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Yun Aralaki, Capital of Coanchua, Present Day
2300

"Storming of the Capitol Building"

Yun Aralaki was rife with the spirit of desperate rebellion, as people clamoured and hollered in front of the National Capitol Building, throwing harmful objects like glass bottles and rocks at the folding line of riot police who retreated up the steps. Several soldiers stood sentry, but did not fire as they were overwhelmed, stripped and beaten by the vindictive mob. Many of the crowd held up flags, flying them proudly while touting hot-blooded nationalism. The flags which signified the revolution was white, with a black and red stylized marigold flower on it. “Ka’gno liike!” the crowd chanted, arriving in frantic mass at the capitol double doors.

The mob entered, marauding every room they conquered with an internal Kaiop flame. Pillaging hit with like a whiplash to the psyche of the nation. Some statesmen desperately clamoured to get away, only to be enveloped in the sea of hatred. The intricately and beautifully decorated halls of the building were now torn down and spit on, ancient monuments stolen and destroyed. The roaring group of hundreds finally reached the multiple doors to the main legislative chamber, trying to pull down the various barricades. Many had hunting rifles and shotguns, attempting to shoot the doors open.

On the other side soldiers took what cover they could in the deeply entrenched positions around the various seats. All young men and women, conflicted on their loyalties and task at hand. Behind them were various statespeople, cowering without their own means to defend themselves. At last their anxiety was crippled when the mob broke through all the chamber corridors almost simultaneously, in a haze of confusion and regret the soldiers didn't fire but either retreated or were immediately swarmed, each attempting to surrender. One soldier begging for his life, before being put down by a Coanchuan with a hunting rifle. They continued to beat and murder all the statesmen in the chamber, carrying a few off for further torture. Most of the disorganized mob continued pillaging in their rage, taking what they saw of any value and leaving swiftly.

By the end of the storming, the national building was left in disarray, with more than half of the Coanchuan Parliament killed or wounded. Rioting and burning would continue into the day, as the discontent Coanchuans would latch into the extreme Free Coanchuan Revolutionary Movement, carrying out their means of achieving its goal. Really, it was simply anarchy, the consequence of circumstance and reprised rebellion. Yun Aralaki was on fire and the revolution was in a surprising full swing.

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(intro post, including the FMN article, talk to me OOCly those who have applied to put something together. General rule is that neighbors closest to me who have applied get posting seniority over those farthest away, due to their geopolitical impact, it just means follow what they post, and you should base around that)

Oqanteɬ(oh-QAHN-tehɬ) is a religious philosophy and way of life that is profoundly held sacrosanct in Ahkabnil. In it’s early fruition the religion was considered a peasant belief system, one that the lower classes were susceptible to, as it was shamanistic and superstitiously ritual. It would develop as a central guide to most people’s livelihoods, for community and comfort. It was during the collapse of the Quywe Empire, that Oqantel rose to represent the people’s will and beliefs against the perceived cold and calculating imperial class that ruled over them. Shaman’s and other local spiritual guides became paramount figures, rising to become priest, prophets, monks and protectors. Formulating a central Temple that would unite Ahkabnil under a Theocratic Confederation in a time of chaos. The Temple of Oqan would rebuild the country with a strict foundation, based upon guiding Oqanist principles that would overhaul society.

The beginning of Oqantel can be traced back to the 8th century, when before the rise of the Quywe Empire, Lord Oqan of the ancient City-State Kwaltenche ascended in prominence as a just leader, philosopher, warrior and poet, gathering a large following of common people and wise men who would form an order based on his teachings. Lord Oqan was also a religious skeptic for his time in regards to human sacrifice and other extreme rituals. His teachings were one of many during the time, deriving from commonly held spiritual beliefs, but Lord Oqan’s grand teaching’s resonated across the land more profoundly through his actions as a conqueror, as well as his repugnance for harsh rituals like mass sacrificing. However, he still believed in it to some degree, only employing ritual sacrifice for worthy war captives and nobles.

Oqan would go on to form a monk order that would rule over his domain, it would eventually die off with him when he sacrifice himself during a full-moon under the command of Yaotenmel, after being overrun by enemies. It is believed that when Oqan committed suicide, as commanded by Yaotenmel and pressed into doing so by the incurred circumstances, that his spirit became the  new Yaotenmel. In fact Oqan isn’t the real name of the historical Lord in which the legend is based on, it is Ugwekekochnuyi, however he is commonly referred as Oqan in the context of religious text, because it means A Good Death, referencing Ugwekekochnuyi’s finale sacrifice. The -teɬ as the end of Oqan is an ancient augmented word meaning ‘of people’ or ‘for people’ depending on the context. Therefore, Oqantel roughly means A Good Death for the People.

Oqantel was a prominent religion in Ahkabnil, full of epic stories and legends, with an emphasis on spiritual superstition. Lord Oqan had taught about spiritual balance, which the most pragmatic Priest and Lords took as superstition. His philosophy would greatly influence the Quywe Empire, however ‘Oqan’ was, up until the 19th century, considered a mere religious faction in the grand scheme of the Empire. It was mostly accessible to the lower classes, as the Order of Oqantell had worked at a grassroots level among them, as monks and caregivers. The 19th century is remarked as the ‘Great Awakening’ and historically, when the divide between the people and imperial nobles of the Quywe Empire became apparent through religious dissent. Nobles were also seen as too ‘Ardianized’ as a negative view of the Ardian Empire and it’s influences grew. Oqantel soon came to represent a collective will of the common man and sovereignty, the events leading up the Great War formalized the Temple of Oqan in the midst of the Empire’s decline.

The Temple of Oqan became the foundation of Ahkabnil and would spread formal conventions of the religion. Today, Oqantel has millions of followers, with the Temple held in high regard as a moral bastion to the Theocratic Confederation.

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This Historical and Cultural Connections Megathread provides a worldbuilding space for people to interconnect their nation's historically and culturally in ways that make sense. Having fleshed out history and unique cultures, that have seamlessly adapted to eachother provides content that enables more depth and nuance to our fictional little nations, and it gives a ton of historical context to how are nation's are today, providing more Roleplay opportunities in which we can base storylines on. This makes the world more cohesive and gives a clear picture of what RP can be pursued and how things can built/adapted.

To have everyone on the same page, there will be a roughly historical outline following a series of world impacting events.

The Birth of Civilization: where did it take place

Ancient Empires, Kingdoms, People and Migrations: empires and others akin to rome, and the mass of human migrations, this period on Mundus can be more or less considered a more pastoral time.

The rise of Ardia: an Empire which rose and nearly conquered the world at one point, rival empires included the Rus Empire, Quywe and more.

The collapse of Ardia: a world impacting event, made possible  by a series of wars, rebellion and stagnate traditions/lack of technological recognition of the weathering empire.

The Great War/World War: there is only reason to have one world war on Mundus and that's with the crumbling of the Ardian Empire. This is alos a time of collapse for the Quywe, Rus and other empires as revolution and dissent reaches wide. A series of wars fueled by Ethnic tensions, political revolution and economic collapse would spark, known collectively as the Great War or Wars.

Rise of Modern Nation States: Many nations we see today whether they were part of the empires or not finally come to fruition, vying for power, peace and wealth. The invention of nuclear weapons throws the world into cold war of competing blocs, most prevalent being Rodina, amassing a world wide communist revolution.

These pivotal points are a jumping off point to cooperate with others and expand into untouched eras. Remember, no nation lives in a bubble, events and history affects it, in turn this provides sensible modern RP. Cultural connections are important as well, it defines history, such as our version of "westernization" which would likely be "Ardianization" and how our people's interacted and adapted to eachother, language wise, custom wise, ethnically, and so on.

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Southern Ahkabnil
1942

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The tranquil morning was uninterrupted by the beating thunder of war, many of the farmers in the valley had enjoyed it, though most were curious why the distant patter of guns had halted for the morning. The sound peace didn’t last for long that morning however, instead of clapping artillery, it was the low hum of hundreds of aircraft formation flying in the sky, their prop engines echoing through each surface of the rocky valleys. One would look up to find the overwhelming number of planes dance in the sky, asunder with their eloquent maneuvering. Smoke trailed many of the massive four engine bombers, marked with insignia’s of the Ardian Empire, as they fell with a robust crash into the mountainsides. The fight had moved so low to the ground that many crews didn’t have time to jump from the belly’s of their death crates. Many gathered, scared but fascinated, as the air war seemed so far away.

One of the distinct Ahkabnilian aircraft’s engines sputtered with a choking sound, as smoke twirled from one the fighter’s engines. The Ahkabnilian fighters were something you couldn’t miss, ‘Flying Pepen’s’ the locals called them, and the name stuck for a reason, they were almost flat disc and many wondered how such a thing got off the ground even. But they zipped through the sky almost unopposed, with the disadvantage of being a wide target for the enemy. An unfortunate fate befell this particular plane and pilot, which slowly eased closer to ground in an attempt to dive away from the hair ball that was the dogfight in the sky.

It was Teudili Anan at the controls of this fighter, his plane painted with green camouflage that wore various symbols and logograms discreetly, as every other Ahkabnilian fighter was. They were transferred from the Quywe Imperial Airforce to Ahkabnil’s once independence was declared, it was what they all did willingly, as the imperial era on the Horn was coming to screeching end. It had been the remnants of the Imperial Government that had convinced the crumbling Ardian State to invade, and they did so on the terms of vassalage. Teudili was a mere young man at this time, showing the aptitude of a pilot and being thrusted into the cockpit, onto the perpetual meat grinder that was this war. It had proved swell for him up until this point, as he had several bloody decapitated head glyphs painted on his fuselage, indicating six kills.

He had leveled out his pepen shaped aircraft, his right engined still has some fight left but it was going to give out soon, and a bogey was still hot on him. Teudili was treetop level at this point, as enemy machine fire raddled around the cockpit. His hands shoot at the quivering controls, but pure adrenaline kept him on his toes. He was somewhat panicked, and couldn’t get cohesive word out, “H-help me!” he shouted over the intercom, as he rolled and twisted his aircraft in a desperate fight for survival, we knew to keep it straight though, any turn would expose his full aircraft to the brunt on the Ardian’s cannon. He almost wanted to get higher just to bail, as the impending sense of doom was unbearable, he was young and still wanted to live.

Suddenly, before Teudili could perform another spastic roll, machine fire penetrated his cockpit and bounced off the control panel, hitting him in is legs and lower body. His right engine has given out and the left was smoking, the cockpit suddenly went ablaze in fire. Teudili hysterically tried to open the cockpit, but in his panic from the searing pain of fire, it seemed it was jammed. He kicked around, before freezing as he saw hillside rush toward the cockpit. In booming thud and few bounces the aircraft slid like a puck across an open steppe before coming to an abrupt halt when it slammed into a rock formation. The Ardian zipped past at high speed, nearly touching the downed aircraft.

Teudili finally busted the cockpit open, and pulled himself out with the rest of the energy he had left. He murmured in pain, flopping on the ground and attempting to roll in the damp dirt to put out the small flames left on him. He tried to stand up, but he could hardly feel his legs and he toppled over. Cringing in pain, the young pilot dragged himself between the crevices of the jagged, red rock formation which erected in the dramatic steppes. He unholstered his pistol and held it dearly, as he heard distant yelling grow near. A few unidentifiable troops rose from a small patch of trees nearby, but as they grew closer Teudili’s heart sank, they were Ardians. How he hated the pig language he assumed they spoke, and their pale skin. Southerners who did not belong on the Horn. But as they got closer, he lacked the constitution or will to shoot at them, mostly cowardice.

As a soldier approached, with a small grin across his dirt and blood charred face, he pushed the pistol out of Teudili’s hand with the tip of his rifle. He tried to force Teudili to walk, after confiscating his gun, but realized his legs were weak. He spoke in the unknown, unpleasant sounding tongue to Teudili in an aggressive manner, calling his comrades over to help drag his limp body. They seemed to be deliberating something, as the soldier pressed his boot against Teudili’s back to him him on the ground. “Tum denique. I hoc faciam” one spoke, a silence cut through the air. Suddenly Teudili felt the barrel of a rifle press against the back of skull, and he closed his eyes. “Yaotenmel, I am with you.” he whispered to himself.

“Non faciam.” one of them seemingly sighed. “Non possumus accipere eum in dubium.” one of the voices seemed to order.

Teudili was dragged up on one their backs, for reasons he currently didn’t know and taken along with the tired unit of Ardian soldiers. Cowards, Teudili has thought to himself. If he was able, he would kill himself, a necessary sacrifice that would humble him in this situation. Ahkabnilians fought fierecly, and being a prisoner of war was unacceptable, so was accepting any. If it was an Ardian pilot that Ahkabnilian soldiers found, his head would be put on a pike and paraded around the camp, Teudili was disappointed he wouldn’t die in such a way, to say the least.

Just say or yay or nay, i've heard alot of good feedback of people on board with this and some who aren't. I've tried to improve the map by making it more fluid, better looking and larger, its roughly earth sized and not there's an reasonable ratio of sea to land. I've gotten a ton of good feedback in other places as well and I think it deserves to be discussed. In addition, I'd to propose removing the plot based claim system.



As you see I've tried to maintain consistency with the current canon, in particularly EM being the guardian of the Illumic Sea(its not a channel plz) and putting Albion in a more reasonable location(Darfordia is currently equatorial but somehow britain, etc). This is no way final, just a general layout.

Dear Student,

It is our honor to confirm that you have been accepted to Chanal University under our international student exchange program. You will be flown to the capital of Ahkabnil, Chanal, and have room, public transportation and free language courses provided to you for practice. Student interpreters will accompany you on campus.

Note:- Students who have been accepted have shown average conversational proficiency in the Ahlabnilian language. If students applied for this program a year ago, they should have received lessons cooperated between their home university and Chanal. If some are not proficient, they require full lessons as an additional course.

College level education in Ahkabnil is free, provided citizens complete one universal year of public service, this does not apply to students in a foreign exchange program, cost depends on the side of the foreign program. Optional civic service is available however for extra credit and depending on your major, civic service may come in the form of field or intern work. This service provides a variety of opportunities, and will earn a foreign student free tuition and no fees in Ahkabnil, as well as a monthly stipend. This service is ongoing alongside your classes.

By entering this program you have agreed to the terms of the Ahkabnilian education system for one world calendar year.

We look forward to your participation in the coming year.

Director of the Chanal Student Exchange Program,
Tinhe Ahwakon

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Capital Airport was rather sleepy, as usual; Ahkabnil never really experienced profound tourism or international traffic outside of business due to its visitation fees, under the guise of maintaining cultural unification and infrastructural aesthetics. Still, the airport has quite nice with an appropriate and committed staff, and attentive ground crews. The foreign students would be flown in this way, perhaps on different flights, and would wait in the lobby until their escort arrived.

The Capital Airport would perhaps be the only international seeming thing the students would ever see for the rest of the year, as Ahkabnil was about to come into full view…

(just intro your characters and mingle in the main airport lobby, dont have keyboard atm so sorry for short post)

The Chanal II broke through the skies with a disruptive boom, slowing down as the Austreosian coast came into view below. She was the second plane in the fleet of transport vehicles available to the Speakership of Ahkabnil, a supersonic business jet, only carrying a mere 14 passengers but enough for circumstances such as this. Chanal II would be diving from the skies into the recovering warzone that was Austreos, a country whose face was littered with the scars of war. Ofcourse, the Ahkabnilian Condor didn’t swoop down until the fighting was over, observing the players and plotting future moves carefully.

As Osovo International came into view, so did its burning city, emerging from curtain of dark, choking dust, with its deprived and venerable towers, stained grey from the shadow of the gloomy, smoke filled skies. Hues of orange and yellow dance in the fog, indicating distant fires that the smoke bellowed from. Ambassador Kutaneh glared out the window with his usual, expressionless face. He was expecting this, but aide and protege Wasyiel wasn’t, though he had been brief. “Isn’t it safe?” he said with an anxious whisper.

Kutaneh smiled, as he could hear the nervous lump in Wasyiel’s voice, “Perhaps. Diplomacy is never a clean matter, you should get use to this.” he advised, reverting his eyes back down to his tablet, scrolling through diplomatic briefs. “You wanted field work, this is it, no more petty embassy bookkeeping.”

Kutaneh thought of Wasyiel as a son, after all these years. He also knew the High Circle wanted Wasyiel out, his family wasn’t liked and percieved as radical, even though Wasyiel wasn’t like them they couldn’t see the forest for the trees. The man was trying to clear his tarnished name within the Temple, and Kutaneh understood that as he was in the same position, coming from a political line of jokes and failed statesmen.

Chanal II was making its slow and steady approach to the torn runway of Osovo international. Attempting to touch down gently upon the cracked runway. The plane shook slightly and the pilots struggled with the waning rudder. Finally Chanal II had come to the slow, yet bumpy halt, at this point even Kutaneh’s heat was beating out of chest, he had never liked flying but didn’t let it show. “It seems out greeting party is here.” Wasyiel said, observing the waiting party on the tarmac. “This place is a hellhole.” he sighed, as the cabin door slowly curled open.

“Indeed.” Kutaneh agreed, beginning to walk down to greet the welcoming party, though it was not so warm...