Skip to main content

[FICTION] The History of Naxos: Early Empire Rise & Fall

     With the basic mold of Naxos established, successive Tyrants went to great lengths to attempt to build on the successes of their forbearers; the Roads of Cassander that linked the towns and villages of the Island of Naxos to the great city and standardized sea routes; the Dromoi Nerou of Demetrios, that solved drinking water for the City of Naxos.

    The biggest act came under Tyrant Antigonos, who ordered the first great war fleets north to Thrace, where once the mythical homeland of their people was said to lay. Under the pretense of protecting and expanding trade, the Naxians began seizing ports and establishing them as colonies. When other nearby Thracian Kingdoms retaliated, Naxian forces would attack, and then annex their territories. With this great expansion of lands, the Naxian population exploded, and many Thracians who were conquered were assimilated by either relocation, or conscription. Over time, and as their fleets and armies expanded, the eye of Naxos turned to the West, famous for its rolling green hills and dense lush forests.

    They overran those who lived on the Long Shore, engaging is many of the same tactics that worked well in Thrace. However, they stalled at the mighty Sea Wall Mountains by combined armies of elves, dwarves, and a number of free kingdoms that found refuge across the mountains. Treaties were signed, and Naxos was given free reign to colonize the whole of the Long Shore, and never again attempt to cross the Sea Wall. For their part, those beyond would pay a tribute to Naxos.

    It was under the reign of Tyrant Lycaon II that the Old Empire would reach its zenith and territorial maximum; to the far north of Thrace, they hit the borders of Great Azraq, and would never pass the immense fortifications there. To the west, the legions of Naxos would march the whole of the Long Shore, until they found the Merifolc, ferocious seafaring dwarves, to the far south and west, who repelled any and all invasions by Naxians with fearsome ironclad ships and mighty siege weapons.

    It was said that during this time that one could cross the whole of Naxian territory, and never fear the accosting of bandits, raiders, or pirates. Naxian language and culture was known the world over. The regional rulers, the Despots, had wealth and power like that of kings of other nations, and those rulers who willingly submitted knew great rewards and protection. The only two powers that could match them were thousands of miles away from their homelands.

    The decadence within Naxos proper were also at their height; great festivals of heroes, gods, and traditions were said to be held monthly.

    After the death of Lycaon III, the Naxian Empire entered a state of stagnation, and then decline. A series of droughts wracked Thrace, which were then hit by the Wrath of Gi; an enormous earthquake the tossed entire cities in the east of Thrace into the sea. It is thought that millions starved in this time, and the Naxian armies and fleets were stretched thin. So much turmoil engulfed the land, that Tyrant Pyrhhos personally went to Thrace to oversee restoration, only to be bedridden and eventually killed by by an unknown disease.

    The unexpected death of a Tyrant sent the Empire into chaos. Pyrhhos died without naming an heir, and the Despots were fractured on who to support. Civil war tore apart the islands of Naxos, and the colonies were abandoned to their own fates. Thrace splits apart, devolving into feuding city-states, and the Western Vassals and Despots rebelled en masse, with the colonial Despots naming their own domains, and the tributes from beyond the Sea Wall ceased.

    In Naxos, entire family lines of noble families were killed off in the conflict, and many of the Line of Poleon were murdered. This conflict would last a generation, and by the time it ended, the Old Empire had evaporated.


Next week, we will cover the First & Second Naxian Merchant Republics.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

[Guest Writer] Gemini by Brian Rydquist

Editor's Note: This is a content warning for those sensitive to certain topics; self-harm, child loss, graphic descriptions of violence.            Sylvia bent over the lifeless bodies of the newborn infants she had just spent six hellish hours delivering. Screams of anguish poured from her diaphragm, blood soaked her nightgown from the waist down. Her husband William knelt beside her, stroking her shoulder in a futile attempt at comfort. The midwife, an elderly Inuit woman, knelt on her otherside. “Please miss,  you must lay down. Your body has suffered incredible stress, the birth was not a good one.” “My babies, my babies, this can’t be!” Sylvia shrieked, deaf to the woman’s words. “Shh, shh,” William was muttering as he rubbed her shoulders. “Maybe it won’t be, I have already sent for the spirit leader of my tribe. He should arrive any moment.” “Don’t be a fool! How dare you give my wife this false hope! You can clearly see the babies are dead, and besides, no one cou

[Guest Writer] Rain, Again by Charlena Kea

  Uncle, it is happening again. The rain has come. I have spent thousands of nights praying that the world would realize something when they pulled your small body from the river. How delicate life is. How precious. How it floats and swells and then vanishes in even the gentlest currents. I prayed you would be more than a forgotten proverb. In a story about big men in faraway places. Their empty fists and uncalloused fingertips meeting tabletops unscathed. And the rain falling faithfully in turn. They say they are here to protect us. That we are safe behind a blinding cloud of rubble and the dust of month-old bones. But I always wonder why they did not protect you; my most precious kin. I wonder what it is that must be offered to deserve their protection. Because your fluttering pulse and brand new eyes for an old and broken world were not enough. A child’s body and a child’s heart is not enough. They didn’t protect you when the squall of fire and metal touched down on the land tha

[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | Sepulcher

 This is part three, and the finale, of this year's mini series! You can read part two here .                Anton dropped his bag down the shaft. After jimmying the outside doors, evading city employees and security, and going in a general downward direction, he had found it; the Plague Tunnels of Port Astor. He then dropped down himself, kicking up dust that hasn’t seen the light of day in nearly a century. Anton turned on his headlamp, which only stubbornly obliged. It revealed where he was; in the alley way between two buildings. As he stepped out into the forgotten street, he could make out one of the ancient signs; “ARTHUR’S IMPORTS & RARE BOOKS”. He cleared some of the dust from the window, which hung in the heavy air.                 He shined a light into the store, and as he did, an immense clamor was heard from within. Anton jumped back, and would have screamed if he hadn’t stifled it. He was, after all, trespassing. The shop door was still in place, and secured wi