The Story of CivilizationBoard

Ampendiluian Gargesiite (amperslandia)
The Spectacle II: The Aweinspiring Ones
(7015 FP) - religionpost

As'smir'rah (or "Asmirah") had looked around, 'temp in-hand and senses very wary - holding herself on-edge and alert for any blotters nearby. She was thinking that, they'd still be trying to linger around in O'olaria, especially in the battlegrounds of some Ampendiluian States - but also that, the Syndicate and other groups were still restless. There was a changing of the guard. The newer members of the Ampendiluian forces had to take-up the older positions whilst the veterans refocused elsewhere and the Marshal focused on expanding the Syndicate.

Dia'karra and Ampsmergi aswell-as most criminals quasi-aligned, were still in O'olarian areas and very watchful of the blotters, or what was considered their proxies - but what is said now, is that the separatists et al are still blotters as aiding a blotter isn't really "proxy" but becoming another appendage of the blot. All of those slavers and fools were appendages of evil, tools of Sinister - they all had the same master and the same anti-Amperslandish tendency. They all had no mind of their own.

The teilugs even then, and several others of Asperatu and Uinnslandia - they seemed to be both resistent to the Syndicate and to Iyo, but the thing was - the Syndicate was the only force protectant against Iyo and her sinister underlings. The Farnsites were opposing Iyo, and well - still opposing her. If anything, all the teilugs and the other groups, should be working with the Syndicate. But nonetheless, there still were conflicts between all of those groups despite a unified enemy. Same with different houses of Monarchism or different tables of Republican, they all had a unified and shared enemy in Iyo but yet didn't "use logic" and drop their past-hatred for their present-hatred.

If you need help fighting a new enemy, who can help you but your old enemy?

But again, the blot in their contrarianism do not see the lack-of-logic they're possessing. And, that, even though alot of groups also hated Iyo as much as many Farnsites have - they still had to be wiped out because their tribalism was too strong. All of those groups lacked the ability to be coherent and unite -

UNITE,

against a common enemy.

Iyo is fundamentally-opposed to humanity and all sensibility, yet they all serve her like mindless-drones and husks? That is because, they ARE mindless. They all, always were. They couldn't get past their nonsensical "hatred" of the Ampendiluians' ancestor for the sake of fighting a foe the Ampendiluians themselves were facing.

All-in-all, all should be One. All peoples should unite. And really, the tables have flipped. Yes, it was that the Farnsites were chaotic - but they are not stupid to not see the benefit of unity aswell. Unity is not the same as revoking individuality and traits that make one oneself; this has been said countless times, that point has been argued-to-death but yet there are still people who do not use their brains to think.

Being temporarily-aligned with ones' enemy doesn't make them the same as their enemy.

And it is, that, how are the Farnsites "illogical" or whatever, when they'd used monarchists against other monarchists? When they aligned with many groups against other folk that they'd hated? So, apparently enough they weren't "foolish" because they were smart enough to put-away past differences and work together as one solid mass.

That is the thing about hordes, is "working together as one solid mass," ergo "the Combine" that is a byword for Ampasmeria. Ampasmeria has earned the ability to be called the Combine, as she has and always was many different peoples and ideas fighting as one. The ideology et al may have had slight differences - but it was the thought that'd counted.

And "the thought" of, that there's a common evil in the blot. There's a foe targetting all peoples and not understanding Farnsie to be a vast region. There's a foe deadnaming Ampendilu as their ancestor and bringing up Yeritzi when the Yeritzi are now just a composite of the Ampendiluian People - when Ampendilu and Farnsie have united and unified countless times and fought countless times for Oneness.

And yet, there is no "oneness" in the blot. The evil empire that is "the league," has always been arrogantly-faking strength-in-ones. They never were one united mass. They had faked and pretended, during the times of Amperslandia and Asmendia. During the times of there being many Amperslandish Peoplegroups but also many Farnsite Peoples.

But times change, which is what the blot didn't realize.

The blot couldn't get with the times. And only really because they cannot fathom the idea of change. This is why they go after ghosts and nonexistent "enemies" when the true enemy is the false-queen Iyo, or the cultists threatening Dunnism aswell.

They are so hypocritical they are blinded by the fact that Dunnism wasn't merely "under threat by Farnsites," that there was another "enemy," an enemy not native to either part of the Rekindling?

Put the past emotions aside and acquire new ones. The past must die. And the fact that the blot stubbornly refuses to kill their own past, makes them in the words of the dervish "outmoded."

They have outmoded themselves because they have been stuck-in-the-past. This happens when cultures and peoples do not get with the times. This happens when elders and tribesmen cling onto their familial groupings instead of uniting further down the line.

But that was never the weakness of the Farnsites, because Farnsites instinctually wanted to be one people. They've always looked for Unity and Reunification. Always looked for a new home and for more allies. That all, was no novelty. But the thing is, is that the blot just couldn't catch on to the plot of Ampasmeria.

They have no understanding of "their enemy" yet had said myriads of times that Ampasmerians "are illogical" or that their ancestors lacked the ability to conglomerate as one voice, or - countless other fallacies.

The Amperslandish Peoplegroups of yore didn't have the weaknesses of infighting and petty-squabbling, because they've always sought out Unity. They all, have sought out Sisterhood. Sorority.

And the same Sorority was offered in the past, by Ampendilu, but Iyo had the stupid-inhuman-nature to refuse.

But, no matter, as it is always said: the 'Amps or 'Farns don't have the problem of embracing others and uniting as, they gladly would unite and make new friends. They gladly would move on. But yet, you have inhumans on the otherside of the Rekindling who tyrannize their own, who do not realize this basic fact.

That, was the same weakness of the Mokrani - that the Mokrani too were clans and tribes infighting instead of throwing away their tribalism and uniting as one centremass. That is the thing - but atleast the Mokrani have learned, hence their reformatting-of-gov't into a Commonwealth. Hence them doing like the Amperslandish and shedding their former-title of "Confederate." Now, there are two former-confederacies. One, a union-of-unions and the other, a commonwealth or partnership as the Mokrani hadn't forgotten the Letderani.

Atleast the Mokrani do not forget their adjacent-peoples. And, too, the 'Amps hadn't forgotten about piracy. They hadn't forgotten the Syndicate.

Just that, the evil empire forgot - or threw away - their status of "the league" into the Rekindling yet tried to get angry over the Ampasmerians preserving Arina and Uinnslandish Culture. As said many a time: atleast the Uinnslandish and Asperati of yore HAD a culture. But the Blot doesn't. And they didn't. They try throwing away and destroying the past instead of archiving it, writing it down.

The thing about the Pendiluians, was their penchant for learning and archiving things - which was inherited all through Ampendilu. The Ampendiluians didn't throw away their grand ancestor Pendilu yet the blot discarded Asperatu and Uinnslandia. The blot discarded Arina and many other things. But yet, the blot didn't want the Ampendiluians to pick up the fallen gauntlet - which was nonsensical.

The fallen gauntlet of the east was picked up by Ampasmeria, because the Ampasmerians archive and hold on to things - they have had tradition of looting and preserving. But the blot? What identity they have? They have no identity but bitterness. The slavocracy and all, are just tools of bitterness and hate that they didn't throw away - but discarding Arinas' status as a free city amongst other things - again, that is foolish.

Tools of Iyo, that they should throw away and discard into the ocean to Sedna - but they don't.

Why hang onto a noose around your neck? Why not discard the thing actively-harming your health and wellbeing? Iyo has ruined their way but yet, there hasn't been protest against "her will." Iyo threw away countless lives in a pointless shootingwar - no protest, no hubbub.

But if that foolishness was tried in Snowlandia, there would've been a riot every week. If that foolishness was attempted, the Debatehall would be a sphere composed of cadavers instead of a place with clever folk.

It is asinine. But such is also asinine as the idea of people stuck in the past, so stuck in the past they cannot fathom Tomorrow yet try to throwaway the works of the libertines recklessly. And that, was why blotters' hands were chopped off. That, was why the mob killed so many. Because Ampendilu cannot morph into the blot. Ampendilu cannot "See eye to eye" with liches and frostspawn who want to destroy her ways.

Ampasmeria cannot throw away her Jissikism or her Alisandrism or any other moral and tenet of hers. So, the militiamen like Asmirah - they too cannot throw away their Way and let blotters have their accord. What'd happen, what would be what always happens in the icelands: Snowlandics tending to Alisandrism. The Venst building and towering. People like Jiafei, painting and making music.

And so, art cannot be abolished or given away or killed or any of that.

Art, just like all things, have to be protected and hid close-to-vest. Just like the Ampasmerians had protected the cultures of old, so too will they protect Alisandrism. So too will people protect O'olaria and places like Ao'cai'ocliah from frostspawn. So too, all places once-thought to be "old and lost." All ancestral places and areas important, will be protected - especially as what Asmirah was doing now, by aiding in preservationist efforts of art and architecture.

The fools couldn't f*cking getaway with stealing priceless artpieces or "destroying them," that'd be their heads! If one "person" mistreats a painting, their life is forfeit! That, is the way.

That, is the way of Saint Alisandria and the Alisandrists. That is the way of the Ampurple.

Just like tyrants murdered for their "right" to tyrannize, the Alisandrists will do the same for their art. If the Unfaithful and all those fake groups can have their way, supposedly - the Sisterland can too. There is no "catch-22," it has to be both ways. It cannot be one singular way of living or thinking.

Scales and Rulers, II
Development effort post

Mehmed and Mädare avoided joint public appearances. Jinal could think of a few reasons for the evident secrecy of their alliance. The reaction of one Bey Kamir of Yäcdücä was likely the foremost among them. The western bey had the support of the local nobility, the ones who persevered and maintained their wealth and influence in spite of the best efforts of the Imperial Throne. Spice trade financed their ambitions and let them cling on to their power.

Now, the westerners wanted one of their own on the throne. They would never risk open rebellion against the Sultan and the Sultanate, but Kamir could galvanize the embers of their ambitions. The promise of the ultimate power, or else close proximity to it, led Jinal to becoming the Grand Vizier. The same force could topple the current balance of power and install Kamir as the sovereign.

Mehmed and Mädare had taken precautions. Several sheets of paper laid on Jinal's desk, awaiting his seal and signature. They were lists of names that would see blood flowing through the streets of the capital and the Sultanate as a whole once more.

“And who do you expect to carry out these…” Jinal glanced at the papers. “Executions?”

Jinal had no need to state the obvious, such as him having no power to authorize any purges. Only the courts could convict a subject of the Imperial Throne. They had the paperwork to dress up their crime as a legal measure in defense of the state, but it hardly mattered. If they lost, no paperwork would save any one of them from retribution.

“I have already hired some Biscayyan mercenaries and Rigelian assassins,” Mehmed replied, taking a sip of wine. “They’ll handle the less justifiable cases.”

“The Imperial Guard and the Royal Guard should suffice for the rest,” Mädare added. “With your support, getting crowned would be trivial.”

“You have to marry first,” Jinal pointed out. Their triumvirate needed some security and guarantees of loyalty from all three of them.

“Already done, the priests have pronounced us man and wife the day before yesterday,” Mehmed nodded. “We’ll hold the public ceremony during the coronation.”

“Very well,” Jinal sighed and pushed the prescription lists towards the married couple. “Your signatures and seals first.”

He was old, but his faculties remained with him. A document, an order such as this could be used against him if it had just his own authorization. With the three of them all signing off on it, the entire triumvirate would be bound by the same blood.

Mehmed and Mädare understood that as well and put up no struggle. They signed the order and left the imprints of their seals in wax. Jinal did the same in silence. He wondered how the future generations would remember them in a hundred years, but the reminiscing mood passed as quickly as it had come. The preservation of the Sultanate, Jinal’s own legacy, trumped the petty concerns for his honor. The future generations would remember not the pain and suffering of their ancestors, but the glory in the pages of the paid chronicles and newspapers.

As luck would have it, Jinal had the entire Academy of Medila owing him a debt. Medilan Insight would put up some struggle, but they would toe the line. The threat of proscriptions was far more dangerous than the papers themselves.

“The capital would be secure after we carry out the purge, and I will handle the east,” Mädare spoke. She took a sip of coffee and placed it back on the delicate porcelain plate on the table. “We still have to deal with Bey Kamir and my husband’s brother.”

“Jähap is a meathead,” Mehmed scoffed. “He’ll do as he’s bid.”

“Are you sure he’ll follow your bidding?” Mädare gave her husband a pointed look. “Blunt tools require delicate handling.”

Blunt tools required a lot of brute force as opposed to care, but Jinal understood the point. Mehmed’s younger brother commanded a navy squadron, and many in the navy held him in high esteem. If Jähap felt so inclined, he could easily start a civil war all by himself. From what Jinal had heard of the man, he commanded the sympathy and loyalty of the entire Haççä province despite having no official position in its government. If Kamir and Jähap joined forces, Medila would be at risk of a sacking. Mehmed’s younger brother would have to be handled with care.

Mehmed, however, was a bank clerk and only sneered at the mention of his brother’s importance. Jinal knew Mehmed’s father, the younger son of the late Sultan Gölcüm. The man was Sultan Jale’s uncle and the previous Director of the Bank of Medila. That fool of a man, also named Mehmed, suffered from delusions of grandeur and always treated his position as a chore and a personal insult.

Jinal had always tried to stay as far away as he could from that family. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to its sons.

“I’ll tell him to keep doing whatever he’s up to now,” Mehmed scoffed. “Some drills or brutish training, no doubt. My brother cares little for politics as long as he can do whatever he can play at being a great warrior.”

“What about being a great conqueror?” Jinal proposed.

Mehmed scowled.

“Perhaps we should send him to the colonies?” Mädare proposed. Jinal looked at the woman with interest, prompting her to speak. “We can give him a high position and reward him for loyal service… Hazrö has been requesting some reinforcements, if memory serves.”

The Läyas colonies had been asking for more soldiers and ships of late. Jinal remained skeptical of their ventures, but he could spare some men. Sending away a potentially troublesome man could benefit everyone, and if Jähap carved out a kingdom there — all the better. Ilyas-cä would likely object to having a royal person in his sandbox, but the man would have to deal. The interests of the capital superseded those of the colonies. Hazrö was profitable, but far from integral to the Sultanate at large.

“And with the hostile elements of the navy out of the way, we can focus on securing the loyalty of the army,” Jinal concluded. “I need not say that threatening persecution will only set them against us, and the Treasury has no coin for lavish gifts.”

“I will handle the monetary issues,” Mehmed nodded. “The banks will finance a one-time extra pay for all our loyal soldiers.”

“And officers,” Jinal frowned. “The common soldiery might be happy, but they would betray you quite easily if all their officers did.”

“What do you propose?” Mehmed asked. “I doubt a simple pay raise would satisfy them.”

“Leave that for the lower ranks. The upper echelons will want titles, land, or promotions,” Jinal replied. “We can’t satisfy all of them, of course, but the key generals should present no problems. While we are at it, we might as well include the admirals. They will feel insulted if we offer them no incentive to remain loyal.”

“Won’t Kamir offer the same?” Mehmed frowned. “I would in his place.”

“He has no legitimacy,” Jinal allowed himself a snort. He and his present interlocutors were planning a coup, they were past courtly decorum.

Legitimacy… That was the reason for Jinal’s inclusion in the triumvirate. The two co-Sultans could have pulled everything they had been discussing on their own, but it would have been seen as a rebellion against the Sultanate. Jinal’s seal of approval made everything broadly acceptable if only technically legal.

“Will it matter?” Mehmed asked.

“One of the generals might side with Kamir out of sheer opportunism, but if Bey Kamir is even remotely clever, he will go to ground and try political sabotage before he resorts to open rebellion,” Jinal explained.

“You speak as if his rebellion is inevitable, Jinal-cä,” Mädare noted.

“Because it is,” Jinal agreed. “Kamir has a claim to the throne, no matter how tenuous, and he has the western nobles both financing him and whispering in his ear.”

“I thought my great-grandfather had crippled them forever,” Mehmed mused, referring to Sultan Mehmed the Conqueror. “But I suppose it was too much to expect them to fade away quietly.”

“They will try to reclaim all of their lost privileges,” Mädare realized.

Jinal gave her a silent nod. Western nobles chafed at all the restrictions introduced by the Imperial Throne. It hardly mattered that the Throne merely uplifted the average subjects and stripped away some of the nobles’ privileges. The entitled westerners always considered special treatment to be their birthright.

“We will need to deprive them of any means of rebelling against us in the future,” Mädare decided and looked at Jinal. “Can we do it?”

“Short of banning spice trade?” Jinal gave her a thin smile. “No, we cannot.”

“Perhaps I should let the banks audit their finances,” Mehmed mused. “I haven’t seen a single noble capable of keeping perfect financial records.”

“That will galvanize them against us, but we could decimate the western nobility after we crush their rebellion,” Jinal decided.

The Long Road to the End XXIX
The Second Northern Skirmish: The Second Battle of Ao’cai’ocliah
War post

259 CE

Just a few short weeks ago, the first half of the Third Legion came to Ao’cai’ocliah and garrisoned its immediate area. Its head, Legionary Commander Oftedahl, took to lodging in the comfortable interior of the fortress as had his higher commanders, while the surrounding area and towns were requisitioned and encamped within.

“So,” Oftedahl said as he took a sip from his cup, “as we left Sa’ampscalia, I was left wondering just what military these Amperslanders thought they could field against ours. These are no overseen and regulated forces as what would be expected of the modern age we find ourselves in. They fight as if they were from a thousand years ago, and they have no idea of anything but impromptu and personal fighting.” He sipped from his cup and shook his head. “They do not even comprehend formations and their usage. My success derived so readily from utilizing several, even ones as old as the Polarean shield wall.”

Ressad Anneni coughed into a cloth and threw his hand to the side thereafter. “In taking Ao’cai’ocliah, I found that there is no dress code among the Amperslander greater than individuality. Disastrously so, might I add, as not one thought to wear armor. I imagine it ties to their belief that form far outweighs function. But…” He tapped his head with a smile. “I must be quiet about much of it until it has been put to paper.”

“And I intended to write my own treatise as well.”

Anneni extended a hand. “Let us co-write, then? Share the work and experience, and share the earnings as well.”

As Oftedahl extended his hand, a horn blowing diverted their attention. Anneni rose, coughing into his cloth, and peering through the window to see a small group of less than two thousand outside of the walls. They seemed to be mostly artillerymen, having been dragging along pieces that looked thrown-together. A little over half a thousand were regular infantrymen by the looks of it, though as Anneni had remarked, they had no uniform or dress code to speak of.

“Even a city militia has more consistency to their apparel than this.” Oftedahl shook his head and grabbed his officer’s blade from by his chair. “Do these reprobates not understand odds? There are over ten thousand men in and around this fortress to their less than two thousand.”

Anneni followed him as he left his quarters and descended down the stairways of the fort to the level about parallel with the ramparts. “It was exactly like this fifty years ago. We’re fighting the illiterate.”

“Half of my troops are illiterate and they can tell you all about how these odds don’t favor the Amperslanders.” Oftedahl exited onto the ramparts and peered over the edge towards several regiments under his command. “You lot!” he called out to them, “do you see those feeble-minded bastards a kilometer out?” He pointed the tip of his sword in the Amperslanders’ direction. “Prepare to make an attack! The garrison will support you from the rear!”

“Where are the cavalry?”

“I sent them out scouting. Of course, they should have returned if they had seen that formation coming, or rather should have intercepted while returning.” He peered over the ramparts to a small group of arquebusiers hurrying among themselves. “I have nearly a thousand keen shots in the 5th Regiment Arquebusier. They will soften the Ampers up before the Infanteries and Archers begin their own attack.”

Anneni turned his head to cough into his cloth while Oftedahl spoke. “I see.”

“You are going to witness a slaughter.”

“That’s what this entire conflict is.”

“On a grander scale, yes, but this will be a personal bloodbath. They march to their deaths like loyal subjects, yet decry the institutions that should make someone so loyal in another realm.”

Anneni coughed into his cloth. “It doesn’t matter to me. They’re going to find themselves in the dirt one way or another; may as well be us that puts them in it.”

A few gunshots drew their attention to the Amper formation. Those musket balls missed, but were followed by several dozens of volleys and even a few premature arrows. Several dozen Amperslanders were felled, but they continued their march and loud, incessant calls anyway. Two infantry regiments stepped up as the arquebusiers reloaded and met the Ampers in the snow.

Oftedahl scoffed and turned away. “I came onto this continent looking to prove my mettle. Now, I’ve merely slammed my military education against the worst military ever conceivable. It’s left far too sour a taste in my mouth.”

“As to be expected.” Anneni held the cloth tight in his hand, awaiting the cough that would alleviate the pressure building in his throat. “My father put me to the books as a boy. Besides fighting for the Mapueceni family during the Restoration, this is my only military conflict.”

“A damn shame, that is.” Oftedahl looked over his shoulder at the “battle.” “I see that they’ve rounded up a couple.”

“We have too many to keep track of. The amount of money the slavers are giving us is becoming lesser and lesser as we hand them off.”

Oftedahl shrugged. “As to be expected.”