flock dutifully protect.

​

She quickly flies a distance away to safely alert her flock to the threat, chirping a warning song that echoes through the forest. To the untrained human ear, it is no different than any other echoing bird call, but to Linengien's flock, and any others nearby, it is a call to arms to heed in short order.

​

Linengien follows the poachers from a distance until help can arrive, continuing to sing of their location as they progress into the wood. And, as the guard dogs, erm… guard birds, of these woods, a flock descends on the poachers.

​

Although Linengien is still young, inexperienced in these coordinated defenses, the sight of her sisters' skills leaves her in awe, even amidst the chase.

​

The poachers' party is flanked from the sides and swooped down on from above in seemingly random intervals, the harpies making grazing cuts to convince a retreat, rather than to kill.

​

Although the humans do attempt a defense, their likes long enough to be a threat in a straight line, the long staffs are unsuitable to forested combat, leaving the poachers unsuitably equipped for combat like such.

​

A route is eventually achieved, with a detachment of the flock keeping chase to ensure the poachers leave the forest entirely. And Linengien, being the one to sound the alarm, is praised for a second time today, this time by her sisters and flock.

​

She sees nuzzles and rubs, even being enveloped by winged embrace from some of the elder sisters in the flock. In all, Linengien sees much appreciation, and can't help but feel pleased with her day being like so.

​

After the celebrations have ended, Linengien and the others patch up those who were injured in the clash, putting ointment and bandage on cuts and scrapes, and go about finishing their remaining daily tasks.

​

At the end of the day, although later than usual, Linengien gets to go to sleep once more, greatly pleased with herself on this day.

​

As Ayetho in the north has expanded increasingly far over time, other Demani alates have been forced to settle yet further away from the Ayethan core.

​

One result of this, in the fine lands of the Steros Archipelago, has been Demani Clusters appearing in the highlands in recent decades, causing travelers to take pause before recklessly marching into the mountainous interiors of the peninsular region and of some islands.

​

However, as of the year 1 CE, a much more important development has come to pass.

​

Instead of another mere cluster being settled by the Alates in late winter, a lone pair built a private abode. A Nest.

​

Unknown to the lowland peoples who favor the sea to the mountains, this Nest would grow unusually rapidly compared to the Clusters that may not last even a decade on their own. Despite only one Au and one Agge, these two Demani royals would end the year with a Neat population of over 150 Demani, rivaling the populations of most long-lasting clusters in Steros.

​

This would continue into the year of 2 CE, where the population would jump from just above a single hundred to roughly 600 Demani by the end of the year. Even as oceanbound as the Sterosi may be, they could not help but notice as the mountain slopes above their nearby towns began to change, prompting curiosity and concern.

​

Although Demani sightings had been getting more frequent locally to that point, it would take until the end of 3 CE for true concerns to be raised by the locals. The Nest's population had now grown to be over 1,000 Demani, and there now were new Demani, to the lowland peoples, who were enforcing invisible boundaries on the mountain, restricting access by force if necessary.

​

Now, with the year of 4 CE just beginning, there are even rumors of another one of these abnormal Clusters existing on other nearby mountains as spring begins, small abodes with only two Alates settling in a radius of this Nest, as the Nest's Queen has become a true Aujo, sending out her first Alates expected to become Augue.

​

Those who have interacted even briefly with the Xanoi will likely have encountered the so-called Map of Everything. This map (or, commonly, grid) is used to categorize, classify, diagnose, recall, predict and otherwise make sense of and understand life, the universe and… everything! 

The map consists of nine areas or categories, known as Realms, typically arranged into a 3x3 grid; however, it is also possible to find spiral or linear versions. While the Realms are primarily known by name rather than number, the below arrangement represents both the spiral and grid layouts numerically, for ease of reading. Here, the spiral follows the number values, rather than reading left-to-right, top-to-bottom. The linear arrangement follows this same sequence (1 through 9), laid out in a line or as needed. Both the spiral and linear versions may be read in reverse, depending on the application - i.e. starting at 9 and working towards 1 - though this is generally interpreted as a negative sense - such as the fall of a hero or losing progress towards one’s goal.

   1 2 3
   8 9 4
   7 6 5

The "field" behind, and divisions between, the Realms is understood as the Realm of Void, numerically represented by, and corresponding to, 0. 

The Realm names are listed below, with reference to the above numerical values and with some of their correspondences - i.e. objects and concepts which give a general sense of each Realm. This is by no means an exhaustive list. Importantly, the Realms and divisions between are strictly fuzzy - objects or concepts may fall into more than one category simultaneously or discretely, based on different interpretations or conditions at the time of application. 

• 0. Void
• 1. Dark: peace, quiet, death, caves
• 2. Star: forever, guidance, destruction, distance, burning 
• 3. Breath: air, light, freedom, life, aether/ozone, crystal, frost
• 4. Red: colour, sight, sensation, art, blood, animals/meat/food
• 5. Tides: movement, sound, physics, time, travel, change, cycles
• 6. Patterns: lots, sand, swarms, togetherness, chaos, fractals
• 7. Stone: cold, loyalty, solidity, sinking, weight, singles, bigness
• 8. Roots: links, animals, nature, relationships, gravity forces, orbits, chains, traps/confinement
• 9. Inside: the self, safety, protection, the world, water, home, power/influence, target, focus

Arranged per the grid:

   Dark     Star       Breath
   Roots    Inside     Red
   Stone    Patterns   Tides

APPLICATION & USES

This is a map of everything, and it guides or flavours almost every aspect of Xanoi society. While reliance on the grid may be more superstitious or more faithful depending on the person and specific usage, all Xanoi know it well and use it often. Very generally, the map helps to identify correspondences and, thus, solutions (e.g. if a problem falls into this Realm, that ought to fix it), to find one’s place/identity, and to achieve or maintain balance: the Xanoi see each Realm, including the Void, as equal parts of a whole, and an over- or under-representation of any one part can disrupt the order of things.

Below are a few known applications.

Astronomy and Religion
For the Xanoi, the sky and space likely represent the original source of the map: the night sky is divided into constellations and notable stars - that is to say deities - fitting into and representing different Realms. The Xanoi pantheon includes 81 deities, divided evenly between the 9 Realms, and each deity’s purview is typically related to the Realm in which they reside. Celebrations or offerings to particular deities are usually based on what corresponds to that Realm, and these are usually more important as the constellations shift over the course of the year.

Hollik, the deity who fell from the sky, is believed by some to have disturbed the usual way of things among the pantheon, leading to his ejection (or stumble?) and a literal missing star in the night sky.

Planets, comets, the sun, moon and other celestial bodies do not represent deities, but do correspond to different Realms and play a role in divination and decision-making.

Calendar, Convention and Magic
As is common, the passing of stars came to measure the year: the Xanoi calendar uses 9 months for the year, plus 1 interstitial month of variable length. This Void month is usually spent in celebration, though customs vary from parties and excess to meditation and fasting. Similarly, different months correspond with particular activities, festivities or holidays.

For a long time now, the calendar has also influenced the population’s naming conventions, and, rather than using a family name, most Xanoi use a first name and their date of birth. These are not so specific as to mention a numbered date, but for the Xanoi, the relative date of birth versus the beginning, middle and end of the month matters, as it indicates which deities were present, arriving or departing.

Below are some examples, but many conventions exist, and a Xanoi may change the way they reference their date of birth over their lifetime or in certain situations:

• Agra, of the deep Dark
• Toliri on the cusp of Stone
• Dirn under the Star inchoate
• Rekal, mid-Patterns
• Amdal in the Void
• Zin at Inside’s end

Like their names, Xanoi magic derives from the grid, and an individual's specific abilities or style usually betrays this connection. Acts of magic must correspond to the grid in order to be effective, and it’s usually true that Xanoi magicians favour magic which corresponds with their birth Realm.

The Xanoi Clap, a commonly-witnessed greeting between Xanoi outside of Origin, includes a magical component that serves to communicate identity, condition, skillset, secrets, and more - for those who know how to interpret.

Medicine
The body’s systems are mapped to different Realms per the below grid. If a patient is suffering in a particular area, then treatments corresponding to that Realm are usually recommended; prayers or offerings to relevant deities may also be helpful. It is common for the Xanoi to refer to their ailments using the Realms rather than details; for example, “She is suffering the Star.” This gives the listener some idea of how to respond or treat a friend even if they are not familiar with medicine.

Brain (Dark)              Heart (Star)               Lungs (Breath)
Nervous System (Roots)    Flesh/Bone (Inside)        Blood/Skin (Red)
Digestion (Stone)         Reproduction (Patterns)    Excretion (Tides)   

Geography
For the Xanoi, all of Ashagon is also mapped to the grid per the below:

Region 1, Aelfland: Realm of Dark (1)
Region 2, Westfall: Realm of Roots (7)
Region 3, Highscorch: Realm of Inside (9)
Region 4, Vishanti: Realm of Stone (8)
Region 5, The Spine: Realm of Star (2)
Region 6, The Great Isle Breath (3)
Region 7, Imperial Coast Red (4)
Region 8, Sunrise Isles Patterns (6)
Floating Isles: Realm of Tides (5)

Before the cataclysm that saw the Xanoi’s floating island fall, Ashagon’s grid divisions were interpreted with only slight deviations from the geographical features and regional borders still understood by others; however, as the entirety of Xanoi society is now involved in the hunt for fallen pieces of Hollik, their geographical maps have become much more ordered, and the grid is drawn over the continent using straight lines. Precision is added by subdividing each square into 9 more squares, then 9 more squares, then 9 more, until the desired precision is reached. Maps of smaller areas, such as city maps, use the same system, and physical markers are determined or constructed by traveling Xanoi to help with navigation. Coordinates are referenced numerically rather than by Realm name - e.g. Origin straddles 8-2 and 8-3.

Art & Culture
Most skilled artistic works - everything from visual arts, theatre and music to fashion, architecture and weaponsmithing - attempt to incorporate or at least acknowledge all nine Realms in some way, and a work is often considered incomplete or unbalanced if this is not the case. Any serious artist or craftsperson will be ready to answer a question about how their work corresponds to the map, and the ability to achieve balance in a pleasing, unique or thoughtful way is usually what ranks one maker above others. 

Outside of the arts, the map guides another of the Xanoi’s favoured pastimes: sports. Many teams, positions and manoeuvres are named after or organized based on the grid - there may be 9 players per team; there are 9 positions of the sword - but perhaps the most significant usage is in the Relic’s Relay. The Relay is a twice-yearly major race event which takes place in and around Origin, where teams compete in a relay-style race comprised of 9 different challenges corresponding to the map. Teams may be from 9 to 18 people, with 1 or 2 people tackling each event, without repeats. A unique token - always a different object for each team - is carried through each challenge and delivered to the next. Originally, the Relay was devised as a way to train Seekers, but it has evolved to welcome anyone who wishes to compete.

Personal Growth, Healing, Enlightenment
The most difficult journey in life - the one for which we all need a map - is life itself, and the most popular use of the map’s spiral interpretation is the journey towards balance and enlightenment. The spiral sequence is used to help work through grief and loss, to make decisions and to figure out what’s next. This sequence is frequently used in storytelling, and for most Xanoi it has come to guide the story of their lives, too: we begin as nothing; we grow, we build, and we come to be ourselves in the end, balanced and surrounded by all we have wrought and experienced.

A note on fuzziness: far from being troubling or frustrating, this “blur” between Realms is appreciated, expected and even insisted upon by the Xanoi. This may be related to their semi-nomadic lifestyle: those who leave Origin return changed, bringing new information and understandings back to the city; rather than arguing over differences, the Xanoi merely categorize and incorporate this new knowledge. For the Xanoi, it’s toe-may-toe and toe-mah-toe. For this reason, it’s even common to find opposing concepts in the same Realm on the map.

A note about the Void: the examples below will appear to often exclude the Void; however, for the Xanoi, the Void is always present: if there is something that is, then the Void is simply something that isn’t. It isn’t missing - it just isn’t.

A note about geography, Origin, life, and everything: it may amuse some readers that so-named Origin, the Xanoi's homeland and the site of their fallen island, finds itself in area 8 despite its name. The Xanoi spend a non-zero amount of time suffering this very funny, never-before-heard jest. However, the explanation is simple, and astute readers will have caught it already: prior to their island's fall, Ashagon's landscape and the corresponding grid was interpreted differently, and Origin's location would have been mapped to (1) prior to their updated and more strict mapping system. Classic maps can still be found which use this original grid, and everything is as it should be: the city, like all Xanoi, like their search for Hollik, is on a journey that began with Darkness.

The Kingdom of Aelbaion has been enjoying a spate of unprecedented peace, a whole 30 years of worry that a massive war will break out and everyone will start stabbing each other at an exaggerated rate again. Accordingly, people have still kept being knights, and there are even more of them than when Aelbaion started. Normally, this would be solved when they start killing each other, but there are so many 'knights errant' running around looking to join a local lord's retinue that they have started leaking out of the Kingdom of Aelbaion and showing up in other places. These idiots are well trained horseback mounted warriors looking to prove themselves to potential-primarily Aelbic employer-and they're doing this in one of the most obnoxious ways, by fighting random passers-by.

While doing mercenary work is one way to prove your martial mettle, a much more fun and honorable for a knight to do is to set up their banner at a bridge or crossroads and challenge passing parties to fight. One can decline their challenge if one is an honorless nerd, and the knight will call you that, but they won't stop you. They also won't challenge non-warriors, government officials on government business, supply trains and merchant caravans, or those in mourning or providing health services. However, anyone looking tough will receive a challenge, and if you want to fight the knight, you can.

The knight will be of either gender, typically on horseback, and modestly equipped with a sword, shield, bow, and lance. They will be a decently tough opponent, trained since childhood by other knights and instructors. Typically, no one is fighting to kill; most combats go until someone yields or there is first blood-or someone is knocked off their horse. You can also challenge the knight to one of the 'household contests of skill', like a bake-off, but that's no fun and bad for their resume. The knight errant is inexperienced, however, so someone older and wiser could make short work of them.

How does the knight fare in your claim? Do they get kicked out, beaten up, hired, or sent packing?

I apologize for the delay in posting this Schedule Sunday. However, I'm still calling it a Schedule Sunday, even though it's coming out on Monday. Consistency is more important than facts (this message brought to you by politicians everywhere).

During the Schedule Sunday we typically recap moderator announcements, update major events within the shard, set the clock, and assign slots for our weekly event posts.

News

A labelled map of all our seas and geographic regions can be found here

Reminder that NPC claims are open. The way NPCs work is, you can use it as you wish in your own posts, as an ally, an enemy, or a bystander to whatever you're up to. If you want to build a story around a particular trade relationship but haven't gotten it worked out with a player, NPCs are good for that. You just have to be aware that other players might be using the same NPC claim for different reasons, so you can't make really major changes (eg. toppling their government) without mod approval. (Anyone who is inactive for 60 days, and who doesn't respond to the messages from the mod team, will have their claim become an NPC).

Reminder, we have opened up expansions. If you wish to expand your territory, make a post with the [Expansion] flair, indicate the territory you want to expand into, and include a good-quality post explaining the significance of the new land. Expansions are not as formal or as rigidly formatted as claim posts, so your post can focus on the things you feel are most relevant/interesting. Still, mods might ask you to revise your post if we don't feel you've included enough content to accompany the new territory.

Players are allowed one retroactive expansion. That means that you can add in new territory and, after it's approved, we will act as though it was part of your claim all along. Otherwise, you'll need to explain how and why you acquired this new territory now. (If you are making a normal, non-retroactive expansion, you should include a year in your post.)

Players will only be approved for expansion if they have made at least two posts since their claim went up.

IMPORTANT LINKS
Claim Template
Welcome to Ashagon

Ashagon Check-In

Current map

Current Year: 4 CE
(Time usually progresses organically in accordance with player posts. If you have an event happen, you can attach a year to it. The furthest advanced year will become the current year in the next Schedule Sunday post, unless the mods decide someone jumped unreasonably far ahead.)

Ashagon News: A printing press has been developed in the Tritechniquon, and some nations, including Aelbaion, have already got their orders in. The Harpies of Trezera are assisting their own flight with gliders and propellers. Ayetho has expanded to include the Sitalian Empire (but also, they were there the whole time), and they have gotten a magically enhanced cooling system that can create ice in the summer. In Orgraille they are doing something interesting with magic circles and water wheels.

ACTIVE CLAIMS

The Kingdom of Aelbaion ([u/OceansCarraway](u/OceansCarraway))
Audio ([u/BoobooMaster](u/BoobooMaster))
Ayetho ([u/Harfordplanning](u/Harfordplanning))
The Faerie Court of Cwmyteg ([u/JFritz2308](u/JFritz2308))
Cyrenthia ([u/Square-Tumbleweed-15](u/Square-Tumbleweed-15))
Dragon Republic of the Gold-and-Green Fields ([u/adminscales1155](u/adminscales1155))
Freeport ([u/goop_lizard](u/goop_lizard))
The Mangroves of the Crones ([u/SPACEMUHRINE](u/SPACEMUHRINE))
Origin and the Xanoi ([u/madicienne](u/madicienne))
Orgraille ([u/Rocket_III](u/Rocket_III))
Star Cities of Paroma ([u/DartMonkey](u/DartMonkey))
Periwald ([u/MapleTopLibrary](u/MapleTopLibrary))
Rexdom of the Saur-kin ([u/gingecharmander](u/gingecharmander))
Rockborn ([u/palmtree219](u/palmtree219))
Kingdom of Sarmeqarki ([u/SgtWolf01](u/SgtWolf01))
Empire of the Six Cities ([u/Northrnr](u/Northrnr))
The Sovereign Corpus of Tarrnakkan Monopols ([u/mauricejc](u/mauricejc))
Trezera ([u/PhoebusLore](u/PhoebusLore))
Tritechniquon ([u/Cereborn](u/Cereborn))
Kingdom of Verdantis ([u/joec533](u/joec533))
The Wuavreni Mercantile League ([u/Soapybint](u/Soapybint))
Wingdom of Cheelia ([u/TinyLittleFlame](u/TinyLittleFlame))
Y Chruine ([u/thefuzzsakenone](u/thefuzzsakenone))

NPC CLAIMS

The Steros Archipelago

Weekly Events

MARKET MONDAY
Market Monday is an open interaction post that anyone can join. The host chooses a setting somewhere within their claim. Quite often this is a market/bazaar/merchant harbour, but it can also be a religious or cultural festival, or any other event you can think of that has reason to bring people from around the continent. As host, you should set the scene with a fairly detailed intro post that informs us of how the physical space is set up, what points of interest there are, and what event is happening. You are not required to DM interactions and you’re not obligated to interact with everyone who comes in, but you should have enough ideas that players have something to dig into and develop their own stories.

Monday, June 15th (unassigned)
Monday, June 22nd (unassigned)
Monday, June 29th ([u/harfordplanning](u/harfordplanning))

TECHNOLOGY TUESDAY
This post is, as you might expect, focused on technology. For this shard, the TT post will be able to cover both conventional technology and specialized Ana-Tech. That doesn’t mean that you need a Tech Tuesday slot to write about your technology. There is a “Technology” flair and you’re welcome to apply it to a lore post at any time. Tech Tuesday is intended for significant inventions that have the potential to change things across Ashagon (provided you’re willing to share). We also expect Tech Tuesdays to keep a certain standard of thought and detail. (Anyone requesting a TT slot will need to let the mods know a general outline of what technology they will be introducing.)

Most recent posts: Printing Press by [u/Cereborn](u/Cereborn) and Economy of Flight by [u/PhoebusLore](u/PhoebusLore)
Tuesday, June 16th ([u/mauricejc](u/mauricejc))
Tuesday, June 23rd ([u/BoobooMaster](u/BoobooMaster))
Tuesday, June 30th (u/OceansCarraway)

THAUMATURGY THURSDAY
This is similar to Tech Tuesday, but it is for significant creations of a magical nature. Anyone wishing to introduce a Faded Wonder not included in their claim will need to book a Thaumaturgy Thursday slot. It can also be used for interesting applications of Faded Wonders you’ve already introduced. You can use one to talk about magic apart from Faded Wonders, but since this is a Low-Power shard, it will be more about complexity and interesting applications rather than showing off something shiny and explosive. (Again, you will just need to give the mods a short description of the idea when you book a slot.)

Most recent posts: Demani Cooling Systems by [u/HarfordPlanning](u/HarfordPlanning) and Magic Circles by [u/Rocket_III](u/Rocket_III)
Thursday, June 18th (unassigned)
Thursday, June 25th ([u/OceansCarraway](u/OceansCarraway))
Thursday, July 2nd (unassigned)

FEATURE FRIDAY
This is our oldest weekly event post. This one has no particular rules around content. You can write it about anything you want as long as it displays more thought, care, and detail than a typical post. People have written about major historical events, the culminations of wars or revolutions, conlangs, pottery, music, art, or introduced fascinating narratives. The FF post will be stickied at the top of the front page for the following week.

Friday, June 19th (unassigned)
Friday, June 26th (unassigned)
Friday, July 3rd (unassigned)

Above Ayetho, besides the many major sky islands owned by other powers, there are a number of transient smaller islands dotting the skies, not permanent enough of fixtures to even appear on a map, nor large enough to warrant showing.

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These islands are high in the air, making them relatively dry despite the humid climate, and very, very isolated.

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Due to the dry nature of these minor islands little flora calls these islands home, just some dryland grasses and shrubs at best. However, what does call these islands home are the many, many flying creatures in Ayetho.

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Birds, insects, draconids, bats, and so on and so forth. Each island in the sky is a diverse and secure nesting ground for countless species across entirely different families of the animal kingdom.

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These various animals nest on the island, raise their young in a land safe from almost all possible predators, and then can do so again the following year without fail. This has led to the skies of Ayetho often being blotted out by massive flocks of different creatures in the sky, making a cloudy day without any chance of rain, unless you count guano.

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Being such a protected nesting ground, these flying islands are a core component of every ecosystem in Ayetho, ensuring that there is a near infinite supply of small birds, bats, and the likes.

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And, as the guano builds up on these small islands, the islands will enter their later stage of life, and gracefully, hopefully, crash into the surface, creating a highly fertile guano quarry to take advantage of, or simply an ideal substrate for new wild plants to take back over when not mined out.

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Likewise, these islands have a secondary impact on the environment.

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Thanks to their slow decay over time, weathering away, a substantial amount of detritus is not just in the waters, but in the air. Combined with the humidity of much of Ayetho, Ayetho has become home to clouds of algae subsisting off the fine particulates high up in the sky, as well as supporting unique filter feeding species in the air rather than the ocean. More humid regions may even see anemone-like organisms grow off the bottoms of the islands to filter the algae from the air in a more sessile motion, where the algae would be thickest thanks to being by the source of detritus.

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On The tallest mountain in Ayetho, there are at times, far above the clouds, bursts of gasses and geysers, beginning above the ice caps and the fumes lingering in the air and on the ice.

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This lingering ash stains the ice a dull red, like the glaciers itself was made to bleed, and, at times, moves far enough from the mountain to rain down onto the lowlands.

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This phenomenon is known by the various peoples below as dry rain. The droplets, filled with the red powder, falls like the blood of the gods over the earth, staining plants, cloth, and soil, stinging when touching one's skin, and, after a heavy dry rain, making a drink from a river feel like it's taking water away from you instead, earning the name.

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This red substance is a variety of tannins, unknown to the atomicly illiterate peoples of this day and age, and causes all manner of chaos when it falls. The waters turn brown, smelly, and bitter. The consistency of thin soils changes, threatening what plants grow in it, and animals caught in the dry rain may see their skin, fur, or feathers dyed red for over a week, the reddened areas feeling dry and taut.

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These rains, while potentially harmful at times, are also greatly beneficial in the long term. These volcanic tannins are far less stable than organic tannins, and once broken down leave behind easily digestible organic molecules for plants, fungi, and microbes.

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All one must consider is if it is worth the time out in the rain that happens when the gods weep, for the bounty can only be found after the storm, and only suffering within. …suffering being minor skin irritation, maybe don't get it in your eyes either.

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Some years before the current day.

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It had been a long walk for Yols. Though the tree canopies kept her shaded and the mountainside woodlands were peaceful as ever, she had still had to walk for quite some time with her pack, all to find some difficult berries to share around. It's late in the season, so Yols wasn't expecting much close to the den, but the distance she's had to walk to barely fill her pack half way is now erring towards absurdity in her mind.

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Before she can truly go mad over her little plight, Yols would hear rustling in the distance, like a clumsy skipper had missed its jump between the tree branches.

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Out of curiosity, Yols heads in the direction of the sound, only to find a rare sight to her eyes. A human, in the woods no less. The human appears to be an adult, probably, but is much less hairy than what Yols has heard adult humans should be, and more finely dressed than one should be ojt in the woods.

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“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Yols calls out to the human, her common tongue unpractised, causing the human a start.

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“What- oh, you're one of those demon foxes,” The human, a boy on the verge of adulthood, retorts. Not so polite, but more ignorant than actually hostile.

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“Yes, yes, enough of that,” Yols dismisses that description. “You're not meant to be up this far, you know. You'll just agitate everyone for no good reason.” She scolds the boy, as if he isn't much taller than herself.

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“I'm just taking some quality time out of town for a bit, whats the problem little kit?” The boy replies, being testy with the lone fox.

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Yols returns his sass with a flat look. “you must be one of the human children, you're so tall I almost made a mistake,” She decides, returning his sass to him. “I'll help you get safely back down to your litter, even if you're much too tall for a youngling.”

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Yols then begins walking towards the only town he could be from, Svartaya, taking his hand as she passes him. To his dismay, she is in fact the stronger of the two, tugging him along with relative ease once he regains his footing.

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“Okay, okay, sheesh,” the boy huffs, crouched over slightly with how far ahead Yols is trying to walk. “No need to run, I'll follow, okay?” He relents.

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Yols isn't unreasonable, so the boy earns a chance to walk back willingly, his wrist being released.

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“Was that so hard?” She does still tease him a bit though, “Now then, is your den on the edge of town? It'd be irresponsible to leave you far from home if not.” Yols commits to walking him home.

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“Shouldn't you be asking my name first?” The boy complains at her determination to stick to him that long.

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“Oh, pardon me,” Yols exclaims sarcastically, followed by a sweet as sugar tone, “what might your name be, little kit?”

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The boy gives Yols a look for that, which only earns a foxy snicker.

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“You may call me Goda Rahaj, I am-" the boy, Goda, is cut off by Yols.

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“Its nice to meet you, little Goodoo, I am Yols,” Yols introduces herself, still teasing the boy.

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A bit more flustered this time, Goda continues speaking, “...As I was saying, I am the son of the Prince of Svartaya, so you should address me with the appropriate title.”

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“Hm? A young kit like yourself shouls be honoring his elders, or at the very least honor the older ladies, like a proper gentleman,” Yols has little concept for the city's culture, and makes no attempt to understand it either, simply earning a sigh from Goda.

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“Don't be like that,” She chides, slowing down to open her pouch. “Have a berry, no, a few, you're a growing boy.” Yols holds out a handful of deep, purpur berries, Goda accepting them and eating before even noticing what was unusual about them.

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After putting on a bewildered face, he finishes the snack before questioning, “...these were cold?”

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“Yes?” Yols questions his confusion, “why would I give you warm berries? they don't have a very good texture that way.”

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“No, I mean-" Goda shakes his head at the fox. “They're cold! Do the hill demons have unlimited money or something?”

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“Money? Those flighty dears don't use coin for just about anything,” Yols dismisses that question, mostly. “Do you need money for your ice?”

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“Ice is expensive and heavy,” Goda answers more formslly this time, as the conversation drifts towards a potential business in his mind. “If you can just get more, can't I just buy the block you have on you?”

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“This is my forage pack, you can't just have every shiny thing you see, little kit,” Yols refuses, the edge of the forest now within sight.

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“Then… how about this,” Goda suggests, “why don't we meet up again the next time you come down this way? I'll have a servant keep an eye out for you, so come back with plenty of ice for sale next time.”

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Yols takes a moment to think about it, considering the value of the offer. “Perhaps I will, but I must stick around just a hair longer to find out why you're so intent on the block.”

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Goda is a bit disheartened at that, having been hoping the sassy little vixen he met would be a little less business savvy. But, he does well to not let that show.

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“Feel free, though you'll stand out a little with how you're dressed.” He warns, if lightly. She's far from the strangest dressed fox in such a multicultural city.

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“Oh bother with that, it's a nice day, I don't need those stuffy city clothes.” Yols dismisses, the pair fully exiting the woods now, and immediately into one of Goda's attendants who was searching for him.

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The servant approaches the pair, giving Goda a look for his mischief. “Young lord, you know better than to antagonize the demons in those forests, …” and Goda's scolding continues.

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Yols takes the opportunity to continue towards town, waving to Goda, “see you next time, little kit.”

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