Lands of Red and Gold
- Thread starter Jared
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Jared, I would just like to say that is is an absolutely wonderful TL. The style is very intriguing - I quite like the way in which you describe each nation. Though, on that note, how many more *Australian nations are left?
Let me just add to the congratulations for designing this map.
And on a related note, I need to work out a map for the Regency of the Neverborn (Yadji Empire, in other words). Would you or any other cartographers like to volunteer?
If anyone would like to try, I can provide some suggestions, but alas, I'm really graphically challenged.
Merci.
Depends how much inspiration I get. The next couple of posts are a bit of history about the Junditmara peoples, and how they evolve into the Yadji. After that will (probably) come a post on the life of the Good Man, and the Pliri faith he founded, and how it has evolved amongst the various peoples of Australasia.
There will also be a post on the kingdom of Tjibarr (OTL Swan Hill and its dominions), who are probably the most technologically advanced people on the continent. And a post on the Daluming kingdom (the Bungudjimay around OTL Coffs Harbour), who are quite possibly the creepiest. Somehow or other, I'll show what the Maori have turned into, although that may be after I show the first European contact; the Maori are pretty isolated from the rest of the continent, and won't have much early contact with Europeans.
There's a couple of other peoples who I may or may not show in some detail: the Kiyungu in OTL southern Queensland, and the Patjimunra in the Hunter Valley (who are kind of... odd.)
So, anywhere from four to eight posts before I start showing European contact.
On a separate note, I've also made something of a retcon to the timeline. I've been persuaded that the Kurnawal, as shown in post #13, were rather too close to various poets from a small island partway between Europe and North America. I've retconned out all references to *kennings and the like; now the "scolds" are just a group of poets who specialise in using deliberately obscure language.
I've also created a rich text version of the LoRaG timeline, which is hosted on the DoD website for now... here. It will be where I keep the latest version with any other retcons, amendments etc, and it may be helpful as a reference document to keep track of things.
Lands of Red and Gold #15: The Lords Of The Lake
Lands of Red and Gold #15: The Lords Of The Lake
This post provides more information about the history of the Junditmara, the oldest sedentary people in allohistorical Australia, and describes the beginning of the rise of the Yadji, who by 1618 would rule the most populous nation in all of Australasia.
* * *
Junditmara: an ancient people in an ancient land. Their forefathers were among the earliest people in the world to adopt a sedentary lifestyle, based on elaborate aquaculture and eel-farming. They have maintained a continuous cultural tradition since that time; the region around Tae Rak [Lake Condah] has been continuously occupied by Junditmara peoples for eight thousand years.
Long before the ancestors of the Gunnagal started to farm red yams along the Nyalananga [River Murray], the Junditmara were building in stone and mobilising workforces of thousands to maintain their stone weirs and dams. Their aquaculture was in fact the original inspiration for the early Gunnagalic farmers, who took their techniques and adapted them to the drier conditions but much greater water volume of the Nyalananga.
While an ancient people, the Junditmara were few in number when compared to the farming civilization which emerged along the Nyalananga. Until they had access to crops, the sedentary Junditmara population never rose much above ten thousand, divided into four chiefdoms clustered around Tae Rak. In comparison, the Gunnagalic-speaking peoples had a population of almost a million people by 1000 BC, occupied most of the Nyalananga, and had six major cities and many smaller towns.
The early Gunnagal civilization collapsed after 1000 BC, and the resulting migrations brought domesticated crops and animals to the Junditmara peoples. The Junditmara absorbed a few of the Gunnagalic immigrants and took up their farming ways. This allowed the Junditmara chiefdoms to expand their territory and started a substantial increase in their population. Unlike most non-Gunnagalic-speaking peoples, the Junditmara maintained their identity, language and religion despite the Gunnagalic tide.
In some ways, the Junditmara became innovators. They were the first people to domesticate the tiger quoll, which they used to control rodent pests and in some cases a fireside companion. They were also the first people to make widespread use of muntries, a native fruit which the Junditmara learned to grow using trellises to increase the yield [1]. They adopted the emu as a domesticated bird before it reached the surviving Gunnagal cities along the Nyalananga.
Still, for all of their increase in population, the Junditmara of the first millennium BC were a relative backwater. They were divided into a varying number of chiefdoms (usually five) who fought amongst themselves, and preserved enough of their own sense of identity that they withstood pressure from neighbouring peoples. They were connected into the broader trade networks around the rest of the continent; most commonly, they traded dried muntries and other fruits, smoked eel meat, and some timber, for tin and copper which they shaped into bronze.
The large-scale population movements of the Great Migrations were largely ended by 100 AD, at least in southern Victoria. (Population movements elsewhere lasted about a century longer). At the end of the migration period, the Junditmara occupied a region roughly bounded in the west by Portland and Coleraine, in the north by the Grampians, and then by a rough line running south-east to Camperdown and then further south to the Otways.
Within these borders, the Junditmara were divided into several competing chiefdoms. The borders and even existence of these kingdoms was fluid, with new dynasties emerging regularly, and older ones being defeated and absorbed. The most important population centres during this period were Gurndjit [Portland], which sheltered the best port for fishing, Jurundit [Koroit], whose rich volcanic soils supported the best farming in their region, Tuhonong [Hamilton], whose proximity to their ancestral lake Tae Rak made it their most important spiritual centre, and Nguwurru [Cobden], the largest population centre in the eastern part of Junditmara territory.
The competing chiefdoms fought regular wars for control of territory and the major population centres. However, the Junditmara chiefdoms did not have any clear rules for succession; any male descendant or close blood relative could claim the title of chief. This led to regular fratricidal wars amongst the Junditmara, and which prevented the emergence of any long-lasting kingdoms.
Outside their borders, the Junditmara were surrounded by Gunnagalic-speaking peoples on every side. The most important of these were the Tjunini who lived around the Otways to the south-east, the Giratji who lived to the east, the Yadilli and Tiwarang to the west, and the Yotjuwal to the north. While borders were fluid, there was a gradual long-term trend for the Junditmara to slowly expand their borders; their aquaculture allowed them to support slightly higher populations than their neighbouring peoples [2].
During the period from 200-400 AD, the population of all of southern Victoria was substantially increased by the diffusion of new agricultural techniques from the Classical Gunnagal cities to the north, such as crop rotation and companion planting. The growing population saw the emergence of the first political entities amongst the Junditmara which were large and stable enough to be called kingdoms. It also meant that their trade and other contacts with the Classical Gunnagal became much more significant. The first indisputable historical account of the Junditmara emerges during this period. While the Junditmara did not yet have writing, records in Tjibarr dated to 265 AD speak of a trader who visited “Tjuonong” and who brought back golden jewellery and finely-woven textiles.
These records make it clear that even at this early stage, the Junditmara were familiar with the two products for which their descendants would be famed around the world. Finely-woven textiles were an integral part of Junditmara society for centuries. Even in their pre-farming days, possum-skin coats had been used both as a sign of status and protection from the cold. With the spread of flax and linen, Junditmara weavers developed a variety of elaborate techniques. They used an incredible range of dyes, from copper and other metals, from wattle leaves and roots, from tree sap, from a variety of other plants, from ochre, and from shellfish. They used these to dyes to create intricately-patterned textiles – blankets, garments, coiled baskets, bags, slings – which were markers of status, and also used in a variety of religious ceremonies.
Gold-smithing was another venerable Junditmara practice which would became known around the world. The early Junditmara did not have much access to gold, apart from one field in the Grampians on the edge of their territory. However, not far to their east, in the lands of the Giratji, were some of the richest gold-fields in Australia. Later archaeological investigations in the region of Ballarat would find the first traces of gold mining here in the first century AD, and gold would be traded from the Giratji both east and west.
The Junditmara esteemed gold far more than the Giratji, and adopted it for both decorative and religious purposes. Junditmara chiefs wore gold masks on important occasions, and other wealthy people used it for jewellery and other ornamentation. In Junditmara temples, gold was the essential metal for a variety of ritual objects, particularly for any lamps or fire-holders.
In time, the Junditmara would combine these two specialities, leading to one of the names which they would be known to outsiders: the weavers of gold. Gold and silver threads were woven into the capes and other garments for the priests and chiefs, or carefully-positioned small plates of silver and gold were added to the woven products. Sometimes these capes were further decorated with brightly-coloured bird feathers, such as those of lorikeets, cockatoos, or other parrots, or the iridescent, lustrous sheen of mother-of-pearl from abalone shells. The variety and splendour of these textiles made considerable impressions on visitors to Junditmara territory, and their descendents were still practicing these arts in 1618.
* * *
The Junditmara chiefdoms developed on a largely independent path for many centuries. While they had acquired farming, domesticated animals and other arts of civilization from the Gunnagal, they had applied their own interests and specialisations to these technologies. The twin barriers of language and religion meant that they always differentiated themselves from their Gunnagalic neighbours, even when they had contact with them.
The rise of the Empire cut short the Junditmara’s separate development. The chiefdoms had started to develop into more stable kingdoms, but this did not help them to stave off the advance of Watjubaga’s armies. In a series of campaigns which lasted from 718-764 AD, the Junditmara kingdoms were conquered by the Empire.
The Junditmara never made willing imperial subjects. At times they were quiet, but even those instances were merely sullen peaces. In their religious views and their social codes, the Junditmara were an alien people by Gunnagalic standards, and especially when compared to the views of the Biral who ruled the Empire.
The Junditmara had a hierarchical social system based on duty to one’s elders, conformity, and the rewarding of loyalty. Imperial rule did not fit into this system, particularly the system of labour drafts where people would be required to work on tasks assigned to suit imperial preferences. Junditmara expected to work to help their own family and local community; they cared nothing for working for others, and viewed labour drafts as forced betrayal of their families. The result was simmering tension, numerous revolts, and the eventual overthrow of imperial rule in 907 AD.
While the Junditmara resented the imperial conquerors, that did not prevent them from acquiring a variety of knowledge from their Biral rulers. Writing spread with the imperial conquest; while the Biral used mostly their own language in administration, the Junditmara took the Gunnagalic script and adapted it to their own language. The Junditmara also inherited the imperial knowledge in fields such as metallurgy, medicine, astronomy, and the Gunnagalic calendar.
After the restoration of their independence, the Junditmara took this knowledge and applied it to their own ends. There were many aspects of Gunnagalic culture which were either explicitly rejected or never adopted, such as their ball sports, their religious views, and the social system of the factions. With the return of their own sovereignty, the Junditmara once again started to develop on their own path...
* * *
The revolts which overthrew the Empire were based on a conscious sense of ethnic nationalism. The Junditmara saw themselves as a sovereign people and sought to remove unwanted foreign overlords. This sense of common purpose meant that what they created what was meant to be a new nation for all the Junditmara-speaking peoples. At Tuhunong, the city near Tae Rak, they appointed the rebellion’s leading general to become the Lord of the Lake. This was meant to be an empire; the role was inspired by the imperial rank of the First Speakers of Watjubaga. The Lord of the Lake’s role was meant to be to lead all of the Junditmara.
In theory, anyway.
Although notionally an empire, the Junditmara had in fact formed a confederation. The old competing chiefdoms had not been restored, but there were still many local aristocrats who had built substantial local reputations. Moreover, one of the legacies of imperial rule was that the Junditmara had a considerable distrust of too much central authority. This meant that while there was now an Emperor, the local chiefs were disinclined to listen to what he said.
Instead, what emerged after Watjubaga’s overthrow was not an empire, but a community of local rulers who first ruled in the name of the Emperor, and after a couple of generations, in their own names. As a people, the Junditmara had always maintained a strong sense of hierarchy, of kinship, and of membership in a local community. They found little comfort in having a distant Emperor, and gave their loyalty to the emerging social class of local rulers.
These new leaders were called otjima, a name which translates literally as “golden men.” They became the ruling nobility of the Junditmara, each with their own hereditary authority to control a particular region, collect tribute in the form of goods or labour, and defend its inhabitants from all enemies. For centuries, all Junditmara acknowledged the theoretical authority of the Emperor, while in practice their loyalty went no further than their local otjima. Even the otjima rarely met the Emperor, and except for an occasional instance where the Emperor was asked to mediate between feuding otjima, they gave the Emperor no heed either. One of the early otjima was reported to have said, “I promise to obey the Emperor in all things, provided he promises not to order me to do anything.”
To defend their lands and enforce their will, the otjima made use of another emerging social class: the first professional military class within Junditmara society. During the pre-Watjubaga days, the Junditmara had not had much in the way of professional soldiers. Their chiefs had a few household guards, but otherwise their armies were mostly local levies and militia who took up arms at need.
The old ways changed with the new military technology and organised which Watjubaga brought. Now, to be effective in battle, soldiers needed bronze armour, a bronze sword, and usually a bronze spearhead. Bronze was available, thanks to imports from the Cider Isle, but it was expensive. Only a few people could afford such quantities of metal on their own. Moreover, the new military tactics required considerable training. Soldiering needed to become a permanent profession, not just for ordinary people who were called up at need.
In these circumstances, it did not take long for a hereditary military class to emerge in Junditmara society. They were called the briyuna, a word which originally meant “hunter” but which took on a new meaning in the time of the Empire of the Lake. A briyuna was born into the life of a warrior, and trained for their craft since childhood. Briyuna learned how to use a wide variety of weapons – swords, daggers, maces, axes, spears, bows, javelins, slings – and even techniques of unarmed combat. They had strict standards of physical discipline to ensure that they had the strength and fitness to wear armour for extended periods while marching and then fighting.
As a people, the Junditmara had rigid social codes and expectations, and nowhere would these be more clearly-articulated than for the briyuna. The briyuna were expected to live according to a warrior’s code which emphasised courage, loyalty to one’s comrades, and unquestioning obedience to one’s lord (otjima). They were expected to maintain their skill in arms, and to demonstrate it both in peacetime (through duels and displays of prowess) and on the battlefield. Cowardice was the ultimate failing, and a briyuna who was condemned for cowardice or fleeing the battlefield would be spurned by lord and family. Briyuna were taught not to fear death; indeed, in keeping with Junditmara beliefs, no-one was better prepared to die than one who had died while armed.
Briyuna were expected to be honourable men in both peace and war. While there was no obligation to accept an opponent’s surrender or to fight an opponent on even terms, it was considered a great breach of honour to harm a prisoner once their surrender had been accepted. Likewise, in peacetime briyuna were expected to keep to their sworn word, never lie about matters of honour, and to uphold both their personal reputation and that of their otjima.
In their personal lives, briyuna were expected to maintain an attitude of temperance and moderation in all things. They were certainly permitted to enjoy pleasures, including the traditional yam wine, women and song (not necessarily in that order), but they were not to let their pleasures control them. A briyuna who drank to excess would be considered both personally disgraced for losing control of himself, and also as having failed in his duty to his lord since he would not be able to fight properly while drunk. Likewise, a briyuna who sought comfort in a woman’s arms was acting appropriately, while one who put concern for a woman above his duties would be considered to have shamed his name.
While the life of a briyuna was in theory one of continual preparation for warfare, in practice they spent much more time at peace than at war. Briyuna were always expected to be literate, and indeed to have a thorough knowledge of the literary and historical classics of Junditmara society. As such, they often indulged a variety of other pursuits besides purely studying warfare. Many briyuna acted as administrators for their lords, since they were considered the most trustworthy of servants. They were also often involved in a variety of cultural pursuits; several briyuna became noted singers, poets, and artists.
* * *
The formal rule of the Lords of the Lake lasted for nearly four centuries, from 909 AD to 1289 AD. For virtually all of that time, the Junditmara lived under the theoretical authority of these emperors, but the actual authority of their local otjima. At times, this meant that as a people, the Junditmara expanded their territory, as would-be otjima pushed into new territory. This meant that the remaining Tjunini around the Otways were absorbed by Junditmara expansion. A similar process saw most of the Tiwarang people pushed out of south-western Victoria as emerging otjima claimed new lands of their own.
However, the decentralisation of imperial authority also led to increasingly bloody struggles amongst the otjima. There were no formal divisions in rank amongst the otjima; in theory each of them had the same status, and answered only to the Emperor. The closest thing to a formal division of rank was that each year the Emperor would name Twenty Counsellors who were meant to advise him for the following year. This normally included the wealthiest and most prestigious otjima, but not always; some Emperors named lesser otjima to the Twenty for a year as an effective bribe to persuade them to accept imperial mediation in their disputes with their neighbours.
In informal status and control of territory, though, the otjima were never equal, and they regularly fought to gain territory or prestige. It became an axiom amongst the Junditmara that “a briyuna is loyal to his otjima, and an otjima is loyal only to himself.” Sometimes they formed alliances, but as the centuries progressed, the divisions amongst them became more violently and treacherously expressed. By 1200 AD, it was popularly said that each hilltop had its own otjima, which in some areas was not an exaggeration.
The infighting and political fragmentation contributed to the gradual decline of the Empire of the Lake, but the deterioration was accelerated when the first Marnitja epidemic swept through the Junditmara realm in 1208-09. The first blow of the Waiting Death fell heavily on the Junditmara; nearly twenty percent of their population succumbed to the ravages of the pink cough or the feverish delirium which followed [3]. In its first wave, the virus did not discriminate between fit or weak, young or old, healthy or unhealthy; all were equally vulnerable to the Waiting Death.
The effects of this epidemic were devastating to the Junditmara social order. Many of the more prominent ruling otjima died, along with a significant proportion of their experienced briyuna. This led to an increase in internecine warfare, as would-be successors fought amongst themselves, or surviving otjima sought to take advantage of inexperienced heirs by invading the territory of their dead rivals. With so many experienced briyuna dead, these battles were often bloodier and more badly-coordinated than would have been the case under their veteran predecessors. The fractious warfare undermined the already limited credibility of the rule of the Lord of the Lake.
The death toll of the Waiting Death and the subsequent warfare had profound social effects on the Junditmara. Their surviving art and literature of this time shows the emergence of apocalyptic themes, and depicts the first beginnings of a shift away from the martial code of the briyuna. The older form of literature was represented in songs, poems and heroic tales which had some similarities to the romances of medieval Europe. In these tales, briyuna were invariably depicted as the epitome of honour, devotion, and self-confidence. In the tales which emerged after the arrival of Marnitja, there are new depictions of briyuna as more human and realistic, with human failings and mistakes.
Likewise, the apocalyptic themes of the time resulted in new shifts in Junditmara religion. Unlike their Gunnagalic neighbours, the Junditmara had always viewed the world and time as something with a beginning and an end, not an endless cycle of eternity. With the great dying of the early thirteenth century, their old beliefs were reshaped into a more apocalyptic theology. New religious visionaries appeared, who proclaimed that the times they were living in were the last days of the world, before the time when the Neverborn would break free from His home in the womb of the earth and call His chosen warriors to fight in the last great battle against the Lord of the Night.
Amidst the chaos of these times, one otjima family rose to prominence, one whose name would become synonymous with the most populous empire on the continent. The Yadji were one of many otjima families who had arisen amongst the Junditmara. The first surviving record of the Yadji is from 1067, when a man named Narryani Yadji led a band of briyuna to conquer a small town named Kirunmara [Terang, Victoria] and had himself proclaimed as an otjima.
Of itself, Kurinmara held little to distinguish itself from so many other small towns and settlements under the nominal rule of the Lord of the Lake. It had decent rainfall, by the standards of the Junditmara, and adequate although hardly spectacular soils. It was toward the eastern frontier of Junditmara territory, but nowhere which offered any strategic significance or even defensibility. A small lake just to the south was about the only feature of interest; to the water-loving Junditmara, this lake could be expanded into a series of swamps and open water which would supply regular meals of fish and waterbirds to the table of the ruling otjima.
Still, while the Yadji were for so long just one otjima family among many, they were reasonably successful ones. Their rulers were on the whole more capable than most of their rivals, which allowed them to conquer a reasonable stretch of territory by 1150. In this year, surviving records from Tuhunong first include a Yadji otjima among the Twenty Counsellors. This was an indication of their success, and for the next century, there would be a Yadji named to the Twenty each year.
When the first great Marnitja epidemic swept through Kurinmara in 1209, the Yadji suffered along with everyone else. Their ruling otjima died in a viral-induced delirium, and his heir, Ouyamunna Yadji, contracted the pink cough two days after he inherited the family title. However, while he waited to know whether he would live or die, he had substantial motivation to create a legacy for himself. Ouyamunna is reported to have said, “Soon I will have forgotten the world, but the world will not soon forget me.”
In the months while he waited for death, Ouyamunna found a way to create his legacy. He changed the rules of warfare as they had existed among the Junditmara for three centuries. Warfare was meant to be the role of well-trained and armoured briyuna who fought for their lord. Ouyamunna decided to recruit a new class of warrior from the men who had survived the pink cough, and who were waiting to know their fate. He is said to have told these men, “Soon you will leave the world, but the manner of your leaving it is up to you.”
The warriors who Ouyamunna recruited were mostly not briyuna, and they had limited training in using swords or wearing armour. In any case, the Yadji family did not have enough wealth to equip so many new warriors with bronze armour and swords. For weapons, he gave them axes and maces, since they were easier to find and most of the men had used such things as tools. For armour, he gave them nothing, but Ouyamunna would turn the lack of armour into an advantage. He did not have or want men who fought coolly and well-armoured. He wanted men who would be consumed with the fury of battle, and who cared naught whether they lived or died, because they already expected to die soon.
Ouyamunna got what he wanted.
The new warriors he created wore no armour, just clothes of woven flax died crimson to mark the death they already expected. Before they entered battle, these men worked themselves into a trance-like state through a combination of chanting, ritualised dancing, and consumption of native tobacco [4] and certain mushrooms which were known to deaden pain. When they entered the battle, these warriors were consumed in a violent frenzy, howling with fury, rushing headlong at the enemy regardless of the odds, and striking blows with what appeared to be superhuman strength. In their frenzy, they shrugged off wounds, and often became so indiscriminate in their killing that they would not distinguish between friend and enemy. They fought with incredible energy until the battlefield was cleared of any foes, and then as often as not, they collapsed in exhaustion and would not recover for days.
Ouyamunna did not, in fact, survive the Waiting Death. The delirium consumed him as it had consumed so many before him. He fought off the fevered delirium better than most; it took three and a half months from the onset of the delirium until he breathed his last. In that time, though, the death warriors he had created made a legacy for him. They swept battlefield after battlefield clean of foes – and sometimes each other, too. In three months, Ouyamunna defeated and conquered thirteen other otjima, and more than tripled the size of Yadji territory in the process.
The rise of the Yadji had begun.
* * *
[1] Muntries (Kunzea pomifera) are one of several native fruits common to southern Victoria which are suitable for domestication. They are used as an occasional “bushfood” today, with some commercial harvest, and have also occasionally been grown overseas. (They were first recorded as cultivated in England in 1889).
[2] While the Gunnagalic ancestors of the neighbouring peoples had practiced aquaculture, these practices were lost during the migrations.
[3] This death toll is a higher percentage of the population than Marnitja will have on most other peoples (such as Eurasians), for two reasons. Marnitja here is just emerging as an epidemic disease, and is still quite virulent. It will evolve to be somewhat less deadly over the next couple of centuries. The other reason is that since at this point the *Australian peoples have such limited exposure to epidemic diseases, their immune systems are still quite weak, and this exacerbates the death toll. Repeated exposure to Marnitja over the next few generations will not only produce some natural resistance to the disease, it will also mean that their adaptive immune systems are somewhat stronger against all diseases.
[4] The native tobacco mentioned here is grown from several native Australian plants in the Nicotiana genus (principally N. benthamiana) which are related to domesticated tobacco from the Americas (N. tabacum and N. rustica). These plants were used by various historical Aboriginal peoples as stimulants. They are not the same as the main pituri drug cultivated in allohistorical Australia; that is grown from a native corkwood species (Duboisia hopwoodii) which is only distantly related to domesticated tobacco. The Australian Nicotiana species do contain nicotine, but have a much harsher taste and milder effect than corkwood pituri, and so are not used as a major trade item. They were locally available, though, which is why they were used for creating the first death warriors.
* * *
Thoughts?
This post provides more information about the history of the Junditmara, the oldest sedentary people in allohistorical Australia, and describes the beginning of the rise of the Yadji, who by 1618 would rule the most populous nation in all of Australasia.
* * *
Junditmara: an ancient people in an ancient land. Their forefathers were among the earliest people in the world to adopt a sedentary lifestyle, based on elaborate aquaculture and eel-farming. They have maintained a continuous cultural tradition since that time; the region around Tae Rak [Lake Condah] has been continuously occupied by Junditmara peoples for eight thousand years.
Long before the ancestors of the Gunnagal started to farm red yams along the Nyalananga [River Murray], the Junditmara were building in stone and mobilising workforces of thousands to maintain their stone weirs and dams. Their aquaculture was in fact the original inspiration for the early Gunnagalic farmers, who took their techniques and adapted them to the drier conditions but much greater water volume of the Nyalananga.
While an ancient people, the Junditmara were few in number when compared to the farming civilization which emerged along the Nyalananga. Until they had access to crops, the sedentary Junditmara population never rose much above ten thousand, divided into four chiefdoms clustered around Tae Rak. In comparison, the Gunnagalic-speaking peoples had a population of almost a million people by 1000 BC, occupied most of the Nyalananga, and had six major cities and many smaller towns.
The early Gunnagal civilization collapsed after 1000 BC, and the resulting migrations brought domesticated crops and animals to the Junditmara peoples. The Junditmara absorbed a few of the Gunnagalic immigrants and took up their farming ways. This allowed the Junditmara chiefdoms to expand their territory and started a substantial increase in their population. Unlike most non-Gunnagalic-speaking peoples, the Junditmara maintained their identity, language and religion despite the Gunnagalic tide.
In some ways, the Junditmara became innovators. They were the first people to domesticate the tiger quoll, which they used to control rodent pests and in some cases a fireside companion. They were also the first people to make widespread use of muntries, a native fruit which the Junditmara learned to grow using trellises to increase the yield [1]. They adopted the emu as a domesticated bird before it reached the surviving Gunnagal cities along the Nyalananga.
Still, for all of their increase in population, the Junditmara of the first millennium BC were a relative backwater. They were divided into a varying number of chiefdoms (usually five) who fought amongst themselves, and preserved enough of their own sense of identity that they withstood pressure from neighbouring peoples. They were connected into the broader trade networks around the rest of the continent; most commonly, they traded dried muntries and other fruits, smoked eel meat, and some timber, for tin and copper which they shaped into bronze.
The large-scale population movements of the Great Migrations were largely ended by 100 AD, at least in southern Victoria. (Population movements elsewhere lasted about a century longer). At the end of the migration period, the Junditmara occupied a region roughly bounded in the west by Portland and Coleraine, in the north by the Grampians, and then by a rough line running south-east to Camperdown and then further south to the Otways.
Within these borders, the Junditmara were divided into several competing chiefdoms. The borders and even existence of these kingdoms was fluid, with new dynasties emerging regularly, and older ones being defeated and absorbed. The most important population centres during this period were Gurndjit [Portland], which sheltered the best port for fishing, Jurundit [Koroit], whose rich volcanic soils supported the best farming in their region, Tuhonong [Hamilton], whose proximity to their ancestral lake Tae Rak made it their most important spiritual centre, and Nguwurru [Cobden], the largest population centre in the eastern part of Junditmara territory.
The competing chiefdoms fought regular wars for control of territory and the major population centres. However, the Junditmara chiefdoms did not have any clear rules for succession; any male descendant or close blood relative could claim the title of chief. This led to regular fratricidal wars amongst the Junditmara, and which prevented the emergence of any long-lasting kingdoms.
Outside their borders, the Junditmara were surrounded by Gunnagalic-speaking peoples on every side. The most important of these were the Tjunini who lived around the Otways to the south-east, the Giratji who lived to the east, the Yadilli and Tiwarang to the west, and the Yotjuwal to the north. While borders were fluid, there was a gradual long-term trend for the Junditmara to slowly expand their borders; their aquaculture allowed them to support slightly higher populations than their neighbouring peoples [2].
During the period from 200-400 AD, the population of all of southern Victoria was substantially increased by the diffusion of new agricultural techniques from the Classical Gunnagal cities to the north, such as crop rotation and companion planting. The growing population saw the emergence of the first political entities amongst the Junditmara which were large and stable enough to be called kingdoms. It also meant that their trade and other contacts with the Classical Gunnagal became much more significant. The first indisputable historical account of the Junditmara emerges during this period. While the Junditmara did not yet have writing, records in Tjibarr dated to 265 AD speak of a trader who visited “Tjuonong” and who brought back golden jewellery and finely-woven textiles.
These records make it clear that even at this early stage, the Junditmara were familiar with the two products for which their descendants would be famed around the world. Finely-woven textiles were an integral part of Junditmara society for centuries. Even in their pre-farming days, possum-skin coats had been used both as a sign of status and protection from the cold. With the spread of flax and linen, Junditmara weavers developed a variety of elaborate techniques. They used an incredible range of dyes, from copper and other metals, from wattle leaves and roots, from tree sap, from a variety of other plants, from ochre, and from shellfish. They used these to dyes to create intricately-patterned textiles – blankets, garments, coiled baskets, bags, slings – which were markers of status, and also used in a variety of religious ceremonies.
Gold-smithing was another venerable Junditmara practice which would became known around the world. The early Junditmara did not have much access to gold, apart from one field in the Grampians on the edge of their territory. However, not far to their east, in the lands of the Giratji, were some of the richest gold-fields in Australia. Later archaeological investigations in the region of Ballarat would find the first traces of gold mining here in the first century AD, and gold would be traded from the Giratji both east and west.
The Junditmara esteemed gold far more than the Giratji, and adopted it for both decorative and religious purposes. Junditmara chiefs wore gold masks on important occasions, and other wealthy people used it for jewellery and other ornamentation. In Junditmara temples, gold was the essential metal for a variety of ritual objects, particularly for any lamps or fire-holders.
In time, the Junditmara would combine these two specialities, leading to one of the names which they would be known to outsiders: the weavers of gold. Gold and silver threads were woven into the capes and other garments for the priests and chiefs, or carefully-positioned small plates of silver and gold were added to the woven products. Sometimes these capes were further decorated with brightly-coloured bird feathers, such as those of lorikeets, cockatoos, or other parrots, or the iridescent, lustrous sheen of mother-of-pearl from abalone shells. The variety and splendour of these textiles made considerable impressions on visitors to Junditmara territory, and their descendents were still practicing these arts in 1618.
* * *
The Junditmara chiefdoms developed on a largely independent path for many centuries. While they had acquired farming, domesticated animals and other arts of civilization from the Gunnagal, they had applied their own interests and specialisations to these technologies. The twin barriers of language and religion meant that they always differentiated themselves from their Gunnagalic neighbours, even when they had contact with them.
The rise of the Empire cut short the Junditmara’s separate development. The chiefdoms had started to develop into more stable kingdoms, but this did not help them to stave off the advance of Watjubaga’s armies. In a series of campaigns which lasted from 718-764 AD, the Junditmara kingdoms were conquered by the Empire.
The Junditmara never made willing imperial subjects. At times they were quiet, but even those instances were merely sullen peaces. In their religious views and their social codes, the Junditmara were an alien people by Gunnagalic standards, and especially when compared to the views of the Biral who ruled the Empire.
The Junditmara had a hierarchical social system based on duty to one’s elders, conformity, and the rewarding of loyalty. Imperial rule did not fit into this system, particularly the system of labour drafts where people would be required to work on tasks assigned to suit imperial preferences. Junditmara expected to work to help their own family and local community; they cared nothing for working for others, and viewed labour drafts as forced betrayal of their families. The result was simmering tension, numerous revolts, and the eventual overthrow of imperial rule in 907 AD.
While the Junditmara resented the imperial conquerors, that did not prevent them from acquiring a variety of knowledge from their Biral rulers. Writing spread with the imperial conquest; while the Biral used mostly their own language in administration, the Junditmara took the Gunnagalic script and adapted it to their own language. The Junditmara also inherited the imperial knowledge in fields such as metallurgy, medicine, astronomy, and the Gunnagalic calendar.
After the restoration of their independence, the Junditmara took this knowledge and applied it to their own ends. There were many aspects of Gunnagalic culture which were either explicitly rejected or never adopted, such as their ball sports, their religious views, and the social system of the factions. With the return of their own sovereignty, the Junditmara once again started to develop on their own path...
* * *
The revolts which overthrew the Empire were based on a conscious sense of ethnic nationalism. The Junditmara saw themselves as a sovereign people and sought to remove unwanted foreign overlords. This sense of common purpose meant that what they created what was meant to be a new nation for all the Junditmara-speaking peoples. At Tuhunong, the city near Tae Rak, they appointed the rebellion’s leading general to become the Lord of the Lake. This was meant to be an empire; the role was inspired by the imperial rank of the First Speakers of Watjubaga. The Lord of the Lake’s role was meant to be to lead all of the Junditmara.
In theory, anyway.
Although notionally an empire, the Junditmara had in fact formed a confederation. The old competing chiefdoms had not been restored, but there were still many local aristocrats who had built substantial local reputations. Moreover, one of the legacies of imperial rule was that the Junditmara had a considerable distrust of too much central authority. This meant that while there was now an Emperor, the local chiefs were disinclined to listen to what he said.
Instead, what emerged after Watjubaga’s overthrow was not an empire, but a community of local rulers who first ruled in the name of the Emperor, and after a couple of generations, in their own names. As a people, the Junditmara had always maintained a strong sense of hierarchy, of kinship, and of membership in a local community. They found little comfort in having a distant Emperor, and gave their loyalty to the emerging social class of local rulers.
These new leaders were called otjima, a name which translates literally as “golden men.” They became the ruling nobility of the Junditmara, each with their own hereditary authority to control a particular region, collect tribute in the form of goods or labour, and defend its inhabitants from all enemies. For centuries, all Junditmara acknowledged the theoretical authority of the Emperor, while in practice their loyalty went no further than their local otjima. Even the otjima rarely met the Emperor, and except for an occasional instance where the Emperor was asked to mediate between feuding otjima, they gave the Emperor no heed either. One of the early otjima was reported to have said, “I promise to obey the Emperor in all things, provided he promises not to order me to do anything.”
To defend their lands and enforce their will, the otjima made use of another emerging social class: the first professional military class within Junditmara society. During the pre-Watjubaga days, the Junditmara had not had much in the way of professional soldiers. Their chiefs had a few household guards, but otherwise their armies were mostly local levies and militia who took up arms at need.
The old ways changed with the new military technology and organised which Watjubaga brought. Now, to be effective in battle, soldiers needed bronze armour, a bronze sword, and usually a bronze spearhead. Bronze was available, thanks to imports from the Cider Isle, but it was expensive. Only a few people could afford such quantities of metal on their own. Moreover, the new military tactics required considerable training. Soldiering needed to become a permanent profession, not just for ordinary people who were called up at need.
In these circumstances, it did not take long for a hereditary military class to emerge in Junditmara society. They were called the briyuna, a word which originally meant “hunter” but which took on a new meaning in the time of the Empire of the Lake. A briyuna was born into the life of a warrior, and trained for their craft since childhood. Briyuna learned how to use a wide variety of weapons – swords, daggers, maces, axes, spears, bows, javelins, slings – and even techniques of unarmed combat. They had strict standards of physical discipline to ensure that they had the strength and fitness to wear armour for extended periods while marching and then fighting.
As a people, the Junditmara had rigid social codes and expectations, and nowhere would these be more clearly-articulated than for the briyuna. The briyuna were expected to live according to a warrior’s code which emphasised courage, loyalty to one’s comrades, and unquestioning obedience to one’s lord (otjima). They were expected to maintain their skill in arms, and to demonstrate it both in peacetime (through duels and displays of prowess) and on the battlefield. Cowardice was the ultimate failing, and a briyuna who was condemned for cowardice or fleeing the battlefield would be spurned by lord and family. Briyuna were taught not to fear death; indeed, in keeping with Junditmara beliefs, no-one was better prepared to die than one who had died while armed.
Briyuna were expected to be honourable men in both peace and war. While there was no obligation to accept an opponent’s surrender or to fight an opponent on even terms, it was considered a great breach of honour to harm a prisoner once their surrender had been accepted. Likewise, in peacetime briyuna were expected to keep to their sworn word, never lie about matters of honour, and to uphold both their personal reputation and that of their otjima.
In their personal lives, briyuna were expected to maintain an attitude of temperance and moderation in all things. They were certainly permitted to enjoy pleasures, including the traditional yam wine, women and song (not necessarily in that order), but they were not to let their pleasures control them. A briyuna who drank to excess would be considered both personally disgraced for losing control of himself, and also as having failed in his duty to his lord since he would not be able to fight properly while drunk. Likewise, a briyuna who sought comfort in a woman’s arms was acting appropriately, while one who put concern for a woman above his duties would be considered to have shamed his name.
While the life of a briyuna was in theory one of continual preparation for warfare, in practice they spent much more time at peace than at war. Briyuna were always expected to be literate, and indeed to have a thorough knowledge of the literary and historical classics of Junditmara society. As such, they often indulged a variety of other pursuits besides purely studying warfare. Many briyuna acted as administrators for their lords, since they were considered the most trustworthy of servants. They were also often involved in a variety of cultural pursuits; several briyuna became noted singers, poets, and artists.
* * *
The formal rule of the Lords of the Lake lasted for nearly four centuries, from 909 AD to 1289 AD. For virtually all of that time, the Junditmara lived under the theoretical authority of these emperors, but the actual authority of their local otjima. At times, this meant that as a people, the Junditmara expanded their territory, as would-be otjima pushed into new territory. This meant that the remaining Tjunini around the Otways were absorbed by Junditmara expansion. A similar process saw most of the Tiwarang people pushed out of south-western Victoria as emerging otjima claimed new lands of their own.
However, the decentralisation of imperial authority also led to increasingly bloody struggles amongst the otjima. There were no formal divisions in rank amongst the otjima; in theory each of them had the same status, and answered only to the Emperor. The closest thing to a formal division of rank was that each year the Emperor would name Twenty Counsellors who were meant to advise him for the following year. This normally included the wealthiest and most prestigious otjima, but not always; some Emperors named lesser otjima to the Twenty for a year as an effective bribe to persuade them to accept imperial mediation in their disputes with their neighbours.
In informal status and control of territory, though, the otjima were never equal, and they regularly fought to gain territory or prestige. It became an axiom amongst the Junditmara that “a briyuna is loyal to his otjima, and an otjima is loyal only to himself.” Sometimes they formed alliances, but as the centuries progressed, the divisions amongst them became more violently and treacherously expressed. By 1200 AD, it was popularly said that each hilltop had its own otjima, which in some areas was not an exaggeration.
The infighting and political fragmentation contributed to the gradual decline of the Empire of the Lake, but the deterioration was accelerated when the first Marnitja epidemic swept through the Junditmara realm in 1208-09. The first blow of the Waiting Death fell heavily on the Junditmara; nearly twenty percent of their population succumbed to the ravages of the pink cough or the feverish delirium which followed [3]. In its first wave, the virus did not discriminate between fit or weak, young or old, healthy or unhealthy; all were equally vulnerable to the Waiting Death.
The effects of this epidemic were devastating to the Junditmara social order. Many of the more prominent ruling otjima died, along with a significant proportion of their experienced briyuna. This led to an increase in internecine warfare, as would-be successors fought amongst themselves, or surviving otjima sought to take advantage of inexperienced heirs by invading the territory of their dead rivals. With so many experienced briyuna dead, these battles were often bloodier and more badly-coordinated than would have been the case under their veteran predecessors. The fractious warfare undermined the already limited credibility of the rule of the Lord of the Lake.
The death toll of the Waiting Death and the subsequent warfare had profound social effects on the Junditmara. Their surviving art and literature of this time shows the emergence of apocalyptic themes, and depicts the first beginnings of a shift away from the martial code of the briyuna. The older form of literature was represented in songs, poems and heroic tales which had some similarities to the romances of medieval Europe. In these tales, briyuna were invariably depicted as the epitome of honour, devotion, and self-confidence. In the tales which emerged after the arrival of Marnitja, there are new depictions of briyuna as more human and realistic, with human failings and mistakes.
Likewise, the apocalyptic themes of the time resulted in new shifts in Junditmara religion. Unlike their Gunnagalic neighbours, the Junditmara had always viewed the world and time as something with a beginning and an end, not an endless cycle of eternity. With the great dying of the early thirteenth century, their old beliefs were reshaped into a more apocalyptic theology. New religious visionaries appeared, who proclaimed that the times they were living in were the last days of the world, before the time when the Neverborn would break free from His home in the womb of the earth and call His chosen warriors to fight in the last great battle against the Lord of the Night.
Amidst the chaos of these times, one otjima family rose to prominence, one whose name would become synonymous with the most populous empire on the continent. The Yadji were one of many otjima families who had arisen amongst the Junditmara. The first surviving record of the Yadji is from 1067, when a man named Narryani Yadji led a band of briyuna to conquer a small town named Kirunmara [Terang, Victoria] and had himself proclaimed as an otjima.
Of itself, Kurinmara held little to distinguish itself from so many other small towns and settlements under the nominal rule of the Lord of the Lake. It had decent rainfall, by the standards of the Junditmara, and adequate although hardly spectacular soils. It was toward the eastern frontier of Junditmara territory, but nowhere which offered any strategic significance or even defensibility. A small lake just to the south was about the only feature of interest; to the water-loving Junditmara, this lake could be expanded into a series of swamps and open water which would supply regular meals of fish and waterbirds to the table of the ruling otjima.
Still, while the Yadji were for so long just one otjima family among many, they were reasonably successful ones. Their rulers were on the whole more capable than most of their rivals, which allowed them to conquer a reasonable stretch of territory by 1150. In this year, surviving records from Tuhunong first include a Yadji otjima among the Twenty Counsellors. This was an indication of their success, and for the next century, there would be a Yadji named to the Twenty each year.
When the first great Marnitja epidemic swept through Kurinmara in 1209, the Yadji suffered along with everyone else. Their ruling otjima died in a viral-induced delirium, and his heir, Ouyamunna Yadji, contracted the pink cough two days after he inherited the family title. However, while he waited to know whether he would live or die, he had substantial motivation to create a legacy for himself. Ouyamunna is reported to have said, “Soon I will have forgotten the world, but the world will not soon forget me.”
In the months while he waited for death, Ouyamunna found a way to create his legacy. He changed the rules of warfare as they had existed among the Junditmara for three centuries. Warfare was meant to be the role of well-trained and armoured briyuna who fought for their lord. Ouyamunna decided to recruit a new class of warrior from the men who had survived the pink cough, and who were waiting to know their fate. He is said to have told these men, “Soon you will leave the world, but the manner of your leaving it is up to you.”
The warriors who Ouyamunna recruited were mostly not briyuna, and they had limited training in using swords or wearing armour. In any case, the Yadji family did not have enough wealth to equip so many new warriors with bronze armour and swords. For weapons, he gave them axes and maces, since they were easier to find and most of the men had used such things as tools. For armour, he gave them nothing, but Ouyamunna would turn the lack of armour into an advantage. He did not have or want men who fought coolly and well-armoured. He wanted men who would be consumed with the fury of battle, and who cared naught whether they lived or died, because they already expected to die soon.
Ouyamunna got what he wanted.
The new warriors he created wore no armour, just clothes of woven flax died crimson to mark the death they already expected. Before they entered battle, these men worked themselves into a trance-like state through a combination of chanting, ritualised dancing, and consumption of native tobacco [4] and certain mushrooms which were known to deaden pain. When they entered the battle, these warriors were consumed in a violent frenzy, howling with fury, rushing headlong at the enemy regardless of the odds, and striking blows with what appeared to be superhuman strength. In their frenzy, they shrugged off wounds, and often became so indiscriminate in their killing that they would not distinguish between friend and enemy. They fought with incredible energy until the battlefield was cleared of any foes, and then as often as not, they collapsed in exhaustion and would not recover for days.
Ouyamunna did not, in fact, survive the Waiting Death. The delirium consumed him as it had consumed so many before him. He fought off the fevered delirium better than most; it took three and a half months from the onset of the delirium until he breathed his last. In that time, though, the death warriors he had created made a legacy for him. They swept battlefield after battlefield clean of foes – and sometimes each other, too. In three months, Ouyamunna defeated and conquered thirteen other otjima, and more than tripled the size of Yadji territory in the process.
The rise of the Yadji had begun.
* * *
[1] Muntries (Kunzea pomifera) are one of several native fruits common to southern Victoria which are suitable for domestication. They are used as an occasional “bushfood” today, with some commercial harvest, and have also occasionally been grown overseas. (They were first recorded as cultivated in England in 1889).
[2] While the Gunnagalic ancestors of the neighbouring peoples had practiced aquaculture, these practices were lost during the migrations.
[3] This death toll is a higher percentage of the population than Marnitja will have on most other peoples (such as Eurasians), for two reasons. Marnitja here is just emerging as an epidemic disease, and is still quite virulent. It will evolve to be somewhat less deadly over the next couple of centuries. The other reason is that since at this point the *Australian peoples have such limited exposure to epidemic diseases, their immune systems are still quite weak, and this exacerbates the death toll. Repeated exposure to Marnitja over the next few generations will not only produce some natural resistance to the disease, it will also mean that their adaptive immune systems are somewhat stronger against all diseases.
[4] The native tobacco mentioned here is grown from several native Australian plants in the Nicotiana genus (principally N. benthamiana) which are related to domesticated tobacco from the Americas (N. tabacum and N. rustica). These plants were used by various historical Aboriginal peoples as stimulants. They are not the same as the main pituri drug cultivated in allohistorical Australia; that is grown from a native corkwood species (Duboisia hopwoodii) which is only distantly related to domesticated tobacco. The Australian Nicotiana species do contain nicotine, but have a much harsher taste and milder effect than corkwood pituri, and so are not used as a major trade item. They were locally available, though, which is why they were used for creating the first death warriors.
* * *
Thoughts?
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Great instalment, Jared! The Empire of the Lake reminds me (somewhat) of the HREGN, only with more infighting. And, so far, the Yadji are creepy. I have learned from experience that suicidal Australian samurai Vikings are never a good thing. 
Given the Junditmara's predilection towards aquaculture, I wonder whether they might adopt rice agriculture once it spreads to them post-1618. Rice requires extremely intense cultivation and immense engineering works to assure a harvest, but the payoff is so immense that it might feed a Junditmara demographic and political expansion--especially if the Gunnagalic peoples don't adopt it. It's possible that the Gunnagalic experience with a perennial agricultural package could prevent them from using rice...
Just spitballing, of course. And besides, this way we wouldn't need to import the Japanese into Australia--there'd be a home-grown parallel instead.
Just spitballing, of course. And besides, this way we wouldn't need to import the Japanese into Australia--there'd be a home-grown parallel instead.
Admiral Matt
Gone Fishin'
Reminds me more of medieval Japan or France than anything else, though without some of the extremes of Japanese culture. Or horses, for that matter.
Quite interesting chapter. Junditmara warriors are somewhat similar to very different OTL groups, such as Samurai, Viking berserkers, German Freiherren, and Tutsi. One wouldn't assume such combination to be plausible... before reading Jared's work.
A question: how many Junditmara lived in their country after liberation from Watjubaga rule? Because original population of 10, 000 (or even, say, 100, 000, - after introduction of Gunnagalian crops) would be unsuitable for complex system of at least twenty principalities.
It's a contradiction, isn't it?
A question: how many Junditmara lived in their country after liberation from Watjubaga rule? Because original population of 10, 000 (or even, say, 100, 000, - after introduction of Gunnagalian crops) would be unsuitable for complex system of at least twenty principalities.
It's a contradiction, isn't it?
I liked the scolds
Oh, they're still around. All I've changed is the specific reference to "genniks" as poetic devices. They were a little too... parallel to something known elsewhere in the world.
You'll be completely deprived of Net access for two years? Wow, that's dedication.
I suspect that very little will be posted about European contact by then. At a post every fortnight, that's only another 3 or 4 posts maximum. At the very least, there will be at least 4 posts made about the other aspects of *Australasian culture.
That doesn't mean that the posts about European contact won't be written by then, though. Posts are often written some time before they get sent, since I try to work a little in advance. (Not very far in advance at the moment, to be honest, but I may get a bit ahead, depending.) I made send them to you privately if so.
Nice work Jared.
Danke.
Wonderful Jared! Go Aboriginal Samurai Vikings!
That wasn't the only cultures they were based on, but yes, there were some similarities in there somewhere.
Ninja pirates I can manage, maybe. Robots may, alas, take a bit more work.
Merci.
General fashion varies a lot, although as a general rule, bright colours are preferred. These are mostly not cultures which believe in drab cloths. I haven't gone into too much detail yet for most of the posts, though, since there's only a limited amount of space to describe everything. Mostly, the clothing will be described as part of what Europeans see when they make contact.
As it happens, though, the next Yadji post does give some description of the traditional Yadji dress, because it is such an integral part of their society. (When the next post does come out, bonus points to the first person who can guess which culture the Yadji clothing is based on.)
That's partly what it was based on, although I also had some broader inspiration from medieval France and feudal Ethiopia during the Era of the Princes.
And, so far, the Yadji are creepy. I have learned from experience that suicidal Australian samurai Vikings are never a good thing.
Suicidal *Aboriginal Rajput chivalric samurai Vikings are even less of a good thing.
Perhaps, although the Gunnagal along the Murray itself use aquaculture, too. The Murray is, incidentally, the best place in Australia to grow rice; that's where a lot of it is grown in OTL. So I'm not sure which way this one could go. Rice certainly sustains more people per acre than almost anything else. (Except potatoes. Nothing beats potatoes.) So it could lead to a demographic expansion.
Just spitballing, of course. And besides, this way we wouldn't need to import the Japanese into Australia--there'd be a home-grown parallel instead.
Heh. Don't tempt me.
The lack of horses is a big one, of course. Although it's not quite like medieval Japan in terms of extremes, it does have some extremes of its own. (Death warriors are a product of a combination of circumstances.)
In terms of general inspiration, I drew from a variety of sources. Medieval Japan certainly played a part, but the briyuna are drawn from elements of quite a few warrior societies and fuedal systems. There are some significant parallels to European fuedalism and codes of chivalry for instance. Honour was as important to the knights as it was to samurai, and the idea of duels between briyuna in peacetime is similar to medieval jousts (without horses) rather than anything from the samurai. The importance of being literate and well-read in the classics (Greek and Latin) and in some other peacetime arts (oratory, athletics, dancing) was also important for knights, just as literacy was for samurai.
The other major inspiration was actually some Indian cultures. There's a couple of aspects of the Vedic kshatriya warrior code from India (e.g. war should not harm the civilian population; a traitor should always be killed even if he is a defector to your side - still should kill them). There's also some most specific Rajput aspects, such as the condemnation of cowardice and a willingness to fight to the death - which the Rajputs were famous for doing.
There were all sorts of aspects of warrior societies in there; lots of societies have warrior codes. I wasn't specifically trying to emulate the Tutsi, but on reflection they do have a couple of parallels.
Population actually grew considerably under Watjubaga rule, even though the Junditmara don't really recognise it. This was because the Empire spread new farming techniques and, for all of the revolts, there was more peace than there was during the internecine days of the old Junditmara kingdoms.
The population after liberation from Watjubaga rule was somewhere between 250,000 and 500,000; I haven't specified exactly what it was at that time. (It expanded during the time of the Empire of the Lake). By the time of 1618 there are about 700,000 Junditmara in the Yadji Empire, forming about a third of the total population.
Indeed. Should've been just "bronze armour" for the briyuna, not full bronze armour. (If memory serves, I wrote that section before I worked out the likely volume of bronze being exported from *Tasmania.) The latter is indeed mostly restricted to the Cider Isle; most mainland warriors have either a breastplate or shield out of bronze, and if they are lucky, a helmet and/or greaves. The briyuna would not have a full set of bronze armour except in exceptional circumstances; a few veteran officers might, or might not. If an otjima stepped onto the battlefield, they would have the best bronze kit which they could manage, but most of their briyuna wouldn't.
Things get even more complicated when you consider the ironworking which is spreading on the mainland, but more of that anon.
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The Sandman
Banned
Another excellent installment, Jared!
One minor thought: it seems likely, assuming that the armor (for officers, at least) is a private possession, that a Junditmara officer would use some pattern of gold and/or silver filigree to denote rank, especially in a formal setting where you don't need some sort of highly visible hat in order to be seen over the heads of other soldiers. And for a purely ceremonial suit of armor for those of high enough rank that they aren't likely to be promoted further, the gold/silver might be laid directly into the bronze when the breastplate is cast.
This would also be something that would spur adoption of iron armor by the upper ranks, since unless I'm much mistaken such a rank insignia (especially the versions set in gold) will be much more visible when laid onto iron than onto bronze.
One other minor question: does Australia have any native pearl oysters, and if so are any of the *Aboriginal cultures deliberately farming them at this point?
One minor thought: it seems likely, assuming that the armor (for officers, at least) is a private possession, that a Junditmara officer would use some pattern of gold and/or silver filigree to denote rank, especially in a formal setting where you don't need some sort of highly visible hat in order to be seen over the heads of other soldiers. And for a purely ceremonial suit of armor for those of high enough rank that they aren't likely to be promoted further, the gold/silver might be laid directly into the bronze when the breastplate is cast.
This would also be something that would spur adoption of iron armor by the upper ranks, since unless I'm much mistaken such a rank insignia (especially the versions set in gold) will be much more visible when laid onto iron than onto bronze.
One other minor question: does Australia have any native pearl oysters, and if so are any of the *Aboriginal cultures deliberately farming them at this point?
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