Ziquan

On my first trip to Ziquan, I had recently left the care of the Vile Sails, and was looking to charter a fast boat back to the mainland, away from plank-walking, shilly-shallying, and whatever else it is that they wanted to do to me. For this reason I cannot comment on the many picturesque locations on the largest of the Islands of Spice and Steam. For this I apologize, but remind you that the Academy is offering a program to those of you who would like to learn more about the famous Steam Pits of Ziquan or the Elemental Falls.

Ziquan is dominated by a large trader-town which grew out of the fusion of a local tribe of indigenous people and rogue members of the Mechanists of Zooch who fled from their city two-hundred years ago in a stolen orthonodon. The two groups assisted each other in ways that history is rarely able to provide examples for, whether culturally or economically. Indeed, one just needs to look at a modern Ziquan orthonodon to see how the syncretic relationship has flourished: it bears the traditional designs which the islanders once placed upon their oar-powered canoes, but also acts with the precision expected of a Zoochcraft.

Oh! That reminds me. Everyone who is interested in the upcoming study had best bring a reinforced umbrella. While the temperament of the islanders is generally pleasant, they are known to act upon wild urges if they think they can get away with it.

From one of Horace Gorman’s earlier recorded lectures at the Matratut Royal Academy. Its proper title is lost to the same falling Uum-toes which destroyed the academy, but several surviving sets of notes from students who attended have given it the name “Places Where I Have Had Over-Ripe Fruit Dropped upon My Head.”