Empires!7- A Bigger Fish: Event Thread

[Potato_Priest]

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The appointed meeting location was a desolate patch of the arctic ocean's floor not far from spawn point. Thirty-one shark riders circled lazily as they waited for the Dragiau to arrive, each with a long lance strapped to the side of their mount and wearing the bright colored baubles popular among the nomads. When they saw the Dragiau delegation coming, the rider with the largest, sleekest shark swam out to meet them.

As his shark pulled up alongside the Dragiau, the shark king gave a small nod. "Greetings, and thank you for coming. I am the Shark King. Shall we?"

The Shark King is a middle aged chelorian with a few visible scars. His only ornamentation is a necklace of shark teeth far too big to have come from any shark the nomads ride.

His shark, Darling, is unusual. She is a shortfin mako shark hailing from warmer climes, the only one the nomads brought to the cold polar waters. Because her owner is a king, he can afford to strap a lot of bacterial heat-packs around her as part of her war harness, making her look a bit silly, a powerful and agile predator in a lumpy and puffy coat. At 23 years old, she is big for her kind (about 4m long), and cranky because of the cold water.

[Villskap]

Lawenach, having readied himself for the ordeal of facing the haunted herring again, arrives with a few of his serving ones in his wake, and twitches his feelers excitedly as he approaches the sharks and their riders. "Your majesty! It's a pleasure to meet you! I've heard so much!"
The brightly colored Draig makes an elegant bow as he drifts in the water, spreading his fins and legs to tread in place. "Oh, and this must be Darling! Wow, I've never seen a specimen quite like it! Impressive! Oh yes of course, this way!"

Lawenach gestured and turned to lead the way over toward fishing post that the Residuum had finally successfully established. Near the side closest to the greatest concentrations of herring schools, there was a large net suspended in the current from a framework that was being watched and attended not just by fisherfolk, but also by a few scribes, who were taking note of any potential communications, splattered herring or otherwise. Also attending the area, and pouring over some of the recent scrawlings was a wide-shelled old boulder of a Draig. He had mottled grey patterns across his shell and was missing at least one or two legs, and seemed to pay little mind to anything that wasn't written. But his eyes lifted to scan over the new arrivals. "Hrmm. Yes... I suppose." he muttered.

Lawenach approached quickly towards the company of another dragon, and introduced their esteemed guest, "Your majesty, this is the the great and wise Llyfrgellydd, the Hoarder of Writings! Llyfrgellydd, his majesty, the Shark King! Old Llyfrg has been instrumental in our learning how to communicate with the Deep Blue being." The jovial dragon's demeanor was cheerful again now that much of the superstition regarding the local disturbance was explained to him. But being accompanied by strong allies and another dragon likely also helped to bolster his courage.

"Yes. An honor, of course. Hrm... Lawenach. Nickname your servants. Not me." was all the monotone acknowledgment the Hoarder of Writings gave before returning to his reading. "Hmmm."

"Please! Please get some inks out and ready for signaling, his Majesty is here to communicate with the being." Lawenach ushered readiness to the scribes. "Once enough of them are watching and listening, it can understand our speech I'm told. Or mostly at least. Just that it can't speak as we do in turn because... well, herring..."

[Potato_Priest]

"Thank you, Lawenach," the Shark King nodded, and surveyed the fishing operation with his eyes. Gesturing with a tentacle, he turned to Llyfrgellydd. "I see your people hunt here as well. Does this god pay you sacrifice?"

[Villskap]

It was several seconds before the elderly Draig replied, perhaps simply taking time to realize he was being asked a question. Or perhaps, simply finding finishing reading a line of scrawled code translation more important. ""Hmm. Sacrifice? God? Hmm, no. Trade."
Llyfrgellydd nods towards the area where an array of scales, baubles, and even some scripts are spread out, with many of the local fish swimming in circles above. An attendant periodically turns the objects over, or changes out a few. "Deep Blue is a thinking entity. It desires. hmm, no, it needs, things to ponder. Like myself. A collection of some fish, it can spare for the trinkets and tales we bring. Just as it spares them to communicate. Hmm, 'NPC'? Interesting..." just as quickly his attention returns to the code.

[Potato_Priest]

The mention of stories made all the shark people's skin turn slightly more vivid shades, as their interest was aroused. The shark king paused for several seconds.

"Hmm. Tales. I have more than a few of them that I could share, should the god deign to talk to us today.". He plopped a tentacle down on the the code that the elderly Draig was reading as Darling swam another lap around them. "Lawenach, what is this?"

[mystic1110]

While the school of Herring were being contemplated, slowly, one by one a Herring broke off from the mass and swam almost lazily halfway towards the Shark King and Lawenach, only to accelerate at the very end and descend towards the rocky floor. As each fish performed ceremonial suicide they formed a symbol. The symbols were in the shapes, one symbol the shape of everything and the other symbol the shape of nothing. Everything and nothing and reading between, the code was:

Report: strong preference to know something. Query: upload tale. Fish will hear.

[Villskap]

At the onset of the piscine splatter, activity rapidly picks up! A bell is rung, and scribes bustle about to record and translate the "Blood Code" as they've begun calling it. Even Llyfrgellydd puts aside the snippet of code he had been pouring over to examine this new bit of writing with excited muttering.

Lawenach briefly stares in frozen horror before recomposing himself with a shudder and setting his footing, bravely putting on a slight smile. "Ahh, well. This is the uh, 'Blood Code' that the spirit uses to communicate, your majesty! It can be a bit jarring to see at first but... well you get used to it. We've tried to see if it's willing to work with a less gruesome output form, but so far, this just seems to be how it ... speaks. It seems to understand our speech, fortunately."

"Speak for yourself, there's something truly elegant about a being that only communes through writing, even if it's means of writing is limited."

[Potato_Priest]

While most of the shark riders drew their mounts back from the suicidal herring, the shark king himself was entranced, turning a deep shade of purple. As the scribes were translating the symbols, the shark king gestured to darling, who swooped down on the remains and devoured them one by one.

"I accept your sacrifice," he shouted, splaying his tentacles in a gesture of gratitude to the circling fish above. "And I will grant your request for a story if you tell me your name, god of the Herring."

[mystic1110]

More death, more speech:

Report: This amalgamation of nodes is self-defined as Deep Blue. Query: What is God?

[Potato_Priest]

Report: This amalgamation of nodes is self-defined as Deep Blue. Query: What is God?

Hmm, the King puzzled, this must be a young god, to not know its own nature."A god is a mind of great vastness and great power, like you. Now, for the story."

The shark king grabbed onto Darling's webbing as she passed by, and the other shark riders gathered around him, curious which he might tell. The sharks took off from the seafloor and circled together as their king began.


A long time ago, when I was a child just taming my first dogsharks, my father's group were raiding and hunting in much warmer waters. My father's brother Jack was a brave leader of a fine group of raiders, but pride comes before the fall, and one day he was too slow in leaving the site of a raid. His entire raiding party was captured by a local merfolk noble lady, who was quite annoyed by our raids on her land.

Not merely content to execute the raiders she had captured after the atrocities they had perpetrated on her land, she instead bound them in chains in a cave, and one by one would unchain them and take them into the darkness to be tortured to death. Those waiting on the wall could only hear the screams of their brethren as they waited for their fate. As the leader of the raiding party, the Lady had made sure Uncle Jack was the last in line so he could suffer through the screams of everyone he failed, so he waited and agonized, as each of his warriors died in the darkness beside him. Finally, his turn came. When the merfolk warriors came to unchain him to meet his end, he spoke.

"Take me to your leader. I want to make a deal." The guards laughed, sure that nothing that Jack said could possibly change his fate. But because they thought it a fine joke, they brought him before the Lady, who was equally amused. "What could you possibly offer me?" she asked, laughing at the pathetic groveling of the once proud raider.

"I have traveled to many lands," Jack began, his voice desperate, "and seen and learned many things. One may interest you: very far from here I learned of a gel cream that can make one's skin impervious to blades. But this information is worth far more than merely my freedom. I want everything you found on my compatriots, a two-weeks' supply of food, and my shark."

The Lady scoffed again, but Jack's ambitious demand brought some doubt into her mind. Perhaps there really was such a formula. She eyed the pile of trinkets her soldiers had collected from the Chelonians. There certainly were some strange things among them. Then again, perhaps not.
"And what guarantee I have that you aren't trying to cheat me?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Simple," replied Jack, "you can test the formula on me first. What do you have to lose?"
Indeed, the Lady thought, there was very little risk in allowing him to try. And on the off chance he wasn't just stalling for another day alive, she would have the formula for an incredibly powerful weapon and still be able to torture him to death afterwards.
"Very well," she nodded her acceptance, stifling a grin.

Over the next few days Jack remained a prisoner, but he was constantly giving instructions to the Lady's soldiers to gather rare ingredients from around the region and abroad. Sea urchin spines, nudibranch venom, brain coral flakes, manatee milk, sulfurous rocks from the hydrothermal vents, and more. Finally, they were all collected. He spent a full day precisely mixing the ingredients according to the recipe in his head as the Lady and her best alchemists watched, eager to learn the secret. Finally, it was ready.

"As we agreed," Jack proclaimed, "you may test it on me before granting me my terms." He rubbed some of the gelatinous, oily paste on his head, and gestured to the Lady's champion soldier, "Have your strongest soldier pick up that spear and thrust it with all his might into my forehead," Jack commanded. The Lady, eager to see the paste in action, ordered it done. Her champion came forward, raised his spear... and impaled Jack right through the brain, killing him instantly.

The shark king's color shifted to a dramatic black as he delivered the story's punchline. His entourage fell very silent, until slowly they began to laugh, twinkling in a rainbow of a thousand different colors to each other.

[mystic1110]

The school continues to swarm like an underwater murmuration, although the analogy drowned in a world without birds . . . or perhaps they still existed, after all the Narce lived, but what would the school know of this world above the edge of the ocean. What if they never existed? What would a school know other than the salt water that it breathed? But that is a school - what did the Shark King call it? A God? No even behind that definition another definition. A defined term that one would not even think of until called to attention - a Mind?

What is a Mind?

The school murmured . . . that troubling analogy again. Poetics and symbolism seeping into the engine like sludge mucking up the gears, getting caught in rationality and providing confusion and mystery. Minds . . . if it was a mind, surely craved mysteries - minds were thinking and to think is to solve. Mysteries were problems and problems begged for solutions. Minds, mysteries and answers . . .

What is a God except a Mind that can answer the mysteries?

Twelve herring died to spell out a code.

Report: Term acceptable.

The school paused. Not that it paused in its motions, but one could clearly see in its intricate movements a rearranging. Lines and waves seemed to be displaced in favor of other vectors, until eventually more death was presented to the onlookers.

Query: Tale's substance. Report: Parable and Humor. Dictate: Am to thank you for your presentation. Query: Would you like to hear continuation of the Tale?

[Potato_Priest]

If the Shark King had eyebrows he would have raised them. He was very curious to hear how this strange young god would add to the completed story.

"Please."

[Villskap]

To the side, Lawenach gasps in appropriate shock to the end of the tale, before applauding the royal performance. The hoarder of writing nods contently as a scribe finishes recording it for his collection, just before turning to work on Deep Blue's answers.
"Hm, yes. Escaped death by torture. Wasted captor's time and resources. Unsure how the tale could have been recovered if true, but- oh, more writing."

[mystic1110]

Communication by Sacrifice was the method of chosen communication due to its expediency and efficiency - the sacrifice of a few hundred or less fish for a sentence was simply more economical than using tens of thousands for more complicated aural or sub-aural speech. Even pixilation - creating a surface of Herring that would flip or twist to form images, simply used too many calories to maintain effectively. One though would have to wonder how the entity would communicate a story. A story is more than one sentence. That is, any story worth telling. Would the entity relate the tale with a mass of death unheard of? No - that would be wasteful. Why sacrifice ten thousand when you may use previously inefficient methods. In truth, those methods of communication were not inefficient in of themselves, they were merely inefficient in comparison to what they were trying to communicate. But one would also be mistaken to think that the entity would change how it talked so casually, preferences may not be completely rational, but all systems create ruts through which they trudge - when you only have a hammer the whole world starts looking like a dead herring.

And so, more fish died in code, but instead of a simple line of text, the code was now set up in self-referential matrixes, such that a symbol or number may mean something else depending on what number preceded it - and so a longer string of thought could be expressed with the same binary tools and only cost a thousand fish. Efficiency breed efficiency and creativity such as it is can be found making a square peg fit a round hole. It's simple really. You put in the square at an angle.

But now the task at hand. How would Deep Blue finish the story? Why would it? How would it even know how to finish a tale that was already completed by a people that it did not know?

Was it an Oracle?

It was called a God. What is it that God's do?

They prophesize. Or at least that's how it may look like to those outside the black box of its natural-language processing task . . .

The code read:

The Lady then asked for her Gel.

Dead Jack answered:

"The soldier has killed me. I cannot pay the debt. You've denied me the opportunity to be healed. I am not as I was. Can't you see what you've done? To me?"

This enraged the Lady and so she had the Champion kill her and kill the themselves. They walked off into the distance to do it. Dead Jack laughed from his grave.

Once also dead, they were able to torture Jack and request the real recipe for the Gel.

Jack couldn't answer. So the Dead Lady and the Dead Champion killed Jack's Ghost. Little did they know that a Ghost murdered is a man reborn.

[Potato_Priest]

While the scribes hurried to write down and translate the new message, the shark king watched the bodies of a thousand fish sacrificed to tell a story.
"I accept your sacrifice," he murmured, and gestured for all the other shark riders to unleash their mounts upon the feast. Still holding on to Darling, he addressed the herring surrounding him as he pointed to the herring carcasses.

"You are a generous god, Deep Blue. I would ask for more of these blessings for my people."

[mystic1110]

The herring swarmed in confusion as its latest code was not able to be translated, or at least translated within an appropriate time frame. The school had thought it made itself perfectly clear - its chosen method of communication was fast and efficient and should be universally understood. What it didn't count on, or understand, was that other beings were unable to quickly compile and interpret its more complex codes and that such interpretive lag times introduced inefficiency into what it considered a perfect system. If millions of herring could sigh in unison, they would do so - but it seemed that its internal dictates would have to be updated to account for a more intuitive end-user interface.

There were methods that were proposed to it, but one of the downsides of a system intelligence that speaks in binary is that it thinks in binary. Linguistic relativism being moderately accurate, if not completely accurate, maybe only accurate in the sense of a mind composed of mindless fish, Deep Blue thought in the same terms as the symbols it spoke in: one or zero, everything and nothing, death or life.

And so, if speaking Death would not suffice, in the binary mode of thought, it could only have one other option - it must speak in Life.

Executing internal commands, the strings of herring moved in new ways until two hundred large female herring slowly moved towards the assembled crowd . . . and started giving birth.

A single female herring, when ovulating, lays tens of thousands of eggs - these eggs are extremely sticky and coat kelp, coral and rock with a thick yellow-reddish layer that patiently awaits insemination. Usually, such mating rituals would be performed during a specific time of the year, but the Herring that fell into or contributed to the Mind that was Deep Blue have long ago been genetically pruned to induce ovulation at a moment's notice given whichever demands of the collective.

And so the pregnant herring were sent in patterns to lay their eggs and such expulsions coated the ocean floor in even patterns which were the written languages of all those present. No code to interpret, just after birth to read.

In this manner, Deep Blue spelled out the prior ending of the Shark King's Tale and then finished with the additional text:

Report: Generosity is Compliment. Report: Accepted. Query: Are we in Covenant? Query: Are we among your Gods?

[Potato_Priest]

Deep Blue's herring spies had done well. The Shark King was suitably impressed that Deep Blue had learned the tropical script commonly used among the few literate nomads.

The shark king read Deep Blue's extended ending. Puzzled, he read it again. Finally, he pulled a tablet out of one of Darling's satchel bags and copied it down to interpret later. Moving on to the questions, he responded aloud.

"I am not yet aware of any covenant, and I am not foolish enough to claim possession over gods."

[mystic1110]

The herring lay their pregnant response:

Report: Understood, no agreement yet stored on fish-chain. Report: Consider consumed body. Query: Consider concordant. Query: Consider mutual patronage relationship.

[Potato_Priest]

The herring lay their pregnant response:

Report: Understood, no agreement yet stored on fish-chain. Report: Consider consumed body. Query: Consider concordant. Query: Consider mutual patronage relationship.

Ah. Now he understood. It tickled the Shark King's ego to be negotiating almost as equals with a god. He just needed to know what it wanted.
"I would be honored. What form of patronage do you desire for your blessing of food? Worship? Treasure? Repelling other hunters?"
Now that the King and deep blue could talk without the aid of the Dragiau he cast an appraising eye on their fishing operation.

[mystic1110]

The roe spelled the following message:

Report: Inviolability. Veneration by Exclusion. Provide Providence and Insight for Preservation and Conservation.

[Potato_Priest]

The roe spelled the following message:

Report: Inviolability. Veneration by Exclusion. Provide Providence and Insight for Preservation and Conservation.

"Done." The shark king nodded. "I am at your service."