Guns of the Rapanui OR The Polynesian Colonization of the Americas
- Thread starter TheLordProtector
- Start date
I like the story and I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Although it would be more work, what do you think about a 2nd POD/timeline?
In OTL, it's postulated that the Polynesians may have visited southern California between 300-800 AD and taught the Tongva (Los Angeles) and Chumash (Santa Barbara) how to make sewn plank canoes. They could've come from the Marquesas or Hawai'i. They seem to be one of the few Amerinds with this (somewhat) advanced oceangoing capability along with the Mapuche. POD: It might be interesting to see this North American Polynesian civilization grow and conquer So Cal, expand south by canoe and (depending upon the date/era they get to central and southern Mexico) come into contact with the Teotihuacan, Maya or Toltec people. Then, these two civilizations of ancient mariners someday meet halfway (Panama or Columbia?) and realize that they are distant cousins (similar language). Just a thought. If you don't like it, cool. I just let my imagination wander a bit.
Either way, keep up the good work!
Although it would be more work, what do you think about a 2nd POD/timeline?
In OTL, it's postulated that the Polynesians may have visited southern California between 300-800 AD and taught the Tongva (Los Angeles) and Chumash (Santa Barbara) how to make sewn plank canoes. They could've come from the Marquesas or Hawai'i. They seem to be one of the few Amerinds with this (somewhat) advanced oceangoing capability along with the Mapuche. POD: It might be interesting to see this North American Polynesian civilization grow and conquer So Cal, expand south by canoe and (depending upon the date/era they get to central and southern Mexico) come into contact with the Teotihuacan, Maya or Toltec people. Then, these two civilizations of ancient mariners someday meet halfway (Panama or Columbia?) and realize that they are distant cousins (similar language). Just a thought. If you don't like it, cool. I just let my imagination wander a bit.
Either way, keep up the good work!
It might. I'm not terribly sure how far it will spread (though the plagues caused by the pua'e will certainly wreak havoc throughout the Americas).
dead thread?
Never! I've merely been busy: I'll have an update up later this week(end), though it might be a little while longer.
That's a fantastic idea (though I'm confused as to where you found your facts on the Mapuche being oceangoing)! I'm a little wary of using it, though, as I really don't want to wank the Polynesians -that- much. I'll think about it, we'll see.
Good to know, Just saw this and I like it a lot! Very original, something not talked a lot about around here
keep it up
Thank you, I will!
Hi, guys. I know this has been dead a long time, but I'm going to resurrect it! I have plans for the next update! SOON!
This is an interesting scenario, in a part of the world that doesn't get a lot of AH attention.
Nice story, hope you can continue, however the Inka didn't became an empire until 1250-1300, before they were only a city-state.
The dominant empire in this time was either Wari or Tiawanaku, their colapse allowed the Inka to build upon their knowledge and techniques, just like the early Carthaginians and Greeks and the late Romans
The dominant empire in this time was either Wari or Tiawanaku, their colapse allowed the Inka to build upon their knowledge and techniques, just like the early Carthaginians and Greeks and the late Romans
Sometimes I wonder why the Polynesians didn't colonize South America further. They sailed all the way out to little islands, so a continent would be hard to miss. Perhaps because the continent was already populated, but this can not be a solid reason. Hawaii was colonized by two waves of Polynesians. Aside from the Vikings, these sea people (best navigators in human history, in my opinion) were the only non-Indians proven to have reached the Americas before Colombo.
Er, on further researching the civilizations of South America, I find I've made a horrendous mistake. As luis3007 points out two posts above this one, there was indeed no Inka empire in the time I'm covering--instead, there were the holdings of the city-state of Tiwanaku, and the civilization of Huari. Unfortunately, I can't fix the last update, as it's been too long, so I'll put the changed text here. Also, that map is no longer canon.
Changed text
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Phew! I hate having to write these hideously depressing parts, but they have to happen. Next time, more cheerful things as the Rapanui begin to advance!
Chapter 4: The Poisoned Air
1051 CE—1100 CE
(1)In the end, of course, there would be no “Tiwanaku aggression”. No, the Tiwanaku were rather busy dying of pua’e-borne plague. This plague, along with the already widespread famine and weakening of Tiwanaku society, would be the killing blow for the city-state. The great, ancient city, whose temples soared up to the sky and whose palaces were among the grandest in the world, burned as those who had not yet been infected attempted to burn the plague out from their city, to save themselves. The infected died in thousands, not of the illness, but of the choking smoke that filled the air and the seething flames which burned flesh and hair. As the fires of Tiwanaku gradually burned themselves out, they also began to spread.
North and south, throughout all the Tiwanaku lands, the uninfected burned everything to save themselves from the dark gods that had brought this horrible illness upon them. Fires raged throughout the land, killing even more thousands. By the time they had burned out, the city-state’s estimated population of 1,485,000 had shrunk to something more like 285,000. And these, unfortunately, were still vulnerable to the plague. And so the cycle repeated itself, with those who survived it beginning to move north into Huari(2) and east over the great mountains, where they would find no comfort, but only another apocalyptic plague. By the time the cycle had ended, the great, ancient city of Tiwanaku was empty, its streets filled with charred black bodies like logs, its soaring temples blackened and destroyed. In the end, there was nothing left, and a chapter of the tale of the Great Island closed with a hollow slam.
Actually, it was the great plague that saved the Huari. Wari, the great city, had fallen into disrepair and ruin by the time the plague came, and only small groups of Huari still lived there, while many others had spread out across the countryside, raiding for food. But the plague changed all that. While many thousands of Huari died, many others lived. Among these others was a man known as Quipu(3). He rallied the Huari behind himself, speaking of how the gods had frowned on their abandoning the great city and leaving it to wrack and ruin, and had made them suffer for this. Under his guidance, the Huari would rebuild Wari even greater than before, and peaceful agriculture rather than terrible war would once again cover the land in a blanket of green and yellow. In the west, meanwhile, the great oracle city of Pachacamac survived the plague with a still-large population, and began to accumulate its own empire on the coast.
On the downside—or perhaps the upside depending on your point of view—thousands of the warlike, troublesome Huari died, and the reach of the Huari quickly shrank. Many more thousands moved northwards, not heeding the call of Quipu, and instead spreading their knowledge, and their sickness. Because of this, the tiny Kingdom of Chimor would collapse, never to encompass a thousand kilometers of coastline as they had believed their destiny to be. The Chincha, in the east, who believed they had come from a distant island far across the ocean(4), were rapidly lost to history: their small population was quickly burned through by the plague, and the few who were left simply joined the hordes of refugees. In the cloud forests of the Andes, the Sacha Puyos or Chachapoya people, famed for their military talents and their strange, alluring beauty, survived the plague and indeed profited from it. Though many of them died, those who survived found that peoples weakened or destroyed by plague are easy to subjugate, and so the small Chachapoya empire began to grow in the Andes, soon to be famed for their mountain terracing(5). The Paltas people who inhabited the mountains were to be one of their first conquests.
To the north, in what would, in our world, become Colombia, the Muisca people were first devastated, and then recovered quickly. Their two states, the Bacata and the Hunza, under their two sovereigns the Zaque and the Zipa, united in this time of trouble, and proceeded to become one of the more prosperous post-plague civilizations, though they would not expand very quickly. The mysterious Quimbaya civilization in the eastern highlands simply vanished, leaving behind a wealth of beautiful, technically amazing gold artifacts to puzzle future archaeologists(6). The Guane people, simple farmers of cotton and pineapple, were subjugated by the Muisca—which they didn’t altogether mind. The Carib peoples on the coast, violent, ritualistic cannibals with a strangely peaceful religion, were devastated, and quickly left the mainland for their old homelands in the smaller islands near the Great Island. The plague spread along the multidinous trade routes throughout the islands, and then north, into the heartlands of the northern part of the Great Island.
The glorious city of Cahokia along the great river which served as the lifeblood of the north died, then lived again as its people, driven by religious fervor, returned to the city and built more and more mounds. It would become even more glorious then before, and become the seat of a mighty riverine civilization: but later, later. The Haudenosaunee people in the north, just beginning to coalesce into the Great Island’s second democracy, were ravaged by the plague and scattered to the four corners of the earth, never to fulfill their destiny. The Tsalagi(7) people of the interior were devastated as well, but ingenious as they were, found ways to survive. Tsalagi agriculture was one of the first in North America. The Pueblo people of the southwest fell quickly: societal collapse had already weakened them, and their newest incarnation, the Anasazi, was still weak and nascent in its formation. There will be no great cliff cities here.
And so the plague burned its way throughout the Great Island, and changed history, as plagues have always done.
Notes
(1) If you think this is implausible, just read about what smallpox did to native peoples in the Americas. This plague is like that.
(2) The Huari were already pretty weak: societal collapse had begun by then.
(3) Literally, “counting-cord”. This kind of thing has happened before, you know.
(4) There is no definite proof that the Chincha were actually from Easter Island or any Polynesian lands, and so I’m going to assume that they weren’t for now. Just that it was a legend like any other.
(5) The Chachapoya are going to be somewhat an Inka-analogue in this TL, but not overmuch. Just letting you guys know.
(6) As per OTL, really.
(7) Cherokee.
Chapter 4: The Poisoned Air
1051 CE—1100 CE
(1)In the end, of course, there would be no “Tiwanaku aggression”. No, the Tiwanaku were rather busy dying of pua’e-borne plague. This plague, along with the already widespread famine and weakening of Tiwanaku society, would be the killing blow for the city-state. The great, ancient city, whose temples soared up to the sky and whose palaces were among the grandest in the world, burned as those who had not yet been infected attempted to burn the plague out from their city, to save themselves. The infected died in thousands, not of the illness, but of the choking smoke that filled the air and the seething flames which burned flesh and hair. As the fires of Tiwanaku gradually burned themselves out, they also began to spread.
North and south, throughout all the Tiwanaku lands, the uninfected burned everything to save themselves from the dark gods that had brought this horrible illness upon them. Fires raged throughout the land, killing even more thousands. By the time they had burned out, the city-state’s estimated population of 1,485,000 had shrunk to something more like 285,000. And these, unfortunately, were still vulnerable to the plague. And so the cycle repeated itself, with those who survived it beginning to move north into Huari(2) and east over the great mountains, where they would find no comfort, but only another apocalyptic plague. By the time the cycle had ended, the great, ancient city of Tiwanaku was empty, its streets filled with charred black bodies like logs, its soaring temples blackened and destroyed. In the end, there was nothing left, and a chapter of the tale of the Great Island closed with a hollow slam.
Actually, it was the great plague that saved the Huari. Wari, the great city, had fallen into disrepair and ruin by the time the plague came, and only small groups of Huari still lived there, while many others had spread out across the countryside, raiding for food. But the plague changed all that. While many thousands of Huari died, many others lived. Among these others was a man known as Quipu(3). He rallied the Huari behind himself, speaking of how the gods had frowned on their abandoning the great city and leaving it to wrack and ruin, and had made them suffer for this. Under his guidance, the Huari would rebuild Wari even greater than before, and peaceful agriculture rather than terrible war would once again cover the land in a blanket of green and yellow. In the west, meanwhile, the great oracle city of Pachacamac survived the plague with a still-large population, and began to accumulate its own empire on the coast.
On the downside—or perhaps the upside depending on your point of view—thousands of the warlike, troublesome Huari died, and the reach of the Huari quickly shrank. Many more thousands moved northwards, not heeding the call of Quipu, and instead spreading their knowledge, and their sickness. Because of this, the tiny Kingdom of Chimor would collapse, never to encompass a thousand kilometers of coastline as they had believed their destiny to be. The Chincha, in the east, who believed they had come from a distant island far across the ocean(4), were rapidly lost to history: their small population was quickly burned through by the plague, and the few who were left simply joined the hordes of refugees. In the cloud forests of the Andes, the Sacha Puyos or Chachapoya people, famed for their military talents and their strange, alluring beauty, survived the plague and indeed profited from it. Though many of them died, those who survived found that peoples weakened or destroyed by plague are easy to subjugate, and so the small Chachapoya empire began to grow in the Andes, soon to be famed for their mountain terracing(5). The Paltas people who inhabited the mountains were to be one of their first conquests.
To the north, in what would, in our world, become Colombia, the Muisca people were first devastated, and then recovered quickly. Their two states, the Bacata and the Hunza, under their two sovereigns the Zaque and the Zipa, united in this time of trouble, and proceeded to become one of the more prosperous post-plague civilizations, though they would not expand very quickly. The mysterious Quimbaya civilization in the eastern highlands simply vanished, leaving behind a wealth of beautiful, technically amazing gold artifacts to puzzle future archaeologists(6). The Guane people, simple farmers of cotton and pineapple, were subjugated by the Muisca—which they didn’t altogether mind. The Carib peoples on the coast, violent, ritualistic cannibals with a strangely peaceful religion, were devastated, and quickly left the mainland for their old homelands in the smaller islands near the Great Island. The plague spread along the multidinous trade routes throughout the islands, and then north, into the heartlands of the northern part of the Great Island.
The glorious city of Cahokia along the great river which served as the lifeblood of the north died, then lived again as its people, driven by religious fervor, returned to the city and built more and more mounds. It would become even more glorious then before, and become the seat of a mighty riverine civilization: but later, later. The Haudenosaunee people in the north, just beginning to coalesce into the Great Island’s second democracy, were ravaged by the plague and scattered to the four corners of the earth, never to fulfill their destiny. The Tsalagi(7) people of the interior were devastated as well, but ingenious as they were, found ways to survive. Tsalagi agriculture was one of the first in North America. The Pueblo people of the southwest fell quickly: societal collapse had already weakened them, and their newest incarnation, the Anasazi, was still weak and nascent in its formation. There will be no great cliff cities here.
And so the plague burned its way throughout the Great Island, and changed history, as plagues have always done.
Notes
(1) If you think this is implausible, just read about what smallpox did to native peoples in the Americas. This plague is like that.
(2) The Huari were already pretty weak: societal collapse had begun by then.
(3) Literally, “counting-cord”. This kind of thing has happened before, you know.
(4) There is no definite proof that the Chincha were actually from Easter Island or any Polynesian lands, and so I’m going to assume that they weren’t for now. Just that it was a legend like any other.
(5) The Chachapoya are going to be somewhat an Inka-analogue in this TL, but not overmuch. Just letting you guys know.
(6) As per OTL, really.
(7) Cherokee.
Polynesian TLs of any kind is something this forum has had a severe lack of. Subscribed.
I keep quitting on this. I think I have commitment issues. I'll try to actually update this and work on it, cause I love the idea and I'll feel bad if I don't finish it.
I think I have commitment issues. I'll try to actually update this and work on it, cause I love the idea and I'll feel bad if I don't finish it.