Mousta slipped through the waters as silent as Hourlaw himself was said to have passed the Styx, and avoided waking the tollman.
She spotted the strange little being first-a duck in the shape of a man, fishing with his nimble webbed hands along the riverbank-who let out a comical squawk, and paddled rapidly away. She followed him, intrigued. Other warriors might have hucked a spear at first glance-indeed, her youngest son sitting beside her was rising to do just that when she gave him a warning glance. He sat back down. Mousta had long learned patience...and, when she looked upon the small 'tula' the little duckman arrived in, filled with similar beings, she knew her patience had been rewarded.
It was a fertile land-no cattle she could see, but delicious crops grew in great swaths, like they had fallen from the sky as snow. But, no cattle! Perhaps they hid their herds well. Small, rounded houses made of sticks and mud it looked like. No towers or walls-little stone at all, but she didn't know if this was the main area of the village. She saw few patrols, though had no doubt they had warriors among them. With a lack of what they called themselves, many of the keener eyed scouts noted the ducks had runes written on their bills. Hence, that became their name ever after.
Maybe they would be tested, soon enough. She crept silently back up the river with the rest of the party, to inform the clan of her finding.
...
"We should demand tribute. 40 bushels a year!" Mousta boomed, knocking back a mug of ale. In truth, she'd be happy with either-they submit, or they fight. Same to her, really. Those ducks certainly could afford it.
"This is just what we need to improve the warrior's morale." Mosdorl mused, blood on his mind.
Kenstrel, ever the voice of reason, chided carefully-"They may seem weak, but some beastfolk wield wild magics." he pointed out. In his long life, he had certainly seen them. Beastmen seemed closer to the Earth, and more able to manipulate the elements than the common man. Orlanthi Lore had pointed out the fool warrior, Tonbrook, who angered Aet by passing water on her holy crops. She had sent a dozen of her worshipers, those clad in the form of animals (commonly thought of as beastmen these days) and they had made the Earth swallow him up entirely. Of course, Tonbrook survived by a fools luck, as he always did.
"...The beastfolk were always Eunae's enemy, though he never killed them needlessly." Harran offered, sensing his wife's heavy thoughts, but giving her room to decide. In this regard, he was merely a member of the ring-each of them knew their duty to the clan, was separate from their marriage vows. He would not sacrifice one for the other, surely. But, he worried she sometimes thought too much, and did not feel enough.
"If we trade with them, the other clans will see us as eccentric." Kostardos said brightly, his knife doing slow loops through his knuckles-and as usual, no one could be sure if he meant this comment positively or negatively!
...
Kerendra, like all Orlanthi, knew beastmen only be deed-strange creatures, of varying sorts. No one was quite sure if they served chaos or not...but, they certainly seemed fond of raiding-much like Orlanthi themselves. She had heard of the swift centaurs, a torso of a man (or worse a woman with top unclad) and the strong lower body of a horse, who used arrows and spears at range...vicious bullmen who wielded great axes and hammers...and of course cunning Foxmen, who had a reputation for thievery and secret murder. There was even rumors of Waspmen who could travel the sky! Truly, as many varieties of amalgamations of animals as could be found in a local forest. All were dangerous and weird-again, as no doubt many Orlanthi could be considered.
Yet these ducks did not seem to be warriors. They were almost like her own clan, albeit clad in strange feathered forms.
Kerendra wondered. These ducks were not harming their interests, save by existing. Yet the Clan, the Ring, even her own instincts called for blood. Orlanthi tended to take what they wanted-force of battle being the ultimate adjudicator in the eyes of the Gods. She was a good chieftain in her own eyes, though, and thought through all alternatives. She had no doubt it pressed, even the seemingly smallest and weakest of beings could fight viciously. Which was good-no Orlanthi wished for a mere slaughter, preferring a good fight, to an easy one. She wondered how long they had lived there, and what they could trade each other. The beings certainly had no need of food. Calls to raid them would only become louder if the clan faced their own shortage...
Thinking back to Harran's words. Would Eunae himself wished them slain, or spared? Perhaps the God of knowledge might offer advice...she really only needed to know one thing. Should she treat them as Orlanthi, or as merely animals? Animals were slaughtered and driven away...but, you owed an Orlanthi some amount of respect, even if you did choose to raid them.
...
Harran sat cross legged in the rune-stone circle of Eunae, for they had not yet built a temple in his honor-a great many items or lore were laid about him, donated by the clan to hopefully entice his answer. He held out a parchment scroll, in his own writing. Paper was valuable to most learned Orlanthi, as it contained written knowledge. Slowly, carefully, he began writing the words to the prayer-every measured stroke of his charcoal pen done with great care. Then, he would lay the scroll against the smoke of a low burning stone brazier. The smoke would tinge the parchment, color it eventually grey, then black. But in the order it did so, some parts were lighter than others. Perhaps sometimes making shapes...or maybe even words...
And, those who revered Eunae knew one could make out Eunae's fated symbols in the drift of smoke, if they were wise and patient, and their God was pleased.
Action: Perform a divination. Ask Eunae how we should treat these strange beings. As men, or as beasts? Sacrifice ten gifts to him, if possible.
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Topic: King of Dragon Pass (Strategy/Roleplaying game)[4/4] (Read 11043 times)