Here's an odd matter to think about.

Since I don't believe the spread of muskox wool or upcoming rumors of virgin lands that pagan Norse Scandinavians and Icelanders could possibly flee to will butterfly the overall course of the Reconquista, let alone the spread of Sufi missionaries into Malaysia and Indonesia and subsequent spread of more orthodox Sunni clerics into Sulawesi and Mindanao, will there possibly one day be spread of Sephardic Jews, Moriscos, and/or Bornean or Javanese into the New World?

The reason I ask is that I want to read about the travelogues of Jewish and/or Muslim travelers, especially their reactions to local cuisine, and the goings-on at potlatches and the Southwest, Mesoamerican, and Mississippian equivalents.

Also, I want to see the impact of Fusinia on Japanese and Korean cuisine, and vice-versa. While in OTL Japonica rice has been cultivated at least as far north in North America as the Mackenzie river valley, volunteer yuzu trees have been found growing even further north. Imagine a "poor man's sushi" cuisine culture made from iris or wild rice, yuzu juice, and locally harvested carrageen, topped/stuffed with locally ocean caught salmon (since there would be taboos against using salmon from Columbia/Snake, Willamette, and Mackenzie river salmon runs, especially raw), barn door Pacific halibut, tuna, and mackerel, with local fish sauce, common bean soy sauce, and local chili paste in place of wasabi as (until the secret of wasabi cultivation spreads to Fusinia) as condiments! Imagine what expatriate Koreans could do in the Pacific Northwest adapting the concept of bulgogi, or what a Malay or Javanese enclave on the Pacific Coast of Mesoamerica or far South Fusinia could do with satay and local ingredients!
 
Last edited:
Since I don't believe the spread of muskox wool or upcoming rumors of virgin lands that pagan Norse Scandinavians and Icelanders could possibly flee to will butterfly the overall course of the Reconquista, let alone the spread of Sufi missionaries into Malaysia and Indonesia and subsequent spread of more orthodox Sunni clerics into Sulawesi and Mindanao, will there possibly one day be spread of Sephardic Jews, Moriscos, and/or Bornean or Javanese into the New World?
For anything Southeast Asia, I'd have to do more research. I think you can tell that trade with Fusania begins as a Sinosphere thing, meaning I'm not sure how much, if any, Southeast Asian powers would contribute. Vietnam is a different story however, but I'm not sure how much of a will there would be for such overseas ventures, especially since it would mean interfering with China.

Norse Paganism would be mostly extinct by 1200 AD. Venarfjord in Markland usually has a priest from Greenland (which had its own bishop at Gardar) overseeing the church in that region. In some areas, failed trading posts/settlements or the Norse being perceived as allied with enemies has resulted in relations with the Amerindians being challenging, so anyone trying to flee to the New World would run into a lot of difficulties.

Sephardim/Moriscos would go along with OTL Spanish exploration, although of course as crypto-Jews/crypto-Muslims. For anything more than that, I'm not sure yet. The primary group of Muslims would of course be Hui Chinese.
While in OTL Japonica rice has been cultivated at least as far north in North America as the Mackenzie river valley, volunteer yuzu trees have been found growing even further north
Has it? My understanding was that it was difficult to cultivate rice in climates much worse than southern British Columbia, but I suppose that's modern, commercial rice-growing. OTL rice wasn't grown much in Karafuto Prefecture when the Japanese ruled it.
Also, I want to see the impact of Fusinia on Japanese and Korean cuisine, and vice-versa. While in OTL Japonica rice has been cultivated at least as far north in North America as the Mackenzie river valley, volunteer yuzu trees have been found growing even further north. Imagine a "poor man's sushi" cuisine culture made from iris or wild rice, yuzu juice, and locally harvested carrageen, topped/stuffed with locally ocean caught salmon (since there would be taboos against using salmon from Columbia/Snake, Willamette, and Mackenzie river salmon runs, especially raw), barn door Pacific halibut, tuna, and mackerel, with local fish sauce, common bean soy sauce, and local chili paste in place of wasabi as (until the secret of wasabi cultivation spreads to Fusinia) as condiments! Imagine what expatriate Koreans could do in the Pacific Northwest adapting the concept of bulgogi, or what a Malay or Javanese enclave on the Pacific Coast of Mesoamerica or far South Fusinia could do with satay and local ingredients!
I've definitely thought about the sort of fusion cuisine TTL a lot. I know relatives of the omodaka (Sagittaria species, omodaka is the OTL Japanese name for a few species) I describe TTL are used in East Asian cuisine, but presumably the larger, more succulent Fusanian omodaka sees a lot more use. Camas would be akin to sweet potato perhaps in its use. A lot of other domesticates would probably be mostly local things in Fusania or random regions of Japan or China or elsewhere they got imported to by an enterprising landowner or merchant. Notably, a lot of Fusanian crops like camas and biscuitroot could do well in the drier parts of interior Northern China (as it's similar to the Columbia Plateau in terms of soil and to a degree in climate, although the dry season and rainy seasons are reversed which may be an issue). Bistort and sweetvetch and riceroot would make good vegetables or animal feed in high-elevation, mountainous areas.

Halibut certainly forms a major part of the diet TTL, as it does OTL, although I've never had it as sushi. I wasn't aware of any taboos on salmon caught in rivers in Asia--I don't think that would transfer to the New World, the hybrid culture would be so used to salmon fishing thanks to their Fusanian ancestry (i.e. thousands of years of relying on salmon) and associated rituals it would overcome cultural distaste. Perhaps you'd also have some lesser fish like the hardy cyprinids who live in the wetlands where omodaka and other water crops are grown used as well, but most seem rather small so you'd probably fry them up as tempura (assuming the Portuguese still introduce it to Japan that is!).

But a lot does depend about what crosses the Pacific. I wouldn't be surprised if the difference between Fusania-Asian cuisine and that of the cuisine in the Asian motherland as being similar to the distinction between Mexican and Spanish cuisine. A lot of interesting ideas you're bringing up (reindeer bulgogi, sounds tasty), that's for sure.
 
Well, even if the Japanese never gain Tempura-style deep frying, they still haved Kara-Age, which uses breadcrumbs and/or flour for the coating. The same for Korean Twiggim and Chinese Zha.

My reference to the taboo over river-caught raw salmon for sushi is that without cooking or cold smoking it would (statically speaking) likely carry parasites from the bears, cougars, bobcats, martens, and otters that would have been taking advantage of the salmon run alongside humans, the same reason no one who knows what s/he is doing eats raw or even rare pork. This is true about almost all freshwater fish except catfish, paddlefish, sturgeon, eels, and stingrays. However, freshwater eels carry salmonella, and stingrays excrete urea into their muscle meat, requiring either wet aging, or treatment with some strong acid or base to be palatable to most people.

I keep imagining a Fusanian version of Guljeolpan (Korean Nine Hole Dish) , with corn, chia, amaranth, mesquite, and goosefoot flour tortillas in place of miljeonbyeong. it would feature squash among the vegetables, and reindeer venison, moose meat, and duck meat among the proteins. I also keep imagining the siu style of Chinese Barbecue giving rise to alder smoked duck rubbed with salt and local varieties of five spice powder!
 
The next update will almost certainly be Tuesday and cover the Wayamese Empire in the aftermath of the plagues.
My reference to the taboo over river-caught raw salmon for sushi is that without cooking or cold smoking it would (statically speaking) likely carry parasites from the bears, cougars, bobcats, martens, and otters that would have been taking advantage of the salmon run alongside humans, the same reason no one who knows what s/he is doing eats raw or even rare pork. This is true about almost all freshwater fish except catfish, paddlefish, sturgeon, eels, and stingrays. However, freshwater eels carry salmonella, and stingrays excrete urea into their muscle meat, requiring either wet aging, or treatment with some strong acid or base to be palatable to most people.
How high is the actual risk relative to ocean caught fish? But it does make perfect sense now that I think of it and I haven't encountered a lot of references to traditional raw fish eating in the sources I've read. Plenty of course involving drying, and TTL there evolves a tradition of smokehouses in some parts of the Imaru Basin for a reason you'll see next update.
I keep imagining a Fusanian version of Guljeolpan (Korean Nine Hole Dish) , with corn, chia, amaranth, mesquite, and goosefoot flour tortillas in place of miljeonbyeong. it would feature squash among the vegetables, and reindeer venison, moose meat, and duck meat among the proteins. I also keep imagining the siu style of Chinese Barbecue giving rise to alder smoked duck rubbed with salt and local varieties of five spice powder!
That would have to be a "pan-Fusanian" dish given corn, chia, mesquite are South Fusanian while reindeer and moose are pretty much exclusively North Fusanian meats as only those in the northernmost parts of OTL California raise and eat reindeer and moose, although the Wakashans along the coast like in the OTL Bay Area or parts of Mendocino County do raise a few (and the Wakashans are not well-liked for being slavers--I do plan on revisiting South Fusania i.e. OTL California in a few updates). The equivalent of tortillas/flatbreads/pancakes along the Imaru Basin is typically made from acorn flour (which would also be very common in South Fusania). Something an adventurous chef might create I suppose but not something a hybrid culture would devise on their own. It all does sound very tasty, especially the latter.
 
Chapter 62-Healing With Fire
-LXII-
"Healing With Fire"

Pataatlatimna, son of Aanwaakutl, ascended to the title of Pillar King in a Wayamese Empire torn by warfare and plague. A popular ruler, he fought in the campaigns of Tsanahuutimna, Aanwaakutl, and Kawkhikha, the latter of which won him great fame as a successful general against the Chiyatsuru Revolt. Aanwaakutl's favourite son, Pataatlatimna was well-known and beloved among the majority of the nobility, although in battle he was considered a harsh disciplinarian.

However, times had changed since the epidemics of the early 1220s that killed nearly 10% of the Wayamese population. The people were shellshocked by years of warfare and disease and turned to alternative explanations. Stories suggest Pataatlatimna found little acclaim by the crowds on his election, instead only indifference and eyes and posture that demanded him to solve the crisis Wayam found itself in. Pataatlatimna chose to solve the crisis the way he knew best--overwhelming force.

The Prophet

Prophets arose in this time of crisis, the best documented of these being the prophet Lunipyush whose name is attested several times as a petroglyph of a burning serpent (a reference to the meaning of his name). Traditional history describes Lunipyush as an ordinary shaman from the regions near Chemna who fell ill with both chickenpox and mumps and during his month-long illness and near-death received incredible visions from where he communed directly with the gods and learned new truths about the world. In exchange for the power to heal, the gods ordered Lunipyush to exhort the people to morality to restore the balance of the land. When true balance came about, the world would be correctly ordered and all illness, warfare, and suffering would depart forever.

Working primarily as a doctor, in the 1220s Lunipyush gathered a substantial following as both a healer and a speaker. Entire villages turned out to hear him speak and perform miracles which included the cure of all sorts of illness and deformity. Legends told of rival shamans who condemned him as a fraud and agent of imbalance who Lunipyush struck with blisters and other diseases which he then proceded to heal. Many appreciated Lunipyush's austerity--he wore only simple cedar-bark robes with a worn copper plate around his neck as a humble village shaman or healer might, ate meals only provided by his followers, and owned few belongings besides a walking stick.

Records on the Prophet Lunipyush date from hagiographical oral traditions, although his story bears similarity to other prophets from the Sibling Prophets to the Tenepelu Prophet Qiilekhnikh. Many aspects of his life remained shrouded in myth and folklore, and even Katlamat School historians doubted the sheer number of innovations attributed to him in terms of medical practices, diet, and philosophy. He was likely born around 1175 in the town of Tacht north of Chemna [1], a future holy site, and spent his early days accompanying the Wayamese military as an apprenticed healer. He likely was product of rigorous shamanic training who traveled far and wide and synthesised many beliefs--and his own innovations--into a coherent worldview and religious revival.

Lunipyush's message revolved around the healing powers of the elements. As the world found itself reshaped by earth, fire, wind, and water, or the combination of all forces (usually translated as aether), the same applied to all the spirits who lived within the world, including humans. A "positive" reshaping balanced the forces and produced aether, a divine substance found in the spiritual worlds around the Earth that improved the health of the entire world. When out of balance, the forces ran out of control and caused destruction to the spirit, forcing the spirit to absorb aether from the environment to survive. The production and absorption of aether affected the world and environment around oneself, meaning everyone needed to live a balanced life lest the world suffer. The powerful spirits humans possessed meant they needed to be especially wary of their actions lest it trigger a backlash from the world around them that would harm innocents.

Fire functioned as the integral element to Lunipyush's healing methods. In Lunipyush's view, spiritual imbalance caused disease and part of the attempts at healing involved the body creating its own fire. This neatly explained the tendency of disease to occur in cooler weather such as the epidemics. Actual fire thus functioned as a distilled medicine in of itself, used to heat substances to apply to the body, be breathed in, or be taken orally. Healers thus applied heated pads, scalding water, and hot copper pokers to disease conditions that presented themselves externally. For internal conditions, they applied these to five points on the body where the soul affixed itself to physicality. His adult followers held many burn scars in these areas from repeated treatments.

He cured spiritual diseases or those inflicted by witchcraft in a similar fashion. Instead of simply placing his mouth to a patient and sucking out the evil, Lunipyush first burnt the spot with a poker and blew his own spiritual essence into the patient. He then sucked out the offending object "shot" into the body and burned it in the fire. After drinking cold water with herbs, he blew through a blowpipe more flames and smoke at the spot where he sucked at.

Lunipyush denied practicing sorcery and condemned those who used his received wisdom to do so. However, sorcerers who followed him employed similar veneration of fire in their methods and employed a variety of tools (often a blowpipe) and rituals to shoot spiritual objects into their victims. Lunipyush was blamed for why Aipakhpam sorcerers in later eras inflicted "dreadful fevers" on their victims, caused spontaneous human combustion, or discovered ways to burn down a victim's home or even entire village through mastery of spirits attracted to fire, most notably those which appeared in the form of moths.

Other practical aspects of Lunipyush's philosophy over the centuries blended themselves into traditional Fusanian customs. For instance, Lunipyush healed using hot and cold water. He and his followers boiled two pots of water in copper kettles, heating the fire with a specific mixture of charcoal and sage. They doused their hands in both the hot and cold water as soon as it ceased boiling before touching the patient in any way, altering the immersion times in each depending on the illness. The hot water and antimicrobial copper thus enabled them to touch patients with illness like shimui without ever contracting the illness themselves, a miraculous feat attributed to balancing water and fire.

Lunipyush's philosophy and healing methods borrowed much previous Fusanian methods, such as the magical properties of copper and to a degree even the use of hot objects. He excessively analysed the nature of conditions in determining their nature as physical or spiritual. Yet Lunipyush universalised the practice of employing hot water, heated pokers, and other treatments of fire as a cure for nearly every disease not solely a disease of the spirit.

Naturally, the science behind heat, hot water, and copper remained unknown in Fusania for centuries to come. Fusanian scholars frequently debated the meaning of why Lunipyush's methods seemed so much more successful than those which came before him or the methods of those barbarians around them. Many came to improve on these methods in ways that minimised the risk of infected burns and other deadly conditions while others explained them in ways Lunipyush himself would find abhorrent. Yet the fact remains that Lunipyush's methods lay at the heart of traditional Fusanian medicine.

Lunipyush's followers observed unique dietary habits they believed ensured health and good spirit, habits that over time spread to the Aipakhpam people as a whole and to a lesser degree other Fusanian peoples. For instance, they preferred drinks either hot or cold (as chilled in a qanat or by harvested ice) and shunned lukewarm beverages unless they boiled or chilled them first. On the five days leading up to the winter solstice, they lit no fires except for the sake of boiling water or herbal teas--this belief was said to preserve energy for the sun. Their preference for smoked food led to the creation of the traditional Fusanian smokehouse, where they used complex mixtures of herbs and wood to smoke their meat. Their belief in respecting nature's gifts created a taboo on eating eggs or fish roe, as they believed eating these foods to be disrespectful and damaging to the harvest.

Lunipyush's morality centered on respecting gifts from nature, avoiding unnecessary conflict, and strict adherence to ritual. For instance, dances and offerings must regularly be made as a way for humans to pay back the spirits of the world for all they borrowed. The hierarchal order in society, established by the gods in eras long past, must be upheld at all costs, yet each group needed to fulfill their duties lest they cause disorder, and it was never wrong to remind someone of a different class or member of clan their duty.

The latter naturally caused great conflict with magistrates and government officials, as Lunipyush and his followers often spoke of the Pillar King Kawkhikha as a great sinner and ordered him to repent. For this they found themselves beaten or imprisoned, yet none ever laid a hand on Lunipyush. Some stories attribute this to his spiritual powers but as early as Gaiyuchul in the late 15th century, the true reason was that Kawkhikha wished to keep the peace and ordered Lunipyush remain unharmed.

Further came Lunipyush's criticism of the cult of the Imaru. He preached the Imaru River held no special significance and while its spirits required veneration, they must not be venerated at the expense of other spirits. This belief resonated with many regional people who felt the centrally promoted cult of the Imaru overstepped its bounds into wastefulness or even blasphemy when they demolished or reappropriated local shrines, giving Lunipyush a ready audience. Predictably, this caused yet more tension with the Wayamese government.

In 1226, this led to a revolt in a village near the city of Chemna on the banks of the Imaru where Lunipyush was preaching. Legend states his followers reappropriated a shrine to the Imaru spirits back to its original form venerating a local mountain. When local bureaucrats went to arrest Lunipyush's followers, his followers resisted and fought them, killing several. A general revolt broke out in that area following rumours of Wyaich'nutl leading an army to enslave everyone in the village for life for their rebellion.

This premonition proved self-fulfilling--the mobilisation of peasants provoked Pataatlatimna to dispatch his co-prince of Wayam into the region with an army. Wyaich'nutl slaughtered many and arrested the few survivors. All besides the nobles and Lunipyush himself were sentenced to forced labour, while Lunipyush was dragged before Pataatlatimna to answer for himself.

Instead of punishment, Pataatlatimna desired to listen to Lunipyush, likely because of both his large following and fear of Lunipyush's spiritual power. He brought Lunipyush before him and ordered his court to listen to the message from the Prophet as he debated his high priest and other court shamans and healers. Impressed by the prophet's performance, Pataatlatimna pardoned all of his followers arrested for the rebellion on the condition they seek permission before attacking shrines, a condition Lunipyush agreed to. This begins a period of effective state support for Lunipyush's message as Lunipyush and his followers preached freely.

Powerful opposition still arose. Traditional healers across the Wayamese Empire repeated their warnings about Lunipyush and the priests of the Imaru and Kuskuskai Rivers in particular condemned him. Opposition took on ethnic and regional characteristics, as many within Wayam, in particular the western half, resented an Aipakhpam shaman with his foreign views attempting to impose them. The opposition found their champion in Saq'antaikhusus, East King of Siminekem.

The South King and the East King

Saq'antaikhusus, a favourite of Aanwaakutl, rose to power thanks to his unsuccessful campaign turned successful pilgrimage into the Kuskuskai Plain. He was favoured by the religious of his people for his public piety and equally favoured for those military exploits he succeeded at. He effectively served as the East King in the eyes of many outside Siminekem thanks to his elder brother's laziness. His elder brother Hatyataqanin died in 1221, and the traditional republican councils of Siminekem appointed him prince of the city. Following this election, Kawkhikha named him East King.

Saq'antaikhusus knew the pressing concerns of those Tenepelu cities subject to him, and that centered around the South King's rule over the key road that led to the Mat'alayma cities of the Upper Kuskuskai. Tok'onatin and Maqsmaqspa still lay occupied by the South King, a conflict that inflamed tensions between the Tenepelu and the South King for nearly 30 years at this point. Unlike his older brother whose indolence led him to only make only token attempts at rectifying this situation, Saq'antaikhusus aggressively pushed the point in meetings and dispatches with both his rival and the Wayamese court.

Both Kawkhikha and Pataatlatimna attempted peaceful resolution to the crisis, yet both sides refused to budge. During the epidemics, low-intensity raiding and banditry occurred and each side flung accusations of witchcraft at each other, made worse as several South Kings died in succession along with their families. This left the military leader Khtumekhismi as South King, and Khtumekhismi wasted no time putting to work his natural skill--intrigue.

Khtumekhismi knew the Wayamese leadership well, for before the death of much of his family, he worked variably as a bureaucrat and soldier. He spent much time at Wayam in his youth and knew the royal family very well and married both Wyaich'unatl's sister and married his daughter to Tsanahuuwaptas, a younger son of Pataatlatimna whom he mentored. He made himself useful to the Wayamese Empire in 1226 by assisting Pataatlatimna with a great ceremonial campaign against the Maguraku Prince of Doyilk'at where he destroyed his armies, sacked his capital, and freed many Wayamese slaves. Through the rest of that year he inflicted heavy defeats on the Hill Tanne, Nama, Ancestral Cayuse, and Amorera in the most successful anti-Hillman campaign in well over a decade.

Khtumekhishmi used his profits from the campaign to launch a counterattack against Saq'antaikhusus using hired mercenaries in 1227. Khtumekhishmi's raiders struck as far as the Kuskuskai Plain. Saq'antaikhusus crushed many of the mercenaries and sent an ultimatum to Pataatlatimna--punish Khtumekhishmi and force him to pay reparations for the damage his raiders caused. Khtumekhishmi claimed his raids served to extract his own reparations Saq'antaikhusus's people caused.

Pataatlatimna saw this conflict as an opportunity to reform Tenepelu institutions such as their republican noble councils into a manner more fit for serving the Wayamese Empire. He viewed the Tenepelu belief in Qiilekhnikh's message of conditional servitude to the Pillar King as a potential threat and sought a more direct form of control. Further, the East King was unpopular in Chemna, P'mna, and many other ethnic Aipakhpam areas for his perceived foreign nature--with these regional divisions, Pataatlatimna saw an opportunity in forcing Saq'antaikhusus to the bargain table as N'chiyaka describes.

"And so the great Pillar King Pataatlatimna summoned unto him the King of the East Saq'antaikhusus and spoke 'Oh King of the East, will you at last find mutual peace with the King of the South as the people of your land desire?' Saq'antaikhusus replied unto the Pillar King 'Peace in our land shall not be found through peace with that man. Peace with that man shall be found when that man makes peace with himself.' The rebukes of Saq'antaikhusus brought sorrow unto Pataatlatimna and he did lament unto his wife 'Why must those who serve the balance of our land find no balance within themselves?'"

The Tenepelu of Siminekem and other cities learned of the Pillar King's refusal to side with them on this matter. Rumours spread that their priests proclaimed the time had come that they no longer needed to serve the Pillar King since he had grown wicked. In 1227, frenzied riots occurred in several Tenepelu towns against ethnic Aipakhpam merchants and bureaucrats, forcing Saq'antaikhusus to make his decision--he would no longer respect the authority of the current Pillar King as the institution lost its way from the time of Q'mitlwaakutl. This marked the start of the Tenepelu Revolt.

The Tenepelu Revolt

Like the Chiyatsuru Revolt, the Tenepelu Revolt proved to be a bloody conflict driven by many underlying factors. Foremost among them lay in the increasing demands of the Wayamese government in reaction toward declining income and the epidemics and second the clash over the cities of Tok'onatin and Maqsmaqspa. Yet the conflict took on great ethnoreligious tones, as at its core lay the unique method the Tenepelu came into the Wayamese Empire. Wayam never conquered the Tenepelu and always treated them with great autonomy thanks to the Prophet Qiilekhnikh encouraging submission to the descendents of Q'mitlwaakutl should they remain worthy. As Wayam's rule turned to perceived oppression, the Tenepelu simply refused to submit any longer.

Ethnic Aipakhpam inhabited the wealther and more developed lands in the west, and these lands naturally remained loyal to Wayam. The Commandant (patwanatla) of Chemna Prefecture, the young Chiyatsuru war veteran Ttl'aakhwakhtl, immediately mobilised a great force from his prefecture with his inspiring speeches. The Prophet Lunipyush urged caution and prayed for peace, yet his followers intepreted his words to uphold balance in the realm as support for war.

The disputed areas in the South King's realm inhabited by ethnic Tenepelu similarly revolted against their overlord. They raised their own force of warriors and joined the East King's armies. This offense against the South King ensured Khtumekhismi took a personal role in the conflict and devoted all of his efforts to subduing the revolt in this land he so rightfully conquered.

Pataatlatimna wished to join the effort against the rebellion himself, yet an intensification of Coastman raids led him to focus his own defensive efforts primarily in the west. The otherwise inferior forces of the Tenepelu thus gained a crucial advantage over the Wayamese, one that would prolong the revolt for many years. As a result, he granted Wyaich'nutl, hungry for glory, the title of atatiwishmyuukh (war master) in addition to his position as co-prince of Wayam and 2,400 elite men from the Central Province.

Khtumekhismi allowed Wyaich'nutl the honour of commanding this force of nearly 12,000 men, intending for him to take the blame should anything go wrong. Against Ttl'aakhwakhtl's protests, they dragged the Chemnese warriors alongside them for a decisive force. Only a few pro-Wayamese rebel warbands stayed behind to guard the area. This army followed the Kuskuskai River with a fleet in tow carrying supplies.

The Wayamese far outnumbered the Tenepelu and possessed a great advantage in equipment, with many heavy infantry units armed with bronze weapons and armour. Elite pananikinsh units from the capital joined them led by the prince Tsanahuuwaptas. The Tenepelu possessed one crucial advantage however--their veteran skirmishers fighting on local terrain. Therefore Saq'antaikhusus baited a trap, taking advantage of the overconfidence of the Wayamese leaders in their well-armed veteran soldiers.

Saq'antaikhusus shadowed the Wayamese Army with his skirmishers and used local Tenepelu villagers to convince the Wayamese that his main force remained far away. Near the mouth of the Tokara River at the village of Tokalatoino [2], Saq'antaikhusus attacked Wayamese skirmishers on the heights and slaughtered them to a man and then attacked the Wayamese below with the full force of his army. He committed his limited heavy infantry (called sekhseqtwekus, a cognate of pananikinsh) straight into the forefront, yet the power of his skirmishers repelled attempts at outflanking them. Repeated attacks by skirmishers, including archers and slingers posted from the heights, led to the breakthrough by the Tenepelu wedge.

At this point, Khtumekhismi fled the battlefield, heavily injured in both arms. Wyaich'nutl fought his way out of an encirclement and retreated after him. The battered remnants of Ttl'aakhwakhtl's Chemnese managed to flee last, who legend claims Wyaich'nutl spoke of as "fanatics whose only value is shielding the righteous." Gaiyuchul of Katlamat describes the aftermath in Saga of the Four Corners:

"No graver defeat might Wayam suffer in that time and few graver defeats Wayam suffered before or since. In that moment the force of brave peasants and devoted men crushed the invincible force of the Pillar King and his hubris. The leaders of that force lost all wisdom as they marched into a trap and only through great spiritual will did they ever regain it. Those self-interested leaders fled their duties as ruler and grievously betrayed their followers yet in arrogance demanded their allegiance. Ttl'aakhwakhtl--and all Chemnese--remembered until the end of his days the grave insults and suffering the Wayamese cowardice visited upon them in the name of their avarice. The Wayamese Empire as it was perished at Tokalatoino."

Saq'antaikhusus followed up this great victory by unleashing his Tenepelu to pillage the Mid-Imaru as far as the Tabachiri Valley. Only remnant Wayamese guerilla forces slowed down the raiders and pillagers. Their main force devoted itself to plundering the cities of the Waruna River [3] and as autumn arrived finally captured Pashkhash, the second most important city of the South King's realm. Their pillaging and raids were brutal and fierce, sacking many shrines and villages and capturing many as slaves. The devastation continued as winter ended in 1228, with the Wayamese still unable to offer much resistance. Saq'antaikhusus captured Tok'onatin and Maqsmaqspa with the aid of their residents, adding yet more to his strength.

Pataatlatimna offered no aid that year and very little the next year. His campaigns against the Hillmen drew all of his attention, particularly after the Wakashans (probably the Khayta) devastated Tlat'sap in September 1227. Inconclusive battles and costly victories against the Wakashans, and resurgent Central Dena sapped the manpower of the Wayamese.

The decrease in manpower from epidemics and warfare altered many Wayamese military practices, and Pataatlatimna found clever workarounds. He gave incentives for rulers to provide more manpower, including temporary exemptions from tribute and corvee demands and an increased share of the plunder. For the most powerful and successful rulers, Pataatlatimna gave them titles of high prestige such as atatiwishmyuukh (War Leader). While it is unknown how many rulers he created atatiwishmyuukh, the proliferation of this title in later eras of Fusania suggest at least a few powerful rulers gained it.

The Tenepelu and Saq'antaikhusus became victims of their success. A great conflict among nobles who served the East King both Tenepelu and Aipakhpam lay in the division of lands in the interior of the Imaru Plateau. Incensed by perceived enroachment from the Chiyatsuru over the years and wanting even more payback for Chiyatsuru offenses against them in the Chiyatsuru Revolt a decade prior, these tensions spilled over into regional conflict in late 1227. The North King, Nkakham, who prior to this point lent only a few forces to the conflict thanks to his own challenges with the Hillmen and internal conflict, assembled a great army against the Tenepelu.

Nkakham's army, however, lacked discipline as the epidemics prevented the region from recovering from the destruction of the brutal Chiyatsuru Revolt. His warriors rarely obeyed orders and committed wanton pillaging against both allies and enemies, further inflaming tensions. Lunipyush condemned the men as mere brigands and begged the Wayamese government to restrain them, while Ttl'aakhwakhtl himself organised defense efforts and clashed with Nkakham. Saq'antaikhusus spent much time in 1228 chasing down these warbands before destroying them with overwhelming force in late summer 1228, killing the North King in battle along with over 4,000 of his warriors. Survivors regrouped in the north under Nkakham's son (soon confirmed as the new North King), continuing to harass Saq'antaikhusus's flank to little success.

In autumn 1228, Pataatlatimna and the West King Qwiqw'us sued for peace with the Wakashans, permitting their settlement at the mouth of the Imaru River free from all sumptuary laws or other oppressive measures placed on Coastmen in exchange for a return of prisoners and a cession of raids. This treaty proved immensely unpopular with the Namals of the Lower Imaru who viewed it as reconstituting the power of their most bitter enemy, the Coastmen who once ruled the mouth of the Imaru. Gaiyuchul states the following:

"In this peace with the accursed Coastmen, the great Pataatlatimna betrayed the west for the east and justified his actions in the name of balance. He believed in error chose better in fighting only one foe at a time yet he once again found a false step on the path toward balance. He made the critical error of permitting a weaker foe gain strength while throwing all he held at a stronger foe. The Coastmen returned to plague the mouth of the Imaru after decades of absence and brought suffering to the people of the Imaru."

In time this drove a wedge between the Namals and the peoples of the Whulge coast, as the former believed the burden of the peace treaty fell disproportionately on them at the bequest of the Whulchomic peoples and their perceived leader, the distant West King Qwiqw'us. Yet for the meantime, this successful peace in the west allowed Pataatlatimna to focus all his effort in subjugating the Tenepelu rebels. Thousands of Wayamese soldiers poured east, including many veterans of this campaign.

Leading an army of 9,600 men himself, Pataatlatimna's fresh forces launched a great campaign against the Tenepelu rebels in 1229. They took a more southerly path along the Tsuushi River [4]. Saq'antaikhusus once again laid a trap for the Wayamese army at the crossing of the Tukenen River by the town of Patit [5], attacking them with his own army of 6,400 men. Pataatlatimna's scouts caught wind of this trap and allowed Pataatlatimna to blunt the impact of the ferocious Tenepelu skirmishers and prevent another encirclement. However, he found himself unable to finish off Saq'antaikhusus's forces thanks to the low morale and prior desertion of many of his Namal levies thanks to the events in the west as well as Pataatlatimna's demand for discipline. As a result, Saq'antaikhusus pulled back in an organised retreat before he lost too many soldiers.

Both sides claimed victory, yet Pataatlatimna stopped his march toward Siminekem out of worry of further traps and ambushes. Desertion remained high and morale low, and inauspicious signs including severe thunderstorms and early autumn rainfall further halted the movements of his army. As a result, the grand campaign Pataatlatimna envision only captured a few Tenepelu towns such as Kikhlish and Pataha, which he ordered razed and pillaged as warnings to Saq'antaikhusus and allegedly to keep his Namal soldiers fighting. Reputedly the sack of Kikhlish involved a massacre so great the city was never rebuilt. Angered at this indiscipline, Pataatlatimna ordered 400 of his own soldiers drowned for the needless violence they committed.

Pataatlatimna suffered a sudden illness in 1230 and command devolved once again to Wyaich'nutl. With overwhelming force, Wyaich'nutl followed his initial path along the Kuskuskai in an attempt to avenge himself for his earlier humiliation. Saq'antaikhusus once again attempted to lure Wyaich'nutl into a trap, yet he learned from his previous mistakes and repelled these tricks with his skirmishers. Wyaich'nutl crossed the Kuskuskai and made a daring assault on Saq'antaikhusus's camp outside the town of Pinawawi [6]. Saq'antaikhusus's warriors bolted at the sudden ambush and retreated and many were destroyed by raiding bands from the North King's army. The way to Siminekem now lay open and Saq'antaikhusus fled to his home city with his guard to prepare a defense.

After this decisive victory, Wyaich'nutl's men continued in the indiscipline common to the Wayamese. They sacked village after village, looting livestock and enslaving every Tenepelu woman or child they came across. Larger towns they lay siege to and often managed to open the gates under all manner of trickery. The Tenepelu attempted to harass their advance yet Wayam's forces dispersed them every time.

In early autumn 1230, the Wayamese stormed the walls of Siminekem, taking horrible losses in the process thanks to their demand for a quick result as autumn fast approached. As they cut down the remaining defenders, the Wayamese viciously looted the city. Wyaich'nutl ordered the razing of the city starting with the palace. The East King and his family either perished in this fire, bringing an end to the Tenepelu Revolt. Thousands died at Siminekem and thousands more were enslaved, destroying the prosperity of a once powerful city for generations.

Aftermath and remainder of Pataatlatimna's rule

While periodic looting and resistance occurred in 1231, the rebellion effectively ended after the fall of Siminekem. Pataatlatimna concluded peace with the remaining Tenepelu rebels, forcing them to pay tribute to his new East King, the general Wapnyawatla who established his seat at the old spiritual center of Palus [7]. Many Tenepelu clans found themselves permanently removed from their land as punishment, usually conscripted into forced labour or dispersed as servants or slaves throughout the rest of the Wayamese Empire. Those who stayed found harsh corvee demands placed on them in order to repair the great devastation caused by the conflict.

Catastrophic casualties ensued thanks to the endless pillaging and massacres both sides committed. Many abducted by the Tenepelu in the Waruna Valley ended up massacred by the Wayamese in the attacks of 1229 and 1230. Between the plagues and the war, the population of the East King's realm decreased by around 40% between 1220 and 1235. Hundreds of thousands died and entire clans were wiped out and people avoided many locations for decades afterwards thanks to the grisly reminders of warfare present around them. Refugees poured south to the territories only loosely under Wayamese rule or even the Kuskuskai Plain.

This devastation marked the beginning of the Tenepelu Migrations, the process from about 1230 to 1400 by which the Tenepelu people gradually shifted their homeland further upstream along the Kuskuskai and its tributaries. Traditional Mat'alayma culture found itself brushed aside by the Mut'eleyma arriving from upstream, yet in other ways found itself reinforced. New villages emerged, local towns swelled in size, and great improvements to the land occurred. However, culture clashes would occur between the more independent-minded Mat'alayma and the hierarchal, elitist Mut'eleyma.

The shifting occured on the other end as well. Pataatlatimna attempted to resettle the devastated provinces with people from elsewhere in Wayam, mostly Aipakhpam and Namals, although the campaign was hindered by the great demographic collapse from warfare and epidemic. This permanently altered the demographics of the area and resulted in a great shifting of ethnic boundaries. The people of this land, who became called Paluspama, came to speak a unique dialect of Aipakhpam and hold customs very distinct from the rest of their culture.

As with the Chiyatsuru Revolt, Wayamese territory shrank after the conflict. Tok'onatin Prefecture, never truly reconquered, effectively found itself downgraded to a status little different than the frontier viceroyalties as Wayamese bureaucracy found little success in recruiting soldiers or extracting tribute. The lands beyond Saqanma Canyon fell abandoned by the Wayamese bureaucracy. The aikwiyatla of the land, a successful lieutenant of Saq'antaikhusus, seized power in the largest city there, Timanipa, and granted himself the title of atatiwishmyuukh. Similar events occurred in the Walawa Valley at Walawalatin, as that prefecture also fell out of Wayamese rule. Qemyekhp Prefecture east of Siminekem fell devastated by Laqapelu and Dena raids in the war and Pataatlatimna reorganised the area under a loyal castellan and granted many exemptions from tribute and levy demands, although the Wayamese bureaucracy in this region lay "practically extinct."

Wayam lay weakened outside of Tenepelu lands as well. Resident-generals in frontier provinces found their orders increasingly ignored, and tribute to Wayam in these regions became mere pittances of acknowledgement to the Pillar King. Some vassals like Khaashihlsik of Hleadni (an atatiwishmyuukh) ruled practically independent of Wayam, their loyalty and tribute existing as a reminder for Wayam to devote effort to their own internal issues. At times this resistance proved violent--in 1232, a coalition of Lelemakh cities led by Sqhweyemehl expelled the Wayamese bureaucrats, yet Pataatlatimna and the West King defeated their army on the field, sacked several villages, and laid siege to Sqhweyemehl itself. They invited in Coastmen allies to cause further destruction to the area. Pressed by these two forces, the rebels surrendered under gracious terms.

Pataatlatimna failed to improve the government's financial issues. Although not a lavish spender like his predecessors, his frequent tribute reductions and generous redistributions to the provinces left the treasuries empty. While the decimation of the bureaucracy in the East King's province improved the issue of entrenched and corrupt bureaucracy in that area, it also destroyed the tax base along with it. The great pillaging of the East King's realm mostly ended up in the hands of local nobles or mercenary bands, and that which did reach the Wayamese treasury served only to further hold off the structural issues of the Wayamese Empire.

Regardless of these flaws, he proved successful general at maintaining Wayam's borders. Pataatlatimna spent much of his time away from Wayam leading raids against the Hillmen on all corners. Reputedly he defeated the Hillmen and Coastmen twenty times and never lost a battle he led himself. The parades of Hillmen and Coastmen chiefs in chains through Wayam proved a welcome distraction to the people and plunder from these campaigns bolstered the treasury. In the greatest of feats, he destroyed a large force of Amorera at the town of Sayaikwash [8] in 1233 and sacked twenty of their villages in a manner that Nch'iyaka claims "did forever destroy the threat of those Amorera Hillmen." After this, Fusanian historical chronicles rarely mention the Amorera, suggesting they remained subjugated to Wayam.

Despite the great destruction during his rule, life in Wayam continued on as it had before. Pataatlatimna managed to repair many dams and canals and conducted a great repair of the network of roads (eshchet) and bridges in much of Wayam. In the Central Province of Wayam and its prefectures, the people experienced renewed prosperity as villages expanded and Hillman raids became non-existant. Mining efforts expanded throughout Wayam, and a brisk trade in tin took place with merchants from the Far Northwest. Access to bronze goods became commonplace compared to decades prior, and practically every nobleman owned sets of bronze tools regularly loaned to those who served them.

This proved the last great accomplishment of Pataatlatimna. In autumn of 1233 he became ill and his condition declined over the next few months until his death shortly before midsummer. The Council of Wayam elected Wyaich'nutl to succeed him, and the crafty South King Khtumekhismi ensured the election of his son-in-law (Pataatlatimna's son) as co-ruler, a decision that rankled some among the nobility, not the least Pataatlatimna's oldest son Twanakha-Spilya. The people of Wayam mourned the death of the Pillar King, although some hoped his death might mean an improvement of things in the Wayamese Empire. Gaiyuchul sums up the traditional view of Pataatlatimna among many historians in his Saga of Katlamat:

"Our people had much to gain should the great Pataatlatimna remained a fierce soldier of Wayam. Fate decreed he ascend as Pillar King, and fate decreed the land suffer for it. Skill in battle means nothing compared to skill in rulership. We must never consider a man fit for power based only on a single talent, no matter how vast his talent. No matter his personal qualities or the single ability he used to his fullest, Pataatlatimna's inadequacy as ruler brought chaos to the land. This chaos brought about the greatest curse witnessed by our land since the beginning of the current world."

---
Author's notes

Another long chapter, this one covering Pataatlatimna, a ruler ill-fitted for the era he rules in yet one who still remains successful--to a degree. The Prophet Lunipyush, a dominant figure of his era, is included as well and his philosophy, healing practices, and other details of his life and rise to notoriety included.

Lunipyush's philosophy and healing methods blend OTL traditions and philosophy of peoples in this region, some innovations that occur TTL, and a sudden and rapid evolution. His brief flash of insight opens a world of new philosophy and medical treatments. Some of it, like hot water and cauterising wounds and other medical equipment, obviously works. Plenty of other elements have little to no effect (smudging and moxibustion is mostly useless for many diseases) or are inadvertently harmful (as burns can lead to infection, amputation of limbs, or death). It's also potentially dangerous given an accident during medical practice can easily result in unintended or more severe burns. Obviously there will be many people who build on Lunipyush's theories over the centuries in Fusanian philosophy and medicine, but he's one of its greatest thinkers.

Next chapter will cover what Gaiyuchul refers to as the "greatest curse", a disease of Fusanian origin both unique and mundane at the same time. We will also soon see how "the greatest curse" affects the Far Northwest and the Ringitsu.

As always, thank you for reading! Incidentally, this entry was completed exactly two years after the start of this TL on the morning of May 10, 2019, so happy two year anniversary for A Horn of Bronze! I promise that in two more years we will be much, much further ahead in TTL than the mid-13th century and can see the full cultural fusion of East Asia and the alt-native cultures of the West Coast like I hint at.

[1] - Tacht is White Bluffs, WA, a ghost town at the Hanford Site in Benton County, WA
[2] - Tokalatoino is at the confluence of the Tucannon and Snake River northwest of Starbuck, WA. The Tokara River (called the Tukenen in Tenepelu/Nez Perce) is the Tucannon River of Washington
[3] - The Waruna River is the Walla Walla River, a Japonicisation of the name for its mouth ("many waters", Waluula)
[4] - The Tsuushi River is the Touchet River
[5] - Patit is Dayton, WA
[6] - Pinawawi is Penawawa, WA
[7] - Palus is at the confluence of the Palus River and Snake River in Franklin County, WA. It is notably near the site of the Marmes Rockshelter, an OTL (and TTL) Paleo-Indian site over 11,000 years old.
[8] - Sayaikwash is Prineville, OR
 
Last edited:
Chapter 63-The Forsaken Land
-LXIII-
"The Forsaken Land"

Wayam, January 1235​

"'Beware of Khwayatshya's curse!' I heard that voice so clear in my dreams!" the shabbily dressed prophet Lunipyush enunciated, his winter robes thick around him. "He spoke unto me 'Beware, beware! For I the sweathouse god shall no more give healing or power unto the people of this world, for I am saddened by their conduct!'" The copper chain and plate around his neck jangled in his excitement and worry. "I have never felt so terrified in my life when I awoke from this dream, so clearly I heard those words from a force so terrible! Oh my great Pillar King, son of the great Pillar King Kawkhikha, I implore you to ensure the righteousness of our people so my dream will not come to pass!"

Wyaich'nutl looked over the Prophet in front of him in his court, his teeth grit with worry. He heard a sudden clang next to him as his co-prince, heir, and good friend, Tsanahuuwaptas son of Pataatlatimna, dropped the glass of salal wine he'd been drinking. Is it the fact he's been drinking all day, or the fact he's terrified of the prophet's words? Possibly both--not even a drunkard could resist a man driven by guardian spirits as strong as those Lunipyush controlled. Even Wyaich'nutl tightened his fancily dyed oxwool robes at the chill of the prophet's voice.

Wyaich'nutl never felt comfortable around this infamous prophet thanks to the feeling of his powerful guardian spirits glaring through him, even if he wished for him to be silent and stop spreading fear and his strange ways. He looked over to his high priest, one of the few in the room who didn't have their faces contorted in fear from his doomsaying and powerful spirit. No healer deserves to be as successful and powerful, his guardian spirit warned. He could damn us all if he pleases [1].

"What should you have me do then, prophet?" Wyaich'nutl asked. "I do not control any person but myself, my people are merely those who follow me. Khwayatshya's curse seems fearsome and I wish for us all to avoid the misery it will bring."

"Live well and show them an example, my great Pillar King," Lunipyush replied. "Shall you live righteously, many will follow your example. Those who do not you may do as a righteous ruler does and punish them with a kind but firm hand." Wyaich'nutl glanced down at the empty goblet of salal wine, suddenly deciding not to request another serving. Yet he knew the truth of the matter. A mere good example could not placate a court such as his full of gossipers and backstabbers and people who only wanted his attention. This means violence, and I cannot take on the world no matter how much I wish it.

Still, there were people he could fight and destroy. Two of the five provinces remain devastated, and with my good friend the South King, we could easily win a conflict against the remaining potential threat of a province should we ever need to. He noticed Khtumekhismi among the courtiers dressed in golden finery fitting for the King of the South, his eyes wide open upon hearing the words.

"Repentance, you say," Wyaich'nutl said. "I will order those around me to begin, yet those far out in the remote prefectures hold little loyalty to myself and my rule."

"Every bureaucrat must be a righteous follower of the Pillar King," Lunipyush said, "yet above even the Pillar King, a righteous follower of those forces still alive in this world. It is but a small wonder chaos grips the land when so many in government follower neither the king of this world nor respect the forces of this world." Wyaich'nutl smiled at the flattery even as his senwitla standing alongside him grimaced in hiding his worry. His words are interesting. The bureaucrats hold far too much power and their greed impoverishes Wayam. Wyaich'nutl smiled at the idea of a few payiktla being sent for a lengthy swim in the Imaru, or perhaps even the Greatest Sea [2] itself so they might be closer to the lands of sunset.

"A fascinating idea, prophet," Wyaich'nutl replied. "It seems very reasonable that with so many wicked men who claim to carry out my orders, our country is punished thusly by the gods and spirits. I will consult with those I trust and take heed of your warnings and words."

"But beware, oh great Pillar King! For wickedness is not so easily uprooted, especially not by wicked men themselves! Think well and think clearly on your methods so you might bring about justice and restore the balance of this country lest Khwayatshya's curse lingers for eternity! For now, I leave you on this!" Wyaich'nutl raised his hand, dismissing the prophet. As the doors closed, a sudden chill filled the room and the nobles inside whispered in worry, looking nervously at Wyaich'nutl.

The co-prince of Wayam and his heir, Tsanahuuwaptas son of Pataatlatimna, glanced over at him.

"M-my lord, what is the 'Curse of Khwayatshya?'" he sputtered in drunken confusion. "The Sweathouse god is mighty indeed, yet how might he curse us?" Tsanahuuwaptas asked.

"I do not know," Wyaich'nutl replied, sullen-faced. I hope I never know.

---​

Three deadly epidemics struck Fusania during the 13th century and with it brought sickness and mortality on a scale never seen before. The first epidemic, chickenpox and mumps arriving no more than a few years apart in the early 1220s, carried off between 7% to 10% of the population, a sum amounting to hundreds of thousands of people. The third, an epidemic of whooping cough in the early 1240s, killed another 2% of the population, almost entirely young children. The scale of infections and deaths from diseases commonly found in childhood in the Old World marked the grim announcement of their arrival in a land which never before suffered such ailments, a true virgin soil epidemic.

The second great epidemic of this era emerged a novel variety of influenza that uniquely originated in Fusania. Modern historians nickname the disease "seal flu" given this strain of influenza's origins as a strain of the influenza A virus that primarily affected seals and sea lions although such origins remained unknown until the arrival of modern genetics. A successful and novel flu, all subsequent influenza A epidemics descend in part from the original "seal flu" thanks to its rampage through the Old World in the early 16th century in the first documented influenza pandemic in history. Yet it's most deadly epidemic remains perhaps it's first appearance in 1235.

As gregarious social animals, seals and other pinnipeds play host to many infections and diseases, a few of which can be transmitted to other animals such as the influenza B virus which is found only in humans and seals. Had humans herded seals as cattle or reindeer, no doubt many more human diseases might have emerged from them [3]. Seal hunters in Fusania and elsewhere knew of this risk as well, as improper hygiene while hunting and butchering animals resulted in disease. It is likely tuberculosis, a disease carried by seals spread to the New World in this fashion.

In Fusania, seal-hunting served as an important economic activity along the coast since prehistoric times and remained essential to coastal communities and those along the Lower Imaru even after the agricultural revolution. They highly valued the oil, blubber, fur, and meat of the seal as well as the internal organs such as the bladder which served as a common storage container and further believed hunting the seals helped draw more salmon to their community. Nobles and rulers jealously guarded seal harvesting sites under their control, in particular those where the largest species like the elephant seal which weighed several tons or the nearly as large northern sea lion at one ton which notably congregated in the Imaru River. Smaller seals like the harbor seal were the most common targets, especially as they too often swam far upstream in the Imaru River. All of this ensured much human-seal contact in the region.

Many of these seal-borne illnesses remained limited to only the hunter or close contacts, as zoonotic diseases find it hard to reproduce and spread in an unfamiliar host. Similar cases occurred with avian influenza in the New World, caused by contact with domesticated poultry or wild birds. Many of these diseases caused severe illness or death to their rare human hosts, another factor limiting spread. Early cases of seal influenza no doubt fell into this category of difficult-to-transmit zoonotic viruses, a poor candidate for an epidemic disease.

Yet viruses mutate over time, in particular the fast-mutating influenza A strain which causes seasonal flu and practically all influenza pandemics. Influenza viruses "borrow" from other influenza viruses, recombining their genes to make potentially dangerous new combinations. This is the root cause of an influenza pandemic--the seasonal flu borrows novel genes from influenza viruses that infect species like birds or pigs, and that new strain infects humans in a way that bypasses immune system responses. While this has occurred many times in history and would occur many times since, only in the 1230s did an influenza pandemic borrow genes from seals.

Seal flu likely borrowed both human and avian genes. The likely scenario involves a seal hunter stopping by a market on his way home which would have contained live ducks or geese awaiting slaughter. The seal flu he was infected with mingled with the flu viruses of the birds at the market. The seal hunter--or another person around him--fell sick with a severe flu. Perhaps he lived, perhaps he died--either way, those around him fell ill in rapid succession, and from there, a great epidemic broke out.

The epidemic likely first emerged in the Lower Imaru, the area of greatest population density in Fusania. The area produced great quantities of farmed ducks and geese which mingled with wild birds in the wetlands and omodaka paddies in the area. The well-developed transportation networks and close vicinity of villages allowed even a few cases to magnify exponentially into a great epidemic. Writing 250 years later, Namal historian Gaiyuchul confirms the epidemic's origin in the Lower Imaru, claiming the settlements of Coastmen in the area brought on a spiritual curse.

The initial seal flu epidemic, as later instances, likely acted similarly to other severe influenza strains. It caused fever, cough, fatigue, and soreness over the body that often led to pneumonia and occasionally gastrointestinal illness or more rare secondary conditions. A unique propensity of seal flu included infection of the eye (conjunctivitis) in many cases Around 2/3 of people displayed severe symptoms and the majority of people recovered in around 5 days, although severe infections lingered for a few weeks. Fluid filled the lungs and suffocated the victims, the main cause of death. A great danger lay in the risk of an immune system overreaction, called a cytokine storm which caused severe inflammation of the lungs.

Seal flu killed people of all ages, although it remained most deadly in young children and the elderly. Influenza infection causes miscarriage and a high risk of infant mortality that further depressed the birth rates. Like many deadly influenza strains, adults with otherwise healthy immune systems experienced disproportionate amounts of deaths compared to seasonal outbreaks of the flu. In the epidemic of 1235, seal flu likely killed anywhere between 15-20% of those infected. The weaker immune systems found in historic Amerindian populations thanks to lack of genetic diversity and continual wartime devastation resulted in these high death rates.

Indigenous Fusanian medicine held one great weakness in confronting epidemic illness like this--their frequent use of sweathouse rituals to cure disease. The common sweathouse ritual involved a lengthy period of time in the sweathouse followed by a plunge into a cold creek or river. With minor illnesses this caused little harm and for those with cutaneous conditions and those infested with ticks, lice, or other external parasites it brought relief. Yet for severe fevers the sweathouse rituals failed with drastic consequences. Cramped conditions inside sweathouses allowed easy spread of pathogens. Worse still, the excess heating mixed with sudden cold water contributed to the development of shock and especially pnuemonia which greatly increased mortality rates [4].

Chickenpox and mumps often cause a high fever which combined with amplified the death rates in both Fusania and elsewhere in North America during the initial epidemics. Influenza with its even more frequent symptoms of high fever and pneumonia similarly caused this deadly effect, yet even worse thanks to the even higher mortality rates. The great death toll seems likely to have been in large part thanks to the improper treatment of the disease using traditional cultural methods.

In Fusania, the emergence of the seal flu epidemic and its corresponding high death rates added fuel to the religious revival in society and caused the belief that the Sweathouse god (known under names like Khwayatshya among the Aipakhpam), responsible for the healing power of the sweathouse (among other functions), laid a curse on humanity for wickedness. The prophet Lunipyush allegedly devised this message, yet it found favour in many places beyond the borders of the Wayamese Empire suggesting the movement held great popularity. To remove this curse, one must treat the sweathouse with greater respect and abstain from many actions before, during, and after its use. Outside of that, society as a whole must live justly and righteously, and that included challenging one's neighbours over wicked practices.

Lunipyush died in 1238 as a victim of the epidemic. Allegedly, he cured himself of the disease but decided to leave his body so he might drive the plague away for good. Greatly mourned, his movement fell apart into competing sects after his death that over time blended into the background of the traditional religion of the Imaru Basin. Many peoples venerated him as a god of medicine and healing, except for ironically the Aipakhpam who continued to hold him simply as a great man.

Unlike chickenpox or mumps which evolved into diseases of childhood and became endemic, influenza continued to cause epidemics thanks to the rapid mutation of the virus and constant source of new genes from livestock. The initial epidemic lasted three years, fading in the summer and returning with fury in the cooler seasons. Seasonal outbreaks of less lethal variants still killed many people (albeit at much lower rates) for years to come. Seal flu often, usually blended with strains of avian flu, produced severe epidemics nearly as terrible as the initial outbreak on a nearly generational basis for centuries to come. Only the cultural shifts that evolved to handle outbreaks, improvements in treatment, and the grim force of natural selection favouring those with better immune systems against influenza produced a measure of resistance against the disease.

How many died in the great Wayamese influenza epidemic of 1235 - 1238 remains unknown. Traditional history suggests around 320,000 people perished, and 8,000 people died in and around the city of Wayam. The death rates soared an order of magnitude higher than in the past and funeral rites could no longer be conducted. People from all strata of society died, from the royal household of the Pillar King to the slaves required for conducting maintenance and repairs of dams to the bureaucrats who procured those slaves.

The Pillar King Wyaich'nutl found it impossible to respond to this disaster. Faced with greatly declining revenues, he moved to slash government spending. His wrath fell on the bureaucracy, particularly the Office of the Senwitla, whom he considered greedy and inept. Reportedly Wyaich'nutl drowned his senwitla and ordered the man he appointed as successor to remove from office 1 in every 5 men who worked for him. Other positions found great cuts as well, such as the priesthood, where Wyaich'nutl ordered them to forgo their salary every other month so they "might learn proper piety". For his military, Wyaich'nutl retired many older soldiers and reduced the size of the Pillar King's pananikinsh to only 800 men.

Wyaich'nutl took Lunipyush's admonishment to heart. After surviving the seal flu and nearly dying, he wore nothing but bark cloth the remainder of his days and only drank alcohol at ceremonies and ordered all around him to do the same. He spent much of his time in prayer, fervish dancing to please his spirit, or managing his realm, allegedly stopping only when he collapsed from exhaustion. For several years he even changed his name to Wyaich'nit ("Knows Defeat"), only changing it back to Wyaich'nutl ("Knows Not Defeat") when informed by his courtiers that for his piety he never knew spiritual defeat.

Indeed, Wyaich'nutl's piety manifested itself as a feverish sanctimony where he took his spiritual role far too seriously. Those who he found lacking in respect for the spirits he punished severely, distributing their wealth as alms. Historian Nch'iyaka of Wapaikht quotes the following story of a noble who displeased Wyaich'nutl:

"And so the great Pillar King spoke unto the master [Prefect/Pawititamatla] of Tlawiwala Prefecture 'Oh foolish one, I find your respect for the spiritual world is lacking! I strip thee of office and condemn thee to a lifetime of reflecting on thy crimes!' And the Prefect of Tlawiwala replied unto the Pillar King, 'I did commit no crime under the just statutes of the Pillar Kings who came before thee! I am truly innocent in the eyes of the Lawgiver Tamanwitla [4]!

The great Pillar King in his piety replied unto the Prefect of Tlawiwala 'Such words I hear not for they are impious lies. You imbibe the strong liquor and you condemn not the wicked among you! Thereafter the Pillar King appointed a new Prefect of Tlawiwala who did ensure his predecessor lost his lands and rights and freedoms. Such was the piety the great Pillar King Wyaich'nutl found in the great curse in the land. Yet none whispered the truth unto the Pillar King that such piety did serve only itself and not the spirits.

Thereafter the master [Prefect/Pawititamatla] of Tlawiwala Prefecture did speak 'So I shall soon suffer and own nothing. Will not my master the King of the West protect me?' Yet he did find no protection from the King of the West Qwiqw'us[...]"

Predictably, those around Wyaich'nutl tended to avoid him or even outright use his pious wrath as a means of eliminating rivals. Much of the governmental roles fell under the purview of the South King Khtumekhismi, who remained the Pillar King's close friend and associate. Khtumekhismi managed the government much of the time for Wyaich'nutl, controlling his excesses and increasing his own power and influence. He received many men punished with forced labour and a great share of the tribute, acts that rankled other Directional Kings.

The issue of Wyaich'nutl's heir Tsanahuuwaptas came to the attention of society at this time. A son of Pataatlatimna, Tsanahuuwaptas gained much influence earlier in his life thanks to his resemblence to the legendary Tsanahuutimna (where he spiritually acquired a similar name) and successful deeds in battle against the Chiyatsuru and the Hillmen. Yet all the praise went to his head and he became increasingly notorious for luxury and decadence during his father's rule. Traditionally, historians claimed Lunipyush's warnings referred most specifically to Tsanahuuwaptas and his friends who ended up at high positions and used them for corrupt deeds.

Khtumekhismi persuaded the Wayamese to accept Tsanahuuwaptas as a legitimate co-prince and not simply an unfit fool nominated by Wyaich'nutl as he was increasingly believed to be. At the same time, Khtumekhismi hid Tsanahuuwaptas's most overt decadence from Wayamese society through employing a troupe of body doubles, one of whom lived the life Wyaich'nutl expected of his heir and the others whom wound up blamed for Tsanahuuwaptas's debauched lifestyle and punished as a result (for both the crime of impersonation as well as offenses against morality). Historian Gaiyuchul describes Wyaich'nutl's piety and the power behind the throne in harsh terms:

Wyaich'nutl's reputation of a cruel, penny-pinching man benefitted much from his reforms as well. He increased the punishment of many crimes with greater confiscations of property and longer periods of forced labour. In particular, he singled out corrupt officials for punishment and relished the money and labour he received out of their sentencing. However, the decimation of the bureaucracy and Wyaich'nutl's greed allowed officials to settle their rivalries with each other via false accusations which often went uninvestigated and unpunished.

Those administrators who found themselves out of a job typically found new employment working for powerful private landowners and nobles, often where they once served the government. This kept much of the Wayamese administration intact yet turned toward a new purpose, that of working for the wealth, prestige, and success of the wealthy. Soldiers often turned to working as a private police force for these landowners, clashing with their former comrades who turned to banditry. The Wayamese government thus faced a great decentralisation where power increasingly lay in the hands of landowners.

As the epidemics died down, Wyaich'nutl faced an even graver crisis. Any attempts to reassert authority over the decentralising empire would be challenging and provoke a backlash with which Wayam would face a struggle. Deaths in the epidemic resulted in much inheritance of land rights by certain noble clans. Even during the epidemic, sporadic peasant revolts and banditry prevailed in the land thanks to the vibrant religious landscape full of prophets. As the epidemic subsided, the land seemed a tinderbox of zealotry and disputes between nobles which required resolution, a resolution that once again would bathe Wayam in blood.

The epidemics outside of Wayam

Elsewhere in Fusania, the epidemic brought just as much disaster. It spread north along the trade routes and infected countless Dena villages and Coastmen ports. For instance, of the 75,000 people on the island of Qhwai, nearly 15,000 of them perished. Only the most isolated islands and most remote communities found themselves spared thanks to the great interconnection of trade routes. The decimation of the noble houses in the Far Northwest allowed for much consolidation in land rights as well as much petty squabbling that characterised the next century of politics. However, the epidemic freed up much land and property as well, reducing the incentive for raids of neighbours.

In South Fusania, epidemics tore through the drought-stricken Central Valley and adjacent areas around 1240. Hundreds of thousands of people died from this epidemic and the famine it exacerbated. The elite of the Kuksuist lodges (and religious elite in general) perished in such numbers that this great disaster led to religious revival and new prophets. The great Kuksuist lodge of Pasnomsono lost many members in the epidemic. The Kuksuist lodge of Koru at the base of the sacred mountain Onolaitol became the undisputed center of Kuksuism spiritually and politically as a result. Socially, drought, famine, and epidemic resulted in the continued strength of the Kuksuist lodges while proto-states led by nobles effectively crumbled.

The most lethal strains of influenza predominated outside of the Imaru Basin and Furuge in the 1240s. Within the Imaru-Furuge area, people carried more immunity to the circulating strains which rarely killed anyone but the elderly or infants. Despite this, it is likely that for generations indigenous Fusanians and Amerindians as a whole died from seasonal influenza at rates higher than other populations thanks to the genetics of their immune systems, although this hypothesis remains contentious.

Unlike mumps, chickenpox, or whooping cough, influenza faced more challenges in its spread outside Fusania. The disease does not have a long incubation time and produces obvious symptoms within days. Most individuals only spread the virus for around a week, and the majority of that times they displayed symptoms. It typically killed between 7 to 14 days after infection. Further, the virus does not remain intact on surfaces for long. For this reason, the Norse never brought influenza to North America and when a novel strain emerged within North America, it spread slowly and regionally.

The initial epidemic in Fusania failed to spread far beyond that region. It evolved to less lethal strains of influenza that while still potentially dangerous to the young and elderly failed to cause nearly the damage to healthy adults. As a result, disruption from seal flu among the Puebloans, Misebians, or other cultures in the mid-13th century remains indistinguishable from the mortality rates of other epidemic illnesses like chickenpox. A similar story occurs in Mesoamerica, the Andes, and other regions to the south. While death rates remained elevated above background levels, the populations in these regions grew increasingly used to dealing with this misery in the cooler times of the year. Only subsequent epidemics of severe influenza in the Americas brought to the rest of the Americas the great misery and societal challenges Fusania faced in the late 1230s and 1240s.

---
Author's notes

As I alluded to, the "greatest curse" is familiar yet mundane. To Fusanians and indigenous Americans in general, it is among the most feared disease known to their cultures thanks to how easily transmissable it is, how quick it kills, and the high death rates (over 5%) caused by severe strains. It returns every year almost without fail and can infect the same people year after year, a trait not shared with chickenpox, mumps, and whooping cough and the near-lifelong immunity a single infection grants. To people of the Old World (or to us in the modern age), influenza is far more mundane and is merely another epidemic disease.

Seals do indeed carry influenza (both influenza A and B) and it is known that influenza viruses can transmit between species. Seals are believed to have transmitted at least one strain of tuberculosis to seal hunters in the past in the pre-Columbian Andes. So it is possible that an association of humans, seals, and waterfowl in one place (a market, a farm, or a wetland, all three of which are found in TTL's Lower Imaru Basin) could result in a unique and novel strain of influenza blending genes from the latter two. If it became easily transmissable between humans, then it would cause an epidemic. Seal influenza would not be particularly special aside from the novel source, although it would kill as many as a serious swine flu or bird flu pandemic which be akin to the Spanish flu. Also note that epizootics of seal influenza in seals have occurred, and these appear to share genes with both human and avian flu, so the risk is certainly there.

The fact no indigenous influenza epidemics emerged from the Old World seems a stroke of luck to me, especially given the effects it would have on society and the fact that it almost certainly would cause a pandemic in the Old World. This will not be the case ITTL, and the novel seal influenza genes within this influenza strain will ensure it will cause some damage. It has certainly terrified the Pillar King Wyaich'nutl, who is a little eager to show how he has repented from his past pride that destroyed armies.

Along with shimui (a variant of yaws), this is the only "new" disease for TTL. The reason being is that a few Old World domesticates produced nearly all the notorious epidemic illnesses. Considering reindeer have been domesticated for barely a millennium at this point (mid-13th century) and other domesticates only a few centuries, there's simply not the depth of time for zoonotic illnesses in those animals to leap the species barrier. It's also debateable as to whether any pathogens even could--it appears several potential candidate diseases that affect wild populations OTL were brought to the Americas alongside domesticated European sheep, goats, and cattle.

I alluded to the epidemic in South Fusania, a region I've quite neglected but will be returning to...eventually. My next update will cover more of the Far Northwest and in particular the Ringitsu. I had left off at Chapter 58 since I figured I needed to cover the great seal flu epidemic before I continued forward as it produces its own set of cultural changes in the region. I will probably post a map of that region at some point as well.

[1] - Like their OTL equivalents among others, many people who live along the Imaru River believe that as the most successful healers take away disease, they can give disease as well. As a result, they're subject to great suspicion. Such a belief caused the notorious Whitman massacre IOTL.
[2] - The Pacific Ocean, a literal translation of Sahaptin/Aipakhpam atachiish ("greatest water")
[3] - The list is quite lengthy. For instance, seal handlers in aquariums need to be wary of "sealpox", a skin disease transmitted by close contact with seals
[4] - This is tragically as OTL, where sweathouse rituals proved ineffective for many epidemic diseases. In particular, the practice of immersion in cold water was noted as making illness worth and often causing death
[5] - A deity TTL occasionally identified with the Transformer Coyote (Spilyai) or the sun god Anyai--his name can mean either "Lawgiver" or "Creator". OTL Sahaptins sometimes identified him as Coyote/Spilyai but later came to identify him as the Christian God.
 
Last edited:
Let's see-- so far, two of Wayam's five main divisions are completely trashed, the rest are... let's say half as bad. This doesn't so much seem like an irrecoverable disaster for the Aipakhpam as a people-- as you've shown, they're expanding into lands they've forced their neighbors of many centuries to move away from. The only people on the Imaru who could vie with them in numbers, the Namals, are taking a walloping from the diseases-- a fate like that of the Mon, subsumed by the upriver Burmese, isn't beyond the pale for them. Even if that's not on the menu, the Aipakhpam have expanded enough that I'd say their stretch of the Imaru could become a heartland of empire again, or maybe a more compact and homogenous state.

The West King is in a really awkward spot, the South King has taken initiative in court matters-- and at home, he's bedeviled by the Coastmen and angry locals upset at having to live with them. Although fighting alongside barbarians has a bad reputation now, I don't see any way out for his clan aside from continuing the Coastman settlement policy in return for their work (could they set up a business of raiding South Fusania for slaves? What big crops are there in the Whulge-- or maybe they could be used as rowers on ships to keep the peace on the waters and in the river delta, or as replacement for dead peasants upriver?) and hope the armies directly accountable to him will allow him overall superiority in the area during whatever follows. I think the West King somehow taking a greater interest in coastal and Californian affairs would be the most natural path for his advancement and a way to bring the South into the general flow of events.
 
Seems like Wayam is stuck in the throes of a vicious cycle. Now is the time of war, especially given the power the Directional Kings already had before the other causes of declining central authority. Wyaich'nutl's reaction to all this seems almost Shakespearean, and it seems the realm is headed for a South-dominated court -- and Diadochi-esque warfare to alter that state of affairs.
 
I like the religious changes going on. I would love to see this culture encounter Shinto Buddhism in the the future they seem they could blend nicely.
 
Amazing timeline!
Wayam is seemingly not only able to effectively breed new strains of influenca, but also new strains of radical religious cults... It will be interesting how this new found zealoutry will develop.

But there is another thing I'm really interested in: How does the the wayamese bureaucracy work? I think minature totem-poles were mentioned in some of the prior entries. Are they used for record keeping or are other systems used to manage the harvest or whatever?
You also described some kind of hierarchy of administrators. How does the Pillar King, or the directional kings, ensure that their orders are carried out by the right person? Is it basically a complex system of personal/familial loyalities of noble administrators?

I'm always fascinated how ancient (or pre-literate) empires can be efficiently administrated.
 
Amazing timeline!
Wayam is seemingly not only able to effectively breed new strains of influenca, but also new strains of radical religious cults... It will be interesting how this new found zealoutry will develop.

But there is another thing I'm really interested in: How does the the wayamese bureaucracy work? I think minature totem-poles were mentioned in some of the prior entries. Are they used for record keeping or are other systems used to manage the harvest or whatever?
You also described some kind of hierarchy of administrators. How does the Pillar King, or the directional kings, ensure that their orders are carried out by the right person? Is it basically a complex system of personal/familial loyalities of noble administrators?

I'm always fascinated how ancient (or pre-literate) empires can be efficiently administrated.
Wayam lacks a script. That's disappointing a totem pole inspired script would be very interesting.
 
Let's see-- so far, two of Wayam's five main divisions are completely trashed, the rest are... let's say half as bad. This doesn't so much seem like an irrecoverable disaster for the Aipakhpam as a people-- as you've shown, they're expanding into lands they've forced their neighbors of many centuries to move away from. The only people on the Imaru who could vie with them in numbers, the Namals, are taking a walloping from the diseases-- a fate like that of the Mon, subsumed by the upriver Burmese, isn't beyond the pale for them. Even if that's not on the menu, the Aipakhpam have expanded enough that I'd say their stretch of the Imaru could become a heartland of empire again, or maybe a more compact and homogenous state.
The comparison with the Mon is an interesting one, I have to say, although perhaps more apt for the Amims who have a generally subordinate role to the Namals (since their nobility is mostly Namal descended and they're generally peasants).
The West King is in a really awkward spot, the South King has taken initiative in court matters-- and at home, he's bedeviled by the Coastmen and angry locals upset at having to live with them. Although fighting alongside barbarians has a bad reputation now, I don't see any way out for his clan aside from continuing the Coastman settlement policy in return for their work (could they set up a business of raiding South Fusania for slaves?
Problem with raiding South Fusania from that far north is that there's a bunch of other Coastmen along the rugged coast to the south who have that exact same idea and would be cautious about outsiders on their turf. Most slave raids on South Fusania are done by the Maguraku and Hill Tanne, who sell their slaves up the trade routes. The West King's problem is that his realm is so huge, difficult to manage, and has two major poles (the Lower Imaru/Irame Valley in the south and the Whulge coast in the north). The Lower Imaru is more developed and integrated into Wayam, but the West King himself is ethnically Whulchomish and based in the Whulge. There's also numerous factions among the nobles there, which does include those who seek a stronger fleet and more oceanic trade (i.e. Peltsap's successors at Nekhw'qiyt [Port Gamble WA] or the sea fortress of Ts'akhels [Westport WA]).
What big crops are there in the Whulge-- or maybe they could be used as rowers on ships to keep the peace on the waters and in the river delta, or as replacement for dead peasants upriver?) and hope the armies directly accountable to him will allow him overall superiority in the area during whatever follows. I think the West King somehow taking a greater interest in coastal and Californian affairs would be the most natural path for his advancement and a way to bring the South into the general flow of events.
The Whulge is very agriculturally productive in its river valleys, and it mostly grows omodaka, camas, and other wetland crops. The reason it doesn't have a large population is because of the long history of raiding there. It's also not as well economically integrated due to political affairs where every noble and his household essentially formed their own state. As a side note, the Imaru River does not have a delta because of geography, it instead has a notorious sandbar which OTL was the center of the "Graveyard of the Pacific".

No one in Fusania uses galley slaves for warfare (or in this case anti-piracy). It's considered too risky keeping slaves so close to weapons or a means of escape and god forbid they're related to the enemy and try to defect. It's better to put the slaves to tasks commoners would be doing while they're away for war. That said, anyone involved in slavery would be in luck during a time where so many have died.

A very interesting post overall!
Seems like Wayam is stuck in the throes of a vicious cycle. Now is the time of war, especially given the power the Directional Kings already had before the other causes of declining central authority. Wyaich'nutl's reaction to all this seems almost Shakespearean, and it seems the realm is headed for a South-dominated court -- and Diadochi-esque warfare to alter that state of affairs.
As I will explain more later (after a few more "positive" updates), the vicious cycle arguably began when the state relied on looting lands to pay the bureaucracy and army. Yet that model runs into challenges when you're no longer actively expanding.
But there is another thing I'm really interested in: How does the the wayamese bureaucracy work? I think minature totem-poles were mentioned in some of the prior entries. Are they used for record keeping or are other systems used to manage the harvest or whatever?
This was discussed more in Chapter 20 but I will reproduce it here. A "totem stick" is a plank of wood carved with similar symbols to totem poles that can be read and understood assuming the reader knows the context (which is why a messenger is there to explain. It's the main method of sending messages. A larger totem pole might be raised at a location (for instance, a prefectural capital) to mark a particularly important edict, event, or commemoration. The downsides of course is the time it takes to carve one of these sticks, the limited amount of space, and the knowledge involved with memorising and understanding the conventions to make it readable, making the totem carvers a class of scribes with a notorious reputation (i.e. their monopoly on the art). Reading it is somewhat easier, but literacy is extremely low.

The main form of accounting and record keeping comes from knotted string records which function similar to quipu although aren't as complex. Once again, it requires context to read, but the knots encode a base-20 system of numbers (even the blind can read it!). Bits of shells, stones, or other durable goods are woven in that provide further context like a date, and the fabric or colour of the fabric can change for further clarification. Because these are exclusively woven by women, it gives them a certain amount of power over economies that range from a household to Wayam itself although men (most educated men can understand them) still hold positions like "treasurer".

Thinking of a random example, if the Pillar King demands 1,000 tons (obviously not the unit they use) of camas and 100 jars of acorns from a prefecture during a given year, he'd send a messenger from the bureaucracy carrying a string record to the prefect and something marked with an official seal. If the prefect feels his prefecture cannot produce that much this year (based on his own string records determining how much he produced last year), he would likely send a totem stick back explaining his problem, and likely receive one in return bearing the answer.

There is also a strong tradition of oral law and memorisation of decrees. Most of Wayamese history for instance ends up as oral records spun into literature.
You also described some kind of hierarchy of administrators. How does the Pillar King, or the directional kings, ensure that their orders are carried out by the right person? Is it basically a complex system of personal/familial loyalities of noble administrators?

I'm always fascinated how ancient (or pre-literate) empires can be efficiently administrated.
There is a hierarchy of administrators who are nominally loyal to the Pillar King and his chief lieutenants the Directional Kings. The senwitla ("speaker") is the head of the most important components of the administration which effectively makes him akin to a chancellor or grand vizier. Most messages or orders get passed through this office. Higher ranks are usually close relatives of ruling princes, while the rulers of a prefecture would themselves be a ruling prince. At the lower ranks, this office includes people who act as go-betweens for the Directional King, Pillar King, or Prefect and these people tend to be more personally loyal to those they serve and settle in or around the household of those who owe tribute (a landowner or lesser prince). The senwitla's office is a fine way to meet people and establish familial links so a lot of nobles spend time working in it (although commoners work at the lower levels). However, the central government doesn't want people to get too friendly (and potentially run corrupt schemes or undermine the government's authority), so these lesser bureaucrats are shifted around the five provinces of Wayam every five years.

I've thought about this "pre-literate administration" quite a bit, but ultimately decided on what I did for the "writing". Totem poles are OTL (although not south of Vancouver Island until the artform was introduced in the late 19th century IIRC), and the set of symbols associated with totem poles was also very widespread and have very consistent reading (although like all proto-writing it needs context). The string records are also OTL (here they're made a little more complex and much expanded from their OTL role), although it didn't have much overlap with totem poles. I've had both traits spread and become universal over the entire region.

The Wayamese Empire at its height is much smaller than another major preliterate empire, the Inca Empire (also pre-literate) and is far more decentralised (even from the start).
Just went though this whole timeline--and it's comparable to Lands of Red and Gold by @Jared, so it's very good!!!

Waiting for more, @Arkenfolm...
Thank you!
 
I'll post something by Thursday. It'll be the map of the Far Northwest if that's done by then, otherwise it will be another entry regarding the Far Northwest and the rugged and resilient Ringitsu cultures that form around the Sea of Ringitania [Bering Sea] and the map should be by
I like the religious changes going on. I would love to see this culture encounter Shinto Buddhism in the the future they seem they could blend nicely.
Sorry, I didn't see this one. Yes, there are religious changes, as often happens in times of great duress. I think most cultures in general had/have prophets like that IOTL, including of course in this area. It's important not to think of them as founders of organised religions or anything (with one semi-exception I'll get to eventually, even though that might not be what you think) but people affecting how the traditional religion and beliefs is practiced.

And yes, Shinto fits in very well with traditional religion of this area. There's a similar animistic focus, strong awareness of the spirits of certain locations, belief in spirit possession. Plenty of differences too of course, since the concept of guardian spirits and their power is vastly different. While the Japanese elite would look down on this religion, a priest at a Shinto shrine in a rural area would have a lot of interesting conversations with a Fusanian shaman. Buddhism would apply to Fusanian religion where mythical figures like Coyote (and other Transformer gods) or Kuksu or semi-mythical prophets like the Sibling Prophets or even more recent prophets like Lunipyush are considered bodhisattva.
How many people lived in Fusania before the plagues ?
Sometimes I do revise my demographic estimates because I nitpick my work endlessly, but my current estimate for the late 1210s (before the turmoil broke out) is that Fusania (which is basically the land west of the Continental Divide south to the Utah-Idaho border, including most of Nevada aside from the eastern parts of the state, and then south to the Colorado River and northern Baja California) has about 8 million people (3 million South Fusania i.e. California/Nevada, 5 million North Fusania). Wayam and its Pillar King rules about 2.25 million people in that time, almost 30% of the population (while having maybe 15% of the land).

Some areas have a lot more room to grow (especially South Fusania, where agriculture is newer), others (i.e. the Far Northwest aka Alaska/Yukon, where agriculture and domestication are the most established) are basically at their maximum limits in population with little to no capacity left to grow. For instance, before the plagues there were are about 700,000 people in OTL Alaska (about half speak a Dena language, about 20% are Inuit/a related ethnic group i.e. Yupiks/Aleuts, and the rest are Ringitsu) thanks to resourceful cultures exploiting pastoralism and gardening (and eventually outright agriculture in places that support it) spreading into every corner of the OTL state's area nearly a millennium ago and a very beneficial climate thanks to the Medieval Warm Period. A few places like Kechaniya even import food from further south (for feeding slaves/livestock).
 
Please write that in one of your updates.
If it can be arranged. There's a lot of different types of Fusanian shamans educated in different traditions and the sorts of Japanese who even in the 13th century are venturing into Hokkaido (let alone those who will visit OTL Kamchatka like a few Edo Period Japanese did OTL) aren't necessarily the sorts who take along random Shinto priests.

Let's just say the next 10-20 updates are building up to the point where anyone can see where the collision between the "Old World" and "New World" will inevitably happen.
 
Chapter 64-Sailors of Dusk
-LXIV-
"Sailors of Dusk"

Amidst the stormiest sea of the northern hemisphere lay many islands and peninsulas battered by fierce winds and rain. These islands lay between the Old World, where humanity evolved, and the New World, a new home for the great diversity of the human race. The guts of the Earth itself birthed many of these islands such as the vast Manjima chain that stretched nearly all the way to the Old World while other islands lay as mere remnants of land reclaimed by the sea. In this once dry land, mankind walked across the waters of the Strait of Ringitania to their new home yet thousands of years later this land existed as a fringe of humanity, home to only the hardiest of peoples or bearing witness to little life at all but seabirds, seals, and walruses.

Tens of thousands of years later, the Ringitsu people returned to this ancestral migration route as traders, prospecters, and fishermen. They sought out wealth in this harsh land and a place to belong in an uncertain world. These great voyagers who prowled the seas explored this land for what they desired and interacted with its natives. They fought them, they traded with them, they ruled over them, and in time, they married them. The Ringitsu of this harsh land so different from the forested lands they called home prospered as a result of this great cultural fusion.

Far Ringitania

The Ringitsu called the land beyond the Anasugi Mountains [1] "Hlinkitaanilei", meaning "distant Ringitania". It was a truly rugged land of forests, tundra, marshes, swift rivers, endless lakes, and countless islands scattered amidst churning seas. They shared the coasts of this land with its existing inhabitants who became known as the Hanashaku people as well as those inland Dena along the great Hentsuren River. The geographical diversity of Far Ringitania and concentrations of Ringitsu settlement neatly divided the land into three segments--Anasugi (on the Anasugi Peninsula and northwest of it around Takugei Bay), Yaigani (on the Yaigani Peninsula), and the islands of the Sea of Ringitania (collectively called Daakaani by the Ringitsu).

Ringitsu penetration into Far Ringitania occurs as early as 1000 with merchants, sailors, and hunters crossing the mountains of the Anasugi Peninsula. They chased after the walrus and its highly valued ivory, an economic activity that drove Ringitsu exploration, trade, and settlement. Secondarily, the Ringitsu came after suitable sites for supplying whaling ships, finding rare species of whales like bowheads and the strange white beluga whale far more common in this region.

They found a land harsher than any they encountered. Fierce storms battered the coast and away from the peninsula, winters colder than any they knew. This land held much different seasons than the Ringitsu knew and animals migrated differently. Most disturbingly, few trees grew compared to the lush forests of the Kechaniyan mountains or especially their homeland. The familiar yellow cedar and Wakashan spruce foliage vanished, replaced by scraggly birches and spruces at best and stunted willows and alders at worse barely capable of supporting the Ringitsu lifestyle be it in their hunting or fishing gear, their ships, or even their houses.

For this reason, the Ringitsu relied on the local people for help. They used local people for hunting walrus and gathering resources for their trading posts, paying them in metal tools, food, and other goods. The locals built the Ringitsu storehouses and actual houses and often sold them skin boats when they were in need. As their stays extended and they permanently settled, Ringitsu traders married local women and often married their daughters to prominent local chiefs--this brought new knowledge of local conditions into the Ringitsu houses who settled in this region.

Historians conventionally lump these associates of the Ringitsu together into the category of "Kh'adassak" (a Ringitsu ethnic slur that became the antiquidated Japanese term "Hanashaku") or "Thulean peoples" (a term based on their shared language family). Yet these peoples--the Unangakh, the Inupiaq, and Yupik--could not be more different. Sharing only a common language, each of the three groups divided into numerous tribes which focused on exploiting the resources of their homelands.

Derogatory descriptions of their poverty by Ringitsu and Yahanen historians as well as early Japanese explorers impacted the interpretation of pre-Ringitsu Thuleans for centuries. Archaeology shows that reindeer herding spread to this area in the 6th century and around the same time, the ancestors of the Inupiaq domesticated the muskox on the Yaigani peninsula. These events led to a cultural revolution and shift to a pastoralist lifestyle which increased the population thanks to the availability of tools.

However, traditional boat-building, fishing, and whaling remained important activities among the Thulean peoples, in particular the Unangakh who did not shift to pastoralism until the late 8th century. under pressure from both the unusually cold climate and neighbouring Dena and Yupiks they spread out from the Anasugi Peninsula across the Manjimas, displacing non-pastoralist "Paleo-Unangakh" in all but the westernmost Hatan Islands [2]. Ringitsu stories note the lack of reindeer or other livestock owned by the people of the Hatan Islands as well as their distinct language from nearby islands, suggesting why the ancestors of the Unangakh proved so successful in the Manjimas.

Neither group practiced the intensive horticulture of the interior Dena nor the true agriculture of the Ringitsu, limiting their population and size of their herds. Their smaller breeds of reindeer and the absolute lack of towey goats, Vinland geese, or other domesticates no doubt contributed to outsiders' perception of poverty among these people, although they greatly respected the muskox of the Inupiaq. Yet above all, the general lack of wood or metal smelting among the Hanashaku caused the Ringitsu and Dena to look on them as poor and cursed. According to a Ringitsu story, Raven tricked the foolish Hanashaku into trading the forests of their land for more whales, not knowing that whales lived everywhere in the oceans.

As the Ringitsu came into this land, they too found their agriculture produced minimal returns. Intensive windbreaks and growing plants facing the sun only produced stunted wokas while many other favoured crops like river turnip failed to grow at all. Bistort and sweetvetch grew well, but these crops took two or even three years to mature. Hardy fields of dark-flowered riceroot became the most favoured crop, especially in the Manjimas, yet this only served as a supplement. The afforestation they practiced mostly failed at well, at best producing many shrubs and small deformed trees. The Ringitsu lifestyle thus needed to merge with the locals in order to succeed.

The Ringitsu devoted a great amount of effort and money to building the earthworks and windbreaks to salvage whatever they could of their traditional agricultural life in this hostile land. Much of this was related to status--the Ringitsu viewed those houses that could not afford a proper potlatch (including gifts of food from the earth) as impoverished, barbarised, and unworthy of dealing with. To the mercentile Ringitsu, this meant a social death for themselves and their associates, necessitating maintenance of Ringitsu traditions. The Ringitsu diet thus included far more plants in it than their Hanashaku neighbours.

The most expensive element of this involved the housing of the nobles which unlike storehouses or slave quarters used imported elements from the homeland. Initially the Ringitsu built traditional above ground longhouses using imported timber at great expense, but by the early 13th century the Ringitsu shifted to covering all but the front of these longhouses with earth and sinking much of it in the ground to make it easier to keep heated. These longhouses still involved much timber in their construction. Typically long beams of timber, elaborated painted with totem writing, stuck out of the house in various locations in addition to the totem poles that stood at the front.

Because of the prestige and wealth of the Ringitsu, these palaces blended with the local ceremonial houses known by the Ringitsu as qaakiit. Traditionally these houses served as a male-exclusive communal house where men worked, educated younger boys, held sweatbaths, conducted ceremonies, and elected their leadership. The wealth of the Ringitsu merchants invariably ensured they maintained a qaakiit of their own to properly induct themselves and especially their children into the community. Here begins the changing of the qaakiit's role.

With the coming of the Ringitsu, the qaakiit invariably attached to the palace of the wealthiest Ringitsu merchant. They functioned as important meeting places between the Ringitsu and the local community, where the Ringitsu conducted business and distributed finished goods. As these Ringitsu possessed more wealth than all but the richest Kh'adassak, they moved into leadership possessions in society. The boys who lived in the qaakiit found themselves attracted to the wealth of their host and often studied under the Ringitsu and married into their families. Through this means the Ringitsu assumed more and more control over local societies.

In the most culturally influenced areas, such as many islands or around the largest trading posts, the population shifted nearly entirely to speaking Ringitsu and considering themselves Ringitsu. At least several houses descended from Hanashaku clans, mostly in the remote parts of the Ringitsu world. Physical anthropologists long noted the appearance of the Ringitsu of Far Ringitania shared more similarities with nearby Yupiks or Unangakh than with the Ringitsu of Kechaniya and especially Old Ringitania. Genetic studies in the modern era confirms that many Ringitsu of the area are thoroughly assimilated Hanashaku, with Ringitsu descent most common in the male line.

Even in areas where Ringitsu presence remained limited like in much of the Hentsuren Delta, Ringitsu trade goods proliferated and enough Ringitsu traders visited villages to leave significant impacts on them. Ringitsu culture spread through local populations and influenced local customs to a great deal, so much that it is common to speak of a Ringitanisation of the Yupiks.

They were not unchallenged. In wealthier villages, traditionalists maintained their own qaakiit and railed against the Ringitsu resulting in murders and arson of Ringitsu homes. Those who failed at driving off the Ringitsu often migrated and formed new villages away from the Ringitsu, often inland. Even where traditionalist qaakiit could not be maintained, the locals learned well what the Ringitsu valued--ivory, a secure harbour to maintain their boats, and later tin--and greatly extorted them for these rights

Internal rivalries and conflicts between Ringitsu city-states carried on even in these remote lands. These Ringitsu raided each other or Hanashaku villages or undermined each other by gaining the allegiance of the Hanashaku. Massacres periodically occurred, where a Ringitsu house and their Hanashaku allies drove out a rival Ringitsu house. Invariably the men were murdered and the women and children ransomed or enslaved. The Hanashaku took the brunt of this as the Ringitsu viewed them as disposable, cheap labour (including fighting) and a captured Hanashaku would find it impossible to be ransomed back to their kin.

One famous example of this is the story of Khutsaayi, legendary founder of Khutsleinaan. Descendant of a Kechaniya house involved in the ivory trade, he held many links to the region of the Anasugi Peninsula. Common stories of him reference driving out evil spirits sent by wicked shamans and the Hanashaku granting him rulership for this deed, but only a few stories reference these shamans as Yupiks being sent by rival Ringitsu houses. The likely event was that in the early 12th century, Khutsaayi, his house, and assorted allies drove out rival Ringitsu from the area and through that claimed it as their own, calling it Khutsleinaan after a great bear.

Khutsaayi's wealth from raiding along with great success in the ivory trade turned Khutsleinaan into a true entrepot for the region. Although the town never had a population of more than 1,000 people, Khutsleinaan was by far the largest settlement in the area and held great influence over the villages for hundreds of miles around. Although Khutsaayi spent most of his life well away from Ringitania, his successors ruled the city until 1165 when they were defeated in the Nengena War against the Dena and the city sacked. Only the advantageous position of Khutsleinaan at the outlet of important portages across the peninsula allowed the city to rebuild.

Oral records indicate few died in the sack of Khutsleinaan for the Ringitsu evacuated the city. The Ringitsu and their assimilated Hanashaku vassals dispersed elsewhere throughout Far Ringitania, marking the true beginning of Ringitsu domination in that region. Many new villages sprang up while new Ringitsu houses emerged, all tracing their lineage back to Khutsleinaan. These villages clustered largely around the many sheltered inlets of Takugei Bay with its great population of whales, walrus, and seals.

The sack of Khutsleinaan and subsequent dispersal accelerated the Ringitanisation of much of the Anasugi Peninsula and much of the nearby coast to the western edge of the Kasshin Mountains. Nearby large islands such as Nunagaku Island likewise saw Ringitsu settlement which spurred a renewed Ringitsu push into the Sea of Ringitania initially for the sake of trade, but later for establishing new villages [3].

The Anasugi Peninsula emerged as a key area of settlement and economics. Although it's mountains held many mineral resources and the seas abounded in whales, seal, and walrus, by the 13th century the area's most vital role was as a trade hub. Merchants from Kechaniya and Hachigei Bay exchanged their wares with the towns and merchants of the Anasugi Peninsula on the Fusanian Sea [4] side and portaged it across the peninsula to the Sea of Ringitania side where they shipped it onwards to Far Ringitania. Too far and too independent from Kechaniya to end up forced to pay tribute, city-states like Iqkaaraakh, Ch'aak' Nuuw, or Taanagaan [5] at the tip of the peninsula made great income conducting this trade.

Much of the coastal lands of Far Ringitania, especially the coasts and islands, were nearly treeless no matter how much the Ringitsu attempted afforestation using methods which proved highly effective in the Anasugi Peninsula. Ringitsu life required wood for practically everything, from fuel, to housing, to shipbuilding and repair, crafting religious items, and thus the Ringitsu of Far Ringitania imported much from these areas. Other required products from trees included food (the powdered bark, added to food [6]), medicine, gum, and resin, all needed for the Ringitsu lifestyle to function. Just as a thirsty traveler in a desert will pay a fortune for water, the Anasugi Ringitsu profited greatly from selling forest products to those in a land that lacked it. They acquired much in whalebone, ivory, slaves, tin, and other resources at exceptionally cheap prices.

Naturally the Anasugi Ringitsu found themselves despised for charging so much for such common goods, and merchants from Anasugi frequently found themselves accused of greed. In times of need, ships from Anasugi found their goods stolen, occasionally accompanied with the murder or enslavement of crews. Other times raiders traveled far simply to illegally harvested stands of timber (in gross violation of Anasugi forestry custom) as a means of punishing the Anasugi Ringitsu. Only the rival of the Anasugi Ringitsu toward each other and the Hentsuren Dena as another source of wood (for those north of the Anasugi Peninsula) prevented them from acting as a cartel and effectively controlling all of Far Ringitania.

Along with this came the first Ringitsu settlement of the Yaigani Peninsula to the north, or Yaayqakhaani ("land of belugas") in Ringitsu. Although the Ringitsu trading networks reached this area by the early 12th century, many new settlers arrived in this once-remote area of Ringitsu trading networks seeking new opportunities. These trading posts dealt in walrus ivory and their speciality, oxwool, a highly valued commodity, and they hosted whaling ships that hunted the prized white beluga. Yet soon they found a new commodity in the form a rare, valuable ore that when mixed with copper produced an incredible metal.

The Ringitsu discovered this ore--cassiterite, the source of tin--in the early 13th century on the Yaigani Peninsula. Realising they no longer needed to trade for tin from the Dena, many Ringitsu houses attempted to settle and establish operations in the Yaigani Peninsula, bringing with them perhaps three thousand people. Many new villages sprang up from this and conflicts resulted against existing Ringitsu and the local Inupiaq. Others settled on islands off the shore of Yaigani, most notably the large island later called Seioka where smaller sources of tin were found.

Historians call this conflict the Tin War, and legend tells it involved warriors from all over the Ringitsu world as well as many from beyond, even as far south as the Imaru Basin. Legends speak of it in supernatural terms, with gods and spirits offering advice to the heroes and villains as they settle disputes with one another through violence or peace. Great destruction occurred at times, and entire islands lost their whole populations through massacre. After the inconclusive siege of Neikh'taka and battle outside the city walls, the two sides make peace with each other out of mutual economic need and divide the land among each other.

Two city-states came to dominate Yaigani--Deilit'aak and Neikh'taka [7]--representing the two main factions in the Tin War. These city-states hegemonised smaller villages both Ringitsu and Inupiaq through access to important resources from elsewhere in Ringitania. Both cities used force to maintain their position as the only way to export valuable tin, ivory, or oxwool to markets in distant Kechaniya. Allied cities after the war, they kept the peace in the region through regular meetings at the city of Nuuqei [8], located on a sheltered bay halfway between the two cities. These meetings attracted great amounts of commerce to the area, so much that the houses that controlled Nuuqei and surrounding villages became important players in the politics of the region.

The Yaigani Peninsula and the associated island of Seioka marked the northern end of Ringitania, yet the Ringitsu sailed ever further north. In the early 13th century, the Great Navigator Lukanuuwu, nephew of Yaakweish and conquerer of the Ushiyainu Islands [9] sailed north through the Strait of Ringitania and according to legend sailed further north than any Ringitsu to that point. In these seas he encountered the same discouragement as later Ringitsu thanks to the harsh weather and even shorter sailing season that limited the amount of whaling that could be done.

Across the Strait of Ringitania lay Diyaanakhaani, or "Land of the Other Side of the Sea." Ringitsu exploration into this area dated to the 12th century, although Ringitsu stories dispute who discovered the land. The Ringitsu viewed Diyaanakhaani as an archipelago to their west which offered similar resources to the Sea of Ringitania. Because of the sheer distance however, Ringitsu penetration of this area only started in the 13th century and was slow for many years. Cape Ginjuu, the easternmost point of mainland Asia, served as the main base for Ringitsu trade and contact with the local Asian Yupik peoples people as well as the Chacchou reindeer herders who arrived for trade from much further west [10].

Ringitsu trade even at this early date introduced the domesticated moose into North Asia. Although very rare in Far Ringitania, in the early 13th century a Yuitsu clan established a breeding population of moose thanks to trade with the Ringitsu. From here, these domesticated animals spread to other Thulean-speaking peoples nearby as well as the Chacchou, who slowly pushed east thanks to their interest in exotic trade goods from across the strait.

The remoteness and harshness of this region blocked greater Ringitsu exploration and settling. As the land lacked in trees and possessed poor soil that made even the barest of horticulture challenging, the Ringitsu settlements needed to import many goods from Kechaniya. Without these goods, the Ringitsu lacked crucial advantages like boatbuilding, their superior tools and weapon, and most importantly, their cultural lure as rich merchants. Further, the Ringitsu found little new in this land, with lands further south providing all the tin, ivory, and oxwool they needed. They thus sat at the end of a "logistical tether" stretching back a great distance to Kechaniya and the Anasugi Peninsula.

Because of these factors, the Ringitsu rarely sailed past Kunyatsu Bay, the northermost area that could be considered culturally Ringitanised. In this region the Ringitsu often traveled to the entrepot of Sisualik, one of the few true cities in Inuit lands with around a thousand permanent residents [11]. Particularly, the Ringitsu arrived during the regional trading fair in the summer which brought thousands more Inuit and Dena to the area, including those from Asia who sometimes brought valuable iron. Relations forged at this trading fair carried Ringitsu influence to the Fuunade Peninsula [12], usually considered the limit of Ringitsu influence and Ringitanisation. Beyond this peninsula, Ringitsu goods become rare and the Ringitsu unknown, particularly beyond Cape Numuku, the northernmost point in all Fusania [13].

Assimilation to Ringitsu culture in these regions accelerated in the mid-13th century due to the arrival of epidemic disease from the south. Despite the isolation, the well-traveled tin route served as a natural conduit for chickenpox, mumps, and whooping cough that killed nearly 10% of the population. Many newcoming Ringitsu already contracted these illnesses elsewhere, while the local Thulean peoples held no immunity. The most deadly killer, influenza spread sporadically, affecting only the mainland where it caused great disruption in the tin trade.

Island Ringitania

At the edge of the Ringitsu world lay Island Ringitania, or Daakaani ("out to sea country"), a country of storm battered islands scattered in the endless fog of the Sea of Ringitania. It was rich in marine life, including seals, walrus, and whales, yet the islands were sparse and treeless thanks to the cool, cloudy summers that remained chilly. The Ringitsu told many tales of the harshness of the land, and often extended its qualities to all Far Ringitania. They viewed those explorers, whalers, hunters, and merchants who traveled and lived in this land as both bold and desperate.

The Ringitsu defined Daakaani as all islands in the arc west of Uminaku Island (including the Hiyatan Islands) as well as the remote Fuunami Islands and Dekinowa [14]. Despite being spread out over the entirety of the Sea of Ringitania, they shared a remarkably common culture thanks to the sort of Ringitsu houses who settled the islands. Most of these Ringitsu came from Kechaniya and served as early explorers into the unknown starting around 1000 AD as Ringitsu penetration into the area of Takugei Bay began. The Daakaani derived largely from the Anasugi Ringitsu and in particular those toward the southwest of the peninsula who developed links with the local Hanashaku people known as the Unangakh.

Without the Unangakh, the Daakaani Ringitsu could not exist. The Unangakh provided them with the skills to thrive in a treeless land and in return, the Ringitsu provided them with ample goods from their forested lands and artisanal industries. Unangakh who became kin with the Daakaani Ringitsu taught them these skills and the Ringitsu favoured these Unangakh with ample trade goods and alliances against their rivals. As elsewhere in Far Ringitania where cultural fusion between the Ringitsu and native Thulean peoples occurred, the resulting culture became known for its hardiness, resilience, and utilitarian focus.

Prized sea mammals from seals to whales to the much-valued walruses congregated around these islands as this area marked a major migration route and breeding zone. With the aid of the Unangakh, the Ringitsu sailed far out into the Sea of Ringitania through island hopping. At times they peacefully traded with the new islands they found, while at other times conflict ensued leading the Ringitsu and their new Unangakh allies into open warfare. By around 1050, the Ringitsu established trading posts on Keiska [15], which remained their furthest settlement for several decades.

Conflicts in the Manjimas often resulted from rival houses of Ringitsu bringing their conflicts to these islands. They often enlisted traditionalist Unangakh who disliked the Ringitsu to defeat their rivals. The Ringitsu held the upper hand in many cases, with superior ships, weapons, and armour, but the Unangakh with their knowledge of the terrain and currents and their own well-organised and fierce warbands occasionally inflicted grave defeats on overconfident Ringitsu. The Ringitsu tendency to seek revenge for fallen kinsmen ensured victorious Unangakh (and their Ringitsu allies) were rarely left alone--in this case, the Ringitsu slaughtered the adult men in a village or even the entire island and enslaved the women and children. The Ringitsu greatly respected the ferocity, discipline, and resilience of Unangakh warriors and many found service far to the east as mercenaries.

Archaeology and genetics can trace these bloody wars thanks to the settlement patterns in the Manjimas. Islands which saw massacres and depopulation ended up very Ringitsu in character as determined by settlement pattern and tools, similar to the unpopulated islands in the middle of the Sea of Ringitania. More peaceful (or even resilient) islands remained more Unangakh, experiencing mainly linguistic assimilation, and a few islands remained almost entirely Unangakh culturally and linguistically.

The Ringitsu repeated a uniform model at nearly every step of the way. A Ringitsu noble and his crew established trading relations, marrying into the families of local elites and built a longhouse which served as the center for Ringitsu activities, especially ship repair. Typically their local (male) in-laws constructed a qaakiit attached to the Ringitsu longhouse where men and boys gathered. The exchange of ideas, education of boys, and relations formed here led to acculturation and eventually assimilation. The Ringitsu more efficiently used the interior of the islands with their pastoralism and garden, giving them a significant advantage over the coast-focused locals. Eventually, the mixed-race descendents of the Ringitsu and Unangakh found themselves as rulers of the island, where they connected with the rest of the Ringitsu world.

The Ringitsu introduced many new animals wherever they traveled, negatively affecting local flora and fauna. They brought reindeer to every island they reached, some populations of which turned feral. Alongside reindeer came other domesticated animals like towey goats, ducks, and Vinland geese and most notoriously lynx, which preyed on local bird life. They introduced a few wild species preferred for their fur like the ermine and the tundra hare, the latter of which greatly hindered Ringitsu attempts at introducing trees to the islands. Voles and lemmings came to the Manjimas as uninvited pests. These introductions caused great changes to the natural environment and the extinction of several species and subspecies of plants and birds between 1100 and 1400.

Around 1120 AD, the Ringitsu from Keiska stumbled upon the uninhabited Iqkaakh Island [16], a small, rocky island rich in sea life and the most remote of the Manjimas. This marked the first Ringitsu discovery of a uninhabited island so far from land and with it came the template the Ringitsu followed on many occasions in the future. The house which owned the ship that discovered the island became the owners and rulers of the island. They often appointed a younger nephew or even a son or son-in-law to collect resources from the island. This noble built a palace on the island claiming their ownership and brought in settlers (including slaves) from both members of their house and Hanashaku they either enserfed or enslaved.

Ringitsu trading posts expanded west from Iqkaakh and reached the Hatan Islands by 1130. They found no islands west of Hatan for many decades, yet still prowled far into the Sea of Ringitania on whaling expeditions. These Ringitsu discovered the Fuunami Islands in 1169. Rich in seals, the ruler of the island, the Great Navigator Yaakweish, as well as his descendants came to play a dominant role in trade and exploration in the Sea of Ringitania. Their central location not too far from the Ringitsu trading network yet far out to sea allowed them to become an important hub and resupply station. Despite the small size of the islands and their separation by around 70 kilometers, each island held nearly a thousand people thanks to this vibrant trade.

Yaakweish's nephew and successor Khiatitkh became among the greatest sailors in the history of the Ringitsu. In his youth, he became the first to spot Dekinowa Island while on a whaling expedition with his uncle. Exiled to the island of Hatan by his cousin Yaakweish II, he sailed far to the west and discovered the uninhabited Hiyatan Islands in 1210, where he established settlements and set himself up as ruler. From the Hiyatan Islands, he continued to conduct whaling expeditions into the west, coming closer and closer to that land known to the Ringitsu as Diyaanakhaani--that is, the Old World.

The Ringitsu of Daakaani practiced many peculiar customs. The distance of these islands typically caused the ruler of these islands to form his own house divided from the owning house, but to prevent disputes with the original house over ownership of crests and other symbols, the new house adopted different symbols. Most distinct among these symbols was their title, where the rulers referred to themselves as either a Great Captain (kak'takweiy s'aati) or Great Navigator (yaakw yasatani). Among the Daakaani, these titles lost their honorary significance found elsewhere and became titles held by those who ruled those islands.

The diet of the Daakaani Ringitsu focused on fish and sea mammals, although domesticated animals also served as a common source of meat. The cool summers (moderated by good volcanic soil in the Manjimas and long growing season) limited farming to gardens of bistort, sweetvetch, berries, garnishes like sappitsu and yonetsu, and their staple crop, riceroot, which mostly went toward feeding their livestock. The great increase of wood that Ringitsu trade and afforestation allowed permitted a great increase of drying and preservation of food compared to older times. Combined with the introduction of agriculture and pastoralism, this allowed for a much larger population of the islands. By 1250, around 50,000 people lived in the Manjimas with another 2,000 in the other island groups.

The Daakaani Ringitsu diet remained high in raw and smoked foods thanks to the fuel scarcity. They ate all manner of meats and fish raw, undercooked, or smoked, usually doused in whale or seal oil first. Among the most valued foods consisted of whale skin and blubber boiled in seawood. High in vitamin C and other nutrients, this food served as a vital source of sustenance. They served it in various ways, including wrapped in seaweed or pounded with dried berries. The latter served as a vital component of food brought by sailors on long voyages and ensured they remained free from scurvy. This component of the Daakaani Ringitsu diet spread throughout the Far Northwest where it remained associated with seafarers.

They relied heavily on trade with the Ringitsu of the outside world, to the point that the large population and lifestyle of the Daakaani Ringitsu and the Ringitanised Unangakhs became impossible without it. Misfortune that sank or drove off ships carrying essential cargos of wood, resin, sails, powdered bark, metals, and various dried food sources caused famine as they found themselves unable to repair essential items such as their boats. The long distances ensured they paid a premium for these goods. They typically bartered ivory, furs, and whalebone, but many times the elites were forced to sell their slaves so they might obtain valuable goods and maintain their status as community leaders.

The practices surrounding death found in Daakaani caused great abhorrence among other Ringitsu. For instance, the Daakaani Ringitsu practiced mummification of their dead, making them among the only Fusanian group to do so. A shaman removed the organs, cleaned the body in a stream, doused with a special embalming fluid, dried in a sacred fire (which sent the soul to the afterlife), dressed in ritual garments made from bird feathers, and wrapped it in hides. They suspended the body above the ground at a so-called "death temple", an elaborate structure of stone and earth that surrounded a dry cave where adult male relatives left offerings (women and children were forbidden entry). Mummification and burial was expensive and reserved only for wealthy nobles, who preserved themselves, their wives, and deceased children in these shrines.

Even more notorious was the Unangakh practice of dissecting corpses which carried over into Daakaani Ringitsu culture. Shamans dissected the corpses of dead enemies to both spiritually defile the dead as well as to train as doctors and especially embalmers. They often dissected the corpses of their slaves or even purchased dead slaves from others to increase their stock of bodies. Many unpleasant rumours surrounded this practice, such as men in debt having their bodies dissected after death or even the vivisection of living captives [17].

All of this led to Daakaani shamans and medicine men holding impressive knowledge of the human body. Reputation held them as powerful doctors and both feared and in high demand elsewhere in the Ringitsu world, where they both served the wealthy and mentored those medicine men with inquisitive minds. These healers spread the more pleasant (to Ringitsu society) aspects of their medical knowledge to the mainstream of Ringitsu society. For instance, they employed acupuncture as a cure for various illnesses. They commonly used acupressure techniques to massage the organs into their proper place (thus supposedly healing the body). Their belief in minimising bleeding at all costs (lest the soul pour out of the body) also passed into Ringitsu medical knowledge [18]. By the end of the 13th century, the medical system born in Daakaani and blended with traditional Far Northwest practices became the characteristic sort of medicine practiced throughout the Far Northwest.

It was not their medical system but their isolation that kept the Daakaani Ringitsu safe from the epidemics of the 13th century. Long sea journeys and the fact the diseases broke during cooler weather (when travel between islands was far rarer) ensured the distribution of chickenpox, mumps, whooping cough, and especially influenza remained sporadic. The former three diseases took decades to infect every single island, where like elsewhere in Far Ringitania, they helped increase assimilation to Ringitsu culture. The small populations ensured that only chickenpox (thanks to shingles later in life) ever became endemic in the area.

The worst impact of the epidemics in this region was the disruption of trade and maritime activities which caused famine and warfare in the islands over the very limited resources. As demand for goods plummetted, it became more and more difficult to coax traders to the area to carry vital supplies of wood, naval supplies, metal, and luxury food. Raids and violence ensued as people sought to pay with one good always in demand--slaves, the price of which naturally soared after so many died. Perhaps a quarter of the population in this region died, fled, or were sold in chains to other Ringitsu.

Only the great voyages of Khiatitkh alleviated things in this region. In 1220, the explorer Khiatitkh sailed to the west and came across a new land. It seemed much too large to be an island and many things about it seemed peculiar. Many trees grew in this land and the sun occasionally shined through the clouds, making it a warmer and more pleasant land. A great river stretched as far inland as he could tell. It seemed like a land of endless mountains and held many strange trees, birds, and animals Khiatitkh had never seen [19]. And most strangely of all--it was inhabited by people with familiar yet strange customs.

---
Author's notes

This is an older update that picks up where Chapter 58 left off. It covers the most remote parts of the Ringitsu world, the tin miners, walrus hunters, and ivory traders of the frigid Far Ringitania and the whalers and walrus hunters on the harsh and treeless islands of the Sea of Ringitania. These are resilient yet surprisingly fragile cultures reliant on knowledge of those they subdued and constant trade with their homeland.

The next entry will explore Diyaanakhaani in more detail, including both early contacts with the area and Khiatitkh's exploration and early Ringitsu dealings with the Itelmen and Koryaks. After that I will cover more of Kechaniya and Old Ringitania (and maybe to a degree the rest of the Far Northwest) in their response to the epidemics. It might feel a bit out of order, but the Diyaanakhaani events occur chronologically decades before the plagues. After those two updates I will continue with the story of Wyaich'nutl and Wayam for a few more, and then do an overview of North America (with a focus on South Fusania).

[1] - The Anasugi Mountains are the Aleutian Range of the Alaska Peninsula.
[2] - The Hatan Islands are the Near Islands, the westernmost of the Aleutians. OTL this occurred around 1000 AD, when the ancestors of the modern Aleuts spread across the Aleutians (as evidenced by remarkable uniformity of their language) but like other migrations TTL, pastoralism speeds it up. They likely displaced a group who spoke a related language.
[3] - Khutsleinaan is Naknek, AK. The Kasshin Mountains are the Kuskokwim Mountains of Alaska. Nunagaku Island is Nunavak Island
[4] - The Fusanian Sea is the Gulf of Alaska
[5] - Iqkaaraakh is Chignik Lake, AK, Ch'aak' Nuuw is Herendeen Bay, AK and Taanagaan is Adamagan, a former Aleut village at the tip of the Alaska Peninsula, roughly across from False Pass, AK
[6] - The inner bark (phloem) of many trees is edible and nutritious and can be added to soups and flour for texture. This was done by many cultures OTL in sub-Arctic regions
[7] - Deilit'aak is near Nome, AK and Neikh'taka is Wales, AK
[8] - Nuuqei is Teller, AK
[9] - The Ushiyainu Islands are the Diomede Islands
[10] - Cape Ginjuu is Cape Dezhnev, the easternmost point of the Asian mainland. The Chacchou are the OTL Chukchi who in the early second millennium started pushing east, absorbing various Eskimo-Inuit-speaking peoples who once inhabited most of Chukotka (their remnants are the Sireniki Eskimos and the Siberian Yupik). TTL's Chacchou arrive in this area earlier thanks to the larger trade routes and fine reindeer attracting their interest.
[11] - Touyatsu Bay is Kotzebue Sound. Sisualik is Sheshalik, AK. It was indeed the site of a great trading fair in OTL, although of course more limited in scope
[12] - Fuunade Peninsula is the Lisburne Peninsula in Alaska, a Japonicisation of a Ringitsu word meaning "Toward the North Wind"
[13] - Cape Numuku is Point Barrow in Alaska
[14] - Uminaku Island is Unimak Island, the easternmost of the Aleutians. The Fuunami (Kh'uunaani in Ringitsu) Islands are the Pribilof Islands and Dekinowa is St. Matthew Island.
[15] - Keiska is Kiska Island in the Aleutians
[16] - Iqkaakh Island is Buldir Island in the Aleutians
[17] - This part and the part about the mummies (minus the temples) is straight from OTL Aleut culture who held unique views on death compared to many Amerindian cultures
[18] - Also from OTL Aleut culture, although of course their use of acupuncture and acupressure was much different from common Western or Asian understanding. Like most traditional medicine, it contains a mix of placebos, actively harmful practices, and genuinely beneficial knowledge. In this case, the belief in blood causing the loss of the soul is exceptionally helpful
[19] - This is the central part of Kamchatka at the mouth of the Kamchatka River nearby Ust-Kamchatsk.
 
Last edited:
Top