[EMPIRE!CotW] The First Karlotian Council

[Minescratcher]

This is an event for the on-going - always recruiting - world-building game, Empire CotW. If interested, please check out our OOC here (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?625898-Empire-Call-of-the-World-OOC-1).

The First Karlotian Council

https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/808024182762766337/808029215587958804/Lankhmar.png

The Call was fading.

The Apaizak in their mountain monasteries debated fiercely the cause of their abandonment; the Zaindariak rebuilt their watchtowers and sharpened their blades. Some said the Aukeratutako Berria had failed in their duties to the Chorus, others that some other power strengthened the Swarm, still others that the scattered wanderers to the west were being finally wiped away, and from the northern lands of the Enperatriz came even stranger tales. But the Apaiza Nagusia Karlota Gun paid no attention to the debate. Her mind was made up long ago: the followers of the Prophet, though numerous, were yet too few to seize their destiny. Fate would have them triumph in the end, but faith gave no guidance as to what might happen first. Rumors swirled throughout the monastic circles that she had already asked certain high "open-ears" that she be sainted as the Proselytizer, and her actions did little to dispel them.

And so, one hundred years after the assault of the swarm and the enlightenment of the Prophet Latona Gun, the printing presses of Mendia de Voix stirred from their slumber, and messengers who knew the routes to the north and the west were found, and, as the year wound on, each major realm of Kaal received the message (and the messenger, who remained to learn their language and guide them back to Harana de Profeta):

In the name of the Prophet, the words of the Apaiza Nagusia: when the snows of winter melt and the first buds of spring appear, come to Harana de Profeta. There may you join the ranks of the New Godchosen and bring for yourself great destiny. We shall plot our path together.


When the time came, the foreign delegations found themselves met by the Zaindariak and guided along the safer, lower paths to Bataherria, the largest city in the valley. The Council had coincided with the Spring Festival, and though many residents stopped to gawk at the strangers the merchants were savvier, hawking their wares all along the path to the city plaza. The plaza had been cleared by order of the Apaiza Nagusia earlier, but the detritus of the festivities still lay about, flower petals and pastry crumbs adding dots of color to the bare stone bricks. In the center of the square was a raised wooden platform occupied by three Apaizak and with a Zaindari guard at each corner.

As the foreigners entered the plaza, one of the Apaizak stepped forward to speak, and each translator recounted her words:

"Welcome, travelers from afar, to the Valley of the Prophet. Others are expected, but please make yourselves comfortable here. The council will begin when all are present. If you have questions, I or the other priestesses will be glad to answer them."

[Potato_Priest]

A stretcher came up the mountain path into the city, carried by a tall Jenauak youth and a dour man in armor. On the stretcher, wrapped in wool blankets and shivering, was the white-bearded Mariscal.

"Don't go so slow!" he rasped to the men carrying the litter, "I want to get there in this lifetime, tortugas!"

Though he chuckled at his own jest, triggering a fit of coughing, the Jenuak and the armored Illopañan shared a worried look as they passed through the gate. The Mariscal had not taken the trip well.

As they approached the Apaziak, the Mariscal asked to be set down. Slowly, he unwrapped his blankets and crawled into a prostrate position before the priestess. After another fit of coughing, he cleared his throat and said a few words in the Jenuak language, albeit with a strong accent.
"<Praise the prophet, sisters. The words the boy said of this valley are good.>" He glanced up at the translator for an appraisal of his Jenuak and got a smile and a thumbs up.

[Ivor_The_Mad]

Everybody turned in surprise and confusion when the ship crested the horizon. At first, people were unsure if it was a ship or not since it was far off but as it got closer, it became evident that it was in fact some form of a sailing vessel. Talk turned to black magic as the ship bore down on the plaza. The guards stood ready to intercept the vessel. It slowed down as it reached the entrance to the plaza and people stared in wonder. The ship was unlike the ships of other nations to the north or south and it appeared to be piloted by two small figures in intricately carved and painted masks. One curious passer-by bent over to look under the ship to try to identify the reason for its apparent ability to sail on land and was met by about 2 dozen masked eyes. A small troop of Kupua stared back at them obviously confused by this tall noodly creature. The Kupua on top shouted something unintelligible and the boat started moving forward. The people parted until the boat reached the Apaizak standing at the front of the crowd.

The Kupua set the boat down. 6 of them stay with the boat while the other 6 along with the two on top of the boat, Tapu and the Great Elder Ashu. Ashu and Tapu stay near the front to make sure they don't miss anything while the other Kupua ran around to see all the new sights. Some went to terrorize the merchants while others decided to climb whatever was closest to gauge the surroundings. Some lucky citizens even found themselves with Kupua perched atop their heads.

[SOSDarkPhoenix]

Subtly and largely unnoticed, a figure dressed in a deep black cloak arrives (https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/807871969873625158/808215725650214912/Hooded_Figure.jpg), his arms tucked away and face concealed by the dark hood. The only bit of skin visible is his mouth, ashen-grey, boney ridges on either side of his jaw that end in small protrusions beneath his chin. The figure listens intently, visibly scanning the room as each new arrival comes. Whoever this man(?) is, they do not seem an obvious threat, but neither do they seem interested in approaching anyone for talk.https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/807871969873625158/808217575116636200/Hooded_Figure_Icon.png

[Torv]

A single man walks towards Bataherria in the glimmering spring sun. Three very large butterflies are fluttering around his head, sometimes venturing further away in loopy circles. Even from afar a gentle hum carries forward on the wind, building into a joyful tune for anyone pricking their ears up.

As the man draws closer to the plaza a Tximeleta with wings in the darkest hues of blue and purple settles on his right shoulder another with uniform lemon-yellow wings settles on his left shoulder, then the largest one with wings in a fiery orange lands on his head. Creating a patchy but colorful collar around the man’s head.

Entering the plaza anyone standing too close can feel a repugnant smell emanating from the man and flies seem to converge on bags slung over his shoulders, quickly chased of by the fluttering Tximeleta wings. Humming in unison as the messenger approaches the Apaizak the butterflies produce a faint melodic speech before the priestess in her own tongue.

Greetings prophet-kin, the quiet choir are most grateful for being invited to this grand day of new beginnings.

[Ausar]

From out of the sun, diving down, almost close enough to reach out and tough the valley's walls came a trio of griffon-riders. Sirs Adhelon & Roberay flanked the High Chaplain, Courtenay. Adhelon & Roberay were resplendent in full armour, burnished plates of silversteel, remnants of a time before the Exodus, purple & gold surcoats emblazoned with the three arrows of the Order rippling in the wind. Courtenay, short even for an order dwarf at barely 3ft 11, wore an elegantly simple doublet & hose under a flowing cloak, similarly emblazoned. The haughty cries of their steeds rang out as they soared over the gathering below. Courtenay whistled at the arrival of the strange ship, amazement quickly turning to mirth as the Kupua darted out from underneath. He pointed at a spot some 35 feet clear of the priestesses and his companions nodded, breaking off and diving down to the plaza below. They cleared the space, the griffon wings and beaks deterring onlookers. Courtenay guided his mount down to a graceful landing between his knightly fellows and dismounted, stretching his legs before kneeling in prayer. Adhelon & Roberay bowed their heads in turn and after a minute the High Chaplain stood, stepping over towards the priestesses.
"Awfully sorry to deprive you of your messenger's company, but there were rather more interested students of your fine tongue than they could handle in so brief a time as a year, so they remained behind. High Chaplain Courtenay, of the Order. I trust the Council has been without a significant hiccup of preparation?" He was almost frightfully urbane.

[Minescratcher]

An Unexpected Guest


A stretcher came up the mountain path into the city, carried by a tall Jenauak youth and a dour man in armor. On the stretcher, wrapped in wool blankets and shivering, was the white-bearded Mariscal.

"Don't go so slow!" he rasped to the men carrying the litter, "I want to get there in this lifetime, tortugas!"

Though he chuckled at his own jest, triggering a fit of coughing, the Jenuak and the armored Illopañan shared a worried look as they passed through the gate. The Mariscal had not taken the trip well.

As they approached the Apaziak, the Mariscal asked to be set down. Slowly, he unwrapped his blankets and crawled into a prostrate position before the priestess. After another fit of coughing, he cleared his throat and said a few words in the Jenuak language, albeit with a strong accent.
"<Praise the prophet, sisters. The words the boy said of this valley are good.>" He glanced up at the translator for an appraisal of his Jenuak and got a smile and a thumbs up.

The Apaiza looked down at the ancient man with shock and surprise. "Praise be to the prophet indeed! A human speaker of the holy tongue? From the north? We have heard little of you in decades past - tell me of your people! But first - " she turned to the nearest Zaindari " - water for our blessed guest! And cushions!" The guard saluted and sprinted off, returning a few moments later with two others bearing a pitcher of cold water and a pile of soft pillows.

When the Mariscal was settled in once more, the Apaiza turned to him again, her voice smoother but still quivering with excitement.

"I am Apaiza Ellande, and you have reached the lands of the Orden Santua, the keepers of the Prophet's words. Please, tell me of you and your people! We had so little idea there were still other New Godchosen beyond the Tximeleta - really just rumors and fairy-tales."


The Land-Ship


Everybody turned in surprise and confusion when the ship crested the horizon. At first, people were unsure if it was a ship or not since it was far off but as it got closer, it became evident that it was in fact some form of a sailing vessel. Talk turned to black magic as the ship bore down on the plaza. The guards stood ready to intercept the vessel. It slowed down as it reached the entrance to the plaza and people stared in wonder. The ship was unlike the ships of other nations to the north or south and it appeared to be piloted by two small figures in intricately carved and painted masks. One curious passer-by bent over to look under the ship to try to identify the reason for its apparent ability to sail on land and was met by about 2 dozen masked eyes. A small troop of Kupua stared back at them obviously confused by this tall noodly creature. The Kupua on top shouted something unintelligible and the boat started moving forward. The people parted until the boat reached the Apaizak standing at the front of the crowd.

The Kupua set the boat down. 6 of them stay with the boat while the other 6 along with the two on top of the boat, Tapu and the Great Elder Ashu. Ashu and Tapu stay near the front to make sure they don't miss anything while the other Kupua ran around to see all the new sights. Some went to terrorize the merchants while others decided to climb whatever was closest to gauge the surroundings. Some lucky citizens even found themselves with Kupua perched atop their heads.

"What in the name of the Prophet!" exclaimed one of the Zaindariak, drawing his blade as the ship approached. All four rushed forwards, interposing themselves between the wooden platform and the ship.

"Identify yourselves!" yelled the guard, his talwar still in his hand. "Are you guests of the Apaizak?"


A Dark Figure



Subtly and largely unnoticed, a figure dressed in a deep black cloak arrives (https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/807871969873625158/808215725650214912/Hooded_Figure.jpg), his arms tucked away and face concealed by the dark hood. The only bit of skin visible is his mouth, ashen-grey, boney ridges on either side of his jaw that end in small protrusions beneath his chin. The figure listens intently, visibly scanning the room as each new arrival comes. Whoever this man(?) is, they do not seem an obvious threat, but neither do they seem interested in approaching anyone for talk.https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/807871969873625158/808217575116636200/Hooded_Figure_Icon.png

The sudden arrival of a very large, very seaworthy ship in the plaza had drawn the attention of the Zaindariak away from the new figure, but he caught the eye of one of the Apaiza. After a brief whispered conversation with the others, she slipped away from the platform, one hand on a kukri concealed in her robes, and approached him.

"Greetings, cloaked one. Are you a guest here? There is no need to conceal yourself."


Flying Butter


A single man walks towards Bataherria in the glimmering spring sun. Three very large butterflies are fluttering around his head, sometimes venturing further away in loopy circles. Even from afar a gentle hum carries forward on the wind, building into a joyful tune for anyone pricking their ears up.

As the man draws closer to the plaza a Tximeleta with wings in the darkest hues of blue and purple settles on his right shoulder another with uniform lemon-yellow wings settles on his left shoulder, then the largest one with wings in a fiery orange lands on his head. Creating a patchy but colorful collar around the man’s head.

Entering the plaza anyone standing too close can feel a repugnant smell emanating from the man and flies seem to converge on bags slung over his shoulders, quickly chased of by the fluttering Tximeleta wings. Humming in unison as the messenger approaches the Apaizak the butterflies produce a faint melodic speech before the priestess in her own tongue.

Greetings prophet-kin, the quiet choir are most grateful for being invited to this grand day of new beginnings.

"Greetings, winged friends," replied Apaiza Ellande with a smile. "Ever since the Prophet brought your people and mine together we have been friends. Your voice at this council shall be of great value. I trust your travels were safe?"

[Ivor_The_Mad]

The Land-Ship

"What in the name of the Prophet!" exclaimed one of the Zaindariak, drawing his blade as the ship approached. All four rushed forwards, interposing themselves between the wooden platform and the ship.

"Identify yourselves!" yelled the guard, his talwar still in his hand. "Are you guests of the Apaizak?"

Ashu, standing on the bow, a foot over the guard, looks down at him. A tad confused as to why this stranger is standing there she takes a stick and taps on his helmet to make sure he is paying good attention. "Hele mai mākou. ʻike i ke kāne nāna i kono iā mākou. hele mai mākou mai kahi lōʻihi loa. nui kou poʻo!!" She speaks quickly in what sounds like jibberish while making wild hand gestures that seem to mean something like. "Lemme in"

[OmnivorousOgre]

Those who stroll around the city gate can hear a heated conversation outside.
“This is a travesty! Let us in!”
“No. You cannot enter.”
“How dare you? We are the delegation of the fair City-state of Rutovir!”
“Yeah, and I’m the Apaiza Nagusia.”
“Funny you should mention her, she sent us a written invitation. Would you dare deny entry from her invited guests?”
“I… well…”
“Exactly. Now let us in!”

The gate creaks as it slowly opens, and in pours a mischief of two hundred Dara-un ratmen. Some scamper on all fours, while the rest strut upright. The crowd shrinks away before them, while the whispers of “Who let them in? Thieving scum”, “What a terrible omen” and “Hurry, lest you catch the plague” create a cacophony of hushed voices.

Undeterred, this unexpected swarm acquires its targets fast, and soon the unwitting merchants are beset by ratmen looking to both buy and sell, haggling as much as possible. While their attire varies from common clothing to glorified rags, one of them wears what are genuinely fine clothes. Just shy of three feet tall like most of his compatriots, he steps before the platform and removes his feather-adorned hat. He opens with an exaggerated bow and speaks:

“Greetings, esteemed hosts. I am Grandmaster of the Commerce Guild of fair Rutovir, Raba-yan. I am looking forward to profitable negotiations in your council.”

--

One member of the mischief is particularly intrigued by the ship in the middle of the market, and steps up to the Kupua nearest to it. “A handy little boat you got there. A little worn down and getting it away from the marketplace will be a handful, so best I can do is four pennings and my late brother’s left shoe. Don’t worry, he only got to use it twice.”

--

Another Dara-un spots the hooded figure. “What a fine cloak you have there, mister. Know what someone with such exquisite taste needs? A dagger! Crafted only with the hardest of steel in a forge so hot not a single one of the smiths survived. Twenty-five marks, a special offer just for you. Usually I’d ask for double that.”

[Minescratcher]

Flying Dwarves


From out of the sun, diving down, almost close enough to reach out and tough the valley's walls came a trio of griffon-riders. Sirs Adhelon & Roberay flanked the High Chaplain, Courtenay. Adhelon & Roberay were resplendent in full armour, burnished plates of silversteel, remnants of a time before the Exodus, purple & gold surcoats emblazoned with the three arrows of the Order rippling in the wind. Courtenay, short even for an order dwarf at barely 3ft 11, wore an elegantly simple doublet & hose under a flowing cloak, similarly emblazoned. The haughty cries of their steeds rang out as they soared over the gathering below. Courtenay whistled at the arrival of the strange ship, amazement quickly turning to mirth as the Kupua darted out from underneath. He pointed at a spot some 35 feet clear of the priestesses and his companions nodded, breaking off and diving down to the plaza below. They cleared the space, the griffon wings and beaks deterring onlookers. Courtenay guided his mount down to a graceful landing between his knightly fellows and dismounted, stretching his legs before kneeling in prayer. Adhelon & Roberay bowed their heads in turn and after a minute the High Chaplain stood, stepping over towards the priestesses.
"Awfully sorry to deprive you of your messenger's company, but there were rather more interested students of your fine tongue than they could handle in so brief a time as a year, so they remained behind. High Chaplain Courtenay, of the Order. I trust the Council has been without a significant hiccup of preparation?" He was almost frightfully urbane.

"Welcome, High Chaplain. I am certainly glad the Apaiza Nagusia's messenger met with such a grand reception," replied Apaiza Ellande, a tinge of suspicion in her voice. The other Apaizak glanced between each other with distrust in their eyes.

"The Council has been well prepared, but we shall measure it by its success. May I presume that your presence here means you are willing to hear the words of the Prophet?"


The Land-Ship


Ashu, standing on the bow, a foot over the guard, looks down at him. A tad confused as to why this stranger is standing there she takes a stick and taps on his helmet to make sure he is paying good attention. "Hele mai mākou. ʻike i ke kāne nāna i kono iā mākou. hele mai mākou mai kahi lōʻihi loa. nui kou poʻo!!" She speaks quickly in what sounds like jibberish while making wild hand gestures that seem to mean something like. "Lemme in"

The Zaindari sat down suddenly, evidently unprepared to be bopped on the head. The other three drew their talwars, but one of the Apaizak pushed past them before they could advance.

"These creatures do not seem to be a threat, Zaindariak!" She stopped before the boat and speaks slowly and loudly. "I am Apaiza Ilariñe. Welcome to the Council. Is our messenger among you?"


Rats


Those who stroll around the city gate can hear a heated conversation outside.
“This is a travesty! Let us in!”
“No. You cannot enter.”
“How dare you? We are the delegation of the fair City-state of Rutovir!”
“Yeah, and I’m the Apaiza Nagusia.”
“Funny you should mention her, she sent us a written invitation. Would you dare deny entry from her invited guests?”
“I… well…”
“Exactly. Now let us in!”

The gate creaks as it slowly opens, and in pours a mischief of two hundred Dara-un ratmen. Some scamper on all fours, while the rest strut upright. The crowd shrinks away before them, while the whispers of “Who let them in? Thieving scum”, “What a terrible omen” and “Hurry, lest you catch the plague” create a cacophony of hushed voices.

Undeterred, this unexpected swarm acquires its targets fast, and soon the unwitting merchants are beset by ratmen looking to both buy and sell, haggling as much as possible. While their attire varies from common clothing to glorified rags, one of them wears what are genuinely fine clothes. Just shy of three feet tall like most of his compatriots, he steps before the platform and removes his feather-adorned hat. He opens with an exaggerated bow and speaks:

“Greetings, esteemed hosts. I am Grandmaster of the Commerce Guild of fair Rutovir, Raba-yan. I am looking forward to profitable negotiations in your council.”

The Zaindariak and Apaizak stepped away from the creatures as they entered the plaza, but Apaiza Ellande reluctantly stepped forward. "Welcome, Grandmaster Raba-yan. I will admit, I am surprised to see your folk here, but I am glad you have chosen to hear the words of the Prophet. I am sure it will be profitable for both of us."

[Ivor_The_Mad]

The Gait

Ashu stared down at Apaiza Ilariñe for a few seconds, then seeming to understand what she was saying, she made three stomps in quick succession on the deck and four of the Kupua hopped up on the deck and made a b-line for the small closed off "cabin" A few moments later the emerged with a makeshift chair with the messenger sitting upon it. He had been given a crown one size too small and had some other wood and gold ornaments hanging from him. He was obviously asleep from his snores and loosely dangling from his hand, an empty wooden cup which still had the remainders of his drink in it. The four Kupua hoisted him and his chair into the air while singing a chant-like song as they hopped off the boat and scurried over to Apaiza Ilariñe with the messenger. Ashu made a grand gesture towards the messenger "manaʻo wau hiki iā ʻoe ke hoʻihoʻi iā ia. leʻaleʻa ʻo ia".

The Rats

The Kupua were intrigued when the ratfolk approached their ship. They had seen rodents before but non like this. They, while still taller than the Kupua, were the most similar creatures they had encountered that day. While the Ratfolk was talking, Ik, a troublesome Kupua decided to sneak around to see if he had a tail. Upon finding such a tail he hopped on. The other Kupua couldn't hold in their entertainment and started chanting "Pāʻani huelo! Pāʻani huelo! Pāʻani huelo! Pāʻani huelo! Pāʻani huelo!" which loosely translates to "tail game"

Followers

Arturo del Sanz was minding his own business when he just so happened to turn around and see a group of about 5 Kupua staring up at him. They seemed to be entranced by his armor. He tried to ignore them and walk away but they continued to follow him around. He turned back to scold them when he felt something land on his shoulder. He turned to look and found a Kupua clinging to his shoulder. It was at this moment when the other Kupua made their move. Two Kupua who had "borrowed" some rope from a merchant's stall ran two quick circles around his legs while another jumped up and snatched the shiny locket hanging from his neck. He turned enraged to chase after the thieves but found himself on the ground. The Kupua danced around in front of him as he went to stand, danging his locket in front of him. The chase was on.

[Potato_Priest]

Apazia
The way that the Jenuak kept referring to people as the new godchosen was somewhat worrying, but surely it must be a quirk of the translation.

The Mariscal spoke: "<we... I am sorry. My Jenuak is not good now.>" He switched to the Illopañan language, relying on the Jenuak youth to translate.

"We live on the northern coast of Kaal, and we follow the prophet Latoga Gun and her mandate, but asking me to describe my people is like asking that the ocean be poured out of a teapot. . Gaizka here could tell you more."

He gestured to the Jenuak boy and paused to cough.

"Gaizka tells me this valley was the first home of the prophet?"

Kapua, Dara-Un

Arturo del Sanz scrambled to his feet, furious. He drew his sword, and slashed at the Kapua holding the locket, shouting something in Illopañan that noone translated, though Gaizka watched with a bemused smirk. As the Kapua easily dodged Arturo's blade, the Mariscal let out a plaintive groan.

"Arturo." The preguntador paused at the word from the chief agent of the Redención. "We are in the valley of the prophet and you will not shed blood."

Arturo growled, but sheathed his sword and started futilely lunging after the Kapua, shouting more angry Illopanan curses, stumbling through the crowd.

The Mariscal gestured to one of the dara-un merchants, waving him over. "That angry young young man has lost something valuable to him. Would you help an old fellow by retrieving it for me?" He winked and weakly jangled a bag of coins somewhere in his pile of furs.

[SOSDarkPhoenix]

A Dark Figure



The sudden arrival of a very large, very seaworthy ship in the plaza had drawn the attention of the Zaindariak away from the new figure, but he caught the eye of one of the Apaiza. After a brief whispered conversation with the others, she slipped away from the platform, one hand on a kukri concealed in her robes, and approached him.

"Greetings, cloaked one. Are you a guest here? There is no need to conceal yourself."


"Be at ease, human, there is no need for weapons. I do not mean you harm. I am a simple wanderer from abroad, come to watch the proceedings, and perhaps speak to this prophet of yours." As he speaks, the boned ridges of his jaw become more pronounced, as do the sharp teeth. "If my presence is unwelcome, I will leave without argument."







Another Dara-un spots the hooded figure. “What a fine cloak you have there, mister. Know what someone with such exquisite taste needs? A dagger! Crafted only with the hardest of steel in a forge so hot not a single one of the smiths survived. Twenty-five marks, a special offer just for you. Usually I’d ask for double that.”


The figure's cloak upon closer inspection seems to be made of advanced materials more than standard cloth and hides, the surface appearing almost glossy. As the Dara-un looks at the strange man, he turns his head to look directly at the ratman, revealing eyes that glow deep red like sunlight reflected in pools of blood. From beneath the cloak, his left arm emerges, a gently humming magitech knife held tightly in his grip. "I have my own dagger, but not one I intend to use today. What I seek is far more valuable than weaponry. Tell me, strange creature... from what lands do you hail?"
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/807871969873625158/808217575116636200/Hooded_Figure_Icon.png

[Ausar]

Flying Dwarves Indeed


"Welcome, High Chaplain. I am certainly glad the Apaiza Nagusia's messenger met with such a grand reception," replied Apaiza Ellande, a tinge of suspicion in her voice. The other Apaizak glanced between each other with distrust in their eyes.

"The Council has been well prepared, but we shall measure it by its success. May I presume that your presence here means you are willing to hear the words of the Prophet?"


"Splendid! I hope for our fellow invitees' sake the Prophet's words are brief and simple - they seem excitable folk, on the main. Of course, I come as an observer, an emissary of Uhlonna to this grand affair. A pleasure it is too, so long has it been since the church encountered followers of a Prophet. Uhlonna knows the church respects Prophets. Anyhow, I must greet the other guests." The Chaplain bowed low, eyes twinkling. "Until the Council sits, Apaizak."


Water -> Land, Land -> Sky?

Some time later, Courtenay swaggered contritely over towards the ship, peering up at the figures on deck. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called up in Eredian, "Therl uth'ith hafen'ham? Narth uth'ith alen'norl!" He pointed up to the bow then shaded his eyes, peering about. He chuckled to himself as he waited for an answer, thumbs tucked into his belt.

[OmnivorousOgre]

Apaiza Ellande
Your folk. She might have as well said your kind. But it mattered not, the Dara-un were well used to others’ contempt. As long as Raba-yan would walk away from here with a fatter purse, he didn’t care what any of them thought of him. “But of course,” he said with a wry grin, “how could we not? After all, there are no qualms between brothers and sisters of the faith to trade, no?”

Ik and the landship
These strange-looking fellows seemed to have even stranger customs. After being bewildered for a moment, the Dara-un got the gist of it. Clearly the small mask-folk expected something to happen with the one who’d grabbed on to his tail. “Your proposal for alternative payment is… accepted.” He drops to all fours and starts frantically running around the market, zigzagging and hopping in an effort to tire the Kupua out. When the small fellow finally releases its grip, he takes a breather for a moment.

“Hey, cousin!”
“Yeah?” Nine different voices answer in unison from different directions.
“Come help me transport my new purchase!”
“What’s in it for me?” The choir replies.
“Ugh, are you trying to bleed me dry? Fine, a pfenning for each of you!”
“Deal!” the voices echo in the alleys.

In the blink of an eye, nine Dara-un descend upon the scene of the tail game to join its unfortunate participant. They grab hold of the ship and start dragging it away.

Mysterious stranger
“You really are a man of exquisite taste, sir.” The Dara-un says while eyeing the magitech knife. “But you know what they say, anything that’s not in use is for sale. My dagger and two marks for your weapon. A fine trade, wouldn’t you say?” When the stranger starts questioning his origins, the merchant puts on a feigned frown. “Oi oi, sir. First you pull a weapon, then tell me you want valuables and finally inquire as to where I live? A lesser rat would call you a burglar at this point. But I want to believe in your intentions being innocent, sir. If you can give me… an assurance that you aren’t up to anything dishonest, I’ll tell you everything you need.” As he finishes his short speech, he rubs two coins together in his hand, revealing quite clearly what kind of “assurance” he’s looking for.

The Mariscal and the Kupua chase
The ratfolk that the Mariscal waved to scooted over. Thankfully he had seen the entire scene unfold. “Understood, good sir. Prepare a second pouch for my return as well. The ginger vinegar from my personal collections can cure whatever ails you, I guarantee it.” With that he gives chase to the group of Kupua, but is soon joined by three others of his kind.

“The reward is mine!”
“Back off, the offer was made to me!”
“Pfft. I’m the fastest of us, it’s mine!”
“You couldn’t catch your dead grandfather if your last meal depended on it!”

These bickering (and sometimes biting) ratmen manage to disperse some of the crowd due to their reputation as diseased vagabonds. While unintended this also aids Arturo in his pursuit of the diminutive tricksters.

[Ivor_The_Mad]

The Chase

The Kupua were overjoyed as their plan worked. They dodged and weaved through the crowd climbing over people and stalls the kept a pace just out of reach of their pursuers. As they ran they tossed the locket back and forth between themselves. Unfortunately, their fun came grinding to a stop when the cry went up "Kū! Kū! Kū!"

The Boat

The Kupua was taken aback when several more rats appeared. They were even more surprised when they were hoisted into the air as the rats began to make away with their boat. They hopped down off the boat and rushed in front of the rats, barring their path. When the rats showed no intention of stopping the Kupua grew a bit more anxious. They weren't used to other people taking their stuff. Especially boats because to the Kupua, boats are a sacred God-given gift. The normal reaction would be to attack the offenders but Ashu told them no violence today so they restrained themselves and instead warned the rats to stop. "Kū! Kū! Kū! Kū! Kū! Kū! Mai hoʻopā i ka moku! he kapu. hōʻino ʻoe iā ʻoe iho a me ka ʻohana! kau i ka moku i lalo!" Which roughly translated means "Stop! Stop! Put the boat down. It is bad! take boat get bad curse! put boat down!" The Kupuas eyes begin to glow bright red.

The Kupua with the locket paused. They turned towards the sound ad saw what was happening. Immediately forgetting about the chase. Making sure to give it a good lick, they dropped the locket, which was scooped up by Arturo, and they ran off in the direction of the boat.

[Torv]

Two-Legged Steed



"Greetings, winged friends," replied Apaiza Ellande with a smile. "Ever since the Prophet brought your people and mine together we have been friends. Your voice at this council shall be of great value. I trust your travels were safe?"

Distracted by all the commotion the choir takes to the air, replying once they have a better picture of what is going on.
Yes, your messenger has been a lovely substitute for proper Zuhaitzas, he even caught some food a few days ago.
Our other neighbours however seem to be quite . . . lively. Would you like a pair of airborne eyes in addition to the Zaindariak’s positions? Unfortunately we are unable to interfere ourselves without the backing of our community behind us.

[Minescratcher]

Winged Friends


Two-Legged Steed



Distracted by all the commotion the choir takes to the air, replying once they have a better picture of what is going on.
Yes, your messenger has been a lovely substitute for proper Zuhaitzas, he even caught some food a few days ago.
Our other neighbours however seem to be quite . . . lively. Would you like a pair of airborne eyes in addition to the Zaindariak’s positions? Unfortunately we are unable to interfere ourselves without the backing of our community behind us.

"That would be greatly appreciated," Apaiza Ellande replied. "Lively is not the word I would use to describe them, but you are more tactful than I!" She chuckled. "Can I send for anything before the council starts? Water, meat? The fruits of our valley are yours, fellow Godchosen."


The Land-Ship


The Gait
Ashu stared down at Apaiza Ilariñe for a few seconds, then seeming to understand what she was saying, she made three stomps in quick succession on the deck and four of the Kupua hopped up on the deck and made a b-line for the small closed off "cabin" A few moments later the emerged with a makeshift chair with the messenger sitting upon it. He had been given a crown one size too small and had some other wood and gold ornaments hanging from him. He was obviously asleep from his snores and loosely dangling from his hand, an empty wooden cup which still had the remainders of his drink in it. The four Kupua hoisted him and his chair into the air while singing a chant-like song as they hopped off the boat and scurried over to Apaiza Ilariñe with the messenger. Ashu made a grand gesture towards the messenger "manaʻo wau hiki iā ʻoe ke hoʻihoʻi iā ia. leʻaleʻa ʻo ia".

Apaiza Ilariñe stared open-mouthed at the scene unfolding above her. "Kasimiro! Esnatu!" she yelled. The messenger stirred, gazing blankly forwards before suddenly realizing who was speaking and jerking upright.

"Kasimiro, who are these folk? They seem to have come for the council, but none of them can speak our language." For obvious reasons, she silently added.


An Unexpected Guest


Apazia
The way that the Jenuak kept referring to people as the new godchosen was somewhat worrying, but surely it must be a quirk of the translation.

The Mariscal spoke: "<we... I am sorry. My Jenuak is not good now.>" He switched to the Illopañan language, relying on the Jenuak youth to translate.

"We live on the northern coast of Kaal, and we follow the prophet Latoga Gun and her mandate, but asking me to describe my people is like asking that the ocean be poured out of a teapot. . Gaizka here could tell you more."

He gestured to the Jenuak boy and paused to cough.

"Gaizka tells me this valley was the first home of the prophet?"

"You have much to tell us of these people, then, Gaizka!" Ellande said. "But for now: this valley is indeed the birthplace of the Prophet and bears her title, and we Jenauak are her people. She gave us our tenets and our destiny - but you surely know this from your own Apaizak. This valley is full of holy places, and we would welcome any of your folk who wish to come here to train in the faith. Until the council begins, though, you should rest; your questions may be answered then."


A Dark Figure



"Be at ease, human, there is no need for weapons. I do not mean you harm. I am a simple wanderer from abroad, come to watch the proceedings, and perhaps speak to this prophet of yours." As he speaks, the boned ridges of his jaw become more pronounced, as do the sharp teeth. "If my presence is unwelcome, I will leave without argument."

The Apaiza recoiled in surprise at the mention of weapons, but collected herself quickly. "You may find some difficulty in speaking with the Prophet, may the Chorus rest her soul, wanderer," she replied. "But if you wish to commune in the mountains, I can bring you to one of my superiors."


Rats


Apaiza Ellande
Your folk. She might have as well said your kind. But it mattered not, the Dara-un were well used to others’ contempt. As long as Raba-yan would walk away from here with a fatter purse, he didn’t care what any of them thought of him. “But of course,” he said with a wry grin, “how could we not? After all, there are no qualms between brothers and sisters of the faith to trade, no?”

"You are a merchant then? We have few such among our people, the consequences of the century-old tragedy, but we are always open to trade. I cannot speak for the Orden Santua in such matters, but I suspect they may look more favorably on the coin of the faithful." She winked at Raba-Yan.

[moossabi]

An Announcement and an Offer

When the time came, the foreign delegations found themselves met by the Zaindariak and guided along the safer, lower paths to Bataherria, the largest city in the valley. The Council had coincided with the Spring Festival, and though many residents stopped to gawk at the strangers the merchants were savvier, hawking their wares all along the path to the city plaza. The plaza had been cleared by order of the Apaiza Nagusia earlier, but the detritus of the festivities still lay about, flower petals and pastry crumbs adding dots of color to the bare stone bricks. In the center of the square was a raised wooden platform occupied by three Apaizak and with a Zaindari guard at each corner.

As the foreigners entered the plaza, one of the Apaizak stepped forward to speak, and each translator recounted her words:

"Welcome, travelers from afar, to the Valley of the Prophet. Others are expected, but please make yourselves comfortable here. The council will begin when all are present. If you have questions, I or the other priestesses will be glad to answer them."

Among the tumultuous hordes of visitors walked a lone Ashen, its approximation of a human face blank and unassuming as it shambled past every stern gaze and eager offer with its uncaring, burning eyes turned ever-forward. It had been on the march for days on end, feeling no exhaustion yet still strained in its own way by the distance from the Scorchlands. Now, its destination was finally within reach, its practiced words practically swimming through the being's soul.

The official opening of the proceedings found the Ashen lurking in a back corner of the plaza, a curiosity afforded only the occasional glare but generally kept alone. Once the hostess had given her introduction and amidst the various activities of the other dignitaries, the creature begins to speak in a voice which projects throughout the entire area, demanding that attention be given to its gravelly tone. "Dignitaries of Kaal, I have come bearing a message for all from the absent King Borislav." He speaks a rough dialect of a language common to most of central Kaal, not very difficult for translators (if even necessary) to handle. "I am but a herald, delivering the message of our noble and potent liege." A series of resounding coughs echoes across the entire plaza, the being's voice soon supplanted by a far smoother and more regal tone.

"Denizens of Kaal, it has been some years since the Swarm ransacked your lands. Ours were spared through our own force of will and undying dedication to victory. The time has now come for us to reassert our authority within the realms surrounding my holdings, but you need not be afraid; my rule shall be firm and my triumphs swift, but I see more value in cooperation with my fellow realms than in conflict. I have no ambitions to advance upon these hallowed mountains, and shall not begrudge those who spur our friendship."

"However, I will leave you with some thoughts. For those of you old enough who still can, think back a hundred years ago to the day this continent was bereaved by the Swarm. The Godchosen offered no protection, leaving thousands to be devoured by the oncoming tide. Only a simple sound stands between you and annihilation, and you have all surely noted that its notes have grown thinner with time. Mine is the only realm to have staved off the Swarm on our own terms, and behold the results: my people are undying, undaunted, readier to face the coming onslaught with each passing moment. Cooperation is just as much in your best interest as it is in mine."

"If you tire of these mountain-dwellers' talk of faith and desire action, the Scorchlands are open to you. Make no mistake: the fate of Kaal will be decided by my legions, the only question is how soon you are willing to join your strength with mine. Only through unity can the continent be prepared for the coming storm, and only I, King Borislav, shall be able to finish the Swarm once and for all."

The voice falls silent, the mouth of the lone Ashen sealing as the creature turns to depart the city.

[OmnivorousOgre]

The Boat
“What now?” The boat-owner-to-be sighed. Not understanding a word the Kupua said, he instead scans the crowd for familiar faces.

“Uncles! Come here!”
”What is it, Ereb-an?”
“These fellows seem to have second thoughts of our transaction. If you’d kindly make sure they don’t get in our way.”
“You know the price. Half an orung each.”
“Grr. Fine.” These fees were starting to eat into his anticipated profits.

With another round of negotiations concluded, the three new Dara-un block the path of the Kupua. Above average in height, they make their best effort at stopping those below their size from getting anywhere close to the boat. Meanwhile the boat carriers continue on, disregarding the earlier warnings.

Apaiza Ellande
“Yes, indeed. Trade is the foundation upon which our city is built… metaphorically, of course. And the Commerce Guild oversees it all. I shall do my utmost to not disappoint the Orden Santua, then, for the benefit of us both.” Technically the truth, although any benefit for the Orden Santua would be purely incidental.

Herald of King Borislav
Raba-yan was visibly troubled upon hearing the words of the Ashen herald. The ash demons inhabiting the barren hellscape east of Agrantir were well known to the Dara-un. And by well known he meant that his people knew well to never run across one if at all possible. They had a king? A king intending on conquest, no less. Troublesome. But… even Raba-yan’s father hadn’t been born during the Swarm’s heyday. Yet he still was well aware of how willing the Godchosen had been to let all the ratfolk be annihilated. Someone willing to commit themselves to the eradication of the Swarm could be… useful. Perhaps there was a fine line Rutovir could walk, to benefit from this brash king’s influence while retaining her independence. He’d have to take this up with the guilds upon his return.

[Rolepgeek]

There had been much discussion within the Courts regarding who might be suitable to send to meet with the Harana, when the invitation had been received. The Everlasting Monarch of Dawn and Dusk consulted their advisors in the twilight hours, while the Naajaabaa of Noon argued under the midday sun - but in the end, it was inter-Court politics that decided the matter. Upon hearing that the Court of Dawn would send only a Prince, the Everlasting Monarch of Dusk, Thath’denauhaudei (Who Sees Beyond The Horizon) chose to attend in person. The Court of Noon pondered for a time sending several representatives, but in the end only one, one of the most prestigious and influential of the Naajaabaa, Hiiheyeinaukhut (Who Carries Heavy Burdens), would travel to the home of the Jenuak and hear their wisdom on behalf of the Court of Noon. Their enemies hoped they would be able to blame any diplomatic failures on a rival - their allies knew it would bring Hiiheyeinaukhut's district much prestige, and earn them favor with the one most commonly thought to deserve the mask of Titan.

Political maneuvering took its time, however, and so it was that only when the Ashen messenger was leaving that they would pass a trio with faces hidden. A knight in shimmering armor - a noble in sapphiric finery - and a regal figure in garb so dark of color it was as though the night sky itself had been wrapped around their form. The fourth member of their party, one Balduin Vicandi, wore more familiar clothes to the people of Harana de Profeta, being the Jenuak messenger sent to teach the Hiinanikhebio’ of the Jenuak language, and learn it themselves.

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/801580978745245766/810978508003606538/fantasy_knight_by_fatmarco_d63lfsv.jpg

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/a0/95/7c/a0957c94271e2f7302529130b235fa7f.jpg
Mask is actually:
https://i.etsystatic.com/7106678/r/il/7a5ef8/510895377/il_794xN.510895377_jfsv.jpg

https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/009/364/589/large/fanny-poulain-deus.jpg?1518559179

“We are brought both joy and honor to find ourselves in your presence, Apaizak,” Hiiheyeinaukhut proclaimed, stepping forward and bowing deeply. The knight dipped at the knees to bow, instead, and the figure in black merely gave a slow, somber dip of the head in recognition. As the Najaabaa’s posture returned to normal, they continued: “May Moon and Sun shine on you with equal favor, and curses be held at bay for seven generations and further. I hope this Council to be an uplifting experience for all people present."

[Minescratcher]

The Masquerade


There had been much discussion within the Courts regarding who might be suitable to send to meet with the Harana, when the invitation had been received. The Everlasting Monarch of Dawn and Dusk consulted their advisors in the twilight hours, while the Naajaabaa of Noon argued under the midday sun - but in the end, it was inter-Court politics that decided the matter. Upon hearing that the Court of Dawn would send only a Prince, the Everlasting Monarch of Dusk, Thath’denauhaudei (Who Sees Beyond The Horizon) chose to attend in person. The Court of Noon pondered for a time sending several representatives, but in the end only one, one of the most prestigious and influential of the Naajaabaa, Hiiheyeinaukhut (Who Carries Heavy Burdens), would travel to the home of the Jenuak and hear their wisdom on behalf of the Court of Noon. Their enemies hoped they would be able to blame any diplomatic failures on a rival - their allies knew it would bring Hiiheyeinaukhut's district much prestige, and earn them favor with the one most commonly thought to deserve the mask of Titan.

Political maneuvering took its time, however, and so it was that only when the Ashen messenger was leaving that they would pass a trio with faces hidden. A knight in shimmering armor - a noble in sapphiric finery - and a regal figure in garb so dark of color it was as though the night sky itself had been wrapped around their form. The fourth member of their party, one Balduin Vicandi, wore more familiar clothes to the people of Harana de Profeta, being the Jenuak messenger sent to teach the Hiinanikhebio’ of the Jenuak language, and learn it themselves.

*snip*

“We are brought both joy and honor to find ourselves in your presence, Apaizak,” Hiiheyeinaukhut proclaimed, stepping forward and bowing deeply. The knight dipped at the knees to bow, instead, and the figure in black merely gave a slow, somber dip of the head in recognition. As the Najaabaa’s posture returned to normal, they continued: “May Moon and Sun shine on you with equal favor, and curses be held at bay for seven generations and further. I hope this Council to be an uplifting experience for all people present."

If the masked figures disconcerted Apaiza Ellande, she did not show it. "Welcome to the Council, masked ones. I am certain you will find this event quite uplifting indeed; the words of the Prophet certainly are."


The Council Begins

The strained notes of the crumbling Call dimly reverberated throughout the city. Nearby citizens paused in their routine, bowing their heads until the last echo of the melody faded.

From the northern entrance to the plaza emerged a second group of Zaindariak in full armor surrounding a single Apaiza. She wore a deep red robe with a blue band about the waist and tall blue boots which vanished beneath the hem of her robe. About her forehead and neck were set a silver circlet and necklace, each set with an emerald, and in her left hand she bore a long wooden scepter.

The Zaindariak fanned out about the edges of the plaza as the Apaiza mounted the wooden platform and handed her scepter to Apaiza Ellande. She held up one hand for silence and spoke.

"Welcome, travelers from afar. I am pleased that you have all come here today. I am the Apaiza Nagusia of the Orden Santua; you may call me Apaiza Degun.

All of us are aware, surely, that one century ago the Empire of the Old Godchosen crumbled in a few terrible days, before the Swarm which destroyed it was defeated by the song of the Call. In the years since, we have been protected by that Call, but, as one can clearly hear, it is now fading. And as it wanes, the threats to our collective existence wax greater. I am told a herald of some unnatural kind appeared here moments ago and demanded submission from you. And that threat is not the greatest. The Swarm grows ever stronger, and our mountain fortresses are beset.

It is in this hour of dark clouds before the breaking of the storm that I have called you here; for foresighted ones may avert disaster, if they act in concert. So far I believe I have said nothing which you do not already know well. Allow me, then, to recount history which most of you are less likely to have heard before."

She cast a significant look at the Tximeleta, then glanced about to meet the eyes of the old man she assumed was the Mariscal.

"On Infestation Day my people lived in this valley, one of the richest in all Kaal. In the first hour of the Swarm's emergence they were overwhelmed and slain en masse; perhaps a tenth part of the people escaped into the mountains where they could hope to stave off the enemy perhaps a bit longer. Among them was a woman, separated from her neighbors and family, who climbed alone to the highest peak, her tears melting a path in the snow before her.

On that peak the Chorus who sang the Call spoke to her and gave to her a holy message. 'The Old Godchosen are gone. You and your sons and daughters shall be the new Chosen. Hold to our tenets, and your destiny will find you in time.'"

She paused and scanned the assembled dignitaries.

"This woman was Latona Gun, our prophet. Under her leadership we reclaimed this valley; with her tenets we rebuilt our homes. And on her deathbed, she blessed not only us, but all those who followed in her footsteps, as her children and inheritors of her destiny. We are Aukeratutako Berria, the New Godchosen; but not only us. The Tximeleta also can tell you of the strength of our shared destiny, as can the Illopañans, I believe.

Now the Call begins to fade, and dangers old and new are rising. You can face them alone, in an uncertain world, with few allies and no hope for the future. Or you can accept the Prophet and the Faith and earn for yourself and your people a great destiny. Together we shall face the coming crisis and flourish into years beyond counting or imagination."

[Ivor_The_Mad]

A Horrible Offense

It was clear to the Kupua that the rats were not getting their point. Now it was time for extreme measures. They had tried to be well behaved but now was not a time for that. as far as the Kupua were concerned, the rats had started it. Now the Kupuas showed their true colors. The Kupua let out an ear-piercing chant "KAPUA I KAUA !! NO KA LUNA !! ʻAʻOHE ALOHA !! E LOAʻA IĀ LĀKOU!!!" At this every Kupua in the plaza came running. They formed a ring around the rats and drew their weapons. Though fairly crude in construction, mostly spears, obsidian blades, and knives, the weapons glowed with a faint red light. The Kupuas Masks reflected their anger, whether the masks had changed or the situation gave the illusion that they had changed who knows. What is certain is that there were a lot of them and they were angry. Tapu stepped forward towards the rats, spear in one hand, dagger in the other. He pointed the spear at the rats then gestured for them to put the boat down, then he took the dagger and made a slicing motion across his neck making it very clear to the rats that they had two options. "Tukua a maatau taonga ka mate ranei ki te mate mamae"

Ashu, too old to fight, went to go watch the proceedings. She didn't really understand why this was important but she decided that she might as well see what it was all about.

[Ausar]

Counsel the Council

By this time Sirs Adhelon & Roberay had dismounted, the three griffons flying long & slow circles about the plaza while their riders stood at council. As Apaiza Degun scanned the crowd Courtenay stroked his stubbled chin and muttered to his companions, "unappealing options, Sirs, wouldn't you say?" Adhelon nodded slightly.
"A charade, High Chaplain. I sense much mistrust on account of our faith, and our origins." Roberay nodded too.
"We will find no friends here. Uhlonna has no children in this land."
Courtenay sighed. "Well she won't gain any from silence. Keep your weapons close, we may yet have need of them, especially if that boat brawl breaks out in earnest." Clasping his hands in prayer he stepped forth a few feet, affixing a welcoming smile.
"My fellow dignitaries. Monarchs-" he bowed low "-long may you reign, and our honoured hosts-" he bowed once more, this time directed towards Apaiza Degun, "on behalf of my Order I would speak. While we are newcomers to these lands, and strangers to your rich history we too have tales of this 'Swarm's' arrival, and its destruction. Our singers spin tales of the miracle of music that mauled the mighty menace and drove it back down into the earth. Our priests preach of Uhlonna's sacrifice, the making of earth and ocean and the end of the endless sky. I do not know the tales of your folk, of your own descents from the sky, but I do know that it was not some ancient people that saved us, nor I would wager saved you; it was the gods. The voices of the gods that drove the 'Swarm' below may be quieting but this is no fault of theirs." Courtenay paused, making his own survey of the assembled dignitaries.

"No, this is our fault, dear folk. Ours. The reverence of the gods is fading, and the Call fades with it. We must unite, yes, but it is not behind one people but each people together, behind their own faith. Voices must rise to join the music that fills the air, in prayer, in worship, devoted. And when our voices rise as one, our gods will rise with us. My people, the Order, we are diminished. The Swarm drove us away from our homes deep beneath the earth a decade ago, and few survived to found our new homeland. Our voices alone are not enough to beseech Uhlonna to stir and join the Call, but in time this will change. With time our priests will roam, our people shall rebuild and prosper, and Uhlonna will wake. All that can be asked, of any, and must be asked of all, is to do the same; grow your flock, bring your people together to call your gods from their desperate silence and make the Call fill the air with joy once more. Thank you."

He stepped back between the knights. "Righteous buggers, aren't they?" he muttered to the pair.

[Potato_Priest]

Arturo del Sanz sat by the Mariscal at the council, still staring at the sketch in his locket. The old man weakly grabbed his arm. His coughing had stopped, and his voice was quiet and rasping.

"Pay attention! I want you to address these dwarves."

Begrudgingly putting away his sketch of Isabella, Arturo spoke up once the dwarves had finished. The Mariscal watched intently as the young Preguntador spoke with youthful enthusiasm and naivete.

"Perhaps there is some mistake, Sir. I judge from your tone you mean to rebuke us, but in fact the followers of the prophet agree that it is lack of reverence for the Chorus and the prophet that has weakened the call: in fact, the entire reason the Redención exists is to safeguard our people against the corruption that will invite the swarm back, and the people of every village in La Illopaña add their voices to the strength of the call every day.

I am sure when the Apazia speaks of the 'new godchosen' she merely means to refer to us as the new stewards of the world, not that we should literally emulate the failings of the old empire. I don't know much about Uhlonna, but perhaps our beliefs are not so different after all."

[Ausar]

Courtenay turned towards Arturo, stepping forth and inclining his head to the Preguntador and Mariscal. "Your words have some merit, good fellow, although I am no knight. I am sure any belief will share some precepts with others, and from what the messenger that came to our Cathedral expressed we do indeed share an approval of compassion, of charity. Always must we care for our fellows. But the burning of the dead... it is an evil, young fellow. An evil. To deny Uhlonna's shield, our fine earth, another brick, to deny sustenance to Uhlonna's images, to incinerate the soul that ought to fly free in the endless sky... I confess I have prayed for the poor folk of Harana de Profeta every wing-beat of our journey here. You say my words had the tone of a rebuke? Aye, young fellow, a rebuke. But an admonishment, further, an admission of despair. Despair that any god has fallen so low as to entrust cremators with destiny." He turned to the plaza at large, spreading his arms wide. "You think the world needs your stewardship! That the peoples of the holy shield desire your protection! That your 'Chorus' is the only divine that voices should rouse from silence! But you cripple your gods with every incinerated soul!" He linked his hands once more in prayer. "May your Chorus remonstrate your priests that they may live, if they have the strength left to do so."

[Minescratcher]

The first time Courtenay addressed the crowd, the Apaiza Nagusia had moved to answer his complaints, but Arturo had gotten in first. She nodded in approval as he spoke, though at the mention of the old Empire's "failings" she seemed momentarily confused.

The second time the dwarf spoke, she simply turned her back to him and nodded to the lieutenant of the Zaindariak, a tall, burly man with a broad mustache, a broader chest, and a silver star on his shield. He barked an order in the Jenauak language, and five Zaindariak advanced slowly on the dwarves.

"There is neither desire nor need for your misguided beliefs here, dwarf," he grunted. "Either renounce your condemnation of the Prophet's holy words, or call your winged beasts and depart." He conspicuously laid his hand on the scabbard of his talwar.

"The Chaplain speaks of a soul which flies free in the sky," said the Apaiza Nagusia, turning back to face the dignitaries again. "Though the soul is bound up with the flesh, something so physically insubstantial as to fly forever would not be harmed by the passing flames, would it? No, rather the flames would scour the flesh and release the soul to its home. The fire harms the soul no more than it harms the air one breathes. You may pray for us, Chaplain, but I pray for all those of your people who lie trapped in their corpses, forced to suffer eternal agony as they rot to dust and are reduced at the last to utter madness and insanity. Will you not repent of your failings? One cannot hold another responsible for that which was not known."

[Ausar]

Courtenay nodded to his fellows and they clapped their hands to their chests, once, twice, and the griffons up-to-now soaring about the plaza broke off and dived down, stopping feet from the ground, the wind from their wings buffeting all near. As the trio swung up onto their mounts Courtenay took a last look about and smiled. "Rot? Nay, to condemn a corpse to rot is to inflict as great a pain as to burn away. The soul is contained in the body by virtue of the heart. To release the soul, the heart must be rent asunder. Burning is no reprieve, for the heart disappears whole. No, release must come in tandem with survival. The most honourable departure-" He lent down to stroke his griffon's neck, guiding it skyward with his knees, "-feeds the noblest of creatures."

He straightened, formal once more. "Gods save you, Apaiza, if it is right that they should do so." And with that, the trio soared off, each making the sign of the arrows as they did, leaving the heinous unbelievers and their ignorant audience behind.

[Rolepgeek]

As the representatives of the Thee Courts watched this exchange, the armored one leaned in to mutter something to the Najaabaa in the oddly lilting language of the maskfolk.

"<I don't understand how these are incompatible doctrines - can't you burn a body even after cutting the heart open?>" “<Yes but it wouldn't do to mention that, I think, judging by how the challenge was received. We should not tarry overlong here.>"

The Prince gave a firm nod at that, and one hand drifted to rest on the pommel of their sword. The Everlasting Monarch said nothing - their gaze rested equally on all and none. Hiiheyeinaukhut, however, stepped forward to make a challenge of their own, however soft it may be by comparison.

“Your words are finely said, and carry the weight of truth about them, Apaiza Degun. But so too are they vague, promising everything and nothing, as all prophecies and visions of the future must. What is this great destiny? How are we to know that in becoming the new Godchosen we will not meet in some decades hence with the same fate as that of the old? The peoples of the Masked Coast have weathered many storms in our time, and know well the value of cooperation. But storms cannot be defeated - only prepared for, and survived. What say you to these, to a peoples who have always found fate better named as doom, and prophets to bear naught but ill omen, if your prophet could not, or would not, speak of the nature of that destiny?"

[Minescratcher]

The Council Continues


Courtenay nodded to his fellows and they clapped their hands to their chests, once, twice, and the griffons up-to-now soaring about the plaza broke off and dived down, stopping feet from the ground, the wind from their wings buffeting all near. As the trio swung up onto their mounts Courtenay took a last look about and smiled. "Rot? Nay, to condemn a corpse to rot is to inflict as great a pain as to burn away. The soul is contained in the body by virtue of the heart. To release the soul, the heart must be rent asunder. Burning is no reprieve, for the heart disappears whole. No, release must come in tandem with survival. The most honourable departure-" He lent down to stroke his griffon's neck, guiding it skyward with his knees, "-feeds the noblest of creatures."

He straightened, formal once more. "Gods save you, Apaiza, if it is right that they should do so." And with that, the trio soared off, each making the sign of the arrows as they did, leaving the heinous unbelievers and their ignorant audience behind.

The Apaiza Nagusia's initial reaction of utter disgust was quickly replaced by a serene mask once more, but the sharp-eyed observer would have the unmistakable impression she was about to vomit. "Let all hear the words of the dwarf and mark them well, for the next time they are spoken I fear it will not be so peaceful. Should any of you desire to have your heart rent asunder and your body fed to a beast, perhaps after your death, perhaps not - travel north."


As the representatives of the Thee Courts watched this exchange, the armored one leaned in to mutter something to the Najaabaa in the oddly lilting language of the maskfolk.

"<I don't understand how these are incompatible doctrines - can't you burn a body even after cutting the heart open?>" “<Yes but it wouldn't do to mention that, I think, judging by how the challenge was received. We should not tarry overlong here.>"

The Prince gave a firm nod at that, and one hand drifted to rest on the pommel of their sword. The Everlasting Monarch said nothing - their gaze rested equally on all and none. Hiiheyeinaukhut, however, stepped forward to make a challenge of their own, however soft it may be by comparison.

“Your words are finely said, and carry the weight of truth about them, Apaiza Degun. But so too are they vague, promising everything and nothing, as all prophecies and visions of the future must. What is this great destiny? How are we to know that in becoming the new Godchosen we will not meet in some decades hence with the same fate as that of the old? The peoples of the Masked Coast have weathered many storms in our time, and know well the value of cooperation. But storms cannot be defeated - only prepared for, and survived. What say you to these, to a peoples who have always found fate better named as doom, and prophets to bear naught but ill omen, if your prophet could not, or would not, speak of the nature of that destiny?"

"It is a true mark of the darkness of these times that I cannot fault you for your despair," replied the Apaiza Nagusia. "But the Prophet's words are clearer than you credit. The Empire of the Old Godchosen had peace, had security, had prosperity and power. Its fall was not accident or coincidence; they turned away from the divine Chorus, and the Chorus withdrew their favor and their blessing. We have been given a second chance to attain those heights, so long as we keep the Faith."

[OmnivorousOgre]

Knives out!
The Dara-un halted at the terrible cry of the Kupua, and haplessly watched as they got surrounded. Perhaps Ereb-an was mistaken. Perhaps it was time to negotiate. Perhaps he would’ve thought these things had he been given the time for that. But one of his uncles did not take kindly to Tapu’s threat and drew his dagger. For his trouble, he received a spearpoint to the throat. And thus, the chaos truly kicked off.

Knives, saps and slings in hand the ratmen began their attempt at staving off the Kupua attack. It was a desperate attempt to survive, but while the ship provided some cover the situation grew more hopeless by the second. Panicked, a gash from a Kupua dagger on his left cheek, Ereb-an climbed to the prow. “Ten marks for every rat who fights off the devils!” he cried at the top of his lungs.

For a brief moment, his call for aid seemed to do naught but echo in the empty alleys of the city. That proved incorrect when a crossbow bolt struck a Kupua in the head. Suddenly dozens of Dara-un swarmed to the street from all directions. While Tapu’s forces were the better combatants, they couldn’t overcome the advantage in numbers that the ratfolk had. After exchanging blows for some time longer the Kupua retreated in as orderly a fashion as they managed. They left behind half a dozen fallen comrades, while the ratmen had lost double that.

With the Kupua on the retreat and the streets cleared of civilians due to the skirmish, Ereb-an saw fit to make a break for it. Clutching his prize tight he ran for the city gate. Several others accompanied him, but most of his impromptu mercenaries disappeared back to the alleyways of Bataherria. Perhaps they sensed this was not the best time to demand their payment.

Raba-yan at the Council
So much for making any deals with the dwarves, they had left before Raba-yan had even introduced himself. He felt that a greater conflict than just some bickering could be on the horizon. Not that that was strictly a bad thing. War could be profitable if one knew what they were doing.

He was not a pious rat, but there was one point in the argument that piqued his interest. How would these people regard the Dara-un habit of eating their dead? However, in this atmosphere he was neither interested or stupid enough to ask the question out loud. It was a practice born out of necessity rather than any beliefs anyway. If it would prove necessary to get rid of, he’d just buy the food stores of these people empty.


"It is a true mark of the darkness of these times that I cannot fault you for your despair," replied the Apaiza Nagusia. "But the Prophet's words are clearer than you credit. The Empire of the Old Godchosen had peace, had security, had prosperity and power. Its fall was not accident or coincidence; they turned away from the divine Chorus, and the Chorus withdrew their favor and their blessing. We have been given a second chance to attain those heights, so long as we keep the Faith."
This marked the first time in the Council Raba-yan felt compelled to speak. “The Empire had these things, it’s true. But some of its subjects sure didn’t. Is that something that ought to be repeated too, or will all those following the Prophet have security, prosperity and power?”

[Minescratcher]

Aw, Rats


Knives out!
The Dara-un halted at the terrible cry of the Kupua, and haplessly watched as they got surrounded. Perhaps Ereb-an was mistaken. Perhaps it was time to negotiate. Perhaps he would’ve thought these things had he been given the time for that. But one of his uncles did not take kindly to Tapu’s threat and drew his dagger. For his trouble, he received a spearpoint to the throat. And thus, the chaos truly kicked off.

Knives, saps and slings in hand the ratmen began their attempt at staving off the Kupua attack. It was a desperate attempt to survive, but while the ship provided some cover the situation grew more hopeless by the second. Panicked, a gash from a Kupua dagger on his left cheek, Ereb-an climbed to the prow. “Ten marks for every rat who fights off the devils!” he cried at the top of his lungs.

For a brief moment, his call for aid seemed to do naught but echo in the empty alleys of the city. That proved incorrect when a crossbow bolt struck a Kupua in the head. Suddenly dozens of Dara-un swarmed to the street from all directions. While Tapu’s forces were the better combatants, they couldn’t overcome the advantage in numbers that the ratfolk had. After exchanging blows for some time longer the Kupua retreated in as orderly a fashion as they managed. They left behind half a dozen fallen comrades, while the ratmen had lost double that.

With the Kupua on the retreat and the streets cleared of civilians due to the skirmish, Ereb-an saw fit to make a break for it. Clutching his prize tight he ran for the city gate. Several others accompanied him, but most of his impromptu mercenaries disappeared back to the alleyways of Bataherria. Perhaps they sensed this was not the best time to demand their payment.

The Zaindariak arrived just minutes too late to stop the fight or any of the fleeing combatants, but still in time to round up a few remaining rats and haul them off for questioning. The bodies were dragged out of the city and thrown into a ditch that ran alongside the main road. Some of the guards suggested burning them, considering the reputation of the Dara-un, but no one wanted to risk getting close enough to set a fire or the chance that burning the Kupua might be even more dangerous, so they returned to the city, airing ideas for what crimes the boat-thief would have listed under his poster. "Theft, of course, gate-breaking, rioting, plague-spreading..."



Raba-yan at the Council
So much for making any deals with the dwarves, they had left before Raba-yan had even introduced himself. He felt that a greater conflict than just some bickering could be on the horizon. Not that that was strictly a bad thing. War could be profitable if one knew what they were doing.

He was not a pious rat, but there was one point in the argument that piqued his interest. How would these people regard the Dara-un habit of eating their dead? However, in this atmosphere he was neither interested or stupid enough to ask the question out loud. It was a practice born out of necessity rather than any beliefs anyway. If it would prove necessary to get rid of, he’d just buy the food stores of these people empty.


This marked the first time in the Council Raba-yan felt compelled to speak. “The Empire had these things, it’s true. But some of its subjects sure didn’t. Is that something that ought to be repeated too, or will all those following the Prophet have security, prosperity and power?”

"The Prophet's words apply equally to all her followers," answered the Apaiza Nagusia. "No follower of hers will be subjugated to another."

[Ivor_The_Mad]

Ashu was quite disappointed by the outcome of the fight though she did gain something out of it. Information. She knew that she must consult the idols so that she could better understand how they should proceed. The outsiders, just like they were warned, were dangerous. The loss of the boat was unfortunate. It had been passed down many generations but he feared something like this would happen. This is why the Kupua kept to themselves. While not the other's fault, this event reflected poorly of all the outsiders in Ashu's mind. She stood and gathered Tapu and the remaining Kupua along with their fallen and turned to leave.

[OmnivorousOgre]

After the Council had concluded Raba-yan collected his delegation to depart the city. Some of them had gotten rid of their trinkets, while others had acquired more. Those who had been taken in for questioning, however, were on their own. Raba-yan would not get entangled with whatever mess had taken place, which he still didn't know the full details of. There was little reason to as so far the event had not seriously endangered his own business interests.

Soon after leaving Bataherria behind the mischief comes upon the bodies of their comrades. "For all their friendly talk, this makes it pretty clear how they truly feel about us", Raba-yan thought. "Guess Dara-un souls are not worth being freed." He sighed, and instructed those closest to him: "Take them with us. At least we won't go hungry on the way home."