Lands of Red and Gold

I had some issues with the opening, however after that I rolled with this chapter intensely, kudos, I really loved the exchange between the two generals, the planning and larger strategies at play, the terse attitudes, and I adored the language and phrasing involved, the idea makes a great deal of sense as well. Also genius idea with a disease hitting the invaders, I should have thought of that XD
Glad you liked most of it.

With the opening, I thought that this one made it even clearer that what was being described was how later Europeans would try to explain what happened during Nuyts' invasion, not who was truly responsible. What is being described here is no worse - and, admittedly, no better - than European practices during the comparable period. The Thirty Years' War was not a nice period (sack of Magdeburg, ravaging of Saxony, the general practice of "living off the land", etc) and the European troops here are largely veterans of the alternate version of that war, and are applying the same practices familiar in their own lands.
 
Glad you liked most of it.

With the opening, I thought that this one made it even clearer that what was being described was how later Europeans would try to explain what happened during Nuyts' invasion, not who was truly responsible. What is being described here is no worse - and, admittedly, no better - than European practices during the comparable period. The Thirty Years' War was not a nice period (sack of Magdeburg, ravaging of Saxony, the general practice of "living off the land", etc) and the European troops here are largely veterans of the alternate version of that war, and are applying the same practices familiar in their own lands.
Sorry that definitely makes sense, maybe it is just how I am reading it that is is hard to make that connection as, yeah it feels totally OOC for the people who tooled up to the chant of "Lets go and brutalize and enslave" to care one wit about the people they came to do this to.
 
Sorry that definitely makes sense, maybe it is just how I am reading it that is is hard to make that connection as, yeah it feels totally OOC for the people who tooled up to the chant of "Lets go and brutalize and enslave" to care one wit about the people they came to do this to.
I'd have thought that was a clear positive sign. They came to do whatever they wanted to people who they deemed as, essentially, pagan savages who were unworthy of treating well. If they later try to justify what happened - massacres and brutalisation - surely that suggests that something has changed so that it's not deemed acceptable to dismiss the Yadji as pagan savages? In other words, the Yadji are now deemed to be worthy of better treatment, and so the Europeans felt that they needed to find an excuse so that they didn't get the blame for it.
 
I'd have thought that was a clear positive sign. They came to do whatever they wanted to people who they deemed as, essentially, pagan savages who were unworthy of treating well. If they later try to justify what happened - massacres and brutalisation - surely that suggests that something has changed so that it's not deemed acceptable to dismiss the Yadji as pagan savages? In other words, the Yadji are now deemed to be worthy of better treatment, and so the Europeans felt that they needed to find an excuse so that they didn't get the blame for it.

...it's the Plirite faith, isn't it?

Some Plirite priest went straight to the Vatican to debate with the Pope about religion, I bet. And it might have been a public, no holds barred debate. Enough to sway many people into thinking Plirism is a religion that came up from foreigners who are seriously looking for God but had not received the Good News of Salvation by Jesus Christ.
 
I'd have thought that was a clear positive sign. They came to do whatever they wanted to people who they deemed as, essentially, pagan savages who were unworthy of treating well. If they later try to justify what happened - massacres and brutalisation - surely that suggests that something has changed so that it's not deemed acceptable to dismiss the Yadji as pagan savages? In other words, the Yadji are now deemed to be worthy of better treatment, and so the Europeans felt that they needed to find an excuse so that they didn't get the blame for it.
I see, very insightful and well laid out, I think the reason I didn't quite get it, is because the stories framing sort of makes me feel like I am watching in the moment over a later account with a narrator whose circumstances would lend themselves to BSing, if that makes sense?
 
...it's the Plirite faith, isn't it?

Some Plirite priest went straight to the Vatican to debate with the Pope about religion, I bet. And it might have been a public, no holds barred debate. Enough to sway many people into thinking Plirism is a religion that came up from foreigners who are seriously looking for God but had not received the Good News of Salvation by Jesus Christ.
Certainly at some point there will be open debates between Plirism and Christianity. How long that will take to happen is a harder question to answer, though. Western Christianity at this point is still sorting through the consequences of the Protestant Reformation and slowly coming to the idea that it might be possible to tolerate different strands of Christianity co-existing. This is the era of the Thirty Years' War, the French wars of religion, and so forth. They're not quite at the point where they're prepared to admit that non-Christians might even be worth listening to. That time will come, but not quite yet.

What's happened here is that something has happened within the lifetime of the invaders of the Yadji which meant that they felt the need to claim that the idea for massacring prisoners and generally mistreating the local populace was inspired by the "heathens" rather than being at least as much their own idea. They have made this claim, and that claim was (eventually) incorporated into a fictional account of the events. But given the average age of the mercenaries, this would need to be a claim which they put forward in at least the next fifty years, probably within the next twenty to thirty, for it to have been heard and circulated.

I see, very insightful and well laid out, I think the reason I didn't quite get it, is because the stories framing sort of makes me feel like I am watching in the moment over a later account with a narrator whose circumstances would lend themselves to BSing, if that makes sense?
That does make sense. I'd just reiterate that I make a lot of use of unreliable narrators, and any "fictional" works used in this timeline are almost certainly guaranteed to be wrong in one way or another. This one is probably more biased than most, but any account here should also be considered as to whether there's some bias/sloppy research/misunderstanding etc in how it's written.
 
Lands of Red and Gold #43: Drumming the Pods
Lands of Red and Gold #43: Drumming the Pods

"I stood on the royal road to Kirunmara
And saw a pillar of fire, even as a wheel
Of flame descending from the abyss [heavens].
It spun from west to east, the sun turned backward
Consuming land, tree and beast alike in fury untamed
As abyss and earth prepared for the Last Battle."
- Yadji verse describing the coming of the Nedlandj [Dutch] under Pieter Nuyts, and comparing it to their religion's view of the apocalypse. Attributed to Prince Gunya Yadji, just before the battle of Kirunmara (1638)

--

Water falling from the abyss; the steady dripping that fed the Land and its waterworks, but made for bad listening.

Usually, Bidwadjari, senior commander of the armies of Prince Gunya Yadji, had little use for rain. It mattered to farmers, but its infrequent visits made battle manoeuvres far more difficult, and interfered with transportation anywhere off the royal roads.

This evening, though, with the news from the west, he welcomed the rain. It would delay the invaders. The seemingly invincible Raw Men. The pink men who had chained the thunder of the abyss into weapons.

At first, Bidwadjari had thought that these Nedlandj were just trouble-makers, foreign mercenaries who had been come to support the Yadilli in rebellion – and claim some of the gold of the Land. His prince had thought the same.

Now, he knew better. These Nedlandj and their leader One True Egg [1] were the true drivers. They brought their thunder and their beasts with them, and they stirred up revolution. Whether for gold or for some other reason, they brought war to the Land. A new and terrible form of war, about which he had to learn.

"You tell me not enough of how the battle fared," Bidwadjari said, to the handful of men he had gathered to him.

They were all survivors of the second great battle with the Nedlandj. It had gone no better than the first. Thunder, fire, giant beasts, unknown manoeuvres, defeat, and massacre of the survivors. The Nedlandj were emboldened, and had found more allies. The Yadilli, the Mutjing and now the Tiwarang [2] joined them. For plunder, surely, with the Tiwarang, not the Plirite bleating which had lured the earlier allies.

"I must know," Bidwadjari added. It could not be due to incompetent commanders. Not twice. Illalong was a good warmaster, and he had certainly led more men than the Nedlandj and their rebel allies, but he had found only defeat.

"Their soldiers know no fear," one said.

"They bring thunder and hard iron where they march," another said.

"Not their character. Speak of how they deployed in battle," Bidwadjari said.

"In a wall of smoke," one said. Another added, "Riding giant dogs down one flank, and a wall of hard iron along the other."

Piecing the details together took too long. There were too few survivors, and it sounded as if they had seen little of the battle anyway. The Nedlandj on their strange big dogs could run too fast, and cut down too many as they fled. These survivors had only escaped because there were so few Nedlandj on dogs and so many men fleeing in panic that not all of them could be caught.

Still, after much going back and forth, Bidwadjari began to understand something of the battle. The Nedlandj had formed a line of battle with a core of their own men on a low hill. Their raw soldiers wore hard iron and wielded weapons which belched smoke and spit thunderbolts that could kill at a hundred paces or more. On the hilltop, they had strange carts [3] that used chained thunder to hurl balls of solid iron fast enough to dismember men.

On the flat ground, they used their Mutjing and Yadilli allies to form a defensive line. That Plirite rabble were not soldiers to match proper Yadji warriors, but they were good enough that they did not break instantly. That let the Nedlandj use their iron-hurlers to hit the back Yadji ranks – and then their dog-riders to hit the flanks of the engaged soldiers, breaking them. Illalong had been ridden down somewhere in that mass of men, and most of the survivors were those who had been held in reserve, then fled.

As to what the Nedlandj had done after their victory... there, he did not need to hear from the survivors. His own scouts – those that had returned – had reported that the Nedlandj had turned off the royal road before Gurndjit [Portland, Victoria]. The rain would slow them down, there, but it made him wonder what they wanted.

The royal road was paved against the worst of weather, but following it would also mean that the Nedlandj had to capture or bypass town after fortified town. So did they fear the fortifications, did they manoeuvre to receive reinforcements from the Tiwarang, or were they just contemptuous enough of Yadji arms that they thought that a march straight on Kirunmara would bring them conquest?

"Did anyone hear tale of the parley before the battle?" he asked. If there was one, of course.

That produced another round of argument. No-one had witnessed the parley, but rumours about what was discussed had spread. The soldiers talked about how the Raw Men had admitted to being part of the Cleansing. That this time of blood and fire marked the first blow fought by the servants of the Lord of Night, as time marched to its end.

All meaningless speculation, as far as Bidwadjari could tell. None of the soldiers had heard, so they gossiped. He doubted that this involved the end of time. For all that Gunya Yadji had ordered priests killed for spreading rumours, for all that this was a time of strangers and strange weapons, he doubted that this marked anything supernatural. These Nedlandj had the feel of men to him, more alien than the Tjibarri or the folk of the Cider Isle, but men in search of plunder and conquest. That much, he understood.

He just wished he could think how to stop them.

--

Maurice Redman thought that he should have been more impressed by the Yadji royal palace.

The Yadji could build wonders. He had expected that from his first glimpses of the temple at Gurndjit. It had been confirmed by his journey to the royal city, with the endless dams, canals, lakes and swamps which the Yadji maintained for no good reason. Fish was a decent enough meal, if hardly worth so much effort, but it bespoke the Yadji construction talents. Even their royal road was an impressive highway: wide, well-paved, and well-maintained.

The Yadji ruler – Gunya, although no-one uttered that name in his presence – offered an impressive sight, too. Some sort of woollen tunic dyed into a bright pattern of blue and scarlet, with gold, silver and pearls decorating his chest, and a headband of gold decorated with brilliant feathers.

So why in the name of all that was good and holy did he rule from so plain a building?

A palace should have been larger, especially for a people so wealthy as the Yadji. It should have been filled with gold and ornamentation and all the other splendour which he had witnessed on a smaller scale in the temple in Gurndjit. It should not be a small place of largely plain stone, apart from a few tapestries [4] hung from the walls.

Why would the Yadji royal residence show such a lack of magnificence [5]?

Redman knew not to ask that question aloud, but he doubted anyone would have answered him anyway. This was supposed to be an audience with the Yadji emperor, but some old soldier in front of him just asked a lot of questions, while Gunya listened in the background.

The old soldier – nameless, like his ruler – wanted to know much about European weapons and tactics. He asked about horses, about steel, but most of all about gunpowder.

"What drives the thunder of your stringless bows?" the old soldier asked.

After some back and forth, Redman realised that he meant the gunpowder in muskets. "A black powder that burns," he said.

"You make thunder from fire?" the old soldier said, a sharp edge to his voice.

"From this special powder, yes," he answered. "It burns fast enough to push out objects. Small pellets in muskets, or large balls in cannon."

That produced an even longer exchange where Redman had to explain that muskets and cannon both fired solid objects.

After that, the old soldier said, "Where do you find this special powder?"

"It is not found, it is made," Redman said. He did not want to reveal much more. Knowledge like that should not be given away for nothing. It sounded as if selling guns and powder would be a major market with these Yadji, if the Dutch raiders could be driven off. In any case, he did not know the exact formula of gunpowder, only that it involved some mixture of brimstone, saltpetre and charcoal.

"How is it made?"

Inevitable question, Redman supposed. "I am not entirely sure. I know how to use muskets, not how to make powder."

The old soldier gave him a long stare. He had a most penetrating gaze, firm and full of suspicion.

Redman offered, "I know that it involves charcoal" – a word which needed further explanation – "but not what else is required."

The questions kept coming, but eventually the soldier accepted that Redman knew nothing useful. The questions moved on to more general military tactics, of which he knew less, but where he was more willing to answer.

The old soldier said, "Can spears be used to hold off... horses?"

Redman nodded, then remembered himself and changed it to a shake of his head. "They can, if used properly." Pike was not a word he knew how to say in the Islander language. "Only if their lines remain unbreached. If the horsemen break into the line, then spears do not work much."

"Or if cannon break our soldiers' lines apart," the old man said. "Or fire from a line of your muskets."

This soldier is no fool, Redman realised. Of course, this man commanded the side which was apparently winning the Yadji civil war. Perhaps he was much of the reason for that.

"How do your armies fight against foes with cannon, muskets and horses?" the old soldier asked.

"Mostly, by having cannons and muskets of our own," he said, which got him another sharp look. "I am not a soldier, so I do not know for certain, but I know that weight of numbers can account for much."

"Truth," the old soldier said. After a few moments, he added, "This black powder burns, you say? How does it fare in rain?"

"It will not burn if it is too wet," Redman said. "Fighting battles is much harder in damp conditions."

The old soldier smiled. "That gives me much to think about."

Only then did Gunya Yadji speak. "Your words have been heard, man of the Inglidj." He clapped his hands, and a servant stepped forward, carrying some form of cloth. "Give this to the masters of your Company to mark my gratitude."

The cloth was a long rectangle of white and gold background, with a dark bird woven into the centre. The bird looked like an eagle, he thought. When he took the cloth, Redman felt the weight, and he realised that the golden colour in the cloth came from woven gold thread. God preserve me!

He bowed his head. "I will give this to them, along with your words." Unless he could figure out a way to use this gift to escape on his own. No. Baffin would be back, and the Yadji ruler would be sure to ask what happened to his gift.

Gunya said, "I will not send you or your countrymen back to Gurndjit yet. For your safety, you must remain here in Kirunmara."

The old soldier said, "We have not heard that these rebels are on the royal road, but they may move quickly. Once these Nedlandj have been defeated, you can return to await your ships."

--

When the Inglidj soldier had departed, Gunya gestured for the other servants and soldiers to depart, too. Only Bidwadjari remained.

"Will his words help you prepare for the great battle?" he asked.

The old general said, "I will consider them. Fortune may favour us. Particularly if rain comes on the right day."

Gunya's lip curled. "The Neverborn has other things on his mind to organising that, I expect. Or so his priests would assure me. Those who still remain."

"Bailgu brought too many priests with him," Bidwadjari said. "Even if all of the others had fought their last battles, we would not be spared the bleating of these newcomers."

"Let them talk, for now," Gunya said. He risked much on this one gamble. A great battle here, if won, would end the civil war. Bailgu's position was already weakened, and a victory here would ensure that the other princes abandoned him. Even if Bidwadjari could not arrange for Bailgu to be among those who died in the battle.

Gunya added, "What the priests say will matter for naught if you can bring victory against these Raw Men."

Bidwadjari said, "Much I have to consider. Numbers may be the answer, but if your soldiers stand too close together, more will die from this black powder. If they stand further apart, fewer will die from this black powder, but they will not do well when they reach the Nedlandj lines if they are too far apart. If we attack them from the flanks, we risk having their horsemen grind us from front and rear."

Gunya said, "I would not complain if you deployed Bailgu's troops to the front line, in merit of their courage."

Bidwadjari said, "Alas, he has so little trust as it is. He would recognise it as a ploy to get them killed."

"Truth," Gunya said, although he hated to admit it. "But I am sure of one thing: there is no better commander in the Land than you. If you do not discern how to defeat these Nedlandj, none of us will."

--

[1] Pieter Nuyts, would-be Dutch conquistador. His name, to Junditmara speakers, sounds similar to the phrase "one true egg".

[2] The Tiwarang are a Gunnagalic people who live in the north-westernmost reaches of Yadji territory, around historical Naracoorte and Penola in South Australia.

[3] The Yadji have invented the wheel, although with no real beasts of burden larger than dogs, they do not have that many uses for it. "Cart" is the best approximation of a Yadji word which describes almost any wheeled vehicle; their most common forms are carts drawn by hand or by teams of dogs.

[4] What Redman thinks of as tapestries are not actually much like European tapestries, being made of linen rather than wool. They are also a sign of great wealth in Yadji culture; the effort required to create them means that only the most wealthy can afford to use them, and then only in the most valued locations. The Yadji tapestries here are actually more valued than most other forms of ornamentation.

[5] This is because Gunya chooses not to occupy the royal palace, but the House of the Dawn – the most sacred ground in Yadji religion, and usually only occupied to hold a vigil for a departed comrade. Gunya claims that he rules from here in honour of his departed cousin. This is a break with tradition, but one which he has so far got away with because of his claim that his cousin is not truly laid to rest until his successor has been named. Of course, no-one among the Yadji would bother explaining this to an outlander such as Redman.

--

Thoughts?
 
Nice work! It will be interesting to see if they manage to catch or lure the Dutch somewhere their advantages are lost.
 
That does make sense. I'd just reiterate that I make a lot of use of unreliable narrators, and any "fictional" works used in this timeline are almost certainly guaranteed to be wrong in one way or another. This one is probably more biased than most, but any account here should also be considered as to whether there's some bias/sloppy research/misunderstanding etc in how it's written.
I see, thanks again for the clarification, if its any solace, it shows just how skillful your writing is that I get so engrossed I forget its not an in the moment account.

I loved the opening, Bidwadjari is a wonderfully pragmatic soul, I loved his take and hoe the invaders "Have the feel of men bout them" based on their desire for gold and the like and the descriptions of the battles were easy and disturbing to picture.

The second scene was great, you can really see great intelligence on display from all side, and that gift sounds beautiful, loved how the rain was mentioned in one scene and then came back in again later, I have some thoughts to, hehehe XD

Really solid final scene, I loved this line:
"But I am sure of one thing: there is no better commander in the Land than you. If you do not discern how to defeat these Nedlandj, none of us will."
Its an excellent lead out and also feels like its both historically accurate but would be perfect for a movie.

Really cool chapter, I feel the wheels beginning to turn, or so I hope!
 
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Nice work! It will be interesting to see if they manage to catch or lure the Dutch somewhere their advantages are lost.
Things will come to a conclusion in the next chapter, which is the culmination of the Nuyts invasion arc. So either way everyone will find out soon. :D

I loved the opening, Bidwadjari is a wonderfully pragmatic soul, I loved his take and hoe the invaders "Have the feel of mean bout them" based on their desire for gold and the like and the descriptions of the battles were easy and disturbing to picture.
Bidwadjari is also one of my favourite characters to write from the perspective of. I don't have favourite characters in a strict sense of hoping they do well or poorly, but I do have favourite characters to write from the perspective of, because it's just fun to get inside their heads. Bidwadjari is one such. (Another is one of the characters who will be introduced in the next chapter).

Its an excellent lead out and also feels like its both historically accurate but would be perfect for a movie.

Really cool chapter, I feel the wheels beginning to turn, or so I hope!
Glad you liked it. And yes, things are coming to a conclusion soon. One chapter left to go in this arc, albeit a fair bit longer than the last couple of chapters have been.
 
Bidwadjari is also one of my favourite characters to write from the perspective of. I don't have favourite characters in a strict sense of hoping they do well or poorly, but I do have favourite characters to write from the perspective of, because it's just fun to get inside their heads. Bidwadjari is one such. (Another is one of the characters who will be introduced in the next chapter).

Glad you liked it. And yes, things are coming to a conclusion soon. One chapter left to go in this arc, albeit a fair bit longer than the last couple of chapters have been.
I can see why, they are very engaging and enjoyable!

Cool, I look forward to it with huge nervousness XD Good luck!
 
Lands of Red and Gold #44: Seeds of the Wealth-Trees
Lands of Red and Gold #44: Seeds of the Wealth-Trees

"Any weapon you hold at your death will still be in your grip when you step beyond the grave."
- Batjiri of Jurundit [Koroit, Victoria]

--

25 January 1638
Near Kirunmara [Terang, Victoria]
Durigal [Land of the Five Directions]

Evening drew near its end, with the first stars appearing in the fading light. Proof that even the too-long summer days in this land of upside-down seasons did not last forever. The moon had not yet risen, but it was drawing near to the three-quarter mark which their Yadilli and Mutjing allies insisted was a sacred time of danger balanced with opportunity.

Hans Scheer sat holding a cup of the sweet lemony tea which the Yadilli had given to him [1]. He would have preferred ale or wine, but these South-Landers knew nothing of those beverages, and he could not stomach their spiced ganyu [yam wine]. The lemony tea was an acceptable compromise.

Eight other soldiers sat nearby, clustered around the very small fire which they had made for light and to brew the tea. The ground had been carefully cleared around the fire to make sure that the flames did not spread. They had witnessed only one of the wildfires which came to this land in summer, but it was not an experience he would ever want to repeat.

Someone strode up to the fire, and Hans stiffened when he recognised Colonel Michel.

"Easy, boys," Michel said, holding up a hand. "No need for ceremony here. Just here to hear if you want to say anything before the morning."

"Everyone's ready, sir," Hans said. He still missed Johan and Ludwig, one dead of swamp rash after the first battle, and the other dead in the second, but everyone else kept their courage.

"Excellent," Michel answered. "It's time to give these pagan kuros another dose. We've beaten them twice already, but it seems that they don't learn their lessons easily."

"We'll teach them," Hans said. "No better teachers than musket, pike, cannon and cold steel."

The men laughed.

The colonel clapped him on the shoulder. "Too true. Rest well, men, and tomorrow we'll kill thousands more of these pagans."

He rose and strode off to the next fire.

Hans took another sip of the tea, and grinned to himself.


*

An assemblage of men, six hundred or so all told. Two banners worth of death warriors. Men who were dead in law, men who for one reason or another had taken the oath that could never be unsworn. Men whose faces were dyed white in a pattern which resembled a skull. Men whose ornamentation proclaimed them death warriors on the eve of a battle.

Batjiri of Jurundit stood among them, toward the front. He was one of the most senior death warriors, who had held to the oath for more than ten years. Much longer than he had expected, but then no man could second-guess fate.

Now, their prince addressed them for the first time in years. "My friends, I have erred," Bailgu Yadji said.

Cries of denial rose from the throats of the assembled death warriors. Batjiri's voice sounded loud among them.

Bailgu held up a hand. "Not in my choice of soldiers. I could have asked for none finer."

This time, the death warriors cheered.

"For so long I have held your banners in reserve, awaiting the time of a final battle when you would be called to fulfill your oaths. This much of my anticipation was true: the final battle would be fought."

Bailgu smiled. "My mistake was that I thought it would be against my cousin. That the final battle would be of prince against prince."

The prince held up both hands. "It is not so. The final battle comes, but this is not a war between Yadji. The Cleansing is at hand. Time marches toward its end. The final battle will be of Yadji against the allies of the Lord of Night. In tomorrow's battle, your deaths will prepare the way for the rise of the Neverborn."

Shouts of acclamation answered him.


--

26 January 1638
Near Kirunmara, Durigal

Darkness still hung over the encampment when Hans Scheer rose. Dawn must be a ways off – he had no clock to be sure – but they would need to be prepared to move at short notice.

Dressing could be done in the dark, fortunately. Pants, shirts, boots, belt, blood-red tabard – Nuyts's suggestion, to quickly tell their own side in the battlefield – and hat. The hat was perhaps what he valued most, save his musket itself. The sun in this land burned far too hot, especially in midsummer.

He had powder and musket ready where he had left them last night, but Hans did not move to pick them up yet. When it came time to move, that would be soon enough. This was his third battle on the soil of the South Land, and the eighth in his life, not counting minor skirmishes. He had learned the value of patience.

Raised voices carried to him, and he emerged from his tent. "What's happened?"

A sergeant stood outside, surrounded by several of Hans's campmates. "Water on the battlefield."

"Rain?" Hans asked, before realising how foolish that sounded. The ground here was still dry.

"The God-damned Yadji have released one of their dams. That flooded the ground we need to fight on."

"Those pig-faced eel-fuckers!" Hans paused a moment while he recovered his cool. "How bad is it?"

"Water's gone down, but it destroyed some of the powder we had in place for the cannon. Ground's still muddy, too, and it's ruined the trench we had ready to protect us."

"Christ. Does that change the battle plan?"

The sergeant shrugged. "Yes, but not sure how yet. Except that we need to be there first, in case the pagans try something clever. Grab your equipment; we'll be marching soon."


*

Night drew near to an end. Probably the last night Batjiri would ever see, unless he lost his Last Battle after death and was called to the minions of the Lord of Night.

He sifted a few ashes from the wealth-tree [wattle] ash in front of him, and rolled it into a ball with the crushed leaves of alertness-weed [2]. Soon it was ready to chew; he popped the ball into his mouth to start working on it.

The effects were quick: a slight deadening of his body, as the world became more distant. He still knew where he was and what he was, but he felt lighter, more alive. While it was not obvious yet, he knew that pain would be weakened if he felt it, and fatigue banished from him.

He rose, picked up the pages of his manuscript, and went to look for his fellow death warriors.


*

Mud underfoot in the blue hour [morning twilight] was not Hans's idea of the best way to prepare for a battle, but it would have to do. They were almost in place at the low rise which the commanders had picked out to defend. Fortunately, the mounted scouts had reported that there were no other Yadji dams nearby which could be broken to flood the field again.

He had his musket in place beside him. His lovingly-treasured flintlock. All of the men in his ten-strong front rank of musketeers had these new, wonderfully fast muskets. Some of the musketeers still fought using the older snaphances, which was why they were deployed to the flanks and rear of the formation.

The pikemen were in the centre, twenty wide, with another rank of musketeers on the other side. More pikemen were on his left, and another group of musketeers further past that. The same pattern would be duplicated on the other side. He could not see that far, even with the higher ground, but he knew the deployment. It was the same that the Colonel had ordered in the last two battles, with the cannon on the even higher ground behind them, and the cavalry off doing whatever Nuyts deemed best.

Now all they had to do was wait for their allies to arrive – they would be delayed by their morning prayers – and then for the enemy to attack.


*

Raw mushrooms were being passed around. Batjiri took two of them, and sent the platter on to the next warrior. He popped the first in his mouth, chewing it quickly, and swallowed. Then he consumed the second.

His armour was laid out before him, as standard for a death warrior in preparation for fulfilling his oath. The writing table and pen beside it were not standard, but Batjiri wanted to write whatever inspiration came to him before his departure.

Chanting started up around him as the death warriors started to dress. He joined in with the familiar chants, the ancient words coming to his lips almost without conscious thought. Recited so slowly, oh so slowly.

"The path opens, the path opens..."

He put on the padded undershirt first, left sleeve first, then the right.

"The journey begins, the journey begins..."

He tightened and tied the strings at the front, those designed so that the wearer could fit them himself.

"The first step is the hardest..."

He picked up his armour, with fish-shaped scales fastened to a jacket of emu-leather hide. A weight of metal in his arms, his last great burden to be fastened to him in this life.

"To make your oath true..."

He fitted the left sleeve first again, feeling the weight on his arm and shoulder as the jacket settled into place.

"Once on the road, once on the road..."

He closed the right sleeve around his arm, and pulled the jacket tight as the armour fitted around him.

"You will walk ever onward, ever onward..."

He signalled for his neighbour to tighten the straps for his jacket now, to bring the armour into maximum protection.

"To the end that lies beyond..."

He closed his neighbour's armour too, fixing it so that the straps closed at his back where they would be best defended.

"Go armed, go armed into the mist of decision..."

He pulled on the leather leggings, reinforced with only light scales which offered lesser protection, but which allowed freedom of movement and reduced weight.

"Battle to the death, battle to the death..."

He finished tying the leggings at his waist, and reached for his helmet.

"So that you can fight on after it!"

He placed the helmet on his head, his final protection, as the chant started again, the pace quickening slightly this time.

"The path opens, the path opens..."

He checked his shield, running his finger around the edge for flaws.

"The journey begins, the journey begins..."

He started to feel more detached now, as the mushrooms began to take effect inside him.

"The first step is the hardest, the hardest, to make your oath true..."

He strapped his shield onto his back, where it would be ready to carry into the battle.

"Once on the road, once on the road..."

He reached for the dagger and belt, and fixed them around his waist.

"You will walk ever onward, ever onward..."

He checked his sword too, blade and hilt, but did not move to put this on, not until he marched out.

"To the end that lies beyond..."

Words were being shaped by his lips, but others now brewing inside his head. Now, he knew how to finish his classic.

"Go armed, go armed into the mist of decision..."

He inked the pen and crouched over the table. Writing was awkward in armour, but he had written so many words during the long wait that he was sure he would manage now.

"Battle to the death, battle to the death, so that you can fight on after it!"

He wrote the words that concluded his work: Care not how you die. Care how you live.

The writing finished, Batjiri joined fully in the chanting, as the words were repeated again and again, gaining slightly in tempo each time.


*

The sun rose gradually higher in the sky as Hans waited with his compatriots. He silently blessed his hat. Back in Germany that would often have been merely decoration, but here it would be a stone-cold blessing as the day heated.

Movement on either side showed him that the Mutjing and Yadilli allies were moving into place. Slower than he liked, on a day like this. The Yadilli in particular had always put him ill at ease, with their persistent attempts to convert him and his fellows to their pagan faith. But he supposed it did not matter too much today. The Yadji were even slower to deploy, and no-one could doubt the Yadilli courage.

There would be no parley today. Perhaps demands had been heard discreetly over the last couple of days, but by now every man knew that the Yadji would never surrender until they had been utterly defeated. Today would have to be one more lesson.

As the sun rose higher, the Yadji eventually came. Units of the enemy marched across the open ground in front of them. Many units of men, seeming to stretch from horizon to horizon. As they neared, he could pick out the distinctive two-part Yadji banners, with a square section hanging from the top and a smaller downward-pointing triangle below. He had no idea what the different banner designs meant, but noticed how many of them were being carried.

"So it begins," he murmured.


*

Drums beat to his left and his right, as Batjiri marched on according to the demands of their rhythm. He was in the front rank of the Spurned, his banner of death warriors.

But not in the front rank of the whole army, as he might have expected. Units marched in front of the death warriors. Not in the usual tight formations that prepared for a charge. Small columns of men, two or three wide, with gaps between each column. The units had been separated, as if to weaken them. Or to make space. Who knew why Gunya Yadji had given his orders?

The ground beneath his feet held some mud. But not enough that it troubled him. This part of the battle was one he understood. The order had gone forth that the muddy ground would weaken the Raw Men. That their thunder balls would be harder to fire, that their dog-riders would find manoeuvre more difficult, and that the eggs from their thunder-carts would be less effective in the mud.

The drums continued their slow beat, and the death warriors marched on toward the enemy.


*

Cannon belched somewhere behind and above him, their balls landing among the approaching Yadji. Faint words carried across the narrowing gap; the Yadji seemed to be singing as they charged. He had never heard that before.

Regardless of the enemy actions, Hans knew what he had to do. A discipline born of long practice consumed him. He bit down on his first paper cartridge, ripping it open with his teeth. He pushed the frissen [striker] forward and tipped a small dose of powder into the revealed flash pan.

The singing grew slightly louder as he pushed the frissen back to close the flash pan. He tipped the musket vertically, the barrel held upward, and emptied the main dose of powder into the barrel. The ball went in next, before he pushed in the wadding formed from the cartridge paper. He took the ramrod from its position beneath the barrel, and pushed it into the barrel to compact the wadding, powder and ball into a mass ready for firing.

Ignoring the sounds of the approaching enemy, he replaced the ramrod and raised the musket ready for firing. The butt fitted against his shoulder as he pulled back the hammer.

The mass of enemy soldiers were close enough now, despite the strange gaps in their ranks. He aimed as best he could, readying himself for the order.

"Fire!" came the cry, somewhere behind him.

Smoke belched from the musket as he and his fellow musketeers fired. The thunder of the powder firing was followed by some screams that carried across the gap from the charging pagans. He ignored that as best he could, kneeling down to let the second rank fire, and tried to keep the powder cartridges dry and clear of the mud while he repeated the process to reload.

When he stood to fire again, he vaguely glimpsed many of the front rank of Yadji down, but more of them kept coming. The gap closed, and he fired again.

A third volley followed, then a fourth. The Yadji died in numbers, but they kept coming. It was as if they cared nothing for whether they died.

"Pikemen forward!" came the order.

Pikes were lowered as the men stepped forward, around Hans and his fellows. The approaching Yadji were close, so close now, and breaking out of their columns now that the musket fire ceased.

With the first two ranks of pikemen in front of him, Hans reloaded at a less frantic pace, waiting to fire over their shoulders when an opportunity presented itself.


*

Soldiers ahead fought and died. Smoke rose like mist from the battlefield, obscuring the enemy ranks and those who had come closest to them.

A few regular soldiers broke and ran, but the death warriors paid them no heed. Batjiri and his fellows cared nothing for those who fled death. An ending came to all men. All that mattered was how they faced it.

The beat of the drums quickened, and Batjiri shifted from a walk to a jog.

Ahead, a few more of the thunder-sticks belched lead and smoke. More of the enemy seemed to be fighting in hand to hand, at least as far as he could tell through the smoke.

The drum beat quickened again, and Batjiri shifted into a run. Thunder sounded, and somewhere off to his left, he heard screams as a large ball struck the ground. He focused more ahead than anything else, as between the smoke, he could see some of the enemy soldiers thrusting their very long spears to keep the regular soldiers at bay. Others fired more of their thunder-sticks.

The drum beat intensified, and Batjiri broke into a sprint. For now, he could concentrate only on frenzy and the charge.


*

Hans stood, waiting for a gap in the pikes, and fired. A Yadji soldier dropped to the ground. Whether dead, injured, or just out of fear, it mattered little. All that was important was keeping the enemy far enough away to keep the pikes intact.

So far, it remained unbreached, at least in front of him. He could not see or hear other parts of the battle, but since they were not being pressed from either side, events could not be going too badly.

As he crouched for yet another reload, he heard a sound which carried over the immediate clash of battle. Drums, growing louder and faster, and then a mighty shout that overcame even that sound.

When he rose again, he saw a fresh round of enemy soldiers drawing close. They carried two banners that he could see, and they moved at an incredible pace. He fired again, along with some other musketeers around him, but those two banners kept coming closer, and the drums kept sounding.




*

Nothing matters now, nothing except the charge. Other warriors march beside him, crying out fragments of one chant or another. He hears them not, his focus is on what lies ahead.

Many enemy long-spears, but not an unbroken wall. Enough of the regular soldiers have reached the enemy ranks that there are gaps here and there. That is all he needs, as he runs into one of those openings, right up to the spear-wielders.

The nearest soldier wears scale armour, but Batjiri hardly notices. He runs right up, with a thrust of his sword that brings down the scale-armoured man. The one behind him wears brighter colours, though that barely registers too. He has a sword, but still in position to fight the soldier who just died. Batjiri's thrust catches the man in the shoulder, and the enemy falls. Batjiri's boots land on the man's jaw as he steps forward, to face another brightly-coloured enemy.


*

Hans drops his musket hurriedly, and reaches for his rapier. "God preserve me!" he says.

The second wave of Yadji soldiers have devastated the front ranks. He knows he shot at least one, and others within his sight fell from other muskets or impaled themselves on pikes. Even those gruesome deaths have served the enemy's purposes, since others pushed into the gaps left when their fellows fell to the ground and carried the pike heads with them.

No matter how many of them died before they came close, once they reached the lines, the rest have fought with the fury of dragons. Nothing is left of the front two ranks of pikeman before him, and he has only been saved by other pikemen who pressed forward after dropping their pikes and drawing their swords.

Now, it is his turn. One of those frenzied maniacs is clashing with another German, sword on sword. Hans steps forward when he sees an opening, and strikes the maniac in the side. It does not kill him, or even pierce his armour, but the distraction lets the other German strike a deadlier blow.

"They die!" Hans shouts.

He never sees the blow that comes from his left. Or anything again after that.


*

Batjiri strikes again and again, sword on sword or armour or shield. He does not hear anything. Noise is naught but background in his frenzy. All that matters is what he sees, and what he sees, he attacks.

He is not capable of counting how many of the enemy have fallen. Or even of distinguishing between friends and enemies, except for those who wear the white dye. Anyone else is a foe to be cut down.

And cut them down he does, until a pistol shot he never sees blasts through his armour, and he falls to the ground. Even then, prone on the ground, he manages to draw his dagger and thrust it at the nearest foe, though he will never know if it causes any damage.

Behind him, as he the world fades around him, sounds register again. A fresh sound of drums.

Batjiri has gone to fight his Last Battle before a third wave of regular Yadji soldiers charges in. The embattled Raw Men are too busily engaged in melee to use their pikes or muskets to hold off this wave.

After that arrival, only one fate remains open.


--

27 January 1638
Kirunmara, Durigal

Row after row of soldiers, lined up for Gunya Yadji to inspect. His soldiers, now, one and all. Far too many have died in subduing the Raw Men and their allies and rebels. So many widows will weep tonight.

Yet for all of the cost, this is a victory he will treasure for ever more. The seemingly-invincible Nedlandj have been defeated, by the courage of the death warriors and by Bidwadjari's cunning, and ultimately by weight of iron and blood. His cousin Bailgu is most lamentably not among the dead, too, but even the best of battle plans do not accomplish everything.

He completes his inspection of the soldiers, walking past the front rank of each unit, to cheers and acclamation. This is his victory.

Bidwadjari and his other senior commanders await him in the centre of the field. The other princes stand behind them, too, except for now-departed Bailgu.

After a moment, he shouts, "Bidwadjari, my right arm, and all of my soldiers: praise be unto you for the glory you have won."

He waits, for the soldiers to shout on the message in relay until it has been carried to all units.

Before he can go on with his speech, Bidwadjari drops onto one knee. "The glory is yours, my Regent. Command me and I shall obey, in all things, until the Neverborn breaks free of the earth and reclaims his dominion."

The ritual announcement leaves Gunya momentarily lost for words. The throne belongs to him, of course, but it is not something he has expected to claim just yet.

The commanders around Bidwadjari match the announcement, and then the soldiers behind. Making the most of the unplanned moment, Gunya turns to the princes, to await their response. One by one, they do the same. The slowest are those who had been backing Bailgu, but even they submit.

Such an acclamation expects that he will now give commands worthy of a new Regent. Fortunately, he already knows what he wants to order. One part had already been planned whenever he declared victory in this battle, while the other simply awaited his assumption of the Regency to say what has long been in his heart.

Gunya says, "Hear my commands. Prisoners we have seized from the Nedlandj and the rebels. When they captured honourable Yadji soldiers in their uprising, they slaughtered them. It is only fitting that our response be the same. Death for death, sword for sword. Kill all of the prisoners, sparing only those drove the thunder-carts [cannon]."

"It shall be done," Bidwadjari says.

"For those few who escaped on their giant dogs, do not kill them all, so long as they flee," Gunya says. "Harry them, chase them, kill a few, but do not destroy them. Drive them from the Land, and let them carry word of their defeat. Let them carry word of the might of the Yadji."

That draws forth cheers, as the words are relayed to the soldiers.

After the orders have been relayed, Gunya speaks again. This time, he adopts his most formal tone. "Hear the words of your Regent: the Nedlandj are enemies of the Neverborn. They are not to be harboured. They must not be welcomed. The Nedlandj are to be killed on sight, by any man or woman who holds to honour. The Land of the Five Directions must be free of their taint. Never can they be permitted to set foot here, until the Neverborn comes and Cleanses all the world."


--

Riding, endless riding, punctuated by moments of too-short sleep.

Twenty horses trail behind Pieter Nuyts. Only fifteen carry riders. The other horses are there as remounts and carriers of the few remaining provisions and other supplies which the escapees have managed to bring with them.

Worse, this small band of sixteen men are less than half of those who fled from the battlefield beside the Yadji capital. They had still numbered twenty-four when they reached Coonrura [Kingston SE, South Australia], only to find that their ships had fled before their arrival, giving up the promise of gold out of fear of the Yadilli who had turned on their former allies. Now, they number only sixteen men fleeing north-west out of the Yadji lands, with the fear that every skirmish with their pursuers will cost them more blood.

Another hill, another declining slope, as they urge their horses on, with Nuyts still at the lead. Strength has failed them in the Yadji empire, but for now, he will run. After that... he will have to see.

On the downslope, the grass gives way to a scattering of these strange, sharp-smelling, fire-loving trees which are so characteristic of this land. The trees gradually grow closer together, but there is a trail through here, too. Not a well-used one, by the looks of it, but wide enough for two horses to ride side by side.

Further down, the ground flattens out, and the trees open up into one of those wide swathes of open, slowly-regrowing land which mark the passage of one of their wildfires. Nuyts signals for the horsemen to ride four abreast. Not that he expects much danger ahead, since the Yadji have been trying to pursue them on foot, but it will be safer nonetheless.

Or so he thinks.

When they are nearly across the open ground, men emerge from the trees beyond. Sunlight glints off metal as they emerge. Not scaled armour like the Yadji prefer, but something else. It looks like mail, with rings reflecting the light of the sun.

He almost signals for an attack, since there are only about two dozen men who have stepped out from the trees. Then he notices that more men are standing at the edge of the trees. Many more men, at least twice as many as the mail-clad warriors. Men who carry some sort of bows. Why didn't he notice them earlier?

Nuyts has drawn his horse to a halt, as have those with him. The mail-clad warriors make no move to attack them, either, although the ones behind have their bows out where they can nock arrows quickly.

One of the mail-clad men steps forward slightly. His gaze lands on Nuyts.

"Pieter Nuyts, I presume," the man says, his Dutch accented but understandable.

"So I am called," he says. "Who are you, to ask that of me?"

"I am Wemba of the Whites," the other man says, and sketches a bow with left arm across his stomach and right arm extended, for all the world as if he is a Dutch gentleman.

Nuyts wonders, almost abstractly, why the man calls himself a White. His skin is a few shades lighter than that of a typical Yadji, but still dark in comparison to any man not born in Africa [3]. "You are a... Gunnagal?"

The man nods. "Of course."

It takes Nuyts a moment to realise that Wemba has nodded to mean the affirmative, something which no other kuro has ever done. And there is the bow, too. Just how much does this man know of Dutch ways?

Wemba says, "But the archers behind me are not Gunnagal. They are Palawa. One Palawa with a greatbow can hit a duck at two hundred paces. I have fifty Palawa behind me. Consider this carefully as you listen to my next words."

A shiver passes through Nuyts, despite the heat. "I'm listening."

"Pieter Nuyts, you are summoned to Tjibarr," Wemba says. He holds up a hand, and the archers behind him move as one to seize arrows and nock them into the bowstrings.

Will those arrows pierce steel armour? If they are anything like the longbows which the English are said to have used in the past, they may well. Anyway, the horses have no protection.

Despite the danger, though, Nuyts still does not want to agree. Being ordered around so arrogantly grates at him. "And if I refuse to come?" he asks.

Wemba grins, or at least his mouth is open and his teeth are showing. "If you are summoned to Tjibarr, you will come." His grin widens. "As to whether you are dead or alive when you arrive – that is your choice."


--

[1] This is a "tea" made from the leaves from the lemon-scented tea tree (Leptospermum petersonii), which in historical Australia was used by early colonial settlers to make a substitute for tea. The flavour is reminiscent of lemon, though lacking some of the tartness. In allohistorical Aururia, this plant was cultivated by the peoples of the eastern seaboard (where it is native), and its use has spread to some of the Yadji lands. The ruling class and most of the dominant ethnic Junditmara do not care for it, but some of their subject peoples do, including the Yadilli in the west and the Kurnawal in the east.

[2] Alertness-weed is what the Yadji call a couple of the native Aururian species of tobacco (Nicotiana suaveolens and N. velutina) that the death warriors chew as part of their preparation for entering their battle trance. These are close relatives of domesticated tobacco, and have stimulant properties.

[3] Strictly speaking, there are other non-African peoples whose skin tone could be considered as dark as the Gunnagal (eg some Melanesian peoples). Nuyts is not really aware of those, though; at this point New Guinea and the Solomon Islands had only limited contact with Europeans.

--

Thoughts?
 
Well that's an ignominious end. The Dutch are defeated thanks to strategic use of the environment and the deployment of some fanatic elite warriors. And now the Aururians have gotten their hands on cannons - it was very clever of the prince to spare their operators.
 
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OK just on the ending, I love Wemba, he is just fun!

And OK, wow, yes, my goodness, yes, this was so cathartic! I love the clear and present thought that went into this, both in universe and in the world building. This plan couldn't have worked without the Death Warriors, but they were created ages back and woven well into the world so they work perfectly Batjiri was an excellent perspective character, I love his final message, it is well thought out and fits him and his allies world view and culture very well, I hope his work gets published.

The plan was awesome, just straight up flooding the battlefield via Dam was inspired, no horse, had to maneuver in, lost gun powder, it really shows what a great general he is to have thought of that and used it so effectively. Hehe, surprised he didn't try to time t to wash them away, but that might have been to ridiculously hard to time XD

The battle itself was well wet up, the preparations, the speeches, the experiences with the environment, all so brilliantly done, adding tons of weight and depth to the proceedings! Plus the deadened senses, the descriptions of the battlefield,just wow, amazing stuff, this was a great climax!

Also, hehehe, get wrecked Pieter Nuyts, its clever that their own local allies turned on them, and fitting given what Pieter Nuyts and his allies planned for them. Alliances of convenience are suck tender things.

And hey Gunya is in charge now, good for him, I like his plan to spread their victory, it was well delivered and could certainly help paint them as memetic badasses, plus good idea with the cannons, hehehe I can't wait to see what they do with those!

Thanks for the post!
 
And now we have our answer for the apologetics earlier- they lost in a way that can't be completely explained away by native treachery and auxiliary cowardice. Since any actual agency of the "kuros" mixes with imperialism like vampires and sunbathing... Cleary it was the actions of Nurtys, provoking the wrath of god and being waylaid by his barbarian temptors to sin, that infused the spirits of these savages with their mindless animal rage and disdain for life.
 
Well, this is certainly awkward, isn't it?
Very awkward for the Nedlandj, certainly. The early European leaders in trading with Aururia have just had the most populous state on the continent close its borders to them. Of course, one European trading company's setback is another's opportunity: the Inglidj are already in contact with the Yadji, the Pannidj have raided the west coast and the Drendj may show up at some point.

Well that's an ignominious end. The Dutch are defeated thanks to strategic use of the environment and the deployment of some fanatic elite warriors. And now the Aururians have gotten their hands on cannons - it was very clever of the prince to spare their operators.
Yes, the grand and glorious conquest attempt ended because, despite massive advantages in technology, the Nedlandj forgot about a few minor details, most notably that they are not the only ones who cane come up with ideas.

The cannon were certainly a good thing to try to keep, although for reasons which I will go into in more detail in a follow-up "directors commentary" post, constructing a decent artillery section requires more than just capturing a few cannoneers.

OK just on the ending, I love Wemba, he is just fun!
Wemba is the other favourite character (from a writing perspective) which I mentioned before. He is just enjoyable to write from his viewpoint, although that doesn't give him Plot Immunity or anything like that.

And OK, wow, yes, my goodness, yes, this was so cathartic! I love the clear and present thought that went into this, both in universe and in the world building. This plan couldn't have worked without the Death Warriors, but they were created ages back and woven well into the world so they work perfectly Batjiri was an excellent perspective character, I love his final message, it is well thought out and fits him and his allies world view and culture very well, I hope his work gets published.
Batjiri certainly gets published. His work was what he hoped to become a tenth classic (the Yadji currently have nine classic works of literature), and the European author's fictional account of the invasion being titled The Tenth Classic indicates that his work becomes well-known.

The plan was awesome, just straight up flooding the battlefield via Dam was inspired, no horse, had to maneuver in, lost gun powder, it really shows what a great general he is to have thought of that and used it so effectively. Hehe, surprised he didn't try to time t to wash them away, but that might have been to ridiculously hard to time XD
Yes, Bidwadjari came up with the best alternative he had available, and worked with it. If you can't match the technology, change the rules. Trying for a washaway would have been hard and risked flooding his own side (if they were close enough to entice the Europeans out), but this turned out to be enough.

The battle itself was well wet up, the preparations, the speeches, the experiences with the environment, all so brilliantly done, adding tons of weight and depth to the proceedings! Plus the deadened senses, the descriptions of the battlefield,just wow, amazing stuff, this was a great climax!
From my own perspective, this is one of my favourite two or three chapters in the entire series. I do struggle to write battle scenes, so there's a reason that the majority of the chapter was the buildup and aftermath rather than the actual combat.

And hey Gunya is in charge now, good for him, I like his plan to spread their victory, it was well delivered and could certainly help paint them as memetic badasses, plus good idea with the cannons, hehehe I can't wait to see what they do with those!
Nuyts can get some good use out of the cannon and powder he captured, although it should be noted that his main motivation for doing so was internal security. He'd seen how difficult it was to capture fortifications during the civil war, and correctly figured that cannon would reduce a lot of those fortifications to rubble pretty quickly.

Making more cannon and obtaining more powder, though, is a much harder task. This requires metallurgy and other knowledge which the Yadji lack. This doesn't prevent them obtaining more cannon by trade, of course. The Yadji have gold coming out of their ears, and can persuade Europeans or others to sell them cannon and powder. Making their own is harder, though.

Yes, Europeans could conceivably try to invade again in pursuit of all of that gold, but the overwhelming nature of the Yadji victory this time gives a strong incentive to just trade instead. Europeans don't realise just how hard-fought the victory was, so it gives the impression that any future invasion attempts would be much harder than they actually might be.

And now we have our answer for the apologetics earlier- they lost in a way that can't be completely explained away by native treachery and auxiliary cowardice. Since any actual agency of the "kuros" mixes with imperialism like vampires and sunbathing... Cleary it was the actions of Nurtys, provoking the wrath of god and being waylaid by his barbarian temptors to sin, that infused the spirits of these savages with their mindless animal rage and disdain for life.
This is certainly a big part of the answer. The other element is that Nuyts and his remaining mercenaries are now guests of Tjibarr (for a given value of guest) and are trying to explain away actions which the Tjibarri disapprove of.
 
The cannon were certainly a good thing to try to keep, although for reasons which I will go into in more detail in a follow-up "directors commentary" post, constructing a decent artillery section requires more than just capturing a few cannoneers.
Dang that's a shame, was really hoping they'd have some cannons by next time, would have been awesome :D

Wemba is the other favourite character (from a writing perspective) which I mentioned before. He is just enjoyable to write from his viewpoint, although that doesn't give him Plot Immunity or anything like that.
That sounds totally fair, also haha now I worry for him XD

Batjiri certainly gets published. His work was what he hoped to become a tenth classic (the Yadji currently have nine classic works of literature), and the European author's fictional account of the invasion being titled The Tenth Classic indicates that his work becomes well-known.
That is awesome!

Yes, Bidwadjari came up with the best alternative he had available, and worked with it. If you can't match the technology, change the rules. Trying for a washaway would have been hard and risked flooding his own side (if they were close enough to entice the Europeans out), but this turned out to be enough.
Yeah that makes sense, guess he couldn't just rely on them coming to him when they are the one's winning, he worked with what he had and worked well.

From my own perspective, this is one of my favourite two or three chapters in the entire series. I do struggle to write battle scenes, so there's a reason that the majority of the chapter was the buildup and aftermath rather than the actual combat.
You did very well for what its worth, it was very easy to picture but had a hectic feel to it, fitting for battle.

Nuyts can get some good use out of the cannon and powder he captured, although it should be noted that his main motivation for doing so was internal security. He'd seen how difficult it was to capture fortifications during the civil war, and correctly figured that cannon would reduce a lot of those fortifications to rubble pretty quickly.

Making more cannon and obtaining more powder, though, is a much harder task. This requires metallurgy and other knowledge which the Yadji lack. This doesn't prevent them obtaining more cannon by trade, of course. The Yadji have gold coming out of their ears, and can persuade Europeans or others to sell them cannon and powder. Making their own is harder, though.

Yes, Europeans could conceivably try to invade again in pursuit of all of that gold, but the overwhelming nature of the Yadji victory this time gives a strong incentive to just trade instead. Europeans don't realise just how hard-fought the victory was, so it gives the impression that any future invasion attempts would be much harder than they actually might be.
Yep memetic badasses, love it!

And yeah, that makes sense as cannon workers likely don't know all the stuff they need, though is also sad, them having cannons would have rocked, maybe they can work out ancient flamethrowers instead XD

This is certainly a big part of the answer. The other element is that Nuyts and his remaining mercenaries are now guests of Tjibarr (for a given value of guest) and are trying to explain away actions which the Tjibarri disapprove of.
How does one even begin to explain this in a way that doesn't sound terrible XD
 
Dang that's a shame, was really hoping they'd have some cannons by next time, would have been awesome :D
I didn't say that they would have no cannon; I said that they wouldn't be making cannon. Nothing stops the new Regent from ordering a hundred cannon from the English if he wants to spare the gold. Admittedly, using those cannon effectively will be a tougher ask, but fortunately while they haven't really captured people who can make cannon, they have captured people who can teach them how to use cannon.

And yeah, that makes sense as cannon workers likely don't know all the stuff they need, though is also sad, them having cannons would have rocked, maybe they can work out ancient flamethrowers instead XD
They will get some use out of the captured cannoneers. They even had a master cannoneer. But even a master cannoneer's knowledge of cannon making is along the lines of "you can cast iron into this shape, and load powder, and you can do a lot of damage." The questions of "so how do you cast iron?" and "so how do you make powder?" will quickly follow, along with "so where can we get this brimstone?" and so forth.

Technology transfer is a lot harder than it gets made out to be in much published AH, various computer games, and so forth, where one can get an impression that "if they capture a musket, in a couple of years they will be turning out their own." But a few real-life examples help to shatter those kind of myths. Take the Māori in New Zealand. They traded for so many muskets and powder that every surviving group on New Zealand were armed with muskets. They recruited a couple of thousand Europeans who lived with them, called Pakeha Māori, who varied from slaves to high-ranking advisors. They fought multiple wars with each other and with the British, in all of which they used muskets very effectively. But they never made their own muskets, and never really came close to doing so.

In Japan, the level of metallurgical knowledge was much closer to that of Europeans, and even surpassed it in some areas. And yet even in Japan, when presented with muskets their top metalsmiths were unable to duplicate them entirely. They had to ask European experts specifically how to make them. (If I remember right, the matchlock mechanism eluded the first Japanese experts). Japan did eventually learn to make its own muskets, and indeed those which matched European ones, but it was not a quick process, and their technological positions started out fairly close.

The Aururian nations have metallurgy considerably ahead of the historical Māori, but also a long way behind that of Japan. They will adapt what they can, and if they can survive long enough may do quite well, but they will not be making muskets overnight, let alone cannon.

How does one even begin to explain this in a way that doesn't sound terrible XD
Easy.
God wills this to happen.
I get the impression that explanation would not go down well with any audience given either, that they failed or that they tried it in the first place.
There were two groups of European survivors. Those who fled with their ships after the defeat, and who knew about the early battles but not really about the final one. And those who were captured accepted the hospitality of Tjibarr. Those ones knew exactly what happened, but had more incentive to hide it.

The first group's motivation was to try to justify why the Yadji were now so hostile to the Dutch. The Yadji were angry about the treatment of prisoners, and so the first group started offering justifications claiming that the locals came up with the idea and the Europeans just went along with it because they assumed those examples meant that was how things were done in Aururia. The second group are dealing with Tjibarri who express disgust at the treatment of prisoners, and so since they are prisoners guests themselves, they try to assure the Tjibarri that killing prisoners is Not Done for civilized people, and that it was the Yadilli who killed Yadji prisoners, honestly. We would never kill surrendering people. Prisoners must be treated with respect and honour, yes siree.
 
I didn't say that they would have no cannon; I said that they wouldn't be making cannon. Nothing stops the new Regent from ordering a hundred cannon from the English if he wants to spare the gold. Admittedly, using those cannon effectively will be a tougher ask, but fortunately while they haven't really captured people who can make cannon, they have captured people who can teach them how to use cannon.
Ah, sorry I more meant I was hoping they'd be making their own, but given that gift he gave... Yeah I can see some folks wanting to trade some cannons for gold :D

They will get some use out of the captured cannoneers. They even had a master cannoneer. But even a master cannoneer's knowledge of cannon making is along the lines of "you can cast iron into this shape, and load powder, and you can do a lot of damage." The questions of "so how do you cast iron?" and "so how do you make powder?" will quickly follow, along with "so where can we get this brimstone?" and so forth.

Technology transfer is a lot harder than it gets made out to be in much published AH, various computer games, and so forth, where one can get an impression that "if they capture a musket, in a couple of years they will be turning out their own." But a few real-life examples help to shatter those kind of myths. Take the Māori in New Zealand. They traded for so many muskets and powder that every surviving group on New Zealand were armed with muskets. They recruited a couple of thousand Europeans who lived with them, called Pakeha Māori, who varied from slaves to high-ranking advisors. They fought multiple wars with each other and with the British, in all of which they used muskets very effectively. But they never made their own muskets, and never really came close to doing so.

In Japan, the level of metallurgical knowledge was much closer to that of Europeans, and even surpassed it in some areas. And yet even in Japan, when presented with muskets their top metalsmiths were unable to duplicate them entirely. They had to ask European experts specifically how to make them. (If I remember right, the matchlock mechanism eluded the first Japanese experts). Japan did eventually learn to make its own muskets, and indeed those which matched European ones, but it was not a quick process, and their technological positions started out fairly close.

The Aururian nations have metallurgy considerably ahead of the historical Māori, but also a long way behind that of Japan. They will adapt what they can, and if they can survive long enough may do quite well, but they will not be making muskets overnight, let alone cannon.
Yeah that makes sense, the casting of metal and inner workings require a lot of jumps, let alone stuff like brimstone, so kudos on the commitment to historical hardness and thanks for the informative post, that was definitely news to me.

There were two groups of European survivors. Those who fled with their ships after the defeat, and who knew about the early battles but not really about the final one. And those who were captured accepted the hospitality of Tjibarr. Those ones knew exactly what happened, but had more incentive to hide it.

The first group's motivation was to try to justify why the Yadji were now so hostile to the Dutch. The Yadji were angry about the treatment of prisoners, and so the first group started offering justifications claiming that the locals came up with the idea and the Europeans just went along with it because they assumed those examples meant that was how things were done in Aururia. The second group are dealing with Tjibarri who express disgust at the treatment of prisoners, and so since they are prisoners guests themselves, they try to assure the Tjibarri that killing prisoners is Not Done for civilized people, and that it was the Yadilli who killed Yadji prisoners, honestly. We would never kill surrendering people. Prisoners must be treated with respect and honour, yes siree.
That makes a lot of sense on the hiding it front and lack of info part, also yes, such gracious hosts, so kind, one would never want to leave XD

So both groups are lying out of both cheeks to try and escape judgement for causing a diplomatic incident of massive proportions. Hmm, in this regard Gunya killing the prisoners is counter productive as it will give weight to the lies, but he couldn't really know that. I get the impression the Tjibarri won't buy it though.
 
So both groups are lying out of both cheeks to try and escape judgement for causing a diplomatic incident of massive proportions. Hmm, in this regard Gunya killing the prisoners is counter productive as it will give weight to the lies, but he couldn't really know that. I get the impression the Tjibarri won't buy it though.
The Tjibarri won't really believe it, but it gives them a diplomatic excuse (ie plausible lie) for keeping their guests around rather than killing them as they deserve for such treatment. And thus they get to ask all sorts of other questions of the survivors, and try to learn what they can about all things of the Raw Men.
 
I always loved historical trickery like that, "oh no I'm merely king in Prussia", "oh no these aren't swords sir knight, just really big knives", etc...
 
Lands of Red and Gold Interlude #0
Lands of Red and Gold Interlude #0

This instalment was originally written for an online contest (at the now-defunct www.counter-factual.net).

Continuity note: The gist of this essay fits into the Lands of Red and Gold timeline, including the references to modern authors, cities, nations etc. What should not be considered canon is the absolute dates given to the publication of the various ATL sources. I've still not determined the general rate of cultural, scientific and cultural progress in this timeline. There are factors that pull both ways, such as reduced world population and economy thanks to *Australian plagues, but increased world population thanks to the spread of *Australian crops. There are also some consequences of *Australian contact which may contribute to the spread of the scientific world-view. Until I've determined those, the absolute dates listed here should not be taken as canon. (The relative dates between the various works are still more or less right.)

Stylistic note: The main essay text is written in normal text. Any brief notations about OTL places, cultures etc are marked in square brackets []. The essay marker's comments are in double square brackets with blue italics [[]].

Anyway, on with the essay...

--

Q: Describe and evaluate the roles which geography, climate and native agriculture performed in the comparative cultural development of any two of the "cradles of civilization".

Essay submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements of Fundamentals of Cultural History at Marlborough University, Suffolk [Alexandria, Virginia], Commonwealth of Virginia, Alleghania

  1. Introduction

In its fundamentals, human culture is as old as the evolution of language, if not the evolution of the human species. For the purposes of historical analysis, however, the study of cultural history begins with the first cultures to develop writing, supplemented by what archaeology can reveal of their pre-literate development [1]. These cultures are traditionally referred to as cradles of civilization; while the value and connotations of this term have been disputed, it remains the most widely accepted name within cross-cultural studies [2]. [[Redundant: this paragraph was unnecessary as the next one gives a useful introduction.]]

While the number of cradles of civilization is debated, the main consensus is seven: the Euphrates and Tigris in Mesopotamia, the Nile in Egypt, the Indus Valley, the Yellow River in Cathay, the Nyalananga Valley [River Murray, Australia], the Tamochan [Olmecs], and Caral [Norte Chico civilization, in OTL modern Peru] [3]. Each of these centres had an independent origin of culture; the fundamentals of their worldviews developed without significant contributions from other cultures. This essay will examine two of these independent centres: Egypt along the Nile, and the Gunnagalic cultures that developed on the Nyalananga and its tributaries.

The concept of a cradle of civilization includes the inherent assumption that civilization largely develops alone [4]. Meaningful historical analysis of their development can only be conducted when there is limited fusion with other cultures. As such, this essay focuses mainly on the development of Egyptian culture until the Nubian invasion of 732 BC [5], and of the Gunnagalic cultures until the European irruption in 1619 AD.

After these dates, the cultural development of these two civilizations became part of the global cultural matrix, and separate analysis becomes much more difficult. Nevertheless, later I will briefly assess some of the major influences which Egypt and Gunnagalia had on the wider world.

[1] Baxter (1978), pp iv-vii
[2] Hubbard (1999), p496
[3] Ibid., pp501-503
[4] Didomede (1992), pp16-18
[5] It is true that Egypt reverted intermittently to native rule for some periods after this date, such as during the Twenty-Sixth Dynasty. Nevertheless, the Nubian intrusion and other foreign influences (Assyrian and Persian) meant that Egyptian culture had already been pulled out of its independent course. Refer also to al-Azm (2004), pp270-276.

2.1 Geography and Climate of Egypt

Egyptian culture has long been recognised for its remarkable features, notably its stability and impressive public works [6]. Its native religion endured nearly unchanged for over three millennia. Even in its early development it produced massive constructions which would survive until the present day. The geography and climate of Egypt played a determining role in shaping this distinctive culture.

Ancient Egyptian civilization was built on a single geographical anomaly: the River Nile. This river, the world's longest, has a lower course which runs through one of the harshest deserts in the world. Such an arid climate would normally not sustain human life. Only the life-giving waters of the Nile allowed Egypt to support any meaningful human habitation, let alone become one of the cradles of civilization. The Nile and its desert surroundings shaped the development of the Egyptian civilization in its religion, in its political structure and stability, in its cultural outlook, and its entire society [7].

The Nile flows through a natural channel in the Sahara, forming a narrow band of arable land in otherwise overwhelming emptiness, culminating in the broad expanse of the Nile Delta. Ancient Egypt traces its cultural origins to this limited region, bound by the First Cataract and the Delta; a verdant but confined land.

[6] Trevitt (1982), pp24-27
[7] Ibid., pp29-33

2.2 Geography and Climate of Gunnagalia

Gunnagalia [8] is most recognised in modern popular culture for what its inhabitants were at the end of their independent development: a people of factions and football, of secretive physicians and many-spiced food, chewers of kunduri [a native nicotine-containing drug reminiscent of tobacco], and chain-mail clad armies marching to war. In reality, this popular impression marked merely the most recent phase in a long history of culture and technology which had progressed through many stages of development since the first proto-farmers started to cultivate red yams along the middle course of the Nyalananga's journey to the sea.

As in Egypt, Gunnagalia's culture was shaped by the geography and climate that bore it. Rising in the driest inhabitant continent, the Nyalananga is a much lower-volume river than most other rivers of its length. It drains about one-seventh of the Aururian [*Australian] land mass, over 400,000 square miles, forming the 17th largest drainage basin in the world, but in terms of average discharge volume, it is only the 44th largest river [9].

The Nyalananga basin is mostly extremely flat; rivers take a meandering, slow-flowing course through most of their length. Unlike Egypt, climate in the basin is not as unforgiving as that of the Nile. For most of the river's length, there is moderate precipitation. Water-efficient plants can be sustained by rainfall alone, including the crops which started native agriculture. The river provides transportation, water for drinking and artificial wetlands, and floods which renew the soil, but is not the conditio sine qua non for human agriculture and life as is the Nile [10].

The geography and climate in the Nyalananga basin are distinctive for their unpredictability, and this contributed to Gunnagalia's cultural development. The climate in south-eastern Aururia does not follow an annual cycle, but is instead dominated by longer-term variations of drought and intense rains. Rain cannot be relied on to fall at a particular time of year, or even in a given year. Severe droughts can endure for years, or be broken unpredictably by rainfall so heavy that it results in extensive flooding. In the flat topography of the Nyalananga basin, these floods can spread over fifty miles wide, and take months to subside [11]. In dry years, the native flora supports cataclysmic wildfires which bring devastation to wide areas. These chaotic, unpredictable extremes of climate shaped the Gunnagalic culture that developed in the cradle of the Nyalananga.

[8] Gunnagalia is the term which is used in this essay for the cultures that developed in the Nyalananga basin. It is also referred to as the Nyalananga Valley Civilization. Some scholars, including most historians, prefer to reserve the term Nyalananga Valley Civilization for the prehistoric phase of this cradle (ie the Archaic and Formative Eras before the Late Formative collapse), and use Gunnagalia when referring to the entire pre-1619 period. Other scholars, including most archaeologists, use the term Nyalananga Valley Civilization for all of the peoples who dwelt along the Nyalananga until the European irruption. Note that in linguistic scholarship, the term Gunnagalia has a different meaning, being used to refer to all of the speakers of Gunnagalic languages throughout eastern Aururia.
[9] Fletcher-Brown (1975), pp103-105.
[10] Ibid., pp108-115.
[11] Lawson (1959), p6.

2.3 Comparative Geography and Climate

In both Egypt and Gunnagalia, the developing civilizations centred on their respective rivers. The rivers provided the main form of transportation [12], and their waters sustained the people who lived along their banks.

The critical difference lay in the nature of flooding and general water flow, and the broader weather patterns which drove them. Egypt's desert latitudes meant it was usually baked in year-round sun broken by occasional sandstorms. The Nile floods were a regular annual cycle which brought life-giving water and soil-replenishing silt to a land which otherwise had virtually no rainfall. Drought and flood failure formed a rare departure from these regular patterns. The rhythm and order of the Nile shaped the culture that developed along its banks [13].

The Nyalananga had no such regularity. Its flow was highly variable, dominated by irregular patterns of drought alternating with abundant rainfall, and some floods so extensive they were scourges, not blessings. Like the Nile floods, the floods on the Nyalananga could be triggered by unseen rainfall, especially tropical storms in the distant headwaters of the Anedeli [River Darling]. In some cases the cause of floods was unknown, while in other cases the floods were known to originate from more southerly rainfalls. This combination of knowledge and uncertainty contributed to a sense of irregularity for the peoples who dwelt along the Nyalananga and its tributaries [14].

The sudden and destructive presence of wildfires added to a sense of a landscape which could be full of hostility, but much less predictably than the relentless heat of the desert around the Nile. In short, the key feature of the geography and climate of the Nyalananga was unpredictability. The culture which it supported faced chaos, and developed a dramatically different worldview.

The other major difference in geography between Egypt and Gunnagalia was in their relative constraints and avenues to expansion. Egypt was largely confined to the Nile corridor and the Delta, with only narrow regions for potential expansion along the Mediterranean coast or further up the river. Gunnagalia had broader opportunities for expansion, with inhabitable lands to the south, east and north of its riverine heartland.

On the other hand, Egypt was geographically much closer to other cradles of civilization, particularly Mesopotamia, and other agricultural peoples. It also had access to the sea via the Nile Delta. In contrast, Gunnagalia was isolated from other agricultural peoples by deserts and oceans. The Nyalananga is also not navigable to the sea. These factors would also considerably affect the development of these two cradles of civilization.

[12] While the Nyalananga was a much less useful river for shipping than the Nile, due to variable water flow and frequent natural hazards, it still provided a viable transportation route.
[13] McDonnell & Hibbert (2003), pp348-351
[14] Fletcher-Brown (1975), pp110-111.

  1. Cultural Consequence

3.1 Order and Unpredictability


As with all the cradles of civilization, there are myriad differences between the geography and climates of Egypt and Gunnagalia. From the perspective of cultural history, the most significant of these is the sense of order and predictability which the Nile brought to Egypt, and the sense of chaos and unpredictability which the Nyalananga brought to Gunnagalia. [[Lacks justification. Why is this more important than, for example, the geographical isolation which prevented contact with non-Aururian cultures for nearly 4000 years?]]

In both cases, the inhabitants did not know the true cause of this order or unpredictability. No-one in Egypt knew about the summer rains in the Ethiopian highlands that drove the annual floods; no-one in Aururia knew about the irregular temperature shifts in ocean temperatures in the Pacific and Indian Oceans which drove their own patterns of flood and drought.

Without accurate knowledge, both peoples speculated on causes, and developed beliefs and outlooks which best fit the nature of the climate and geography they inhabited. The Egyptians saw the world as permanent and predictable, and developed a knowledge base, religion and social structure which emphasised this sense of permanence and hierarchy [15]. The Gunnagalic peoples viewed the world as essentially unpredictable, and focused their knowledge on practical effects, preparing for contingencies, and creating long-term plans that sought to create permanence where none could be found in nature [16].

This sense of stability and order is demonstrated in the architectural preferences of both civilizations. Egyptian architecture was built to endure; Gunnagalic architecture was built to be "good enough". Notably, Egyptians built with stone at a much earlier stage of their development than Gunnagalia; most early buildings along the Nyalananga were made of rammed earth rather than stone. Egyptian architecture functioned in a climate where it needed little active maintenance, while Gunnagalic buildings were designed to be easily repairable or replaced [17].

These outlooks are typified by the public works popularly associated with the two civilizations. The Pyramids and Great Sphinx in Egypt have been weathered from their original forms, but remain largely intact. The artificial wetlands along the Nyalananga needed to be repaired every flood. The only pre-Houtmanian [ie before Dutch contact] waterworks which remain today are those which have been maintained more or less continuously since the European irruption.

[15] Harrison (1986), pp99-106
[16] Iverson (1992), pp211-217
[17] Agrippa (2006), pp380-382

3.2 Religion and Astronomy

The consequences of predictability and disorder are equally reflected in the religions and astronomy which developed in both civilizations [18]. Egyptian religion was shaped by the harshness of the desert, and the perception that the social order created in this world would be perpetuated in the world to come. While this is most popularly associated with the practice of mummification, in practice most aspects of Egyptian religion followed the same sense of order and stability, such as the explanations for the regular flooding of the Nile. This practice extended to their view of astronomy, such as with the alignment of the Pyramids to celestial events [19].

Gunnagalic cultures developed a complex set of complementary and sometimes contradictory belief systems to explain the irregular nature of their world. These religious beliefs varied over time and amongst the different cultures, since unlike Egypt, Gunnagalia did not develop a centralised belief structure [20]. [[Dubious. The complexity and syncreticism of Gunnagalic beliefs could be equally explained by lack of political unity as by consequences of irregular climate.]]

Nonetheless, Gunnagalic beliefs had some common elements, such as their view of time as a non-linear, ongoing process, and their belief in a variety of powerful spiritual beings who had influence over the world [21]. In Gunnagalia, religion became a search for permanence, a struggle for continuity. In time, this evolved into Plirism, a faith whose central tenet was the need to bring balance to the competing and often irregular forces of the world [22].

The connexion between order and disorder is further reflected in their respective systems of astronomy and astrology. Egypt, like most early civilizations, viewed astronomy based on a largely predictable annual cycle [23]. Egyptian astronomy began as a series of observations that predicted regular events, such as the heliacal rising of stars to foretell the Nile flood, and developed the required mathematics to predict other events such as eclipses. In common with most civilizations, Egypt also developed a form of astrology based on regular cycles (Decanic astrology), based on their underlying assumption of order [24].

With no meaningful basis for an annual cycle, Gunnagalic astronomy focussed on transient phenomena such as novas, comets, and meteors. Such irregular events might give some forewarning to the vicissitudes of drought, flood and wildfire. Gunnagalic astronomers gave little regard to regular astronomical events beyond the minimum of maintaining a calendar, but developed detailed records of transient phenomena [25]. Unlike other early civilizations, Gunnagalic astronomers did not even predict eclipses, treating them as merely another class of transient phenomena. Most tellingly, Gunnagalia was the only cradle of civilization which did not develop some form of cyclical astrology to predict the lives and times of people based on their dates of birth [26]. In their worldview, such predictability did not exist.

[18] As with most early civilizations, religion and astronomy were usually intertwined both in Egypt and Gunnagalia.
[19] While many of the more extreme claims of astronomical alignments for the Pyramids are rejected by mainstream scholarly consensus, some aspects such as its alignment with the cardinal directions are not disputed. See al-Azm (2004), pp398-412.
[20] Except for the state religion of the Watjubaga Empire (556-1124), and even this was largely imposed by the ruling elite and does not appear to have had popular belief, since its cult never endured after the withdrawal of imperial control from any given region. Refer also to Fletcher-Brown (1975), ch. 6.
[21] Baldock (2001), pp252-258.
[22] Plirism was a minority religion in most of Gunnagalia during the period under consideration, but its distinctive character was shaped by the geography and climate of the Nyalananga basin.
[23] Although Egypt's annual cycle was that of the Nile flooding, rather than the passage of the seasons as in most other early civilizations.
[24] McDonnell & Hibbert (2003), pp505-509
[25] This development was epitomised in the non-Gunnagalic peoples of south-western Aururia (the Atjuntja and their predecessors), whose records of transient astral phenomena were unmatched in the pre-telescopic world. Their records of meteor showers, comets and novas are a valuable source of astronomical knowledge even in the present day. Indeed, the Atjuntja were the only pre-telescopic people to discover Caelus [Uranus].
[26] In so far as it can be determined. Insufficient evidence remains to determine whether the Indus Valley and Caral civilizations had forms of astrology, although their descendant civilizations did. See also Fletcher-Brown (1975), pp187-191.

3.3 Political Conditions

Another distinctive feature of Egyptian civilization was its early political unification, due to the ease of transport on the Nile, and the geographical confinement to the Nile corridor and the Delta. In comparison to other cradles of civilization, Egypt united much earlier and remained politically united for most of its history, with only brief interruptions from foreign dynasties or local divisions. Most comparable early civilizations united much later, and had ongoing and much longer-lasting periods of division [27].

In comparison, the Nyalananga basin was politically disunited for most of its pre-Houtmanian history. Sources disagree as to whether this was a function of the rivers' more limited transport capacity and erratic flow, a consequence of its perennial agriculture allowing more per worker productivity and thus supporting greater armed forces, or simply a quirk of history [28]. Regardless of the reason, Gunnagalia is the only cradle of civilization which was politically disunited for most of its history, with only a brief interval of unification under the Watjubaga Empire.

These differences extended to the nature of political rule. Absolute monarchs were common in Egypt, since the geography fostered strong central control. Absolute monarchy was a rare concept in Gunnagalia, practiced only during the Imperial period, and even then abandoned well before that period ended.

[27] Consider, for example, Cathay, which did not politically unify until comparatively later, and which experienced much longer periods of political division (eg Three Kingdoms and Southern & Northern Dynasties periods). See Murray et al (1879), vol. 1, Chapters 6-10.
[28] Knight (1988), pp176-182; Sanford (1993), chs 4 &5; Munro (1996), pp88-90.

3.4 Role of Native Agriculture

Unlike other cradles of civilization, Egypt did not develop native agriculture, relying instead on plants domesticated in the Fertile Crescent. Nevertheless, its agricultural wealth was remarkable by ancient standards. With the endless fertility replenishments of Nile silt, and abundant water for irrigation, Egyptian farmers could produce two plentiful harvests each year [29]. The productive capacity of this land far exceeded any of the other cradles of civilization [30]. The time of the Nile flood, when the fields were inundated, also meant that there was a time when the labour of farmers could be utilised for other purposes.

Uniquely among agricultural systems, Gunnagalic agriculture used perennial plants as staple crops. Perennial red yams, cornnarts [wattles] and murnong required relatively less labour to plant and harvest. In turn, this meant that per worker productivity was higher than in most other agricultural systems, and permitted a larger percentage of the population to be supported in non-farming roles [31]. The requirements of perennial agriculture also encouraged a longer-term attitude to land management.

Thus, for different reasons, both civilizations' agricultural methods produced a larger labour surplus than other cradles of civilization. In both cases, this labour was applied to suit the elite's preferences; preferences which were themselves shaped by the climate and geography of the respective regions. Egyptian labour was used for monuments and other public works; Gunnagalic labour was applied to produce artificial wetlands and waterworks whose produce benefitted everyone, although the elite more than others. [[Good!]]

[29] McDonnell & Hibbert (2003), pp364-5.
[30] Hopkins (2008), p694
[31] Sanford (1993), ch 5.

3.5 Influence of Other Civilizations

Egypt remained geographically constrained in its avenues for direct expansion, due to desert barriers and other equally advanced peoples with a history of agriculture. Its proximity to other cradles of civilization and their descendants (Mesopotamia and the Indus Valley) meant that it did not develop in complete isolation. Egypt remained culturally conservative for most of its history; understandably, given the rhythms of climate and geography which encouraged a sense of stability. Nevertheless, the geographical proximity opened it to more influences, most notably the invasion of the Hyksos, who introduced chariots and composite bows to Egypt [32], and thus contributed both to technological progress and cultural contamination [33].

In contrast, Gunnagalia developed in isolation, separated both by distance and geographical barriers (deserts and oceans) from the nearest agricultural peoples. However, the local barriers were not so severe as they were in Egypt. This allowed Gunnagalia to expand its cultural influence over vast parts of Aururia during the Great Migrations (900 BC – 200 AD), with no significant competition except the minor Junditmara eel-farmers [34]. [[No! You're neglecting the major Junditmara contribution to early Nyalananga civilization: artificial wetlands were one of the earliest functions of civilization there, requiring social organisation and hierarchies, and were imported whole-scale from the Junditmara. You should be aware of this since Fletcher-Brown herself explains this – refer to Chapter 8, which describes aquaculture in detail.]]

The other facet of geography which affected contact with other civilizations was the difference in the Nile and Nyalananga river mouths. In common with all cradles of civilization which developed on river systems, Egypt and Gunnagalia had the convenience of an internal transportation network which allowed for rapid communication and commerce within their own borders. However, the Nyalananga had one important facet of riverine geography which distinguished it from the Nile and other major river systems: the Nyalananga is not navigable from the sea.

Without a clear outlet to the sea, Gunnagalia was inhibited in its development of oceanic shipping or commerce beyond the confines of their founding river system. This lead to a cultural predilection for land-based and riverine commerce to the neglect of open-water navigation, which persisted even when the Gunnagalic peoples expanded beyond the Nyalananga.

In comparison, Egypt had overseas commerce by the time of contact with the Minoans by 2000 BC, if not earlier, and also sent ships along the Red Sea. The Gunnagalic peoples remained largely land-based for centuries after the Great Migrations. Even when they did venture into the seas, they did so hesitantly. While a few Gunnagalic peoples developed some experience in navigating the open seas, principally the Nangu and Kiyungu, they were much more limited than comparative peoples in their commerce. It took the arrival of the external influence of Polynesian navigational techniques after 1310 to produce meaningful deep-water commerce amongst the Gunnagalic peoples [35]. [[You're neglecting another important facet of geography: the hostility of the open seas near Aururia. The Red Sea and Mediterranean Sea have much better weather and prevailing wind conditions than most of Aururia's coastal waters, which favoured the development of oceanic commerce in Egypt but hindered it in Aururia.]]

[32] McDonnell & Hibbert (2003), pp442-444.
[33] Using this word in a morally neutral sense, since the Hyksos invasion meant that their culture had spread into a different cell in the global cultural matrix.
[34] Fletcher-Brown (1975), pp188-196.
[35] Ngahui (1987), pp213-218.

3.6 Global Cultural Contributions

The modern cultural influence of Egypt is often difficult to discern once their culture had fused with the broader West Eurasian matrix, except in directly Egyptian-inspired art and architecture. This is because Egypt had indirect influence through its transmission of ideas and technology into Greek and Arabic cultures, and thence to broader European and Middle Eastern cultures. Many technologies and fields of knowledge of Egyptian origin became widespread in other cultures, such as papyrus, mathematics, glass-working and astronomy [36], although these influences have been shaped and reshaped by the other cultures which transmitted them.

Gunnagalic culture was more limited in its fields of influence, due to its development as a distinctive culture for millennia, but that same isolation means that even after its culture fused into the broader global matrix, its influence is easier to trace. The Gunnagalic preoccupation with finding meaningful outcomes during uncertainty led to a field of practical inquiry in medicine, and to physicians who were in many respects more advanced than those of their contemporaries elsewhere in the world, such as the first effective antiseptic [37]. Gunnagalic physicians also compared each other's success in treating medical cases, which in time led to the concept of peer review, and which generalised to the comparison and evaluation of modern science. [[No! These comparison methods were not exclusive to Gunnagalic doctors. Medieval Islam had a similar practice, and it didn't lead to a scientific revolution there. The practices of the Gunnagal may have led to modern peer review (an arguable case), but they were not exclusive to the Nyalananga Valley civilizations, so you haven't built a case that this is due to any of their features of geography and climate.]] Gunnagalic long-term land management, a derivation of their perennial agriculture, has also inspired much of the modern conservation movement [38].

The field of religion is one of the most significant contributors to cultural development [39]. In this aspect, Gunnagalia made a much greater contribution to the modern cultural matrix than Egypt. Native Egyptian religion, due to its particular development in an ordered geography, became much more bound to its particular land. It did not naturally adapt to other regions, and did not develop into a form which made religious expansion suitable. Egyptian religion did not have much influence on broader culture, with the minor exception of some individual and short-lived cults such as that of Isis in Greco-Roman society [40].

In comparison, Gunnagalic religion, in the form of Plirism, proved to be more versatile in adapting to the wider world, since it first needed to adapt to the changing geography and unpredictable climate of its own region, and the competing political entities of a region which was geographically harder to unify. This led to a faith which became one of the world's few evangelical religions, and which after European irruption spread far beyond its original geographical confines to become one of the world's major religions [41].

[36] Harrison (1986), pp156-161.
[37] Iverson (1992), pp282-284.
[38] Blunt (2004), pp8-10.
[39] Didomede (1992), pp45-48.
[40] Egyptian religious influence was limited unless Hartwood's thesis is correct, namely that Atenism was an influence for the founding of Judaism, and thus indirectly all of the Abrahamic religions. Mainstream scholars reject this interpretation, however. Refer to al-Azm (2004), ch. 12, for a review.
[41] Plirism is either the fourth or the fifth-largest religion in the modern world, depending on how adherents of Buddhism are calculated. [[A source or two would be nice here.]]

  1. Conclusion

The Nile and the Nyalananga centre on two regions with vastly different climates and geography, and which shaped two of the cradles of civilization. The combined influence of order and chaos, of regularly and unpredictability, of geographical isolation or proximity, produced two distinctive civilizations which both contributed to the modern cultural matrix.

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al-Azm, Youssef Pasha (2004). New Perspectives in Egyptology. Cairo: Basirah

Baldock, Y.B. (2001). "Religious Iconography and Beliefs in Classical Gundabingee". Journal of Gunnagalic Studies 44(2): 242–268.

Baxter, Martin (1978). Progression and Purpose: Understanding Modern Society Through Its Cultural Antecedents. New London [Charleston, South Carolina]: Unwin & Allen.

Blunt, R. (2004). Seeds of Conservation: Managing our Future. London: Sinclair & Blackford.

Didomede, Juno (1992). One Out of Many: The Development of the Global Cultural Synthesis. London: Hoover House.

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Hopkins, Verity (2008). New Learnings on Early Origins: What Archaeology Tells Us. Cumberland: Moths Head Press.

Hubbard, Douglas R. (1999). Toward Explaining Human Culture: Findings From the Fusion of Disciplines. Oxford: University of Oxford Press.

Iverson, Courage (1992). Finding the Balance. Cumberland: Cosmic Hand.

Knight, W. (1988). The Classical Gunnagal. Libra [San Francisco]: Monte Verde.

Lawson, Concord (1959). Surviving the '52 Floods. Jugara [Victor Harbor, South Australia]: Black Dawn.

McDonnell, Jamis & Hibbert, E. E. (2003). Social Atlas of Ancient Egypt. Horeb [Providence, Rhode Island]: Benedict Clayton.

Munro, B. (1996). Crossing Over. Acevedo [Albuquerque, New Mexico]: Winterhome.

Murray, Peter; Crawford, Hannibal; & Boyd, John (1879). An historical and descriptive account of Cathay. London & Edinburgh: Gordon & Porter. 3 volumes.

Ngahui, Gloire (1987). Ancient Navigators in Polynesia. Maunga [Auckland, New Zealand]: Duchesne.

Sanford, Julius (1993). Cannon, Clocks and Crops: The Destinies of Human Societies. Newport [New Haven, Connecticut]: Winthrop & Jessup.

Trevitt, Christobel (1982). Ancient Egypt: Dissecting a Civilisation. Cologne: Weisspferd.

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