Occurrences in the Life of Chief Advisor Paopeng

The Sun rose slowly over the Great Kingdom of Tyren, and yet the fields and forests and cities were already teeming with life. If the Holy Scripture is to be believed, then the Sun was created by Tyren's resident elephant God, the Elatera. In the beginning, before cars and planes and satellite television, the Elatera graciously gifted his two hearts to the Tyrenese people. One heart formed the Sun, which allowed them to grow crops. The other formed the Moon, so the tides may bring fish. The rest he left to the Tyrenese to figure out, presumably because he had better things to do. Some time ago the Tyrenese mutually agreed that the Elatera had to of been quite Large, and his heart quite Heavy, and so it made sense for the Sun to rise slowly and no one questioned it further.

Each sunrise in Tyren is a glorious spectacle; it begins in the East, the light first touching the Eastern Jungles, piercing the dense canopy in thin streaks. The nocturnal animals slink away into the caves and bushes, and the trees begin to ring with birdsong. It then glides over the River of Life, small pinpricks of light sparkling over the fast running water. Finally, it settles in the Western Mountains, illuminating the rows and rows of coca leaves planted in the ground. It is one of the most beautiful times of day, the light bathing Tyren in a warm, gold aura. Those who know of the Tyrenese sunrise come from all over Known to witness it.

With this knowledge, you would assume that the people of Tyren would spend their mornings sleeping, basking in the morning Sun, but this is not the case. Devotion and hard work are the core values of the Tyrenese, and so they rise early, and do not rest until the work is done.

The farmers awake first. In the mountains and valleys of Western Tyren they begin before first light, for the dry season is upon them and there is much work to be done. It is the busiest time of the year; the cocoa leaves have being growing for more than twelve months and will be harvested on the first day of March. It is a special, sacred time for the Tyrenese; a holiday of sorts, if holidays were characterized by twenty hours of hard, physical work. In the days leading up to Harvest Day plant health is checked, sacks are woven by the wives and carts prepare to carry the goods down the mountains, to the River of Life. Tyrenese children laugh and play, jumping between the bushes whilst the elders scorn them from the porch, chewing on coca leaves to help with altitude sickness.

In the jungles of Eastern Tyren the cocoa bean gathering parties set out at dawn. It is the safest time, for the tigers have been hunting all night, and will now retreat to their dens to rest and groom. Despite this, the spearmen still protect the basket carriers. In the early days many gathering parties did not return. After all is Said and Done, the Tyrenese are fast learners. Young boys, some only thirteen, scramble up the tree trunks, a soykan hanging from their belts or between their teeth. Their lightweight, small build allows them to climb with speed, and jump from tree to tree, not unlike a monkey would. The hack at the cocoa beans, dropping them into the baskets below. It is an important job; Tyrenese chocolate is the finest in all of Known, as well as it's primary export.

In the thousands of temples scattered across Tyren, monks quietly shuffle to and fro. Some rise at dawn, many go several days without sleeping. They can pray for days on end, sitting or kneeling, eyes closed. They do not speak, but they call out to the Elatera, wordlessly, silently. They pass on the hopes and prayers of the people, and as a reward for their lifelong service they shall sit upon the Great Tree of Life with Him after they ascend. They eat donations of rice and chocolate, left at the temple doors by the townsfolk. They sweep, and tidy, and beg, living the most modest lifestyle they possibly can.