Nova Terra Equestriae

The year is 1520, Imperium was in a golden age, it owned nearly half of Mainland Aretia, and trade was bustling more than ever. And at the heart of this trade was the Scismatis Sea. This sea was between mainland Aretia and the Island of Mythos. Imperiums largest trade partner was Tiudunhaim, which was on the island of Mythos.

The route to Tiudunhaim was relatively simple, having to travel to the port city of Teus, then sailing the Scismatis Sea to pass the Kalkara Channel, before landing on Mungibeddu, the nation's largest city. The problem was that this route was full of pirates, who plundered nearly all merchant ships around the area.

But there was another route—a longer, more perilous one. This route involved going through the vast and uncharted Oceanus. The Oceanus was a superocean twice the size of the Pacific Ocean, and nobody has ever circumnavigated it. Rumors and legends have told the tales of various sea monsters that lurk beneath this ocean.

Severnaius Clericus, a Hegemonian merchant, lived in the city of Tycheum, a city just 50 km away from Teus. As he stood upon the docks, he received a newsletter.

Merchants Beware!
On August 15, 1520, 3 ships were raided by pirates in the Kalkara Channel; the Kalkaran Navy captured these pirates at Ganneia and arrested them. It is heavily advised for merchants to take alternative routes.

Severnaius frowned. The Kalkara channel had always been dangerous, but with more ship traffic, the more attacks were happening. Mungibeddu was a critical destination for merchants like him, but the dangers seemed to outweigh the cost. So, as Severnaius was standing on the docks, an idea struck him. It was madness, but so was risking precious cargo and his life. His idea was the Oceanus. There were no pirates there, he wondered. If he successfully traveled across this vast ocean, he'd be famous for tales of the legendary Severanius Clericus, who traveled through the wide Oceanus. So, he had made a decision; the next time he would sail to Tiudunhim, he was going through the Oceanus.

Two years had passed since Severnaius Clericus first conceived the idea of crossing the Oceanus. The image of pirates raiding merchant ships in the Kalkara Channel lingered in his mind as he worked tirelessly on plans to take the uncharted route. His name had already been circulating among merchants all over Arhet as the man crazy enough to even consider navigating the perilous superocean. But Severnaius was determined—his ambition had grown with every passing month, and the thought of what lay beyond the known seas kept him going. During those two years, he had poured over ancient maps, consulted scholars in Teus, and spent endless nights meeting with shipwrights to design vessels capable of braving the vast Oceanus. With no known safe harbors beyond the Kalkara Channel, he needed ships that could carry enough supplies for a journey whose end no one could predict.

By 1523, Severnaius had completed his preparations. He found himself in the grand court of Horatius II Minor, vicar of Magius Aeternus, Emperor of Imperium, presenting his plans for the audacious voyage. The merchant's reputation, mixed with his promises of untold riches and uncharted trade routes, swayed the court. The ruler, intrigued by the prospect of expanding the empire’s influence, agreed to fund the expedition.

Severnaius was granted a sum of ₳2,000,000, an astronomical amount for the time, enough to finance the construction of two ships, hire a crew, and equip the voyage with ample provisions. The ships Neptunus and Hercules, named after revered gods of sea and bravery, were built to weather the most turbulent seas. Each vessel was equipped with reinforced hulls and extra storage for food and water.

On a calm morning in early June 1523, the harbor of Burdigala, one of the Imperium’s largest port cities, was abuzz with activity. Severnaius stood on the deck of the Neptunus, the flagship of the expedition. A crew of 120 men stood ready across both ships, handpicked from the most experienced sailors of Aretia. As the final crates of supplies were loaded, Severnaius gazed across the horizon, where the ocean stretched beyond sight.

The time had come.

On this day, they set sail into the Fretum Budigalensis, a big strait that led into the Mare Mercatorium. As they were sailing through the strait, they were filled with an overwhelming sense of the unknown.

A day passed, and they reached the island of Aulon, the largest island within the Fretum Budigalensis. They decided to spend a few hours in Sancta Mariana Insula before leaving.

Three days later they reached the island of Merkatos, one of Imperiums institutional seats. They landed here and sent a report to the Emperor of their arrival, and after just 5 hours they set sail once more.

17 days passed, and they were nearly 3000 km away from Aretia; even though this was a long distance away to Mythos, it was farther than anyone had ever sailed. But, in the distance, storm clouds emerge. His crew members advised him not to continue, but he insisted on going anyway. The storm approached the ship, and before long it started raining. As the ship sailed, the waves became bigger, and the rain poured harder.

The storm raged on, its fury battering Neptunus and the Hercules as they struggled against the relentless waves. Severnaius Clericus clung to the railing, his eyes scanning the tumultuous horizon for any sign of hope. The storm's roar drowned out all other sounds, but his crew's urgent shouts and the creaking of the ship's battered hull were ever-present.

After a grueling struggle, the storm finally began to subside, leaving the two ships limping through the choppy waters. As the clouds parted, a faint silhouette appeared through the mist—land.

The crew, exhausted but relieved, maneuvered the Neptunus towards the shoreline. They anchored just offshore, the rain still drizzling lightly, creating a somber atmosphere. The crew’s relief was palpable, and Severnaius knew they had to act quickly to assess the damage and make necessary repairs.

Severnaius looked at his maps; there were no landmasses at the location they were in. This was a new island. So, they turned the ships to a small bay. Upon reaching the shore, Severnaius and his crew disembarked, carefully unloading their supplies and equipment. They began a preliminary assessment of the Neptunus’s damage. The ship's hull was deeply scarred by the storm, and several of the rigging lines were torn.

Meanwhile, Severnaius spotted something—a stone road. The road itself was not anything peculiar; in fact, it was somewhat like a generic, stone road you would see in Imperium.

“Hey! There seems to be a road here! ”Severnaius calls his crew.

Severnaius and 4 of his members walk on the road cautiously heading north, and after around 10 minutes of walking, they find a village. The village was somewhat picturesque, with stilted houses and an elegant design. But it was not the architecture that intrigued Severnaius, nor the surroundings, but the inhabitants. The village inhabitants were not humans, but something much more peculiar, small, colorful unicorns?