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The peoples of Themakis, the Themakeis, maintain that they’ve inhabited their coastal lands since long before the people of today’s May’Kar settled the Ukor River. This is not a fact that the Dominion argues against- by all accounts, their ancestors arrived via the gulf along May’Kar’s northwestern border, which they call the Koipodean Sea, and have spent much of their history as a small nation unto themselves.

The May’Kar Dominion did not learn about the Themakeis directly, only by inference through discussions with Mushalee traders and others who had dealings with them. Eventually, though, the Register hired a navigator that was familiar with the region, and sent a group of surveyors to collect what info they could and report back. When they returned, they described a beautiful land, nearly as lush as the banks of the river, and a people on the brink of collapse.

A generation prior, the waters of the Koipodean began to recede from the shore over the course of a day. By the time the sun was setting, they rushed back in a great flood which tore through coastal and island communities. The wave destroyed homes, harbors, and markets. It drowned fields, ripped the stones from the streets, and shattered ships. Many people died not only in the initial event, but also in the aftermath of disease and famine, and their weak position made them ripe targets for raiders looking to glean what was left.

The May’Kar yazi assigned Themakis an algarad, who arrived with a nur of soldiers under their command, and wagons of tools and materials. They immediately set to work, establishing an outpost near the coast and beginning to rebuild infrastructure, drain farmlands, and bring food and medical relief to the people.

The project was an immense success, and over the next decade, the Themakeis soon found themselves resembling their former selves. And then the algarad attempted to secure tribute for the Dominion.

From the Themakeis perspective, this was a great betrayal. They were in need, their neighbor came to them on a humanitarian mission, and was now trying to extort them and claim sovereignty over them.

From the algarad’s perspective, the region was an investment. They had pulled in many favors to secure the relief materials for the Themakeis, and had even drained their own personal coffers to fund the effort. Now they were very overdue to meet their quotas, and would be replaced if they couldn’t.

Negotiations were more or less successful, at first. May’Kar began to receive its tribute, Themakis began to economically thrive once more, and a tense peace was established. Over the decades though, the region was reassessed, and deemed to be too large and prosperous to be considered a single province, and was continuously broken down into more and more algari, each with their algarad.

Today, the crown’s relationship with the Themakic algari is multifaceted and complex. Some have been cooperative, finding opportunity and sometimes even purpose in being a part of the Dominion. Others have continued to advocate for their independence, sometimes through outright rebellion, though only the smallest island communities can be said to be truly independent.They operate under vastly different conditions, with some being left mostly to local leadership and minimal oversight, and others being under ongoing martial law.

In contrast to the remote management that many algari enjoy, the Dominion exerts more direct control over Themakis. Its capital city, Akistokos, has had its leadership replaced entirely, and it operates much like a Ukorate city-state. The surrounding provinces are still assigned algarad who extract tribute from them, but that process is more local and centralized than is the case elsewhere in the desert.

Themakis is of incredible economic import to May’Kar. Its access to the ocean alone, and therefore to sea trade, is an enormous boon. But even absent this, the natural resources of Themakis opened up opportunities for the Dominion that it never had before. Wine, olive oil, honey, and seafood were previously rare along the river, but were now made accessible to the working class as well as the elites, and have since become staples of May’Kar cuisine.

The Themakic people are great city-builders. Rather than being centralized around a single state or crown, their communities are structured around city centers built for community use. Cities are places for education and the arts. The average Themakic citizen has a strong foundation in fields like mathematics, astronomy, philosophy, and theology, with multiple options available for those pursuing greater learning.

Entertainment is an abundant amenity within these cities. Public performances are commonplace, making use of stages and parks built with them in mind, and are often sponsored by public figures and other nobles. Some troupes have become internationally notable, and are sought out by visitors from far away lands, while others are hired to travel and perform abroad.

The ocean is at the heart of Themakic society. During the day, fishing boats fill the coastal horizon, and large seafaring vessels carry goods for import and export. Smaller ships ferry people back and forth between the mainland and the many smaller island communities that make up Themakis as a whole. In the winter and spring, rain supplied by evaporating seawater is common, thoroughly hydrating even the areas not immediately on the shore.

One of the arts that Themakis is most famous for is glassmaking. The oldest known eyeglasses in Faedrun are of Themakic make, and glasswares are one of their common exports. Shortly after their introduction to the Dominion, a guild of glassmakers began to develop larger lenses in a joint effort with Ukorate craftspeople, which ultimately resulted in the development of telescopes, with which to view the stars.

Astronomy has always been valued among the Themakic. Knowledge of the movement of the heavens is essential for navigation upon the sea. A great observatory was built in Akistokos, so that anyone who wished could see the stars. As arcane scholars were able to observe them in greater detail, however, they began to notice patterns between these stars and their magics, leading to the development of a new discipline of study.

These star-mages are called chymeria, and much of their work is dedicated to the collection of various kinds of starlight, and the investigation and documentation of the influences of celestial objects on magic in its various forms of expression. The greatest of the chymerion are said to be able to, when everything is aligned correctly, set in motion unlikely events, which conspire to influence the future for years to come. Some Ukorate Princes are known to regularly give patronage to chymerion schools, in the hopes of procuring good fates for themselves.

Some of the Themakic algari have become integrated into the Auxiliaries, large in two regiments: The first is the Kaftaris, skilled sailors who make up the vast majority of the Dominion’s naval presence. They’re most often leased out to merchants to act as escorts, and are seen as a relatively unprestigious regiment by other career soldiers due to their limited use in military operations. The second is the Oikrates, a regiment of military engineers who have crafted and operated some of the most reliable siege weapons used by May’Kar.

The Themakic people have a complex web of faiths that they collectively refer to as the Thelatroi, which consists of many different gods which are worshiped by different people at different times. These various gods have relations to one another, stories of their deeds, and virtues which they promote in their followers. In all of these cases, the beliefs tend to be localized to different communities, with different communities having totally contradictory beliefs regarding the same figures. Two different clerics can seemingly draw power from the same god, despite having nearly opposite beliefs about who that god is. This has been endlessly confusing to the Mahsai, who previously legitimized the worship of several of these gods before realizing the depth of the Thelatroi in its entirety, and has since had a great deal of its resources locked up in trying to draw lines between its myriad different modes.

In the western mountains that line the edge of the Dominion, in a narrow band of land between rocky hills and stony peaks, live the Gölkiyde. Here, evergreen forests thrive, sustained by the little rain that makes it over the mountains. At these higher altitudes, the temperature cools, leading to some of the mildest summers and coldest winters in the region. The people who live here are among the very few who can say they’ve seen snowfall within May’Kar lands.

Like many of the people living within the desert, the Gölkiyde follow the movement of the seasons. In the summer, when the snow and frost melts from highland meadows, their herders bring their goats, yaks, and camels upwards to pasture. Here, they dwell in lodges that sit empty for the rest of the year, and hunt and forage from the surrounding lands. To communicate across the greater distances in these lesser-populated areas, they whistle in a song-like form of their own language.

In the winter, when the cold is at its worst, they instead descend into the foothills, which they’ve terraced into grain fields of barley and millet and fruit orchards of apricots, walnuts, and pomegranates. Their towns here are walled and fortified- the first line of defense against raiders- and see a swell in visits from visitors and traders. Seasonal workers come here to help with the harvest, and many visit to participate in festivals and religious occasions.

It’s not quite accurate to say that the Gölkiyde are nomadic. Their settlements dot the mountainside at all heights, and most are permanent and inhabited year-round. Only some move during the year, and only as their professions demand it. Generally, these travelers end up having two places they call home, and some even end up having two families.

The coniferous forests that the Gölkiyde live among are the most abundant sources of hardwood found across the Dominion. The Gölkiyde make great use of their lumber in both their architecture and their arts. Their homes are often multistory and compact, taking advantage of small areas of relatively flat building ground. They’re skilled woodcarvers, creating intricately detailed works, both in their functional and decorative pieces. Even a simple door might have elaborate and complex carvings set into its face. They’ve developed advanced joining techniques as well, with some of their buildings standing without a single nail or bit of adhesive holding it together. May’Kar buys a great deal of lumber from the Gölkiyde each year, as well as some of these works, but only a rare few carpentry masters have been able to make as good use of the materials as the ones who harvested it.

Gölkiyde clothing is fairly distinct from what’s worn in other regions of May’Kar. They commonly wear layers of wool clothing, which is often felted and dyed in dark blue and green hues. In the colder seasons, this is further supplemented with cloaks and hats that pull down over the ears. The vast majority of their wool comes from their yaks and camels, and different parts of their coats are made into different articles of clothing with different properties, with the warmest and softest pieces being made from the down innercoat of the yak. These goods find little use in other parts of the Dominion, but fetch high prices from foreign merchants. Their clothing is also often accented with jewelry made from silver, turquoise, and agate.

The highlands are where many of the Gölkiyde holy sites can be found. Their faith, Tanuyu, unusually uniform across the various groups of the Gölkiyde, is devoted to a great god, Tan, who lives in the sky. As such, the most sacred places to Tanuyu followers are those in the highest places. The local maxima of the high ridges that overlook surrounding areas, but especially the peaks of the tallest mountains. Many of these places become sites of piety for the Tanuyu, between small temple sites for worship and offerings, and funeral sites where revered dead are taken to be devoured by birds. These sites are often in remote and sometimes dangerous locations, and so pilgrimage to them is considered a pious and commendable act.

One thing that sets Tanuyu apart from many other faiths in Faedrun and especially within the May’Kar Dominion is that it is a firmly monotheistic one. To its followers, Tan is not only the supreme god, but also the only god. All other allegedly divine figures are either fakes, or are sheygya. The term means ‘demon’, but has a more complex meaning within the mythology of the faith.

According to the Tanuyu, when the universe was young and unformed, Tan began to set order from chaos. While his power was vast and incomparable, there were many small things that needed to be done while he handled the greatest deeds like separating the earth’s mountains from its valleys. To assist him in these smaller tasks, he created the sheygya to assist him. Each one was given a task and a fragment of Tan’s power with which to complete it. But many of these sheygya became derelict in their duties, and some of them even rebelled and found mortals to extract worship from, tricking them into thinking that they were gods of Tan’s equal.

May’Kar agents working with Tanuyu followers are advised to be careful in their word choice when speaking of the gods and spirits of other faiths. Denying the supremacy of Tan, or implying that he is merely one of many, can lead to offense and even hostilities. The Mahsai have begrudgingly legitimized the Tanuyu faith due to the sheer economic advantages that positive relationships with the Gölkiyde have to offer.

In the eastern reaches of the Dominion, where shrubland gives way to endless fields of golden grass, live the Yewuan. They’re never particularly difficult to spot: They’re usually accompanied by great herds of horse, sheep, and goats, and have mounted sentries that guard these herds from the periphery.

The Yewuan are pastoralists. Much of their way of life is dedicated to the movement and management of their flocks. These flocks are the source of some of their most essential resources: Food, milk, wool, hides, and in the case of their horses, mobility. The animals graze from the grasses of the plains, and when that grass begins to deplete, the Yewuan move on.

This movement takes the Yewuan east in the summer, when the desert becomes even hotter and more unbearable, and west in the winter, when frost and snow begins to make the territories bordering Richtcrag difficult to move and graze in. To facilitate this movement, they bring with them large wool-covered communal tents that can easily be set up and torn down, but they also have permanent settlements at the extremes of their journey where up to a quarter of their people reside.

There are multiple Yewuan groups called adukar, which follow parallel paths in and out of the desert. Raids between and within adukar are common (as is raiding on other groups in the area), though relatively bloodless, with the primary objective being the seizure of herd animals. As imbalances in power emerge between nearby groups, some might pledge loyalty and tribute to each other in exchange for peace and even protection. Hierarchies among the Yewuan are complex webs that seemingly contradict themselves when viewed from afar.

The Yewuan are collectively bound by their religious law, referred to as the Tsukor, which is also the term that the Register has assigned as the name of their faith. The Tsukor is highly prescriptive about how the Yewuan must live, both as individuals and as communities. It covers in great detail matters of diet, dress, animal care, marriage, trade, justice, inheritance, and battle, and has different prescriptions for situations involving only Yewuan, and situations involving outsiders.

For an individual, violating the Tsukor means harsh punishment, usually of a physical nature. The most severe crimes are punished by death. For those crimes of a particularly sacrilegious nature, exile is common, for a period of up to seven years. This exile is from the whole of the Yewuan. After one returns from exile, they are considered spiritually cleansed and are welcomed back into their adukar.

For a larger group, violating the Tsukor means no longer being protected by it, and inviting the wrath of the Yewuan. Raids are not just for stealing from the flock, but also for retributive killing and the taking of slaves. In the most extreme cases, an adukar will be picked clean of its people and its herds. Slaves taken this way are protected by the Tsukor, which goes so far as to define their rights and the conditions under which they are to be treated. They are made to work as a form of spiritual rehabilitation, much like exile. After a period of time, they’re either returned to their adukar if it still exists, or adopted into the adukar that took them if it doesn’t.

These conditions keep the various adukar on relatively good terms with each other- the Tsukor ensure that everyone is ‘playing fair’, with raids being seen as a natural part of the general struggle for influence and prestige. Those that wish to abstain from this struggle entirely find homes for themselves on the permanent settlements at the east and west ends of their adukar’s grazing range.

When dealing with foreign hostile powers, the Yewuan act as a single confederation, united under a leader called the adukan. The adukan is responsible for coordinating the rest of the adukar against their common enemy, but their power begins and ends at collective defense.

In protracted conflicts, warriors will be organized into groups of up to twenty, will be given general orders, and are set free to carry out those orders however they see fit. Yewuan warriors take advantage of the speed of their horses, cutting down their enemies either with long, curved bronze blades, or with expertly fired shots from their longbows. They excel at harrying forces much larger than their own, waging wars of attrition with their superior mobility. Their prowess has led to bands of them being hired by various eastern Richtcrag powers, and they’ve been inducted into the Dominon’s Auxiliaries under the banner of the Yewuan Irechem, which is exclusively cavalry.

The herders and warriors of the adukar are the glue that hold their wide-spanning peoples together, and a major responsibility of theirs is transporting goods and materials during their seasonal travels, to balance the needs of their satellite communities. At the same time, these towns and villages work tirelessly using what resources they have. They farm hardy crops that persist in the dry climate. They work forges to produce tools, weapons, and armor for their people. When the herds return to them, entire communities come together to butcher and preserve the animals selected for slaughter.

These settlements are the main point of contact between the Yewuan and the May’Kar Dominion, as well as other traders, providing them with a permanent place to meet and discuss matters. The Yewuan grant hospitality here to those who approach them in good faith, even among those they would normally battle with upon the plains. They give a token tribute to the Dominion in the form of fine animal hides, a symbolic arrangement made for the sake of their algarad, but they receive far more in return, paid by the crown for peace and protection for traders moving through the region.

The Yewuan are skilled architects. Their tents and homes are built from very little, making the most out of lumber purchased from outsiders. Their temples, on the other hand, are great and extravagant, made from stone blocks that have been meticulously cut to perfect size and fitted together. Some temples have been found that are so ancient that the people that built them have been gone for centuries, but they still stand tall. In times of danger, the temples also serve as castle-like fortifications, allowing the villagers to wait for invaders to lose enthusiasm or for help to arrive.

When time allows for it, they weave elaborate colorful rugs and tapestries, which are laid within and hung upon their homes, respectively. These woven works are artistic expressions, but also often encode personal and communal history, elements of the Tsukor, and other personally and culturally significant objects and figures. Some are made specifically to be sold to the Dominion, where they fetch a high price, but most are made either for personal use or for symbolic gifts, given to loved ones, leaders, or sometimes, enemies.

The Tsukor acknowledges two gods: Khiidur and Salach. They represent the duality of the earth and the sky. Khiidur is a masculine figure of earth, soil, and stone. The Yewuan temples are built from his bones, and dedicated to him, and are a symbol of his strength and protection. Salach is a feminine figure of the winds, sky, and flame. She has no temples, because she is the thing that cannot be contained, but many offerings are committed to her in high and open spaces.

According to the Tsukor, all things that are, were made by Khiidur and Salach in isolation. Khiidur made the earths of the world, the waters that sit upon it, the metals that dwell within it, and more. And Salach made the skies, the winds that blow through it, the sun and the moon, the birds, and the stars, and yet more as well.

But when they came together, they saw that there were things that could only be made through the union of their arts, and this created three things: The first are the grasses, which grow from the earth but sway in the wind. The second is the horse, and earth-bound creature that nonetheless flies across the ground with the speed of a bird and the spirit of thunder. The third is the Yewuan themselves, the chosen people of the gods, who are uniquely suited to dwell within the space that so clearly marks their divine union.

Where Saresh sits at the head of the Ukor River, Tsamir lays at the tail. It’s one of the southernmost Ukorates in the May’Kar Dominion. When it was a city-state in the days before the Kingdom of Saresh, it was one of the greatest victims of the large-scale pollution of the river, and pestilence had nearly wiped it out.

Having gone through a brutal period of recovery, Tsamir emerged with a culture of resilience and innovation, one that sought to end the material conditions that made it dependent on the practices of the people living further north. When the Habbatt began to put a stranglehold on the rest of the Ukor, they began to develop technologies and practices to care for their water on their own terms, and their relatively remote location allowed them to hold out against royal forces that sought to punish them for their disobedience.

Today, Tsamir is flourishing. The engineering tools and techniques they developed have become the standard throughout the Ukor and even in certain algar. Their greatest export is expertise, which they have had great success in selling to their neighbors and to the crown, and they’re also known for their advances in alchemy, medicine, and metallurgy.

Tsamir is home to some of the largest educational institutions in Faedrun, collectively called the Kathfunza. The Kathfunza were originally funded by the Prince, and enrollment was free to prospective talented individuals, on the condition that they spend a period after graduation working on behalf of the city, or else tithe a portion of their earnings. Today, people from across the Dominion and beyond buy their way in with great sums of coin, but assessment tests are still issued, and seats are still set aside, to find prospective students that otherwise might not be able to afford to attend.

The province has a special arrangement with the crown, allowing it to operate with less oversight and fewer restrictions than is typical of a Ukorate. The argument was originally made that Tsamir’s southern position minimized the impact of its industry and innovation on the river, and any developments it made would ultimately serve the rest of May’Kar. As a result, Tsamir has no magistrate, and the presence and influence of the Mahsai within it is significantly reduced, though not eliminated. Tsamir is also under no obligation to provide conscripts to the crown, but does bear one of the greatest tax burdens in the Dominion.

The lands and waters near Tsamir are home to an incredible diversity of plant and animal life, created through Ukor distributaries which result in wetlands and even marshes depending on conditions like the movements of the river and changing of the seasons. Careful management of these lands, and the research of the organisms found within them, has led to countless innovations in medicine and alchemy. Some of these lands have even become repurposed as large wet farms, fisheries, and aviaries, supplied by cisterns in the dry seasons so they can continue to produce year-round.

In the deepest parts of the desert, caught equally far from the forested mountains of the west, the lush coast of the north, and the Ukor River itself, a city gleams. This city of Mushalee. Surrounded by cracked earth, sandy soil, and little more than bare patches of shrubs, Mushalee is nonetheless called the City That Knows No Thirst.

Mushalee owes its survival to the large oasis that sits in its heart. The water that bubbles up from it, from seemingly deep within the earth, is fresh and pure, and though it isn’t endless, it replenishes quickly enough that there’s rarely been any need to ration it.

The Mushalee oasis is far enough from other major sources of water that they’ve had little to fear from an attack- any enemy sieging them would perish of thirst long before they broke down the city’s defenses. The Mushalee people have taken great advantage of this. Before becoming a proper part of the Dominion, much of their wealth came from plunder, the spoils of raids conducted on their neighbors, especially the Themakeis to their north. The Mushalee were feared for their hit-and-run tactics, and they were able to exert themselves and their horses much harder than their targets could.

In addition to raiders, the Mushalee people are skilled astronomers, cartographers, herbalists, navigators, traders, and logisticians. Their star charts have fundamentally changed the way that May’Kar travels the desert at night. They have always had complex relationships with the peoples around them that were as often collaborative as they were antagonistic, and in some cases have even been seen as peacekeepers in the area. Integration with the Dominion has changed little about this, it’s just added overhead in the form of taxation and new laws to be followed.

When Mushalee’s first algarad made contact and attempted to establish relations with its people, it went surprisingly well. Mushalee’s successes had made it grow, and it was nearing the limits of what it could provide for itself without senselessly increasing its attacks on its neighbors. Sensing an opportunity to capitalize on the Dominion’s need for an outpost, the city quickly positioned itself as a gateway into the rest of the desert: A place for travelers, traders, diplomats, and soldiers to replenish themselves before moving on. They paid their tithe in salt, harvested from nearby flats, which was abundant enough to be of little value in hoarding to them, but was in high demand along the Ukor.

The Mushalee warriors found themselves a natural fit amongst May’Kar’s Auxiliaries, and the Mushalee Boluk is one of the most well-decorated of its Auxiliary regiments to this day. They’re often hired as desert escorts, bodyguards, and even occasionally as translators. Their cavalry still maintains their martial tradition of hit-and-run tactics, which have continued to prove themselves effective, but also prompted their detractors to accuse them of being deserters-in-waiting.

Mushalee’s reputation today with its neighbors is mixed. Some still bear the scars of repeated raids, others are much happier to have trade partners and have let generations of relative peace smooth things over. The Mushalee people have used their relatively prominent position within the Dominion as a bit of a cudgel, at times, to fend off those seeking to address past grievances. Regardless, the city finds itself with visitors of many different cultures and creeds, and has become something of a small cosmopolitan hub for the surrounding algari.

Beyond the city itself, Mushalee once had farmlands that grew millet and a few other hardy crops to sustain itself. Now, much of its food is imported from the heart of the Dominion, and these farms have become absorbed as the city expanded. This has put them in a tenuously dependent position on May’Kar, which has begun to undermine the leverage they have in the desert.

As with many in May’Kar, there is no singular faith that can be attributed to the Mushalee people, or even one ‘Mushalee people’ in the first place. The Register has catalogued four distinct belief sets, though only one of which has been legitimized by the Mahsai.

That faith is the Malihtaan, which holds that the original settlers of the Mushalee oasis, which they claim descent from, were once seafarers upon a great ocean, until sin caused the waters to be drained away, leaving the world’s oceans where they are now. Their myths say that they have been called to this oasis due to their ancient kinship with water, that regardless of the sin of the world beyond, this water shall be theirs to keep.

One of the faiths that has not gotten similar acceptance is the Behayiid, which was once quite prominent among the Mushalee but has since fallen greatly in favor. Followers of this faith recognize and worship Behayeh, a god of strategy and tactics, who is claimed to be the source of brilliant inspiration both on and off the battlefield. Behayiid warriors nonetheless find themselves in good company in the Auxiliaries, and a few have famously (or infamously) had success in the Army, with more than one nurad dedicating their victories to Behayeh.