To His Royal Sovereign, Kind Brathus of Menea
From Cheedle, his servant and accountant
I have completed my journey across the Narrow Sea and made my way across the Ramparts to the vast steppes which lay beyond. I have spent six summers here in this place and while I have come no closer to finding your missing silver, I have many answers to the questions you asked when I was your accountant. You will recall that it was your firm wish that I determine the point at which "seventy two gold bars was rendered into mere dust." I have not found that point, nor do I believe it exists.
Contrary to your misapprehension of this land, there is no merchant or bandit here who runs this vast land. The traders of this land do not journey over long distances, as we are used to in Westrun. Rather goods are moved in much smaller increments and over much shorter distances under the "protection" of various Warlords. These Warlords, or Wangs, each charge a mark up for the safe passage of goods through their area of influence. By the time 72 gold bars of material reaches the opposite end of the continent, it may only realize 35 gold bars in buying power. Then, the return trip may be equally as costly.
Just as there is no particular bandit in charge, it is equally a mistake to call this place, Shu. For I have learned that Shu is but one metropolis in the river valley that shares that name. I haven't been there, as unlicensed visitors are treated to death, but I have looked upon its walls and seen it first hand. I can attest that it is considerably more massive than Menea, and even several times larger than Peakshadow. If I were to set out across Shu at daybreak on the first day, I might not reach the opposite wall before noon on the third. That is no exaggeration.
Shu is ruled by a woman who styles herself an Empress and while she controls much of what happens in and around the metropolis, the vast swaths of land between her city/state and the two others which occupy this continent is settled by a never ending contest among nomadic tribesmen.
The tribesmen make up a nomadic society which is divided into competing tribes of warriors numbering between 50 to 1000 males and perhaps twice that number in women and children. Each tribe will have three times that number in horses -- which are held in almost as great esteem as the women and children.
Generally, a tribe is made up of a group of males with some common familial bond, but the tribesmen also have a method by which proven warriors are sometimes brought into a tribe as Andari, or blood-brothers. Each tribe is made up of two types of members, those that fight and hunt; and those who raise infants and make homes. The former are called the Batari, the later Ordari.
The tribesmen rely on animal husbandry to survive, but also subsist by frequent raids and extortion of the city/states to live above the sustenance level. Because of their ferocity, they are feared across the continent. Their mobility makes them extremely difficult to defeat militarily. In very lean times they have even been known to cross the Pillars of Heaven a.k.a Ramparts and raid the Provinces of Westrun. To be spared this indignity, the Provincial Governors all pay quiet tribute in much the same manner that the Empress and the other two Emperors do.
The tribesmen have a peculiar use of horse and archery that has made them at times seem invincible to larger, more stationary armies. Under particularly gifted Wangs they have been capable of humbling opponents many times their numbers. From time immemorial the tribes have wandered across the Steppes of Eastrun which they call the Grass Sea. A flatland of thick turf and few trees, the Steppes support herding and animal husbandry, but little in the way of permanent agricultural settlements. The noteworthy exceptions are the three major river valleys of which Shu is but one. The others are called, Miyabe and Chiro.
Like the men of Balduren in our own land, the men of the Steppes are said to be born in the saddle. While this is very likely untrue, it is nonetheless an accurate description of their riding prowess and the reliance on the horse that is peculiar to their culture and to their land. The Daizu drink the milk of the mares and eat the meat of the animal. They burn its dung for cookfires, use its hair and sinew for bowstrings, and harvest its skin for their clothing and shelter. The saying, "A man without a horse is like a bird without wings," is a famous proverb among the barbarian.
The tribesmen do not ride in saddles, but upon thick blankets. It is the mark of a warrior to remain astride a mount and those that are unable due to injury or illness are considered a liability to the whole tribe. It is not uncommon for a warrior to keep two or three mounts for his personal use, riding one until it is tired and swapping out a fresh mount tethered to his first for that purpose. In this way, they are able to cover long distances, sometimes as much as 100 or 125 miles in a single day's ride.
Riding is everything to this people. A tribesman is expected to remain in the Batari, raiding and going to war until his 60th Summer. Beyond that, he can remain among the Ordari as an honored veteran until he is unable to sit astride a horse, hunt for the tribe, or able to see to his own care. When his infirmity reaches that point, he will be left behind as the tribe moves on. His body will become meat for the wolves and other creatures of the plains.
Widows are highly honored among the Daizu. In the Fall following the death of their husband, they will be matched with a young male of their choosing who will be joining the Batari next spring. The warrior to be support her and her children and forego a new wife until she has passed. Given the warrior culture of the Daizu, it is not unusual for a woman of the Ordari to have two and three husbands in a life time.
As for their religious beleifs, the tribes seem to have little. There is a wonderful treatise on this matter I found in the library of Old Cambris. I recommend it highly. The Four Winds of Eastrun was my first foray into this land.
The tribesmen live in tents of horsehide called gerg. The gerg are round and thick, excellent for warding off rain and wind. Considered cool in the Summer and warm in the Winter. As many as two dozen people will sometimes occupy a single gerg. Livestock is always left to the elements.
The women and horses of the nomads are considered non-combatants and may be taken as spoils of war, but it is considered a grave affront to Heaven to kill either unnecessarily. So assiduously are these strictures followed, that the women and spare horses of a tribe are often left unguarded while the Batari goes hunting or on a raid. This does result in them sometimes being carried off, but as they are given a place within their new tribes they may even sometimes cooperate with their captors to better their position in life. On the other hand, men are seldom made captives. They are often put to the sword unless they have shown themselves worthy of adoption into the tribe.
I recall that you expressed some interest in the livestock of Eastrun. Outside of the cities, there is none, save that of the horse. The Steppe horse is much shorter than those steeds of Westrun. Standing about 12 to 13 hands, it is a short-legged creature with a large head and a great shaggy coat. This breed of horse is never shoed, nor fed, but always forced to graze on its own. As a consequence they are a hardy breed that need little in terms of care and upkeep.
The other beast which still provides meat and fur is greatly diminished in all but the Northern extremes of the land. The so-called Margon is a giant four-legged beast with a great trunk and massive horns. Shaggy as the horses and possessed of some intelligence, these beasts travel in long migrations from one end of the continent to the other, often Summering above the ice shelf and only coming down on the plains in the cool of the Winter. Every hunter dreams of being in on the kill of a Margon and considers it a life goal, but once a kill is made, the tribes generally consider it a taboo to follow the herd. The entirety of the animal will be consumed, its various parts will be dispersed among the needy of the tribe with the horns being turned into bows and blades for particular heroes and their respected Wangs.
Despite the differences between the city dwellers and the barbarians, they are of the same racial stock. According to the city dwellers, they are the offspring of their mightiest Daizu warlord -- a man born of the gods. Wang Jen Shu united all of the tribes under a single banner and proclaimed himself Emperor of All Eastrun. But his name is unknown, as far as I have been able to determine, among the tribesmen. The Daizu I have spoken to have no history beyond two or three of their own generations. They are nonetheless entertained by the notion that one of their numbers sired the so-called civilized men.
As for the civilized Eastruner, their city/states are said to be named for Jen Shu's three favorite concubines. They were settled in the river valleys now called Shu, Miyabe and Chiro and around these rich agricultural prizes the great civilizations of Eastrun took strong root. The division between nomadic Eastrun and civilized Eastrun has been pronounced every since, with the city dwellers referring to their counterparts as Daizu -- the Barbarians. The Daizu referring to the city dwellers as the Nansow... the Feeble Men.
There is more I have to share, but it will await my return. As it is the supplies of paper are scarce and very expensive. I traded a good mare for this piece of parchment and another for its safe passage to the Provinces, where I hope it will make its way to your shipping interests. I will write again when I am able.
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