P was tricky - nothing came to mind, until I found two paragraphs I'd written a while ago on the invasion of this trading city by a culture I'd clearly based on an ancient Greek/Roman civilisation. Then I started writing, and couldn't really stop. I'll have to work on brevity..
Anyway;
This coastal city has
squatted on the western shore of the Gulf of Silver longer than any
of the inhabitants have knowledge of, and no stories of its
establishment or founding seem to exist. For all purposes, it is easy
to assume that it always existed, and served its purpose of opening
the lush interior plains and jungles, and the cities of Ji Phandar
and Sy’ren, to the outside world. The animal and vegetative wealth
of these cities flows out – captured and trained exotic animals,
timbers of all sizes and shades, and plant leaves, fruits, berries
and juices that exist only in these lands – and the metals, jewels
and utilitarian of the northern and eastern lands flows in, along
with new ideas and entertainments.
But this story is not
about the interior, nor the mighty conflicts of the Southern
City-States, which lie to the north of this location.
It concerns recent
changes to Port Oorath, which may or may not have actually changed
the life of the inhabitants.
Traditionally (for
there is no other way in this city) Port Oorath is managed, or
mismanaged, by the twelve Merchant Princes (prince or princess, the
title is the same), an honour held by the richest, or most
successful, or most daring of the traders of the city, or at least,
those at want the honour. Service is for life, or until they give it
up, or lose the edge that propelled them to such heights, and common
consensus usually anoints a suitable replacement soon enough. The
role of a Merchant Prince is to support or enable the city’s trade,
and minimise threats to it, and its trade. But if one chooses to
spend their time undermining another Merchant Prince, that is
considered fair sport as well. It gives the holder licence to spend
and recover large sums of coin, both their own, and what they can
skim off the lawfully gathered tax and excise revenue. There is a
large and quite efficient bureaucracy that supports the functioning
of the city, in spite of the individual ambitions of the Merchant
Princes.
The invasion of Port
Oorath by five legions of Trieste heavy infantry occurred 21 years
ago, and came as a surprise to the inhabitants. The only committed
defenders of the city were a mercenary company that had been
decimated in an assault in the Southern Cities conflicts, and had
taken the contract to man the main gates in the city for a chance to
recover and recruit. When the odd hundred or so of the Whitetail
Blades finally mustered, and stood at the Sea Gate, facing two
thousand legionaries, and watching the remaining three transports
jostle to unload on the few remaining vacant spaces of land on the
piers, they lost no time in surrendering and taking the invading
representatives on a tour of the city.
The populace of the
city barely noticed the invasion, and accepted the strange square
silver coins of the invaders easily enough as they tried to force
their way through the crowded markets. However, during the initial
occupation, the leaders took advantage of its distraction, and two of
the Merchant Princes were stabbed to death by their rivals, and
several strategic locations or items were occupied or abducted, or,
in the case of Lothmal’s Tower, both.
The invasion was
amazingly successful, or a complete failure, depending on how one
looked at it. Two of the Trieste officers were duly appointed as
Merchant Princes, but the entire bureaucracy has been retained as the
only way of keeping the city functioning, and the goods (and taxes)
flowing.
The invasion was
initiated by the political situation of the Trieste Homelands – a
narrow coastal strip and islands far to the south, on the other shore
of the Painted Sea. It is positioned with a towering mountain range
behind them, a warlike civilisation that uses domesticated giant
insects to the west, and the fortified lands of the Beastmen to the
north. A decline in open hostilities with the Beastmen around three
decades ago resulted in both a large standing army with little to do,
and a generation of young, noble offices with no opportunities for
upward social progress through battle.
Enter Lomos Numa, a
minor noble of Karitha Island, who paid close attention to the
stories of traders and travellers from the distant northern lands,
that his forefathers had invaded, overrun, and then lost, half a
millennia ago. He developed a rather optimistic plan to conquer the
mysterious, hot lands to the northwest, to bring riches to the
Empire, and set him on the road to glory and rulership. Bargaining
with hard men and tired, disappointed generals, he borrowed or hired
enough ships, soldiers and provisions for the endeavour, and set off.
The hot, humid climate
of the interior, combined with rust, diseases, strange and dangerous
flora and fauna, and the poison arrows and spears of the elusive but
antagonistic inhabitants soon blunted any hope of pushing inland, and
after the money ran out, three legions and all of the transports
headed home, loaded down with an interesting selection of animals,
carved timber fetishes and fine materials and alcohols that, although
unlikely to reduce the expedition’s debt by much, will probably
revitalise Trieste culture in the short term.
Of the remaining two
legions, all those willing to continue their military career (roughly
half) have followed the more war-like officers, and have headed to
the endless conflicts of the Southern Cities, and their immortal
rulers, to become a mercenary force. A thousand well trained heavy
infantry, supported by a cadre of soothsayers and diviners, has
fitted well into the chaos of these lands.
Of the remainder, most forfeited their training and rank, and were soon incorporated into
the population of Port Oorith. Although many settled down with
suitable local partners (as the indigenous peoples tend to be slender
and lithe, with golden-coppery skin and heart shaped faces, and
almond shaped eyes, there was no hardship here). The locals
themselves were amazed by both the different appearance of the
Trieste population (pale olive skin, square faces and jaws, blue or
grey round eyes and far too much dark wiry hair, including, on men,
almost permanent 5 o'clock shadow) and their ability with
engineering, architecture and civic works. This has led to a massive
improvement, with roading, water supply and docks improvements all
started recently, although given the natural chaos of the city, and
its adherence to unwritten traditions, these are unlikely to be
completed in our lifetime.
Lomos Numa himself owes
several fortunes to money-lenders and nobles alike back home, and so
has no plans to return. He is enjoying is new role as a Merchant
Prince, and is responsible for most of the planned infrastructure
improvements. Also, the Emperor cannot rescind his citizenship while
he is absent without also excusing the coin he owes, as only Trieste
citizens are subject to the complex laws of financial transactions.
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