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Tribal Wars (1685 CE - 1788 CE)

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The Tribal Wars (1685 CE - 1782 CE)
The period known as the Tribal Wars were an extraordinarily chaotic period in Mênnan history. Population growth and an increase in foreign trade encouraged territorial growth by the once fairly cooperative tribal groups. A race between the over three hundred separate tribal groups of the nation began to capture critical resources to support trade and growth. This growth led to larger armies and a growing series of intertribal alliances that formed a complex web of political connections across the nation. The size, frequency and scale of conflict gradually escalated over this period.

Wars of tribal conquest became the norm as disputes between territorial boundaries increased. Absorption of smaller, weaker tribes became the norm. Occasionally, especially powerful vêhitap could gather support for rebellions, and new tribal groups would break off from larger ones in civil conflicts. The territorial map of the Mênna became a constantly shifting entity as tribes grew, disappeared, broke apart, shrunk and shifted their land claims.

This escalation of conflict encouraged the rise of charismatic Hitap warlords. Of particular note were two young men from current day Shuâ territory, Hitap Stâhak Sântê and Hitap Tuspêsêt Pash. Hitap Stâhak Sântê was the son of Hitap Stâhak Kiukê, leader of the Shuâ, and was his father's heir. Born in 1760, Stâhak was raised in his father's house, a large fortress, where he had incredible wealth, the greatest tutors, and dozens of servants. He was trained in the arts of war, foreign language and poetry, and was a well-known archer and horseman. Even amongst the vêhitap'at, Hitap Stâhak Sântê was raised in extraordinary luxury for the time, carefully guarded from potential assassination attempts by tribal rivals.

Hitap Tuspêsêt Pash, on the other hand, had been born in similar luxury, but was not familiar to owning it himself. His father had been the leader of a minor tribe, the Mau Shuvihêwâ, who had been defeated and absorbed by the larger and more prosperous Ashuvi. Tuspêsêt's mother had managed to escape being taken as a hostage, along with her son, and had run to the Shuâ, with whom she shared blood going back to the tribe founder, Shuâ Shuâ. Tuspêsêt's father was executed, and his younger sister was kept as a hostage by the Ashuvi. Tuspêsêt's mother was accepted into the household of Hitap Stâhak Kiukê, but died soon after, and so Tuspêsêt was left orphaned at the age of four as an honoured guest in the home of a very distant cousin. He had access to no material wealth or warriors of his own, and grew up relying wholly on the temperamental generosity of Hitap Stâhak Kiukê.

Stâhak Kiukê saw Tuspêsêt as a potential opportunity to either conquer the growing Ashuvi territory or to gain them as an ally later. As the only free heir of the Mau Shuvihêwâ people's warlord, Tuspêsêt had the potential to incite rebellion, or to be used as a bargaining chip in later discussions. While Tuspêsêt was given tutoring, servants and training, he was kept as little more than a glorified prisoner in Hitap Stâhak Kiukê's home. Despite this, Tuspêsêt and Stâhak Sântê, being very close in age and similar in interests, became rapid friends. At the age of eight, the two boys made an oath to each other, cutting their hands with kêplisii and naming each other as brothers, a solemn rite. From that moment forward, they would treat each other as kin.

As the boys grew older, they both excelled in military training, but they diverged on several main points. Tuspêsêt was fascinated in studying foreign militaries, politics and art, although he came to see the flaws of foreign powers as abusive and decadent. He also came to enjoy the company of many of the more radical priests who came to the Shuâ lands. These priests espoused ideas of peace between the tribes, and a few began to foment new ideas in Tuspêsêt's head: the concept of Mênnan unification and the formation of a modern Mênnan state. This came to be Tuspêsêt's dream, the dream of Mênna Shuli, a State of the People. However, it ran counter to traditional tribalists, who saw the independence of the tribes and the right of the vêhitap'at to pursue their own independent wealth and prestige as sacrosanct.

Stâhak, on the other hand, was a student of Mênnan military history, and was especially fond of reading the epics of the Mihêna. Under his father's guidance, he developed strong ideas of Shuâ superiority and dominance. While he believed int the rights of the tribes to self-governance and independent culture, he secretly harbored conceptions of empire, and of unification under a Shuâ empire. He was fond of the old Mihênan art forms, especially statuary, and took every opportunity he could to visit the tombs of the former empire within his lands, lending him deeply rooted religious ideals. Stâhak aligned himself with traditional priests and vêhitap families, with whom he could develop a foundation for future alliances for his family.

Despite their differing political opinions, the two boys remained firm friends into adulthood. The pair were left in charge of the Shuâ many times in their youth, with the aid of advisors, when Stâhak Kiukê went off to conquer nearby tribes. Together, they oversaw building projects around Stâhak Kiukê's home, learned the organization of defenses, and oversaw disputes between vêhitap, setting the basis for their own future rules.

Stâhak's rule came sooner than the boy had expected. In 1777, while his father was overseeing coastal raids, a storm whipped up and drove the warlord's canoe into bluffs. He was rescued from the water by his men and returned to his home, but the cold seas had taken their toll and he came down with a case of pneumonia that claimed his life not long later. Stâhak Sântê inherited his father's home and rule of the Shuâ. There were some contestations, but Stâhak was able to defeat them all, either with the aid of Tuspêsêt's contingent of low-caste friends whom he turned into an impromptu intelligence service, or through 'esh. Stâhak was now in charge of the Shuâ tribe, with Tuspêsêt as one of his closest advisors.

Tuspêsêt wasted little time in asking his blood-brother for a favour. He had been in Shuâ territory for 13 years while his last remaining family, his sister Hitap Tuspêsêt Atshasat, remained a hostage. Tuspêsêt asked the newly empowered Stâhak to help him in her rescue, and to aid him in retaking his tribal territory. Stâhak agreed, and the pair marched to war against the Shuvi, their first chance to test their skills in large scale combat. The pair were markedly successful in this endeavor, raising the local Mau Shuvihêwâ against the Shuvi, who were defeated within weeks. Tuspêsêt gave three-quarters of the captured Shuvi to Stâhak, as well as spoils from his ancestral home and, most importantly, the hand of his rescued sister in marriage. Going forward, they believed, their lines would be tied together by blood. Unfortunately, this wouldn't come to pass. Tuspêsêt Atshasat would marry Stâhak, but died in childbirth less than a year later. It was unclear as to whether or not the child was even Stâhak's, as it very well could have been sired while she was a hostage of the Shuvi.

The death of his sister caused Tuspêsêt to begin considering his legacy, and he began openly proclaiming his support for Mênnan unity. At this time, he was mostly laughed off by other tribes, and in order to avoid embarassment, Stâhak began to distance himself from his blood-brother. At the Mâk Na feast of 1778, several warlords gathered to celebrate and discuss a possible alliance between their tribes, including Tuspêsêt, who had won several victories against attacking tribes in his early reign and had begun to gain a name as a tactician, and Stâhak, who had conquered a half dozen smaller nearby tribes. While the two already had an alliance, neither had called upon it since they had retaken the lands of the Mau Shuvihêwâ. At the feast, while everyone was drunk, Tuspêsêt began to outline his dream of unification. Another warlord, Hitap Hasha Ita, insulted him, and the pair swiftly escalated verbal jabs until Hasha challenged 'esh. Tuspêsêt agreed and called upon Stâhak to back him and his honour. Such a move would inevitably ally Stâhak with Tuspêsêt's dream, and he refused. Tuspêsêt fought and won the 'esh, drawing some support and prestige, but Stâhak's refusal to back him inevitably sundered their connection, and they left on harsh words. The pair would not speak to each other again for nearly a decade, and never again as friends.

The War of Xiangu Conquest (1782 CE - 1785 CE)
The tribal wars were interrupted and, ultimately, ended by a new conflict. In 1780, the Xiangu Hangate (Wellsia) established a garrison and trading post at the location of modern day Kuhêtulka. Over the next two years, the East Xiangu Company entrenched the new community, trading with locals and beginning to move in ships, equipment and supplies. While conflicts with the local Shuâ tribes did occur, this occupation of the isle was mostly peaceful in its early days.

However, in 1782, Xiangu leveraged its position with dreams of empire. The invasion began swiftly, with the Attack at Kushâ and the Massacre at Xuta Hill. Conflicts between tribes prevented a unified response at first, and the technologically superior Xiangus made rapid headway in their bid to conquer the mainland. Soon enough, however, the nearby tribes began to see the potent threat on their doorstep and set aside their differences to combat the foreign invaders. The warlords of the tribes came together, forming a war council that would later form part of the inspiration for the Sâtêp.

This war was particularly useful to Hitap Stâhak Sântê. The Shuâ warlord used the opportunity to absorb many nearby tribes and to build his own forces and reputation as a commander. While he was not yet the leader of his people, the respect accorded to him was second only to his uncle, and his victories against the Xiangus and the honour he accorded to traditional tribal ways earned him a broad array of allies. His marriage to Hitap Hashatê Mputa, the daughter of Hitap Hashatê Mêtta, in 1784 carried with it particular relevance, as he symbolically refused to merge their tribes, but instead allowed his wife to retain control of her people, although he effectively had control of her 1000 warriors. This referred back to a similar action between their tribes nearly a century and a half earlier, and represented his continued support for tribal individualism.

The war was extraordinarily bloody for both sides and wound up lasting three years. Xiangu's main difficulty lay in supply line distribution, which had to be supported through the single hub of their trading post, and which was unfortunately thin across their warzones. Mênnan fighters, with superior knowledge of the terrain and with better experience in fighting in local conditions, could easily disrupt supply lines, leading to widespread starvation or reliance on local hunting and gathering amongst the Xiangu attackers. In addition, while the Xiangus had superiority of firepower and technology, the Mênnan fighters had superiority in numbers and could often just throw more men at the problem when required. The Mênnan forces faced their biggest threats in a lack of unity between the various tribes, limited supplies of firearms and ammunition, and the limitations of their caste system in being able to deal with rapid deployment of newly trained troops. Both sides grew increasingly desperate for a victory, and by 1785 the Mênnan forces were on the brink of dissolution.

It was in then that Mênnan forces finally pushed back the invaders in a final attack on the Xiangu garrison. Hitap Itpa 'asha gathered thousands of boats, many of which were filled with dummies. In the darkness of night, the canoes were strung together and floated towards the garrison in imitation of an armada. As the garrison opened fire on the distraction, forces from the Mênna approached in secret from the swamps. A small group of warriors from the Mênna scaled the walls and sabotaged the Xiangu powder stores, causing an explosion and fire which took out part of the walls. As the Xiangu forces realized what was happening, the Mênna swarmed the walls and passed through the new hole. The remainder of the battle did not take long, as Hitap Itpa wound up killing the garrison commander herself. The Xiangus attempted to retreat by ship, and while some got away, at least two ships were burned to the waterline before they could make their way away.

The Battle of a Thousand Canoes was a terrifying display of the potential of a unified Mênnan people, conquering the trading post and cutting off Xiangu supplies. Within days, Xiangu forces on the Mênnan mainland surrendered, and were allowed to leave the country. No Xiangu ships were allowed to dock in Mênna for nearly a century following the war. What the Xiangu didn't know was that the council of chiefs who had been running the war had been on the brink of surrender themselves, and that the attack on the trading post had been an unauthorized assault by a collection of Vêhitap'at generals without the allowance of their superiors. Had the assault failed, Mênna would have been conquered as the first step in a Xiangu empire within weeks.

The Unification War (1785 CE - 1788 CE)
The narrow victory of the War of Xiangu Conquest war began to convince many of Hitap Tuspêsêt's calls for unification. The young prince began to find broader support, but resistance among traditional tribalists continued to swell. Foremost among his opponents was his blood-brother, with whom he had grown distanced as a result of his radical politics. As Hitap Stâhak and Hitap Tuspêsêt drifted apart in their friendship, each began consolidating power, and they became rivals.

War broke out between these factions soon after the end of the war with Xiangu. Only a few short weeks later, Tuspêsêt had established a treaty with the Shiêtu tribes, organizing his own marriage to the war-hero Hitap Itpa 'asha to bond the Mau Shuvihêwâ and Shiêtu into a single tribe. This, along with Tuspêsêt's alliances with other nearby tribes, worried Stâhak. Threatened by his blood-brother's rise, Stâhak attacked Tuspêsêt's wedding with an army of 3,000 troops. Tuspêsêt and his wife managed to escape the slaughter, and gathered their soldiers, beginning the Battle of the Wedding. Tuspêsêt was defeated, but Stâhak had horrified and alienated potential followers and allies by breaking the protections of holy rites like weddings, and for keeping 70 young female captives without the traditional respect to tribal ransom. Those who had seen Stâhak as a defender of the traditional ways of the tribes began to grow concerned, and a few withdrew their support of the young warlord entirely.

Tuspêsêt and Itpa retreated to the safety of Tuspêsêt's uncle's lands, where they regrouped. Tuspêsêt sent messages to several neutral tribal warlords and chieftains, decrying the violence perpetrated by Stâhak and his men. He was certain to try and get his messages to the furthest flung tribal lords before Stâhak could weave his own narrative, sending his fastest elite cavalry on the mission. He organized a meeting with those who sent a response, bringing his own allies with him, and began planning a military response against those who did not, assuming that they would eventually ally with Stâhak. At the meeting, he made a rousing plea for unity, hearkening back to the war against Xiangu, and framed Stâhak as a brute and opportunist who was taking advantage of divisions between tribes to conquer and absorb smaller groups. Tuspêsêt claimed that he was not calling for a dissolution of the tribal cultures, but a unity of purpose against invaders. He ended his speech with the words that would later become the nation's motto, "Tunlam Kâx, Shuli Kâx, Hêvi Kâx" or "Strong Tribe, Strong Nation, Strong World". With these words, Tuspêsêt shifted the dynamic of the argument away from discussions of traditionalism versus modernism, and placed unification on the side of the tribes as opposed to being antithetical to tribal authority. Stâhak was now characterized as the one opposing tribal authority by being framed as a bloodthirsty conqueror.

Not everyone at the meeting was won over by Tuspêsêt, but those who were agreed to an alliance. Tuspêsêt allowed those who were opposed to leave, but silently added them to his list of military targets. He and his allies pretended to move on to the traditional celebrations of a newly formed alliance, but he then called a second, secret meeting. There, he outlined his military plans.

Stâhak had not been inactive while Tuspêsêt was planning, and came to believe that Tuspêsêt was planning a counterattack for revenge on the Battle of the Wedding. Tuspêsêt's spies within Stâhak's house had passed on the message that Stâhak was preparing defenses and readying for a assault, calling many of his allies from across the tribes to Shuâ lands to prepare for the perceived invasion. Tuspêsêt knew that an advance against Stâhak would be disastrous without further support for his cause, and if it wouldn't come from peaceful discussion, he was willing to win it through war.

Where Tuspêsêt revolutionized Mênnan warfare was in the realm of intertribal cooperation and communication. Where in the past tribes in an alliance would remain fairly independent in their command and operation, Tuspêsêt instead ensured a more unified hierarchy of intertribal command. He created new units with the dedicated purpose of carrying messages between forces on the battlefield, established a meritocratic ranking system amongst the vêhitap commanders with a dedicated central command, and, most critically, allowed for the creation of forces comprised of multiple tribes under a single command. Operating on old paradigms, enemies would often look for movements of large forces comprised of a single tribe. Tuspêsêt's method of force organization allowed him to undermine these preconceptions and operate with certain levels of stealth and surprise on his side.

The basics of these ideas were presented to his allies at that first night, as well as the initial strategy for the war. While Stâhak's army remained dug in, Tuspêsêt would spread deliberate misinformation by sending the bulk of the new alliances forces to act under the guise of preparing a revenge attack, as old rules of honour would dictate. Meanwhile, Tuspêsêt and Itpa took a smaller collection of the coalitions forces, comprised of units from multiple tribes to disguise their exit from the main bulk, and marched them towards the lands of Stâhak's allies. These lands had been left lightly defended under the impression that Tuspêsêt would seek the prestige and honour of facing Stâhak head-on in retaliation for the Battle of the Wedding. Most of the lands had been left in the care of the heirs of the various tribal leaders. Tuspêsêt sent word ahead to these heirs, offering them an ultimatum: if they surrendered and joined Tuspêsêt's side, Tuspêsêt would provide them command of their tribes and a voice in the final shape of the unified nation, as well as the spoils and lands of war. If they refused, he would attack, and there would be no taking of hostages for ransom. With the sudden appearance of an army on their doorstep, many were cowed into submission, and Tuspêsêt began to take away the support for Stâhak's army. He made sure that great respect and mercy was offered to all those who surrendered, with no hint of any ritual humiliation for the defeated. Instead, they were given a chance to prove themselves to the coalition in battle against those who refused to bend. Any of the new allies who fought bravely against opposition were embraced as equals in the coalition, and were given rewards in the shape of lands and spoils as though their tribe had been the conquering force.

As word spread of Tuspêsêt's advance, two sets of dominoes began to topple. Firstly, the alliance in Stâhak's land began to hear word that their home territories were being conquered. Stâhak and his allies knew that they had the numbers to defeat Tuspêsêt's smaller force to retake the captured tribal lands, but also knew that that would open the Shuâ lands to invasion from the bulk of Tuspêsêt's alliance. They were caught between a rock and a hard place: the tribal warlords either had to abandon their home territories to Tuspêsêt's advance, or abandon Stâhak's defense. This was extraordianrily polarizing, especially since their entire moral stance in the fight was predicated on preserving traditional tribal independence, and either action seemed to undermine that goal.

The second was that tribes began to have to judge their stances. Neutrality became less and less of an option as the monolith of Tuspêsêt and his alliance grew, adding friends and subsuming enemies. Those who had formerly turned Tuspêsêt down began to send word to either Tuspêsêt or Stâhak, finally seeking to end their neutrality. Tuspêsêt, seeing the once-neutral factions that had turned him down now coming to him, offered them a different deal than he had with the sons and daughters of his enemies. Seeing them as potential opportunists, he knew that the only way to assure their loyalty was to buy it in blood. He forced these warlords to tie their lines to those of his allies through marriage, effectively merging various tribes together under broader and broader banners with absolute command provided to those who had already proven their continued loyalty.

Stâhak knew that he was on tenuous ground with many of his allies, and made a drastic decision: he and his coalition would abandon Shuâ lands entirely and march on Tuspêsêt's marauding army. The thought was that if they could capture or kill Tuspêsêt, his coalition would break. In addition, they couldn't continue to allow Tuspêsêt to foment rebellion against them from their own heirs, as it sent a message to nearby warlords that Tuspêsêt was higher in prestige than they were.

Stâhak and his army disembarked from his lands on January 3, 1787. Against normal precedent, he left behind no defenders for his lands, and moved as swiftly as possible along the coast. A third of his forces broke off a few days later and boarded war-canoes, which they sailed around Keverai over the next several weeks. Some of these canoes left Mênnan waters to go as messengers to other nations to seek alliances, carrying with them gifts from Stâhak's treasury. Meanwhile, the rest of Stâhak's men proceeded as swiftly as possible towards the remaining neutral tribes that were in the path of Tuspêsêt's advance to rally them to his cause.

The main army of Tuspêsêt's coalition soon realized that Stâhak had abandoned his tribal lands, and swiftly invaded. However, they found much of the land to have been left behind Stâhak in a less-than-desirable state: farms had been burned, cattle run off or slaughtered and left to rot, fortress gates and walls shattered and canoes taken or sunk. There were no spoils in any warlord's household, and no high-ranking men or women left to take as hostages. While the low-castes left behind were quick to call allegiance to their new tribal leaders from Tuspêsêt's, the capture of the Shuâ lands could ultimately be seen as a shot in the foot for the army. They had to make the decision to try and hold the land, which would require repairing damaged fortifications and moving in food from other holdings to feed both their warriors and the locals, all under threat of possible raid while spreading their own forces thinner, or to abandon the new territory. Abandoning the territory could lead to the spread of disease if the starving and weakened locals decided to cross into Tuspêsêt's territory. at the least, it would leave a back door open for discontent low-caste rebels or for Stâhak's army to return. Tuspêsêt's allies ultimately decided to try and hold the territory. At the very least, much of the garrison at Kuhêtulka was still relatively intact, and could be manned in defense of a possible return of Stâhak's forces.

Stâhak's army passed through several neutral tribal territories to cut off Tuspêsêt's advance, which was met along the banks of Ihwala Musê near Mihêkallu, almost at the location of modern day Shuhakallu. Tuspêsêt's army was outnumbered by nearly three-to-one but better rested than Stâhak's men, who had had to push at an extraordinary pace to catch Tuspêsêt. In addition, Tuspêsêt and his men had had over a year of experience fighting alongside one another, while Stâhak's men were out-of-practice aside from minor border skirmishes and prevention of local rebellion. Despite this, the First Battle of the Delta (March 30, 1786 CE - April 3, 1786 CE) was a bloody stalemate, a running battle which lasted three days. Near the end of the battle, Tuspêsêt and Stâhak faced each other in 'esh, a combat which went to Tuspêsêt. Many believe the war would have ended at that point, had Tuspêsêt not spared Stâhak in memory of their status as blood-brothers. He left Stâhak with a blooding-scar on his cheek and asked for parley. Stâhak accepted the parley, but refused to surrender the battle, as his side's numerical superiority was beginning to take hold as attrition came into effect. Despite this, they eventually agreed to part and end the battle under terms of truce. There would be peace until Atuvi Shuâ Shuâ of that year, a date of importance for the pair's mutual ancestor. Historians aren't completely in agreement as to why this truce was made, but general consensus is that it was to honour predictions made by the priests overseeing the discussion. One of these priests, Kiahêspê Shuâ Atu, is remembered for his poetry, much of which focuses on themes of peace, and it's thought that he and others may have been hoping to create a more lasting truce or treaty between the two sides.

Stâhak and his forces took up camp in Mihêkallu, while Tuspêsêt and his army withdrew to allied territory amongst the Vivi. In the interim of the truce, Tuspêsêt took the opportunity to enact plans he had drawn up against future potential enemies, and helped his Vivi allies conquer and unify many of their neighbouring tribes, extending their reach to current-day levels. Meanwhile, Stâhak built his connections with foreign powers. His emissaries had reached out to several nations, the most pertinent of which were Covonant and Belle ilse en terre. Covonant, still fresh to the regional stage, saw an economic opportunity to gain influence amongst the Mênna, while nobles in Belle Ilse en Terre saw an opportunity for self advancement, especially with the gifts they had been brought by Stâhak's representatives. Covonant didn't have the force projection to be able to send troops, but was able to begin sending shipments of weapons to Stâhak and his allies, an easy task now that Stâhak occupied the ancient trading city of Mihêkallu. Knights from Belle Ilse en Terre arrived shortly before Atuvi Shuâ Shuâ to lend their support to Stâhak's cause.

As the truce reached its end, the two armies came out of their period of rest. This began a period of careful maneuvering. Both sides sought to choose the battlefields they would fight upon. While Tuspêsêt's forces had swelled with reinforcements from the main bulk of his army during the truce, the success of his smaller, more mobile army in swiftly taking control of broad swaths of tribal land made him loath to face Stâhak's larger, less coordinated forces in open battle. Stâhak still sought to end the war by killing Tuspêsêt, something certainly egged on by the blooding he had received at their last meeting and by the fresh loads of guns he had been receiving. While minor skirmishes occurred over the next few months as both armies ranged into nearby lands, absorbing many smaller tribes in their path, the next major battle wouldn't occur until October of 1786 in Sipuxa territory.

The Battle of Imina Gorge took place over two days. Stâhak's army had tracked patrols from Tuspêsêt's coalition to near Imina Gorge, where clashes began. The patrols convened and managed to retreat into the protection of the gorge, with Stâhak breaking off a portion of his forces to pursue while the bulk of his forces swung north east to try and come in from a switchback pass a day to the north and cut off retreat. To aid in this endeavor, Stâhak sent a large contingent of cavalry ahead to try and capture the pass ahead of his main forces. However, the cavalry happened to stumble into a sizable contingent of Tuspêsêt's army, who had been attempting to set up an ambush of their own for Stâhak's forces in the gorge. Both sides were on the back heel, neither expecting the actions of the other, and they both immediately retreated back towards the main bulk of their armies. The two armies rushed to try and catch the opposing contingent before they could get a message back to their commanders, only to run into each other. Battle commenced in the savanna east of the gorge, with little cover or protection for either side. Tuspêsêt, having been speaking to delegations of several nearby tribes when the battle began, didn't arrive until early on the second day, and attempted to maneuver his forces into the gorge, where they could establish a choke point against Stahak's cavalry, as both sides had been caught unprepared and were already running low on shot for their guns and cannons. Stâhak didn't fall for the bait and wound up withdrawing his men deeper into the plains, but two of his chief commanders saw an opportunity to attack Hitap Itpa, who was managing the eastern flank of her husband's army. The commanders broke off their tribal forces and attacked the flank. Itpa managed to withdraw, carrying the enemy with her, directly into the center bulk of Tuspêsêt's forces. Stâhak's commanders found themselves surrounded, and in order to rescue them Stâhak had to charge back into the original battlefield. While the two commanders wound up losing the bulk of their forces, this actually wound up being an accidentally decisive move for the battle, as Stâhak managed to sandwich a good portion of Tuspêsêt's men. While Tuspêsêt and Itpa both managed to get away with the bulk of their forces, they had wound up taking much heavier losses than their opponents.

Tuspêsêt did everything in his power after this battle to achieve diplomatic victory among the remaining tribes not involved in the conflict. He relayed messages of Stâhak's involvement with foreign powers and his open invitation of foreign armies into Mênnan lands, described horror stories of knights from Belle Ilse en Terre raping and butchering women, children and priests in the open, and took great pains to paint Stâhak as a lackey to foreign powers unable to resist their temptations and as a butcher in his own right. The memory of the Battle of the Wedding and of the War of Xiangu Conquest was still fresh in the minds of many Mênnan princes, and Tuspêsêt began to see the last neutral parties in the country swing to his side. He aided those he could in their own, continuing conflicts, and by the end of the spring of the next year, the tribal map of the Mênna began to closely resemble the final form it would take into the modern day.

Stâhak had attempted to pursue Tuspêsêt after Imina Gorge, but the death of one of the two commanders who had charged Hitap Itpa, Hitap Ihaka Tâtâse, led to confusion amongst his ranks. The commander's daughter and heir, Hitap Ihaka Itapak, had aligned herself with Tuspêsêt early in the conflict, and there was division among the Tas Vâkik among Stâhak's forces as to whether they should follow a prince among their own number as their new warlord and remain associated with Stâhak's cause, or rejoin Hitap Ihaka Itapak on Tuspêsêt's side. Their tribal lands were firmly controlled by Tuspêsêt's forces and Ihaka Itapak, but her cousin, Ihaka Mpi, had a legitimate claim to inheritance. The quarrel eventually broke out into combat, which ignited similar, minor rebellions throughout Stâhak's forces. Stahak found himself having to quell internal problems while Tuspêsêt set the narrative and gained allies among the rest of the nation.

As spring came, Stâhak had managed to return his forces to order. He had begun implementing some of Tuspêsêt's changes himself in the wake of the unrest, and was again ready to return to the greater conflict, but knew he had to be more careful now. His numbers had been depleted, and the two sides were beginning to look more and more comparable in numerical strength. What Stâhak had that Tuspêsêt did not was foreign support and wealth, his control over Mihêkallu having provided him direct access to the strongest trade market in all of the Mênnan lands. He could continue to provide his commanders and men wealth and rewards, and the ancient city retained many of its strong defensive fortifications form times long past. Stâhak thought that if he could lure Tuspêsêt into an attack against the city, he would be able to hold out through the incoming ships of his foreign allies.

Having learned of Tuspêsêt's spies, Stâhak split off a number of his best and most trusted men from the city and began to march them west, making it seem like he was heading back to his lands to try and retake them. He let word spread among the merchant caste that his times of instability weren't over, and that the garrison at Mihêkallu were fomenting rebellion. Then, he waited. Tuspêsêt took the bait and moved his forces towards the city, hoping to cut of Stâhak's material support. As Tuspêsêt began his assault on the city, Stâhak swung his elite forces around and waited. The commander of the garrison made overtures of parley, and while Tuspêsêt rode forward to meet with the man, cutting he and his guard off from the bulk of his army, Stâhak struck. His elite cavalry and cannon smashed into the flank of Tuspêsêt's men. The garrison in the city likewise began to open fire. Tuspêsêt's army was caught between the walls of Mihêkallu, the Ihwala Muse, and Stâhak's army. This began the Second Battle of the Delta (February 26, 1787).

Tuspêsêt was cut off from most of his forces, and was forced to retreat while harried by cavalry. At first, Stâhak's plan worked perfectly. However, as Tuspêsêt's army regained their footing, it became clear that Stâhak's forces outside the walls weren't going to be enough to break Tuspêsêt's. While Tuspêsêt's men had taken a great many losses in the initial attack, especially Tuspêsêt's personal guard who had lost nine out of every ten men, once they had regrouped they could resist Stâhak's charges. As their leader returned to the army, they rallied and managed to hold the line, although unbeknownst to them Tuspêsêt had actually been struck by a bullet in the thigh and had fought much of the battle wounded. With the bulk of his infantry inside the walls of the city, Stâhak saw his best opportunity to be to simply withdraw and pull Tuspêsêt into a siege. Tuspêsêt refused to take the bait, and instead ordered a withdrawal of his men up the Ihwala Muse.

In a change of pace for Tuspêsêt, once the battle was over, he turned back and returned his army to Mau Shuvihêwâ lands. His wife had become pregnant, and he wanted to wait out the pregnancy in the safety of his own lands and by rejoining the two halves of his forces. In a role reversal from earlier in the conflict, the next nine months saw Stâhak ranging out to tribal lands to attack the homes of Tuspêsêt's allies. Tuspêsêt had prepared for this, however, and had made sure to withdraw as many people, as much food, and as much wealth as possible with him. Entire tribal groups had uprooted and followed along with Tuspêsêt to his lands in a show of incredible unity. However, while this left Stâhak with little to conquer, it put massive strain on the resources in the west, and disease and starvation began to become a serious problem.

In addition, the withdrawal of the priestly caste in these areas left many tombs untended for and unguarded, a tremendous problem for the Mênna. While Mênnan warriors could be trusted not to destroy, damage or loot tombs out of respect, the same could not be said of the warriors of Belle ilse en terre. While most modern tombs didn't interest them, the pyramid tombs of old Mênna held great interest for them, and they began to ransack these tombs for their wealth, artwork and the mummies within. This was an incredibly grave insult to the Mênna, who believed that the destruction of these tombs was paramount to killing off their ancestor's souls.

As word began to spread of this tomb-raiding, Stâhak's allies made calls for him to cut off ties with the foreign desecrators. More and more, Tuspêsêt's claims that Stâhak was being manipulated by foreign powers that he was too weak to resist looked accurate. In January of 1788, a number of merchants, workers and warriors in Mihêkallu, under the direction of several angry, militant priests, boarded a Covonantian merchant vessel carrying weapons and powder and burned it to the waterline. Within the city, violent mobs formed hunting down all foreign merchants. The Mihêkallu Massacre marked a drastic turning point in the war, and saw the beginning of Stâhak's downfall. He was forced to cut-off his foreign allies or lose control of his coalition, and with this end of the alliance, his material superiority began to dwindle. Both sides saw themselves reverting more and more to traditional forms of warfare as access to gunpowder, shot and new equipment began to fall. By the end of the Mênnan year in July, it became increasingly clear that victory would have to come swiftly for one side or the other, or the toll on resources and health would become too much for the tribes to handle.

Stâhak knew that he would have to take desperate gamble to defeat Tuspêsêt. With his rival's army united and bedded down in Mau Shuvihêwâ and Shuâ territory, a direct assault from head on would be foolish. His best opportunity would be to get behind the opposing forces and take out Tuspêsêt's house itself. To do so would require a dangerous gambit. Stâhak again split his forces. As they marched north to Kilâmkallu past Mau Shuvihêwâ territory, Stâhak took a large contingent of his men and brought them west into the desert. Tuspêsêt ordered his armies to move north after Stâhak while remaining behind with his newborn son. This is where Stâhak's gamble took hold.

Stâhak attempted the bold move of crossing the mountains by foot to enter Tuspêsêt's territory and capture the rival warlord by surprise while his army was occupied near Kilâmkallu. Unfortunately, fate had a different plan in mind. On the morning of August 10, 1788, as Hitap Stâhak crossed the mountains near Ê Nimitihê, the volcano exploded. The largest modern eruption on record in Mênna Shuli, fully three-quarters of Hitap Stâhak's men were killed by poison gas, magma and falling stone. Without the support of Stâhak's army, and viewing the smoke from the mountains as a sign, Hitap Stâhak's allies broke, and the subsequent rout ended open combats in the war. Tuspêsêt heard word soon after and sent out forays towards the devestation, and wound up capturing the surviving members of Stâhak's band, including Stâhak himself. The war was over.

Dawn of the Modern Era (1788 CE - 1894 CE)

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Dawn of Mênna Shuli, The State of the People (1788 CE - 1812 CE)
The eruption of Ê Nimitihê effectively ended the war between Hitap Stâhak Sântê and Hitap Tuspêsêt Pash. Hitap Tuspêsêt consolidated his gains and created the first Têmênna Sâtêp as a council of the leadership of the now-unified tribes. The first meeting of the Sâtêp was held on September 2, where Hitap Tuspêsêt was named the first 'uhitap. Hitap Stâhak was killed in captivity on October 14, 1788, preventing him from again rallying support to his side.

The next decade was shaped by the new government quashing resistance to the new, unified rule, all while formulating the laws of rulership that would define the future of the nation. Many of Hitap Stâhak's allies remained active, but without their leader they had broken apart, many of them without home territories to return to. These rogue warlords continued to harry the infant nation, and it was the primary focus of the new Sâtêp to deal with them. Those who did not become rebels within the new state escaped to the seas, and began to build a reputation for themselves as pirates and corsairs.

While Hitap Tuspêsêt wanted the role of 'uhitap to be hereditary, hearkening back to ancient empires, traditional tribal chiefs and foreign kings, he found resistance among the new Sâtêp, and the death of his son in 1799 effectively ended his direct bloodline and any hopes he had for hereditary monarchy. Instead, the role of 'uhitap became cemented as the role of an elected monarch, which became the precedent on to the current day.

Initially, the capitol of the new nation was centered on Mihêkallu, but 'uhitap Tuspêsêt ordered the construction of a new city across the river from the ancient trade hub. This would become Shuhakallu, and it's population would swell as the nation began its first steps into unity. The Twin Cities of Mihêkallu and Shuhakallu grew to be the center of the culture of the new nation. Vêhitap from all the tribes flocked to these cities to gain connections and wealth, while lower caste individuals arrived for work. While much of the country remained quite similar in its day-to-day life as before unification, albeit with their rulers now working as a cooperative whole and a cohesive distribution of resources, the Twin Cities began to develop into something of a more modern edifice.

Continued resistance to foreign involvement in Mênna Shuli's affairs set up isolationist policies in these early days of the nation. Those nations which had stood next to Stâhak were banned from the country, and all other foreign ships could only enter ports in Mihêkallu, where all trade was enacted through the merchant caste. The vêkivêv'at actually began to see their wealth swell during this period as their influence over foreign trade grew. The urban vêkimâ'at, or warrior caste, grew increasingly resentful of the merchants at this time, who were technically lower than them on the caste structure, but many of whom were rapidly accruing large amounts of wealth. At first, this would cause little issue, but this discontent would eventually blossom into the new era's first open rebellion against the state.

'uhitap Tuspêsêt oversaw the first fifteen years of the nation's development, before passing away on November 12, 1812, at the age of 52. The political turmoil following his death as the tribes each put forth their candidate for 'uhitap was all enough to stir the negative emotions of the warrior caste. The brewing ill feelings were increased by several remaining allies of Stâhak, who would come out of the woodwork in the wilds to aid the discontent warriors in the Spring Vêkimâ'at Rebellion.

Spring Vêkimâ'at Rebellion (1813 CE)
The Spring Vêkimâ'at Rebellion occurred between March 10, 1813 and May 22, 1813. It began when a large contingent of unemployed vêkimâ'at in Shuhakallu marched against the Hall of the Sâtêp, initially in a form of peaceful protest encouraged by tribalist priests. They were demanding a distribution of wealth to the vêkimâ'at, who could no longer independently support themselves through raiding of nearby tribes, and now saw the "lesser" vêkivêv'at caste becoming wealthier than they off the back of trade and commerce. However, due to their right as warriors, all of the marchers were armed, and the Sâtêp ordered the new Mênnan Army to stand against them. Hostilities escalated quickly, and combat broke out between the two sides.

The protestors were dispersed, but many fled the city and into the wilds, where they convened to the north-east of the city. They journeyed to the small village of Kunêshêktêmilu, where the local warlord was known to have remained neutral until the latest parts of the Unification War, and begged him for aid. The warlord, Hitap Pishatâtê Shaka, had been in dispute with the new government over the new taxes presented by them, especially their requirements from his fisheries on the lake. He heard the warriors and decided to shelter them. Exiled vêhitap heard of this shelter and quickly flocked with their own small groups of bandits and outlaws to the village.

The government, hearing of this, sent a message to Pishatâtê with an ultimatum: he would either turn away the rebels immediately, or face immediate reprisals. Pishatâtê, who was seeing his village swell with criminal activity and his larders and hunting grounds succumbing to the onslaught of new mouths, was cowed, and attempted to turn away the warriors. However, it was too late, and he didn't have the forces to push them away. As his insistence that they leave increased, several conspirators among the burgeoning rebel army decided to eliminate the Hitap. A servant overheard the conspiracy and warned Pishatâtê, who attempted to flee his home with his family in the evening of April 2, 1813. They were captured by vêkimâ outriders as they fled and were executed by firing line that same night.

This break from the Law of the Warrior and the assassination of a Hitap forced the immediate hand of the government. For the first time, they marched a sizable contingent of their forces en masse against an enemy force. Rebel vêkimâ harried the marching army in guerrilla fashion while their forces dug in at Kunêshêktêmilu. However, when the Army arrived, the siege was fairly swift, lasting only four days. The vêkimâ and exile army were poorly equipped, and Pishatâtê's armory and stores had not been enough to heavily supplement their meager weapons and food stores. Outgunned, they broke apart under the government's assault and dispersed again into the forests and jungles, taking heavy losses in the process. The leaders of the rebel army, Kilu Shuâ Xâli and Hitap Têtê Ânup, agreed that surrender was their only option, and sent word to the government forces. However, the Sâtêp and the new 'uhitap, Hitap Kashatu Kêvât, believed that the rebels needed to be made an example to discourage further rebellion going forward. They turned down the peace offer and order the execution of all the rebels captured in the final assault on Kunêshêktêmilu. However, they quietly realized that the vêkimâ'at would continue to rebel over and over again in coming years if nothing was done, as their numbers now outstripped the need for them, given the reduction in local conflict. As such, they began discussing legislation that would reorganize wealth distribution for the vêkimâ'at.

The rebellion was forced to continue, albeit without a base of operations. What followed was a disorganized asymmetric conflict, with the rebels acting as guerrillas in the woods while being hunted by government forces. Occasionally, small groups would coalesce into larger forces and larger battles would break out, such as the Battle of the Lake and the Battle of Twenty Trees, but the rebellion was unable to win any major victories. They were slowly pushed back into the densest rainforest.

The rebellion had, by this point, realized there was no hope of victory, and any overture of surrender was bound to fail. The remaining vêkimâ were pushed back to Shima Hill where, in a final battle, Army troops under the command of Hitap Âspu Kikut outnumbered the rebels 60-to-1. However, Âspu was determined to leave nothing to chance. The government troops spent several days constructing an elaborate system of ditches, walls and obstacles to prevent another escape by the rebels. The government forces finally began their assault on Shima Hill on May 21, 1813. By 6 a.m. on May 22, only 40 rebels were still alive. Hitap Têtê Ânup was dead and Kilu Shuâ Xâli was severely wounded. Shuâ, despite his wounds, led the last of the rebels in one final charge. They drew their swords and plunged downhill toward the government positions and to their deaths. With these deaths, the Spring Vêkimâ'at Rebellion came to an end.

Opening Up and the Foreign Wave (1813 CE - 1830 CE)
Following the Spring Rebellion, the Sâtêp worked on overhauling the vêkimâ'at training system into a similar form as is seen today. At the same time, 'uhitap Kashatu dedicated himself to strengthening ties with foreign powers. Seeing the new era of ships that were sailing into ports, the 'uhitap became fascinated and wanted to expand the fledgling nation's own mercantile and naval power. Kashatu sent word out to many nations around the region, seeking shipbuilders to come to Mênna Shuli to teach. He offered great wealth and position to those who could aid in this regard, and foremost among those who took his deal was Rorickk Surhammr of Polar svalbard. Surhammr was brought to Mênna Shuli in late 1813, where he began teaching local scholars and artisans the modern methods of ship construction that he knew. By the end of 1814, he helped establish the Têhaêvu Shipyards, and a district of that city bears a Mênnization of his name to this day: Sulhâm.

'uhitap Kashatu opened up trade in other ways as well, allowing ships to pass into harbors in coastal cities other than Mihêkallu. Small enclaves of foreigners began to exist in coastal cities, although their spread into the heartlands of the country were still limited by law and custom. In addition, worship of foreign religions was highly suppressed at first. The priestly caste were adamant that foreign faiths be banned in Mênna Shuli, and 'uhitap Kashatu agreed. While he would allow foreigners to continue their worship in private, any gatherings of faithful or public declarations of faith were shut down and worshipers arrested.

This religious persecution was perhaps most visible in the crackdown on immigrants from Corindia. These Catholics were escaping similar persecution in their own nation, as they had been expelled for supporting Spain. Initially they set up an enclave in Kuhêtulka near the lower caste neighbourhoods, and began to practice their faith. One particular priest was caught proselytizing in public, drawing many vêkita'at, and sentenced to lashings under the charges of "illegal sermonizing", "public disruption", and "incitation of caste disruption". Unfortunately, the elderly priest died on the whipping block. This led to riots among the Corindi, which spilled over into low caste riots among the vêkita'at and undemployed vêkivêv'at and vêkimâ'at. The riots led to the Great Kuhêtulka Fire of 1818, and the Corindi immigrants were subsequently confined to a single district, which came to be known as Kurinikallu (Corindi Town), and which is, to this day, one of the poorest areas in Kuhêtulka. Meanwhile, settlers from Negarakita brought Islam into the nation.

Despite this, immigration began to trickle in, with foreign customs, goods and practices beginning to insinuate themselves into Mênnan cities. Known as the Foreign Wave (despite its relatively limited extent), this insertion of foreign custom into the nation would form the beginnings of Mênna Shuli's foreign connections and rivalries, many of which continue to this day.

Befitting 'uhitap Kashatu's somewhat contradictory nature as both a modernizer and traditionalist, his other great contribution to Mênna Shuli at this time was the foundation of its first Western-styled university. Ê Tihitap Mêxâ Shuhakallu (the Princely Academy of Shuhakallu), later to become the University of Shuhakallu, was built on the model of foreign universities, and was formally established in 1821. At first, the school was only available to vêhitap, but was opened to foreign scholarship a year after its establishment, and later to vêshuplishêkâ in 1824. Vêkinuxât were allowed to attend as of 1831, the same year the school's name was changed to the University of Shuhakallu. The school focused on historical studies, politics, law, linguistics, zoological research and architectural engineering, many of which it is still know for to this day.

Shukushuku Reformations (1830 CE - 1871 CE)
In 1830, a charismatic young vêhitap, Hitap Shukushuku Ashêtak, was elected to the Sâtêp. Shukushuku was (unlike most vêkivêlâ) young, idealistic, and not particularly wealthy or from a prestigious family line. Instead, Shukushuku had risen to power through her undeniable charisma and enthusiasm. She began pushing almost immediately for reforms to several major, isolationist and protectionist policies that still remained ingrained in the Mênnan political system. In addition, she pushed for a new tax structure, loosening of specific caste-specific regulations and limitations, and increased foreign involvement in development outside of simple trade.

Initially ignored and denigrated by her fellows in the Sâtêp, her political ideas began to catch on among the younger generation of the princely caste, who had been born into life as a unified nation and who had come to study foreign art, culture, history and so forth. Loosening of more traditional and rigid structures was seen as necessary by this particular generation, particularly as they saw the outside world speed forward through the Industrial Revolution, while Mênnan advancement was much more measured and shallow by contrast. Much of the country, even in the somewhat cosmopolitan cities, was not greatly changed from what it had been thirty years earlier.

It took several years for this support to grow into something efficient within the Sâtêp, but in 1833, Shukushuku saw the first of her major tax reforms enter into a vote on the floor, with support enough to pass. However, she had rivals that she did not have the influence to overcome: the 'uhitap's conservative advisors in the priesthood and judicial caste, and by extension the 'uhitap himself. The priestly caste had heard of Shukushuku's calls for a reduction of restrictions on foreign worship, which would limit their own influence. Meanwhile, the judges knew that she supported a more uniform legal code of conduct which would likewise limit their capacity to exert influence on the princely caste at a local level.

Shukushuku saw her first piece of major legislation stalled on the floor by a refusal by 'uhitap Kashatu to call it to vote. Refusing to be defeated so easily, Shukushuku stepped back and reassessed her political strategies. With the aid of several close friends and allies, she began to court the further support of the Sâtêp, and reached out to members of the vêkinuxât and vêshuplishêkâ who might be able to aid her goals. In addition, she took a more drastic step. Shukushuku knew that the power of the vêkinuxât and vêshuplishêkâ came primarily from their known influence over the merchant and worker castes. If she wished to limit the sway they held over the 'uhitap, she had to first undercut the source of their power. To do so, she announced her intent to legislate against a piece of tradition which had been codified into law during the first days of unfication: the Restriction of Caste Movement.

This was a step that was bound to undercut her efforts to strengthen ties with more traditional vêkivêlâ, but was also a necessity of Shukushuku wanted to progress forward in her political career. She was already three years into her first ten year term, and knew that without a win soon, she was unlikely to gain much ground. Furthermore, unlike some members of the Sâtêp who were content to remain silent and coast out their terms, she had made enough noise that a failure to succeed would be seen as a tremendous loss of prestige, and she would be likely to lose her seat when the time for reelection came up. Shukushuku had longer term plans, and refused to be stonewalled.

Her announcement kicked a hornet's nest. The vêkita'at, traditionally ignored and forgotten in political matters, seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Marches and displays in support of Shukushuku's calls against the Restriction swelled, and the army was called in several times to break them up. The vêkivêv'at, especially the richest merchants, began to leverage their vêhitap backers to support Shukushuku's policies. Members of both the priestly and judicial castes both saw that if they were to retain the respect accorded to them by the lower castes, they would at least have to make a show of supporting Shukushuku, or they would risk the ire of the mob. Fearing a more disastrous repeat of the Spring Vêkimâ'at Rebellion which had marred the beginning of his reign, 'uhitap Kashatu quietly allowed Shukushuku's original tax legislation to go to vote and succeed on the floor, hoping this would pull her leash.

Unfortunately, Shukushuku saw what the support of the lower castes was achieving for her, and was unwilling to so easily bend to the 'uhitap's whims. She continued to press her political goals, frequently giving speeches to gathered low-caste crowds to garner public and popular support. Calls for removal of the Restriction grew louder, and the government was beginning to fear a popular low-caste uprising. To limit the tensions, Shukushuku began to gather her allies in the Sâtêp, some of whom were members of the younger generation who adhered to her ideals, and offered them a new deal to assuage their fears.

The technology of steam-power was growing in other nations around the Isles, and Shukushuku saw the great potential in the technology to further unite the still disparate country and to enrichen those who controlled it. To this end, she secretly explained a new idea to her fellows in the Sâtêp, a plan which would greatly enhance their wealth. By creating a central organization within the government based on the standards of foreign companies, and placing members of the Sâtêp in charge, they had the potential to make vast sums of money.

This group reached out to trade partners in Verdon and offered a deal. The Sâtêp would offer a special deal for companies from Verdon to operate within Mênna Shuli, and in exchange, Verdon would underwrite the construction of Mênna Shuli's first rail-line, constructed by one of these companies to aid in their operations. They were successful in gaining the cooperation of the foreigners, and began to slowly convince others in the Sâtêp through a combination of diplomacy, bribery, blackmail and seduction. It was obvious that the matter would pass.

Unfortunately, an unexpected wrench would be thrown into their carefully crafted plans when the 'uhitap died in 1834. While on a pleasure cruise on the Ihwala Musê, the 'uhitap's yacht struck an unseen sandbar and tipped, tossing men overboard and trapping several underneath it. Unfortunately, that area of the river was known to be home to crocodiles of particularly large size and hunger, with folktales of animal hakêm haunting the place stretching back hundreds of years. Many of the men managed to swim to shore, but those trapped beneath the boat, including the 'uhitap, were devoured.

This threw all previous political maneuvering to the wind, as the focus now had to lay on attempting to encourage nomination of candidates helpful to Shukushuku's cause, aiding with their election, and helping them settle into the role before any further reforms could be made. Barring that, determining the new political landscape when the next 'uhitap was named, regardless of who it was, would be integral to everything going forward.

Initially, Shukushuku and her allies considered pushing for her own election, but felt that it was too early. Shukushuku had made a name for herself, but her respect among the upper-castes was nebulous. Instead, she and her allies landed on a more moderate candidate who could be convinced of their goals in the long term: Hitap Vikuhit Hêshi, an up-and-coming politico and dilettante who was popular among the foreign-styled feasts, dances and dinner parties of the richest business owners among the vêhitap'at that had recently come into favour.

Vikuhit was charismatic, well-spoken and intelligent, but was known to be somewhat lacking in his own opinions, instead parroting the opinions and beliefs of whichever foreign writer or historical poet had most recently taken his fancy. Shukushuku and her friends believed this propensity for rote memorization with little critical reflection would be useful to them.

Unfortunately, other opportunistic senators saw this as an opportunity to establish their own sway over a new 'uhitap, and so Shukushuku faced an uphill political battle that they didn't have the leverage to sway. Vikuhit's chances at the position collapsed before their eyes, and after the requisite mourning for Kashatu had been completed, Hitap Itpa Ishtu was named as his successor. The Mau Shuvihêwâ woman had connections back to Tuspêsêt, strongly traditional morals and an isolationist bent to her politics. She was not going to be swayed by Shukushuku and her political goals.

It rapidly became clear that Itpa was not going to serve Shukushuku or her allies' political goals, as she swiftly began reversing many policies put in place during the Foreign Wave. Foreigners were only allowed in specific districts of specific communities, trade was once again funneled purely through the hands of the merchant caste, and tax reforms began to be reversed, all through executive decree and bypassing the Sâtêp in many cases. Itpa retained the support of the older generation of politicians and began to pull in the support of the priesthood and judges, although with Shukushuku's influence over the mob, they were still hesitant to wholly back someone who was rolling back reforms that were lauded by the worker caste.

At first, Shukushuku sought political solutions, and let her legislative goals lie fallow. However, as forward movement in her goals stalled and reversed, Shukushuku sought more drastic measures, and in 1836, she and a group of co-conspirators initiated a plan: the assassination of 'uhitap Itpa.

It was well-known by this time that 'uhitap Itpa had a weakness for young lovers, particularly of the warrior caste. This wasn't particularly condemned, as developing harems of lower caste servants was not unheard of for unmarried individuals of the vêhitap'at, but it did provide Shukushuku and her allies a potential point of access. Utilizing their not inconsiderable resources, they managed to integrate their own agents into Itpa's harem. On the morning of March 3, 1836, a year and a half into her reign, 'uhitap Itpa was strangled to death in her bath by a vêkimâ'at lover, who was killed by fellow warriors before he could be questioned. It would not come out for nearly fifty years that this assassination had been completed at the orders of Shukushuku.

Thus began another election for a 'uhitap. Surprising even herself, her Mâupsâtê fellows nominated Shukushuku for the role. Despite having been prepared to back a different candidate, Shukushuku threw herself into campaigning amongst the Sâtêp. In secret, she nearly bankrupted herself in this campaign, taking on credit from merchant bankers and accepting loans from foreign creditors, but in the end, her natural charisma won through, and Shukushuku was elected as the fourth 'uhitap of Mênna Shuli. Thus began the true period of the Shukushuku Reformations.

She began by first reversing many of her predecessors decrees. Then came a period of purging. Many older vêkivêlâ who had stood against her came to meet with unfortunate accidents or passed away of minor health concerns that had rapidly grown serious. While rumours spread that these actions were Shukushuku's doing, no evidence was ever put forward and no charges laid. Shukushuku formed the first form of the Pride, the personal elite guards of the 'uhitap, who many believed acted as her personal enforcers and assassins among the Sâtêp. Even several of her former allies weren't safe, if they spoke out against her in those early days.

By 1839, this period of purging and enforcement calmed, and Shukushuku settled into the more peaceful, political entity she came to be known as for the rest of her reign. As she had promised years before, she began by rewriting the Restriction of Caste Movement. While some restrictions still existed on emigration, workers no longer required permission from their princely leaders to move from place to place, and city populations exploded as a result. To counteract the potential unrest this could cause, Shukushuku quietly expanded the military, drawing on the warrior training communities that had grown following the Spring Rebellion to provide more troops to maintain law and order.

Next, she followed through on her deal with Verdon. Verdonese companies expanded rapidly, and rail lines began to be laid, particularly to support a burgeoning business in rare lumbers from the rainforests. To control the new railroads, Shukushuku founded the first state-controlled company of Mênna Shuli, Xâhulitu' Lânu' Têmênna, the Mênnan Transportation Company, which she placed many of her chief supporters in the Sâtêp in direct control of. Soon thereafter, she founded Lânu' Mênna Kinnat, The People's News Company, which would later become LaMênna, and established the nation's first widely distributed newspaper. These companies, and others that would follow, would encourage vêkivêlâ to support Shukushuku in the hopes of being appointed to control boards, where they could feasibly greatly increase their wealth without breaking the rules of the Sâtêp regarding company ownership.

Shukushuku's rule as 'uhitap wound up lasting 35 years, and was marked by increasing modernization efforts and great popularity amongst the lowest castes. However, it also began to see the vast explosion of wealth among the princes without an accompanying boom in low-caste wealth. While the lowest castes did see their freedoms expanded, they didn't see as och of an expansion in opportunity.

Shukushuku allowed for a certain freedom of religion, and while 'unuxâ remains the state religion into the current day, worship of other religions in public and the development of temples has been protected ever since, with the exception of a period of fundemantalism in the 1920s. The greatest restrictions currently in place involve the rights of bodies and the dead. 'unuxâ traditions must be observed for all burials in Mênna Shuli, including observance of the Law of Decipherability, which has led to some friction amongst both Christians and Muslims.

Shukushuku died on April 17, 1871 at the age of 69 years old. She had outlived four husbands and had had eight children. Her last words were, reportedly, "I leave my children a legacy, but I leave my nation a history."

Time of Trials and the Keverai Expedition (1871 - 1891)
Following the death of Shukushuku, the stable system she had held up through the force of her personality had its foundations shaken. Over the next several years, the country would go through six different vê'uhitap as political rivals between warring bodies of the Sâtêp organized coups, counter-coups, assassinations and general political unrest in a bid to control the government of the nation. Immediately after Shukushuku was 'uhitap Kinikiw I (1871), an extreme tribalist, who sought to imitate the concept of provincialism or statehood seen in many other nations by creating permanent tribal territories with their own legislative capacities. Kinikiw was poisoned by his political rivals at a banquet six months into his rule, and was swiftly replaced by 'uhitap Ikash (1871-1876), a more moderate tribalist himself. Ikash was shot during a military parade on May 15 1876. Whether this was an accident or an organized assassination is debated to this very day.

Ikash was succeeded by 'uhitap Kinikiw II (1876-1880). Kinikiw II was a distant cousin of Kinikiw I, although their policies were extraordinarily different. Kinikiw II saw himself as a masterful military commander, and immediately set out to reorganize the military and leverage it in pursuit of his expansionist goals. Kinikiw II turned his eyes upon Keverai, that land's borders having long divided the east and west coasts of the Mênna's territories. Kinikiw II styled the nation against other imperial nations of the time, and believed in the capacity of the Mênnan state to take Keverai and perhaps expand from there. In August of 1879, he launched the Keverai Expedition, looking to conquer the land.

Unfortunately, Kinikiw II was not the military genius he believed himself to be. He had failed to take into account the political climate of Argus at the time of his invasion. As the Mênnan Army swept into Keverai, Dormill and Stiura turned their eyes towards Mênna Shuli, seeing the invasion as threat to their interests in the region. While the Mênnan Army made swift initial gains against the ill-prepared enemy, utilizing a strategy of overwhelming numbers and rapid cavalry strikes, Dormill and Stiura reached out to Ainslie, and the pair of nations swiftly sorted out a deal to deal with the Mênnan bluster.

The alliance of Ainslie and Dormill and Stiura launched a counter-invasion against Mênna Shuli, striking the ill-prepared an under-equipped nation from behind. Forced onto the back heel, Kinikiw II withdrew his forces from Keverai, but his reactionary responses and multitude of losses to every action of the enemy earned him the ire of the Sâtêp. In October of 1880, a coalition of vêkivêlâ rose up against him, backed by the 'uhitap's Pride. Kinikiw II was beheaded in before the people on October 3, 1880, and 'uhitap Hêsukat Kêvât, in a break from tradition, was named the next day. 'uhitap Hêsukat's first action in his role of leadership was to call for surrender against the enemy forces, and the war officially ended on October 15, 1880, with the signing of the Treaty of Mastukê. The treaty placed punitive reparations on the Mênnan people, which some historians continue to hold as the basis for the nation's current economic position.

The Starving Years (1880 CE - 1894 CE)
Following the failed Keverai Expedition, and facing reparations to Dormill and Stiura and Ainslie, Mênna Shuli faced a drastic period of depression. Known as the Starving Years, this period saw disease and famine spread widely across the nation, especially following the Corn Blight of 1883. By some estimates, three-quarters of the population faced starvation, and one-in-ten died as a result. Over a million deaths are believed to have resulted from the Starving Years.

'uhitap Hêsukat died as a result of a stress-induced heart attack in 1882, followed by 'uhitap Stâhak 'iktu, a descendant of the warlord Stâhak of the Unification Wars. 'uhitap Stâhak lasted in the role for a year, before abdicating after an injury from falling from horseback left him paralyzed from the waist down. Having had five leaders in nine years, the Sâtêp stepped in. After electing 'uhitap Lâsu' Êvât, the Sâtêp immediately began efforts to overhaul the process for selection from a mere majority vote to the current system of the two-thirds supermajority required to name an 'uhitap. The hope was that this would prevent political division that would lead to the rivalries and infighting that led to such a high turnover rate in the late 1800s. While this change served its intended purpose, it led to the new political reality of secret rivalries and backroom deals that were required for much of Mênna Shuli's government to function.

Despite the Treaty of Mastukê, relations between Mênna Shuli and it's enemies from the Expedition were far from settled. Minor skirmishes, both naval and on the ground, broke out with disturbing regularity, particularly when the reparation payments began to slow, or when Mênna Shuli saw it's rivals as infringing upon its territory. The continued hostilities between these sides escalated into the 1890s, and in 1894, war reignited.