Roleplay > War and Conflict

The War of Wool

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DaveIronside:

To:- Sultan Yahya IV

I am grateful to the generous people of Waddan for their gifts to Prince  Aali Akakois and hope that in the New Year myself and our expanding family can visit Waddan in person.

In regards to your situation regarding aerial photography you can expect four of our F-21 to arrive in the next 48 hours. They will be carrying aerial reconnaissance and electronic monitoring equipment and will fly sorties as directed by your military, they will not however carry weaponry in your nation.

We hope this helps you solve the issues that your currently face.

Best Regards

King Heydar

Wadden:
With the arrival of the Seleucid fighters and their mission completed the Sultan was now fully aware of the situation going on around the area of Murqquab. The images returned showed members of the Anazzah tribe spooling long lengths of wire across the desert and in particular around the watering hole close by. What mainly concerned the Sultan however was about 5km east of the settlement. There was a good patch of harsh grassland, it wasn't much to look at but it would provide enough sustinance for a herd of animals for at least a week and according the the rules of the nomadic routes it was land that should in just a few days be handed over to the Nammir ibn Qasit tribe. The problem was the Anazzah tribe had established an outpost there with some kind of ditch system for defence and a string of wire around it.

"The Anazzah are not sharing the land as directed. We can see that they have no intention of leaving and if that happens then either we'll see violence or if the Nammir ibn Qasit don't fight for the land they'll struggle to support their livestock. We must make sure the Anazzah respect the law otherwise we'll see a cascade effect, the Nammir ibn Qasit will begin to horde the land, then the tribe they stop and so on. It would create chaos."

"Hmmm" The Sultan mumbled, "We shall give everyone a chance to cool their heads." The Sultan motioned for a middle aged man to approach the table he was sat around with his advisers. "Take down what I say." He announced.

"Of course My Lord." The man sat on a cushion and pulled a small desk like platform over his knees while he readied his paper and pen. "Whenever you are ready My Lord." He held the pen quivering over the paper.

"Be it ordered that every tribe must by the height of the sun on the 8th day of November be encamped in either its tribal towns or on the land allocated to it by the Book of Tribes. Any tribe failing to be encamped shall be escorted to either their nearest tribal town or the land allocated by the Book of Tribes by the Sultan's Armed Forces. Any tribes resisting this escort or preventing its good ordered progress shall be arrested by the military and face justice at the court of the Sultan. The military will use whatever means they see fit to remove obsticles to this command. We demand all tribes comply with this decree."

The scribe finished writing and read the note back to the Sultan who simply nodded that he was satisfied with it. "Have every tribe informed by the usual messengers. Have the military placed on standby."

Wadden:
OOC - Some parts agreed with Dave.

The time to comply with the Sultan's Land Decree had now come and gone meaning that every single Waddanite must either be in the odd scattered villages and small towns that belonged to each tribe or alternatively be on land assigned to them by the Book of Tribes. Across the nation members of the armed forces were checking people were complying with the Book of Tribes a document held as practically sacred by the Waddanites because it allocated a rota of land use to every tribe to every usable piece of pasture land. It was a system that had held the nation in good shape since the tribes had agreed to unify into a single nation. Now all that was needed was the reports from those in the field as to whether the tribes had listened to their Sultan.

The Sultan was now sat in a large dining room in the rather unimposing palace. A variety of maps were spread across the table with the sultan sat on his favourite chair at the centre point. Around him members of his family and the military were looking over various reports and taking messages from aides coming in and out of the room. Each time someone did a flag was placed on the maps and soon over the hours more and more were placed and the map was becoming dominated by green flags each representing a complying tribe or settlement. The Sultan was beginning to get drowsey and it was only when a young officer appeared and placed a red flag on the map followed by a small wooden block with a number one painted on it. "Explain" The Sultan sat upright his interest grasped.

"Your Majesty" the officer bowed, "The Anazzah are occupying an oasis close to Murqquab, it should currently be avaliable to the Marar tribe."

"What has happened to the Marar?" The Sultan was concerned as the Marar tribe was the smallest in the nation and if the census was correct it was only 500 people and therefore highly unlikely to be able to protect themselves. If the Anazzah were denying them the use of the land then there was little the small tribe could do.

"Thankfully Your Majesty Chief Zahir Khoroushi of the Naqbiyin has the rights to the oasis that the Marar should have left in order to move to Murqquab and has granted them permission to share their land for now." The Sultan knew the tribes rather well and for the last few months he knew that Chief Khoroushi had been trying to persuade the Chief of the Marar to marry his daughter to his own grandson. Naturally by being so gratious as to not put the Marar at risk he would no doubt gain favour for the arrangement. "We're planning an ultimatum to be sent to the Anazzah." The officer added.

"Liutenenat" the Sultan sighed "I have two tasks for you. The first is I wish you to go down to the stables, select a nice young foal and have it presented to Chief Khoroushi, a man who would share his water and grass in a time of danger is a man I respect. The second task is for you to have our air force strike those on the land the Marar should occupy. There is no need for a warning. I gave clear instructions that all must comply. How would I look if I know did nothing when someone so blatantly defies me." The young officer was a little shocked but knew once the Sultan had spoken it was often a mistake to question him.

"Yes. Your Majesty." The officer saluted and made his way to pass on the orders.


Over at the airbase around 20km North of the capital the duty aircrew were a little surprised at what was happening today. Their A-6 Haboob aircraft were being loaded with live munitions. The aircraft wouldn't be flying alone either. Following the issues with the camera equipment the Sultan had requested the Seleucid aircraft to help on the sortie. When it came time to go the Waddanite duo of aircraft went first with a single Seleucid F-21. As they closed on the target the F-21 however went ahead and the pilot used the more sophisticated sensors and visioning equipment to plot the various positions of people clearly carrying weapons. The pilot relayed that information to the following Haboob aircraft who launched a pair of bombs towards their target. They exploded and soon after the F-21 witnessed people running for the open desert as the trio of aircraft made several passes but fired no other weaponary confident that the Sultan's message had been passed.


It was late afternoon by the time the shocked and battered survivors of the air-strike made their way into Murqquab. As they arrived they saw a helicopter and a group of soldiers holding several members of the village at gunpoint. Chief Jamal al-Din Zaman was being held between two camoflauge wearing men. "Chief you have defied the decree of the Sultan. In his mercy he has granted you permission to live." A Major spoke reading from a document. "For the next five years you shall pay a tribute of five head of cattle, four goat and ten sheep to the Sultan and each of his two oldest sons. In addition your youngest daughter shall reside with the Sultan as his daughter for the next 10 years or until she reaches the age of 20." The young girl was being held under the grasp of two men dragging her towards the helicopter.

"Please, don't take my girl" The Chief begged but it was pointless. Had this been any other nation the Chief would likely be imprisoned for his action but as Waddan had no real prison system this was the next best thing. Holding the family of Chief's "Hostage" was one way of ensuring loyalty and happened fairly often infact any time the Sultan left the nation every tribe was expected to send one of their daughters to the capital to be held hostage until the Sultan returned safe. While it was a harsh term, hostage, the individual was not harmed nor really imprisoned.  The Sultan would protect the girl, would as he had promised deal with her as his own daughter and infact she would probably know a better standard of life than with her tribe. The problem was in that time she would have no contact with her father or anyone else from the tribe. It was another long term strategy to gain loyalty. The girl would hopefully learn to love the Sultan and would take the new devotion and loyalty to him back to the tribe. Once the girl was secure in the helicopter it headed back to the capital leaving the Chief devestated that his family was split and his plan to make his tribe stronger in tatters.

Wadden:
Zaahira had spent the last few days sat at the window overlooking the old city walls and weeping. She tried to imagine what things where happening back home, had the tribe moved on or was it still in the town of Murqquab. She knew in the back of her mind that if her father, Chief Jamal al-Din Zaman, didn't do as the Sultan asked that she would be killed but such things hadn't happened in over a 100 years. She didn't know though when anyone from her tribe would see her again even her own family. She was about to start crying again when a knock on her door startled her and the door swung open. A young woman of about 18 was stood there. The robes she wore were pretty and so Zaahira thought that this must be someone important.

"Hello Zaahira" the young woman greeted her. "My name is Amaal, I am the Sultan's daughter." In truth she was his illegitimate daughter but her father had always treated her well and granted her a noble title despite the fact that her mother was just a wool spinner in the Sultan's household. "I have a friend who wants to meet you." Without entering the room Amaal sat down in the door way and slid a wicker basket in front of her and motioned for Zaahira to sit opposite. Very carefully Amaal lifted the lid and a fient "meow" could be heard as the tiny white kitten came into view. Amaal carefully extracted the kitten and handed him over to the young girl. "Now you have to take good care of him ok." Amaal smiled as she watched Zaahira carefully put the kitten onto her lap and begin petting him.

"I will. Thank you" the 10 year old girl was already in love with the creature who was beginning to use her as a climbing frame. "What's his name?" She asked as she giggled from the cat trying to find a way inside her robes.

"That's for you to work out" Amaal reached to her side and picked up a wooden box bringing it into the room and placing it on the table. "Here is everything he'll need" she stood watching the pair of new friends get to know each other.

"I'll call him Sadiq" Zaahira announced selecting the word for "Friend" as the kittens new name. The fient purr of contentment from him seemed like he approved. Cats had always been part of the tribes, not in a religious manner as the people of Clysperis held them but from a rather more practical view point. They kept away the mice and scorpions that could be a menace in the nomadic desert society the Waddanites lived in and practically every family had a cat or two and usually this was the responsibility of the girls to look after. "Thank you"

"You are welcome" Amaal prepared to leave. "I'll come and say hello to you and Sadiq in the morning. Try and get some sleep" and with that the Sultan's daughter was gone pleased that in some way she'd helped the young girl feel a little less afraid of her new life here in the Palace.


450km North of the capital Chief Jamal al-Din Zaman was sat up in his half ruined home in Murqquab. It had been a disasterous few weeks for the Anazzah tribe. First they'd been attacked by some unknown tribe, then they had defied the Sultan hoping to bring him to negotiate some kind of agreement with them. That move had backfired spectacularly and they had felt the wrath of the Air Force further bloodying the tribe. Such was Jamal's self pity that he hardly noticed his cousin Fazal enter the home. Locks were unheard of in Murqquab and even when three herdsman of the tribe walked in he hardly moved. The platform on which his wife and three remaining children slept saw some moving as the sound awoke them. "Cousin" Fazal took a seat opposite the chief. "I am sorry but you have ruined the tribe, you have angered the Sultan and left us in ruin. I can not allow that" Jamal did not move as his cousin fired a single bullet into his temple and didn't hear the shots that finished off his wife and children. The sound of gunfire had alerted the tribe that the grim business was done. Earlier in the day Fazal had consulted with the tribal elders in secret and they agreed that there was no way they could get back into the Sultan's good graces with Jamal at the helm and Fazal was the only heir to the chiefdom if the rest of Jamal's family were dead.

Outside Fazal took to the settlements walled well to address the crowd. "We have done what had to be done. All of us have had family killed under Jamal's leadership. He has turned the Sultan against us and brought the wrath of the Air Force upon us. No way can we fight back, no way can we stand against the Sultan's men. We must seek reconciliation and that means we must now follow me. I promise you I will do all I can to bring the tribe back to prosperity." There was no applause everyone knew what Fazal had done was needed but they were not happy about it. "Dispatch our message." Fazal addressed the herdsman that had helped him carry out the grim business.


It took only 25km of riding for the tribes rider to find a military patrol and they helped conduct him speedily to the capital where soon he found himself before the Sultan who was sat in his large wooden chair attired in blue robes. "Your Majesty" the man knelt before the Sultan and placed a wicker basket between them. "I have come on behalf of the Anazzah tribes new Chief, Fazal al-Din Zaman . We wish to show our loyalty and we wish to show you that we have already taken steps to prove ourselves." He removed the lid of the basket and allowed the Sultan to look inside. "We bring you the head of the traitor Jamal as proof we shall follow our Sultan" The man awaited the warm response of the old Sultan but instead found a foot connecting with his face cutting his lip and nose. He fell backwards onto the floor just in time to catch another kick this time in the testicles leaving him a bleeding weeping mess. Two of the Sultan's guards had begun to move forward but a simple hand gesture from their leader stopped them.

"You bring such a thing to my house. How much have I offended you?" the Sultan replaced the lid on the basket. "How the Anazzah determine the leadership of their tribe is of no concern of mine. That is your right. To bring the gory mess of your savagery to my home is an insult." The Sultan reached under his robe and fished two gold sovereign coins out. The items were usually reserved for rewarding individuals for their good work for the Sultan or on special occasions. "Take one for your journey. The other is for your new chief." It was tradition that a new Chief was presented with such a coin as a gift by the Sultan and tradition was important to him. "Now I suspect you have also come to ask me to execute Zaahira." The Sultan returned to his throne and watched as the man nodded. "Hmmm. Tell Chief Fazal al-Din Zaman that the Sultan keeps his word. I promised that Zaahira would be safe with me so long as her father did not attack me. Now unless ghosts can attack me that is now not going to happen. Zaahira therefore will be my daughter until she reaches the age of 20 at which point she may return to your tribe and then whoever is Chief must determine what shall befall her. Now get out of my sight." The Sultan waited for the man to limp out before summoning a Priestess to deal with the head. "Call my son Mahfuz." The Sultan instructed his Chamberlain while he sat waiting patiently.

His bastard son Mahfuz soon arrived. He was a man in a similar ilke to Lady Amaal, his mother was a cook in the Palace that the Sultan had taken a liking to 32 years ago and now headed a contingent of the Sultan's security and occasionally did some of the dirtier work required by the Sultan. "My son" The Sultan embraced Mahfuz with genuine warmth. "I need you to begin making a plan to remove Zaahira from our lands. I wish her somewhere safe, somewhere that should any rouge member of the Anazzah take it upon themselves to do her harm they will find it difficult. I made a promise she would be safe until her 20th birthday in my care and I shall honour that."

Mahfuz had heard what had happened with the messenger from the Anazzah and had actually expected the call to be asking him to execute the girl. He had thought that was out of character for his father but the last few weeks had been crazy and so he hadn't ruled out anything. He was though happy that this was his task and not having to kill a child. "Father I shall see to it. Until then I'll place some of my men at her door at all times."

"My son I never doubt you" The Sultan kissed his son on the forehead. "These are strange days we're experiencing and I know you'll get things done." His son was proud of having his father's confidence and so simply bowed and headed off to see to the security of Zaahira.

Wadden:
The day had finally come for young Aminah. It had been only 9 months since the meeting with the Waddanites and King Heydar. In that time she had been studying the Anahthaist faith carefully, developing her knowledge of the Goddess and her rituals all in an effort to be ready for what was to come. As with every Priestess she now had need to develop her skills working in the community which she was to serve and for little Aminah that meant the desert of Waddan. She would not be coming alone though as the High Priestess, Raniya Attar, had assigned two other girls to accompany her. Both of these girls were more experienced than Aminah but like her were not yet fully qualified Priestesses. They would all head out with the Banu Lakhm tribe and live among them while helping attend to their spiritual needs. The Banu Lakhm were an anomoly in Waddan, their 80,000 or so members were the only people with Anahitaism as their faith and finding an actual Seleucid trained Priestess was a rarity. The tribe had been preparing for their arrival for several weeks now. A new tent had been sewn together by the women of the tribe, it was pale blue to mimic the waters for which Anahitaism devoted their faith towards and fine white embroidary of the Goddesses name decorated it. The tent would be the home of the three young women and the interior would be furnished with as much luxury as the tribe could muster, some large hammocks, rugs and most importantly the tribes ritual table. The old lady who had served as the Priestess for the tribe for 20 years was happy that it would seem there was now someone willing to take over her duties. She herself had learned the ways of the faith off her predecessor and with Chief Tarik Karimi's daughter Arij now training in Seleucid to be a Preistess herself the old woman could look forward to a retirement of sorts.

The trio had been loaned an aircraft from the Seleucid government and were feeling rather nervous as Chief Tarik greeted them at the nations new airport. Tarik touched the feet of  Aminah who would one day become the Priestess of his people and therefore the highest ranking Priestess in Waddan. Even the King of Royal Seleucid showed such respect to his nations High Priestess but the gesture was new to Aminah who was unsure what to do and found herself giggling nervously. "Welcome to Waddan" The Chief had now stood up and embraced each of the three girls. "Our tribe is excited to have you with us." Tarik felt out of place at the airport, large metal tubes whizzing through the sky was not normal and he was much happier when the group found itself on the road out in a rather beaten up Toyota Hi-Lux convoy. The vehicles were not commonly used as the tribe much preferred their camals and horses but the journey of some 200km from the capital would have taken several days otherwise. The tribe had been holed up in Germa, a small sandstone village that served as the Banu Lakhm's only fixed settlement. During the run up to markets and festivals the village would be surrounded by a ring of tents as everyone came to barter, trade and party but following the Land Decree of the Sultan many had opted to take shelter and so as the vehicles came down the road they were forced to drive through a tight network of tents of various colours. The sound of a motor vehicle brought many outside their tents to witness the arrival. Aminah was shocked for two reasons, the first was the fact that so many of the tribe bowed to her as the vehicle passed and the second was the smell. With hundreds if not thousands of sheep, goats and camals penned up on the rough dry grasslands their stink filled the air. To the Waddanites this was so familiar it was no longer registering in their nasal receptors but to the Seleucids it would take some getting used to. Several large groups began following the convoy as it neared the centre of the mass of tents and by the time they had pulled up outside the circle of buildings and the newly made pale blue tent the sound of the tribe welcoming the girls was deafening.

"Priestess.....Priestess" a voice stood out to Aminah who was expecting to see the white robed shape of someone looking like they would back home. It took her a while to realise the voice was calling to her and as she turned a young woman, around 20 years of age and heavily pregnant was desperatly calling to her. "My Priestess" the woman sank to her knees on the sand and touched Aminah's feet. The Seleucid youngster began to protest but the woman was desperate to speak. "Please...Please...I beg you. I carry my husband's child. He has six daughters but no sons. He is getting on in years and this may be his last child, I beg you bless me to give him a son." Aminah looked to the other two girls for advice but both simply shrugged, this was not something they'd been prepared for. Aminah took a deep breath and helped the woman to stand worried that in her frantic state she may just burst here and now.

"What is your name?" Aminah asked and the pregnant woman told her, "Well Rakan" Aminah kissed her on each cheek. "The Goddess knows best. She will give you what she needs to give you. While your heart desires a son the Goddess will have a plan for your child." She had studied the Waddan tribes quiet a bit before coming, "I already see that the child is blessed. To be born into the Banu Lakhm and is to be born into a tribe that shows love, to its members, its guests and most importantly to the Goddess. I will pray for you to have a happy healthy child and to make the tribe stronger." There would be nothing worse than promising a son and then her blessing not producing one when Rakan finally gave birth, it would undermine her connection to the Goddess but it seemed the tribe and Rakan were happy with her words. "But please" Aminah now addressed the crowd. "I am no Priestess yet. I am here to learn about you, serve you and if you allow it be part of your tribe."

"Of course we allow it." the Chief said loudly with a cheery voice. "All of our faith our members of our tribe.....they just don't realise it yet." the tribe who had gathered laughed and cheered as people were eager to welcome the girls. Suddenly Aminah felt someone grab her right hand then her left hand.

"Priestess come quick" a little girl was pulling on her along with her friend, "Come on" they seemed insistant and so Aminah followed, "We helped make this for you." They proudly swept their arms at the tent, "Well, we made the picture" the girls must have been six or seven and pointed to an image of a water jug on the door.

"Its beautiful" Aminah kissed each girl on the forehead, "You are very kind" the two girls seemed pleased and hurried off to their beaming parents who were part of the crowd. The Chief spoke to the tribe for a while as his three wives helped the new arrivals settle into their new home. For tonight the trio would be able to gather their strength after their long journey from their homeland.


Two days later the tribe was on the move, tents were dropped, animals gathered and goodbyes said. The tribe would split up into numerous smaller groups and head off across the sands utilising their land rights to graze their animals on the odd islands of grass that sprang out of the sand sea that formed the majority of Waddan. Aminah was going to stay in Germa for several more days as she learned the stories of the tribe from their current unqualified Priestess. It was therefore up to her two travelling companions to clamber into the saddle of a horse, as naturally they would be treated as high ranking members of the tribe, and head out into the desert. Chief Karimi had allocated them to his brothers group as having them with him would perhaps be seen as playing favourites and as the group headed out into the desert he stood waving them off. After just a few hours of riding the pair of Seleucid girls found their back and legs ached from the riding but did their best to not complain as the tribe seemed so comfortable in their own saddles on the backs of camals and horses. They prayed that they wouldn't be going far but around six hours later their hell was over. They crested a dune and discovered an oasis where seemingly against all odds a lush green island had sprung from the endless yellow. The problem was a group of men with motor vehicles were also there. Chief Karimi's brother seemed concerned and told the tribe to hold its ground as he and two others rode down to the oasis. From where they were waiting the tribe could see very little until the sound of a gunshot rang out, followed by several more. There was a scream from within the tribe as suddenly the air around them filled with the sound of machine gun fire whizzing past. Many bullets struck home ripping the tribe apart as the blood of human, goat, sheep and horse began to flow down the sand. Several of the vehicles hurtled towards them and men jumped off the back each armed with rifles and began gunning down everything that moved including the first of the Seleucid girls. The slaughter took only ten minutes and the devestation was total, not a single member of the party was permitted to survive as black robed men walked between the wounded exeucting them with a single cut across the throat. It was when they found the unconcious and heavily bleeding Seleucid girl that they bothered to carry her to the centre of the oasis and then there on the green grass cut her throat allowing her blood to wash over the vegetation. A few palm trees dotted the edges and a rope was tied around her ankles and used to string her up further allowing her blood to drain. She was stripped naked and then one of the men in black took his knife and carved symbols into her back. The message to a foreigner wouldn't be anything more than a simple series of cuts but to a Waddanite it was clear. "Foreigners Leave Our Water Alone." Once his bloody work was done the man clambered into the flatbed of one of the motor vehicles. "Riders of the Sands. These Banu are weak, they and the other unholy tribes shall be gutted, they shall be cut from the flesh of our nation. The Sultan had a chance with his Land Decree to end them but he failed instead being happy that our tribes fought each other, he bombed loyal tribesman while leaving Muslim, Manist and Anahitaist witches to wander the sands. He courts foreigners and he brings them gladly to our homes. We must oppose him, we must end his reign. With your support I shall form a new tribe, the tribe of the One Waddan, the tribe under the Riders of the Sand and we shall make this land a paradise." The group cheered and mounting their vehicles checked maps to find the location of where they suspected other members of the Banu Lakhm were heading.

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