Monday, January 31, 2011

Year 106,170: The Rise Of The Salt Men

(To give the proper sense of dread and impending doom, I started the players off with the myth The Curséd Light.)

The difficulties faced by the Zefari Empire do not have much effect on the people of the Nutar Valley.  They have lived and farmed the valley near the ancient Skeltern for untold generations.  The people live happily atop ruins of previous settlements, and in some cases even blissfully unaware of those ruins; it has been over six thousand years since their ancestors first came up from the caverns below the mountains to try their hand at surface agriculture.

Further up the Nutar Valley, they have encountered iron deposits, and have just begun to make use of them.  Through their trade they have encountered the use of iron in weapons and tools, and they see the promise in such a hard, versatile metal.  Their valley culture, much more confined than the Zefari of the open plains, has encouraged a great deal more intermingling between the various races.  Unlike the Zefari, there is no culture of stone-shaping magic, because the Avadi and Fentan intermarry as they please, and that particular talent was bred out generations ago.  No one race is ascendant.  The affairs of the Empire are as distant and disregarded as the Phoenicians were to the Celts.  And for its part, the Empire had long ago ceased to concern itself with the lands which had given birth to it, and the policies of distant Emperors never intruded on valley life.

Not that the Nutar Valley was entirely peaceful, for there were occasional wars and skirmishes.  As there was plenty of fertile land north of the Copper Mountains, these were infrequent occasions at best — that is, until the arrival of the Kallko.

The Kallko began to emerge at night from the caverns along the Nutar River and farm the rocky soil.  They were infrequently seen by the Fentan people because they never emerged during daylight hours; and the lands they chose to farm were among the poorest, steepest, rockiest lands fit only for the grazing of goats.  It was, in fact, due to missing animals that the Kallko caught the attention of the surface-dwellers at all:  goatherds reported some of their goats had gone missing in the hills.  Expeditions to search for them led only to strange stone shelters near waterfalls, where spattering water caused strange luminescent mosses to grow on the nearby rocks.  Primitive shrines were found in the hills, too:  regular blocks of stone, possibly shaped by magic, arranged in a ring around obscene, dancing statues created expertly in obsidian.  These shrines were often decorated with rusting or rotting sacrifices left by the primitives who shaped them.

It was thought that the Kallko must be some tribe of barbarians or savages that had moved into the hills; the people of Fentan were well aware of the existence of Neolithic Peoples that the Bronze Age had left behind.  That made their first encounter all the more surprising.

The Kallko were underground people, pale-skinned, about five feet tall.  Most of the males had a sparse coating of a thick, metallic fur; all had horns, although the females’ horns were often larger and straighter, sometimes as long as a human’s hand.  Their eyes were large, their hearing excellent, and their language surprisingly sophisticated.  The Kallko people were very swift and sure-footed — some of the Fentan believed that the Kallko had hooves, rather than wearing boots as men do —as well as tireless and very good in the dark.

What was most terrifying about the Kallko was not their visage, nor their sudden appearance, but their war machines.  The Kallko were primitive in many ways, lacking art, a written language, an organized priesthood, and even the barest understanding of the sun, sky, and seasons.  In other ways, they were the equal of Fentan:  they had surprisingly complex music, a deep understanding of mathematics, and a sophisticated knowledge of weaving and knot-tying that the Kallko used in place of written letters.  Knots and beads and loops on strings could be manipulated in the dark with one’s fingers; no light was necessary.  But in one key way, the Kallko were terrifyingly advanced:  their war machines.

The Kallko did battle underground, and their war machines were designed specifically to shake down caverns or destabilize galleries.  They understood the casting of metal, especially iron and steel, and they had already developed the pulley, the geartooth, and the wormscrew.  The Kallko had mining carts on rails that extracted soil from the tunnels, powered by a water wheel; they had compact gear-aligned battering rams designed punch holes in stone walls; and most frightening to the Fentan, they had a six-foot screw press which they used on their defeated enemies.  Water, you see, is scarce in the caverns, and the Kallko were not about to let a valuable resource go to waste.  Often the bodies of their defeated enemies — at least those they did not eat — were used as fertilizer.

Within months of the Kallko’s discovery in the valley, the pale-skinned goat-men were using sorcery to extend the caverns.  Large parts of the valley were being enclosed in artificial tunnels to serve as habitat for the Kallko.

King Iden V (M, 49) of Skeltern has called together his advisers to consult on this matter.

Councilor Antharam (M, 43) is a guentar stallion from an aristocratic family.  His line made their name in long-distance trading, establishing a firm foothold in the olive groves and bartering much with his supplies of olive oil.  “They are impossible,” he says.  “We have spells to comprehend their language, but they do not seem to understand the nature of buying and selling at all.  They won’t take our bronze coins at all.  They say bronze is worthless.  And you can’t reason with them.  I bring them good merchandise, good olive oils, good cork, woolens and onions and flax, and they insist on touching it all.  And not one of them offers any better price than any other.  It’s like they’ve all agreed to buy my wares at one single price, no matter what I do.”

“You mean,” says Councilor Quag (M, 60), “you can’t lie to them.”  Quag is a traditionalist, ex-military Avadi.  His place on the King’s advisory council came from his service in the wars, routing barbarians in the north to keep them away from Fentanese settlements.  “They have strange ways, to be sure, but I’ve seen stranger.  They live in the dark.  Of course they’re not going to look at your wares.  They can tell more by feel and shape and size how much you’re offering.”

“But how do they always offer the same price?” says Antharam.  “Why do they never bargain with my men?”

“Who knows?” says Quag.  “Some barbarians have never heard of haggling.  I’ve seen it.  You’ll have to learn to do business their way, or teach them to do business your way.”

“It’s impossible,” says Antharam.  “And if they continue to take up the valley floor with their stone walls, they’re going to block off the entire valley.  Our communication and trade with the Aquilus Republic is going to be cut off.  Merchants won’t be able to get through.  We won’t be able to get vancium, or sell our merchandise there.  Your Majesty, I recommend in the strongest possible terms that you send an army up the valley to rout these goat-men.  They cannot be permitted to occupy the valley upstream of us.”

“Nonsense,” says Quag.  “You’re only worried that they’ll close the trade routes.  There are two rivers that come into Skeltern.  I’m not going to send good men up against those monsters until they become a threat to our safety.  I don’t have enough soldiers to squander any on protecting a few fat merchants from getting less fat.”

“What do you propose, Councilor Quag?” asks King Iden.  He is a man of mixed Avadi and Fentanese blood, and an amateur dabbler in magic.

“First, we must find every cavern we can and block it up,” says Quag.  “We’ll fill those caverns with stone if we must, and shut down our mines.”

“Shut down the mines, are you mad?” asks Antharam.  He can see the profits dwindling already.

“They come from underground, and our hills are riddled with mines,” says Quag.  “They may come up behind us, or through some old forgotten shaft.  Attacking them in the valley is a fool’s mission, and I am not a fool.  But we don’t have to let them attack us on their own ground.  They hate the surface, and they hate the light, so let’s make them fight on our terms.  We block up all the mines and fortify our western city walls against their devilish war machines.  We put spells in place to flood the valley west of us with bright light.  If ever they attack, we’ll shoot them down with bows.”

“That’s as good as closing down the Valley,” cries Antharam.  “You propose to make a pauper of me?  Then, your Majesty, allow me to make my recommendation to the Aquilus Republic.  Perhaps if we coordinated an attack from both sides—”

“Yes, the Republic,” agrees Councilor Quag.  “We should at least send a runner to warn them that goat men have arisen in the hills.  Perhaps they have already encountered them, but they deserve to be warned in advance.”

“That is your advice?” asks King Iden.  “You both recommend attack?  If it must be so.  But first we must consult the gods.  If they are sending goat-men of the deeps to destroy us, we should at least know why we are being punished.”

What The Players Decided 
As soon as Jack read out the part in the myth The Curséd Light where the god was named Toklokmok, Connor lifted his arms in victory.  That was the name of his character, and how he had signed the graffito he had left in the Salt Men's domain all those years ago.  His elation went downhill from there, as it became evident that the Kallko didn't really like Toklokmok, and in fact resented him for imprisoning them under the mountains.

The Players listened with apprehension as I described this warlike culture of engineers, builders, miners, and machinists that had sprung up right between the already-embattled Zefari stone shapers and the Aquiline Republic.

Connor wanted to investigate the salt men, to go talk to them, to find out what motivated them.  I think he was somehow proud of his hellish creation that was about to come down on civilized society like a hammer.  I wasn't keen to have the players try to speak with the Kallko, primarily because I felt it was more dramatically interesting to have one culture on the planet that they didn't directly control from the inside.  Unless the Kallko came to worship the players as gods, they would have no influence over them.

The Kallko were worryingly advanced in many ways, but I reminded them that they weren't superior.  They don't have literature and writing and culture, I pointed out.

"Which is exactly what I'd expect of a civilization created by Connor," Dave observed.  "Sorry, man.  It's funny 'cause it's true."

Joe was in favor of making the Fentan people solve their own problem.  The Fentanese had been, fifty thousand years ago, the very people who had exiled the Kallko into the darkness.  They weren't to remember that, of course, but Joe still felt it was their own mess to clean up.  "Take responsibility for the sins of your fathers," Joe said implacably.

Sins of the father?  Interesting.  That little phrase could come back to bite him someday.

"Besides," Joe went on, "blocking up the mines on this side wouldn't do any good.  It won't stop these guys.  They've got the same stone-shaper magic that the Zefar have, I'll bet.  They could just part the stone and walk right through, maybe pass through solid rock without stopping.  War isn't the answer here."

Dave and Connor, too, were all for finding a peaceful solution.  Perhaps the Kallko could be taught or trained in the art of barter, or the Fentan merchants could learn to handle things the Kallko way.  "How do they all pick the same selling price?"  Dave asked curiously.  "Is there any suggestion that there's some kind of telepathic link going on?"

Let me put it this way, I said.  They're engineers.  They live underground and they hardly ever use their eyes.  They're really good at determining things by size and length and volume, and they're not fooled by presentation.

Jack was opposed to any attempt to tame or civilize the Kallko.  "They're going to get taken advantage of," he declared.

"They've got deadly war machines," Dave objected.

"I know," Jack said.  "That's all the more reason not to let them get taken advantage of."

The ultimate decision was for peace and trade.  The Fentan were responsible for banishing the Kallko in the first place; they should be responsible for welcoming them back to the light.

Results 
I won't know the results of this round until I have prepared for the next round.

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