What are the other 20%?
The same Shamanist-ish religion they are here. Some would have converted but the Pope called a no-go, citing xenoanthropology. The pope at this point's a pretty cool dude, for the kind of hyper religious person that you need to be to be the pope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moon grows dark six times before something more important happens.
You learn of the forests and gain a general education. You know which herbs heal what, not quite with the skill of a witchdoctor but well enough that any extra patients come back to you when Amma has her hands full. You train for some weeks with the Champion, a good natured Goblin at almost a meter high. The towering man knocks you around a bit, but your intuitive knowledge keeps him somewhat on his toes, and he congratulates you.
His apprentice is not so well receiving of your success. The boy is a runt, with one eye, an odd choice from the Champion, but when you see him in action you know exactly why he was chosen to become a Warrior. He darts andslips across the field in a series of moves that flow seamlessly into each other. He doesn't seem to move himself, rather spinning the battlefield around him and bringing his enemies to his level. Due to his size, he seems to prefer crippling an opponent and then dancing around them rather than duking it out toe-to-toe.
What's more, the boy seems very popular, a natural silvertongue who has already gathered the coming generation about him with ease. He never uses the word, but the rest of the group identify themselves as "Sunsetters", taking time out of busy days to dye their clothing black, orange and purple, with strips of the teal-green the same color as the sky. At their own expense as well; the dyes are very difficult to obtain, some having to be traded for with the eastern tribes. The Champion seems to support this behavior.
But that was last week, and this week you begin the basic political training every goblin in every tribe in the area undergoes. Politics are serious business, with five tribes gathering in one clearing to discuss matters of importance to all of them. A tenative peace has been kept after the Dulgoz Tribe of the east won supremacy. Feuds were settled with duels between champions and the tribes had been content to simply yell at each other under the Pavilion for now.
You're at the break of the clearing. A huge mass of goblins, over a thousand, possibly two, presses to the fore. The pavilion was built for this, though; you know that there's comfortable seating for a thousand goblins and standing room for almost three thousand, theoretically.
In practice, it depends on the mood of the day. Angry goblins would require more space, happy goblins less, and the excited goblins today will take up very little room indeed if one doesn't mind several good smackings on accident. The best view is at the center, but the more comfortable seats are in the back, and the center of the Pavilion is dug out and covered with small flat stones, so you would still get to see.
How close are you willing to get? Or to phrase it a different way, how interested are you in the announcement to be made?
Poll
6 (31.6%)
Author
Topic: The Starborn [Xenofiction?] (Read 77335 times)