From Stone to the Stars

[Redium]

[X] [Debt] Several of the Debtors captured were makers of the tribe's eponymous bitter water. Make them produce some for the People. (???) -> Brewing
[X][Actions] Plan Pretty Much Obligatory
-[X][Action] Raise Temple (Crystal Lake)
-[X][Action] The Law [Retributive Justice] [Admin]
-[X][Martial] Train Warriors (Warriors)
-[X][Tribute] Megaprojects - Current Megaproject (The Law x3 [Due to Exceptionally High Dice Rolls])
[X] [Aeva] Aeva was the daughter of Kaspar and born to rule.

As Priit slowly aged into his elder years, he did something that he had never had foreseen himself doing: he set down his weapons. It wasn't that the spear had become heavy in his hand, there were days where it seemed the entire thing had been carved from stone instead of just the tip. No, the fact was that there simply weren't any more wars to fight. At least, there would be no more wars that could be fought with mere sticks and stones.

Instead, in the last years of his life, Priit would devote himself to a war far more subtle and yet far more insidious: that of human nature.

He had been visiting some of the People's outlying farms, speaking to the people there so that he could hear their opinions and learn about their lives. It wasn't something that a Big Man could do often, much less a warleader like himself. Normally, when he needed information, he turned to one of his subordinates who asked one of their subordinates in turn. It was like there was a layer of fog between his eyes and those of the people actually doing things. He hated that as a young man, but he'd needed to grow adept at it as more and more warriors fell under his command.

It was a tricky style of leadership that allowed someone to command a host greater than what should have been possible, but there were also obvious downsides: it placed a film across the eyes. When Priit had spoken to the outlying farmers, he'd heard from them about the Debtors that had been quietly moved out to assist them years ago. They were the survivors of the Debtors who had worked to construct the Hill in Crystal Lake; the fortification had been built on corpses buried under soft earth and mud. Blood and bone had been turned into mortar by the widespread negligence of the People.

At the time, Aeva was dying and could not oversee the project. Priit himself was moons away, fighting in the south. The ones overseeing the project simply lacked the skill to really manage it. They did not appreciate the fact that the Debtors taken from the Cracktooth tribe had no experience working with earth on a large scale. They did not know that the Debtors were ignorant of basic risks like mudslides and hill collapse. It was as if... Priit struggled for a moment to think of an example. It was like a parent forgetting to tell a young and foolish child that stoneware used to cook could remain dangerously hot long after it was pulled from the fire. Normally, no one would make that mistake; only the most uninformed would ever do so. It was such a basic truth of life that it was impossible to expect someone not to know it.

It was an understandable mistake, if profoundly unfortunate; the man trusted to manage was simply not up to the task since he never knew how to be.

When Priit had first heard the truth, however, his reaction had been more... unfortunate. For a time, the red and bloody rage of his youth had returned. His vision had been bolted out by the dying colours of a bleeding sun and his breath had come like bellows in his ears. His heart had drummed; thump, thump, thump, while he acted on instinct and struck the ground in rage. It was only a few moments, but he had felt profoundly weak afterwards, drained by the sheer insanity of the feeling with ebbing, aching pain radiating from his left arm, across his chest and up to his jaw.

He was thankfully far removed from Crystal Lake at the time since it had taken him days to fully calm down from the incident; days before he realized that skinning the manager and nailing his hide to the top of a post was not a solution to the problem.

Reforms were needed: the People could no longer operate as they once had. Their number had simply grown so great that it was impossible for one person to raise themselves to the top of the People with strength and skill and then direct the thousands that made up the population. It was simply too difficult for most to learn how to be a leader. Between the mysteries of the Holy Orders, the divergence between disparate settlements and the magnitude of construction that went on each year, there was simply too much to know for the average Big Man. Securing a position of leadership in with thirty or forty years to their name, left little time before a new, young up-and-comer would come to displace the Big Man. Only the greatest of Big Men could avoid the wasting irrelevance of age; most Big Men were discarded within a decade or two at most.

The People needed to start younger, almost from childhood, like the Holy Orders did with their best and their brightest. Leadership of thousands was a complex task. Ensuring that each person had enough food and supplies, that none of the wrong feathers were ruffled unnecessarily, that the spirits were properly honoured and half a hundred other tasks required extensive experience. With that in mind, Priit simply started to invite some of his young children and grandchildren to accompany him during his duties. They did little, for the most part, but having them sit in to watch supplies being redistributed or plans made to finalize the new temple at Crystal Lake with blocks of quartz, or a mediation to resolve violence between one of the Fangs and an Ember-Eye taught them many valuable lessons.

Priit was initially surprised at how positive the reception was at his decision. Many spoke to him of his vision in seeking to train the next generation of leaders. The fact that the children he selected were close kinsmen was barely remarked upon; wasn't in natural for a father and grandfather to show the next generation the best of their skills? Was this not akin to the apprenticeship system that Aeva had shown Kaspar-In-Flesh intended? The fact that he had picked children sharing descent from Kaspar-In-Flesh only caused the move's legitimacy to soar. Kaspar's descendants had produced great things. Priit and Aeva were foremost, but even Kaspar's lesser descendants had become influential warriors, shaman, and leaders.

Skill was carried best in families; it was obvious to see. It was, perhaps, not direct from father-to-son, or mother-to-daughter, but there was a recurring tie; Kaspar was Aeva's father and Priit's own great-great-grandfather. Based on what Priit could see, one of his Winterborn granddaughters born the same spark as People's past three leaders.

Trait Gained: Bloodline Inheritance!

Spoiler: Bloodline Inheritance

There is something within each person that carries skill and knowledge, this fact is self-evident to the People and it is best to cultivate these unique talents from birth. The best potter is the one who learns at the knee of their father and mother; playing at their side with clay castoffs and helping them fulfill their duties. There are exceptions of course, some individuals do not carry the skill of their fore-bearers. These embarrassments are ruthlessly replaced for the shame they bring to their families. Bloodlines that fail to replace their own are weeded out in turn, just as the master hunter carefully culls the weak in a herd to protect it.
Effects: Increase the Specialization cap by 100%, raise the Hierarchy cap by 50%

With the next generation of the People's leaders slowly being trained, Priit had to ask himself: how should he teach them to lead? There were some obvious answers to that: they should be smart, skilled speakers, good warriors, organizers of men and material, along with a dozen other roles. What they should lead in was obvious, but how should they lead the People?

To Priit, it was clear that the old ways no longer worked. The People could no longer allow themselves to be ruled by Big Men constantly competing and fighting, sometimes literally, for prestige. Hill Guard was a mess, a slow roiling boil of back alley and dark forest murders between those that aspired to lead; it was rare for a moon to go by now without broken bodies being swept out into Rahu Bay. Hunters were no longer willing to travel the deep woods any more. No potter felt comfortable collecting clay from the riverbank and traders were slowly starting to shun the settlement. It was rare for those without aspirations to die, but if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, it was just as easy to slit two throats as one.

The warriors had been powerless to stop the carnage; in some cases they had even been directly implicated! Life was slowly grinding to a halt as the People of Hill Guard found themselves suffocated by fear and uncertainty. There had always been some level of violent problem solving, but as the People grew more and more populous, it became ever easier. No longer would an ambitious Big Man have to overcome the reluctance inherent in plotting murder one of their cousins or a dear family friend. Now they killed people completely unknown to them. It was easy to gather a small group of four or five, arm them with bow and spear, before going on a hunt of a different sort.

With leaders now being limited and trained from childhood, it was the perfect time to nip those problems in the bud. If they weren't... Priit dreaded to think of it. A leader trained from birth could manage things far more effectively than one who picked it up late in life. How much worse could their infighting be?

If things were allowed to stay the same, the future would be an unending time of blood, where kith and kin struck against each other.

[ ] [Gov] The People should deffer now to a single leader.
[ ] [Gov] The People should formalize their Council of Three forevermore.
[ ] [Gov] The People should have a council with a representative of each settlement.
[ ] [Gov] The People should govern themselves foremost locally, coming together for larger issues.
[ ] [Gov] The People's rulers should build ties within themselves so that they no longer fight for power.

With the matter of leadership solved, Priit finally turned himself to his final ambition: the Law. The word itself was strange; Law was a little known way of saying 'something fixed in place'. It was often used to describe the People's building, their Wonders, and their fiercest warriors. Priit wanted to harness that strength, that resilience, so that the rules he laid down today would endure for all time. To ensure that was possible, Priit knew that the Law would need to be known by everyone, regardless of station. Each child was to be instructed on the Law's particulars during the long and idle moons of winter.

Still, he knew stories could change over time. What of Kaspar-In-Flesh? He had been Aeva's father and by the time of her death, could anyone be said to truly know him? He was the first to ascend to the spirits, that was well known, but what of the other stories? Was he really eight feet tall with the strength of ten men? Could he have hacked in half three warriors with a single swing of his Blacksword? Did he really have eyes of purest flame?

It was impossible to know.

It would not, however, be impossible to know the Law. Priit had ordered it carved on the wall of each and every Temple of the People. A new pigment had recently been discovered by the Ember-Eyes: a brilliant red colour. Combined with amethyst, ocher, citrine, obsidian, and plaster, there were more than enough colours to created beautiful murals. Ones that would hopefully stand for all time.

The Law would be depicted:

[ ] [Record] In full, as well as the People could commit it to stone.
[ ] [Record] In metaphour, understood best through study and understanding.
[ ] [Record] As a supplement, a way to expand on the stories that the People would tell.
[ ] [Record] In pictures, demonstrating the proper ways to live.

Priit knew that the Fingers lacked a Temple and would not take the slight lightly that they were unable to have their own depiction of the Law, but he could not wait. Age pressed down upon him. He vowed that they would have one within a generation.

As for the Law itself, that was determined after countless moons, years, of discussion. It was the purification of every story and tradition passed down from the elders to their grandchildren. There had always been parables, half-truths, and other myths that the People believed, but they varied; sometimes even between longhouses in the same settlement! By taking all of the tales, the People could focus on the ones that served them properly. Everyone, from the greatest leader to the lowest farmer, held treasured memories of learning at the knees of the grandparents during the long, dark moons of winter. These tales spoke to each one of the People, forming the basis of their decision-making. None of these tales were strictly the Law, but they built up to that point. By building the Law a top a foundation of these childhood stories, it would influence each one of the People, from now until the end of time.

At their core, the Laws were a command, perhaps the most ambitious one Priit had ever given. They were a collection of truths on how the People should live. A single collection which was universal and would be maintained. It would be impossible, Priit knew, to find something to apply to every situation. All he could do was encode a few truths and hurl them into the future, hoping that future generations would pick up the burden in turn for future generations.

In the end, Priit decided that the core message he would send was:

[ ] [Core] On Behalf of Future Generations.
[ ] [Core] Revere the Spirits
[ ] [Core] Social Unity
[ ] [Core] Balance of People
[ ] [Core] Power in all Things
[ ] [Core] Benefit the Land

Megaproject Completed: The Law (Neolithic)!

Spoiler: The Law (Neolithic)

The People's code of laws are beyond ancient, more of a primordial mien, from a time that's literally lost to time. Primarily, the Law is a collection of codified stories, a canon that shows the People how to build a good life. While still open for further development, the Law goes a long way to creating a uniformity of culture and expectation of internal unity.
Effects: Increase Centralization cap by +1, grant access to Push Unity action, accelerate development of Culture resource, ???

Legacy Gained: Primordial Law

Spoiler: Primordial Law

The People's Law is of an ancient sort, far beyond recorded history. Nonetheless, the mores and values instilled by the stories, myths, and fables, are an enduring part of the People's legacy. In time, they will shift, but the underlying message; that the People's ancestors had entrusted their children with a great covenant of faith to truly make their own and develop with their own wisdom, was greatly reassuring.
Effects: Gain a one time Stability increase when completing a Social Reform megaproject.

When everything was finally done, Priit felt free for the first time in his life. As the years moved on, it seemed like a smile was permanently fixed to his face. Working with children, resolving disputes, none of the difficulties of leadership could possibly bother him. Here he was, an elder, and these few years were the first that he could recall without war. No comrades choking on their own blood, none impaled and left to die over the course of days. No more kith and kin whom he saw leave with a wave confident wave, never to return.

None of the tales coming up from the Island Makers bothered him. The tales of a tribe in the far off west having tamed the unconquered sun and brought the celestial orb to earth were impressive, but far removed. Stories of scarred men slowly showing themselves along the south shore of the Island Makers lake, were also distant. The Pearl Divers returning, having completed the final Saltern that they could within their lands and bringing with them more of the precious substance than the People could ever use, was a happy moment. The fact that the Pearl Divers further realized the People's wisdom in seeking challenge left him nothing but pleased.

Spiritual Advisers Triggers: Whole Hearted -> Trial By Fire

It was only when a young man from Arrow Lake approached him in audiance at the Fingers that Priit's smiled died for the first time in years.

"We know," the young man had said in his own tongue. "Of how you supply the Worker Tribes. This ends. Today. You conspire and enable their crimes against the Bluestone People. In gracious recompense for your crimes of theft, murder, and treachery, the Ancients of the Lake have allowed you a single opportunity to redeem yourselves. The losses you've inflicted on us will be compensated for. For every man, woman, or child harmed, you shall provide one individual to the Ancients so that their lost labours can be made up. You have one moon to begin providing Debtors." The People's word tested almost poisonous on the young man's tongue.

As the boy turned and left, something came over Priit and he felt tears fall from his eyes for the first time in years.

How do you respond to Arrow Lake's ultimatum?

[ ] [Ask] Concede on every point.
[ ] [Ask] Partially concede. Stop feeding the Mountain Clans and raid them for workers to pay off Arrow Lake.
[ ] [Ask] Refuse all of their demands.
[ ] [Ask] Bring it, boy.

AN: Sorry this took so long. You managed to gain an extra action on The Law due to spectacular rolls (100, 98, 89) so I had to rush through the system changes faster than I thought I would need to. They will be up in 20.0, whether that's next update or in two updates.

 

[Redium]

[X] [Gov] The People's rulers should build ties within themselves so that they no longer fight for power. -> Government Upgrade: Ancient Aristocracy
[X] [Record] In metaphour, understood best through study and understanding.
[X] [Core] On Behalf of Future Generations. -> Value Level Up: Blood of my Brothers -> Familialism
[X] [Ask] Bring it, boy.

Aart was a decorated Bluestone Warrior of the Lake, grandson of the Most Ancient and grandnephew to two more. Four captures in war had been made to his credit and last he heard, had risen to the highest consideration for the honour of a third wife. Even the lowly Indebted he had taken from the Worker Clans had all been refined into exceptional specimens. They worked diligently, planting and harvesting fields of corn during the spring and summer months and dug through the Bluestone foothills during the summer. Each of them had earned the Rights of Half-Manhood and, in the distant future, one of them may earn the Full Rights of Man. He hoped their promotion to be soon; it was unheard of for the Captor to remain of equal rank with his Indebted, their promotion would be his.

When the war started against the Two-Soul Tribe, his ambition had been high. The Two-Souls lived north of the Lake, along a gently flowing river where it intersected with half a dozen other tributaries. The location was a good one, easily accessible to numerous different tribes from the frozen north to the southern seawater seas and from the rising to setting sun. They had grown rich and fat off the goods they could trade there; taking salt from the northeast, mica and pottery from the south, and the People's own bluestone.

Above it all, they sat there, waiting; decked out with fine, black sharpstone weapons. For their finery, however, it seemed that the Two-Souls were not as great warriors.

Eventually, the Meat Eaters of the north had gotten fed up with the Two-Souls taking their ivory in exchange for baubles. Aart wasn't sure what the incited the two to war beyond a perfidious murder, but it prompted a vicious cycle of destruction. Aart had only heard stories about that time, but it sounded as if the Meat Eaters had gone mad. Their insanity had granted them strength, however, and they ended up prevailing over the The Two-Souls. The Meat Eaters took slaves from their defeated enemies; hunters, fishermen, gatherers, and numerous other professions.

In the following years, they wisely kept the Two-Souls numbers culled. Every time the People's traders visited the Two-Souls at Riversmeet, they showed fewer and fewer warriors. Their young men were lost or taken away while their weak and their women were allowed to live on. The Most Ancient said that it reminded him of how the People kept the Worker Clans culled of threats. There were always individuals willing to pick up spears and stone with black murder in their minds, but they were few. Warriors needed someone to guide them and encourage them to war. A shining exemplar.

It was with that full confidence that the Most Ancient had ordered his warriors to exert their power over the Two-Souls. The weaker half of the Elder Council demanded an reason for the attack, but a reason was rapidly found. The Two-Souls had become so weak that they were forced to pay off the Worker Clans in food and other plunder. Sheltering and offering succor to the enemies of the People were a just cause for war that even the most cowardly of Elders could deny.

All the spirits under the dome of the sky had shown their favour to the People as they always did. Aart and his brothers of war managed to reap a fantastic toll on the enemy! If anything, the war had gone even further in their father than the one against the Worker Clans. Everything could have gone right, did! The Two-Souls didn't have enough warriors to really contest their raiders; farms and outposts burned, their men slaughtered while women and children were efficiently carried off. The river that led back to the Lake made it nearly trivial to move loot and Indebted back home.

Why had they not done this before, Aart wondered? Fighting the Two-Souls was even easier than fighting the Worker Clans! With them, war parties had to march up and down the narrow passes they called home. At times, the trails narrowed enough that it was necessary to scramble over broken stones. What should have been a brief, easy journey in any other terrain took up half a day!

The only advantage of fighting in the mountains was that it trapped the Worker Clans as much as it hindered the People. Once the clans were defeated, they couldn't flee and everything was ripe for the taking. The rhythm was different with the Two-Souls; there was more maneuvering, running back and forth, posturing, compared to the Worker Clans. Violence was risky. Even a simple injury could mean death if wound-rot set in. With them, violence was explosive; hours trekking through the forest ended in an ambush and only an instant of combat. If an ambush wasn't possible, or one side failed to bring overwhelming force, retreat was inevitable. If after some posturing from the young and hot headed.

Regardless of the strange style of war, the first few years of the war brought a bounty to the People that Aart had never possible imagined. Salt and sugar, once rare commodities were present at every meal. Blackened sharpstone, once so rare that only a handful of the People's best could use it, suddenly became so common that it was used as jewelry. That also ignored the shear breadth of baubles that the haughty Two-Souls constantly adorned themselves with.

Aart exalted in glory. Until, suddenly he couldn't.

The Antlered One arrived.

Aart never saw his face, but the Antlered was old and weathered; most of his hair had gone white and his skin was stretched taught across spotted flesh. Despite his age, the Antlered One he bore a club at his side, one that was carved in detail and studded with numerous sharpstone shards. Despite his age, he was power incarnate.

Whenever one of Aart's kinsmen went up against the Antlered One, they died. Their corpses would sometimes be found, days later and savaged by beasts. Hounds constantly stalked through the woods and Aart found it almost impossible to avoid them. They seemed to have a prenatural sense, something that would let them track the People's warriors wherever they traveled. It seemed that only time and torrents of rain would prevent them from being tracked.

That first year after the Antlered One arrived was the worst of Aart's life. When the snows had finally fallen that year, it was like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It meant rest and relaxation. A chance for him to see and enjoy his wives for the first time in several moons.

It meant he had scarce half a moon before the demons arrived.

The creatures looked like men, but they were clearly anything but. More likely they were something else that the Two-Souls had bargained with. A great spirit in the Antlered One, and countless hungry ghosts for the demons. Aart had killed one, by some miracle. A frantic fight in the darkening twilight; a spear hurled in panic, and the creature had dropped. After Aart's allies fended off the other demons, he rolled his kill over to reclaim the remains of his spear and Aart was horrified by what he saw. The creature looked human, but it had no nose; its left hand had three fingers, its right four. Around the demon's neck was a set of grisly trophies; ears, cut from what Aart were sure were his kinsmen. Neither did it bleed when Aart pulled his spear from its body. There was blood on the spear point, but it was congealed. Thick and sticky; it was almost clotted.

When spring rolled around again, the Antlered One and his host of beasts returned. It was an unrelenting style of assault, one that the People were unused to. Hunger started to slowly settle in as the Indebted were unable to return to their farms for fear of being taken. This was compounded with the fact that each of the People's warriors were also hunters; a warrior needed to show their ability to kill and their resourcefulness to be a warrior at all. They didn't hunt enough to fully cover their own needs, but the supplement was a necessary part of their diets.

If Aart had to explain what was going on, it was that his People were slowly being suffocated. They could still farm relatively unmolested in the south, far beyond the Lake, but that meant transporting meat, grain, and other foodstuffs to the north. Those transports were not invulnerable; well protected, perhaps, but not invulnerable. A single canoe being sunk or hijacked meant that a hundred people would go hungry for several days. A caravan lost meant that the entire northern settlement wouldn't be able to eat.

Meat also was becoming a scarce commodity. The warriors could no longer go out to hunt in the north safely and going to war with the Two-Souls severed their supply of salt and sugar. Several of those who had become Indebted knew the secret of making both and neither was something that could be manufactured where the People were. Salt needed a special type of water and sugar needed a special type of tree. Neither were available, the Indebted had said, regardless of how much pressure was applied. Smoking and drying were still options for preservation, but with the Two-Souls turning the forests around the People's home into charnel houses, it was another unreliable one. Going out for an armful of firewood meant taking your life into your own hands.

It frustrated Aart, seeing his friends and family suffer by inches. Seeing his wives go hungry while his children slowly died. There was nothing that he could do except go out and ward off the enemy, killing them on rare occasions. Hoping against hope that the Two-Souls would finally run out of warriors before they finished suffocating the People.

Distracted, Aart didn't see the yellow eyes shining in the underbrush. He heard the brief whistle, but something heavy hit him, stunning him and driving him to the ground. There was a flash of white and then pain everywhere.

Something broke.

(...)

Priit huffed, ordering his Fangs to retreat without words. Their obedience was absolute and they spat out the bloody flesh that had been in their mouths. All around him, the others in his war party were finishing off their own kills or chasing the enemy fleeing into the woods. Howls started to pick up from all around them, announcing the People's presence properly.

"String up the corpses," he said, "So that their kin know to find them." It was both a message and a mercy. The tribe of Arrow Lake would know their kin were dead, but they would have bodies to bury properly. Priit didn't know what it was; what he intended it to be. "Likely both," he sighed bitterly.

What could he do? As it sat, the People were strangling Arrow Lake, burning their fields and forcing the hunters and fishers to remain close to home. It was a slow war, but what else could be done? Storming the walls around their settlement would be nearly impossible. The People would sooner paint the walls red with their own blood than breach good, fired clay.

The warriors of Arrow Lake had met surprising success in the first few years of the war. They had actually been out maneuvering the People... somehow. It hadn't lasted once Priit finally took the field, but the victory he brought tasted like ashes. No one from Arrow Lake could be considered Priit's equal, even in his old age; they had gotten by on pure luck.

It was dangerous for someone his age to take the field, Priit knew. Men far, far younger than him had called it quits to raise and train their grandchildren. He should've been the one to raise and train his grandchildren. Not like he was now, in tree-covered hollows, hiding from enemy patrols, but at home in front of the hearth. He had done that at first, entrusting the war to younger men, providing them only with advice as it was necessary. Allowing them to learn and to fail and to die in some cases. Priit wasn't going to live forever; Kaspar-In-Flesh had not, Aeva had not.

It wasn't to be, though.

The People had needed him; too many were dying at the hands of Arrow Lake due to their miraculous luck. Widows and orphaned children had come to him, tears in their eyes. They had sat on their knees and begged Priit for his intervention, to save their sons and husbands.

And so he had obliged.

Donning the great antlered war-mask and picking up his personal blacksword for the first time in what must have been ten long and peaceful years. His dogs had been happy for the exercise, to run alongside him and kiss the wind between tree and root. Even as it made Priit's inside's curdle.

Was this what Aeva had felt? Was this the reason she cling to power, even to the point where she was dying?

It made sense. A twisted horrible sense. The spirits sent their tests, always pushing to see where the People would break. It was necessary, but...

In the end, as Priit lived out his last days covered in blood, slaughtering men and women a quarter of his age. He died a death that could not be fought and felt only a single emotion.

[ ] [End] Regret
[ ] [End] Bitterness
[ ] [End] Apathy
[ ] [End] Anger
[ ] [End] Resignation

What should the People try to defeat Arrow Lake in war?

[ ] [War] Try and assault the walls of their settlement directly.
[ ] [War] Continue to strangle Arrow Lake's food supply.
[ ] [War] Try and divide Arrow Lake's two settlements so they can be conquered piecemeal.
[ ] [War] Invite the Mountain Clans to settle and dig into Arrow Lake's territory.

AN: Voting is in moratorium until tomorrow morning. Alongside the changes to the resource system, I'm also going to implement a few changes to Research and Values. Research is just going to explicitly quantify how close you are to certain major developments. For Values, I'm just going to abstract the names since coming up with unique names is very hard.

The Law vote nearly being a tie will come up.

 

[Redium]

[X] [End] Regret
[X] [War] Continue to strangle Arrow Lake's food supply.

"...Based on messengers near the front, the enemy is nearly defeated!" Anything further the young war-leader was going to add was drowned out by the applause from the council. It brought a faint smile to Luule's lips as she watched her brother try to control the crowd. No matter how hard he slammed the butt of his staff against the ground, it was insufficient to cut through the giddy jubilation that buoyed all of them, the Pareem, up.

They were a young group, all told, but if the result on the front of war were anything to go by, they were more than equal to any task set before them. Word from the front was that the enemy in Arrow Lake were nearly at the point of breaking. All it would take is concentrated push to have them defeated. Their walls were formidable, equal to the People's due to a foolish, but ancient gift, but they would not matter if none of their defenders had the strength to stand. Every member of their militia was hollow cheeked and showed thin, weakened limbs. They had mostly stopped contesting the People in their own valley entirely; all that was necessary was to do a final push and cut off their trickle of supplies from the south.

Finally managing to quiet the Council of Pareem, Luule's brother fixed them all with a gaze. "This war has taken much from us," he started. "Countless cousins, brothers and sisters, friends. The Old Warrior, Priit, himself eventually fell on the field of battle. Not to blade or stone, but his own heart failing him. He fought bravely for the People, from the moment of his birth and until his very last breath."

By the end, they had also started to call him the Weeping Warrior, Luule recalled. He cried as he fought, wiping blood and tears in equal measure from his cheeks. It made her uncomfortable to hear her brother exalt Old Priit's name and call for war. It was wrong. And, based on the looks she was receiving from several of the other Pareem, they felt the same way.

Her brother was an excellent warrior, but he was not Priit's Heir. That honour had been given to Luule herself. She was never sure why; she was the younger sibling, had none of the Old Man's talent at war, nor was her father Priit's most prestigious child. Still, among all of his children, grandchildren, kith and kin; she had been singled out. He had trained with her brother, showing him the proper way to swing a blacksword; to use its weight to generate more momentum and to understand when it was necessary to struck crushing blows with the flat of the weapon. One of their cousins was directed towards the Star Shaman, trained in their arts until she could survive the Rite of Dark Night and become recognized among their number. Another cousin, one of Priit's grandnephews, had been entrusted with the Weeping Warrior's entire kennel of dogs. Proud, vicious, and intelligent creatures, they had been the envy of all of the People and brought the man they were given to great acclaim among all of the hunters, who hopped to add one of their number to their own packs.

It wasn't any of them that Priit choose to speak to, late at night by the fireside. He had shared stories with her, of his youth and his friends. They talked about things that were reduced to all but memory; Luule suspected that she was perhaps the only one who knew the stories he told her. The stories he had entrusted her with. It wasn't... she didn't like what she had learned there and much preferred the other stories told by the elders and the shaman. Still, the Old Man had considered it important and so she learned.

It was never the lessons of another profession, that Luule encountered, but of how to lead, how to rule, and how to render decisions that would affect thousands of people. Hers was the hardest test of them all, Priit had said. To rule not only for the living, but also for the dead and those yet unborn.

Thinking about it, leading was like the Parable of the Threefold Stag, bearer of the sun. Each day, the stag was born, lived, and eventually died. They were eternal, but their life was not unending. Each night, the Threefold Stag would forget the burden they had taken on just the day previously as a new life that-was-them-but-not was born. Each and ever stag was necessary, but none of them would see the impact that they had. The sun always rose, even when the Threefold Stag was born into a weak or sickly body, even during the winter months. It was always there to provide life, light, warmth, and nourishment to every plant and beast, stone and stream. If it ever finally stopped, however; Luule was certain it would mean a slow, lingering death by winter for everything that lived under the dome of the sky.

No incarnation of the Threefold Stag was ever able to see the impact they had on the world. And yet, without their tireless work, there would be no world.

"The People will grow great when every elder plants trees whose shade they shall never rest in, Luule." Priit had said once, shortly before he died and was interred in the Cave of Stars. Think of the future and plan for your children, he had meant.

A slightly alien thought, to Luule and her council of young, confident, and brash Pareem, but it was something she took to heart. While the others won glory on the battlefield, made connections, or learned the mysteries of the spirits, she stayed up late and took stock. She counted everything: pots of grains, stores of pemmican, logs of firewood, sugar, bricks, weapons and tools. It was laborious and thankless, having her Slate count pots, buckets and stacks, and Luule wasn't certain what she would find, but what she had uncovered had left her deeply troubled.

The People had a critical shortfall: there simply wasn't enough wood or bricks to meet the People's needs. Longhouses that had once held six families now tended to hold eight. It wasn't critical, yet, but people were starting to become cramped. At the edges of the People's lands, hunters and farmers were slowly starting to stop using brick and instead turn to lesser materials, usually wood. This made sense in the short-term since it consumed far fewer resources to build a wooden longhouse, but over time brick was obviously superior. The amount of time saved in maintenance and in reducing the amount of wood necessary to keep warm during the winter were significant. A brick longhouse also simply lasted longer; the home that Luule had grown up in had been built by the grandfather of Old Man Priit's grandfather!

This shortfall also exacerbated a smaller, but no less dangerous situation; many of the Pareem living in the Fingers reported that their clients were becoming... restless. For time beyond memory, the Fingers had been the least favoured of the People's three settlements, despite being their bulwark against the Northlands and Arrow Lake. They were the second largest concentration of People, but they lacked a Hill to defend them. Why was it that clay and wood from the Fingers were sent to Crystal Lake or even Hill Guard to help them build up while their need was clear?

The fact that the Fingers also lacked a temple was not forgotten. It was another slight, another tiny insult that wounded the pride of the fierce and war-like People of the Fingers. It was not a new problem, Priit himself had remarked on the issue; much of his support base had been found among those individuals who were dissatisfied with the growing neglect heaped upon their settlement. He had started the process of reform within the People, but he had simply not had enough time to fully deal with their issues.

Status Gained: Dissatisfied Faction (The Fingers)

Spoiler

An element within the People has grown increasingly dissatisfied with how the People are being run. They demand change and if there desires continue to go unmet, they may eventually take things into their own hands.
Resolve: Build a Hill and Temple in Fingers
Effects: Escalating Legitimacy hit until demands are met, crisis triggered at ??? Stability.

What should have been a simple fix: building a Hill and Temple, was starting to look monumentally difficult. The People needed more resources; clay bricks, wood, and simple labour, desperately. Piling on two major projects on top of that would only exacerbate the issue, potentially critically.

There was also a second, lesser shortage for luxuries; dyes, quality furs, fine jewelry, etc. The warrior clans and the Pareem had found it necessary to cover themselves in fine panoply. On the field of battle, it was necessary to be distinctive in order to rally your followers. Given the expanding size of the People, it had even become necessary for non-warrior leaders to follow suit. It was impossible for every member of the People to recognize the Pareem; there were simply too many to know all of their faces.

The shortage wasn't nearly as critical as that of base materials, merely causing confusion and disorder among the People, but it would need to be addressed at some point. Eventually, Luule huffed.

Neither issue was a visible problem, but Luule could see them and she was in charge. Even if she wasn't an unlimited leader, like the Weeping Warrior had been in his last days, Luule knew exactly how to get things done. Finding the correct leader and empowering them was exactly how she excelled.

"Great Leader." A voice tugged on Luule's consciousness. The speaker was short, she realized, enough that it was quite obvious she was the taller of the two. The speaker was almost child-sized; one of the Northlanders, then. Glinting, golden eyes greeted Luule beneath a mop of short, black hair; revealing that the speaker was only half-Northlander.

"Speak," Luule said, finishing her measuring of the stranger. He was clearly half-Northlander since he had the eyes of one of the People, but he wore a long cloak in the style of the northerners, but made with the traditional softskin leather of the People. He was a walking pastiche of everything within both cultures.

Something clicked in Luule's mind. "You're the son of one of the People's hunters, are you not? One of the ones who went north?"

"My name is Jeree," he said to begin. "I'm from the White North, but also from the People; as you've surmised. I've come down south to observe, and potentially to talk."

"Why speak to me?" Luule asked, proclaiming ignorance. "My brother is likely the one that you need to speak to. He leads the warriors and Speaks-In-Second for the hunters. I'm only the kernel counter." She offered one of disparaging nicknames that one of the other Pareem had given her... shortly before her brother had broken their nose.

The northerner grinned. "Aye, you count out ears of corn and scope bits of pemmican into the cook pot; I've heard that before. How many who've slighted you have gone mysteriously hungry as a bit of food was misplaced? How found that replacement tools or weapons weren't quite available yet?"

Luule said pretended to focus on the stitch work pattern of her skirt. "Why would such a thing be necessary?" she eventually asked.

Jeree laughed. "I might not be fully one of you, but I know how the People work. Half of your young men are convinced that the proper way to greet someone is to grab them by the shoulder and then smash skulls together. This council you've got, it's filled with young men."

"I would hardly call it filled." Luule denied the only part of the statement she could. "What is it that you wished to ask, Jeree? You've clearly come well informed and with an agenda. How may I be of help?" It would be a stretch to say that Luule liked the strange little man that had sat down beside her, but if the Old Man had imparted one lesson, it was to listen to everyone and know how to make friends. Even if it was with those you disliked. It was impossible to know when a friend could offer a helping hand or even save your life.

"Simple," Jeree smiled. "I want your help to kill my sister."

Luule was struck dumb. It was like her thoughts — normally a grand edifice like a temple — sudden cracked and then came cascading down. Kinslaying? How could anyone plot something so accursed? It must have been a bad joke. One that left her uncomfortable to even consider it.

"You'd be surprised," Jeree said. That last part must have been said out loud, Luule realized. "The circumstances come up. As for the why? To save the life of your brother."

"What do you mean?" Luule hissed. She pulled him aside into an alcove, using her advantage in height to nearly pin him in place. A part of her was tempted to signal her brother or flag down the guards. The only thing that stopped her was the sheer lack of concern on Jeree's features.

All of this was part of a plan.

"My sister has listened a little bit too closely to the old stories of the Ivory Chief. She's rejected our mother, disdaining her for betraying the Northern tribe and taking a southern huntsman as husband. I'm not sure where she heard it, but before she assumed the mantle as Most Holy, rebellion was a dying whisper. Now it's an ember threatening to burst into flame."

"You'd sell out your own kin?" Luule asked, mind aching at having to comprehend it. "And what does this have to do with my brother?"

"There's a lot I would sell for peace," Jeree said. His gaze was tightly fixed, conviction firm. It looked strange on the little man; seriousness did not suit his features at all. "And as for your brother? He would be the first to die. My sister, for all of her... insanity, she knows how wars work with the People. The Antlered Lord is your war-leader and when the Weeping Warrior donned the mask, it was the only thing that prevented your destruction. To kill your current war-leader, smash his antlered helm and mount his head on a spike, would be devastating. The People would fall apart and the North's Horned Riders would once more grind you underfoot."

Jeree smirked. "Of course, my sister could fail. Your brother might live and war would come to the People on two fronts. You know what that would mean."

Luule did, perhaps better than even her brother. Organization was her strength and it was easy to predict how the People would respond to war, even if the details were beyond her. Subjugating the Northlanders a second time would be all be impossible. If it even became a possibility that they might lose, they would flee. Perhaps for only a few years, before they eventually returned and struck when the People least expected it. Fighting them would be like trying to kill smoke.

That didn't even begin to touch on how much ground they would lose in the south, against Arrow Lake.

"Why do you need my help?" Luule eventually asked.

"Legitimacy," Jeree shrugged. "I can kill my sister, of that I am absolutely certain. What happens afterwards, though? Anarchy, most likely. For all that my sister is the Most Holy, she is not well liked. But, she is all we have. Her line has provided us spiritual advice for time beyond memory. If I move against her, I will need something, a system, to replace it."

Slowly, Jeree gestured to the long tables the dominated the center of the gathering longhouse. "That can always be made bigger, can it not?"

A ??? Hero of the Northlands is offering to off the current Grand Shaman and formerly subsume the Northlanders into the People, provided they are recognized as Pareem, aristocracy. In exchange, they are offering to teach Technologies that the Northlanders have finished researching. More Tech will be given for a closer union.

[ ] [Kin] Capture and execute the one who offends the laws of the spirits. (Legitimacy rises)
[ ] [Kin] Reject the abominable offer. The People do not slay kin! (Legitimacy rises)
[ ] [Kin] Accept the offer, but only name Jeree Pareem. Keep the Northlanders at arms length. (Northlands become a Vassal)
[ ] [Kin] Embrace them fully, once the firebrand Grand Shaman is dead. (Additional settlement founded for free, Northlands folds into the People.)
[ ] [Kin] Tell Jeree he has his deal, but lie. After his sister is dead, all that he'll get is an arrow to the heart. (If successful: Stability boost, Legitimacy falls. If failure: War and Jeree's anger.)

Pick: 3 Actions, 3 Empowerment, and 1 Admin Action.

Spoiler: Actions

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. (Soft Cap Reached) Direly needed.

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. Current locked due to Materials shortage.

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 (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, Arrow Lake, 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
Star Shaman
Trader
Urbanite

Megaprojects:

Artificial River [Supernal Symphony] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The Dam [Supernal Symphony] [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 [Supernal Symphony] [Flat Arrow Outlook] [Martial] [Admin] (12 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The World in Miniature [Supernal Symphony] [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 [Supernal Symphony] [Art] (8 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

The Sisters Three [Supernal Symphony] [Admin] (6 Actions) - Prerequisites not met.

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

Extended Projects:

Archaic Charcoal Kilns (Crystal Lake, Hill Guard, The Fingers) [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) [Mastery of Nature] [Admin] (1 Action) - 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 (The Fingers) [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) [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] (9 or 12 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.

Automatic Actions: Are being discontinued. Every action you now take will produce permanent changes in the People's ability to marshal resources. At your current level of sophistication, you can't tell exactly how an individual action will effect your stats. Be careful if you plan on taking a lot of actions that spend Staples. You currently have enough of a reserve that you can't go to famine in one turn, but expect to have to take a large number of Staples actions as a matter of course.

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.

 

[Redium]

[X] Plan Resettling Foundations
-[X] [Kin] Embrace them fully, once the firebrand Grand Shaman is dead. (Additional settlement founded for free, Northlands folds into the People.)
-[X] [Action] Create Craftsmen
-[X] [Action] Archaic Charcoal Kilns (Crystal Lake, The Fingers)
--[X] Double Down
-[X] [Action] Expand Fishing Fleets
-[X] [Admin] Raise Temple (The Fingers) 1/2
-[X] [Empowerment] War Chief (Raid: Arrow Lake)
-[X] [Empowerment] Headman of Fingers (Raise Temple: The Fingers 2/2)
-[X] [Empowerment] Frontier Leader (New Trails)

Counting up the marks on her tally clay, Luule kept coming up short. It wasn't much she was short in the grand scheme of things, but it was noticeable and it irritated her to be short at all. The demand for the new fuel had skyrocketed almost at the same pace as its production and the People produced a lot. Charcoal was better in virtually every way compared to wood; the fuel burned hotter, it was significantly lighter for the same volume, and it was far cleaner. Wood, when it burned, belched black smoke and soot that covered every open surface; charcoal did not have that drawback.

It seemed strange to Luule that half burning wood turned it into a fuel that was even better. She was sure, if she asked one of the Ember-Eyes, they could try to explain the intricate spiritual interactions, but it would be beyond her. That type of thinking had never made sense to her.

Instead, Luule liked the sight of people. Not talking to them per se — though she was not afraid of that — but in seeing them go about their lives. Watching young men haul wood, charcoal, and pots of food underneath the stern eye of their supervisors. The chatty and gossip of young mothers as they prepared the evening meal with one eye while the other was fixed on their rambunctious children. Seeing master craftsmen who could, in a single sigh of disappointment, reduce a cocksure apprentice to blubbering excuses. Listening to elders as the spoke around the fire, sharing the People's stories while instruments strained faintly in the background. Even the shaman, as they argued bitterly over how beast to appease the spirits and ensure good fortune, was of interest to Luule.

It still amused her to think how thankful the shaman had been at the widespread adoption of charcoal. The Temple of Fire and Ice that the Frost-Scarred had constructed was the single largest building in the Fingers and made extensive use of flame in order to convey the struggle of living warmth and deathly cold. During the summers, a fire constantly burned in an enormous stone basin set in the central chamber. The basin itself was enormous, carefully cut from a block of pure quartz large enough that it had required two rasbaska to work side by side in order to carry it.

Around that central chamber, several supplementary rooms were constructed. These, thankfully, stayed heated all year long for the benefit of visitors and apprentices, but the fully-fledged Frost-Scarred Shaman shunned those rooms. They instead preferred to live in the cold cellars dug into the earth beneath the temple. It was only during the winter when the great central brazier was extinguished and filled with ice and snow that the Frost-Scarred came out. They lived in the freezing central room, training their acolytes until the world warmed again in the spring when they would return to their cellars.

The central brazier was for sacrifices; food, clothing, trinkets, old tools, anything that signified personal struggle and the battle to overcome it was welcomed. The Frost-Scarred creed made a metaphorical shiver trace of Luule's spine. "We are all in pain, every day of our lives. Pain is weakness leaving the body; a sensation that is in passing. Though finite in life, sensations are to be enjoyed for they remind us. Join in our ecstasy." The wizened old shaman that told it to Luule lacked a nose and much of the flesh on his face was blackened. When he smiled, the few teeth he had remaining were grey and dead.

To a girl who had come to give up a childhood doll made of woven reeds, it was deeply unsettling. Even standing outside the temple, looking in the the Frost-Scarred inside, Luule could remember her feelings from that day.

Putting the thought out of her mind, Luule singled to one of her aides. She was no longer in the right set of mind to work today. She had fallen out of the zone, and to go back to counting stores would just leave her frustrated; disappearing supplies tended to have that effect. It was far better to work when thought and deed aligned, than to waste them in discord. The girls who had wormed their way into being her aids would know to fire the clay slates that she had just finished up and set them aside for storage. In the past, it was rarely worth keeping the clay tally slates for long, but Luule felt it necessary. She could resume exactly where she left off with the records preserved. Still, in those moments, Luule felt a little bit like a fraud; the Weeping Warrior had always known what to do and made the right decisions absent any records. Was it right to depend on them and force all those who came after her to do so when before they had never been necessary? Clay tablets quickly took up space; room that could be used to store people, animals, or even supplies.

The air outside was crisp and slowly cooling as Luule walked through the Fingers. It wasn't winter yet, but the First Frost had already come and gone. If she hadn't been busy for most of the morning, Luule was certain that she would've seen frost clinging to every surface. It was a decidedly lazy time of year; the harvest of fish, rice, and agriculture was complete. Everything had been preserved and stored. Only a few stragglers were left bringing wood to the colliers to ensure they'd have enough fuel to keep warm.

All that remained were the warriors fighting in the south. The fighting had been going on and off for as long as Luule could remember. It was never big, never grand, just... a kinsman becoming an empty place at the table during feast days. A distant friend or client displaying scars or moving with a pained stiffness that never seemed to leave them. Luule knew, exactly, how many people suffered but it was never as real as those moments.

Sitting down at the base of the outer wall, Luule sighed. Thinking dark thoughts was not going to help her mood. Glancing up, Luule had barely an instant to process before horror overwhelmed her. Stalking above her, just out of reach, was a large, whiskered face. Cougar, he mind supplied quickly. The large highland cats were rare, but not unheard of; dangerous beasts that even hunters rightly feared.

A scream had nearly worked its way out of Luule's throat when the cougar... bulged. Its face rippled, expanding outwards like a bubble and its mouth opened up into a great, gaping pit. Flesh crinkled, bone cracked and splintered, before the cougar deflated and its face fell, clattering on the bricks beneath it.

"Jeree," Luule hissed. She could see his smug, toothy grin staring back down. His tongue lolled out for a moment before snapping back behind his teeth with a click.

He grinned. "Was I missed?" The warrior stooped to pick up the face of the cougar he'd dropped. Luule wondered how she could have mistaken it at all for real fur and skin. It had teeth of ivory with soft, muted tones of brown and yellow for skin. Both dyes were unusual, but the first was common to traders from the Island Makers, and the second could be bartered from the Ember-Eyes. Mother-of-pearl stood out along the mask's jaw, mimicking the cougar's characteristic bright face. Even the eyes were clearly aquamarine dye, manufactured from lapis luzili for all their unmatched brilliance. It was a piece of art made from materials gathered from the People and all of their neighbours, yet it was still not fur.

"The accuracy of Lake of Arrows has left much to be desired," Luule said dismissively. Jeree gaped and clutched his chest in silent exageration. "Yes, I wound you."

Jeree tensed, throwing himself upwards with a powerful jump. His cloak spun out, framing him in a halo of woven leaves, that briefly blinded Luule. By the time he reappeared, Jeree was sitting beside her. Mask on, concealing what Luule was certain was an enormous grin. He reeled away, jumping to his feet and coming to rest, spine perfectly straight. The short warrior looked almost respectable.

"The war is done," he said simply. "The settlement of Arrow Lake has officially surrendered. Their other holding, South Reach, had propped up one of their own as Most Ancient. They've washed their hands of everything. If we don't push them, they'll leave us be."

"Arrow Lake surrendered?" Luule asked. It almost seemed unreal that the settlement had fallen. It had been nearly twenty-years of on-and-off raiding.

"Aye." Jeree shivered. "Did you ever receive training as a shaman, Greatness?" After Luule denied it, Jeree continued. "I did. I... I was a Star Shaman, for a while. At least, I was in training to be one." Reaching under his cloak of crinkled, fallen leaves, Jeree pulled out a small, ivory disk. On it was a simple, open six-pointed star; etched and burned directly into the material.

"You undertook the Rite of Dark Night," Luule said. It shocked her; only the most spiritually attuned attempted it. Even then, many died.

"I failed it," the small warrior said. "I lasted for half the night before the voices of the Heart got to me. I was begging, screaming, kicking at the Ivory Door, just to be let out. It was loud enough, I'm sure I could've woken the sleeping dead. If I had stayed, however, I would've died." He shrugged. "The Mysteries entombed in the Cave of Stars were too great for me. It wasn't my path, I was incompatible; I returned to my mother's tribe and became a Horned Rider. Their Mysteries were possible to me."

"I see," Luule lied. How did it relate to Arrow Lake's fall? Jeree laughed and Luule cursed. She had said that last bit out loud, again, hadn't she?

"We had formed up around Arrow Lake, just outside the walls. The defenders were lining up across from us for one last, glorious charge; they were finished. Many of them were starved enough I'm sure they'd had more than a few idle thoughts about eating each other. Just before the battle, the eldest of the Ember-Eyes asked permission to unleash their magic. It was... have you seen how they tend fire? How they can conjure it up by dripping water on tinder? They... they managed to take the fire into them, somehow. Within a moment, the eldest war-shaman conjured flame from nowhere and hurled it in a steak of fire. It flew straight and true, further than a hunting bow, but less than a war bow."

Jeree was silent. He shuddered, "The orbs of flame burst against the shields and bodies of Arrow Lake's remaining defenders. Sparks rained everywhere. Some of the projectiles lodged themselves within their shields or armour. They went down screaming, trying futilely to somehow put it out. The grass at their feat caught alight... they threw down their weapons after that. We managed to storm the open gate and take nearly everyone captive."

"How...? How did the Ember-Eyes master fire?"

"It's not my Mystery," Jeree said. "I can ride and sneak and wear the skin of a beast. Fire shouldn't be possible to control. It's not alive, right?"

"How do the others see the Ember-Eyes," Luule asked.

"They're exalted by everyone. What might have been a risky battle was instantly crushed with their power. It's foolishness to cross a shaman, but now, the Ember-Eyes? They're beyond that. Their word is close to holy writ."

Luule nodded. She would have to prepare for their return; things would change if that was the case. Based on the look Jeree was giving her, he knew it too. "Thank you for returning so swiftly," she said. "Are the others behind you?"

"No. Not yet. The warriors are uncertain what you want done now. Whether to push the war — which I do not recommend, by the way — where to take the captured Debtors, and how my people are going to be settled. Things are up in the air and there's a lot of moving parts. Whatever you decide, a bit of delay was necessary; Arrow Lake's people were so starved, they would not have survived the journey here."

"Why should we let the war lie? Now would be the time to continue the pressure, to break South Reach so that they don't become a threat."

"If we push them, South Reach is going to ask for help. The Black Scars are southwest of them; not extremely far. They'd almost certainly be willing to help for concessions in lapis luzili, hunting grounds, and other resources. If we let them sit, they could become a problem in the future, but if we push them, they will be a problem right now. One that would be difficult to deal with. Striking the Black Scars would be impossible."

"Now that victory's arrived, the only question is what to do with it," Luule said. "Rest and I'll have instructions for you in the morning."

What should be done with the People of Arrow Lake? (If their settlement is not maintained, it will be destroyed for defensive reasons.)

[ ] [Lake] Maintain the settlement, but mix in a noticeable number of the People, primarily shaman and warriors. (++ Luxuries, ++ Crafts, + Materials, - Martial, - Magic)
[ ] [Lake] Maintain the settlement, but disperse all of Arrow Lake's population among the wider People. (+ Luxuries, + Crafts)
[ ] [Lake] Integrate Arrow Lake into the People; have them address the lack of luxuries. (+ Luxuries, + Staples)
[ ] [Lake] Integrate Arrow Lake into the People; have them address the lack of Materials. (+ Materials, + Craftworks)

Where should the Northlands merge with the People?

[ ] [North] Found their own settlement at River-Bend, west of the Fingers. (++ Staples, + Luxuries, - Crafts, - Materials)
[ ] [North] Found their own settlement at Wide River, east of the Fingers. (++ Staples, + Luxuries, - Crafts, - Materials, interfer with Pearl Diver trade?)
[ ] [North] Merge into Arrow Lake's settlement. (+ Staples, + Martial, + Luxuries)
[ ] [North] Upgrade the Cave of Stars into a full fledged settlement. (+ Staples, + Luxuries)
[ ] [North] Maintain their current summer camp as a year-round settlement. (+ Staples, ++ Luxuries, - Materials)
[ ] [North] Disperse among all of the People's settlements. (+ Martial, + Staples)

Continue to press the war with the remains of Arrow Lake (South Reach)?

[ ] [War] Yes.
[ ] [War] No.

AN: Vote is locked until tomorrow.

 

[Redium]

[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.

Spoiler: Actions

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.

 

[Redium]

[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.

 

[Redium]

[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.

 

[Redium]

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.

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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.

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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.

Knife OF obsidian?

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Yep.

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

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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?

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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?

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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)