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Porta breaks off half the bread and hands it to the small duck tending Argentus. Aix grabs the bread with a wide grin on his bill and dips it in a puddle of rainwater. Happily munching on the soggy bread, the turncoat duck watches the new proceedings with interest.
His eyes widen as the Carmanian interrupts the bickering. "Is this how you decide things in the Empire, boss? I thought it was a bit more dignified..."
Porta ignores the duck, deep in thought. Chief trader.... now there's an idea... but then again... it's not really his style to be in the front of things. He prefers to operate from behind, pulling strings and arranging deals.
The canny Vanchite hesitates, waiting to see who steps forward.
Xerxis finally organizes his little retinue into setting down all his books, and takes stock of the situation.
He thinks back to that fateful meeting with the general that day....
Xerxis approached the general and addressed him with all the style a young Carmanian Vizeri could muster, "So, am I to be reassigned?"
"What?" said the general, not expecting the interruption. "No, you're one of the hundred. You go too."
"But why?" said Xerxis plaintively. "I was not involved in the debacle, as record keeper. It was not mine to thwart the enemy. Certainly the letter doesn't pertain to me?"
The general set his drink down, and looked Xerxis over. "You were the chronicler of the legion, right?"
Xerxis nodded uncertainly, "Yes, that was my assignment."
"The emperor wants this forgotten. You are the memory of these events. You go to," said the general as if stating simple fact. The certainty of the statement left no room for argument.
Xerxis stood for a moment with his mouth half open trying to find something to say in rebuttal. Finding nothing, he straighened up, made the symbol of peace touching his hand to his lips, and turned and walked away to join the hundred.
Well, at least it's been interesting so far, Xerxis thinks to himself. Looking around at the dismal surroundings, however, even Xerxis' potent sense of curiosity is stifled for a moment. Certainly no books in this place. And from what he's heard, the local populace - these Heortlings of Sartar - aren't likely to have any at all. Well, certainly not any that hold the word of the one god. The heathens worship the storm as their highest deity? Or lightning or somesuch? What preposterousness to suppose such a being could be greater than the Invisible God who is above all - praised be his name, and praised be his prophet Sedenya.
At least the Heortling language had been easy enough to pick up as they'd passed through Tarsh.
Shaking his head, Xerxis takes account of the events transpiring. Ash certainly seemed to be in a mood today. Often the Humakti's darkness took a much less overt format, and was often couched in humor. Today he was being very direct and not the slightest bit funny. True the conditions are deplorable here, but mayhap there is something further amiss, thinks Xerxis to himself.
"Don't let anything get dirty," Xerxis admonishes his men. This just as Nurk sits on the edge of a stump, and lets the sack he's carrying rest in the mud behind it. Xerxis sighs with resignation, and turns back to the goup. He'd been lucky to be able to find more help after the massace, so patience was the order. That Nurk, however...
Nearby Porta stands by his royal mule looking pensive. Xerxis approaches calmly.
"Porta. You know, I'm aware that it's not in your usual...mileau...to be an authority figure, but," Xerxis pauses before continuing. "But circumstances are not quite the usual at the moment, and circumstances being what they are...well, I don't know that anyone else here knows anything about haggling much at all besides you. Wouldn't it make sense to throw your hat in for the trade position?"
Xerxis liked Porta, probably because he felt that they were kindred spirits in their non-conformity. Though it was quite possible that Porta would laugh at the suggestion that Xerxes was anything but proper.
Porta looks up as the lanky scholar approaches and listens to what he has to say.
"You might be right, honourable Adept.", he answers (with only a hint of irony to be detected). "This lot could use a good trader - otherwise I predict they'll starve to death within a week. They haven't even started setting up the camp yet. By the Mothers, they're a sorry bunch. Here, hold this."
With that, he hands his half-eaten sandwich to Xerxis and ambles over to join the discussion.
"I am Porta of Vanch", he announces. "Most of you know me to be an good soldier and an honest trader (laughter and catcalls all around). Yes, I know, I know... I might not have followed all the regulations set down by Etyries - but then again, I do know how to find useful stuff in the middle of the wastelands. And I have some small skill in trade relations. I suggest myself as chief Trader."
Aix pipes up; "What an excellent idea. Powta's gweat! All hail the Wed Goddess!"
After Porta puts his name forward there is a lot of shouting and yelling as more people throw their hats into the ring until eventually standing beside Porta and Krenlaw are another 12 candidates. They all reel off their details and then stand around unsure of what to do.
Krenlaw steps forwards and says "I propose that we hold elections the second full moon from today, until then we shall at least build some rude shelters to keep the elements off of us. Standard Lunar election tactics to apply?"
Porta smirks at the mention of 'standard Lunar election tactics'. He has heard quite a few stories of how elections are held in parts of the Empire.
He looks at the bedraggled group of survivors. They need something to do - and quickly, otherwise they'd likely disintegrate into a bunch of squabbling old women. Better for now to remind them that they possess valuable skills.
He sidles up to Mabilax, a dour Sylilan, sitting dejectedly on a wet mound of grass. "Ave, Centurion", he starts. "Should we not be setting up camp by now?. The lads and lasses need something to do. It will only take us a few hours and then we'll have a secure camp. We can set up the campaign fort later. Look, the engineer stands ready with his measuring tools."
Porta looks expectantly at the soggy-bottomed centurion.
---ooo000O000ooo---
What follows are Xerxis' comments about each character if anyone asks at some point, including his "votes." I've organized them by position that they're looking for.
Oheha's comments have been interspersed against the appropriate candidate, too. Where there's no competition, she makes no comment.
- For Fisherman -
>Krenlaw - Darjiin
"Krenlaw is, above all, competent. I don't know how well he can fish - I
assume it's pretty well. But even if he couldn't, I'd want him on the
council."
- For Herdsman -
>Marsa Tesa - Kostaddi
"I don't know Marsa well, but I've heard he's done well with the animals on
the way here. So barring another applicant I can't see why he wouldn't do.
And, Sedenya knows, I'm really hoping that we can continue to have beef in
our diets after next winter, so may the blessings of the one god be upon him
in his job. I don't suppose it's going to be easy."
- For Hunter
>Jem Blueshadow - Oraya
"Uh, she's a troll. I'm not going to argue with a troll. In any case, it
doesn't sound like a bad idea to have someone in charge of hunting."
- For Trader -
>Sedrovar of the Wagons - Oraya
"Which position is Sedrovar posting for? I'm guessing Trader? Hmmm. He's a
scoundrel. Oh, sure, Porta is a scoundrel, too, but at least he's a
good-natured scoundrel."
>Pauvic Bestral - Darsen
"Pauvic might make a good assistant for trading - and somebody to watch
Porta. But I'm not sure she has the savvy that the position takes."
"Trader position looks easy to decide," Oheha comments. "Sedrovar knows what he's doing, far more than the other two."
- For Healer -
>Jorpas Croweye - Oraya
"Again, sans another applicant for healer, I guess he'll do. But...there's
always been something about Jorpas...no matter."
- For Farmer -
>Whate Gudsa - Oronin
"Given Whate's problems with the fermentation of the barley, I think that it
would not be meet to vote for him. Only if nobody else presents themselves
would I support him."
- For Lawspeaker -
>Hagras Klanth - Vanch
"I think that Hagras' ambition exceeds his knowledge of law. Which doesn't
make him seem to me to be the best person for the job."
>Exast Judd - Darjiin
"Darjiini laws are... well, not the same as everywhere. But I think that
Exast has seen enough in his life to know how to alter those laws to fit our
new community. He has my vote."
>Keera Witchhands - Tarsh
"Keera? No, certainly not." Contemptuous glance.
Oheha agrees. "Exast, no question! He's far better than the others." Those around her may try to hide a smile. Not only is Exast also Darjiini, but he and Oheha have been known to disappear into the reeds together at times. And he was the one who taught her to read.
- For Chief Warrior -
>Lileka Ousop - Dikoria
"Lileka is an outstanding warrior with proven leadership abilities. Says so
in some of the records that I managed to salvage from the unit. And he's got
good moral character, I think."
>Astron Moonlight - Silver Shadow
"Astron is the the obvious choice here. I'm no warrior, but even I can tell
that his ability in warfare surpasses all. But the council warrior has to be
able to lead as well as fight. And Astron doesn't seem to be well liked. So
I think that I'd have to vote for a better leader."
>Yuenta Opass - Saird
"A nice person, and I'm sure she's a capable warrior. But she doesn't seem
to have the qualities of Lileka."
Oheha also has strong views.
"I can't stand that Lileka. I know he's good at what he does, but
pretending half the army isn't there's pretty stupid. Yuenta's sweet,
but she doesn't have the experience. It'll have to be Astron. All
right, he's not all that likeable, but he knows what he's doing."
Ash (when he gets back) says aye to...
Krenlaw being fisherman,
Marsa as herder,
Jorpas as healer,
Sedrovar as trader,
Whate Gudsar as farmer,
Exast Judd as lawkeeper,
Astron Moonlight as warrior,
Jem Blueshadow as hunter,
..unless of course Zenobia with sense motivation takes a dislike to any of them.
The best Zenobia can come up with is that each individual putting themselves forward wants their particular group to have some say in how the grant will be run.
Varonil is quiet and thoughtful when the people seeking council nomination announce themselves. He carefully weighs what each of them is saying, relying on Aronil's blessing to sort out the truths from the lies and half-truths.
Speaking with his comrades, Varonil gives his opinion on his favoured candidates.
Fisherman: "Krenlaw is a competant man who should no doubt be on council. Seeing that no one else has put themselves forward as Fisherman, I wholeheartedly support him."
Herder: "Marsa's superior attitude does not reflect well the Lunar way, but he is knowledgeable about horses, and seeing no other candidate I suppose he will do."
Trader: "This one is the hardest of all of the choices. Sedrovar, while a master trader, is far too free with his tongue for my liking. Porta seems less skilled, but is also less of a dissembler. Pauvic, while and admirable woman seems little skilled in the arts of trading. I would need to hear more from each candidate before deciding."
Healer: "His skills as a warrior and a healer are without reproach. He should do a fine job as healer."
Lawkeeper: "Here is another difficult choice. While I do not question Exast's wisdom or his character, Darjiini law is far from Lunar law. Hagras strikes me as a politician, not a lawkeeper, and while Keera can often get her way, her opinion is not respected by the group. In all, I would have to support Exast and trust that his personal integrity will allow him to follow the Lunar, and not simply the Darjiini way."
Farmer: "I trust not Whate. Surely there is some other member of our group with a knowledge of farming that we can encourage to seek the post of chide Farmer?"
Warrior: "I would support Astron without question. As a proven warrior and a true leader of men, he is exactly what we are looking for. True, he has few close friends, but I see that as an asset in a council member, not a detriment."
Hunter: "There must be seven members of the council, no more and no less. While I do not question Jem's abilities as a hunter, and we may even call her chief hunter if that is what she and we desire, but this should not be a council position. I would only support Jem as a council member if we find no replacement for Whate, and then we should have a chief Hunter, but no chief Farmer."
"My only concern in general with the council is that we keep a balance of regions. It looks like we are heavy on councillors from Darjiin, and light on candidates from the Provinces. I would suggest looking for a farmer amongst their ranks"
Xerxis takes a look at the sandwich handed him by Porta. On the one hand, the idea of eating said sandwich is disgusting to the civilized Carmanain. On the other hand, the sandwich is composed of some things that Xerxis hasn't tasted in a long time. Given that rations are what they are, it seems wasteful not to eat it...
Xerxis steps carefully amongst the stones of the scrub, making sure not to damage his shoes, and makes his way thusly to join Oheha as she heads towards where it seems she's going to set up camp. He has to pick up his pace somewhat to keep up with her much surer pace.
Swallowing the last of the sandwich so he can speak politely, he addresses her in his broken Darjiini. "May SurEnslib's love make your heart dance," he says in an overly formal Darjiini greeting.
In their interactions previously, Xerxis had sometimes portrayed himself almost as though he thought that he was Darjiini himself in knowing the culture. This could be comical at times when his inaccurate idea of Darjiini culture led him to make mistakes. Xerxis was more or less aware of this, too - he hoped that he didn't come off as being pretentious. It was just his way of trying to get to know the Darjiini in the group. They were, of course, a friendly enough lot, but to a Carmanian that informality was somehow threatening at times.
Oheha has always particularly intrigued Xerxis for several reasons. He thinks about the spirits of her religion and how difficult at times it was to reconcile them with the Red Goddesses vision of the Invisible God. Emblematic of the Darjiini culture in some ways, she awok in Xerxis the fascination he'd had with her people since he was very young. Morover, she seemed to be a kindred spirit in some ways - mostly in how she couldn't seem to ever know enough about things.
On the other hand Xerxis had seen her in battle, and his own curiosity had always sought for a way to reconcile that curiosity with the violence. In Carmania those dedicated to violence tended to be like Ash - they knew what they knew, and didn't need to know more other than where the enemy was at. This woman could both kill, and seek knowledge - which fascinated Xerxis.
The dark eyes smile back in half-suppressed amusement. "And may her song bring you joy." Then, switching to New Pelorian, "You might be better sticking to 'feet dance' rather than 'heart', in general. Unless you wanted to get a lot more friendly than you probably intended."
Xerxis grimaces slightly in embarrassment, but she has seen enough of him to know that he would rather be corrected than left in ignorance, one of the things she likes about him. And, despite their vastly diffect backgrounds, something they had in common...
"So how would I say that in Sartarite, without being, um, politically incorrect? I can't really wish them Orlanth's blessings, can I?"
She has listened to the local inhabitants talking, without them being aware she was there, and got the gist of their conversations, but has not yet made contact. To do that, she will need to improve her grasp of their language - or perhaps get help? 'Know your enemy - they may turn out to be a friend.' It's always worked in the past.
"I've been working on that, but it's a problem," says Xerxis who has to stop himself from trying to explain too much. "It seems that they have this very elaborate greeting ritual, but I think it's not correct for us to use it with them, being outlanders. But outside of that, I'm not sure that there is a proper way to greet one. It's almost as if their ritual is designed to make sure that they're offended by anyone who they meet that's not from Sartar. The best you can hope for is indifference from what I can tell."
Then, "I'm sure I'm missing something somewhere. Have you noted anything else about this? Maybe I'm just forgetting something."
She considers this in silence for a while as they walk on. "From what I remember hearing", she says slowly, "their greeting seemed to start with a simple query as to who the approaching stranger was, and whether they were a friend or a foe. And they seemed to take it for granted that they would tell the truth, which seemed rather odd."
"Yes, this is what tripped me up, too. Is it all right to say that we're friends if we've never actually met them or performed the ceremony before, or would we be caught in a lie if we did so and then were be found out not to ever have interacted with their people? If we say we're enemies then where do we stand? Do they cut us down then?"
"I suppose we tell the truth? That we would like to be friends? We're not foes, and if those are the only two options... Though I wonder why they seem so sure that an enemy won't lie? Can they all detect truth, like some sages?"
"I suppose we should consider the possibility. It's just hard to reconcile the notion that they understand truth when they don't understand the truth of Sedenya - may her name be hallowed for eternity." Xerxis touches his head ritually.
"There are many truths, and all are aspects of her truth..." Oheha says almost dreamily. "They know her truth, too. They just don't know that they know it, yet. But if we learn what they do know, we get closer to seeing her truth from all sides." She chuckles. "And if we get any more philosophical, we'll be discussing the sound of one hand clapping, and trees that fall when you aren't looking."
Xerxis looks around forlornly for a moment at the landscape. "I'm in love with the idea of owning land, of course. But at this point, I'm having trouble envisioning a villa here."
He cocks his head, looking at a particular patch skeptically, "I suppose there's a lot to explore, yet. Still, I'm just not seeing it, and I need a place - well - a place for my books. It's just not fit for them to be forever traveling, or living in a tent. They need a study, where they can be at rest, and put to proper use."
"Just what sort of buildings do you suppose we can make here?" he says, the thought striking him out of his reverie suddenly. "Do we build like the natives, or like back home?"
She grins. "Depends on what you mean by 'back home'. Your home, my home...? We need buildings that will work under these conditions. The native buildings work, we know that much. Our ideas may be better, or may not work at all, and we won't know until we try. I'd guess that anything that works in a Darjiini swamp will work in this one, but I'm only guessing. Their reeds won't be as good as ours, that's for sure."
Xerxis gets a very complicated look on his face - somewhat intrigued, and somewhat repulsed, "Yes, I suppose that Darjiini building technique would be the best given the terrain. I've never seen a weeder...house. Most of my experience with Darjiini have been with the hill folk. They had some very impressively decorated halls. What are weeder buildings like?"
Xerxis is imagining a hut made of reeds bent inwards together to form a dome in the middle of the swamp - and standing hip deep in the water indoors. Or, perhaps sitting in canoes all the time. He realizes that this is likely absurd, but he can't get the vision out of his head. Looking at the landscape he then imagines a reed hut wedged between the rocks so that it won't blow away.
She almost laughs at the look on his face. Almost, but not quite. "Crannogs, I think you'd call them. Stilt huts. If we can find the wood, that is. Alder's good, it doesn't rot in the water, and I saw some growing a day or so back. Don't worry, your books will stay dry."
All very far from the Carmanian villa that he'd been imagining having his books in a bit before. At one point he'd even envisioned a tower from which he could look out over the land while he read in the room at the top. The problem was that he just isn't sure what was realistic at this point. It seemed actually as likely (more likely, really) that they'd all end up starving to death, looking at the land about them. How were they going to feed 100 men? Starting soon when the rations ran out? Not much coin left between this lot after the long trip here.
Xerxis feels a sudden need to get working on...something. The real problem is that he isn't sure just what use a fledgling village will have for a man of letters or a wizard. He'd have to find a niche soon - his imagination gives him a vision of picking up some craft like being a carpenter or something. Just not in his veins, however.
Suddenly a memory of his father rises up in Xerxis' head, a look of admonishment on it. As if to say, "First a scholar at that lowly academy, then a military post, and now look where it's all lead you." Xerxis tries to shut his father out, but he doggedly stays in the back of his mind that look still on his face.
Shaking his head and emerging from his reverie he says offhandedly to Oheha, "So when is he coing to call for us to do something. This waiting is really getting on my nerves."
"Well, I'm not waiting. We need to know where to put the camp, I'm going looking, assuming the boss agrees. Coming?"
"Well I... I'd just be in the way, really. Scouting is your area of expertise," he says trying to look like he's not shirking (but fooling nobody), when actually he's repulsed by the idea of traipsing through the bogs out there. "I'm going to try to help some of the others with...something we were talking about before...over there."
As he goes, again carefully watching his step, he thinks to himself: crannogs? Intriguing idea, but practical? Certainly there was enough dry land to build on here. Or did Oheha know something that he didn't?
The small duck listens in to the conversation about building shelters then flaps his arms and runs in small circles before speaking to his new friend and leader.
"There is no wood here for building but my people in Duckpoint may twade with us. They would most likely give you the twees in weturn for help in raids against the Dancers."
Porta looks speculatively at the small duck running around in a cloud of feathers. When Aix has said his piece, Porta's face lights up in a mischievous grin. "Trade, eh? Sounds good to me. I doubt these windbags have encountered a proper trader before. Sure, we've a few things to offer to your friends as well, Aix - we have cattle, iron goods, charms and fetishes, our skills and knowledge - not to mention bringing the light of the Goddess onto them..."
Porta smiles as Aix automatically genuflects towards the Red Moon to the north.
"I'm sure you're not the only durulz to see the advantage of joining the Empire. There must be more of your kind, fed up with being bullied and belittled by your neighbours. You should talk to them and show the the Way... but what are these Dancers that you talk about?"
Aix flaps his stubby arms and clacks his beak a few times, as if trying to find the right words, before he gives his answer "The marsh is owned by a powerful magician who welies on the dead to pwotect the place. Not only does he own it but he is also expands its boundawies continually. The dancers of darkness do this, they are powerful vampires and use stwong magic to turn good land into marsh. The Hueymakti kill them when they find them but are always happy to have help in the hunts."
"So if we help your friends killing a few Vivamorti, they will in turn reward us with building materials and supplies? Should not be a problem. These undead have not encountered readers of the Light of Action (2) before, I'd say. And we have a few good undead-killers in our ranks. The somewhat noisy Ash comes to mind. What more can you tell us of the vampires and this magician?"
2 'The Light of Action' is an acknowledged Imperial treatise on warfare.
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