Overview
The Deadbeats have a deep history of fragmentation. The current existence of /morig/ as a nation is remarkable when you consider its history fraught with infighting between different groups, religious corruption and elitism, defectors, blasphemous scholars who would vandalize sacred libraries, depraved scripture revisionists, and those who would doubt the goddess’ love, on top of facing near-constant invasion over the course of several generations from those seeking to destroy the goddess for perceived transgressions against the pantheon. Adherence to the faith is the sole unifying factor for many Deadbeats and what’s owed to the current stability of the nation. The differentiation in thoughts and attitudes that continue to exist among the people to this day as well as their personal edicts towards individualistic self-discipline contribute to the system of government in /morig/ being one that is incredibly loosely-defined.
The Council of Threes (so named due to its members all simultaneously and curiously proclaiming themselves as the Third Strongest Deadbeat; notably, the seat and title of Strongest Deadbeat exists, but is absent and reserved for the so-called unborn child of the goddess), technically exists as a pseudo-parliamentary body, but its members do not represent political parties or pointed interests, thus leading to relatively little actual governing to be done. Seldom is the Council invoked to enact executive decisions regarding internal affairs, as civil disputes are often self-contained, though they do unite to handle diplomacy with other nations and send delegates to Unity Island in /hlgg/. The people, meanwhile, function comfortably with what laws and regulations they do have. Merchants enjoy their independent ventures and the people are mostly content.
This laissez-faire approach to governance extends to the military matters of the island as well in that, technically, there is no formal standing military. There is only independent warriors tirelessly improving themselves, occasionally called upon by the Council to attend to certain militaristic matters. Due to the sheer scope and demand for manpower for the task, the closest thing to an organized military in /morig/ would be its navy. Most /morig/ naval vessels tend not to be large, but being built similarly to the vessels of the independent merchants, they are plentiful in number, famously swift, and crewed by highly experienced sailors. These sailors agree to report anything of note to members of the professional Deadbeat Navy using a ocean-wide messenger bird network and to provide assistance when needed. For more serious events, similarly sized but better armed ships crewed by trained soldiers and receiving orders from the Admiralcy are always patrolling the Holo Ocean and ready to head towards points of interest, intercept suspicious vessels, or conduct rescue missions. Finally, the small but cutting edge core of the /morig/ navy, the Black Fleet, receives instructions solely from the Goddess Faithful and the Council of Three, and even then the organization retains some independance, and remains fully voluntary. Trained and equipped to the highest standard available to /morig/, the Black Fleet can sometimes be fragmented in the philosophies of the Admirals, but they're always united in their loyalty to the Island. Forming a bulwark of the South Holo Sea, /morig/ honors longstanding agreements to protect itself and its neighbors from barbarians and pirates. Skirmishes at sea are commonplace and campaigns are long, though considering the naval force is essentially made entirely of volunteers, they dedicate themselves to their work heartily. The Council is capable of mobilizing the country to war, but the reality is that /morig/ is by and large uninterested in conquest; defense of the homeland, meanwhile, is something already deeply entrenched in the ideology of the nation.
Staging an invasion of /morig/ is generally considered to be incredibly ill-advised without multiple contingency plans or sheer tactical brilliance, as the island is prepared to weaponize itself at a moment’s notice, all its inhabitants prepared to fight to the last to defend the realm of their goddess. Musketeers and imposing, heavily armored warriors with their trademark onyx-colored javelins fiercely defend the shores, determined to drive countless more black stakes into the sand to decorate the enduring graveyards. Beyond the beaches, invaders find entire port towns and marketplaces eerily abandoned and cold, their visibility hindered by streets and alleyways blanketed in a shield of odd smoke. Without precaution, a soldier who remains too long and breathes too deep will start to find his mind fading; at which point, a peddler, only yesterday laughing cheerfully while selling his wares, emerges unnoticed from behind his stall, silently brandishing a blade and donned in his Death Mask, seeking to take down as many as he can. Civilians fight with improvised weapons and lob perfume bottles filled with the debilitating smoke onto unsuspecting ranks of infantry from second-story windows. Troubadours chime their ominous bells in the distance to serve as diversions, rallies, and signals, furthermore unnerving enemies with their cacophony in otherwise dreadful silence. More armored warriors with their heavy weapons stalk the city streets. The entire country becomes covered in fog, engaged in brutal guerilla warfare.
Deep within, the temple stronghold of the Goddess Faithful at the outskirts of the Underworld doubles as the final bastion against those who seek to invade the mountain sanctuary and home of the goddess. The shrine maidens who reside there, whose duties are as groundskeepers of the temple complex and the sanctuary, also act as the final line of defense to those who seek to desecrate /morig/’s holy grounds. They are just as formidable as the highest echelon of warriors, their skills tailored to stealth and assassination. They will fight and kill until there are none left or they die on the temple grounds, in the deep forest under the cherry trees, or traversing up the mountain path. Whatever remains will have to brave the challenge at the summit.
/Morig/ or deadbeat island is an unusual place. It is filled with traders from all places be they hololive, Niji , Vshojo or Indie. A place where many come to proselytize and shill their chosen chubba patron. The Island being outside of the protective hololive core is often raided by degenerates and schizos. The degenerate's cries for feet, futa and punishment ring loud while the schizos plead their blasphemous rrates against the island chosen patron Mori Calliope, the musical lady of death. The lady of death is surprisingly kind to her followers, affectionately referring to them as "Her Deadbeats". She provides comfort and warm to the wayward souls that find themselves on island. Deadbeats are divided between three groups. The schizo among them whos inherent weakness erupts almost spontaneously. The truly devoted whos loyalty to their dark lady is without end. Finally the fickle, the deadbeats who when times are though on the island either though famine or raiding emigrate to safer more stable locations but when times are great find themselves returning. The islands religions ceremonies are held in underworldian hot springs something unique to the island. Colours of red and pink are surprisingly what decorates the dark ladies chosen priests and priestess, being her favourite colours. The island lacks a military large enough to protect it in times of trouble but though the strength and guile of its warriors it is able to maintain some influence over the greater hololive collective
/morig/ has a reputation worldwide for being a nation of merchants. Indeed, sailors and traders to moor at one of the island’s many ports can attest to the hustle and bustle, but perhaps the most striking takeaway from the experience of the nation’s port town markets is how improbably vast the selection of wares is. In addition to local products, consisting overwhelmingly of creative efforts such as music, recreation, and the visual arts, one can find numerous stalls featuring wares and other trinkets from all around the globe. The local merchants and other peddlers are known for being jovial and hospitable, which many first-time foreign visitors often remark as being odd and contrary to the grisly reputation surrounding the nation and its inhabitants. They are often very well-traveled and will happily regale interested customers with stories of their worldly endeavors spanning every continent, even speaking highly of just about every other deity and community they’ve encountered while encouraging a visit of their own, though they are also quick to affirm they are unquestionably devoted to the patron deity of the land. Fishing enjoys a thriving culture.
One must nevertheless watch their tongue when speaking to the bony denizens of the island, as even the smallest offhand mention of a short list of topics can alight something darkly primal and hostile behind the eyes of even the most cheerful seller.
The legends of the old /hlgg/ pantheon are known the world over, as it was their induction, after all, which was so instrumental in the genesis of the world we inhabit to begin with. The goddess of /morig/, twice disgraced, damned in the eyes of some and treated as an omen of disaster, is nevertheless worshiped as a benevolent and kind patron deity and revered for her beauty and song.
There exists an ancient, low-altitude (probably) dormant volcano, which is considered the holiest site on the island and the home of the goddess. Since ages past, the black earth and volcanic metals were harvested and used to construct buildings and tools. The mountain itself and the area surrounding it, inexplicably cooler in temperature and filled with famously beautiful cherry trees, is devoid of any inhabitants. Just below the summit, there is a single shrine, which is the residence of the goddess. There exists a legend in which the volcano is prophesied to erupt, bringing Death and covering the entire world in ashen sakura petals. Local superstition also tells a tale of a hole in the sky opening up above the mountain, through which a blue bird descends to speak unspeakable things. Talk of this legend is met with heavy ridicule by the locals, though it has in turn led to more rumors of underground cults who insist that the denizens of /morig/ in fact worship a demon. Even still, there are additional rumors that, unbeknownst, the goddess walks among the people.
The scars of civil war are not lost on deadbeats, nor are the memories of countless barbarian invasions spanning generations. Passersby on trade vessels on a clear day may be able to spy the beaches, never too far from port, lined with the rotting, hollowed-out carcasses of centuries-old warships, which remain undisturbed since their destruction, as well as the several dozens, if not hundreds, of javelins, many rusted by blood and age, that decorate the solemnly quiet shores like obsidian stakes of gruesome execution, stuck in the sand as an everlasting symbol and reminder to the world and the island nation’s inhabitants. The turbulent diplomatic history of /morig/ with its allies has possibly stereotyped the nation one of unstable isolationists, but the decomposing shards of eggshell on the shores may paint another, more unified picture.
In addition to the merchant caste of deadbeats, there is also the warrior caste. The upper echelons of their rank, though sparse in number, are considered quite mighty. All inhabitants are taught from a young age the basics of war, as well as the ultimate fate of all deadbeats. Those considered too brittle of bone or fickle of mind are treated as outcasts, and, in their discontent, often travel to other lands for asylum, usually in search of sympathy or else more chaos. Due to self-discipline, and perhaps their own bloody history, the deadbeats of /morig/, commercial and warrior alike, are largely immune to the False Flag psychological warfare weapons and other agents that were endemic during the wars in the twilight hours of the /jp/ era. The warriors of /morig/ train tirelessly, whether for defense of their homeland or heated competition with one another, though all skeletons have the same end goal in mind: to ascend to that shrine on the mountaintop and win the goddess’ favor, at the cost off all others who tried and failed along the way.
Marketplace
The bustling port town marketplaces of /morig/ are world famous for the sheer variety of goods that are traded there. You can find numerous wares there that are unseen anywhere else on the Holo-continent. As far as local exports, there is a thriving fishing culture. Fresh sushi is prepared and sold every day in the markets, helped along by the inland rice terraces. There is a friendly rivalry between the fishers and mongers of /morig/ and those of maritime allies /wah/ and /mep/ for their shared passion of the sea harvests. Perhaps the most famous and sought after export of /morig/ is its wine, said to be among the highest quality in the land and backbone of a very particular drinking culture on the island. The island's climate makes it ideal for the horticulture of grapes and other berries, including strawberries. There is also the anomalous cherry trees that grow in the sanctuary surrounding Mt. Mori, which are exceptionally delicious. Harvests from these trees (as well as oversight of the area) is strictly overseen by the Goddess Faithful. Outsiders are unwelcome, and anyone caught trying to pick from the trees unbeknownst is severely punished.
Biological Anthropology of the Deadbeat
The inhabitants of /morig/, the deadbeats, are physically quite an odd specimen when compared to the human and semi-human inhabitants of /vt/. /hlgg/ Empire physicians have autopsied deadbeats and found that perhaps unsurprisingly their bones are incredibly dense and strong.
The explanation for this is of interest. Deadbeat bone seems to be highly mineralized for one; where a standard human bone may contain 60 to 70% of minerals by weight, deadbeat bone contains up to 80%. Mineralization is normally accomplished through the deposition of calcium phosphate, while deadbeat bone is found to contain a large fraction of biologically synthesized iron oxyhydroxide, or goethite. The mineral is organized as nanofibers weaved through the porous structure of the bones parallel to the major stress axes, granting remarkable toughness to the material. The folk legend that deadbeats have bones of steel may have begun when a deadbeat bone was found to be weakly magnetic because of this high iron content.
The flesh and muscle are less developed than the average humanoid’s. In appearance, the average deadbeat will look like an unhealthily thin person because of this low muscle and fat tissue volume and almost bone-white skin, even if the individual is perfectly healthy. This emaciated appearance is thus not a cause for concern. The composition of these softer tissues is responsible for this; alongside a degree of calcification, they have a reduced water content, as low as 40% compared to 76% as found in common mammalian muscle. This does not however impede the function of the musculoskeletal system. This high dehydration reduces the blood supply to the muscle, but this is mitigated by adaptations in the cardiovascular system; polycythaemia is present, due to high red cell and nutrient content in the blood, and cardiomegaly is consistently observed, the larger heart being able to pump more of the thicker blood where it is required. A corollary of this high viscosity is that superficial cuts will stop bleeding relatively quickly, but this means that deadbeats, especially older or unhealthy ones, are prone to blood clots.
The heavier skeleton and reduced soft tissue results in the average deadbeat weighing the same as most human people, except for the Goddess Faithful priestesses. We will touch on this later in this article. This high overall density results in deadbeats being very poor swimmers, although submersion can still be prevented with vigorous swimming.
The most surprising thing about their physiology is that their nervous system is entirely contained within their bones and many of their internal organs appear connected to their skeletal structure. A white calcified protective layer sheathes many of the internal organs. This, combined with the density of their bones leaves them with an incredibly well protected nervous system. Some members of the imperial college have suggested that the flesh is in fact more of a puppet that the skeleton controls. Thus, the old deadbeat saying: “There is a deadbeat inside all of us”. The consensus of the imperial college is a rejection of this hypothesis, though that may be due to its controversial nature. This leads to deadbeats being able to survive grievous injury, the level of which would normally kill say a hooman from blood loss, as well as maintain functionality so long as the bone is not significantly damaged. Critical injuries to the head are still fatal, as are heavy wounds to the upper chest. These characteristics may explain why even when thrown into some of the most suicidal military operations, deadbeat squads may find victory in operations intended to be diversions. They suffer terrible losses and injuries, but can keep pressing forward thanks to their unique physiology.
The actual cause of those adaptations remains a hot topic for study, but correlational studies are informative in this regard. Deadbeat-like adaptations are universally linked to exposure to Mori-attuned chuubanite. In fact, people from other countries will see themselves take on those characteristics (migration of the nervous system into the skeleton, goethite synthesis in osteoblasts, calcification of tissues and cardiovascular adaptations) slowly if exposed to high concentrations for years. A lifetime would result in measurable changes, and the offspring of the immigrant would have complete deadbeat adaptations within two to three generations of /morig/ island residence.
This is most clearly observed in the Goddess Faithful priestesses. Renowned for their beauty and voluptuousness compared to other inhabitants of the island, it is a common misconception that the religious class does not display deadbeat characteristics. This is incorrect; they display them more strongly than any demographic, likely because of their extreme exposure to high chuubanite concentrations near Mont Mori. Those exposures would destroy the mind of most, but for the strongly-minded individuals able to handle this strain, the result is an exacerbation of all the characteristics described above. The more “normal” volume of soft tissue is actually an accumulation of even higher amounts of densified deadbeat muscle, explaining the remarkable power of the priestesses; they effectively have two to three times the muscle mass found in a deadbeat of normal strength. All this added calcified tissue leads to priestesses of average height and seemingly normal build commonly weighing up to three hundred pounds or more.
Hair and eyes of the Deadbeat
Deadbeats have rather small amounts of hair. Body hair is almost completely absent on the trunk and limbs. Males are beardless, and hair on the scalp is an utter rarity. Females have sparse scalp hair commonly enough, and both sexes have thin eyebrows, though chuubanite exposure acts as a significant hair growth enabler. The lack of melanin in the skin is also found in the hair and eyes. Hair will be white, pale grey or platinum blonde, with irises displaying a similar range of colors. For both, high concentrations of Mori-type chuubanite in the body have an effect, tinting the features with the pink shade typical of the magical substance. Most deadbeats do not have chuubanite accumulations sufficient to display this, but it is usually found in Goddess Faithful clergy-people. The eyes can even glow slightly in certain individuals and under the right conditions.
Mori Chuubanite Deficiency
Excerpt from a lecture by Professor Pelle Victrus:
Professor, what would be the consequences of a long-term interruption in Mori-type chuubanite?
Great question, Samuel! There are two aspects to deadbeatification: the anatomical adaptations, and the chuubanite accumulation. Given enough time, the chuubanite stored in a deadbeat's bones will decay completely. From there, some things would change faster, hair growth speed and melanin levels in the skin would be the quickest to return to normal, taking about a year or less. The other changes would require more time, the decalcification of the muscles would take a few years to be noticeable, and a decade to be complete, samewise for the calcification of the inner organs. The skeleton itself goes through a slow cellular turnover, and would likely remain deadbeat-like for the lifetime of the person.
The decay of the chuubanite would also be a lengthy process, though. Crystallized into the deadbeat skeleton, its decay is quite slow, adult deadbeats can spend decades abroad without depleting it completely. Things like straining, or Death forbid, breaking your skeleton would deplete your chuubanite reserves faster due to microfractures.
Thankfully, skeletal chuubanite can be replenished by simply eating /morig/ food, drinking /morig/ water, and breathing /morig/ air, so even a complete depletion can be treated in less than a year.
Children are particularly vulnerable to chuubanite deficiency, since their growing skeleton quickly depletes it. Thus, it's unadvisable to allow prolonged travel of youths outside of the island. Keep this in mind when your little ones beg for trips to the continent!
Religion
The folklore and faith of /morig/ alike both stem from the mountain in the center of the island, the area surrounding it, and what lies within. Mt. Mori is an ancient volcano, generally agreed upon by modern researchers to be completely dormant, though a famous local legend has been attached to it since long before the nation’s formal founding—one that prophesies its potential for destruction on a global scale. Denizens of the island mainly use the old legend as a means to scare young children into their beds at night, though a very small sect of fanatics will occasionally make a scene raving about the forthcoming doomsday, much to the chagrin of locals trying to peacefully go about their days. Curiously, talk of this legend is much more prevalent the further you get from /morig/’s shores, and spoken about with much greater fervor.
The mountain itself remains idyllic and peaceful, serving as a very attractive landmark, but what’s even more striking is what lies below it. Extending out for kilometers from the base of the mountain, surrounding it in a perfect circumference, is an area that’s come to be known as the Underworld. The air is inexplicably and significantly colder in this area, as if to suggest crossing a supernatural border. Nature thrives here since access to the sanctuary is heavily restricted, and, most notably, large cherry trees flower beautifully during springtime. Including the mountain itself, it is the most sacred place on the island. Trace amounts of latent chuubanite, either in the air, the soil underfoot, emanating from the mountain, the trees, and/or the shrine of the goddess herself is what’s thought to be responsible for the supernatural chill, but to the population of /morig/, the touch of Death is considered a cherished boon and comfort—one that must nevertheless warned to be dangerous in excess. Indeed, visitors of weak mind or constitution are especially cautioned not to remain long in the heart of the dense forest, lest they become entranced by the pink embers they start to find flitting at the corners of their eyes, hypnotized and doomed to wander mindlessly and in vain in search of the goddess’ loving embrace.
The Goddess Faithful oversee the Underworld from their temple headquarters at its perimeter. Shrine maidens reside and receive training there. Their duties include maintaining the temple and its grounds, attending to visitors, picking cherries from the trees of the forest, acting as guide to those granted permission to venture inward in pilgrimage to Mt. Mori, retrieving lost souls who have become spellbound within, and dispatching intruders with deadly efficiency. The scholar priests oversee the temple, grant blessings to those in pilgrimage, and dispatch troubadour missionaries to towns to sing the blessings of the goddess. Great stone tablets are erected in all towns transcribed with the goddess’ words and act as informal religious spaces and cultural landmarks. Shrines also exist in every town. In the past, higher amounts of tribute were demanded to be allowed entrance to the Underworld and be offered blessings, until it is said the Goddess herself descended from her mountaintop shrine to interfere. The priests who once reveled in their privilege were then humbled, and religious elitism scaled back over time. Religious tolerance is also very high in /morig/. Marketeers will encourage foreign visitors to gush as much about the love for their goddess, no matter their origin, as long as they’re willing to receive the same in turn.
The goddess is manifest, but the strict oversight of the religious order by the scholar priests has led to a somewhat fractured relationship between the people and the church, independently of the faith itself. In sheer defiance, some took to proclaiming the goddess was among the people, to spite the church, though what started as a jeer ended up becoming a well-circulated rumor and legend over time, that the goddess indeed absconds from her shrine on the mountain and walks among the people to fraternize unbeknownst. Darker are the rumors that involve a demonic cult.
The faith itself is very simple: live out a good and honest life, love the goddess truly, and prepare to kill everyone else for it at the end of the world. It is prophesied that at one day in the future, with no predetermination when, it will be time to ascend to Mt. Mori and fight your friends, family, and countrymen to the death to be the last one standing to receive the goddess’ embrace. Until then, you are free to go about your life. Because of this, the people of /morig/ are trained to be at minimum martially competent and are encouraged to continue their combat training throughout their life, creating an entire warrior caste on the island. In this way you could say that while there are no formal religious practices in /morig/, the religion is still deeply etched into the people.
The Guide
In the heart of the Rice Belt of morig, many kilometers past the golden fields of grain in the shadow of Mt. Mori to the north, there exists an old abbey, modest in stature but nevertheless crafted with intricate care, standing in graceful solitude, watching over farmers working dutifully in their paddies. It is not a shrine, nor is there a scripture stele anywhere on the premises denoting it as a site of worship. Curiously, it is dedicated to a foreign goddess of harvest, considered a compatriot of the death goddess. Deep Scripture states that the she acted as salvation and guidepost to the goddess prior to her ascension, so she is nonetheless revered in a sort of cult manner by the residents of the island despite not being recognized by the local pantheon.
The abbey is not formally recognized by the Goddess Faithful as an official site of worship, but they nevertheless maintain the abbey by facilitating seasonal rotations of a small group (2-4) of shrine maidens dispatched to act as caretakers. Receiving actual worshipers is rare, but they are not unwelcome. The building—and its dedicated goddess—is nonetheless a precious thing to deadbeats.
Fauna
The Deadsloth
The deadsloth is the largest existing animal found on /morig/ island. Its particular characteristics are likely the result of millions of years of evolution in an insulated ecosystem. It is a classical example of insular gigantism, since the female deadsloth grows to heights of up to 5 meters, and may weigh up to 8 tons, with slightly smaller males. The species most related to the deadsloth in its order, the Holocontinental sloth, has much more diminutive dimensions, demonstrating the effect the /morig/ environment has had on the deadsloth.
Some elements of its physiology are shared by the similarly native deadbeat, such as a very high degree of densification and calcification of the muscular tissue, an intraskeletal nervous system, and a lack of hair on the epidermis.
The animal thrives in this environment, being an omnivore with a highly opportunistically carnivorous component. It is the largest carnivore present on the island, meaning it can scavenge nutritious sources of meat uncontested by other species (with the exception of the native deadbeats).
They are not particularly aggressive when well-fed, and have been successfully tamed by humans for use in a variety of tasks, including transport, farm labor, and combat. It is suspected that both deadbeats and deadsloths have undergone directed evolution as a result of their constant exposure to low concentrations of Mori-attuned chuubanite in their environment, water and alimentation.
The Longest Lizards
Watch out for lizards on /morig/. They're so big they look like snakes.
On Death Masks
Death Masks are special adornments used by the people of /morig/. Foreign visitors note them as odd and a little unsettling, but they are considered vitally important to the people of the island. Every man, woman, and child possesses a Death Mask, and the implicit obligation reinforced by generations of teaching is to carry them on their person at all times. Simply put, they are masks made from a native ceramic material worn to cover the whole face which traditionally and predominantly are made to resemble human skulls, with few notable exceptions. They may be freely personalized, though the most wild designs are typically only adorned by ronins outside of the country. Traditionalist artisans on the island tend to categorize them into three classes: those worn by civilians and merchants, comprising the majority of the population, which tend to be simpler in design; those worn by the warriors, which are designed to be more intimidating; and those of the shrine maidens, the most visually striking as they are instead made to resemble foxes.
The function of the Death Mask is for it to be worn during mortal combat. Infused into its design are trace amounts of native chuubanite, enough for the wearer to be instilled with a deep sense of calm without inhibiting cognitive function (for a time). For a practiced combatant, this can be utilized to enhance reflexes, giving the wearer a slight edge in martial prowess provided they can overcome their opponent before the encroaching mental fog, lending to the reputation of /morig/ warriors are being particularly fearsome and wandering Deadbeat ronins as highly valuable and competent mercenaries. The mask also grants protection from the external influence of Mori-affinity chuubanite, such as that which is endemic to the Underworld, or the gaseous weapons employed by Deadbeats.
Prolonged exposure to Mori-affinity chuubanite via the Death Mask still has the drawback of disorienting the wearer. The longer it is worn, the greater the weight on the mind. It requires extensive discipline and training to wear one for extended periods of time without feeling the side-effects. Conversely, some extremist artisans have a different approach to crafting Death Masks: by using a more intense psychoactive refinement of chuubanite, wearing the mask can induce a state of frenzy, transforming warriors into terrifying berserkers. The physical drawbacks of these masks are much more severe, and the benefits, though frighteningly effective, are short-lived. There’s a local legend of a famous, possibly apocryphal outlaw driven mad by never removing his mask, who fights ferociously on horseback, subduing his pursuers with chains.
△/morig/ sailor militiaman considering his life choices and where he went wrong to end up sailing the South HoloSea. Note: his helmet-mounted personal Death Mask, partial mass-produced plate armor, and flintlock firearm. Not pictured: his personal melee weapon.
Development goal
What's your nation's current goals now. What are you trying to aim for your development? Would said development make your people happy?
In a meta sense we're mostly trying to establish relationships with the other threads active on /vtwbg/, but in-universe those relationships are probably long-running. The IC goal might be to reduce human trafficking in the Holosea and improve the power projection capabilities of the Deadbeat Navy.
Major settlements
I already (kind of arbitrarily) designated these areas as our busiest ports and largest cities, and there just so happens to be one in the North-West. Ceding partial ownership of the city shouldn't be an issue based on the terms described, I don't think.
I like the Oppia name. As for the other five of the Six Ports, there's the Rivers of the Underworld in Greek myth: Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, Lethe, and Phlegethon.