The Mumum River, unlike the other two great rivers of Shdustu, does not flow south toward the Udultu Salt Sea, but instead east into the vast desert Lake Tumum. It is a long, powerful, and sluggish waterway, one that grows surprisingly vast towards the conclusion of the journey. Many settlements lie along this river, for the eastern portion of Shdustu is wetter than the west, and in the north also sources some additional water from the forests of the north. The Mumum floods each spring, with regularity, following the late snowmelt. This prompts a flurry of farming activity. Such activity cannot, generally, be observed from the river itself, for the Mumum cuts a deep course through the steppe and is surrounded by great slopes along the shore. These wet slopes are a stronghold of forests carefully planted and cultivated by the Nikkad as timber stands. As a consequence, the view from on the river obscures the existence of the steppe entirely, presenting an illusion of a forested world.

River passage is slow. Barges follow the current downstream, rarely propelled beyond the pace of a brisk walk, and often significantly less. The main course of the river contains no rapids at all, not for a thousand kilometers. Such smooth and easy travel is not natural, but the boulders and blockages that once obstructed traffic were blasted apart by sorcerers many years ago, and large tree falls are removed in the same manner even now. Twists and turns, however, remain numerous, and the polemen must be vigilant so as to keep the vessels from wandering into the banks. Along the shore, winding between the water’s edge and the tree plantations, are packed trails used by local travelers, crews hauling barges upriver, and mercenaries on patrol. Passage is dangerous and protection necessary. The Kharal have almost no inclination to attack river shipping, but the tree plantations are a popular refuge of bandits, and the river trade, with its numerous vagaries, produces many such desperate individuals.

As the river passage contains many twists, unexpected obstacles, and potentially dangerous mystic beasts, travel at night is avoided save by the foolish or desperate. Instead, regular stops are made at riverside piers that stand near the various Nikkad settlements fund along the way. These camps are generally well-defended, surrounded by walls of stakes, and fairly safe. It is when the barges are unable to reach one of these posts due to some irregularity in progress that danger beckons. Forced to tie up alone, they are easy prey to nighttime attacks by bandits. The risk is greatest for those traveling upriver, for crews exhausted by hauling ships against the current are poorly equipped to give battle, and the raiders preferentially target them. Even so, the downriver course is not without its challenges. Anassaga requested that, as part of the condition of our passage, Lady Indili sleep during the day and keep watch at night. Restored to her dark robes and pointed hat, her presence represented a powerful deterrent against bandits, for few are so confident as to risk themselves against mystic might.

The need to stop each night mandates a schedule intended to maximize time on the water, with crews working in shifts, waking before dawn and not tying up until after dark. In the high summer, with the days very long and the nights terribly short this far north, this schedule can be very trying. Travelers must wake before dawn, cooking breakfast and loading the barge by lamplight, a process that is repeated for dinner and offloading after dark, while the captain conducts the nightly trades. This severely truncates sleep, though those who work the river regularly learn to sleep on the water, often collapsing into slumber immediately after concluding a shift poling or standing sentry duty.

Engaged as I was in mapping river channels and currents alongside Anassaga’s navigator this option was not available to me. I snatched such sleep as I could during those periods when the barge came to a halt, but only fitfully, and I accrued an ever-growing deficiency of rest. By the conclusion of the journey, which lasted a full fifty days, I was utterly exhausted and shambled about the barge in a half-daze. I do not consider my maps of the middle Mumum, near Summugigus, to be of even tolerable quality. Thankfully the need in this area was limited, for the river was broad and open in this region and the hazard considerably reduced.

Aside from the accumulated fatigue, the journey was uneventful. A slow dream of mist and fog and baking sun that stretched across the summer of Northern Shdustu, consuming the season and passing it swiftly beyond memory. Intimidated by the presence of the sorceress and her swimming shades, we experienced no bandit attacks. The merchants, despite not a one among them having ever seen the ocean, were very impressed by the sharks formed of black mist. Nor did we face menace from any river-dwelling monster. The sailors claim the river hosts shrimp-like creatures the size of wolves, similar to the giant spiders and scorpions observed often on land, and that they sometimes menace barges. Possessed of a greater reserve of knowledge, the navigator informed me that the local fishermen trap these creatures with great vigor, and they have been almost exterminated from all but the most minor tributaries. Later, in Summugigus, I observed several fine drawings of these creatures, with much true to life detail, and though I was never able to see one in person, I believe they are a presence in the river.

By the grace of the Divines, I was granted a sight of one of the true wonders of the river, a creature of immensity and power not sourced to any meddling wizard, the mighty sturgeon. These fish, which live in the deepest and coldest portions of the river, are true giants, said to be the largest fish found outside the ocean, and bulkier than most even there. The one I saw was most formidable. It stretched from nose to tail fully three times my height, and I believe it weighed ten times the weight of most men. It possessed an uneven tail, higher on top than below, like a shark’s, bony armored knobs on the side, and strange fleshy barbels trailing below its flattened nose. These animals are very powerful, easily capable of capsizing the small boats used by fishermen who catch them. The flesh of these animals is palatable, though tough, and if this was all they offered none would bother to catch them, but other purposes provide a very strong inducement. The large swim bladders are used in wine making, and the thick scales can be used to provide an additional layer of armor to lamellar coats, but the true prize is the roe, the numerous black eggs found in the females, which when salted forms a most savory foodstuff that is considered a peerless luxury and is featured at the tables of khagans and princes. Sturgeons are rare, for even a large river can only feed so many fish of such magnitude, and if the fishermen are to be believed they are long-lived creatures that grow slowly. It was claimed to me that some live for many decades, perhaps even as much as one hundred years. I am somewhat skeptical of this claim, but the one I saw caught had two hooks in the jaw from failed attempts, and one was severely decayed, suggesting a battle many years before, so their lives are not short. Thankfully, due to the influence of the Enlightened Revelation among the Nikkad, the need to exercise caution with such creatures is understood, and the catch is maintained under a quota dictated by the Prince of Summugigus, with brass tags granted out to the approved fishermen for each animal they may take per year. Poaching, often practiced by bandits, is not unknown, but the skill needed to take these mighty fish is considerable and most untrained efforts fail. Even should they succeed, unsourced black roe is viewed with suspicion, and shamans and priests who observe it at the tables of their leaders will launch investigations. Poaching of sturgeon is punishable by death. Poachers endeavor to sell their prize to visiting merchants instead, though the local river traders view this ill and do not hesitate to report such actions if they discover them.

Stolen novel; please report.

The people who work the river are a curious breed indeed. They speak Nikkad, and most maintain homes in riverside towns, but most speak with a curious accent, and they live in their own districts separate from the main populations. They tend to have stouter frames and slightly darker skin than most Nikkad, though this may simply be the influence of hauling heavy loads and working shirtless upon the water from a young age. On the Shgutu and Shdulus Rivers barge traffic is controlled by the Rutar, who range up from their marshy homelands to provide the specialized skills of water work. No Rutar are found along the Mumum, but it seems these people retain an ancient legacy that separates them from most Nikkad. Perhaps they were Rutar once or are the offspring of Rutar enslaved by the Nikkad. Inquiry into local history revealed that some three and a half centuries in the past a small population of Rutar lived along the shores of Lake Tumum. These people were accused of falling under the sway of the Obsidian Order and were destroyed by the Kharal during the War of Burnt Reeds. Details are scant, but assuming that the displaced survivors were sold into slavery in Summugigus, which is probable, they could have sourced the river workers thereafter. Now they represent a blend of both heritages. At the least, those who live on the water scatter offerings to the shrimp in the shallows, not the scorpions on the shore.

Sailors, bargemen, fisherfolk, reed cutters, trappers, and all the other roles allowed by the river are given to this select sub-population, with work passed through families across generations. This keeps them fed and busy but offers no path to wealth. The merchants of the river and the northern caravan routes who live in rich manors in Summugigus have no direct ties to these people. Instead, they are either full-blooded Nikkad, foreigners, or half-breeds. Anassaga was such an individual. She had a Nikkad mother, but her father had been a mercenary captain from the desert lands beyond Lake Tumum. She related to me that she had come to Shdustu as a child, following the death of her father in battle. She had purchased the barge that served as the foundation of her trading enterprise using the wealth he left her when she came of age, something her Nikkad roots permitted. Such sales are forbidden to the people who sail and work the river. Those who control the towns are unwilling to allow new entrants to compete in their enterprises. Even foreign merchants of great wealth who wish to acquire access to the river trade must rely on sponsorship from the local authorities.

Slow and massive though the Mumum River is, it cannot surpass the cold of the north. It is navigable only roughly half the year, being otherwise blocked by ice. This is barely enough time for a journey from Gudishmu to Summugigus and back, and it is not uncommon for some barges to make only a one-way trip each year. This severely limits the total volume of trade. However, once frozen over the river transforms into a route for overland traffic. Protected by the sloping valley it has carved against the ravages of blizzards, and with regular stops for shelter and resupply, the ice allows camel caravans to march through the winter atop this river and the other great waterways of Shdustu, often guided by the same merchants who command boats in summer.

The numerous Nikkad towns placed along the river are all very much alike. They are compact walled settlements, each placed atop some hill or outcrop that offers protection from spring flooding. Carefully irrigated plots used for grain and vegetable production surround them. Most of these host no more than one thousand inhabitants and focus their efforts on the production of single valuable commodity for use in trade. These towns, in a deviation from typical Nikkad sentiment, are not independent, but fall under the control of the prince of Summugigus. Magistrates appointed from the large family of the prince rule these towns. The other great rivers lack this dynamic save within relatively short reach of their major cities. Though the river region is a major stronghold of the Nikkad and the towns here are, by the standards of Shdustu, prosperous, the harsh climate means that they remain quite poor compared to similar-sized riverside communities in the Core Provinces. They are still required to pay tribute to the Mumsassim Khagan and face regular raids by the Kharal. Violence, mostly due to bandits, is common upon the river routes, wealth attracting predators as always.

This region abounds in mercenaries, many of them drawn from various desperate origins, including former criminals, and the boundary between bandit and mercenary is often decidedly nebulous. The guards Anassaga hired to protect her barge were themselves former bandits, something they admitted openly. They were young men who had lost their livelihood as fishermen after Kharal raiders seized their catch and burned their boats and nets. They possessed only simple arms, including crude single-edged swords similar to those used by the Sunfire Cult that are widely available throughout Shdustu, basic spears designed more for hunting than war, and self-bows of sloppy construction vastly inferior to the composite bows of the Kharal or the large, heavy bows of the Bahab or Rutar. Their armor consisted almost entirely of broad circular shields. The resulting combatant is poorly suited to any use other than skirmishing, but the small boats, wobbly barges, and thickly forested confines of the shore struggle to support any other kind of fighting, so such disorganized forces manage to fulfill their duties despite high casualties.

The forests themselves, being planted and managed rather than natural growth, differ from any other forest in Shdustu. They are almost entirely broadleaf trees, not conifers, with those also able to produce fruit or nuts, such as the local oak, most common. These are interspersed in areas that flood too deep to support timber by reed beds, which grow very tall. These are used in the construction of baskets, bedding, rafts, and much more. I would have liked the opportunity to study these plantations in greater detail, for they seemed unusually productive in both food and timber, something not readily combined elsewhere.