Nemani ate and drank lightly, preferring to watch the other guests of the banquet, many of whom took much greater relish in their food. The tribal chiefs and elders feasted on the captured animals and gathered fruits strewn across the great wooden table (actually a series of smaller tables joined and covered with an extensive cloth) set up within the temple hall. Quaffing ale from horns they toasted Gheronaton and sucked heartily on the fat and grease of roasted hindquarters. Around them stood thirty young men in plain dress, carrying slightly concave steel platters upon which further fruit and drink rested. At the far end of the table sat Tasset, resplendent in the one piece of leather and steel scale armour Thirk had managed to produce, more as a show of craftsmanship than a threat. Besides, he had gone without a weapon to put the diners at ease.
Once enough food had been consumed that Nemani felt sure his guests were sufficiently weighed down by meat and ale, the priest rose and struck a copper goblet with a knife to attract attention.
"Elders, chiefs, friends, companions," he greeted. "I thank you all for travelling here to celebrate this harvest eve, for great changes are coming upon our tribes. As you know, I speak for the temple of Gheronaton on Aether, and I look out for the interests of our people - all our peoples. Some of you agree with the word of Gheronaton and have pilgrimaged here yourself to pay respects to Him. Some may have had their people make their own pilgrimages to this place. Others may not believe, but have profited nevertheless from the temple's interests in trade and finance. We are stronger now than before our trade links were established. Is it my hope that we may continue such a profitable relationship!" There was a small murmur of assent from the table.
"As you know, peaceful as Aether may be, there are still threats. The orcs continue to raid and kill, and there are tales of a great beast that hunts our neighbours the elves - many of whom are beginning to band together. I know some of you are feeling threatened by this. Yet we have an advantage - we have steel, and the skill to shape it."
"Yet you will not share these secrets!" called out one of the chieftains. Nemani recognised him as Galen, a sweaty, obese human in loose robes, fingers thick with bright stones on carved wooden rings. "Why should your people keep the glory, the power of war - the power to defend yourselves while others must suffer the predation of the orcs!" There was a rather loud rumble of assent from across the table. Nemani raised his hands for peace.
"It is true that we have kept close hold of this knowledge, yes, but I am pleased to announce that this will no longer remain the case. I can assure you that by the end of this meeting, steel will go to each and every one of your villages."
"And what of your interest in this?" demanded an elder, a thin and grey man by the name of Alden. "I'm sorry, I meant 'Gheronaton's' interest. He always takes such a large interest in our loans, I daresay He will take His tithe of this as well?"
"Indeed. To represent Gheronaton's interest in protecting your villages from destruction and war, He will ask a tithe of you - a tax of one twentieth."
"A twentieth of what?" asked Galen.
"Of your harvest. Of your crafts. Of your young men."
The room rose into uproar as every elder tried to shout his or her own view on the matter. Nemani watched silently through the raucous hubbub, and so great was the noise that none heard the subtle clunk of the temple doors being barred from the outside. He remained standing until it became clear the chiefs were not planning on quietening by themselves, so Nemani picke dup his copper goblet and turned, lobbing it with such force at the copper bell above the altar that it rang out. Liquid sound spread throughout the room, quelling every voice and lowering the elders to their seats until only Nemani remained standing. He cast his eyes around the room from elder to elder before he spoke again.
"Let me talk to you about grass, revered elders, and why it is the reason we cannot build anything that lasts. Not buildings, not farms, not societies. Every human village I have ever seen suffers the same problem - we breed sheep, we raise crops, and the very ground is drained of the life we need. Some say that this is just the way, but I have seen fields grow back. I have watched land renew.
"It is the responsibility of a leader to look out for his people. His own concerns are nothing to that of his tribe. The interests of the tribe are prosperity, are proliferation, are continuation. Every time a tribe must move, this is put at threat. Every field you turn to dust is a failure of your responsibilities to your people. I judge that each and every one of you has failed to care for your people."
"What nonsense is this?" Galen scoffed, his rings jingling. "We eat well in my tribe! I have brought great prosperity!"
"No, I have brought prosperity," said Nemani. "I worked to wring the best out of people, me and my acolytes and the temple, we made people sit up and work for their living, work harder than they ever did before, and everyone has prospered by it. It was Ruk who travelled to each of your tribes, who set about the work of fighting through your prejudices and petty hatreds, of helping you overcome them just enough to look after your own self-interest rather than succomb to spite. You eat well in your tribe, Galen, any man can see that by looking. But your people? Your people will starve when the lean season comes because you fail to store your provisions. Your tribe has moved six times in your lifetime, Alden, once here and five upon the world you left. Each time you have left nothing bust dust in your wake. Already your own lands are growing barren. How many more seasons can you wring out of it before you have to move again?"
"This will not do," Nemani continued, leaning gently forward so his palms were pressed against the tabletop. "So as of tonight, I am taking control. Of this village, and of every one of your villages, to save them from you." The angry shouting began to rise again, so Nemani picked up another goblet and slammed it hard against the table until he had the elders' ears again. "Any man who does not agree, who feels that it is not worth surrendering their power for the best interests of their people, who wishes to stand against me, may stand and I promise that they will never have to submit to my rule. Any who do not, or who feel that this bears consideration before they disagree, by all means sit and remain to hear the extent of my proposal, which will include protection, the power of steel and stronger trade than ever before."
Alden stood first, followed by his guard. Galen rose an unsteady second, wobbling slightly with the effort. One by one a total of seven chiefs and their companions stood. Nemani sighed, frowning inwardly - just over half had chosen to oppose his decision. With a heavy heart, he nodded to Tassel.
"Now!" shouted the commander.
Fourteen of the servants tipped their steel serving platters until, robbed of the food they carried, they quite suddenly became shields. They drew long steel knives from their backs and with lightning swiftness plunged them into the backs of the opposing chiefs and their companions, again and again. The initial strike was so quick that the opposition was already bleeding out on the ground before the remaining chieftains began to scream in panic and try to rise. The remaining sixteen bared their shields and weapons, forming a ring around the suddenly captive leadership of the opposing Aetheran tribes.
"Now that I have your undivided attention," said Nemani as the bodies cooled, "let me explain to you how things are going to be. Those of you who have agreed to submit to my rule will be allowed to continue in your capacity as chiefs. However, your position is no longer sacred. I will be your Tyrant, and as such can and will replace you as necessary with men of my choosing. You will otherwise continue to run your tribes as normal, with a few exceptions.
"The first exception is that there will now be laws, codes of conduct that will be enforced by yourselves and myself on pain of various penalties. Not only is this to ensure the honouring of contracts, but to preserve life and property - except for that of those who break those laws, let us call such an act a crime and such men criminals. The first such law, before any provisions against murder and theft - of which there will be, I assure you - is to keep off the grass. There will be prohibitions against having too many animals on a piece of pasture, against farming a single field too long without letting the ground rest and recover. These laws will ensure the safety and prosperity of our people.
"The second exception is that you will no longer keep warriors of your own. Your warriors are now to travel to this place to train in our new military, to serve the united state as soldiers and to help build. Once done, warriors of a different village will return to your village to act as your protection, skillfully trained, armed and armoured to help protect you. I will see no more squabbling between different tribes - we are all now one people under Gheronaton.
"Third, the worship of Gheronaton will now become standard for our people. A shrine will be built in every village, and all who serve in our army will pay their respects to war, in the hope that we may have peace. Our villages will unite as a city, a ruling power over the land we hold. All land was made by the gods, and since Gheronaton protects our land, we will pay Him His interest as tax.
"And finally, we shall unite beneath a name for our city. It will not be named after me, for that would be hypocrisy given the responsibility of leaders, nor shall it be named after Gheronaton, for He needs no such appellations. Our city shall be named after the metal that made it strong. We unite under the name of Steol.
"You are to return to your villages to spread the news, each of you accompanied by my guards. Any dissent will be met with swiftly and decisively. You are to carry out my orders and then resume your responsibilities as leaders. Those tribes now without leadership will be appointed new governors. Would anyone like to say anything?"
"Just one," said a grizzled old huntsman to Nemani's left. He grabbed a knife from the table and lunged, screaming; "Death to the Tyrant!"
Nemani caught him by the wrist and, with motions practised over years of fighting, broke it and caught hold of the knife. With a sudden thrust the knife cut beneath the old huntsman's sternum. Nemani twisted, false ribs cracking under the pressure until he had carved a ragged semi-circle, into which he thrust his free hand. To the shock and awe of everyone present, he wrenched the dissenter's still-beating heart from his chest and took a bite from it.
Staring down the entire hall, Nemani chewed three times before spitting the fragment out, apparently in disgust but mostly because it is impossible to chew raw heart for any length of time.
"I am your Tyrant, and I rule. You are dismissed."
Nemani forcibly attempts to unite the surrounding villages into the first mortal City-State, Steol.
Steol is governed by a Tyrannical Theocracy.
Nemani institutes Tyranny.
Tyranny is a stable enough government to allow permanent settlements with agriculture.
Nemani orders Gheronatonic shrines to be built throughout the city-state.
Gheronatonism becomes the state religion of Steol.
[all mortal, all of merely questionable success]
----
Nemani wiped the last of the blood from his mouth and sipped at the horn of ale. Nearly everyone had left, save Tassel and Ruk. The normally jolly trader and farmer had grown pale at the evening's events. He worked up the courage to approach the new Tyrant.
"This isn't how I thought things would go," said Ruk.
"None of us did," said Nemani, "but that's how they've turned out."
"I joined up with you for peace, Nemani. For prosperity!" Ruk ran a palm down his face. Nemani gave him a sad, almost pitying look.
"Then why join a temple devoted to war?" He sighed. "This is the way to peace, old friend. To prosperity, even. Even now they will think of fighting back, but left to their own devices the tribes would fight one another for eternity. We are bringing the people together, and through that we will move forward."
Ruk shook his head. He stood up and walked away. The temple doors slammed behind him.
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Topic: Godhood I Play Thread (Read 75822 times)