- Influence
- 2,231.00
Report by Rutty P. Slaw, Smarch 18, 1765.
Imperial scholars first came into contact with the people of Mesmeros, an island nation in the far south and west, when oar ships with black sails and black hulls began coming to Imperial shores beginning in 1586.
They were crewed mostly by brownrats, martens with richly-hued yellow throats, and foxes, many of them of the splotchy red, black and white variety known as "cross foxes" in Imperial parlance.
Through writing and sign language, they communicated having come from another empire, called Mesmeros, and on behalf of their marteness empress Zetzara, whose elegant image was inscribed upon their coinage, wished to establish trade.
They brought with them a fine variety of dried tobacco, casks of spiced rum, cacao, which the scholars doubted would catch on, and many tasty and deviant spices besides, including vanilla, allspice, and chiles, which tortures some tasters and delights others.
These Mesmerene traders have since continued to return every season the weather is fair and the Vulpinsula is peaceable, bringing their wares and leaving with Vulpinsulan ones, but little else has come from their visits besides the occasional immigrant, a situation that is heavily restricted when known to Imperial officials.
It is currently unknown how many Mesmerene immigrants live in the Vulpinsula, but at least one high-ranking military official, the respected and ever-faithful war hero Colonel Harvon M. Jere, is known to be one; and if that is the calibre of beast to be expected from Mesmeros, perhaps greater immigration should be encouraged.
It has been noted that the prows of the black ships of the Mesmerene sea traders bear images of fearsome birds of prey, such as eagles, as do their standards, both of which are painted bloodred red and white and stand out quite strikingly from the black.
As for the attire of the sailors, they are fond of loose, simple clothes of a variety of colors, often wear jewelry made of bone, and carry shortbows, slings, daggers, axes, and scimitars.
When asked by Smelt reporters to describe his old homeland, Colonel Jere often speaks on the exceptional discipline, fearsomeness and battle prowess of the Mesmerene military, which he describes as among the best in the known world.
He has mentioned before that there are four classes in Mesmeros, that being laborers, traders, soldiers, and nobles, with the greatest honor and responsibility any lower-born citizen can hope to achieve being an officer's rank.
You are born into one of these classes dependant on your blood, and shown respect depending on that class.
If you no longer wish to labor in the fields or work at a trade, you apply for the soldiery.
If, after rigourous trials, you prove your stuff, you are accepted into the army or navy and made a trooper or sailor, and are fed well and prized by your nation like no other citizen.
It is the only way, besides outright revolution (which Colonel Jere claims Mesmeros has had many of), to rise in social rank in Mesmeros.
The fact that a soldier is seen as more important than say, a butcher, a baker, or a candlestick maker, or even the blacksmith who forges the weapons or the banker who pays them, serves to show the important place of the warrior in Mesmerene society.
It has apparently helped Mesmeros carve (and hold) quite a sizeable chunk of land in the distant planetary slice they live in, a fact which has courted concern from certain Imperial scholars and officials in the know that Mesmeros could be a rival to the great Vulpinsulan Empire.
Colonel Jere, and the actions of the Mesmerenes thus far, suggest otherwise; that our friendly distant trade partners have enough on their plate, and recognize we are better as friends than enemies.
Discussions with the sea traders, who have in time grown quite acquainted with the Imperial language, suggest that the reason they seem exclusively to sail oar ships is on account of the strange sea surrounding their island, a cursed sea clear as crystal where there is hardly any wind or tide at all. It is called, in our parlance, the "Mirror Sea", and has helped protect Mesmeros from invaders.
They have also named, in the nearly two hundred years we've known them, only two cities- the oldest city, Tiri, a place of spiritual corruption on account of its dark temples and rowdy nightlife; and Xenikor, their word for "Sunset", where the rich black wine they sell originates.
A purported "great black pyramid that touches the heavens" has also been mentioned, though whether this is a place of worship, a tomb for one of their emperors, or a themed restaurant is curently unknown.
When asked the name of their current emperor during their most recent voyage that came after several years of suspected avoidance of us during our civil wars, they told us it was Mesmerene. When we explained we already knew their emperor was Mesmerene, they laughed and instead asked if we were interested in a nutty cheese.
Yes, I said. I was indeed.
Little else of their mysterious island is known. Perhaps in another couple hundred years, or if we manage to catch the elusive and busy Colonel Jere for another interview, we can hope to learn more.
Imperial scholars first came into contact with the people of Mesmeros, an island nation in the far south and west, when oar ships with black sails and black hulls began coming to Imperial shores beginning in 1586.
They were crewed mostly by brownrats, martens with richly-hued yellow throats, and foxes, many of them of the splotchy red, black and white variety known as "cross foxes" in Imperial parlance.
Through writing and sign language, they communicated having come from another empire, called Mesmeros, and on behalf of their marteness empress Zetzara, whose elegant image was inscribed upon their coinage, wished to establish trade.
They brought with them a fine variety of dried tobacco, casks of spiced rum, cacao, which the scholars doubted would catch on, and many tasty and deviant spices besides, including vanilla, allspice, and chiles, which tortures some tasters and delights others.
These Mesmerene traders have since continued to return every season the weather is fair and the Vulpinsula is peaceable, bringing their wares and leaving with Vulpinsulan ones, but little else has come from their visits besides the occasional immigrant, a situation that is heavily restricted when known to Imperial officials.
It is currently unknown how many Mesmerene immigrants live in the Vulpinsula, but at least one high-ranking military official, the respected and ever-faithful war hero Colonel Harvon M. Jere, is known to be one; and if that is the calibre of beast to be expected from Mesmeros, perhaps greater immigration should be encouraged.
It has been noted that the prows of the black ships of the Mesmerene sea traders bear images of fearsome birds of prey, such as eagles, as do their standards, both of which are painted bloodred red and white and stand out quite strikingly from the black.
As for the attire of the sailors, they are fond of loose, simple clothes of a variety of colors, often wear jewelry made of bone, and carry shortbows, slings, daggers, axes, and scimitars.
When asked by Smelt reporters to describe his old homeland, Colonel Jere often speaks on the exceptional discipline, fearsomeness and battle prowess of the Mesmerene military, which he describes as among the best in the known world.
He has mentioned before that there are four classes in Mesmeros, that being laborers, traders, soldiers, and nobles, with the greatest honor and responsibility any lower-born citizen can hope to achieve being an officer's rank.
You are born into one of these classes dependant on your blood, and shown respect depending on that class.
If you no longer wish to labor in the fields or work at a trade, you apply for the soldiery.
If, after rigourous trials, you prove your stuff, you are accepted into the army or navy and made a trooper or sailor, and are fed well and prized by your nation like no other citizen.
It is the only way, besides outright revolution (which Colonel Jere claims Mesmeros has had many of), to rise in social rank in Mesmeros.
The fact that a soldier is seen as more important than say, a butcher, a baker, or a candlestick maker, or even the blacksmith who forges the weapons or the banker who pays them, serves to show the important place of the warrior in Mesmerene society.
It has apparently helped Mesmeros carve (and hold) quite a sizeable chunk of land in the distant planetary slice they live in, a fact which has courted concern from certain Imperial scholars and officials in the know that Mesmeros could be a rival to the great Vulpinsulan Empire.
Colonel Jere, and the actions of the Mesmerenes thus far, suggest otherwise; that our friendly distant trade partners have enough on their plate, and recognize we are better as friends than enemies.
Discussions with the sea traders, who have in time grown quite acquainted with the Imperial language, suggest that the reason they seem exclusively to sail oar ships is on account of the strange sea surrounding their island, a cursed sea clear as crystal where there is hardly any wind or tide at all. It is called, in our parlance, the "Mirror Sea", and has helped protect Mesmeros from invaders.
They have also named, in the nearly two hundred years we've known them, only two cities- the oldest city, Tiri, a place of spiritual corruption on account of its dark temples and rowdy nightlife; and Xenikor, their word for "Sunset", where the rich black wine they sell originates.
A purported "great black pyramid that touches the heavens" has also been mentioned, though whether this is a place of worship, a tomb for one of their emperors, or a themed restaurant is curently unknown.
When asked the name of their current emperor during their most recent voyage that came after several years of suspected avoidance of us during our civil wars, they told us it was Mesmerene. When we explained we already knew their emperor was Mesmerene, they laughed and instead asked if we were interested in a nutty cheese.
Yes, I said. I was indeed.
Little else of their mysterious island is known. Perhaps in another couple hundred years, or if we manage to catch the elusive and busy Colonel Jere for another interview, we can hope to learn more.
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