Chapter 37
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Chapter 37
The Deadly White Mountains
The Deadly White Mountains
It is said that when you visit the Elysian Valley, you will note two things. First, how fertile the land is. The great forests, gradually fading into farmland and wealthy settlements. Those who live in this wondrous valley do not want for much. At least, once Roman farmers grew accustomed to local conditions and local crops. The Valley is the breadbasket of Roman civilization, for a very good reason. This land and the rivers that feed it are the lifeblood of a resurgent Empire, and in large part why the Romans often proudly claim their new home to be a 'new Eden'.
However, the second thing to note is in the very name itself. The Elysian 'Valley'.
This great and fertile land is surrounded by imposing mountains. The Romans call them Chióni Vouná[1]. The Spanish coined the term 'Sierra Nevada' when they visited Roman lands. Regardless of what you call these peaks, they dominated the area. In fact, to my understanding, even the Romans treat them with wary respect. For many years, no men would dare venture deeply into those mountains. Those who did would, quite often, never return. Only the bravest, or perhaps most foolish, of men would do so. Nonetheless, with the more familiar native peoples to call upon, these mountains would only be a barrier for a time. Not forever. By the time I visited this great land, they were no longer as deadly as they once were. Worthy of respect
Certainly.
But not an impossible barrier. Not to those familiar with the land.
- Journal of Duarte Neves, 1564
The Snowy Mountains. A quaint name, when translated from the more common Greek or Spanish terminology. These mountains, ringing the Elysian Valley, had long dominated the minds of Roman explorers. While Romans, of Greek or Italian stock, were hardly unfamiliar with mountains...these were different. For long stretches, there was simply nothing. No men, few animals, and few trees. Hard granite and other such stone, with the odd spot of green or blue poking out. The desolate parts of the mountains gave rise to another name. The 'White Death', once translated from the native Greek. It is said, even to this day, that anyone brave enough to travel these paths is a fool. It is easy to get lost and turned around, with no landmarks to speak of. And those unfortunate souls who do so?
They would find no respite. The cold stone would give no food, no shelter, and no care for their plight. Many an explorer ventured into the wastes and never returned. From the early days of the Empire, all the way to the modern day, where all modern methods of travel or location finding failed them.
Now, of course, that is only part of the Mountains. There are other areas, vibrant in their life.
Beautiful lakes, surrounded by thriving forests. Some native tribes even chose to willingly live in the mountains, isolated from those in the Valley. However, even these were generally few and far between, by comparison. A great lake to the South of the Valley might have had a greater population than anywhere north of Meosoarcadia.[2] The mountains, for their part, were a great barrier to even the native people of Elysium. Even those that chose to live in the mountains stuck to certain passes. Where the land was more forgiving, and where they could live through even the bitter winters that made other passes deadly. These tribes, and their passes, would prove important in later years. For the early years, though?
It should be little surprise that such imposing spires formed a 'natural border' for the Roman Empire in its early days. From Constantine, to Alexios, to Heraklonas, there was little desire to push past the Chióni Vouná. The Roman population was, plain and simply, not large enough to create a push in that direction. The Elysian Valley, and the coastal areas thereof, was enough. Even when the population did increase, in the reign of Heraklonas? The situation would prove to be much the same as it was for northern exploration. Simply put, why dare dangerous mountain passes, when one could hop on a boat to Dragases? Or even further, to the warm and pleasant lands of the Purépecha?
With this in mind, it is hardly surprising that the Mountains became the border of the Empire. It provided a firm dividing line, between Elysium and the lands beyond. It was a dangerous place to explore, even with native aid. And save for the rich gold mines in the foothills, there seemed to be little of value in the peaks. It was why the Romans under Alexios cared little for pushing the boundary. And Heraklonas, with his general aversion to exploration in general, continued that pattern. Contact with the natives actually familiar with the land, ironically enough, reinforced this decision. The tribes that made their livelihood in the mountains were quite willing to tell what they knew. They were, actually, quite peaceful and willing to help as a general rule.
It was simply that the 'help' amounted to telling the Romans how far the mountains truly spread. For hundreds of mílion, the mountains continued. There were gaps, certainly, and the severity of the peaks would change depending on where one went. Nonetheless, through differing ranges, the mountains of Arcadia continued on. And even when one reached the end of those mountains?
Well, very few of the natives knew much of that. They remained close to home, and those who traveled to their villages often came from other mountain tribes. What was spoken of, were great plains, stretching as far as the eye could see. Plains that were, for the most part, empty. The natives admitted to not knowing the truth themselves, simply relying on old tales spoken by those who had visited the lands past the mountain. Oral traditions and legends, mostly. Nonetheless, what they spoke of seemed distinctly unappealing for anything other than grazing animals.
Which the Romans lacked in great numbers, in addition to the difficulty of getting such animals across the mountains.
All of this added up to a general feeling that can best be summed up by Christos Sideris, an advisor to Emperor Heraklonas:
'What purpose is there, in braving the mountains that ring our realm? Were our ancestors not masters of the sea? If we must expand our realm, something our honorable Emperor believes to be a mistake for the time, why not take to the sea?
Leave the mountains to those who desire them. We gain nothing from such foolish endeavors, when riches- be they our own or those of Europe -come from the sea.'
Elysium, the land before the mountains, was enough. Or so the general feeling went, with no real pressure to expand. That would, and indeed did, change when the Roman population grew ever larger. However, during the reign of the First Three Emperors, that pressure simply wasn't there. It is a tale familiar to anyone who studies the early Arcadian empire, simply because it repeats across all routes of expansion.
This is not to say, mind you, that exploration did not happen. Simply that it was limited and only done by a brave few men and women.
Even if those explorers often died in the process. It was, after all, one such expedition that took the life of Demir the Turk, one of the most famous early explorers of the new Empire.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
So. These are the mountains I've heard so much about?
Holding a hand to his face, Demir frowned beneath the native furs covering his head. The expedition he had joined, led by Andronikos Katopodis, was in the process of packing up its latest camp. This expedition, founded by the Emperor Constantine himself, had departed Constantinople early in 1465.
It was, in turn, simply the latest in many expeditions that Demir had been part of. Constantine was quite interested in the land his prayers had given to his Empire. Both from genuine curiosity and, if Prince Orhan was to be believed, worry about potential threats. Demir knew little of that, as he remained a simple soldier, no matter how he explored. Although he was one of the Prince's most trusted men, and that was something to be proud of.
'Demir, I wish for you to remain on these expeditions. You shall be my eyes and ears among the Greeks. Should you discover land worthy of settling, you must inform me of it. I do not trust the Emperor, nor his men. We will only truly be free when we leave this accursed city.'
Demir had nodded along, although he frowned at his Prince's tone of voice. Prince Orhan had never truly recovered from their salvation. He had seen it as a punishment, being torn from the home and throne he saw as his birthright. Demir could understand it, although he valued his life enough to consider it a price worth paying. Perhaps he had simply not lived the same life his Prince had. Regardless, for the moment, his attention was more on the mountains. And on the sound of a man walking up next to him.
"Quite impressive, aren't they?" Katopodis, himself, spoke those words. The older Greek was staring at Demir with a thin smile, as he wrapped furs around his neck. "It's one thing to see them from the City or our outposts. Quite another to stand in the foothills."
Demir nodded along, returning his gaze to the snowy peaks above them. "I've heard every story from my friends about the mountains. They didn't do them justice."
Friends. That was what the natives were to him. It had begun as prejudiced Italians and Greeks, marking him as more 'uncivialized'. Believing his Turkish heritage meant he was more fitting to speak with the Ohlone. That had grated upon Demir at the time, certainly, but he had rather embraced it now. [3] Simple though they may have been, the natives of Elysium had a certain charm to them. And they certainly did not judge him for being different from the other Romans. He had made it a point, in turn, to learn as much as he could of the natives.
Case in point, a local man who simply called himself 'Wolf' walked up to them. "You are aware of the dangers you are heading into, yes?"
The local man was old and graying, as he tugged a bow over his shoulder. He was one of the few who knew this pass, and had been quite vocal about it being a poor idea to explore.
"I understand that," Demir spoke the same language back, while Katopodis simply raised an eyebrow. Not a single word meant anything to the Greek. The Turk, on the other hand, smiled slightly, "I'm not certain my friends do. I appreciate the warning, anyway."
Demir walked over to his newest native friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you coming with us?"
Wolf shook his head, "No. I have seen my fill of that pass when I was a much younger man. I will spend my last years here, where I can rest and enjoy the world around me."
With an understanding nod, Demir stepped back, "I can understand that. Sometimes, I think about it myself."
And that wasn't even a lie. Demir had grown to like the simple life of the Elysian natives. He had even considered, more than once, simply leaving and making a living among one of the tribes. Perhaps when this expedition was over…
"Well, is he going with us?" For now, though, Katopodis intruded back in. The man was looking at the mountain with a suitable amount of respect, and clearly wanted a guide.
The Turk could only shake his own head, "No, he won't. He says he saw enough of the pass for a lifetime when he was younger."
"That does not fill me with confidence." The Greek frowned, although he didn't seem too deterred by those words. In fact, he simply tugged his furs tighter and sent a long, lingering gaze at the tallest peak in the area. The snow-capped mountain seemed to have all his attention. Not that it was possible to miss it. "Well, no man ever discovered new lands by sitting around. Shall we set out now, Demir?"
For his part, Demir simply nodded, "From what I've been told, that is probably the best idea. We do not want to go through these mountains in winter. And that will begin soon."
As Katopodis nodded, Demir turned back to the silent old man beside them. Wolf returned the look, understanding what the men were talking about even if he didn't comprehend a word of the Greek language.
"This is something you will regret, my friend," was all he said, as the old man walked off to his home.
Demir watched him go. Perhaps we will. Katopodis is right, though. We won't learn anything by sitting around.
And with that, the Expedition gathered up their supplies. Thirty Romans, mostly Greeks, set off into the mountain pass…
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
…from which none of them would ever return. Exactly which pass the Katopodis Expedition explored is, to this day, something of a mystery.[4] They left a Roman border settlement, in 1465, and vanished into history. Records of the time are mostly gone, and what records remain don't give many clues.
Not that it would help much, even if they had. With centuries of shifting snow and ice, whatever remained of the party was likely lost long ago. Occasionally, a rusty sword or petrified fur will turn up. The legendary status of this expedition has led to many such things being pawned off as 'authentic Katopodis discoveries'. Quite often, these artifacts date to as much as a century after the Expedition vanished.
Similarly, local legends saying that Demir the Turk left the expedition to live among the tribes in the mountains are generally seen as false. Exactly what happened to the most famous member of the expedition is unknown. That, in of itself, has only added to the folk hero status of the man. Regardless of the actual fate of the expedition, it is just one of many cases of Roman explorers vanishing into the mountains. This was a dangerous place, especially for those unprepared for what they were going into. They earned their reputation in those early days.
As the 16th Century progressed, however, that reputation did begin to fade. Not entirely, no, but enough that more brave souls took to the mountains. In fact, when Emperor Leo ascended to the throne, one of many changes he made was a return to exploration.
He had a certain fondness for the mountains, in that regard. Heraklonas had a summer villa in the foothills of some of the more forgiving peaks. One for hunting, primarily, but one that Leo fell in love with. And, in looking up at the mountains, he wondered 'what was beyond them'. Not enough to make it a priority of the Empire, upon his ascension to the throne, but enough to fund more expeditions in the vein of Kataopodis. It wasn't as difficult to sell to his people as it may have seemed. The frontier Romans had long interacted with the natives who called the mountains home. In fact, these peaks were as much home to these Romans as they were to the natives. Quite a change from the early days of the Empire, perhaps, but an expected one.
And the safe passes, as much as 'safe' can apply to any of these, were well known by Leo's time.
It simply made sense to explore, at that point, although it was always done with a suitable level of caution. The story of Demir remained well known. And as the Romans pushed deeper into the mountains, they would learn more and more of the land they called home. A wide open land, mountains or no mountains, that had plenty of room to expand in. Especially following the rivers, further north.
Perhaps there wasn't much, other than natural beauty, to find. Mines were difficult and often not worth the effort, although these did spring up as well. And, occasionally, these did find something worth looking for. Something worth the effort of digging up with relatively primitive means, at high altitudes. That was very rare, however, and generally not worth relying upon. No, the more important part of this was simply learning more of the passes. Because those passes would become quite important, indeed, as the Roman state moved ever further East. And as they did so, they would come to learn that Demir had not been the only Turk to explore the mountain passes.
But that is, of course, for later.
____________________________________________________________________
1. Roughly 'Snowy Mountains'. A fitting name, considering how much snowpack could form upon the peaks of these mountains. Snow that was quite important to the local ecosystem, as it turned out, although it was more known for how dangerous it made passes in winter. Even the safer passes were often choked in snow, in particularly bad years.
2. Pa'ashi, 'Big Water', is a large lake to the south of the Elysian Valley. This lake was the center of the local culture, and could support a population rivaling some Mesoarcadian societies. Perhaps not to the same complexity, but certainly a similar population overall. That lake is incredibly important to the local culture and when the first Romans arrived, they were awed to see such a society thriving on the shores of the lake.
3. Demir the Turk's folk hero status among native tribes didn't come about for no reason. He had made it a point of learning as many languages as he could, and was generally at the forefront of the earliest Roman explorations. There is a reason he is remembered fondly, all the way to the modern day. His fate is a topic of much discussion because of this fact.
4. Records being what they are, no one is quite sure where the Katopodis Expedition ended up. Several passes, ranging from the safer to the more dangerous, have been suggested over the years. However, it is likely that this will remain a mystery. As established, whatever remnants left behind by the expedition have probably vanished over the years. It hasn't stopped searches, not even slightly, but it is highly unlikely that anyone will ever find out for sure.
AN: Right. Took longer than we wanted, but there's an update. Continuing the theme of Heraklonas not liking explorations, yes, but at the same time...
The Sierra Nevada range is not something you explore easily. Even the safer passes can be quite deadly if you aren't prepared, and that's not even touching on the more desolate areas. With a population that can comfortably survive in the Central Valley (and the coastal settlements) for some time yet, it doesn't make much sense for the Romans to put much effort into penetrating the mountains. Still, as the population grows larger, pressure will mount. Especially with competition against European colonies moving west.
That'll be fun.
