The Meeting with the Katytans.
A young Monoglain on horseback slowly made his way down the mountain, he unexpectedly came upon a group of sentient creatures digging out housing. He was obviously surprised by this saying something in his language, he immediately turned and ran.
No Katytan noticed until alerted by the sound of rocks falling down the mountain. Some bellowing shouts can be heard on the wind, and the focus of activities in the Katytan camp shifts from comfort-seeking to security concerns.
A few hours later a group of 101 armed men on horseback picked their way down the mountain by the same route the young one took, the young Monoglain was leading the group. The whole group stopped just out of reach of the creatures. One warrior on horseback moved his horse closer, he was obviously royalty of some sort, dressed in the best armor in the whole group. He mumbled something in their language to the young one (("Are these them?")), before taking a bland metal band and putting over his ring-finger.
He immediately understood all that the others were saying, surprised the gift worked.
He called out, "Greetings. My name is Ynant, I am the Genghis of my people, who are you?".
Though less than a dozen are outside at first, mostly tasked with binding together triangular stacks of barrels with ropes and collecting stones into piles, over twenty Katytans are soon visible. A third of them are wearing bronze and leather armour and holding bronze or iron maces.
One of the Katytans nudges a young one, who promptly begins scuttling up the slope. Collectively, they are all taken aback by Ynant's ability to speak their language. Another, one of the finer-equipped warriors, recovers first and quickly responds, clearly anxious, "I am... Icand. We are the Katytans, of th-the First, though it would seem you know of us already." His manner seems very awkward.
"No, we do not know of you. We do not know of many other races... Except...." He trails off and stares into the distance, one tear slides down his face, before realizing what he had been doing and wipes the tear away. "You have not much to fear from us, we do not have hostile intentions."
"We will be passing through. We will be taking food from the land, do not try to stop us."
"I... see." Icand takes a step backward, flustered, as the sound of scattering pebbles approaches once again from up the slope.
It is not the youngling returning, but rather a particularly large Katytan wearing a leather tunic and rust-red skirt bounding down the slope and skidding on the rocks in an attempt to bleed off inertia. She managed to stop herself before toppling over one of the doorways, leaps down onto the ramp and climbs out a few seconds later, after regaining some composure.
"Wow, there sure are a lot of you. Those are nice horses."
A few of the men on horseback lazily turn to look at the Katytan coming down the hill.
Ynants horse bows as he does, "Greetings, and who may you be? The leader of your people I presume?"
"That's right. Nasha Elesmawaura, pleased to make your acquaintance." She salutes. "I caught the end of that. Don't worry, there should be more than enough game to go around, and if you want to pick them over, be my guest. We would like to trade, if we can, though we have little to offer at the moment other than wood and bone crafts."
"We have little to offer as well. We have been traveling for years, we make very little."
Nasha laughs for a moment, as several of the other Katytans get bored and quietly go back to work. "I see, I see. Yes, well, this is the first time we've been on dry land in over a year, and without secure lodgings, what can you do? If that's all, I suppose we'll be seeing each other." She eyes the men arrayed behind Ynant. "Unless you'd care to talk. We're new to these lands, and I take it you're not from around here, either."
"Sure, lets talk." Nasha watches Ynant and waits patiently.
Ynant rides to the younger Monglain that happened upon the encampment, he takes off his metal band and says something that the Katytans cannot understand. He puts it back on and calls out, "We are going for the moment. We will be back in a few hours, goodbye!"
Nasha nods, crookedly, then smiles. "Very well. We shall prepare a meeting room before you return."
A few hours later...
Ynant rides back fast, "Hello, I hope you don't mind if we camp here for the night?"
Stones have been piled around the Katytanan quarters, seemingly at random, but they make it very difficult to approach on horseback. Firelight is visible inside some of the rooms, and the goods have been taken inside.
One Katytan carrying sacks stops to look. "I don't see why not. We only have one room to spare, and it won't fit many of you, though."
"Oh.. Hahaha no, outside. We have tents we can use, we also have collapsible corrals."
She waves a hand toward an area that has been cleared of vegetation about a dozen meters down slope. "Do as you see fit. Watch out for giant eagles, though." She continues about her business.
Ynant loses a loud and piercing whistle. In the distance a rumble can be heard, until finally the 100 armed men from before come galloping over the hill stopping just before Ynant, arranged in a square formation.
A smaller rumble can be heard closer in the distance and several hundred ((2-3 hundred)) come over the hill leading the same number of horses, each horse is dragging a travois, each travois is packed with dried meat, furs and a few carry odd bits of leather and wood.
A few of the men on horseback direct them to the clearing where they set up 50 or so tents. A few tents are kept for storage of meats, furs and other important goods.
Most of the Katytans come to watch, and several look quite impressed. One offers to help with the unloading.
In a few seconds all tents are up and the packing of goods begins, many of the tents already has foldable furnishings in it. "Nasha Elesmawaura? May we talk in my tent?"
One of the Katytan guards responds in a dry tone, indicating a light farther up the cliff, "The First is waiting for you, and has prepared a both a bonfire and no small feast in her meeting chamber. However, if you insist, I am sure she would not mind."
"No, I'll go meet her." Ynant turns his horse towards the bonfire, as he turns to go all the armed warriors dismount and set up a pen for the horses, all but one. The one that didn't dismount followed Ynant towards the bonfire.
It's a bit of a climb and the wind picks up closer to the top, but Ynant will see a small chamber carved into the back of a shallow cave, around the fire. The walls are covered with hangings of giant cave spider silk, woven into elaborate and colourful, though mostly nonsensical patterns that shift rhythmically in the firelight. Nasha is seated on a mat laid over the rough cave floor to the left. There is an identical mat to right of her.
Torches are set on poles both outside and against the back wall, and there is a water pot with a spoon and a cup. The spoon is nearly as large as Ynant's arm, and was probably the only suitable item they had on hand.
Ynant and the boy behind him dismount before the cave and enter. "Nasha. Good evening."
"This is my page, first of all, whatever you say to me you can say in front of him." Ynant points to the boy on his right.
Nasha nods. "Welcome." She nods again. "Understood. If you find it too warm in here, I can arrange for someone to fan you."
"No, we are fine."
"Now, what is it you want to know?"
The page next to him whispers something into Ynants ear. "Hmm, is it alright for my page to sit on the mat next to you?"
She nods, though it is unclear what she is affirming in this case. "Of these lands and their inhabitants, most of all your people. You are the first sapient race we have encountered in three years, but we have seen marks of passage upon the plains as we approached the mountains."
Nasha moves over a bit, amused by the request. "Certainly."
The young Katytan you saw earlier enters and begins heating a tray of vegetables and fish on the fire, keeping his head down modestly.
The Page sits down on the mat, Ynant comments "I spoil the boy too much. Now, what can I tell you of our race? I can tell you we were created by our god by ideas. I can tell you this because he told me himself. Do you know what my title, Genghis means? Probably not, it means that I was the one to unite the tribes. I am the blessed one of the gods. And you know what he gave me for being blessed? This ring." Ynant holds up his hand. "All I know about it is that it gives me thje ability to understand and be understood. Right now I'm not speaking your language, I'm speaking mine."
She nods. "I suspected as much. Truly a fascinating artifact."
"Aye, it is."
"Your god speaks to you, does he? What is his name?"
She seems earnest, and not skeptical in the least.
"Aye he does, he appeared before us a few months before. Releasing us from following his guidance. For the first time in many years we are free to do as we wish with no repercussions from our god. His name is Ghigens."
"I will now tell you of our history...
She clasps her hands together and grins as Ynant continues.
"Our ancestral lands are far far in the east. There was another race close by, like us but smaller and more numerous. Unlike us, their cities were sedentary, there was mutual peace for centuries until a few years ago. Most of us remember it, it was the darkest day in our history. Back then our combined might measured innumerable, often large gatherings for battles resulted in millions of troops. They sent a hundred groups of a thousand soldier, we didn't have our combined might and we were slaughtered."
Nasha raises an eyebrow at the numbers.
"Ghigens lead us west, to here. When we arrived, when he stopped leading us. There were 500 left. We split into 3 groups, us going directly west, one going north and one south." The Page had his head bowed and one tear was shed from Ynant. "I lost all my family. The only family I have are my sworn brothers, who led the other groups."
Nasha raises an eyebrow at the numbers.
"Eh, our numbers are probably off, this was a long long time ago. Things get distorted over time. But the numbers of the enemy were true, we didn't know the extent of their empire. Some though it was never ending."
"I see. A tragic tale..."
"So, you seek to escape your past."
"No. We seek to live."
Nasha chuckles. "Yes, that is what I meant."
"Ah. I see."
"Tell me about your history."
"Our story is quite different. We come from the far west. A race much like the one you describe resided to the north of our lands, but they caused us little trouble and year after year, we send large caravans across the desert to trade with them. War came to us in the end, and I watched the demon Usruk kill dozens of my kin before his foul heart was pierced. Our population became stagnant and dead things began washing up upon the shore. Nine years ago, I led my people out of those tepid lands, in search of what new destiny our goddess had determined for us."
"What else do you wish to know?"
"As I have said, information any races or notable terrain features you have encountered in this area would be very helpful. We have much work ahead of us before we can hope to build a new caravan, much less another settlement, but I have been feeling quite lost ever since we began rowing upriver towards these mountains, and would appreciate any maps, reports, or other data you may have accumulated on the region."
"Hmm... We do not know much. However we can give all that we can."
"Likewise."
"This is a harsh world, and all can benefit from the peaceful exchange of goods and ideas."
Ynant gets a bit of paper from the page and a pot of ink and a quill. He quickly scratches down a picture, "I trained as a cartographer back in the homelands."
"Tis a harsh world. As is demonstrated in our histories."
"I think that's all we have to talk about. We will leave in the morning."
"Ah, most unfortunate. I hope for more fruitful meetings in the future." Ynant's is presented with his meal. The youngling dashes off.
Ynant thanks Nasha for the meal and eats it in silence. Afterwards Ynant and Nasha leave, Ynant joins in the drunken revelry of the night. Early the next morning the Monoglains get up while it's still dark and make there way west, seemingly having no hangover.
- As Transcribed by Ynants page, Natod.
The Meeting with the Orcs.
The Map.
The Cities.