From Stone to the Stars

21.0 Hearth and Home
[X] [Lake] Maintain the settlement, but mix in a noticeable number of the People, primarily shaman and warriors. (++++ Luxuries, ++ Crafts, + Materials, - Martial, - Magic)
[X] [North] Upgrade the Cave of Stars into a full fledged settlement. (+ Staples, + Luxuries)
[X] [War] No.

The years after the fall of Arrow Lake were filled with quiet grumblings. It had not come to — much — violence like some part of Luule feared it would. There were still disagreements, fights had started for all the same old reasons that they had in the past, but it was normal. If anything, Luule considered it to be less than normal. She had grown up nearly on the field of battle among warriors. Now, there was no longer a war to fight.

For a time, it had looked like South Reach might end up forcing the People back into war, purely because they didn't seem to get the message that the People were finished, but a quick counter raid bloodied their noses and made them think better of it. The series of follow up vengeance strikes from the Mountain Clans confirmed that further war with the People was impossible.

It was strange, to take a breath and simply be able to exhale slowly without fear, without disruption.

Within the first year, most of Arrow Lake's infrastructure had been rebuilt and was operating, if at reduced capacity. So many of their people had been slain. Walking through Arrow Lake, it was an easy assumption to make that its inhabitants were only able to give birth to women; men were profoundly rare. Arrow Lake had suffered greatly under the People's fury. Little was destroyed; farms that had been fallow were easily replanted, untended forests could once again been groomed in a pleasing way, and abandoned mines could be exploited for their wealth.

It wasn't until immigrants from the People came in that things slowly returned to normal. Most of the men within Arrow Lake had been wiped out; perhaps one of eight over the age of adulthood still lived, a nearly fatal blow to an entire generation, but it was one that could heal, especially with immigration to replace lost fathers. It was almost convenient; the People had long had a history of encouraging their menfolk to marry far from their families.

In fact, there had been an enormous rush of marriages; nearly every immigrant that moved to Arrow Lake would find themselves a wife or three within a few moons. It had been a surprise to hear; Luule thought there would be a lot more resentment due to all the brothers, fathers, and cousins who had been slain. There was some, but not nearly as much as she had feared there would be.

The Ember-Eyes were, perhaps unsurprisingly, the most popular. All across the People, the Ember-Eyes had risen to prominence. Fire-Eaters, Scalded-Scions, Heaven's Light, Luule had rapidly forgotten all the praises heaped upon them. It had gotten so bad, that at times the Ember-Eyes reminded her of shimmer birds; their chests puffed out while they pranced around and preened over alleged great deeds. Plenty of people, from youthful followers to entranced elders, hung on their words.

It made Luule role her eyes. She preferred a bit more gab and a lot less puffed up greatness in her leaders.

What Luule hadn't expected, was how popular the Frost-Scarred had become among the remnants of Arrow Lake. With the destruction of their polity, there had been something akin to a rejection of Arrow Lake culture. They had been a people obsessed with symbols, awards, and status signalling. One of the highest virtues that an individual could aspire to (aside from war) was artistic carvings. Slaves had been liberated due to the beauty of their carvings and become major influence peddlers in their own right.

The Frost-Scared were the opposite of that. They disdained art and the creature comforts; they felt that it made them weak. "A man has no fur, no fangs, and no claws. We were born into this world with nothing, and like that we shall remain." As their leaders said. Instead of a collection of material goods, the People should aspire to greatness by carving it into their body with toil and blood. For most, that meant taking pride in the scars received over the course of many challenges and a hard life. Some had taken it further, literally carving symbols into their flesh in order to represent their deeds.

There was some artistic sense there, Luule thought, but it was nearly alien to the sensibilities of Arrow Lake. Nearly alien, perhaps that was the key. The appreciation for aesthetics were still there, in both groups, even if of a different type.

It was... it was like they were a clay vessel, waiting to be filled. Something about how the survivors of Arrow Lake approached their own culture; the symbols, the dances, the music, and celebrations, all of it seemed exaggerated and half-remembered, like children emulating their parents. They had always been a garish tribe, even by the People's standards, obsessed with their colours and their performances. Seeing everything up close, and being invited to participate, it made Luule feel like she was staring into cool, smooth waters only to see her own reflection staring back at her. She huffed; that didn't make sense. It was like Arrow Lake's survivors were actors, rather than participants.

Whether they were Frost-Scarred or Ember-Eyed, the shaman that moved into Arrow Lake were greeted far more warmly than the warriors, hunters, and farmers that followed. They weren't fully rejected, in Luule's estimation, but whatever spark had caused the Holy Ones to be accepted, didn't seem to translate fully. Still, that was a wound that would simply take time to heal. Arrow Lake needed the infusion of new blood. One man may serve as well as two in a pinch when it came to finding husbands, but that left their children with precious few options to marry outside their family in the next generation.

After Arrow Lake was finally resettled, their fields, farms, and forests renewed, wealth seemed to pour into the People in amounts unending. Arrow Lake had always maintained a very tight hold on the trade of lapis lazuli, offering only a limited selection of the priceless blue stones; most of what they produced was used internally. So much of the stone had been mined that even their Indebted were allowed to carry jewelry made from it! The wealth... Luule's mind twisted trying to contextualize that piece of information. Most of the People only ever saw lapis lazuli as offerings to the graves of deceased loved ones. Pareem occasionally wear it ground into a dye to indicate their willingness to kill and die for the People and some shaman used it to heighten their connections with the spirits, but outside of a few wealthy individuals, lapis lazuli was used rarely at most.

There was some bitterness among those of Arrow Lake when their lapis lazuli was redirected to the People's other settlements, but that abated once sugar, crystal, pearl, salt, and obsidian flowed back in. The former traders who had once dealt in only small amounts of goods quickly leveraged their existing connections. They worked with Pareem from their home settlements and cut deals with the few surviving patrons of Arrow Lake. Trade networks turned into friendship, favours, and eventually marriage as many of the traders undeniably attained the quality of Pareem.

To a great extent, Luule expected that, what she hadn't was the role the former Northlanders played in making the integration possible. Not a single member of the tribe had settled in Arrow Lake, many of them felt it far to warm and stifling since their caribou could not stand the summers. Instead, they had settled around the Cave of Stars. It was a peculiar choice, but it was one that Jeree had strongly endorsed. His people had abandoned their old ways in the north, settling at the People's spiritual heart would make that separation complete.

It had taken convincing and enticement since many of the Northerners feared the Cave. In truth, seeing the looks on many of the northerners faces, Luule felt that their relationship with the Cave of Stars went far beyond fear. "It pulls at our souls," they would say. "The Cave is hungry and Devours in the dark of night." It was superstition, Jeree had always laughed good-naturedly. Old folk remembering scary campfire stories from before the Bloody Chief.

Luule did not ask why the good natured smile never reached Jeree's eyes.

While the Northerners were settled, calling them that was a misleading statement. A large portion of their population did settle down; mixing and inter-marrying with the shaman and those few settlers who had set up near by to support them. A large percentage of the Northerners stayed mobile, walking their herds of caribou up and down the banks of the Great River. The land was unsettled except for a few stations near the Fire Relay and perfectly suited for caribou.

It was largely spontaneous, but a day of celebration was held whenever the herd returned to one of the People's settlements. Not only did the herds bring enough easily slain meat meat that everyone could eat their fill, but they came replete with crafts, luxuries, and other goods. A caribou was a strong beast and it could carry a lot on their winding journey through the wilderness. Using the herders as intermediate traders would never be a quick way to transport trade goods, but it was easy. A little bit of planning was necessary on Luule's part to optimize the routes, but it became slowly obvious that it worked better over time. The herders were already on the move, why not ask them to carry a bit extra on their journey?

All together, the Northerners had tied themselves closely to the People. Luule was certain that by the time she died, there would be few people that remembered that they were once different. The People had changed, perhaps as much the two tribes they had newly conquered.

Nowhere was that more evident than in the People's festivals, the days of practice didn't change, but the traditions certainly did. Archery, wrestling, kicking, staff fighting, swimming, running, and canoe racing had all been traditional competitions on feast days. Aside from the fires, music, and food, they were the primary entertainment and attracted a surfeit of eager young men, looking to prove themselves before all of their friends and relatives.

The former inhabitants of Arrow Lake unveiled their own contests; beautiful carvings, new songs, painting, and stone throwing. Instead of the People's martial pursuits, the former inhabitants focused much more on art and culture. Provided you were of the right sort, Luule acknowledged. The former Indebted had been barred from participating.

It was when the Northlanders brought out their games that Luule started to worry. They prized skill with the javelin above all and focused greatly on its accuracy. They also excelled a hide and hunt, a training exercise where hunters would try to track each other down in turn. For crafts, they focused on weaving small talismans from loose tufts of caribou hair or carving beauty into ivory tusks.

The biggest competition among the Northlanders, was caribou riding. Each caribou had to be trained systematically by its raider; it wasn't possible to interchange them. If a rider's caribou died, it meant they would have to undergo training from the beginning. As such, the Northlanders valued skill in breaking and riding new caribou. The Northlanders' caribou weren't a timid sort like deer or mindlessly aggressive like moose. Instead, their instinct was to freeze and refuse to move. Then, they would begin to buck, trying to throw off their rider. Whoever could stay on their mount longest won.

When the People tried this competition, several caribou were injured. The People were simply too heavy; they tended to be two full handspans taller than their Northlander cousins.

Since they didn't want to be outdone, several of the People's young men brought an orker.

Luule didn't realize the sheer foolishness — an orker was at least five times the size of a caribou — until she heard shouts of competition turn into screams of pain. By the time she arrived, all that remained of the riding pen was smashed kindling. The injured were everywhere, dashed against the ground and nearby buildings. Jeree stood in the middle of the chaos, a faint hiss leaking from his lips as he stared down the enraged orker. Behind him, a whimpering boy lay.

The orker charged, hooves tearing up the soft turf with each step. It was comical, seeing Jeree stare down death. He was unarmed, not having time to gather his weapons. If Jeree stepped to the side, the orker would charge and obliterate him. The longer he stood still, the longer the screams and chaos would have to work on the maddened beast.

Obviously, in such a hopeless situation, Jeree the Trickster charged. Twisting like a great cat he leaped, fluttering and barely clearing the orker's flashing jaws. He tumbled across the creature's back, spinning to his feet and unleashing a fanged growl. The orker squealed and shock the earth with another charge. Jeree's second dodge sent him scrambling through the dirt as he dived to the side.

Luule's heart was in her throat as she watched Jeree duck and dodge. Every movement was life-or-death. Jeree was hampered by the wrecked and injured around him. Numerous individuals, from children to fully fledged adults, were spread across the ground, broken by the orker's passing. Some were trapped under wood and brick wreckage, others were simply too injured to move. All it would take is an errant hoof to crush them to death; Jeree had little room to dodge without sacrificing one of the wounded to the orker's path.

Some part of Luule's mind knew that the warriors should be responding soon, coming in force to slay the threat to the People's safety. Their response would take time, however. Precious time that burned away like black char and brought Jeree closer and closer to death.

He couldn't dodge forever and he had no knife or blade on him. Orkers were almost impossible to kill. Their only weakness, the only way to kill them quickly, was a gap behind their massive, flanged skull in between their shoulder blades. Anything less would bleed them — slowly — and only serve to enrage them further. Every other method of combat was a story, a fireside epic told by those looking to embellish with tall tales.

Jeree slipped, his foot sliding across the soft turf. The orker's head was there in an instant, bashing him aside with an audible crack that cut through the surrounding screams of the injured.

The Horned Rider's grin never waved.

Instead of crushing the impudent bug, the orker slid and crashed through the side of a longhouse. The wall offered all the resistance of wet tree leaves. There was a thin line of blood on the orker's head as it stomped back into the light outside the longhouse. Dust blasted of its form with each heaving breath.

Something in Luule's mind urged her to act. "Jeree!" she shouted, hurling the first thing she could get her hands on.

It was a broken stick, broad-headed and unwieldy, a remnant of what had once been a section of fencing. It was useless. No spear-point adorned its head, a great weight did not sit behind its blows. It was refuse.

Jeree seized it and swung at the passing orker, overbalancing and sending himself sprawling from the force of the blow. The stick exploded and the orker tottered unsteadily on its hooves. It seemed to shudder, front leg curled up and unable to hold the beast's massive weight. Luule thought she heard something that could have passed for a hiss of pain.

Something flashed and an arrow sprouted from the orker's flank. A dozen more quickly followed to the orker's protest. The hunters had arrived, Luule realized, and they were angry. Spears followed as the orker failed to flee and its knees buckled.

It wasn't with any grace that the beast was butchered. It was just stabbed again and again and again until it no longer moved. The hunters stabbed it several more times for good measure.

The beast died and Jeree dropped.

"What were you thinking?!" Luule near shouted.

"The problem..." the Trickster whispered, "Was that I wasn't doing enough of it. I'd dodged it a couple times, what was a dozen more?" Jeree's eyes shut and he let out a slow, shuddering breath. "My everything hurts." One of his eyes quirked open, conveying what Luule could only call a smile without his face ever moving. "Kiss it better?"

Luule didn't know whether to scream, or to accept.

A group of young men became... overambitious during a small, local festival. As a result, Jeree single-handedly stalled an orker for several minutes while unarmed. How is this event remembered?

[ ] [Orker] It wasn't. It was suppressed as best Luule was able so future generations would not be inspired. (+ Stab)
[ ] [Orker] It was commemorated as a lesson learned from a careless mistake. (-- Stab, + Legitimacy)
[ ] [Orker] It was to be commemorated in festival. (Annual Festival)
[ ] [Orker] It was a route cause of a deeper problem, one that needed significant thought. (???)

Pick: 3 Actions, 3 Empowerment, 1 Admin, 1 Art, and 1 Martial Action.
Annual Festival [Art] - The People deserve to party! Build morale by opening up the stockpiles and having a night of feasts, dancing, music and fun. Cost: Luxuries, Staples. Produces: Legitimacy.

Artisans [Art] [Elitism] - A very rare occupation, artisans are the group of individuals which make things beautiful. Their work can most often be found within the People's temples or adorning the bodies of the rich and powerful. To be an artisan means to be a craftsmen that's a cut above even the rest. Costs: Materials, Craftworks. Produces: Luxuries.

Building Breweries [Art] [Admin] [Vendetta] - An ingenious way to make use of food that would otherwise go to waste, the People regularly make pots full of mashed grains and water that go subtly off. The resulting drink is quite bitter, but also extremely fun! Costs: Staples, Materials. Produces: Luxuries.

Clay Pits [Admin] [Art] - Dirt is not always dirt, as the People have realized. Sometimes, it is stone waiting to be formed. By finding the right source, it's possible to create numerous, useful constructs out of earth. Cost: Staples, Craftworks. Produces: Materials. Significant need.

Craftsmen [Art] - For the most part, the People make their own tools. Mostly they are crude implements of bone, stone and wood, but in recent days there has been the creation of a new group. These individuals create only the finest of crafts, producing tools that last far longer than most would expect. Costs: Staples, Materials. Produces: Craftworks.

Create Warrior Clan [Might Makes Right] [Vendetta] [Elitism] [Martial] [Admin] - The People have warriors well trained in the art of killing. By diverting more young people into these professions, preparations for war can be established. In a way, it is like knapping obsidian into a knife. An action that takes deliberation and planning, forethought, to be useful. Costs: Staples, Craftworks, Luxuries. Produces: Martial.

Encourage Arborists [Admin] - While the forests provide the least of the People's food, they have provided that which is most useful. Sugar is wonderous in taste and highly sought after as a trade goods. Evergreen tea soothes aching bodies and quiets headaches. There is much to be found in the unknown, perhaps rare, but of significant value. Costs: Craftworks, Staples. Produces: Materials.

Expand Farming [Familialism] [Admin] - The People have come to realize the bounty of the world is often not enough. They need to tame it and carefully manage the foods that are so important in sating their appetites. Costs: Nothing. Produces: Staples. (Soft Cap Reached)

Expand Fishing Fleets [Familialism] [Admin] - Most of the People live close to a river and are able to gather one of numerous sources of food. Often much easier to obtain than food from hunting and much less risky, these sources of food are much more vulnerable to shifts of the seasons and that of the weather. Costs: Craftworks. Produces: Staples.

Explore (Specify Direction?) [Mastery of Nature] [Martial] [Diplomacy] - There is much to be found in the world. Countless things, often placed by the hand of the spirits themselves. It is up to the People to find them. Costs: Nothing. Produces: Can reveal new resources.

Found Settlement (includes: Brick Wall, Shrine, Sugar Shack) [Mastery of Nature] [Familialism] [Elitism] [Admin] - While the People build homes where they will, often where food or resources can easily be found, these places are settled without organization or care. By founding a formal settlement, it becomes possible for central authority to exert itself before the People become too fracas. Costs: Materials, Craftworks, Staples, Luxuries, Martial. Produces: More Resource Slots. Current Settlement time based on available resources: 3 turns.

Help Holy Orders [Art] [Martial] [Admin] [Might Makes Right] [Mastery of Nature] - The People have numerous traditions of secretive cults. Groups that practice true magic, something that is rare but unbelievably potent. Provided it is harvest reliably; many have killed themselves in this mad pursuit. Costs: Staples, Craftworks, Luxuries. Produces: Martial, Magic. (Soft Cap Reached)

Make Miners (Crystal) [Art] [Mastery of Nature] - Stone has always been a resource used widely by the People. Not all stone, however, is created equal. Some is better than its cousins, whether because it is harder, sharper, or simply more beautiful. Costs: Staples, Craftworks. Produces: Luxuries. [Hard Cap Reached - Need Exploration]

Make Miners (Lapis Lazuli) [Art] [Mastery of Nature] - Stone has always been a resource used widely by the People. Not all stone, however, is created equal. Some is better than its cousins, whether because it is harder, sharper, or simply more beautiful. Costs: Staples, Craftworks. Produces: Luxuries. [Hard Cap Reached - Need Exploration]

Make Miners (Obsidian) [Art] Mastery of Nature] [Might Makes Right] - Stone has always been a resource used widely by the People. Not all stone, however, is created equal. Some is better than its cousins, whether because it is harder, sharper, or simply more beautiful. Costs: Staples. Produces: Craftworks. [Hard Cap Reached - Need Exploration]

Manage Hunting [Elitism] [Mastery of Nature] [Martial] - Improve upon the hunting techniques of the People. Work to increase the amount of meat that is available to consume and empower the People. A risky activity and one that requires a great investment of skill and energy, this provides the largest gains of food. Cost: Nothing. Produces: Staples, Martial. [Hard Cap Reached]

Raid (Mountain Clans, South Reach, Pearl Divers, Island Makers, Peace Builders, Enemies of the Peace Builders) [Might Makes Right] [Vendetta] [Martial] - The hunting of beasts turns now into the hunting of men. Strike down those who oppose the People so that we may be kept safe. Cost: Risks Temporary Damage to Martial score. Produces: Dead Enemies.

Study (Travel, Fire, Stone, Life, Beasts, Magic) [Art] - The world works in mysterious ways. It is not incomprehensible, however, merely opaque. The People just need time in order to unravel the hidden world. Costs: Nothing. Produces: Boosted [Tagged] research.

Sugar Shack [Admin] - The trees are love, the trees are life. Their sweet nectar is something that can be easily boiled down into a substance that can only be called the blessing of the spirits. We. Need. MORE! Costs: Materials, Staples. Produces: Luxuries.

Trade Caravan [Diplomacy] [Martial] - It is clear that the People do not hold all that is significant within the world. There are other tribes that hold interesting, useful or beautiful objects. By offering up some as gifts, things that the People do not have will be provided in return. Costs: Luxuries, Staples. Produces: Diplomacy, Magic.

Trade Post [Diplomacy] [Admin] - Sometimes other people have things of interest and they come willing to the People's lands in order to offer them up! By being welcoming and accommodating, it would be easily possible to convince them to hand over an even greater fraction of their stuff. Costs: Diplomacy. Produces: Luxuries.

Prepare for Ordeal [Ordeal] [Admin] - The spirits test the People, always. These tests are ones that require careful preparation and forethought. The People will be prepared. A crisis well managed is a sign of spiritual favour, one that's botched causes the People to further suffer. Cost: Nothing. Produces: Bonus to all stability checks this turn.

Empower Actions

Select three individuals to take (1) action on the People's behalf. The same individual may be selected multiple times. Tag votes as [Empower], if someone is being empowered multiple times, use a multiple (x2, x3, etc.).

Elder
Ember-Eye Shaman
Fang Pack-Leader
Frontier Leader
Frost-Scarred Warrior
Headman of Crystal Lake
Headman of Fingers
Headman of Hill Guard
Horned Rider
Lawspeaker
Star Shaman
Trader
Urbanite
War Chief

Megaprojects:

Artificial River [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The Dam [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Inspired by the feats of ingenuity demonstrated by a large, but common, rat, the People have decided to emulate their creations on a more massive scale. By blockaded a river, it would be possible to accumulate an enormous amount of water, something that could easily be put to use. Costs: Craftworks, Materials. Produces: Staples.

The World, A Shield [Mastery of Nature] [Might Makes Right] [Martial] [Admin] (12 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The World in Miniature [Mastery of Nature] [Diplomacy] [Admin] (7 actions) - The world is a grand place, seemingly endless in scope. The People's exploration and search for wonders has pushed them to find a way to more effectively communicate discoveries with each other. Trail markers are a start, but they are not easily portable. More can be done. Costs: Magic? Produces: Efficiency.

A Temple, Grand [Mastery of Nature] [Elitism] [Art] (8 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The Sisters Three [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

A Field of Gold [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

Extended Projects:

Archaic Charcoal Kilns (Arrow Lake, Hill Guard, Cave of Stars) [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] [Art] - The Ember-Eyes have discovered a secret of wood and fire. By carefully burning it, they can render it blackened and fragile. Somehow, this makes fire burn far hotter. How is it the elements dance when burning wood is not the same as wood cooked by fire? Costs: Staples, Craftworks. Produces: Greatly Elevated Materials Efficiency.

Extend Fire Relay (Hill Guard, Arrow Lake) [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] - The Fire Relay has served as the backbone of the People's communication and movement between The Fingers and Crystal Lake for longer than memory. With the recent founding of Hill Guard, the vaunted relay no longer stitches the People from one end to the other. This oversight must be corrected. Costs: Craftworks, Staples. Produces: General Efficiency.

Raise Temple (Arrow Lake) [Admin] [Art] (2 Actions) - A ritual place where the spirits and those they touch can work. Special facilities for magic, resources, teachings and the spirits themselves are included. Costs: Materials, Craftworks, Luxuries, Magic. Produces: Mysticism.

The Hill (The Fingers, Cave of Stars, Arrow Lake) [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (2 Actions) - A hill made by man. A simple construct, but one that greatly raises the defensive value of a settlement. Costs: Materials, Craftworks, Martial. Produces: Defense.

New Trails [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (4/15 Actions) - Inspired by the Fire Relay, these small trails are cut into the innumerable forests that surround the People. Serving as akin to veins in the body, they promote the free movement of goods and people. Costs: Staples, Craftworks. Produces: Efficiency, increases Soft Resource Cap.

Note: Failing to take a [Mastery of Nature] action will cost Stability! Can Double Down at cost of 15 Stability on an action by adding a sub tag to that specific action.

AN: Vote is currently locked until a threadmark is put up in the morning.
 
21.1 Hiilja
[X] [Orker] It was to be commemorated in festival. (Annual Festival)
[X] Plan Admin Overboost v3
-[X][Action] Clay Pits [Admin] [Art]
-[X][Action] Craftsmen [Art]
-[X][Action] Hearty Herders [Admin] [Mastery of Nature] [Familialism]
-[X][Admin] Archaic Charcoal Kilns (Cave of Stars) [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] [Art]
-[X][Art] Raise Temple (Arrow Lake) [Admin] [Art]
-[X][Double Down] Raise Temple (Arrow Lake) [Admin] [Art]
-[X][Martial] Explore (Route between Crystal Lake and Fingers) [Mastery of Nature] [Martial] [Diplomacy]
-[X][Empowerment] Headman of Fingers -> Hearty Herders
-[X][Empowerment] Star Shaman -> Study Magic
-[X][Empowerment] Horned Rider -> Hearty Herders

The day was far to hot to be wearing formal clothes, but Luule didn't have a choice. Delegates had arrived from the Island Makers in the south, asking to see the People. She remembered the stories from the Weeping Warrior, and how Arrow Lake had come in the arrogance to subjugate the People. The appearance of weakness was a dangerous thing, and she had more than enough weakness to see.

Luule greeted the representative from the Island Makers with a wide smile before she waddled back to her seat. She missed seeing her feet, she thought. Had it only been half a moon since she had last seen them? The throne on which she sat was simple, constructed from brick but specially padded with mastodon fur. Jeree had been the one to retrieve the fur for her, claiming a generous portion from a kill team he'd participated in, and she greatly appreciated the gesture. The entire ensemble was supposed to be a distant adaptation for weakened Big Men. It wasn't the same system as they used in the old days, but a longer-term replacement.

The fact that it existed at all mystified Luule. Other than pregnant Pareem, where the People ever lead by someone who was weak or infirm? It was doubtful that the People would ever have needed such a thing.

Across from the Luule in the petitioner's chair, was a man that stood in complete contrast to her. Where she had bright feathers, belts of seashells and jewelry thick enough it clattered when she moved, he was clad in simple buckskin, dyed red. His skin was stained with dark ocher and the underside of his nails were caked with dirt. Compared to her own combed and braided hair, his neatly shorn scaplock shined. Even his size... at the shoulder and across the chest, he must have been twice as wide as Luule herself! At least! Given the massive stone maul sitting at his side, it was likely he needed every single one of those muscles.

The sun had sunk two finger widths from the time of the representative's arrival. He and his guards had spoken slowly, sipping at cups of wintergreen and fireflower tea, while a platter of meat and berries slowly warmed in front of them. It rankled Luule to wait, talking about nothing, while food sat out, uneaten. There had been hunger among the People in recent years. Luule had entrusted the shaman of the Cave of Stars with some of the People's resources and they had spent it on a brewery of all things.

It is necessary to expand our minds,
they had said. It had also drew away precious stocks of corn from the settlement, enough that they were threatened by starvation in the winter. It was only by subtly leaning on the Horned Riders that Luule was able to get supplies rushed to them in time. Some still died, and the People of the Cave of Stars were desperate enough that they'd eaten anything.

The Star Shaman were corrected the year after, and focused on their rituals and their secrets. Still... members of the People had died as a result of the Star Shaman's callous disregard. Food had been taken from their mouths in order to satisfy their petty wants. And they were petty wants, Luule knew; regardless of how much Jeree tried to convince her that the Star Shamans' work was necessary. One could commune with the spirits locked in the vault below ground just as well as they could incapacitated by drink.

Beyond that, the situation was only made more complicated by the reason the Star Shaman has miscalculated the availability of food. The Fangs had, apparently, been systematically under reporting their demand of food for years. In of itself, it wasn't a significant amount compared to the People's full resources, a part of ten split by ten again, but, it combined with the Star Shaman's decision, was enough to trigger starvation.

The duplicity had been so subtle that it had operated completely below Luule's notice. The Temple in Hill Guard had been under reporting the amount of food and luxuries they had been consuming for years. That was at the very least! It had gone so far back, Luule wasn't even certain when it had started. The corruption had simply become something expected and she'd never known any differently. When the Star Shaman checked the records, they assumed there would be food, but there was actually not.

The entire situation needed correction. Starvation was deeply uncommon among the People. There was occasionally lone farmsteads, hunting lodges, or caravans of lost travelers that starved, but on this scale? The hunger and other things it had brought on were virtually unknown on this scale.

Where should Luule focus and emphasize punishment?

[ ] [Starve] Censure the Star Shaman for their recklessness. (-1 RA, - Stability)
[ ] [Starve] Censure the Fangs for their duplicity. (-1 RA, - - Stability)
[ ] [Starve] A crime was done, an unspeakable thing by those who needed to eat. Punish them. (- Stability)
[ ] [Starve] Do nothing in this situation, no one person was really at fault. (- Legitimacy)
[ ] [Starve] Take the blame. The Pareem were, ultimately, the leaders and they are responsible. (- - - Legitimacy)

Luule wondered if her counterpart among the Island Makers ever had to solve situations like that. She doubted it; the Island Makers were like mastodon: slow, plodding, and deliberate. Everything had its place and nothing was out of place. Farming was a scared duty to them and improper farming, anything that would cause starvation, would call for blood.

In some ways, it was a better system; Luule doubted there would be starvation there. It just meant giving up on your hiilja, your soul. For every member of the People, Kaspar-In-Flesh was the ideal and epitome of everything you should aspire to be. He had been wise, dignified and possessed an undeniable gravity that bent the world to his will.

"Walk like them, until they must walk like you."

Those were the last words he spoke, before his death. Not that it was a true death. His spirit, his hillja, had expanded, grown after being carefully fed and nurtured so that it could escape the prison of his body. It was in that form he ascended to sit at the side of the spirits. He had become so like they, that they must become like he.

That was the ambition of every member of the People, from Pareem to the lowest Debtor, to grow in spirit until they could live beyond death. At the end of that road was KASPAR-IN-TRUTH, at the side of the spirits.

The Island Makers gave up on that journey, however. They surrendered a chance with the spirits for the comforts of food and home and family; a legacy of cooperation instead of ascendance. It made Luule's skin crawl, smiling in thanks as the Island Makers' representative offered a sparkling gift of mica in thanks and in appreciation of her beauty. No compliment he offered on her eyes would blind her to the fact his hiilja was shriveled.

Still, none of that was a reason to dispense with politeness and courtesy. Luule just wished the representative would hurry up, she wasn't able to go as long with out trips to relieve herself as she was normally!

Rattle-rattle! Rattle-rattle!

Luule almost jumped out of her skin as a mask of blue-and-white descended from the ceiling. Thick blue wedges over the fitted ivory mask brought attention to twin chips of quartz at the center. The lower part of the mask was stained with old blood; there was no visible mouth, but Luule was certain that Jeree was grinning broadly.

"Hold," she said immediately. The Island Makers' representative was half out of his seat, great maul gripped tightly in white-knuckled fingers. It doesn't even tremble in his grip, Luule realized, fixating on the great maul she could never lift. The representative was strong!

"Jeree."

He just grinned the damnable grin, sliding ceiling tiles back into place behind him. He rolled, displaying unusual grace and flexibility as he dropped to the ground and landed with a quick bounce on his feet. "Luule," he responded.

The grin grew.

"Forgive him," Luule sighed and asked the representative. "He's been getting over-ambitious about his place." Said over-ambitious individual took a seat at her right side. He stretched in obvious pleasure before curling up, eyes on the representative.

"If that is so, I shall move on to the point: I have come to ask that you forbid the Scorched-Ones and other shaman from accompanying your traders." He seemed to hesitate, mulling over the next point. "The Scorched-Ones have a place among the Twin-Souled People. Among my own, they insert themselves where they are not needed. They talk when there should be silence and offer rudeness when there should be peace. Their interruptions no longer have a place among the Tenders of the Chorus."

Since when had the People sent shaman on trade missions? Luule could hear the sincerity of the request in the Island Maker's request, but shaman offered nothing in trade. Well, not nothing; Luule recalled old stories of the Ember-Eyes giving the secret of bricks to the ungrateful tribe of Arrow Lake, or helped the Pearl Divers expand the salterns. Those were still only indirect benefits, however; the salterns produced precious salt that the People could use or trade forward, and the walls of Arrow Lake centered around mines of lapis lazuli, protecting them from raiders from the mountains.

Those indirect improves had taken generations and countless shaman. It would be impossible to organize such an undertaking and have it completely slip Luule's notice. She wasn't that blind... an image of the horrors of those found starving, devoured inside and out, at the foot of the Cave of Stars flashed in her eyes.

"How do the Ember-Eyes sow discord in the Chorus of the Mother?" Jeree asked.

The representative of the Island Makers seemed to relax. "They talk and talk and talk. They tell stories, ones that never tumbled from the lips of Earth-Mother. When they are laughed at, the fire behind their eyes bursts into being. They bring fear and intimidation for those that would ignore their ravings. For those who listen and become like them, they offer favour and succor. In one hand is warmth, in the other a scourge."

Jeree seemed to nod. "And to the Chorus, this brings great pain. The Ember-Eyes do not bring goods like they are supposed to; they bring words that are strange and unwanted. They foster disharmony."

Wasn't it the purpose of shaman to remember stories and secrets? To learn new ones so that they could offer good advice to leaders in crisis? To Luule, the Ember-Eyes sharing stories with the... Choristers, she believed they were called — was no different than traders haggling over pretty stones.

Did stories even have that much worth? Luule knew that the secrets of childbirth were critical and widely applicable, but was that true for the secrets of the weather? Up north, where the Northlanders used to reside, the Painted Wind soared across the sky most evenings. At the Fingers, it was present often, but not at all times. That was not the only difference: the white blotch was said to be greater in the south as well. The snows were greater around the Fingers, but tapered off in both north and south. There were countless other things the shamans knew; some useful, many useless.

However... Jeree didn't seem to think the same. His mind was twisted all up in knots by Luule's reckoning. He thought in ways that made absolutely no sense to her. It was like dealing with an arrogant little being, perfectly content to warm itself in the sun while its machinations unwound throughout the world. She'd been with him long enough to read that he wasn't concerned by the Island Maker's words, but it had brought him to attention.

Jeree blinked thrice.

"Forgive me." Luule laid a hand upon her stomach. "Would it be possible for us to adjourn? I have found my appetite growing mightily these last few moons." With a nod, the Island Maker hefted up his great maul and turned to leave. "Are there other appointments to be seen this day?"

"The Soft Hearts," Jeree sighed. "They've come with a 'thousand, thousand' pardons, asking for their handout. It was late this year. A few more petitioners; people seeking redress, ending grievances... The list is long."

Luule sighed, responding after the door to her audience chamber finally clattered shut. "What caught your attention about the Island Makers' situation?"

"Everything has a place, everything in its place. It's their entire way of thinking," Jeree explained. "Aside from their love of the earth and grand projects, the Island Makers value stability above all. Everyone gets to speak their piece, even if their Great Chief rules by command, all those below are still involved. They have councils upon councils, endless debates and sub-chiefs for everything. One of the warrior-traders told me once that they have a chief in charge of shit."

Luule's nose wrinkled. "I have some doubt about that."

"I'd trust the man with my life." Jeree shrugged. "Perhaps not my prettiest seashell, however."

Luule slugged him. Not hard, but enough for him to know that she had made contact with his shoulder.

"But that chief, the chief of shit, is exactly the problem; it's a job no one wants to do. They have to, though; at least, until an ambitious Ember-Eye comes along, telling our stories. Seize the day, only blood washes out blood, your soul is yours to nourish with glory and victory. How must that sound to a lowly shit digger."

"But not everyone can nourish their soul," Luule protested. "Only the best can build their hiilja to the point where they can follow in the footsteps of the Great Ones Who Came Before."

"And only the greatest of the great can carve their own unique path into the spirit world and name themselves our gods. Aside from Kaspar-In-Flesh, who else managed that? The Weeping Warrior? The Whisper Maid? Do you think the average shit flinger or ditch digger realizes that?"

"They don't," Luule said, catching on. "To someone who's only heard the stories, but doesn't really understand, they'll assume that they are going to be god and put down their shovel. Once that happens... for ever craftsmen, there's four or five people who farm, fish or hunt. For ever Pareem, there are several dozen. They could collapse."

"Without a good leader, it's possible," Jeree admitted. "Not immediately, maybe, but it will definitely wound them. The questions is, how do we avoid this wound? Or do we encourage it?"

How do the People react to the Ember-Eyes attempts to spread their stories and influence outside the tribe?

[ ] [Preach] Officially disallow the practice and work to stamp it out. (- Stability, - Legitimacy, -1 Religious Authority)
[ ] [Preach] Turn a blind eye to the practice and let it continue. (- - Legitimacy)
[ ] [Preach] Permit it only with direct sanction of the Pareem. (- - Stability)
[ ] [Preach] Encourage the Ember-Eyes and look to take advantage of the situation. (+ Stability)

AN: Vote is in Moratorium. When I open it, there will be additional options for research focus since you've finished up a few new techs.
 
21.2 Purpleheart
[X] [Starve] Censure the Fangs for their duplicity. (-1 RA, - - Stability)
[X] [Preach] Encourage the Ember-Eyes and look to take advantage of the situation. (+ Stability)
[X] [Tree] Coppicing (Reduced ecological impact of forestry) [Easy]
[X] [Caribou] Increased Size (Expanded pool of possible Horned Riders) [Moderate]
[X] [Dog] Herding Dogs (Staples: Increase return from Herding-type buildings) [Moderate]

This... was likely the best breakfast that Jeree had ever tasted. Boiled quinoa and maple sugar. How had the gods not seen fit to grace him with this wisdom sooner? He had tried everything; simple fare like the platters of smoke fish and dried fruits that many fellow shaman preferred; a handful of pemmican sweetened with lard and berries like warriors preferred; or even the steamed corn cakes that were so popular among children.

Still, it was an extravagance to be able to afford maple sugar with every breakfast. Meh. That just made him eccentric; he was too wealthy and influential to be spirit-touched.

Jeree stopped, spoon half forgotten in the midst of his hot cereal.

Too rich to be spirit-touched. He was a hypocrite. Jeree felt the spirits, they were the wind in his hair when he ran among the willows. They wormed their way up from the depths of the earth and blossomed into countless beasts of every type. He could hear their whispers whenever he stalked the dark places of his mind and the deep parts of the world.

It was the spirit-touched that the People called when they needed help, when they found something they couldn't explain. Jeree remembered when he had been training with the Star Shaman; his teacher, Guutz, had received a call, something unusual had happened at a nearby logging camp had deeply spooked those living there. When the pair had arrived, they discovered a young woman nursing two young children. They were twins... but not. Each infant was attached to the other at the chest and along the stomach. They were one being.

The sight had utterly stumped Jeree and left his teacher speechless. What was there to say? It was well known that women sometimes gave birth to things that were... wrong. Some simply bleed and bleed, death issuing forth from their wombs. Others brought babies into the world, only for them to never draw breath. Some women simply died; slain by children unborn, or dying in the birthing bed.

This, however, this two-as-one person, was a virtual unknown. Even after consulting with the others at the Cave of Stars, the spirits were silent and the People's memories void.

In the end, Jeree's mentor had spoken with the mother and heard her story. She had been married to two men, brothers, and born one twin for each of them. His mentor believed that the children's souls had been confused. They were of shared blood, but they were not fully of one blood. Their souls had meshed, interwoven, and then their bodies grew to match their shared souls. The woman was advised to maintain only one of her husbands in the future to prevent any more two-as-one infants.

The advice would work.

As for the children already born? Let them grow properly, Guutz had said, Entrust them to us. They were two-as-one, the soul that resided in their bodies would be an indomitable one. Perfect for training in the shaman's secret ways. The two-as-one were born into this world and survived, why upset the spirits by trying to separate them? Any injury inflicted, even by the most highly skilled shaman for medical reasons, carried the risk of death; either immediately from blood loss, or in lingering days from wound-rot. To cut the two-as-one into one would be impossible.

Jeree recalled the relief in the woman's eyes as they had turned to leave with her 'child'. She had an answer, it had not be a curse of the spirits laid upon her. What happened was a simple mistake, an accident, and the shaman had come to clean up the result.

He still recalled the suspicious eyes that had followed the two of them out. The hidden signs and whispered prayers to silent gods for guidance. Everyone there knew that the two-as-one would be taken by the shaman eventually. Should a monster not be welcomed among its own kindred? Jeree remembered the child they had taken in the years following. Not once did her mother or fathers come to visit her.

Guutz had been oblivious to it all, twitching his hands his hands in sacred rhythms and grinning, off in his own little world visiting the spirits. Jeree recalled every second of it. Every harsh glare and every echoing whisper. He'd been relieved to fail his final test and be cast out from the Star Shaman. Returning home, to the wind and rain, tree and rock was... liberation.

Jeree had taken to the caribou of his homeland like a fish to water. He had found their habits to be a second nature to him. The way they moved, alternating in leadership from male to female across the seasons, bunching together to fight predators, and growing over their short decade and a half of life.

Training to be a Horned Rider took years. Each mount had to be raised from shortly after birth and was not suitable to ride for more than three years. Once fully trained, the average mount would last, barring death or injury, five to seven years. A good Horned Rider had to constantly be training new mounts and that frequently meant taking on apprentices for their help. It was a scattershot system, especially when more than half of apprentices would simply grow up to be to big to ride, but Jeree had always been small.

His lips pulled back, revealing bared teeth. He'd only had to fight off a few bullies in his time. His sister had been amongst the worst. Arrogant, cocksure, convinced in the divine right imbued in her by the spirits. Compared to a simple knife of obsidian, it wasn't worth much.

Hopping to his feet, Jeree stretched. He'd been sitting on a stump, freshly budding with new shoots of life. In the distance, he could hear the shouts from the rest of his party. They were finally getting close, but they were doomed to disappointment; the swamp on the side of the hill they were coming from was impassible. They'd have to detour nearly an hour's ride to the west if they wanted to actually link up with him.

Hoping on top of his mount, Jeree spun his cloak of many colours. Fine dyes, ocher, fallen leaves, gems, and dozens of other pretty baubles crinkled and crackled through the air. The shouts momentarily intensified and Jeree saw a head pop out as one of his companions desperately climbed a tree for a better view. The despair was writ clear on their face when Jeree offered a jaunty wave and then bolted.

"Flee," he hissed at his mount, sending in barreling in the opposite direction. He wasn't worried; that caribou had been the smartest and toughest mount he'd ever trained. The old girl would show up again later. Eventually. After a few hours once his companions had finally run the beast down. Jeree briefly wondered if any of them would cry this time as they realized he was nowhere to be found.

Snapping his death mask down, Jeree pulled his cloak in tightly and changed himself. Like an arrow from a bow, he was off; jumping, hopping, and swinging between the trees. His muscles burned from the unfamiliar exertion, but he moved. A caribou might be akin to his speed across open ground, but among the trackless forests that blanketed the southern world? He was the shadow that slipped the gap between light and dark.

When he had been the one to crush Arrow Lake, it had always amused Jeree that they had been most terrified of his mask. He knew that it was tradition for them to place a mask on the face of each one of their dead, even the Debtors.

They should have been much more weary of his fangs.

Not the actual Fangs, he mused as he catapulted off a root over a muddy mire. They were fearsome, but they had become whipped in recent times. His beloved had been angry with them, perhaps even cruel. Jeree didn't understand the exact intricacies, but it seemed their temple in Hill Guard had been promising more food for the Pareem's use than was actually offered. This had been going on for years beyond count, longer than Luule could determine. It had, however, caused difficulties at the Cave of Stars a few years back. Supplies had been delayed and come up short, sending the entire settlement straight into starvation once winter rolled around.

They started eating each other as a result.

Jeree shrugged. He'd known a lot of people in his childhood who'd ate other people. Cooked, it tasted just like any other meat.

For Luule and the others who'd always lived in the southlands, it was a Big Deal. It just wasn't something that was Done (except at the edges of civilization or during harsh winters, Jeree knew). The fact that some of the People were forced to resort to that while the Fangs stole more than their fair share of food enraged many. Food thieves were hated, beyond even rapists and traitors. Combined with Luule openly censuring them, that anger burned and ignited into violence. The temple at Hill Guard had been damaged by thrown torches and hurled stones, their kennels smashed, and several of the Fangs were killed.

It wasn't a grievous blow to the Fangs, but they had basically left the temple abandoned since then. In a few more years, the rot and decay would seep in and the temple would sustain real, structural damage.

The riot had thrown the Fangs from a central position of prominence to the fringes of civilization.

In some ways, it suited the Holy Order. They had always been of a more bestial sort, only the Horned Riders came close, and even they paled in the final accounting. On the other hand, it had made the Fangs more vicious. They snapped and barked, eyeing the rest of the People with distrust. Instead of a central, civilized role, they submerged themselves within the Hunt, turning their maintenance of the system the People used to master the beasts of nature into a way of life.

To Jeree, it created an opportunity and a concern. With Hill Guard empty, it would be trivial for him to cement the Horned Riders' place by occupying the temple and turning it to their ends. It was almost an ideal structure for the Horned Riders; the Fangs had obviously had many of the same concerns in raising dogs as they did in caribou. Simply replacing the Fangs, however, was likely to breed serious resentment. Even if Jeree worked to mitigate that, to give the Fangs back their place in the People, it would only be a balm on a scalding burn.

Either way, the time to act was drawing to a close. Jeree would need to speak to his beloved soon. It would take time to organize things, more so now that Luule had to concern herself with their children.

How does Jeree react to the expulsion of the Fangs from their Temple?

[ ] [Kick] Moved the Horned Riders into the suitable temple at Hill Guard, forget the Fangs. (+ Stability)
[ ] [Kick] Move the Horned Riders into Hill Guard, push the Fangs even further to the periphery. (- Stability, -0.25 RA)
[ ] [Kick] Move the Horned Riders into Hill Guard and invite back the Fangs. (- - Stability, - Legitimacy)
[ ] [Kick] Give the Fangs back Hill Guard, find something else for the Horned Riders. (- Stability, - Legitimacy, +0.25 RA)
[ ] [Kick] Find another temple for the Fangs while the Horned Riders take Hill Guard. (- Stability, +0.25 RA)

Pulling to a stop, Jeree surveyed his surroundings. He and his companions had been surveying the lands south of the Cave of Stars. Numerous warriors, hunters, and woodsmen had been exploring the region for the past few years, scouting it to learn the lay of the land and determine if there was anything in the region worth taking. The region was riven by rivers and dotted with an endless number of lakes. Jeree heard that there were supposed to be more lakes in the region than there were individuals that made up the People. Some of the lakes were massive, seemingly endless, like a smaller version of the sweetwater seas, but others were glorified puddles.

Along the rivers that led south of the Cave of Stars, the explorers claimed they found a strange bounty. Jeree just hoped it was better than the venomous snakes they found to the west. That had been less than fun, even if their bites were incapable of killing anyone stronger than a tiny child.

Jeree had found the explorers. They were settled in a small clearing, sewn moose-skin tents arranged around a central fire pit. Skewers of meat were roasting while a worker attended a bubbling pot placed in the center of the fire. Leaping down from the tree he'd been standing in, Jeree pulled up short as something thumped into his shoulder. An arrow, a glance revealed. A war arrow, he realized as he pulled it out and snapped it.

At least there was no blood on it, he thought. It didn't actually penetrate.

Standing up slowly, Jeree unfurled his form and stared directly at the panicking bowman who'd shot him. "Sur!" he shouted. "I thought... I saw... I'm sorry! Please don't eat me!"

Pulling up his mask, Jeree made sure to have his most unimpressed look ready. Sure, Luule called it his 'hungry eyes', but all it was just genuine and sincere disappointment. Honest.

"The arrow caught in my skin," he said. "If you're going to shoot me again, at least have the decency to hit somewhere important." Waving off the bowman, Jeree turned to the cook. "Your reports said you found something."

"Please don't be to hard on the lad," the cook asked. "We've had to deal with more than a few attackers trying to ambush us. As for what we found," the cook pointed at a tree, "That one. There's tons more like it, but that's the only one we managed to crack open."

Taking a closer look, the tall tree reminded Jeree of a combination between birch and black cherry. Its bark had the same texture as black cherry, but the colouration was significantly closer to birch. Black knot tumors spidered across one side of the tree, likely being the cause of its death. A hole had been torn in the tree's side; the explorers had cut into the tree with axes looking for firewood, since it was already dead, it should've been an easy cut. At the ground, however, were chips from at least four different axe heads and the broken remains of two more.

Was the tree made of stone? Jeree wondered. Underneath the splintered black knots, beetles and other iridescent insects rooted through rotten wood. It was soft enough that Jeree could break it away with just his hands. Scrubbing the last of the rotted remains away, Jeree squinted. The center of the tree looked like it was made of stone, amethyst specifically. It was still faint, but the purple tinge was undeniable.

It was beautiful and a mere glance showed that those trees infested the surrounding area.

"Sur." One of the explorers approached. "We have a few more samples, if you would like to look. They're different colours, a bit, but we have everything from dawn's first light to amethyst and even blackberry. All of them from that type of tree."

Seeing the range of colours, Jeree agreed. That tree was beautiful.

A new Luxury resource (Exotic Hardwood) has been discovered by the People. How should they secure it?

[ ] [Tree] Work on expanding the grove. (Encourage Arborists)
[ ] [Tree] Have the shaman spend time with the trees, studying them. (Study: Life)
[ ] [Tree] Strike back against the bandits who have been attacking the People's explorers. (Raid: Southern Bandits)
[ ] [Tree] Try and work the new tree into the People's arboriculture. (-1 Turn to fully change Arboriculture paradigm)
[ ] [Tree] Press on further, see if there's more that can be found. (Explore: South of the Cave of Stars)
[ ] [Tree] Work on building good trails into the area for easier access. (New Trails)

The only downside that Jeree knew of was that the trees would be a beauty only the People, could really appreciate; they were so rare that he doubted any outsiders had ever laid eyes on them before. To trade this beautiful purple wood would likely fetch high returns. Setting aside its beauty, it was dense, heavier for its size than even oak. Water seemed to run right off of it and the heartwood itself showed no signs at all of rot, even as the rest of the tree decayed around it.

For someone who worked extensively with water and earth, that resistance to rot would be a godsend. The Pearl Divers were certain to want access to the trees by the ton. Even the Island Makers... perhaps not them; the Island Makers had severed all contact a few years previously.

Apparently, the group had been unappreciative of the efforts of the Ember-Eyes in preaching to their people. When they eventually realized that Luule and the other Pareem had no intention of censuring or stopping them, the Island Makers turned the Ember-Eyes away themselves. It had involved violence, but blessedly few deaths. At first. Any of Ember-Eye that tried to brave their cordon, either sneaking around or by pretending to be a simply trader, was quickly and efficiently trussed up and shipped back to the north. It was only those who had been captured multiple times that saw any true punishment.

Within two years, everyone was barred from the People. Pareem to shaman, Debtor to trader.

The Soft Eyes practically leaped into the gap that created. They were used to receiving trade goods from the People and then passing a limited measure on, either to the Island Makers upriver or to the Stouthearts in the mountains. It was never much, but with the Island Makers refusing entry for all of the People's traders, the Soft Eyes had exploded to fill that gap. Not only did they make great profit as a now enforced middle man, but some of the Island Makers were desperate enough for the People's goods that they simply gave the Soft Eyes food!

Angry whispers already permeated, blaming the Soft Eyes for their opportunism, stealing trade that should have been the People. Others blamed the Ember-Eyes and their ambition, some preferred to blame the Island Makers and their fear, jealousy, and weakness.

In the end, who was actually to blame mattered little to the People. They just needed to know what to do. Then they would know who was at fault.

What should the People do about the breakdown in relations with the Island Makers?

[ ] [Trade] Try and offer an apology to the Island Makers. (Gift Mission, - - Legitimacy, - Stability, - 0.5 RA)
[ ] [Trade] Lean on the Soft Eyes, try to get them to cease being a middleman. (+ Stability)
[ ] [Trade] Ignore the situation, allow the shaman to continue their attempts. (- Legitimacy)
[ ] [Trade] Push harder. Send more shaman. (++ Stability, + Legitimacy, +1 RA)

AN: Eight hours Moratorium for this one.
 
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21.2 Vote
Wasn't that largely because of the Columbian Exchange? Can't remember where I read this or how accurate this is, but there were over a 100 million people in North America before smallpox and other European diseases swept through and killed more than 90% of the population.

The issue is more that the Americas (42.55 million square kilometers) are simply larger than Europe (10.18 million square kilometers). They had roughly twice as much population, but over four times as much area. On average, the Americas were simply less densely populated. This makes some sense; Europe is largely habitable plains outside of a few mountain ranges and it tends to have a milder climate.

Even if you dismissed a lot of territory in the Americas that would be considered marginal, it could support a much greater population than it ever reached historically, pre-Europeans. A lot of this isn't helped by Native Americans only mastering copper by the time that white settlers started arriving.

For example, Montreal (where the Fingers is located IRL) is at the 45th parallel. It's at roughly the same degree north as Venice and other northern Italian cities. Montreal is roughly 10-15 degrees Celsius colder during the winter and five degrees hotter on average during the summer. It also tends to get roughly 1.5-3.5 feet of snow per month for six months of the year! Venice only gets rain.

Edmonton, Alberta (the northernmost major city in Canada) is located at the 52nd parallel, a bit north of London, England. Whereas the latter has a nice climate of between 5 and 30 degrees Celsius throughout the year, Edmonton swings wildly between -40o​C during the winter and 40o​C during the summers.

A lot of the land around the People would be considered marginal by many estimates. There's a heck of a lot more of it so it does balance out. The thing is that since the Americas are so much bigger, there was never really the same push to inhabit a lot of the really marginal land.

Kind of a miracle really, for Siamese twins to survive in the stone age.

Conjoined twins have about a 1/6 chance of surviving to be 1 day old so it isn't exactly impossible. The People are simply large enough that tens of thousands-to-one birth defects are starting to become noticeable. Not common by any means, but they happen.


Yep.

I'm sure we could find a use for them. Theres a number of medicinal uses for certain forms of snake poison IIRC.

The particular snake is the Mississauga Rattlesnake. It has cytotoxic venom; it literally works to dissolve flesh so it's hard to actually use medically. It's also not that great as a weapon, it's weak enough that only small children are likely to die from it. The People also just barely overlap with its established range. It could be found in Hill Guard, but not Crystal Lake a few days travel to the east.

You know, Jeree, theres a reason people don't go spook hunting and military camps alike. Trigger happy bunch.
Also huh, hit his armor?

It hit his Skin. Note that your arrows tend to be hit-and-miss for their quality. Obsidian tips are sharp as hell, but they shatter at the slightest provocation.

Our I think, ideal position that we discussed before. Slightly risky due to the nasty hits but @Redium how close are we to redlining?

3 ticks of Stability before Bad Things.


Vote Opened!


How does Jeree react to the expulsion of the Fangs from their Temple?

[ ] [Kick] Moved the Horned Riders into the suitable temple at Hill Guard, forget the Fangs. (+ Stability)
[ ] [Kick] Move the Horned Riders into Hill Guard, push the Fangs even further to the periphery. (- Stability, -0.25 RA)
[ ] [Kick] Move the Horned Riders into Hill Guard and invite back the Fangs. (- - Stability, - Legitimacy)
[ ] [Kick] Give the Fangs back Hill Guard, find something else for the Horned Riders. (- Stability, - Legitimacy, +0.25 RA)
[ ] [Kick] Find another temple for the Fangs while the Horned Riders take Hill Guard. (- Stability, +0.25 RA)

A new Luxury resource (Exotic Hardwood) has been discovered by the People. How should they secure it?

[ ] [Tree] Work on expanding the grove. (Encourage Arborists)
[ ] [Tree] Have the shaman spend time with the trees, studying them. (Study: Life)
[ ] [Tree] Strike back against the bandits who have been attacking the People's explorers. (Raid: Southern Bandits)
[ ] [Tree] Try and work the new tree into the People's arboriculture. (-1 Turn to fully change Arboriculture paradigm)
[ ] [Tree] Press on further, see if there's more that can be found. (Explore: South of the Cave of Stars)
[ ] [Tree] Work on building good trails into the area for easier access. (New Trails)

What should the People do about the breakdown in relations with the Island Makers?

[ ] [Trade] Try and offer an apology to the Island Makers. (Gift Mission, - - Legitimacy, - Stability, - 0.5 RA)
[ ] [Trade] Lean on the Soft Eyes, try to get them to cease being a middleman. (+ Stability)
[ ] [Trade] Ignore the situation, allow the shaman to continue their attempts. (- Legitimacy)
[ ] [Trade] Push harder. Send more shaman. (++ Stability, + Legitimacy, +1 RA)
 
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