#nafrin

Nafrin have insane public works that utilize concrete to move and store immense amounts of fresh water, massive cities with a strikingly modern distribution system for fresh, potable water; and these huge, ornate temples to the 4 cardinal deities. I mean, like, imagine if the freemasons had concrete during the medieval era, and four distinct gods to stylize.

Ijosai build cities using fast-growing mangrove trees, and volcanic rock that survive in salt-water, even making a few (beautiful and frankly scary) floating gardens that can float/be sailed/rowed from one island to another. That doesn’t even touch their giant catamaran battleships with teams of rowers and huge, tall sails.

Davien build these amazing sandstone temples and structures, and have amazing agricultural techniques that are literally de-desertifying the desert. I’m talking complex irrigation systems that include movement of river sediment and the importation of peat, clay, and fertilizers through these engineered locks and canals and clay pipes. 

Cranid build whole CITIES suspended between the walls of canyons, just, like networks of bridges and beautifully carved blocks of limestone that almost seem to “float” on reinforced cabling, and “garden walls” that are literally gardens that are dead-ass vertical facing the south.

Avur have these massive “houses” that are more like keeps/walled cities that just rise out of the firmament made of wood and stone, where you can go the entire day shopping and never touch the actual ground. Like, multi-level roads and 5-7 storey tall buildings, all surrounded by stone and coated in fire-resistant stucco, so they’re these giant, brightly colored condensed cosmopoli.

The Mortei build less extravagantly, but that belies their beauty; I mean who else but a Mortei could build an unassailable city with no great stone walls? Yet, ask the Avur if they’d like to try to lay siege to it, and watch them shrink in memory of their defeats. I’m talking a city that, if you don’t know exactly where to look, you can’t bloody find, and is surrounded by earthworks, moats, and man-made swamps which are cultivated to purposely host the nastiest nasties imaginable, and be essentially fireproof. 

The Elemeis can make and break “camp” in a few hours, where “camp” is a literal mobile garrison. Just, you look away and then -bam- Elemeis have a fortress that seems to rise directly out of the ground.

The Terran have these astoundingly efficient caravans (so efficient that other races have done all they can to copy them) that can cross more ground in less time than even soldiers on forced march, despite including women and children in their composition. 

The Nafrin Republic is structured into a rough hierarchy, based around “client states” or “protectorate provinces” and the management of those provinces.

There are three kinds of “state” in the Nafrin Republic;

The True/Real State

This state is the singular state which contains the capitol, houses the Senate, and the main governing offices of the Republic. it is controlled by the Senate directly.

The Citizen States 

These are states which themselves are comprised of mostly Nafrinan peoples (excepting slaves/servants). These are controlled by governors, chosen by the Senate; these governors have total authority over the law in their province, subject only to the True State, or the members of the higher government. A governor is responsible for providing the True State with tax revenue from the citizen state, and is responsible for negotiating the terms and form of that taxation, be it material, labor, or simple gold. 

The Client States

These are states in foreign lands, or on the edge of the territories; these states are often controlled by a local leader, who then answers to a governor. Being a governor of a client state is not considered to be as high an honor as being a governor of a citizen state. Often commanders of armies who have secured the client state through war are given preferential selection when choosing who will be the governor. Lie above, the governor is responsible for securing revenue, but they have less direct control over the laws or the populace; as they must work through the appointed local leader. Many times, local traditions, religions, and laws are left in place; though many local leaders which are selected are selected in order to push the client state in line with Nafrinan ideology. 

In both cases, the governor is selected at the whim of the Senate, and can be replaced at the very same will, with a term of 4 years being most common. A selected governor can refuse control of a province, though it is seen as very rude to do so if being offered it for the first time. 

All governors may, at the discretion of the Senate, raise an army from their people, either to put down rebellions (often of neighboring states, with the prize of having a larger territory and spoils from looted clients) or to expand the Nafrinan territory into foreign lands. 

Davien tactics do not abide any rule of honor, or any sense of formality, or rigor of discipline. Their soldiers, to a man, are wily, cowardly things, and their measures in combat are like that of the animal, howling and striking and running with all the glee of men posessed.

So did Zerinus find himself in their homeland, his soldiers encountering little in the way of real resistance, and instead suffering nightly and incessant ambushes. Sometimes one upon another, as if the first was naught but a diversion to draw attention from the second.

Sentries would be found, their blood scattered in wide arcs and circles, the men responsible long gone. When caught and questioned, they smiled, sometimes even laughed; often entreating the men who captured them as close friends. A few made the mistake of loosening their guard; the manacles they first bound their cpatives in proved unusually effective as weapons. Several had their skulls caved in by such improvised weapons, or were choked to death before the Davien, with not so much as a sound, slipped into the night, only to strike again.

Zerinus long ago exchanged manacles for ropes, and then for the end of a sword. It was his very strong opinion that the Davien were not of a race of upright being, but some fell creature, spawned, as it was said, by the roan and muddy soil carried by the river that cut through their land like a knife.

Finally, after many months of long toil and forced march in the desert, only resupplying through convoy trains and through shipped food and water, did they reach the first settled town. Zerinus chose, in his wisdom, to wait for the break of the next day to lay siege; maps extracted from what few Davien were willing to talk suggested a river must be forded before they could reach the walls of the city, not some 2 miles ahead.

It was near dusk when the glint of their weapons was first visible. An alarm was raised, all the men had a fervor in their hearts to be met in real battle, to finally test the mettle of this, so slipper of an enemy.

The force they were faced with was small, but Zerinus, being a man with little desire for risk, committed his men to the task; three whole columns of infantry, their weapons glinting and armor polished to a mirror sheen, advanced.

Against such an overwhelming force, the roan men, with so small a number, were little but fodder. They quickly broke, falling to rout, and the men advanced, eager to exact revenge for their endless tribulations and receive the bounty each Davien carried; bracers of gold, chains and hoops of silver and fine silken cloth.

They embarked down a hill in hot pursuit, and it is only then that Zerinus grew wary, and called for a halt. But the leeward side of this ridge was steep, and slick. The first men who tried to stop fell and were trampled by others who were carried on by the weight of their equipment, or were unwilling to heed the order in the sight of such bounty and so haggard by frustration.

The first men who fell upon the river bed did so at a great pace. Their boides sunk, even up to the waist at times, into the muddy earth, their torsos carried forward by the onrush of men now moving too fast to stop. And yet, they had seen the Davien cross this very patch of land mere moments before.

Many men cried treachery, sorcery, that mystics had been roused to turn the earth to mud, Zerinus’ keener eyes, even in the falling dusk spotted the true cause. the Davien had build earthen fords in the riverbed, only as wide as a man’s gait. He ordered his men onto the fords, but even as he did, the sound of arrows filled the air. The Davien had made such a contrivance; with their true numbers massed at the opposite bank, hurling missiles and making rude entreatments to the men so assailed. They called to Zerinus, as one man, shouting a chant in their tongue, and then in the speech of Sarganus; Zerinus’ own home tongue.

“Only 2 miles!” they roared, boastingly.

Only then did their deception show through. Each Davien that gave up the lay of the land mentioned the river they now found themselves mired in, as being only 2 miles from the city, and thereby so much further away.

The men on the river were forced to make an arduous climb up the steep bank, or suffer the missiles of the Davien assembled opposite them, those that tried to pass along the fords were struck down by roan men with spears at the other end. 

Still, the master of his forces and a skilled commander, Zerinus organized his men and pulled them from the brink of rout, driving them up the bank by roaring his own invectives to them, calling them hasty children for not following his order. Spurred by their shame and further by his order that any man with an arrow in his back was to be left in the desert with no care or burial, they reformed, and retreated in force up the hillside, though at some great casualty.

But the sun was still in the sky, and Davien warfare knew no niceties.

Only as they retreated, did they see the flames of the camp, their supplies, the few men left garrisoned slaughtered by forces that seemed to appear out of nowhere and equally quickly vanish into the desert.

Of the ones left, several had words carved into their back by a knife or such a weapon.

“Altesh Take Your Blood.” It read.

There was no rest for the men. By night, as if by some spell or other trick, Davien would appear on the heads of dunes, shouting calls, hurling single missiles into the camp, killing sentries and rousing the men to action only to evaporate. Hour by hour it continued, Zerinus and his men clashing as to what to do. The men wanted to seek these assailants out, but Zerinus was wary of another ambush like the one they had just barely weathered.

The next morning, he was greeted by his scouts in a utter panic. From both sides a sizable force encroached.Under the cover of darkness and the distraction of the Davien night-raiders, the assembled force on the bank, along with 1 column of light cavalry and infantry, had crossed the river through some other means, and had circumvented their position. To their south lie the river, impassable by men and material in any great number. To their north and east lie a sizable force with cavalry skilled in chasing routed men down, and to the west waited the desert and then the brackish ocean.

A parlay was made, and it was Zerinus, his Lictors, and his secretaries, who conveyed themselves to this meeting.

They were met by equal numbers, men in exotic clothes, with bangles and other trappings of Davien status and wealth, save for one, who was a tall and swarthy sort, his unkempt hair seeming almost wild. He wore armor akin to the Legionares own, but also had an gold collar around his neck.

So spoke this man, “Lo, Zerinus. I am Altesh sen Daveis tal Daveis, breaker of chain and yoke, son of the light, sire of no Davien and patriarch of all roan men. Where my people’s strength has shattered fetters, it has become gold, where we have rent chains, they have become silks, where my people’s blood has spilled, so nothing shall grow. So, speak, oh Zerinus, so that I may hear your reason to tread so heavily on this land.”

Zerinus knew of the man who spoke, Altesh, the leader of the rebellion, a man who must have been many years his senior, yet to all eyes there, did not look anything but the same age as him. He inquired, in as plain a speech of a soldier, of the mans youthful appearance, and his attire, which contrasted the rest of his men.

So spake Altesh; “For my attire, I carry a blade, stout armor, cloths which suit my temperament, and this gold collar; a reminder to all that I was once the slave of men like you, and now am instead a willing slave of my people. Unlike your masters, your kinds and emperors and petty men, I serve ll my people, and their interests are my own. Mark, now, Zerinus, my people, to a one, desire no further strife or bloodshed, even upon your own brow. Take stock and know that while we may not desire your blood, we will gladly offer it so long as your sword points to our flesh. Turn away, Zernius, and no shadow, no spirit, no roan man will harry you. You will find safe passage and I will give you guides to return from whence you came, unharmed. No man will fault you for being so brave as to come only 2 miles from death, for who among them can say they have traveled so far to stop at only 2 miles?”

Zerinus inquired, again, to Altesh, “And what of your youth; for it is known that you are many years my senior, and I am a man of venerable age myself. Yet you appear to be no older than my youngest Lictor, who ages 26 this year.“

Responded he, “My youth is of no artifice or trickery, I know not how I posses it; but why I have held this body to well is clear. It is to drive you and your men out of this land, oh honorable and brave Zerinus. And when you flee, if that is to break the spell and all my years are to come for me, then so be it; for you will be gone and my people will be safe. So again, I say unto you, to turn back Zerinus, turn away in peace and receive a safe passage home.”

Zerinus, incensed by this mans long speech and treacherous guise, spake thus, “Mark you, your disrespect and trickery now, Altesh, or so-called. Your host holds naught but cowards, your Davien flee in battle and hold no rank nor have no love of glory. What, then would you suggest will occur when my men, so sharpened by our trials, and desirous of your blood to slake our thirst, will prefer to reach to yours with sword and spear? Will your roan men run, as they always have, then; and flee until there is naught to flee to?”

Suddenly there was as if a fire in the breast of Altesh, his visage glowering even in the day’s sunlight, “If you seek to slake your thirst, then I will respond in kind from the blood of your brow, and all will remember your foolishness for choosing this moment to doubt the word of the Davien, when you so wholeheartedly believed them before.”

Zerinus, knowing his defeat if the host of Altesh were to give even half a fight, for the last nights excursions had filed their nerves thin and had weakened their bodies with effort of battle, was all but assured, was possessed by no small aspect of Urseus, protected as he was, by the anger in his heart and the entreatment of his Lictors to return and ready for battle. He accepted the terms of Altesh, to return whence he came, with aid of a guide who would convey them to the edge of the wastelands at the terminus of Davien territory.

-Written as a Nafrinan Nobleman, serving his required military service with distinction in the winged cavalry legion.

It is a great thing, be so laurel’d with honor the blackened wings upon my brow. I must admit, though, it is not a means of service for any mere man.

For as a initiate, you are made to strengthen thyself, and to slaughter and butcher the goat and beef which makes the feedstock of this, the greatest of our military assets, and to take great care in feeding, lest, like some vainglorious fools, to lose a limb to their gnashing teeth.

And lo, these dragons, they are dumb, stupid, brutish beasts, and you learn, quickly, that the only way to sort them is to be equally brutish. They have no love for their rider, I have seen even a close team whose steed turned upon it’s rider in the heat of battle. It is not like a horse, or any other simple beast, which can be cowed and can be even slightly trusted in it’s temperament when fully disciplined, but instead it is risible to ill humors at any moment and at any measure.

All this aside, if one can make it; mucking the stalls, wrestling the wyrmlings, cowing the adolescent, and saddling the full wyrm, one gains a vantage and a strength of will not known to simpler men.

I never understood the seriousness, the ferocity, of these men, until I became one of their ranks. A bit of the beast rubs off on you, a bit of the fury and nobility of crashing down from on high from whence you’ve loosed one of the red-tailed javelin, or glittering sling missiles. You see men as ants, as specks on the earth to be strafed and razed with fire and claw and lance and sword.

I know my mount, I knew that which sire’d it and I raised it with a firm grasp and did so to make it strong. I knew not how great the tutelage that such an act placed me under, for now, with my own son, I am less pliant, more stern, and he stands all the more capable for my rigor, even as he is so young. I have seen my son as a man sees an ant, as a wyrm sees a wyrmling, and that has hardened my heart, to the woe of my wife, but to the boon of my line.

I have no love for this beast, my steed; no more than it has love for me, nor more do I have a love for battle or conflict. If unseated I would assume to be snatched up by the very wings which bore me into battle, but I know this, and it, in it’s damnable heart, knows this, and knows neither may waver or the other will spring forth and strike. But in moments, in the time when my red-tailed javelin is let fly, we roar and fly as one.

I will be a happy man when I am freed of this charge, when I can cover my scars with a cowl and turn to a quieter life, free from this canny beast.

(These are subject to change as I do more research).

This assumes an Adult, Pure-Bred, Nafrinan War Wyvrn.

Length, Shoulder to Foreknuckle = a = 2-2.5 meters

Length, Shoulder to Haunch = 2a

Length, Nostril to Base of Neck = h = .75a

Length, Base of Neck to Shoulder = 0.5a

Length, Shoulder to Shoulder = 0.5a

Length, Haunch to Tip of Final Tail Bone = (2.5a+h)

Length, from Foreknuckle to Tip of Wing = w = 3.5a

Length, Wingspan = s = (2w+2.5a)

Weight =  2.5*(s^2) kilograms

Total Average Length = 13.25 meters or 43 feet (jesus, I may have to tweak that)

Total Average Wingspan = 21.375 meters, or 70 feet (again, that’s...really big, I may make these things a BIT smaller)

Total Average Weight = 1142kg or 1.26 US tons.

A family of 6 needed around 3 hectares of arable land for subsistence living (assuming temperate or warmer climate with regular rainfall).

A family of 6 with animals to help work the land needed around 5 hectares of similar land to make a subsistence living.

In the Nafrin Empire, most land is owned by nobles, and parceled into sharecropping farms, which are taxed at anywhere between 20-35% of their yield, due yearly at harvest time.

1 hectare of arable land yielded anywhere from 600 to 1400kg of wheat (from 130kg of seed), with the average in decent weather being around 1200kg.

A high noble often had from 110 to 200 hectares of land to tax.

Per hectare, that means around 100 Denarit per year per of income for a Noble, through taxes. 

Or around 16,500 Denarit for a 165 hectare farm, or $957,000 in today’s money (equivalently).

That’s literally only what they made from taxing/charging rent to their farmers. 

Interestingly, the Davien (because of their agricultural prowess/technology, as well as being able to nearly double-up their crops per year) manage to yield more like 1700-2200kg of wheat per hectare, per year. 

(Note; actual names of each class of people will be forthcoming, I’m working on the Nafrinan language right now to have some bones to lay down)

Slaves:

Essentially chattel slaves. Most often prisoners of war. Unskilled laborers. Not as common as one would think, as unskilled slaves are considered unseemly/a sign that the owner has no skill in teaching slaves.

Servants:

One rung up from chattel slavery. Servants are often skilled, and have some rights and protections in law. They are considered property of their masters. Each slave has one day a week which they can use to work for themselves, to buy their freedom. It is unlawful to kill a servant without reason, though in practice this is mostly ignored. Masters gain status by having literate, skilled slaves, and will more often than not educate them in skilled work.

Free People:

Any person who is not a Servant or Slave. Essentially same rights as a servant; except they have no master, and may buy and own property/land. They do not have the right to vote, to participate in politics, or to become enobled.

Free Nafrin:

Any Nafrin who is not a Servant or Slave. The same as a Free Person, but they can become enobled, and can participate in some politics (not much though)

Lower Noble:

Members of the Equestrian class, lower priests, accountants, mages, merchants; essentially people with enough power or money to petition the empire to give them a lower title of nobility. Should always be addressed as “Lord/Lady” by Free People and below, or by a similar honorific title befitting their occupation. They may participate in politics, have family heraldic emblems, and vote.

Higher Noble: