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[✗] The City of The Golden Sun


WuHanXianShi14
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((This is a prelude to the hou-zi reclaimation event which has been on the backburner for awhile, will PM LT leaders and hou-zi leaders with more info))

 

THE CITY OF THE GOLDEN SUN

 


 

14th of Sun’s Smile, 1602

 

“It’s a salad bar of horrors.”

 

“What?”

 

A flash of metal glinted off a ray of sun then cleaved downwards, slicing away at the thick overgrowth. Two men stepped through the rudimentary path that had been made as they continued to bushwhack their way through the jungle.

 

“This place, a salad bar of horrors, on account of the vegetation and the fact you can find the whole freak show here. Angry orcs, monkey men, rivers of fire…”

 

“No, I meant what is salad bar?” Replied a thick Harian accent.

 

“Elven thing, I think.”

 

The second man shrugged and moved on, raising his machete and continuing to cleave a path through the sea of flora. He was a short, thick set man, baring the dark, sun crisped skin of a Qalasheen, his full faced curly beard likely not practical in the humid airs of the tropics. His companion was taller and golden haired, his once fair skin now burnt red under the southern sun. A period of silence drifted between them, broken only by the slashing of plant life.

 

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?” Asked the blonde man.

 

“I hope so.”

 

“Their lives, I mean.”

 

“Dead is dead, we knew risks.”

 

Blondie couldn’t help but feel a bit rebuffed at his dark skinned companion’s stoicism, but he knew he was right. He paused to wipe a gleam of sweat from his sunburnt brow, then reached into his satchel, pulling out an aged compass. He narrowed his eyes to examine it.

 

“We’re due north, still on track.”

 


 

Three Weeks Earlier

 

The world had many opportunists and scoundrels, but Salim Ibn Hamid was among the best of them. At least that’s what he would liked to have thought. Word of the expedition had spread far, posters had been spread across Bastion, Aleksandria and Sutica.

 

Find your Fortune!

A city of gold nestled in the asul jungle!

Travel to Haria, join the expedition!

Selim’s Pathfinders await you.

 

Naturally, any sane man would dismiss a crazy proposal like this, ignore it, and carry on with their normal lives. However, the world was full of people who were not quite sane, or perhaps simply desperate enough to make the gamble. Indeed, a baker’s dozen of men, all human, had travelled to Haria. They had gathered in a smokey [[why is the word h o o k a h censored guys cmon]] lounge in the sandy desert city.

 

Selim drew his silk cloak across his breast to give off an air of importance and stepped onto a table, clearing his throat for everyone’s attention. His brown skin had been powdered, and his beard trimmed in the fashion that Qalasheen nobles wore. Appearances were important. The people he had lured were a different story. Peasants, mostly disillusioned farmers and fishmongers, and one leather-bound man with a worn arming sword strapped to his hips. Likely a mercenary, and the only other Qalasheen in the bar.

 

Selim spoke.

 

Salaam, rafiqi! You are here because you saw my call. Well, I will tell you- the posters did not lie!”

 

A murmur rippled through the small crowd. Selim continued.

 

“The men of the Westerlands have discovered a new people, beasts who walk and talk like us, yet have the fur and tails of monkeys!”

 

“So, like the cat-men?”

 

“Yes, yes.” Selim grunted, waving off the comment with mild irritation. “But they are not what concerns me. Further rumours say these monkey men left behind a grand palace city, made of gold, silver and all other precious stones imaginable! And the best part, rafiqis, they leave it abandoned!”

 

Another murmur rippled through the crowd, this one with more of an air of concern. A blonde man waved away a cloud of ****** smoke near him then spoke up.

 

“I heard of that. I heard the place is cursed. You walk in there and you begin shriveling up like a raisin.”

 

Selim scoffed.

 

“Pfah! You know what I think? I think these monkey men have simply fallen too far, they no longer have the population to maintain the city, so they live outside and tell everyone it is cursed so no one will deface it. I think we’re being played for fools!”

 

Another murmur, this one showing excitement. He was slowly turning the crowd.

 

“You know what I say, gentlemen? I say the riches of that city are ours for the taking! I say that all we need to be is the first group willing to make the journey, and we’ll live the rest of our lives in luxury! You would not have come all this way if not for that hope, do not give it up now. What do you say?!”

 

A lengthy silence ensued. Selim’s gaze faltered. Perhaps he hadn’t been as stirring as he’d hoped.

 

The qalasheen mercenary pushed himself up to his feet, nodding.

 

“I am Abram. I will go.”

 

The dominoes began falling, the blonde man rose up as well, his voice light. “Me too. Name’s Tanner. I have seven mouths to feed and cobbling just doesn’t do it. I’m in.”

 

One after the other, folk stood and affirmed their support. Two days later, they had departed upon a sleek schooner off the Harian docks and began sailing southward down the coast towards the jungles.

 


 

The jungle was a chorus of song. Parrots screeched and swooped from branch to branch, foliage rustled, and cicadas chirped.

 

The voyage down the coast had been uneventful, save for some pleasant scenery. The plains of northern Asul eventually transformed into the rocky cliffs and dense jungle landscapes of the south.  Days had passed now, and the unlikely group of intrepid adventurers had left their ship docked in a hidden cove, to venture into inland. On their backs they wore heavy travel bags and in their palms they grasped crude machetes.

 

They had made a brief stop by the coastal village of the Hou-zi. Selim had been very clear. We are simple merchants. We sell whale oil and are here to restock our rations before sailing back up to Linandria. It had worked, the monkey men were friendly- if distant, formal and mildly suspicious. They’d grown used to humans due to their interaction with the Westerlands, but the reverse was not true. Some of the expedition members marveled at the magnificent new creatures before them. Some kissed their Lorraine crosses and sought protection from these clearly unholy abominations.

 

They had departed, but naturally instead of sailing up to Linandria they had found a depression in the coastline and docked, sallying into the jungle in search of the fabled golden city of the Hou-zi. Now a row of destitute men carved their way through the jungle, the sea now a distant memory.

 

Selim came to a halt, the prim Qalasheen looked up from the faded map his face had been buried and turned around to his troupe.

 

“If my charts are accurate, we must be close. Abram, Tanner, scout ahead for flat ground to camp on. God willing, tomorrow we will be rich men!”

 


 

Tanner the blonde cobbler and Abram the stoic Qalasheen mercenary followed the trail back to the group, one they had cut on their forward scouting mission. The sellsword had found a stark piece of grass to chew on.

 

“Why do I always draw the short draw, Abe? You think Selim doesn’t like me?”

 

“I do not think he cares about any of us. I think he will take first chance to rid of us once he gets his plunder. We must be wary.”

 

“You think? The man may be a toady but he wouldn-...”

 

Tanner’s eyes went wide as he was cut off by a palm suddenly and firmly clasping over his mouth.

 

“Quiet.” Abram hissed.

 

The two ducked into the thicket, crouching behind a thick tree. Ahead of them was their group. But they were not alone.

 


 

As everything went silent, Selim looked up from his map. It took him a moment to process what was now in front of him. In the trees, a dozen Hou-Zi. But these were not the docile villagers they had encountered earlier. These Hou-Zi were feral. Their coloured faces were painted red, they ornamented their limbs with bones, and they carried spears tipped with barbed obsidian. They spoke no words. Only watched, their eyes inhuman.

 

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The humans slowly gathered around Selim, understandably nervous, murmuring under their breath.

 

“We should have known. They would know...”

 

“God’s punishment for our dishonesty…”

 

“They’ll kill us…”

 

“Quiet!” Selim hissed. He then took in a deep breath, put on his best diplomatic smile and ventured forward towards the tribal monkey-men, his arms spread wide to show he meant no harm. He then spoke, ingratiatingly.

 

“Good Houzee… we mean you no harm! Our ship was wrecked off the shore and we were forced to venture into your jungle. See us on our way and we will continue heading north… to Aleksandria.”

 

The fearsome painted Hou-zi looked among themselves briefly. One swung down from the tree. He was tall, easily over six feet. His fur was a deep crimson red and the leathery skin of his face golden. He was a seasoned warrior, a leader. His voice was a growl.

 

“You lie. We follow you. We see you dock ship by shore. You seek theft from Hou-zi.”

 

Selim paled. He took a step back, his confidence shattered as he began to waver.

 

“N-no! I can assure you there’s been a misunder---...”

 

His words turned into gurgles, on account of the obsidian barb that had just forcefully entered his trachea. The crimson Hou-zi yanked his knife out of Selim’s throat, whose corpse crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Blood splattered the monkey’s golden face.

 

Shāle tāmen!”

 

And the spears began to rain down. The humans screamed, three were immediately impaled. One in the neck, one in the chest, one in the knee. The rest of the group dashed tried to dash into the forest in all directions in a delirious panic, only to be cut off by the primate warriors, infinitely more agile than them.

 

The slaughter was brief, but lasted just long enough. From behind the thick tree, Abram tugged Tanner’s sleeve.

 

“We must go. Now.

 

The cobbler was absolutely no hero, and after snapping out of his daze of numb horror quickly nodded in agreement. The two scrambled north, no longer cutting through the thicket, but tearing through it clumsily like charging bulls.

 

The crimson furred chieftain looked to his left, all the humans had been slain, blood pooling from their contorted corpses on the wet jungle floor. He saw two more silhouettes disappear northward. He considered chasing, then simply grunted.

 

Let Jing-Taiyun eat them alive, if that is what they wish.

 


 

“It’s a salad bar of horrors.”

 

Tanner and Abram had been alone for days now, perhaps a week. Neither of them had been keeping count. The jungle’s streams kept their hydrated, the coconuts in the trees kept them alive. Their clothes were ragged, skin covered in scabs, and eyes weary.

 

“I can’t die out here, Abram.” The blonde bemoaned. “I have family.”

 

Abram grunted as he continued to cut his way stoically through the forest.

 

“Six kids, little brats. Old hag of a wife, screamed my ear off for wantin’ to go on this venture. But they rely on me, Abram. I thought I could bring home a sack of monkey gold, have ‘em want for nothing for the rest of their lives. Now I’m gonna die out here and leave them starving.”

 

“Tanner.”

 

“Little Liz, she’s the smallest of ‘em. Not even five, won’t last the winter without m--..”

 

Tanner.”

 

“What?!”

 

“We’re here.”

 

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/5a/fb/e4/5afbe429038489293f7b4ea565e348a8.jpg

 

Tanner blinked, rubbing his eyes and doing a double-take. They had stumbled out the thicket, which ended completely abruptly, the treeline ending, making way for the glory that was once the Hou-Zi empire.

 

Jing-Taiyun stood before them.

 

“It’s… beautiful.”

 


 

Tanner ventured out into the vast central courtyard of the ruined city. Colossal, austere statues of Hou-Zi in intricate garb and armour glared down at him, as if expressing their distaste that their sanctuary had been disturbed. The entire place was silent, unnaturally so. No birds sung, no wind blew, even the trees were silent.

 

Abram rubbed his arm and furrowed his brow.

 

“I feel...odd, something is in air.”

 

Whatever the weight of the situation was, the cobbler didn’t pick up on it.

 

“Abram, come on! Let’s make off with what we can.”

 

“And then what?”

 

“We head north, Aleksandria. Sell our loot, live like kings.”

 

“Tanner, look around.”

 

Only half listening to the mercenary, Tanner scurried about the courtyard. He checked old, ancient alleys and decayed gardens. He looked behind statues and under rubble. Gradually, his enthusiasm ebbed, until it lost steam entirely.

 

“There’s nothing.” He muttered. “No gold, no jewels. It was a lie.”

 

Abram nodded solemnly, “Picked clean. We should have figured.”

 

Tanner looked down, then up again, a brief flicker of hope in his gaze.

 

“The throne room! There must be one. There, in that big palace at the end of the courtyard.”

 

Abram opened his mouth to protest, but the cobbler had already begun scurrying off to the imposing, sharp-roofed palace at the end of the plaza. It was an intimidating, huge building which had withstood the centuries of decay around it.

 

“Tanner… to defile a throne, even if this city is not cursed.. It is an omen.”

 

“Pish. The only damnation I fear is from GOD, and he cares not for a heathen city built by beasts.” Grunted the blonde, striding in through the massive open gates to the palace. Abram stayed outside, hand on the hilt of his sword, nervous.

 

The main entrance led straight to the throne, a dazzling fixture made entirely of turquoise jade. Not an an inch of it wasn’t covered extensively in detail, frescoes and carvings of dragons, tigers, swords and the sun lathering its surface. Its imposing size made the cobbler look very small indeed.

 

At the very top of the throne was a statuette. Not particularly big, but easily the most notable feature. It was a darker shade than the rest of the throne, carved in the shape of a regal Hou-zi, wearing a crown, ornate armour and a bo-staff. It rang with an otherworldly aura, as if calling to anyone brave enough to claim it.

 

https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1jkY3MVXXXXXWXpXXq6xXFXXXn/song-voge-gem-S3553-16-China-Chinese-Folk-Pure-Brass-Heavenly-Palace-Monkey-King-Sun-WuKong.jpg

 

Tanner licked his lips, grinning. He clumsily climbed up the throne, which obviously had been built for a creature, a king- a god, much larger than him. He clasped his hands around the idol and began tugging, seeking to detach it from the throne.

 

“Come on now…” he grunted.

 

The massive throne room doors slammed close behind him, on their own. Tanner blinked.

 

Abram began shouting from the other side, his voice alarmed. Tanner couldn’t hear through the walls he was now trapped in. He fell deathly silent, the blood draining from his face as he realized his fate.

 

The entire room began to emanate a red glow, shaking, rumbling. A voice spoke, its source clearly from the idol, as it glowed deeper than anything else . It was not loud, not booming, not imposing. It was an omnipotent voice that carried itself as naturally as leaves on the wind. Yet it shook Tanner to his very soul.

 

Bei Dao

Dong Dao

Xi Dao

 

When the Hou-Zi conquer the trials of all corners of the earth as their forefathers did, the Golden Sun shall return to them.

 

Tanner released the idol frantically, stumbling and collapsing like a limp fish from the throne. His mild reeled, he scrambled backwards on his rump, eyes wild, manic.

 

Tell them this, son of Horen, and do not further interfere in a destiny that is not yours.

 

With a whimper which turned into a shriek, Tanner jolted up and exploded out of the throne room like a startled deer, as if he had suddenly been unfrozen from time. He ran, ran and ran. Ran until the cursed city was no longer in his view. It was finally then, back in the thick, singing jungle that he stopped to catch his breath, his mind finally beginning to process what had happened.

 

Abram had followed him, panting, he finally caught up from behind.

 

“Tanner… what did you see?”

 

The cobbler gulped.

 

“We need to go back.”

 

“...Back?”

 

“...To the Hou-Zi village.”

 

Abram blinked, his eyes going wide.

 

“Are you mad? The savage ones will kill us.”

 

“No… they won’t. I… we need to go back.”

 


 

Three Isles

Three Sons

Three Trials

Show us you are worthy.

Golden Sun awaits your return, Hou-Shen.

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

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Is this some sort of Daoist race of monkey people straight out of the myths of China? Not really played more than a week on this map, so quite outside the loop on the current going ons but a very well written piece my friend.

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52 minutes ago, KBR said:

Shen-Li, leader of the Hou-Zi begins preparations. 

((Tinyurl.com/HouZiMega should answer all your questions @juliusaakerlund

 

 

Thanks bud most appreciated

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Shen-Xun, son of Shen-Li would be sitting perched in a tree overlooking the coastal cliffs of the Hou-Zi village. His spear latched to his back as he sat eating a small papaya fruit. His red eyes gleam in the sunlight as he mumbles "Peace. . . will only last for few more day. To battle I go for good of my people." 

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Lanhua, being adorned in leather and warpaint, growls. She would be gathering weapons with her fei'zhu child. "No fear, Se. We fight, and with that retake our city."

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Xiahou raised his kanabo menacingly. Adorning his demonic mask and armor he growled. 

"No fear!"

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