Chapter Seven: The Cold
The fourteenth century is defined as the true start of the “Little Ice Age” in the Western Hemisphere, Europe having felt its effects for around fifty years at this point. Temperatures dropped across Talbeah (with Keshigu not feeling the effects as strongly, if at all), forcing nations to adapt and change. Growing seasons shortened, which proved to be too much for several of the smaller native proto-states that had developed along the old Blade Trade routes and the coastlines. This created an environment ripe for consolidation and formation of more centralized states, as those would be better able to handle the sudden dearth of resources.
The Ohiyo and Oyangwa
In the beginning of this period, Setraland was engaged in competition with the Lenape and the Paqwachowng for influence over the Ohiyo River proto-states. Many of the Cooperatives that had been formed during the conflict with the “Wind Lodge” tribes had shifted their attention south, placing the northern disputes behind the fight for new, more fertile farmland. Despite the King Kalmann’s desires to wield a united front in Ohiyo, the Cooperatives were as interested in competing with each other as they were in competing with the Lenape or the Paqwachowng.
The developments in the Ohiyo over the opening decades of the century caused relations between the former allies to deteriorate to the point where it became increasingly difficult for ships bound for Setraland to stop in Paqwachowng territory to take on new supplies and oyangwa. In 1324, a mob of Ahonistzealots attacked and burned a few ships owned by Setralandersin the harbor; similar attacks were repeated in 1326, 1327, and 1329. Efforts to get compensation for these attacks by the ships’ owners proved to be for naught, as the Paqwachownggovernment leaned towards supporting the extremists’ actions. In 1330, the Paramount Chief announced a temporary “embargo” of goods flowing towards Setraland, closing his markets to “Christian” (meaning Asgardian and Setralander) shipping.
The Paqwachowng chieftains, perhaps, thought that they could get away with this position due to the importance of their position in the Talbeahan trade. Oyangwa from their vast network of tributaries were funneled into the marketplaces of the Old World, and was considered to be one of the most valuable assets Talbeah had to offer. The trade in oyangwa was nearly as profitable as the trade in maple sugar, and many Setralanderlords, company chiefs, and merchants were invested in it.
Oyangwa and shipping rights were likely intended to be used as a bargaining chip; however, it would have the opposite effect. Setralanders, being good and zealous Christians, were angered at the native’s refusal to allow Christian missionary work in their territory, as well as their supposed targeting of Christian ships. The Asgardians, being good and zealous businessmen, were fed up with the concept of a Paqwachowng“embargo’. This led to several independent efforts to find alternate avenues of trade and acquisition of oyangwa.
The most important of these efforts was the development of the domestic oyangwa industry in Asgard. The crop had already been grown by the Lukkai for centuries before the arrival of the Asgardians, and the connection of the region to international trade meant that some Lukkai grew it on the side for extra income. But, it took the Asgardian Commonwealth (as historians have come to label it) to make it a true business venture. Fields and forest were cleared on the islands, subsistence farming replaced by new grasteads [1], massive estates granted to wealthy and powerful Asgardians… with little to no regard for the native Lukkai. Often, the grasteads would arise on territory controlled by Lukkai vassals, enriching their chieftains who were cut in on the deal. But the demographic effect on the Lukkai who were often forced to work the fields were not positive; by 1350, Asgardian records indicate that many of the Lukkai were simply being worked to death out of sheer greed by those above them.
With the development of the grastead system, a new rendezvous location was needed for traders from Asgard and Setraland. The Paqwachowng territory, by virtue of its geography, had played host to traders from both realms, acting as a keystone in Talbeahan trade. Some traders risked the longer sea journeys, but this came with greater rates of ship loss. It would take an Asgardian being blown off course in 1348 to discover a passable replacement- the island of Ingunsland [2]. The discoverer who lent her name to this island, Ingun Folkmardottir, was a savvy-minded Asgardian trader who quickly realized the potential importance of “her” island. Within two years, ships were beginning to arrive at Ingunsland.
This, of course, had a net negative effect on the Paqwachowng. The sons of Ahon had not counted on the fact that they had as much to lose from disconnecting from the international market as the powers they were targeting, if not more so. For while the initial effect of the embargo was detrimental to Asgard and Setraland, both improvised and simply cut out the middleman. As the Paramount Chief relied on duties collected from the oyangwa trade and shipping fees to pay the wages of his retainers and further his policy objectives, his authority began to wane. Indeed, the Paqwachowng as a whole began to enter a period of weakness, as their entire system of government and expansion relied on finding new land to plant oyangwa and new workers to work the land.
Setraland
As economic war raged on the Atlantic coast, a disturbing fact began to crop up in the annals of Setraland. The winters were growing longer and the summers were growing colder. While the first few years this was written off as fluke, the effects began to make themselves felt more strongly by the 1320s. Crop failures and famines were common in the already tenuous Far-Northern reaches of the Kingdom, and they crept further south as time went on. The petty nobility of the north, never really involved in the politics of the greater Kingdom, stubbornly clung to their freezing lands, often fighting peasant revolts as those who worked that same freezing land tried to escape to warmer climes. Many simply slipped away, as individuals or family groups, and began the treacherous journey South.
Developments in the north, however, were of little concern to the Cooperatives that were gaining more and more strength during this period. The death of King Kalmann in 1312 resulted in another meeting of the King Thing, with the deals made here entrenching the authority of the nobility vis a vis their monarch. In, perhaps the most stunning move, the nobility voted to elect a veritable child as their King. Patrek, the 17-year-old grandson of Kalmann, was more interested in women and drink than running his realm and had accomplished little of note.
And this was where the weakness of the King Thing system reared its ugly head. Though it had been created as a way to ensure that the most qualified monarch would be selected, it had mutated to justify the selection of a monarch who would do the least to tread on the precious privileges of the nobility. As long as Patrek received a cut of the profits of international trade, as was his due, he had no incentive in involving himself in foreign adventurism or internal disputes. The Cooperatives had full run of the Kingdom.
Not that this wasn’t met with shock and horror by a certain slice of the population- namely, Patrek’s relatives who felt they were infinitely more qualified to run the Kingdom. One in particular, Feilan (his twenty-nine-year-old cousin), raised the flag of rebellion, promising to end the King Thing and restore righteous, Divinely ordained rulership to the Kingdom. Needless to say, his position was not very popular, and he was quickly and brutally put down.
The Cooperatives were focused on competition in the Ohiyo, as well as the effort to find alternate avenues of trade with Asgard. That is not to say they forgot their feuds with each other. Far from it. The competition simply shifted from the frontiers to the Ohiyo valley and the sea lanes. Volkert Smied, in The Conquest of the West, claims that this “dynamism” was what helped prevent the development of crippling decadence that could have led to the collapse of the Setralander Kingdom, given its position of wealth on the trade lanes. Like many of Smied’sconclusions, however, historians have moved away from this. While this competition did help encourage experimentation with tactics and encouraged an open mind in diplomacy, it did not do wonders for Setralander unity.
Sadly for them, however, Patrek would meet a rather ignominious end. In 1335, Patrek, chasing his latest mistress in a fit of drunken revelry, tripped and hit his head on a wall. The resulting head injury proved more severe than originally anticipated, and Patrek succumbed the following year. Therefore, in 1336, the King Thing met yet again to select their next monarch. Bribery flowed once again like money, and Kjaran, a 24-year old nephew of the “Merry Monarch” was selected.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Kjaran made an earth-shattering decision. Arriving at Dun Cormac with his pregnant wife to accept the King Thing’s offer, Kjaran just… stayed there. The nobility, the most important of which had second homes in that important settlement, waited, but Kjaran did not return to the island that the Kingdom was named for. He instead invited the Archbishop of Talbeah to travel to Dun Cormac to crown him, at the Cathedral of the King and Queen of Heavan, rather than the Cathedral of Saint Brendan back in Frithrborg.
This marked the end of the secular importance of the island of Setraland in the Kingdom. While it would remain the ecclesiastical center, being the home of the Archbishop, it would never again play host to the capital. Why was this? The Cold. Kjaran had found little value in remaining on an island where, increasingly, even turnips were having a hard time growing.
It would be this same cold that would enable the invasion of Akiak and Issumatar…
The Inuit Incursion
As the Cold tightened its grip on Setraland during the latter-half of the 14th century, reports filtered in from outposts in the north of strange occurrences. Sailors reported seeing small canoes in the dark that would vanish away as they drew closer. Monks recorded that movement would be seen in the snows, but on further investigation, there would be nothing but what appeared to be sled tracks. These were written off as fantasies, until the first attack in 1365.
Ever since the first interactions of the Fanaithe in the North of Talbeah, the peoples on the frozen periphery at the top of the map had remained a mystery. With the plagues devastating the populations of nearer Talbeah, the early Irish settlers had no real reason to look to the lands of ice, as they had richer, more fertile soil open for them. Perhaps there had been some small measure of interaction, on a more personal, individual basis (likely confirmed by Inuit records), but nothing that made the annals or chronicles.
Therefore, one must rely on oral testimony of the Inuit themselves for records of their past, until they explode onto the greater Talbeahan scene. According to them, their ancestors were devastated by the plagues that affected everyone else, butmanaged to band together and survive. Over the centuries, shipwrecked sailors, escaped convicts, and frontier wanderers interacted with them, and, slowly, through these interactions and their own ingenuity, the Inuit tribes had developed metallurgy, creating tools and weaponry out of iron forged from meteorites and makeshift mines. [3]
As the Cold progressed further, the various Inuit tribes began to expand their reach out further. This was their element, after all. They had adapted to life in the frozen tundra and seas, and this added more territory to their already extensive glacial patrimony. As they approached the more settled borders of Setraland, however, something unexpected happened. Two brothers, Akiak and Issumatar, began to unify the disparate Inuit peoples under one banner.
What was their reason for this? The oral traditions aren’tquite certain. Some held that the expansion was, in the beginning, accidental. Others say that they claimed some sort of religious mission. Whatever the case may be, by the early 1360s, an empire of sorts had arisen in the north, one that was ready to expand into more hospitable climes.
The blow of the Inuit fell squarely on the already beleaguednorthern nobility of the Kingdom of Setraland. These northern lords were, many of them, direct descendants of the original Fanaithe companies that had explored this land hundreds of years before. There had been few incursions of the Briton and Norse petty nobility, and the language of the north was mostly unaffected by the words they brought with them. It was, in many respects, the last place that would have been vaguely familiar to Saint Brendan had he been transported forward in time.
This was also the weakest region of the Kingdom, both in terms of manpower and economic strength. This made the Inuit attacks more successful than they had any right to be. Afterall, the Inuit had had little to no experience in siege warfare, especially of prepared positions like those they faced in the region. But these fortifications were undermanned, many were in disrepair, and their defenders were more than happy to run south to escape both the frosts and the invaders.
King Kjaran, further removed from the north by his relocation to Dun Cormac, was more interested in furthering the Kingdom’s cause in the Ohiyo than defending the a more unproductive region of his patrimony. A desultory relief expedition was launched in 1370, and managed to reclaim a city or two, but it was recalled and redirected towards supporting Setralander settlers in the Ohyo.
By 1375, the two Inuit warchiefs and the King would come to some sort of understanding, though it was never clear if it wasan actual formal one or one of convenience. The Mishta River [4] would delineate the Inuit and Setralander sphere, though raids across the line would be common for centuries to come. For the most part, these were launched by the Inuit, though a few noted Setralander ravagers would come across the pages of history. Nevertheless, something unthinkable even a century ago occurred.
Setraland had given ground. The Lenape may have shattered the myth of European invincibility, but it was the Inuit who had swept away the pieces. It was not only possible now for the Kingdom to be halted, but to suffer reverses and loss of territory. It was, truly the end of an era.
The Kingdom of the Setting Sun
Kjaran died a year after conceding the north to Akiak and Issumatar, and the King Thing met and elected his son, Athmiul, as King. Athmiul would oversee a few decades of relative peace. Under his reign, the Setralander control of the Ohiyo would be secured, as the Paqwachowng began to stumble and fall due to the economic mess they had created for themselves. The Lenape, though they did try, were simply unable to compete with the missionary zeal of Christianity. By the late 1380s, the various tribes and city-states of the region had pledged loyalty to monarchy- in Athmiul’s estimation, a glorious victory to make up for any ignominy that the Kingom had suffered at the hands of the Inuit.
However, this absorption would result in new concerns. To the West, the Neshnabé Peninsula [5] played home to the Zhingobiiwaatig Ningodwasswi, or “Six Pines”, a powerful confederation that, in many respects, reflected how indigenous societies had developed since the arrival of the Irish almost nine-hundred years before. Six central tribes formed the basis of the confederation, with sub-tribes and smaller cities pledging loyalty to them, tied by a complex relationship of marriage relations, tribute, and the development of a fledgling religious sect. Armed with metal weaponry, clad in metal armor, and with horses playing a role in both agriculture and the military, to any observer from the Old World they seemed much like any other state.
The Zhingobiiwaatig had come together as a direct result of the Cold. As fields became less fertile, smaller, weaker city states and tribes were unable to provide for all of their needs. This created insecurity, which could either be resolved by the dissolution of the relatively sedentary state and a return to a semi-nomadic lifestyle (seen most commonly in the mountains and hills to the south); or, turning to a larger, more secure tribe or city-state for protection. In many respects, the Cold is responsible for the mediatization of native states in Talbeah, all but forcing the next level of societal development upon the people.
This particular state was also able to compete directly with Setraland. With the trade and control of Lake Cullaun and Lake Kinale [2] on the line, the Zhingobiiwaatig deployed raiders and pirates to predate on Setralander shipping. Additionally, they sought to expand their own control in the region, presenting a front that could possibly reopen the recently settled question of ownership of the Ohiyo. A showdown was in the cards for the Setralanders and the Zhingobiiwaatig.
Athmiul, however, would not live to see that showdown take place. After a brief illness, the King passed in 1398, and was succeeded by his own son, Myrkjartan. King Myrkjartanwould be the face of Setraland for the next few decades, andfocused on uniting his Kingdom behind the idea of war with a settled state. He would also make a blunder that would sow the seeds for the largest conflict Talbeah had ever seen…
The Paqwachowng Collapse
As Setraland secured the Ohiyo in the closing years of the 14th Century, the Paqwachowng found itself in crisis. Though a new Paramount Chief had made a belated effort to try to reclaim Ssetralander and Asgardian business in 1361, ending the embargo, it was too late. Ingunsland had replaced the Chiefdom as a trade hub, and Asgard (and her Free Counties) had replaced it as the premier producer of oyangwa. This had weakened the authority of the Paramount Chief, which his ancestors had won through conquest, economic drive, and religious zeal.
The final blow, however, would come from the very religious zeal that the Paqwachown Chieftains had unleashed. Ahonism had come into its own, with a written scripture and a fervent and loyal following. The days when it was naught but another tribal faith were long forgotten, and in the minds of its practitioners and priests, it was every bit the equal of the Christianity it had been designed to imitate.
In the 1380s, a Paqwachowng, for lack of a better word, lay preacher began to amass a large following to his interpretation of Ahonist doctrine. Otiotan was his name, and he called for a wholesale revival of what he viewed as the “true principles” of Ahonism. The Paramount Chief exercised too much control, he preached, as did the rigid religious hierarchy he had set up to support him. Ahonism was meant to be a religion for everyone, he decreed, and it stood opposed to the very concept of centralized control. The reverses of the 14th Century were obviously signs that Ahone had grown angry with his people for perverting his doctrine.
Needless to say, this did not go over well with the powers that were among the Paqwachowng. Efforts to arrest or simply murder Otiotan failed, and instead incited a religious-driven revolt against the centralized chiefdom. The chaos gave others opportunities to snap at the heels of the distracted and weakened Paramount Chief; the Lenape, pushing from the North, saw this as the perfect chance to make up for coming late to the game in Ohiyo and expand their influence south. Many of the tribes that had been subdued by the Paqwachowng and forced to grow oyangwa for sale in international markets saw this as a chance to regain their freedom.
This also created a power vacuum in Southeastern Talbeah, which was to be fulfilled by the Mvskokvlke Confederation. Much like the Zhingobiiwaatig, the Mvskokvlke were the result of the Cold, as well as geopolitical concerns, forcing tribes to come together into larger polities. Its sudden rise to prominence over the course of the 1390s, as it absorbed several of the tribes that had revolted from the Paqwachowng and suddenly found themselves without a protector, put it on the map in more ways than one. It’s feelers south into Myrwick also horrified the Asgardians, who had never had to deal with an organized neighbor before.
Though other, more supraregional concerns would prevent any clashes in the next century, the Mvskokvlke and the Asgardians would, one day, come to blows over the fate of the Southeast…
Let the Good Times Roll
To Asgard, the close of the 14th Century was a renewed Golden Age. The opening of the oyangwa trade, wrested from the near monopoly of the Paqwachowng, saw gold flow into their coffers more so than ever before. Now was the time of the Myrwick Pyramids, gaudy imitations of Fjothrland religious temples that were instead palaces and shrines to the almighty power of trade. Asgard had grown from a swampy settlement of displaced raiders to a city in its own right. Men and women alike grew rich in the trade, or traveled to Fjothrland to participate in the wars there as mercenaries.
But not all was well for everyone in Asgard. The Lukkaipopulation was devastated by the sudden embrace of the grastead economy. Starvation was the main culprit, as fields that had been used to feed their tribes were plowed over and used to grow oyangwa. The Asgardians, though, always looking for ways to make more efficient money, came to realize that destroying the Lukkai population may not be the best way to get oyangwa long term.
Two solutions presented themselves; the first was the beginning of the Trans-Lukkai slave trade. Asgardians, who already had extensive contacts in Fjothrland, began to purchase or capture natives there and carry them off to their grasteads, forcing them to work the fields in exchange for minimal food and board. The second also involved slavery; the grasteadsystem spread itself into the Free Counties along the Shinguriver. The rich soil there meant that the grasteads could be larger and more efficient than any in the Lukkai.
Asgard had found its niche; it was a thlassocracy, a slavocracy, and a tradocracy. Merchants more than warriors drove its politics and its decisions. However, Golden Ages cannot last, and Asgard’s was very soon to end with a crash…
K’omani
As always, K’omani grew from strength to strength, just outside of the ken of the Setralanders, Asgardians, or Lenape. As the Cold tightened its grip, K’omani expanded both south and north, sticking to the rivers, absorbing the city-states that clung to their banks through conquest or vassalage. By the dawn of the new century, K’omani had become the largest power on the Kikadit River, controlling trade there. Its religion followed in the wake of the expansion, traced by the discovery of anti-Jesus figures in archaeological digs in the region. Indeed, K’omanihad positioned itself well to both survive the Cold, as well as take advantage of its mediatizing influences.
This would grant K’omani a powerful base of population, eventually granting it the strength to drag Talbeah into a titanic conflict. The fates of great religions; the destiny of kingdoms, confederations, and tribes; the future of the entire continent would be settled by a war, the scale of which had never beforebeen seen…
[1] Grastead, direct translation is “Plant-Place”. This term was adopted as these were farms specializing in a single cash crop. The equivalent word OTL would be a plantation. These did not spring up overnight, of course. They were the natural development of the Asgardian effort to exploit the indigo trade, which created proto-grasteads. It took the vacuum of the Paqwachowng withdrawal from the oyangwa trade, however, to fully kick-start the system.
[2] OTL Bermuda
[3] Inuit metallurgy, IOTL, was surprisingly advanced. Tools and weapons made from meteorite iron were not unknown among them.
[4] OTL Churchill River
[5] OTL Michigan Peninsula