Seems like we're heading towards bloodshed on the holy grounds one way or another. May the one who draws first blood be condemned to eternal damnation. As ever your descriptions of the landscape are marvelous to behold.
Seems like we're heading towards bloodshed on the holy grounds one way or another. May the one who draws first blood be condemned to eternal damnation. As ever your descriptions of the landscape are marvelous to behold.
The scene is set for a confrontation - or perhaps a negotiation, if neither side is willing to fight on holy ground? I wonder if custom and their sense of honour will compel them to agree to fight in an alternative location. Either way, I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen!
Thanks Swaeft, and now I see what you are saying. I won't say too much in response, as I like to avoid spoilers (not even gonna put any in spoiler tags ) but there should indeed be some tension building. In terms of the overarching story stuff, my main goals are not so much plot-oriented, but rather instead setting- and culture-oriented. In particular, one of the things I am trying to build toward is an extended depiction of desert life, and of the differences between settled and nomadic ways of life, with all of the laws and customs and acceptable behaviors that go with each of those. For me the battles and excitement are really more of a set-piece to keep things interesting while I explore that place and time to its fullest.
With regards to your latter point about what my plans are for Mun'at, I have few as of now. I mean, I have my own set goals for what I would like to aim for (those are also present in the first couple updates of the AAR, where Mun'at contemplates his mission and what he'll do afterward). However, if things don't work out, I will be okay with that as well. After all, I am still playing a game here
Yeah, that title has been running for a while now. But a new chapter title will be up soon, and I think it will put you in a state of great anticipation for what will come. But don't expect the next update too soon. I need to storyboard the coming events a bit, to make sure the Nabati and Saba' timelines splice into each other nicely. Mun'at's group has to move pretty far still, and I am figuring out how best to build up that slower-moving plot piece alongside the quick-paced palace intrigue going on down south.
Yeah, the Saba' have some burly units anyway (boss archers who also dual as heavy spearmen, if you can believe that!). Plus, I figured the troops of the northern clans, i.e. those aligned with Zaadi (a.k.a. Lord of the Northpass) would be particularly tough given their regular border toils against the Minaeans.
I was about 98% sure it was you who had brought that up, but I didn't want to point fingers. So thanks for doing that for me
To the logistics, I know they required thought and some planning, but for a nomadic band that would come fairly second nature. Also, and more importantly, there is some info I got from Seven Pillars of Wisdom to this point exactly. (Maybe T.E. Lawrence was not 100% honest in his reporting of the Arab Revolt, but I see no reason why he'd change the details about their marches and provisioning.) So here are Lawrence's words on the matter:
T.E. Lawrence
Granted, my band has footmen and horses as well, making them not quite as mobile and flexible as were Lawrence's rebels, but mine are also moving with a bit less haste, less enemy maneuvers corralling them in, and with a baggage train that can carry a good supply of provision. Put shortly, it would require care and forethought (as well as some assistance from locals), but it would almost certainly be possible.
We shall see, but I wouldn't be too sure about a scuffle here. Laws of neutrality about places or events are a serious deal, and no one would violate such things without having an astoundingly weighty reason.
Also, I'm glad you liked the scenery descriptions! I had particular fun in these last updates envisioning the passes and peaks of Hijaz, and I'm glad that came across well
Alwyn, as always your words are kind and insightful, and I can do no more than reiterate the things I said to Turk.
At any rate, I wanted to respond to all's y'all's, but the next update still needs some making. In particular, I need to think about the plot-lines of the coming chapter before committing anything to paper, but rest assured I am working on it!
Luck has it that I played a multiplayer battle with them against the Getai right around the time you posted that. The battle went something like this: Cookie attacks straight away and very aggressively, and he manages to defeat the enemy cavalry with his own camels, while the infantry envelop the enemy and completely surround them. Some masterful maneuvers if I do say so myself resulted in Cookie flanking him again and again and everywhere... Then Cookie just stared at the screen more or less passively for the next thirty minutes, as the Dacians just stood there like a rock in the tidal sea until the sea died out or retreated.
Same amount of money, same amount of soldiers (~5400 per side).
Unfortunately, that sounds about right. In comparison to many other factions, the desert units are not great, and once you get out of your core areas it is important to make good use of native units and mercs. However, within the Arabian sphere, the Saba' units are some of the best, along with Nabati lancers.
Long story short, putting raiders up against line infantry, especially barbarian line infantry, is likely to end badly.
So here I was, feeling a little less guilty because I was finally getting caught up with Special K's opus, and then I get to...
...written all the way back in May. Man, I'm such a jerk. I still want to do this btw. (Slightly less than I want to do a classic Hollywood epic-style poster for this with Omar Sharif as Mun'at. )
And this might be my favorite passage of the whole AAR so far:
Damn, bro! Stop making me wish I had written something!
Totally disagree. The whole “Et in Arcadia ego” motif, of juxtaposing death and pastoral fecundity, was a staple in English Romanticism and was the subject of Tom Stoppard's Arcadia, arguably one of the most influential plays by the most influential English playwright since George Bernard Shaw. This isn't an obscure reference, but rather one that has a long-standing symbolism in English-language literature. And to me, this fits the theme of WiS in general: the dichotomy of the still beauty of the desert and the bones hidden by the sand. And as your later point that Arcadia is a real, thriving geographic entity during this period, that doesn't negate a metaphorical use. Case in point, the movie Chinatown where Chinatown is both a real place, "alive and well", and also a metaphorical state of mind. You are WRONG, sir! Wrong, I tells ya!
Anyway, the tension is indeed building and I'm looking forward to what happens next.
Dude, don't worry about that. Back then you had more time and could plan to do something like that, but plans aren't contracts or in any other way binding. If you do at some point have the time to throw me some images you know I'd love that, but if not, your readership, critiques, and encouragement are more than I could hope for
Besides, I think I would rather see your own work continuing than have pics for mine. After all, I love your stories as much as you love mine, and I think my descriptions cover the imagery well enough so far. So you do you first!
Thanks for this! I wasn't sure about that bit when I first wrote it, but it is also growing on me. Fun fact, that whole sequence and this underlying line of thought of Mun'at's (which I plan to keep in the background throughout) is taken straight from T.E. Lawrence and his thoughts on the Arab Revolt and his part in it. His book has been a wellspring of inspiration and material, and I'd highly recommend it to anyone who is into epic literature (stuff like The Illiad).
Hah. I am glad you think it works Skotos. I will go back and see whether I want to change it back or not, especially as I think I still like "Arcadian" more. But Cook, I will still consider your points more as well. Both of you give good crits, and I take them all under considerationOriginally Posted by Cookiegod
I hope I can deliver on that. Right now a friend is visiting for a week, and he has some work to do, so today we are going to get breakfast at a nice cafe and then he'll do some work on his computer while I (try to) write. So hopefully Chapter 5 can start going up soon-ish-ly!
The entire day yesterday: Nothing happens. Until I post my update. 12 minutes later, Skotos has pushed me off the index, and calling me wrong while doing so.
Wrong. ME?!? Oh how very much dare thee sir.
Now normally this would be where I would have to engage your argument on its merit. Luckily we're on the internet and I'm offended, so I win. Kilo: Don't you dare to put that back in!!!!
This is amazing. Great era, superb narrative and fantastic description! I'm only two parts in so I've got a lot to catch up on!!
Hi CaesarsSword! Good to see a new face, and I am glad you are liking it so far. The AAR is text-heavy and somewhat long, so take your time with it, but I think it is worth the effort. At any rate, there are a few folks who are regulars here and seem to like it, so I imagine it can't be all bad And as I say in the opening post for the AAR, if you have any thoughts or comments, do not hesitate to share. I am always looking to improve things, even if it is just catching type-setting, spelling, or grammatical errors. And if you have thoughts about the story itself, or questions about the region or time-period, I am also happy to hear those. In short, I love feedback!
Hey team, it's been too darn long since I posted an update, and I want to get at least one per month, so I'm squeaking one in in the last minutes of September (depending on where you are). I hope this one is up to muster, despite being a tad rushed in some points. Also, thanks to all the readers for helping get this AAR to over 20,000 views!!! I just saw the number and was super surprised and delighted!
Continued from Chapter 4 - Part IX
Dramatis Personae
Chapter 5
The Incense Road
--------------------------------------------------
(Part I)
Tharin stood at the center of the rode, alone, watching the seemingly endless stream of men and beasts pouring through the pass to Bakkah. His own soldiers were languidly sitting in the shade cast by a scattering of boulders some few hundred paces behind him, an arrangement that suited him well. He had waited long for this meeting, and now that it was upon him he found himself uncharacteristically nervous. Tharin raised his chin, briefly closed his eyes, and breathed deeply, forcing the dry upland air into his lungs and through his body. With each breath he could feel the flutter in his limbs receding, the slow churning in the depths of his stomach calming. He counted to ten and opened his eyes, and his hands were again steady, the hands of a captain of Saba'.
With his bearing regained he began to survey the approaching figures in earnest. At first glance they seemed a poor lot, to his eyes more peasant than soldier, but they were indeed numerous, more so than Tharin would ever have imagined. And mixed amongst their ranks strode more horses and camels than he could count, some trudging under the weight of cumbersome pack harnesses, but most saddled and stepping lightly under the guidance of their riders. Whether or not they were true warriors remained to be seen, but they were at least an army, and his Queen, Mubsamat, had done wisely to send him as an emissary, to bring the northern rabble to the banners of Saba'.
As the soldiers of Edum drew closer Tharin noticed at their head a rider unlike the rest. The man sat tall in his saddle, his shoulders thrust back in what appeared to be easy arrogance, yet when one of his number stumbled or called out to him he would readily pause and dismount to lend assistance or a kindly ear. The man's dress and mount spoke of nobility and wealth, but his actions were those of a common soldier, a comrade-in-arms to be trusted without question.
While Tharin stood placidly watching, the army had continued in their march toward him, but with each step they slowed more and more, seeming wary of the Saba' men who must have appeared to be barring the northerners' way. When they were still a double-bowshot distant they halted entirely. A scurried council was held within the foremost ranks of their vanguard, after which six men detached themselves from the murmuring multitude and began approaching the Saba' on foot.
Tharin set his feet firmly at shoulder-width and closed his hands before him, the fingers of his left curled about his right in a display of quiet resolve. He then thought over his orders again, for what felt must have been the thousandth time, the words his Queen had bid him to say. It was a fair offer he was to present, and the Nabati would be fools to refuse, yet still he was nervous, driving him to feverishly play his speech over and over in his mind for the little comfort that might give. He had only just concluded a single recitation when the northern party reached his position.
The men moving toward him walked tall, carrying themselves with the bearing of champions. When they were but a score of paces from Tharin they halted briefly, and then the figure he had earlier noticed stepped apart from the rest, crossing half the remaining space. Tharin examined him with a careful eye, hoping to gain some measure of the man. He was not old, his hair still the deep hues jet and flint, but the closer Tharin looked upon him the more he noticed the marks of age in his eyes and along the lines of his face, sadness and care ripped and carved in the wrinkles of his forehead and the hollows above his cheeks. Tharin could not say whether the figure opposite was a wise man, whether the worries of life that had marked his visage had not also left some traces on his heart, but one thing that was certain was that he had endured much already in his time beneath the sun. There were tragedies and mysteries written in each and every of his features, and Tharin longed to unmask them all, to discover his motives and hidden desires, but the Saba' captain's assay was cut short by a curt statement.
"You are barring our way, and your silence does not speak friendship." the man said.
The North Arabian patter lay odd and uncouth on Tharin's ears, but he understood the speech well enough, as well as the threat it contained. Remembering his purpose, he quickly rallied.
"My name is Tharin, servant of Mubsamat, foremost Queen of Saba'." Tharin said slowly, framing the words in a clear, if somewhat over-formal dialect of the central Hijaz. "I was sent to deliver a message to the general of the Nabati."
The man opposite remained silent for a brief moment, his eyes narrowed, but he then seemed to reach a decision. "I am Mun'at Ha'Qadri," he said, "General of Edum, servant to the Malek, Malka Qênu Ha'Nabati, and it is I who command these men. Whatever words you have to say, they are meant for me."
On hearing this Tharin smiled honestly and nodded deeply in respect, adding, "Very well."
Continue to Chapter 5 - Part II
An interesting part to set-up the chapter with. We get to know a bit of Tharin and his character and of course Mun'at being a legend like always. Interested to see how Tharin's message will be received by the Nabati general.
It sounds like Tharin instinctively likes and respect Mun'at. I hope they'll get the chance to talk further - but I wonder if their goals can be reconciled with each other.
Thanks for that Cook! I love milestones, and even if it is just you continuously refreshing the page, at least I know you are excited for new updates!
I'm glad you liked it. I realized there has not been any description of Mun'at yet (which was by intent), and I figured it might be interesting to get a view of him by looking through someone else's eyes.
Regarding their actual discussion and its results, you'll have to wait until the update after the next one.
Part of what I had in my head there is that Tharin is a warrior, so he instinctively likes others who think and act like warriors as well. It is why he is drawn to Mubsamat (she might not be an actual warrior - cause that's not totally possible given that she is a woman and in that society - but she definitely has a warrior's spirit), and it will draw him to Mun'at as well. Regarding their goals, we'll have to wait and see how things pan out as they move closer to the Saba' plateau.
Thanks Derc. I still have to think of whether I want to actually show their meeting scene or not. Either way, the next update is all about the Saba' intrigues, and so I still have some time to plan out exactly how I want things to progress with Mun'at and Tharin. One thing I am sure of though is that if Huns came through at any point, these Arabian fellows would lock shields in an instant to kick some a**. You're lucky our two universes aren't linked together
Continued from Chapter 5 - Part I
Dramatis Personae
Chapter 5
The Incense Road
--------------------------------------------------
(Part II)
Zaadi, like most of those of his tribe, was tall and slight of stature, with tightly curled hair colored in the deepest shades of night, the black of a raven's wing that would flash violet and jade when the sun hit it. His beard was cropped close after the Levantine fashion, lending his features an added air of borrowed exotic charm which he used often and with delight. However, most striking of all were his eyes. They were the palest of hazel, the color of honey and summer sunshine running through new leaves, and his gaze was fit to soften the hardest of hearts. Currently, that gaze was fixed on the Houthi warriors descending from the mountain pass before him.
The Houthis, lesser cousins of the Hashidi, were a small tribe, oft overlooked and underestimated, but they had since time immemorial dwelt on the northern slopes of the Sarat mountains, hardening them to the strength of granite. While the clans of the high plateau lived their comfortable lives of regularity and plenty the Houthis had, by necessity, fought daily for their survival. Each summer and autumn it was their bows and spears that held at bay the raiders out of the Empty Quarter, the great sand desert of al-Rub' al Khali, and the winter storms that broke against the high peaks completed the culling of the tribe, leaving only the strongest to carry on their lines. They were few in number, yet hearty in spirit, and besides the Hashidis commanded by Karab, Zaadi could not have hoped for better allies in his private war with Mubsamat.
As Zaadi looked on the approaching Houthis, it seemed a cloud passed over his countenance, and with a sigh he turned toward the south, his lips tight. His own ranks were swelling, but it had been two weeks and more since Far'am Rafshan had abandoned his home north of Ma'rib, and the whispered rumors were that the half-Qatabani had returned to the lands of his forebears. Zaadi did not know why Far'am had left, nor whether the treacherous oaf would return, but a gnawing uncertainty had begun to coil in his gut. Long ago Far'am had come to Saba', and in all his time there he had been a faithful denizen of that country, but he had abandoned his own when he came to the high plateau. Zaadi would not forget that.
The ragged patchwork hills of his homeland lay at his back as Far'am began heading north, back toward Ma'rib. When last he had taken that road it was as a coward and turncoat, a man bereft of honor and nation, but Far'am now rode tall in his saddle, his eager eyes burning with a fire fit to challenge the noonday sun.
Sixteen days earlier he had fled Ma'rib in fear, phantoms dancing in his shadows, and not knowing who he might trust he had run home like a frightened child. He had not known what to expect from his sundered kinsmen, had not known whether they would shun or embrace him. But he did know that for his sins he had earned all manner ill intent, and so it was with a dire resignation that he had finally, slowly, entered the nomads' camp on the border between Saba' and Qataban. With his head hanging in shame Far'am had dismounted and begun to lead his horse by the nose when a cry swept over the village of canvas sheets. In an instant he was surrounded, the press moving closer and closer, the din of many voices crowding in on his ears. Far'am, his eyes still on the dirt, had half-expected to be struck down at any moment, but finally he began to make out the words of those around him. Cutting through the hubbub he heard his name, not spoken with malice or long-nurtured hatred, but with longing and disbelief. Far'am looked up and saw not enemies, but friends and family, a tribe who had found a son long thought to be dead.
That night they had feasted well, and in the days after Far'am had told of all that had befallen him since he had left the lands of his people. Finally, he told them of the strife between Zaadi and Mubsamat, the quiet war being prepared on the high plateau, and his own fears that he was no longer trusted by those he thought to be friends. Far'am could not remain in Qataban, for the lords of that country had branded him an outlaw and would not tolerate his presence in peace, but it seemed that Saba' had become just as dangerous, and the half-blood noble did not know where to turn.
On hearing this the elders of his tribe had held council together, discussing what might be done until long after the sun had quit the heavens. The fires had begun to burn low, and dawn was nearing, yet still Far'am waited patiently outside the central tent, the lesser nobles and warriors of his clan standing beside him. Eventually, after a heavy night overfilled with worry and dread, the tribe's leaders emerged and addressed Far'am, telling him in clear words how he might safeguard himself and at the same time atone for his past mistakes. If he chose the road they offered him Far'am would, for a time, be at greatest peril, but before the year had turned he would be made a lord, with those dearest to him close beside. No more would he be an exile or traitor. He would undo his sins and raise his people to a height they had never before attained. That was the promise the elders had made in the quiet hours at the crest of day. And Far'am had seized the opportunity presented to him, agreeing to all that was asked of him.
The memory of that night flickering through his mind, Far'am turned in his saddle. His gaze swept over the column behind him, the men and women, the beasts and warriors. Their road to Ma'rib was still long and winding, and there were many who would fear and mistake the intentions of his people. Yet Far'am's visage betrayed no more trace of fear. He was a half-blood, trusted by few of either Saba' or Qataban, but among his own he had become a lord, and he would by his actions bear testament to that honor.
Continue to Chapter 5 - Part III
another beautifully wrttien piece...
It sounds like the Sabeans are fractured, with a break-down of trust between Zaadi and Far'am who were (I think) allies before. Perhaps the way that the Sabeans concentrate on their internal rivals will create an opportunity for Mun'a, to do something he couldn't otherwise have done.