The Kingdom of Tokavsk, Session 2: From the Encyclopedia of the Lands and Peoples of Helya, Part II

When all was said and done, the provinces to the west of Stav and Kuznetsk became the fledgling nation of Tokavsk.  The sparse population was largely oblivious that their nationality had just changed, as most at the time were peasants who only cared of obtaining their next meal; indeed, much of Tokavsk’s rural population today still lives in this manner.  Yet they had a shared ethnic identity that in principle bound them together.  In reality, 75% of the population was Zheren.  The other 25%, concentrated in the eastern regions of the new country, were a mixture of Stavs, Uzhreks, and Kurstukanians.  They had no say in the war, and many were adamantly opposed to it.  Many were compelled to leave, causing an inundation of refugees in the truncated western edge of Kurstukania.  Those who stayed did so either because they had lands in the case of the few Kurstukanian nobles or because they did not have the means to emigrate.  Some chose to embrace their newfound independence or to exploit it, and as such there was a second diaspora of these peoples toward Tokavsk’s largest city, Orod.  Still more settled along the southern hills.  Tokavsk, a lowland nation, was not easy to defend except by sea.  Her new king saw this as an immediate problem, but there was little he could do without inciting another war.  Besides, there were laws to be established, a government to be defined, and a national identity to be created.  A military was to be assembled, but fortifying her borders would have to wait.  At first, the economy struggled; there were few among the burgeoning elite who knew how to run finances, and those who did were familiar only with the Kurstukanian system.  As such, they used Kurstukania as a model.  Diplomatic ties were established with nations to the west and south, and old trade routes with Kurstukania were maintained.

It should be noted here that, seven hundred years after her inception, the borders of Tokavsk remain largely unchanged.  This is due to several factors:  one, the Tokavskan army has never had the military prowess to successfully conquer its neighbors for much of its history; two, vigilant mapmaking and the preservation of the original treaty with Kurstukania meant its borders could be restored with full confidence both times it was reconquered; and three, it has done well to not create animosity with other nations.  This does not mean Tokavsk is a peace-loving or genial state; rather, it means that war is frequently not in its best interest.  With little wealth to begin with, it is not viable for Tokavsk to wage extensive campaigns.  Furthermore, there is often internal turmoil preventing the noble houses of Tokavsk from uniting under one cause.  The structure of the Tokavskan government practically encourages lords to be at odds with one another.  Its monarchy is not strictly hereditary, meaning the power does not reside within a single family, but it is not elective like in the southern archipelago of Tarsinia.  When a king names his successor, he is not allowed to make the choice himself.  According to Zheren custom, this produces bias, and it means the best candidate is being denied the opportunity to rule.  The founders devised a system they believed would promote stability in Tokavsk, but to many modern scholars the system promotes anything but.

The Kingdom of Tokavsk, Session 1: From The Encyclopedia of the Lands and Peoples of Helya, Part I

The kingdom of Tokavsk is a midsized state located along the northern edge of the continent Helya.  Situated between Strazhov to the west and Kurstukania to the east, Tokavsk is largely regarded as a buffer between the wild empires of the northeast and the stiff, elitist peoples of the northwest.  Northern Helya’s ethnic groups are similar to one another, but the local belief that the west represents order and the east represents chaos has led to clear delineations among the population based on geographical location.  As Tokavsk is roughly centered along the northern coast, it is regarded by its neighbors as the equilibrium of order and chaos.

Tokavsk’s origins have been reduced to legend, but a few suppositions can be made based on historical documents.  First, Tokavsk was first mentioned in a census by the long-since fallen Bhrezhen Empire in 106 RA (Razan Age).  It was described as “A region surrounding the trading outpost of Orod that the locals referred to as Tokavsk, or ‘Place of the Firs’” (The Sixth Census of the Divine Domain of Bhrezhen).  Little else is said detailing the milieu of early Tokavsk.  In 504 RA, 84 years after the Bhrezhen Empire’s collapse, a veken (wandering monk) wrote of “A strange principality situated betwixt the Fractured Lands [of Northeast Helya, a swath of warring factions which were slowly being absorbed into Kurstukania] and the realms of Strazhov and Norvatsk.  Its people ascribe runes on their cloaks and bodies, on the surfaces of their huts made from skins, and on the ground.  They understood the trees and how they breathed, something they claimed I as a foreigner would never understand.”  Indeed, there is evidence of early Tokavskans having an affinity for rune magic; several sources document instances of Tokavskans healing each other and sick animals with one rune and summoning winds and driving snows with another.  Many of these are thought to be tales conjured to make Tokavskans appear backwards and savage, and almost no one doubts that the magics described within are untrue or at least greatly exaggerated.  The point of divergence—when Tokavskans became known as a distinct group within the Roskavan cultures—is unknown, but it seems to have occurred between the first and second surviving records describing Tokavsk.  Certainly, the Tokavskan culture was defined long before it grew into a state.  Subsequent records reveal interactions between members of the court of Strazhov and a man by the name of Berin Saskat, who is accredited with the founding of the Kingdom of Tokavsk.  It was clear that at that point the Tokavskans, as they were called by foreigners (the Tokavskans then and still do refer to themselves as the Zheren, and henceforth that term shall be used out of respect for the Zheren people and to distinguish between the ethnicity and the state), were already a well-established minority within the Kurstukanian empire.  They were poor trappers and hunters, regarded as primitive by the ethnic majority in Kurstukania, and had very little rights.  They could not own land, vote, or marry an ethnic Kurstukanian.  Conversely, the powers that be largely left the Zheren alone in what would become a grave blunder.  This gave rise to a solidification in ethnic identity, which in turn inspired some radicals into revolution.  The initial rebellion had little popular support, and indeed it went largely unnoticed even by the Kurstukanian military stationed out west.  But the overthrow of a local nobleman sparked outrage in western Kurstukania, setting in motion a chain of violent events that would lead to the Tokavskan War of Independence in 1001 RA.

The Kingdom of Tokavsk, Session 0: Entrance

You’ve traveled for days in the back of a cart, huddled under layers of furs and blankets.  Driving wind blows above you and through you in hollow howls, tugging eddies of snowflakes into your tearing eyes.  Your fingers are numb, though they’re wrapped in layers to prevent the flesh from freezing, and your satchel is stiff with ice.  Before you, a warmly clad man clutches the reigns of a grizzly.  You’ve never been to this part of the world, so you’ve only heard stories of the people who have tamed the great beasts of the north, and before you were half-certain they were hearsay.  But the land of permanent frost is as real as the skin on your bones.

Welcome to the Kingdom of Tokavsk, a boreal nation situated on the continent of Helya.  Beyond the snow-covered plains and dense forests lies a land of wild cold and beacons of heat, scheming nobles and superstition.  It is a land of eternal winter, of wild beasts and mystical ruins.  It is a land of tenacity and death.

What secrets will you find within this place, adventurer?  Will it be a journey of opportunity, or are you fated to meet a grisly end?

 

Hello!  Alias here.  I’m taking my blog in a different direction this time around.  I’ve been on a fantasy streak lately, so I am using this blog as an opportunity to create a new world.  My current plan is to start with an overview of the kingdom and its distinguishing features, then go from there.  Being the lover of character creation that I am, I may also write a few vignettes and character profiles.  This blog will likely have a lot less comedy than my posts from last year, but rest assured I am still the same complete dork with a weird sense of humor.  I simply have varying interests when it comes to writing and tend to flit between various subjects.  (That being said, I plan to stick with this blog topic for the duration of the year.)

Fire up, and Go Blue!

Alias

My Name is Minette, Chapter Eighteen: Another World (Final)

They sang along with the old man, raising their arms to the sky and moving their hips to the music. Their movements were free, liquid, completely unrestrained. The music possessed them.

They were free.

Paw swore, nudging Lumpy to move faster. The horse snorted, bothered, but obeyed, moving at a faster clip. With a tight jaw, Paw spit onto the front steps of the building as they passed. The patrons didn’t blink an eye.

Minette couldn’t look away, either, maintaining eye contact with the old man until the building and its music vanished out of sight.

“Paw, what was that place?” Minette asked.

“Droz’s only sin,” Paw growled with a startling vitriol. “That place is for freaks and thieves. Everyone knows that place is dangerous. Our walls are to keep riff-raff out–they don’t belong in here with us. If they can come in, they can get the bees out.”

“Oh. That’s… terrible,” Minette said, trying very hard to sound disgusted.

“You’re damn right,” Paw snapped. “Just keep working, marry a nice woman, give her a good son, and keep your head down, and you won’t end up like any of them.”

Minette didn’t respond. She turned around, trying to catch another glimpse of the mysterious establishment, but it was gone.

***

This signals the end of part one of My Name is Minette, and also my final submission as a blogger for Arts, Ink., as I am graduating in May! I have just completed the novel as my honor’s thesis, and hope to query it to agents and eventually get it published.

I would like to thank Joe and all the lovely folks at Arts, Ink. for all their support and for making a dream come true.

You can find my other works at theopoling.com, and my student org at transgncartsreview.org.

Thank you,

Theo

My Name is Minette, Chapter Seventeen: Something New

She looked to Paw and his clenched jaw. “Where are we? Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do,” Paw grit out. “We’re out in the sticks. It must just be a little bit further.”

Minette shook her head at Paw’s stubbornness. The only thing they stood to lose if they turned back and went another way was Paw’s pride. Minette stared straight ahead, hoping the hills would rise up over the next turn, guiding them safely to the mines. 

Droz didn’t feel like Droz here. Like this place was something unspoken–something not to speak about. And it was true, in a way—Minette had never been taught that Droz was anything other than a merry little community, safe in its walls.

Seeing something that contrasted that so aggressively made a cold feeling sit in her gut. How little did she know about the world beyond her front door?

A new building caught Minette’s attention. This one had a life dissimilar to the shacks and homes around it. It was two-story, brick, with a broad porch that wrapped around the building. All of the windows were open, and music, noise, and voices echoed out from the premises.

On the porch, a couple of old men with sunburned, sagging skin and bright white hair sat nursing their beer bellies in rocking chairs. One of the men had a banjo. He played a song that was like nothing Minette had ever heard before. It was twangy and morose, but oddly upbeat: she felt like she could weep over a dead lover and beat the bees out of a bad guy while listening to it.

The banjo man caught Minette’s eye. Her breath caught in her throat. Instead of glaring at her, or chasing her away like she thought he might, he smiled over at her, gap-toothed, and played even faster, singing along with a raspy croon. His eyes never left Minette’s, even as his fingers flew across the banjo strings.

Some other people came out from inside the building, and Minette couldn’t tell if they were boys or girls. People without shirts on. People with their shapes hidden under cloaks. They were of all heights and weights, skin colors and origins. They dressed like bandits and street workers, bartenders and night-walking women. They smoked and spit into spittoons.

They were something utterly new to Minette.

New, and not terrifying. No, they piqued Minette’s curiosity.

My Name is Minette, Chapter Sixteen: The Other Side of Town

The mines were on the opposite side of town, set into the hills and crags just beneath the walls like orange and brown canyons. Dark caverns stretched underground for miles, yawning, black mouths opening out from the hillside.

They headed toward Main Street, which was a straight shot through Droz and out the other side to the hills full of copper.

When they got close, though, Paw’s nose grew just as wrinkled as hers.

Main Street was the center of life in Droz, and apparently all that life was all out in the streets today.

The heat pushed crowds into its shady streets and pubs, food and drink in high demand. Bodies and donkeys and horses crowded one another, elbows bumping elbows and shoulders hitting shoulders, creating a density like that of cranberries shoved into a bucket to be smushed into juice.

“I know another way,” Paw grunted, jerking on Lumpy’s reins, directing the horse away from the loud, overlapping shouts and cries of peddlers and hagglers on Main Street. He took them on a zig-zagging route, moving farther and farther east until they were on the edge of Droz.

Minette had never been to this part of the city before in her life. She sat up straighter, holding her hand up as like a visor and squinting into the sun, peering at the buildings strewn about.

This neighborhood felt abandoned. Instead of cobblestones and pavers and bricks, this part of town was dotted with listing huts with gaps in the thatch; warped-wood, grey wooden buildings; and scraggly, unkempt vegetation creeping along dirt roads.

They were close to a run-down section of the wall, black with soot and shiny with moss, close enough that the entire area was cast in a permanent shadow.

They passed a few people walking in the road, wandering in the fields, lurking on porches. Each and every one of them stared up at Minette as she passed, stopping in what they were doing. She was a spectacle, something new, and the tired mistrust was apparent on their lined faces.

It made her feel itchy, sweaty, like eyes were sticking to the small of her back along with the humidity.

They were outsiders. They weren’t welcome here.