The Land of a Thousand Pagodas
by Patrick SullivanHey everyone! Here's a little something I thought up in a kind of story form. It's based on a Mystaran version of the nation of Myanmar, better known as Burma. Sorry that it's so long, feel free to skim over as much as you like. If anyone is interested, there are some incredible pictures of this culture at the Myanmar government's home page. It reads like the propaganda of a third world dictator, but it still contains great pictures
If you find this at all interesting, I advise you to check out this site and to also reply to this post with comments/criticisms/whatever :~)
An excerpt from the diary of Taferias of Mafertat, Captain of the Glorious
...We believed all was lost once the ship ran aground, for everyone knows
that this area of the world holds nothing remotely resembling civilisation.
We couldn't determine our exact location due to the storm, which was still
as fierce as ever, but we knew that we were somewhere on the jungle coast of
the Sea of Steam or perhaps the Gulf of Tangor. At any rate, our chances
looked grim: even if we did somehow manage to repair the ship, we still
could not get away from this place without facing THEM again. At this
point, I think I'd rather take my chances with the jungle.
Daylight finally brought a clearing of the storm. The damage to the ship
was not as serious as I feared that it might have been, but it would still
require about a month of hard labour to repair, and we needed provisions.
Even if it were repaired, could we get away from here by sea? I certainly
had my doubts, but with the sun came new hopes for survival. I decided to
lead an expedition up the coast a few miles in each direction in order to
see what could be discovered. After a couple of miles we spotted something
shining in the distance ahead of us. You can imagine my surprise when I
saw, as we drew closer, a full-fledged town. Here! In what everyone knows
is the absolute middle of nowhere! At first glance, I would have to guess
that this town is about as big as home, back in Mafertat, Frisland,
Alphatia. The homes were primarily made out of wood with straw and mud to
seal them, and many small fishing canoes were moored along a full half-mile
stretch of the shore and along the slow mouth of a wide river. The people
going about their business in the town were undoubtedly human, but their
complexion was unlike any other that I have seen. If I had to guess, I'd
say that they were closest to the Jennites. They wore fairly typical
clothes for this climate-- scant and brightly coloured, but not indecent.
Aside from its size, it seemed to be a fairly typical native village, except
for the great temple or palace structure of some sort at the centre! It's
gracefully soaring, curving architecture towered over the rest of the town,
dwarfing it in comparison. But the most astonishing thing was that this
structure was covered with what appeared to be gold! When we came closer
and the peasants noticed us, they seemed somewhat frightened, but more an
uneasiness of strangers than the panic of terror. They backed away, until
three men in red robes with completely bald heads came toward us. Despite
what appeared to be a great treasure here, we didn't appear to be in a very
good position to take it by force, so I made the obvious choice to try to
befriend them. They three bald men bowed before us, and we returned the
gesture. I cast a spell so that we could communicate, hoping that they
wouldn't interpret it as a threatening gesture. They never batted an eye,
and I began to speak to them. I explained our situation (they were most
impressed that we had actually made it here across the sea), and asked them
for whatever help that they could give us. The monks, as they turned out to
be, and the peasants gladly and freely welcomed us into their homes, despite
the fact that almost none of my men could communicate with the natives. I
sat on the floor at a low table with my monk/host and shared a meal of rice
and chicken with a strange, foul-smelling, though pleasant-tasting, spice.
We also shared several cups of a delicious tea, and then he allowed me to
rest the night in his home. It never occurred to me until I was already
lying on my bedroll that they never once asked us to surrender our weapons.
It turns out that the palace is actually something called a "Pagoda".
Apparently it's a holy sight for their religion, which seems to involve
extreme pacifism and kindness to all beings. They do not "worship" their
patron immortal, as so many other primitive societies do, but look up to him
as a role model and mentor in their own quest for enlightenment. They call
their patron "Rohindartha," but I have never heard of such an immortal.
Everyone in the town seems to be a fervent philosopher; Allanmyo, my host,
explains that every boy of the town, as well as many of the girls, join the
monastery for at least a few months of their lives. If it is their calling,
they will spend their lives at the monastery. The monks and nuns (I met a
few nuns today) seem to actually be people from all walks of life: many are
typical clerics, but there are people reminiscent of Sindhi mystics, and
there are even a few magic-users! They follow their philosophy of pacifism
and respect for all life very rigidly, though it is believed to be each
individual's responsibility to determine right or wrong for himself. Most
of my men, along with some of the natives, went back to the ship today to
try to repair it, but I decided to stay to learn what I could of this land.
The dome of the Great Pagoda is real gold! What's more, the natives tell me
that this is only one town in the great Land A Thousand Pagodas. Allanmyo
told me that there is a great king of this land who rules from his capital
at Pantang, the Glorious City of the Hundred Pagodas. The city I'm in, by
the way is called Rangyon. Anyway, Allanmyo says that there are hundreds of
pagodas throughout the Kingdom. Not all of them are made out of gold;
there's not that much gold in the whole world! But this is obviously an
incredible kingdom nonetheless! From how the monks describe the Kingdom, it
sounds more like a very loose federation of tribes united in their faith and
their symbolic allegiance to their King at Pantang.
Today I awoke to the sounds of shouting in the village. I quickly drew on
some clothes and then rushed outside to see what the commotion was. A pair
of tigers were in the centre of the town, and townspeople were running
helter-skelter to try to avoid their fangs and claws. I rushed forward and
fired a lightning bolt from my wand. Unfortunately my aim was off in my
haste, and it only grazed the side of one of the tigers. I prepared to
shoot again, this time more accurately, when I heard a spell cast from
behind me and felt myself unable to move. Me! An Officer of the Imperial
Alphatian Navy! A powerful wizard! ME! HELD?!? Allanmyo ran from behind
me and began calling orders to the peasants, who, instead of panicking,
listened and followed his orders. They all ran in the same directions,
leaving an open path for the tigers to escape, which they quickly did,
running back into the jungle. They poured some sort of tea which, in
retrospect, must have been drugged into my mouth. It released me from my
paralysis, but also seemed to relax my tension and calm my nerves and my
fury. Allanmyo explained to me that the tigers were simply passing through
town this morning when the townspeople began to awake, scaring the tigers,
and accidentally herding them towards the centre of town. The tigers had
eaten well that night, and, being one with nature, had no desire to kill. As
this was the case, all that Allanmyo had to do was allow them to escape to
go back to their cave and rest, all they ever wanted in the first place.
This excitement (and probably the tea) helped convince me to go back to bed
for a long nap. After my peaceful rest, I had much of the night to converse
with the monks. They explained many things of this part of the world,
claiming that great empires exist where Alphatian textbooks have always
taught exist nothing but barbarians! They also explained some more about
their philosophy, which sounds fairly good (and similar to the Great
Immortal Alphatia's) except that it is horribly impractical. Late this
evening, one of the monks spotted something moving quietly through town.
When we went to investigate and discovered three ghouls prowling the night,
I restrained my impulse to attack, remembering last time. You can imagine
my surprise when the monks all raced forward and fought the ghouls with such
incredible fury that nothing I've ever fought could stand up to their
combined might...
These are a strange people: peaceful, yet powerful; knowledgeable, yet
unknown; full of seeming contradictions. This diary does not do them
justice, with all the complexities of their society, but it at least sheds
some light on what until now has been a completely unknown kingdom, right
under the nose of Great Alphatia! I for one am certainly glad to consider
these people my friends, and I will never spread word of this land to those
money-grubbing gold-seekers who would try to rob them blind. Besides, I
might be able to turn a healthy profit off of trade with The Land Of A
Thousand Pagodas!