#cascatober

Even in the present day, maintaining the cultivated regions in which settled civilizations thrive is no simple matter. It was and continues to be a sad reality that the thin, brittle edges of nations are oft snapped away and chewed up by the peripheral wilderness. Beasts, demons, reflected, pests, or simple harships of the frontier can all cause a settlement and its surrounding areas to be lost. So, how does one keep the bubble from collapsing?

Logistics. Ancient Cuplanders were masters of robust systems of overland delivery- out of necessity- and that tradition has persisted into the modern day. Rebuilding and resettlement is a constant enough need for dedicated infrastructure, that which can persist in the wilderness and facilitate its reclamation.

Many ancient Cuplands cultures solved this with heavy granite trackways, grooved slabs arranged in lines stretching hundreds of miles; vast networks spanning like spiderwebs from urban centers that persist to this day. Long, costly, and labor intensive, these wonders of antiquity were of vital significance to our forebears. For on these, one could employ the backbone and spearhead of resettlement in the ancient Cuplands- the track fortress.

Rolling strongholds akin to galleons on land, track fortresses contain ample berthing for settlers and escorts, as well as spacious cargo holds for the provisions and supplies needed to rapidly clear and resettle an area. This was often done with multiple fortresses, stopping for months at a time and providing shelter to hundreds of people while a defensible village was built up around the trackway. Alternatively, track fortresses made excellent transports for large or sensitive cargo in the interior. Even today, few bandits would dream of assaulting a fully equipped mercantile track fortress.

Track fortresses are largely unique to the Cuplands, enabled by Cuplanders' inheritance of the domestic Nyoro- great beasts of incredible burden. The size and strength of these draconids give them resilience comparable to the track fortresses themselves, a must in wilds harboring formidable predators.

While gradually being replaced by the Arterial Steelway, one can still see track fortresses in use in less developed regions. Many roads still exist in areas claimed by Primordial Wilderness; following them is a sure way to find ruins and stories untouched by the canny eye for centuries, or more.

The track fortress pictured above is of Kunoese make, and the Icon of Vees suggests it is around 850 years old. Early in the Posthuman settlement, many of the few remaining humans turned to banditry to survive. The Icon, then, was a potent psychological repellent against what was then a common problem.

Debate over the true cause of the Second Act of the Canny Era's end has recently largely ceased. The youngest Second Act ruins discovered, dating to some 22 and a half millennia old, contain a plethora of artifacts such as these; curious armaments of heretofore unknown purpose, massed in dusty piles of what surely were once great warriors. Indeed, one of the oldest dreg lords ever recorded was slain with one in hand.

From the moment of their discovery, it was clear that hastlight weapons are, to some extent, alive; straightening when held, but otherwise bending like vines- searching for the pale light of a night sky. The blades possess strength and sharpness defying their appearance- though under the glow of Osselhast, Durahast, or Anahast, may catch and become sheathed in a strange, gleaming celestial substance. The congealed hastlight is exceptionally massy, yet weightless to the bearer, and unnaturally sharp. Virtually nothing is known of how this is achieved, and in all likelihood is forever lost to time. Those who wield them are unwilling to divulge the finer details of their activation. Nonetheless, the hastlight’s true purpose is clear. As a coalescence of the Strange Cosmic Medium, it is an ontologically blasphemous stuff, a natural enemy of all things connected to divinity. Thus, fully roused hastlight is the world’s greatest bane of demon and divine servant, making little distinction between their flesh and empty air.

These and the charnel ruins at Harhellian’s Putrefaction (see p. 62) clearly support the Critical Animus hypothesis. This posits that in the twilight years of the Second Act, the beckoning of multiple Imagos of Hate sparked a mounting cascade of worldwide misery. In the midst of being broken upon a wheel fueled by the pain it inflicted, the wise and the mighty devised many answers, hastlight weapons among them. Judging by their modern performance, they were devastatingly effective.

But insufficient.

“Have you seen those newfangled iron-hulled wheel ships? Those blood powered steamers what halt for no manner of beast nor squall? It seems the dockyard folk have managed to squeeze one of those great steelway engines ‘neath the deck of a ship, at long last. Lot more money to be made in shipping these days since they expanded the locks at old Arnhest- boats’ve swelled in turn, but I didn’t think I’d live to the day sailin’s optional. The drafts’re shallow too- can go all the way from Kulske to Visennes by way of Coriol in winter if ye wanted. Used to be you had to stay in sight of coast and watch for coel’ans, all hours, every day. Now there’s talks’ve opening regular lines all the way to Skjop. That’s bluewater- madness, even for a steel monster like that. Beasties can’t crack yer keel- sure. But they’re creative. Last thing ye want to be on the high seas is stimulatin’.”

Chuul-Minnuki, sometimes known as the Songbird, is a type of naturalized reflected thought to originate from the middle Second Act, if not earlier. Quick, quiet, but not especially strong, the Songbird is especially suited for tackling small (<175kg) prey by ambush. To this end, the Songbird exploits social behaviors, imitating various calls and forms of vocal communication it picks up from its quarry to isolate individuals and heighten their vulnerability. The intelligence of Chuul-Minnuki is not equal to the canny, but not far behind, either. Given enough time and exposure, Chuul-Minnuki can develop a rudimentary understanding of canny languages. Those with ample experience can even string together sentences and imitate full voices based on very fragmentary samples. Scattered reports and tales tell of Chuul-Minnuki capable of holding conversations, but no empirical evidence has substantiated this. In all likelihood, these are cases of sated Songbirds aiming to improve their understanding of canny vocalizations through verbal prompting.

“…Modern evidence indicates that tundra korogi did not go extinct rapidly. The oldest oral traditions among Tabulan steppe korogi date to the beginning of the Second Act, 55,000 years ago. Such tales hint at the existence of 'fair feathered' strangers- thousands of years after the as-yet unknown cataclysm that ended the First Act and was thought to have killed off the tundra korogi. It is likely, then, that the dwindling subspecies was absorbed by their sympatric cousins, existing today in the genes of Tabulan steppe korogi. This explains, among other things, the far larger manes of Tabulans relative to other steppe korogi populations. Why the Tabulans of old described tundra korogi so favorably is unknown, but it is thought to be the advantages of long integument for child rearing. For the first few years of life, a steppe koroglet is a bit useless. Effectively a chirping stomach with legs, they are built to keep up with their parents' habit of large and infrequent meals while also maintaining the highest early-life growth rate of any canny species. For a nomad in the cold Tabulan steppe, this means carrying them near constantly. Tabulans already carry quite a bit on their backs in day to day life, and typically need their hands free; one frequently sees modern Tabulans draping or wrapping young family members in their manes to easily carry and keep them warm. Often times they are distributed among multiple family members, as fresh hatchlings may not recognize their siblings and attempt to eat one another. One can then see why the late tundra korogi, with their extensive plumage, may have been unanimously seen as appealing parents and life partners by the inter-act and early Second Act korogi of the Tabula Steppelands. Having effectively bred tundra korogi out of existence, some canny taxonomists are unsure whether or not Tabulan steppe korogi themselves should now be considered their own subspecies."

Bound to the sea thine kin shall be, when the Seawyrm visits thee.

Don thine finest manner, brandish not thine sword

Keep humble, keep quiet, in the presence of the Lord.

O mighty! O monster! Grandest beast of all!

Before thee crawls a worm, wretched and small!

Feared by herons, loathed by gods, known by none that be!

But we, frail folk of the sea, ever dote upon ye!

All praises unto the Apostate, to lurk ever in the depths

Our lord, our master, remember us at world’s end!

Old Kri'Annan mariner's rhyme- some verses translate poorly to English.