AdorableSaucer

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The Wuhdige Tribe

The Amazing Decade

The victory over the Elu and the Wogweh had meant everything. After Aloo and his warriors had come home triumphant, a simple call to arms was all it took to send the Wuhdige back on the warpath. Over the following two years after the Elu’s defeat and the Wogweh’s expulsion from the island, the Wuhdige dedicated themselves to claiming new land and new fishing grounds. Selka that had never before left the safety of Hohm cast themselves out into the woods and onto distant beaches to expand the tribe’s territory. Previously simple fruit and nut-picking camps were reinforced with better, sturdier burrows, and the ones closest to Hohm were reinforced with earth ditches and short palisades - some even had watchmen all year round. The whole northern tip of the island became populated as chieftain Aloo encouraged more and more selka to leave Hohm and establish new permanent camps by new fishing grounds.

As the second year approached, one of the northern camps, a small group of maybe ten selka, caught some wonderful-tasting fish: they were fat, juicy; they were slow and clumsy in the water. Catching them was pup’s play. The leader of this small camp, one named Hadama, decided to bring some back to Hohm. Immediately, it was a hit.

“Hadama, my dear friend,” said chief Aloo amiably to the grinning selka. “How ‘bout you bring us a share of this type of fish every now and then? How does once a month sound?”

“Well, if Lugo’s merciful enough to give us catches like that, I don’t see why not!” Hadama replied smilingly. “Though, if it’s alright wit’cha, chief, we need a couple’o things back at the camp.”

“Naturally, bro. What do you need?”

Hadama rubbed his hands hands together nervously. “W-well, if it ain’t too much to ask, chief, the trees up north are no good to chop with our tools - we could use a couple o’ axes and some firewood for the time while we chop.”

“Sounds good, bro,” Aloo declared and clapped Hadama on the shoulder. Duhwah came over with a long wooden pole, at the head of which was inserted a sharpened rock. The rock sat in a charred hole through the pole, making it sit fairly tightly. During the almost three years, Wuhdige knowledge of tools had crossed a threshold - a selka had one day been chopping at a tree with a sharpened rock as usual, when her spear had caught fire in the nearby pyre. Desperate to put it out, she had hammered at it with the rock in her hand, smashing it apart. Disheartened, she tried to reattach the tip, and found that a small split at the top of the spear pole where the fire had burned actually held the spear tip rather firmly. More experiments had been carried out after the news spread until the new stone axe had been invented. Now it, as well as the pickaxe and hammer, were the core tools of daily work.

Aloo placed the axe in Hadama’s hands and nodded. “Wood will be waiting for ya outside, bro - be safe on your way home.”
Hadama grinned at the axe and took the chieftain’s hand. “Thank ya, chief! Thank ya so much!” He then strolled out with a happy hum.

Duhwah gave Aloo a friendly punch on the shoulder. “You’re doing better since the Wogweh left, chief.”

“Sure am, Duh. Every day, more and more selka come to Hohm to tell us that they’ve found new fishing grounds or berry bushes. If this keeps up, then I dunno what we’ll do with all this food.”

“Sounds like a good time for you to get yourself a girl and a bunch’a pups, son,” Duhwah proposed. Aloo made a frown and rubbed his hands together.

“W-well, sure, but… Already?”

Duhwah smacked him proudly on the back and Aloo unleashed a dry cough. “‘Course, son! After all these years of fightin’ and hatin’, we all gotta remember our roots, go back to what really matters…” The champion gave the chieftain a heartfelt smile. “Family.”

Aloo scratched his temple. “I mean… Yeah, I suppose.”

Woi’e, who had been sitting by the fire cave fire, stood up and hammered her fist to her chest. “Family’s everything, chief. You’re on your sixteenth year. It’s a good age to have your first.”

Aloo kept his earlier frown. “It’s just… I’ve not really thought about anything like that since, since pa got carried off. But, I mean… We gotta carry on our traditions, right?”

Duhwah and Woi’e nodded approvingly. “That’s right chief. So you’ll do it, then?”

Aloo nodded. “Ye--”

“Hold on! Are you discussing my boy’s marriage without me?!” came a yell from the cave mouth. The three turned to look at a semi-smiling Selenu, who went over and hugged Aloo tightly. “N’aaaaw! My little boy’s gunna get a girl and then get some pups! Your pa would’a been so proud!”

“M-ma! Not in front of my--eck!”

Selenu squeezed extra hard and pecked him on the scalp before letting go. “I have just the girl for ya, my boy. You know Agono?”

“The Agoh girl?” Duhwah asked. Woi’e shook her head.

“Oh, nah. Nah, nah, nah - the chief’s not taking an Agoh. Nuh-uh, nn-nn.”

Selenu put her fists on her hits. “Well, what do you suggest, then, Woi’e?”

The shieldboss crossed her arms over her chest triumphantly. “Isn’t it obvious? He should take a Woiwoi for wife! My sister and niece are both ready to mingle!”

“Your sister has almost thirty years and your niece is ten!” Selenu protested. Woi’e shrugged.

“Okay, so there are -some- complications, but--”

“No!” Aloo interrupted. Both of them turned to him and Woi’e hung her head. Aloo gave her a sheepish pat on the arm. “Don’t wanna be mean, Woi’e, but, uh… Someone my age, aight?”

Woi’e gave a defeated nod and the chief turned to Selenu. “Any other, ma?”

The woman tugged at her chin thoughtfully. “Weeeell… How about Duhwah’s--”

“Taken,” Duhwah interrupted with a headshake.

“Well, then I got nothing,” Selenu sighed.

“Could take a Yupa?” Woi’e suggested.

“No one there in the right age. They’re either far past twenty or below ten,” Duhwah explained.

Aloo groaned. “Guess I gotta wait a bit, huh--”

“Chieftain!” A man stood in the door, and the four knew him as Yup, head of the Yupa. Their faces conveyed worry and the chieftain spoke, “What? What is it, Yup?”

The well-groomed man swallowed. “Waves in the water, chief! Someone’s coming!” Duhwah and Woi’e’s eyes widened and Aloo put on a furious scowl.

“Darn Wogwehs dunno when to quit. Spears! Clubs! Shields! The sand gunna be red for weeks after I’m done with ‘em!”

“But chief! Some have gotten onto the beach!” Yup added. Aloo drew a panicked breath.

“And you didn’t come before?! How many are dead?!” The chieftain stomped towards the cave mouth, grabbing his spear on the way. Yup grabbed him by the chubby fur around his neck and kept him from charging ahead.

“That’s just it, chief. They, they come in peace!”

Aloo froze and turned; the others stopped preparing for war. “What did you say, Yup?”

“They’re not here to fight, chief, they’re… They’re here to join us.” They all exchanged glances and Aloo shrugged himself lose. He squeezed Yup’s shoulder in gratitude and turned to the others.

“Keep weapons ready in case it’s a plot.” He then went out, spear in hand, but not elevated. The others followed suit.

Outside, the whole of Hohm had gathered to behold the arrival of almost fifty new strangers. They were not painted like the Wuhdige - instead, they wore animal fur cloaks that were soaked and heavy from the water and carried with them sacks fashioned from beast stomachs. Aloo furrowed his brow and turned to Duhwah for advice. The champion nodded for him to do whatever and Aloo stabbed the butt end of his spear into the sand and said, “You stand on Wuhdige lands, strangers! You are welcome so long as you got no mean things in mind!”

One of the selka in front, an old woman, approached the chieftain flanked by a younger man and woman. “Then we’ve arrived at the right place. Ye’re the chieftain, then?” the old lady asked.

“Right place? Who are you?” Aloo demanded. Duhwah motioned for him to calm down. It was an older lady he was talking to, after all. Aloo nodded. “Sorry. Yes, I’m the chief. Aloo is my name. Who are you?”

The old lady smiled and held her arms out to the side. The young adults flanking her took each arm and slowly, the old lady bowed down before Aloo. The chieftain took a step back and said, “What’s this?”

“Chief Aloo,” the old lady said warmly, “we’ve traveled a long, long way to find ye and the Wuhdige.”

“Why?” Woi’e asked suddenly. The old lady turned her smile to the enormous woman.

“Because ye saved my people.”

Aloo blinked. “W-we did? We don’t even know you!”

The old lady chuckled. “No, ye probably wouldn’t. Our tribe isn’t as big as yers. These are all that’s left. We are the Patum, once of the holy land of Patumkam, and I am their leader, Toppoma. We used to have a great big plot - bigger than we could ever fill, but oh, did we try. We became many, but not enough. Didn’t take long for the Wogweh to snuff us out.”

“Wait, the Wogweh? You’ve met the Wogweh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Toppoma confirmed. “Fifty years ago, families kept coming to the chief’s, my father’s, home, telling of a gang of beasts making havoc on the fringes. So my father took his warriors and went out. No one came back.” She shook her head. “It didn’t take long after that before they came to our village. They killed most of our men and took most of our pups and women as prisoners. We were taken to Dun-ar-Wog where they did… Real mean things.”

The listeners’ faces paled. Aloo pressed his lips together and closed his eyes in rage. “The elders say they were so few. How did they get you all?”

“Against a hundred unarmed men, ten with spears and plans will win,” Toppoma mumbled forebodingly. “We had nothing to defend us with. Our attacks had no plans or system. We were like fish to them - ready for catching…”

Duhwah nodded. “We… We have met them on the field before. Their fightin’ plans are pretty smart.”

Toppoma nodded. “And even without a plan, they are disciplined and well-trained. We were taken instantly almost…” There was a pause before the old lady pointed a quivering, boney finger at Aloo’s face. The chieftain took a half-step back. “But then!” the old lady exclaimed and her helpers thought she was going to keel forward. “But then, we got news there in the slave pits of Dun-ar-Wog! A Wogweh ally, the Elu, had been defeated by a far off tribe called the Wuhdige, and among them was a dangerous, mighty warrior - Aloo, their chief!” Aloo swallowed as more of the Patum gathered around him with awe in their eyes.

“M-me, Toppoma?”

“That’s right!” the old lady said in a particularly strained voice and coughed dryly. “That’s right, son. The news changed it all. The Wogweh had never lost control of anywhere before. Even our holy Patumkam is under their control still. Nowhere had their dominance been questioned - until they came here, to yer island!”

Woi’e raised a hand and said, “Toppoma, our island is very big! We don’t even control half of it yet and--”

“Oh, but you don’t understand, girl,” the old lady cackled. “It was the victory, the victory that did it all! It gave us hope! It even scared the Wogweh for a time - enough time for them to look away when we escaped!” She clapped her boney hands together and the sound they made was painful to listen to. “We came to ye as fast as we could. Our holy Patumkam is still under Wogweh control, but, but we want to fight for it. Fight as ye did, Wuhdige.”

Aloo was at a loss for words. Whenever he tried to formulate sentences, they seemed to melt apart in his mouth. The Patum around him giggled at his dumbstruck expression and Toppoma reached out to squeeze his hand. “Heheheh, was it a bit much, maybe?”

Selenu stepped forward a bit. “We just got in a good deal of fish, actually, so we can probably feed y’all. But y’all gotta dig your own burrows.”

“Burrows?” the old lady asked herself and the Patum looked around on the beach to realise that the Wuhdige indeed slept in deep holes in the sand and dirt roofed with sticks, dirt and leaves. Their reactions ranged everywhere from giggles and sighs. Toppoma shook her head. “No, no need for that. We can make longhouses from the trees up ahead. Should do fine.”

“Longhouses?” Duhwah asked with a scratch of the head. The surrounding Wuhdige glanced at one another in confusion.

“That’s right!” said the young male helping Toppoma. “It’s a long hut that--ow!”

Toppoma shook the hand she had just slapped him with. “Shush when grandma’s talking, Pilomo! But yeah, it’s a long hut that houses many families in it - think our biggest back when I was a girl had five whole families in it.”

The Wuhdige gasped at the concept. “Wait, you put five families in a room that is not a cave?” Woi’e blurted out. “How?!”

“Why, by building it big,” said the old lady with a toothless grin, then cocked her head to the side a little. “Ye do built things, right?”

“W-we make igloos,” Selenu offered.

“Igloo? What’s that?” replied the old lady.

“It’s a house of snow,” said Aloo.

“Only really good for the winters then, isn’t it?” the old lady replied with pursed lips. “Tell ye what - ye let us stay, and we’ll make sure ye don’t have to sleep in burrows anymore. Sounds like a plan?”

Aloo looked to the others. They nodded with broad smiles. As did the other Wuhdige. Aloo turned back to Toppoma with a grin that threatened to carve his head in half. “Then you are welcome on our island!”

There was a resounding cheer and the old lady shuffled over to embrace Aloo amiably. In the following weeks, it didn’t take long for the Patum to get started. They were already very familiar with the tools used by the Wuhdige, and using Wuhdige paint, the Patum builders drew up schematics and materials on the walls for the selka to gather. With stone-bladed axes, the selka workers, now reinforced by a third of its previous numbers, began turning the woods into longhouses around Home Cave. The cave itself was upgraded with a wooden roof around the opening, making it for the first time possible for a subset of every Wuhdige family to sleep ‘within’ the cave. As winters came, some kept to the igloo tradition while others found that the longhouses worked just as well in snow as in rain, heliopolis or wind. To keep the larger longhouses extra warm during the winters, the roofs were insulated with thatch and dirt - the sand floor was covered in the furs of boars, bears, wolves and other beasts the increasingly bold selka hunters tracked down. In three years, the whole of Hohm had gone from holes in the ground scattered across a great beach to a small number of longhouses that together housed two whole tribes. Some became storage houses, and the Wuhdige quickly found that fruits, vegetables, legumes and dried fish kept much longer when not stored in burrows. Furthermore, at the request of old Toppoma, a distance away there was built a hut to function as a temple to their god, Patumkam-patum. There, the Patum went to pray every full moon, and while many Wuhdige found their traditions odd at first, what with an extreme respect for the elderly regardless of familial bonds and an emphasis on clothing, the two tribes seemed to blend quite well. As time went on, intermarriages took place, and Aloo himself ended up marrying the granddaughter of Toppoma, Kama. It was a joyous time, and Aloo found a peace of mind that he only truly had felt back when his family was whole. When Toppoma passed on four years after their arrival, her grandson Pilomo became the chieftain of the Patum, and lead them according to Aloo’s wishes. The two got along splendidly, and often competed in games or together in tag teams against others. It didn’t take long for Kama to bear children, and she and Aloo were soon blessed with triplets.

Then, the same year that Toppoma had passed, another group of Selka came to the shore. The last six years had been kind to the Wuhdige - fish had been plentiful, as had the fruits, nuts and vegetables of the woods. However, Aloo, Duhwah and Woi’e knew that if these came with the same intentions as the Patum once had, they would have to expand their reach even beyond.

Another twenty, these selka numbered. The Wuhdige and Patum numbered all in all nearly two hundred. To take them in would not only necessitate more houses, but also greater prospection into fishing grounds and fruit trees. Aloo, nowadays donning the fur cloak of his wife’s culture, stepped out of his cave with his bone spear in hand. Flanked he was by Duhwah, Woi’e, Pilomo and Selenu. The newcomers were dressed much in the same way as the Wuhdige once had - loincloths of fur without much else. However, instead of spears, most of them had odd curved sticks where the tips were held together by one strained string. On their hips, many of them had long wicker pipes, almost, filled with more sticks. Most interesting, perhaps, was that a number of the newcomers remained at the beach while a subset approached the chieftain. Those that remained on the beach seemed to be tending to some animals, and upon closer inspection, the Wuhdige noticed that they were seals.

Aloo eyed the barking seals with a mixture of a smile and a frown on his face. He had of course seen a multitude of seals in his admittedly short life, but they were competition in the sea - friendly competition, of course. Killing seals felt very wrong, after all - it was almost like killing a distant cousin. His eyes turned away from the seals for a moment to look upon the approachers. It was a giant of a selka, nearly every fiber boasting strength and might. Across his chest a tight string dug into his skin, connected as it was to a mighty branch on his back. He was flanked by two smaller females, though neither of these could truly be considered small - one of them rivaled the size of Woi’e, and Aloo could tell from her expression that she was not happy about it. The giant gave Aloo a deep bow and asked, “Are you Aloo, chieftain of the Wuhdige tribe?”

Aloo tried his best to appear impartial to the giant’s size, his every instinct telling him to at least consider flight. “I am, good stranger, and who’s you?”

The giant straightened himself up and hammered his chest proudly. “I am Kameyameya, chieftain of the Byuto tribe. We have traveled far, and further than far, in search of the great warrior Aloo - the man they say took down six greater men armed with spears while he himself was unarmed!”

Aloo gulped. “W-well, to be fair, Duhwah helped me.” He thumbed over to his champion, who grinned.

“Hardly!” Duhwah protested. “He’s bein’ modest, friends! Aloo’s a proper wrestler and better warrior!” Aloo shrunk a little while his skin reddened. Kameyameya thundered a roaring laughter, as did the women flanking him.

“Hah! No need to be shy, young chieftain! Greatness should be boasted about, not hidden! I myself have taken a hundred skulls - a hundred, I say! How many have you taken?”

“Wait, skulls?” Aloo asked. Kameyameya nodded.

“‘Course, chief. Us Byuto are descendants of the war god Byuto! Glory, they promise, glory numbered in collected skulls and wives!”

Pilomo frowned. “I take it it’s selka skulls you collect?” To their surprise, Kameyameya shook his head.

“No, no, not just! Sure, Byuto in their rage may crave some selka skulls every now and then, but to Byuto, survival is also a war! We wage war against death!”

“Against death!” the women behind him echoed proudly. Aloo found himself smiling a little.

“So of these hundred skulls, many’s animal skulls?”

Kameyameya pointed to a wolf-skull on a think sinew string around his neck. “That’s right, chief! Above all, us Byuto stalk the woods and seas in search of prey so we can beat back that nasty death for another week! Against death, HOO-HAH!”

“HOO-HAH!” the women echoed. Aloo clapped excitedly along and thundered his own “hoo-hah!” Woi’e lowered her brows suspiciously.

“Did you just come here to join our chieftain because he’s a great warrior?” she asked and Kameyameya’s beaming grin faded. His eyes darkened and he shook his head.

“No… No, as much as I wish that was the case, friends.” He gestured down to the beach. “You see how few we are. In truth, we used to be many more - lots of strong lads and pretty women. But… There’s a mean, mean foe on the other side of the strait - one that even our Byuto blood can’t help us best.”

Pilomo drew a shivering breath and nodded. “The Wogweh, correct?”
Kameyameya nodded. “We’ve faced beasts taller than trees and fish larger than a selka, but never have we faced someone with a mind like Roganweh. I remember it clearly, the day, that fateful day,” he drew a quick breath, “we were outside. Camp was just being packed up. To hide from the Wogweh raiders earlier, we had taken refuge deep in the woods. I… I still don’t know how they did it. Our bows gives us advantage far away, but they somehow snuck up on us through bushes and leaves and broken branches. We were beaten in a heartbeat. Those that made it off managed to get to the sea where our seals were waiting for us. We had heard rumours of your victory against them for a long time, son. We knew there was hope across the strait.

So we came.”

Aloo felt the almost decade old hatred resurface. A black bile of rage boiled in his belly. “How do they do it? How does such a small tribe manage to kill so many? Ruin so much?”

“It’s the will of Kirron, they say,” one of the ladies behind Kameyameya offered. The giant stepped to the side and gestured to the both of them.

“Oh, right - these are my wives, Oklahoma and Tutonkha. Oklahoma used to be a Wogweh slave until we broke her out of the camp.”

Selenu frowned. “Wives?”

Kameyameya nodded. “Byuto encourages the strong to take as many mates as they can! The pack forms around the strongest, and the strongest breed stronger!”

“Can’t argue with that,” Duhwah agreed and Selenu shot him a disappointed frown.

Tutonkha thumbed over her shoulder. “Gopapa has three husbands. She’s over there on the beach.” Selenu traced her thumb to see another monster of a selka down on the beach as expected. A scarred female towered over the others, even as she knelt to feed an adorable white seal pup a small piece of fish. Selenu swallowed nervously.

“When you say the will of Killon,” Aloo said to get the conversation back on track, “what do you mean?”

Oklahoma sighed and shook her head. “They’re blood-priests, the lot of them. Slaves have three fates in Dun-ar-Wog: either die in the fighting pits to please Kirron; work until death; or just become a blood sacrifice directly to Him. Arganweh, their chieftain, claims to be an oracle of Kirron, and he keeps legions of slave soldiers loyal with fear.”

Aloo shook his head in disbelief. “How--... How can one selka keep control of so many? Can’t they just take him down?”

Oklahoma shook her head dejectedly and the two others hung their heads in defeat. “He has Kirron on his side. One day, there was a revolt against him. Ten slaves attacked the chieftain’s stronghold and broke inside. However, no one came out. According to the rumours, they were burned alive by Kirron’s wrath.”

“B-burned alive?” Pilomo barely dared to utter. Oklahoma nodded.

“They say the chieftain called for Kirron’s aid and shot a blast of fire out of his bare hands. The rebels were turned to ash that same moment. The next morning, Roganweh, his brother,” Oklahoma noted Aloo’s darkened expression, “who it looks like you’ve met… Well, he came to the slave pits the next day and cast their ashes over us, saying that such was the price for rebellion.”

The Wuhdige exchanged worried glances. “O-out of his bare hands, how?!” Duhwah exclaimed. Oklahoma sighed.

“It’s the will of Kirron,” she repeated. “That’s what kept them all in line.”

Aloo gave the three an inquisitive look. “Well, if they have the Red Boy on their side, what gives you hope? Why do y’all come here where they could attack you?”

Kameyameya reached out to squeeze Aloo’s shoulder. “Because you give us hope, son. All rebellion has ended the same way - those that have tried to defend their lands have been destroyed by Roganweh’s battleplans; those that have rebelled against Arganweh in their camps have been burned to crisps. But you, your tribe has withstood an invasion and shown that there are flaws in their plans.” The giant lowered himself to one knee - as did his wives. “We want to help. We want Byuto’s bone debt to be paid - for every Byuto skull the Wogweh have claimed, so shall we claim Wogweh skulls. We won’t be a hassle to ya, son - we bring with us our bows, seals and skills - all to be shared in exchange for a place in your tribe.”

Aloo looked over at the group in the distance again and then back at Kameyameya. “Well, alright, then. Pilomo.” Pilomo nodded and Aloo said, “let us build another longhouse, this one not too far from Home Cave. Made it able to house all twenty of the Byuto.”

“Yes, chieftain,” Pilomo said and walked off. Aloo looked up at the grinning face of the giant and held out his hand.

“I hope your skill with that bow is as good as your skill with words,” he said and the giant thundered another laugh, squeezing the chieftain’s hand nearly until the bones popped.

“How about I give you some lessons so you can be as good as me, huh?”

So it was that the Byuto joined the Wuhdige and the Patum. Integration was a little rough at first: Kameyameya and Gopapa made frequent attempts to woo Wuhdige and Patum males and females, and their enormous frames made the wrestling tournaments rather one sides much to Duhwah, Woi’e and Aloo’s despair. However, months became years, and as four years had passed, the three tribes had found the balances between their cultures: The Wuhdige moved their sacrifice to Lugo if it fell on a Patum prayer day; the Byuto kept their polygamous and polyandrous relationship closed off within their own tribe; and the Patum learned not to comment on the Wuhdige’s tradition for living in igloos in the winter. Both the Byuto and the Wuhdige learned to respect Patum elders and to make fur cloaks; the Wuhdige and the Patum began to collect animal skulls to please the Byuto; and both the Byuto and the Patum engaged in Wuhdige games and learned to put great emphasis on family.

The Byuto seals became a powerful tool in fishing, the seals functioning as fetchers and hunters that dove much deeper than the selka. Their bows became essential in hunting, and their wicker quivers opened to the Wuhdige a whole new world of wicker craftsmanship. The larders and drying racks grew fuller than ever, and with the additions of Byuto hunted meats, the selka in Hohm ate like never before. Hohm expanded and new hunting camps and the like were founded around the island.

Aloo thought back to the faithful victory against the Elu ten years ago. Thanks to that fateful night, their tribe had tripled in size in ten years; they were harvesting more food than ever before; and with Patum houses and Byuto bows, they became a civilisation to be reckoned with.

The chieftain swore to himself that, for as long as he lived, he would see to it that the Wuhdige, Byuto and Patum could achieve their retribution against the Wogweh, and one day live in peace from the great shadow stretching from the mainland.

For now, though, there was peace to be had - a prosperous future of love and family, just like the last ten years.

SummaREE!

Yeah 1: Aloo and the rest have just beaten the Elu. The Wuhdige settle in for peace.
Year 2: The Wuhdige have expanded with new berry picker camps and fishing grounds that are manned all year round. They’ve made more complex stone tools and stuff. That same year, they receive a new tribe in the fold: the Patum. The Patum come from Patumkam and worship a god named Patumkam-patum. Their holy land Patumkam was attack by the Wogweh and they heard that the Wuhdige beat the Wogweh back. Thus they unite and give the Wuhdige longhouses, fur cloaks and 50 new selka.
Year 6: Aloo is married to a Patum girl. They get another new tribe called the Byuto, who are hunters and warriors who worship the war god they are descended from, Byuto. They, too, have a bone to pick with the Wogweh, and the chieftain Kameyameya’s wife, Oklahoma, tells the Wuhdige that the Wogweh have power because their chieftain, Arganweh, can control fire with his hands. The Byuto bring with them bows, wicker, pet seals and 20 new selka.
Things are great and stuff is learned!

New Characters

Toppoma, deceased chieftain of the Patum.
Pilomo, chieftain of the Patum, grandson of Toppoma.
Kama, wife of Aloo, granddaughter of Toppoma.
Kameyameya, chieftain of the Byuto.
Oklahoma, first wife of Kameyameya.
Tutonkha, second wife of Kameyameya.
Gopapa, warrioress of the Byuto.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Clouds Across Great Moksha’s Shine

Wenbo sat silently on a carpet on the veranda of the city palace. By his feet his crown had been neatly placed and the great golden mantle laid not too distantly from it again. The dreamer lord had a slow, steady breath; his eyes were fixed on the great bright mist in the sky. A myriad of worries and anxieties filled his mind and with a strained wince, he focused all his concentration into drowning them out. Moksha had shown him a multitude of sights and played a symphony of sounds. There was laughter, song, grunts and sighs, and one thunderous guffaw stood out in particular, a cheerful bass that seemed to vibrate the very bones of its listeners. Wenbo snorted out two quick shoots of air and felt that familiar itch in his nose that always seemed to come whenever he meditated on Moksha. Two fingers dabbed his orange-ringed eye and Wenbo shook his head with a weak snicker.

“Hey, Chaggie… Wouldn’t be possible for you to pass down some leadership tips from up there, would it?

Moksha didn’t reply much, Wenbo had found, but there was a certain joy in the hope that up there, in God’s grace, his beloved brother was listening. A pang of longing slammed into his chest like a hammer and Wenbo nearly felt the need to cough. He cleared his throat instead and went into a routine kowtow.

“... To my God, I offer my faith; to my family, my love. I miss you all, and will see you when my time here has come to an end.”

A faint green wink of light flickered in the nebula and Wenbo felt another sting in the nose. He stood up and dusted off his knees before collecting the mantle and the crown and heading into his bedroom.

“Wenbo, dear?” came Ai’s voice from the changing room.

“Yes, love?” replied Wenbo absent-mindedly as he placed the mantle on a clay mannequin.

“Have you seen Bean Bun anywhere?” The alabaster-haired face peeked out from the curtain-covered doorway. Wenbo hummed.

“Nnnno… Not for a few hours, anyway. Maybe he’s in the wine cellar again?”

Ai gave a light groan and went back inside. “Could you go check? I’d rather not have him drink the wine we’ve been saving for Yongqi’s marriage.”

Wenbo clicked his tongue. “A fair point. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Oh, and check on Bei, too, would you? She’s so nervous for her speech.”

“I will, I will.” The dreamer lord put on his wicker sandals and pushed aside the wood-and-paper slider door to the hallway, bringing with him a torch.
The hallway’s darkness fled before the flickering light of the torch as Wenbo made his way down the complicated maze of corridors and empty rooms. He could never remember which ones everyone had moved into, and it annoyed him that only a subset of his children and grandchildren had bothered to hang up namesigns on their doors. The further he went, the more the doors and rooms seemed to blend into one another. Finding Bei’s room in the darkness would take ages.

He would head to the cellars first. At least then, he had some scent to follow.

---

“It’s a profound joy to be given the honour of holding this speech to my--... No, no, no, that’s so convoluted…”

Wen Bei rubbed her bloodshot eyes. She had spent days writing this speech for her precious nephew, little Yongqi who in many ways had been just as much her own son as it was her brother’s. He was in his late teens now, and set to wed the beautiful young Changchun. Bei hoped she could still rely on him to come by every now and then and help her with the harvest and the baking. Oh, and babysit little Rende and Kongrong. In a multitude of different ways, she wanted to thank him - but to condense all of these into a simple speech was much harder than the lady had thought it would be. She took another deep breath and started over:

“It’s a profound joy to speak my love, no, appreciation? No, no, uhm… Ugh…” She put down her script again. She looked over her shoulder to see her husband, Jochi, droning a quiet snore. She sighed and went over to their window. She looked up to the green mists of Moksha and closed her eyes. Calm violins filled the room around her; the sugary scent of sweetgrass tickled at her nostrils; distant giggles of old friends and family echoed in the corners of her mind. A tranquil warmth lazed its way through her body and Bei felt her legs buckle slightly.

The wedding was still a few days off. She stole a glance at the bed again. She could allow her mind some rest, she thought.

---

There it was again. The jerk of neck, ab and back muscles as the body realises it’s about to keel over. Snap, he had fallen asleep on guard again! Wen Tian slapped his cheek in frustration and scanned the multitude of wine pots he could see from his stool. Snapping-- He was the second oldest son of Wenbo and Ai and he would be damned before some snooping cloudling got into the pots on his wa--

”Pop-pop…”

Tian jerked to his feet and grabbed the small pot of sour wine next to his stool. He pulled off the cloth lid and slowly snook his way between the tall wine pots in the dark room. He squinted as hard as he could, the dark outlines of pots, shelves and lids sharpening a little bit.

One lid in particular seemed a little too bloated.

Carefully, Tian shuffled up to the bloated lid and, holding ready the pot of sour wine, gave the lid a poke.

There came an eggy burp from the pot and Tian winced with a quiet “ugh”. No, that was just fermentation at work.

”Zzt!”

Tian spun around. A couple of pots away, a translucent shape drifted slowly up from under a half-open lid. It popped suspiciously at the surroundings and Tian shouted, “Aw, snap-- Bean Bun!”

The cloudling spun about and gave a chuckle-like pop before soaring off. Tian gave chase, nearly tipping a number of pots in the process. He wafted his hand over the sour wine to spread the smells, but the cloudling didn’t seem interested. However, Tian knew he had him cornered, for Bean Bun was heading towards the door in the corner.

And the door was locked!

“It’s over, Bean Bun! You have nowhere to run!” Tian exclaimed triumphantly and made himself as big as he could by stretching out his arms and taking a wide stance with his legs.

The cloudling had no face, but its bewilderment was evident in its ”Pop?” Tian slowly closed in, a victorious smirk on his lips.

Then the door swung open and a blinding light set the wine cellar aflame with radiance. Tian fell backwards to the ground, dropping the pot of wine to the floor with a hollow, lucky thunk! He threw his hands up in defense and bellowed, “LIGHT! AGONY! AAAAAGH!”

“Tian, son, what’re you doing?” came a confused voice.

Tian uncovered his face and scrambled to his feet. As his eyes adjusted to the flickering flame, he recognised the slightly worried frown of his father. Tian dusted himself off and grinned. “Oh! Hey, dad! Uh, nothing! Just… Guarding the wine! As per your instructions.”

Wenbo pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s, uhm… Great! Say, have you… Been sitting in here all night?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Gotta, gotta protect the wine, you know. Just doing my duty, dad.”

“Naturally, son, but… You sure you wouldn’t want some fresh air? Maybe a bite to eat?”

“Thanks, but no thanks, dad! I must keep my keen eye on these pots so no cloudlings get-- Oh no!” Tian sidestepped Wenbo and looked up the stairwell. Bean Bun was nowhere to be found. “... Bean Bun got away…”

“Oh, so he was in here?” Wenbo asked with a hum.

“Yeah… And now he’s gone…” Tian said in deep defeat.

Wenbo patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tian. Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t happen to know which pot Bean Bun drank from?”

Tian shook his head. “It was dark. They all look the same in the shadows.”

Wenbo huffed and went over to the pots with his torch, inspecting each of the lids. When he came across the half-open one, he snickered and stuck his hand inside. Tian came over to see and after a few moments of Wenbo rummaging inside, there came a surly “Zzt!” Out of the pot came a small flock of newborn cloudlings, some of which buried themselves in Wenbo and Tian’s black hair. Wenbo shook the wine off his hand and chuckled; Tian stared at the crowd of cloudlings on his father’s head and poked the pile on his own.

“Oh, well,” Wenbo said with a snicker. “I suppose it’s fine if we don’t get completely knock-out drunk at the wedding.”

Tian hung his head. “Are you ashamed of me, dad?”

Wenbo scoffed and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Ashamed of my son for something like this? I’m not His Lordship, blessings upon Him. No, if you think I’ll scold my thirty year old son for this like you were some toddler, then you’re overthinking this.”

Tian gave a weak chuckle. “Heh… Yeah. I, uh, I think I ought to head to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan, son,” Wenbo agreed. “Say good night to Shenmei for me, would you?”

“If she’s not already asleep. Thanks, dad.” With drowsy steps, the second oldest son shuffled up the dark stairwell towards his room, the cloudlings on his head lazily hitching a ride and popping gleefully all the way.

---

“WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” came a squeal from the next room. Wen De’s groggy eyes opened with reluctance and he poked the shape of his wife.

“Chunhua, could you--”

“Nuh-uh,” came a defiant voice. De deflated.
“Pleeeeeaaase?”

“I did it last night…” Chunhua insisted and curled up further under the thin blanket. De gave a groan.

“Fine… I’ll be right back.” The youngest of Wenbo’s sons sat up on the side of the bed, did a half-hearted stretch and stood up, shuffling into the next room. The squeals had doubled now, as the first twin had awoken his brother and now the two were having a fight to see who could scream the loudest. De dragged his feet over to their bed and groaned again.

“Heeeey, kids… What’s going on?”

They slowly quieted down and Yun said, “Tu scared me!”

“I had a nightmare!” the little Tu defended. De squatted down next to be bed and amiably stroked his son’s head.

“What kind of nightmare, son?”

Tu pouted. “It-... It had Yun in it, and it had the fall, and, and, and… Yun got hurt again, and then a big meanie roar came and, and--”

De sighed and gave him a hug. “Hey, it’s alright. Yun’s fine, right, Yun?”

“I’m thirsty,” the little boy complained.

“Okay, so fine soon, but no hurt anywhere, right? No broken arm again?”

Yun waved his right arm about and shook his head. “No, don’t think so.”

“See, Tu? Your brother’s fine, and the roaring? That’s just Chuanwang, you know. He’s just an old tortoise and he’s really nice.”

“He’s really scary,” Tu insisted. “What if he eats me? Or you and mommy? Or Yun?”

De sat down on the edge of the bed and ruffled the hair of them both. “Hey, listen - Chuanwang won’t eat any of us. He doesn’t like Dreamers, he’s-... He’s vegetarian.”

“What’s vedgetaran?” Yun asked.

“It means he only eats vegetables, like grampa Wenbo.”

“Are there vegetables that big, dad?”

De shrugged. “Maybe? I’d like to find out some day, too, really.” He gave them each a peck on the forehead. “Go back to sleep now, boys. We’ll be in the next room as always.” He tucked the twins in under the blanket. “Good ni--”

“POP!”

De turned around and the twins sat back up. “Was that Noodle?” Tu asked curiously.

“No, Noodle says ‘zzt’, not ‘pop’,” Yun corrected and Tu hummed. De went over to the window and looked out. A smile cracked across his face and he beckoned to the twins.

“Boys, come see this.”

The twins looked at each other, then quickly got out of bed and hurried over to the windowsill. Outside, across the green streak of Moksha, a swarm of cloudlings followed a slightly darker one, one they immediately recognised as Bean Bun. The boys giggled in amusement as the stressed little cloudling was seemingly chased down and possibly interrogated by its friends about where it had found all that sweet-smelling wine. De put a hand on the shoulders of each of the boys and smiled.

“Remember to thank Lord K’nell for giving us cloudlings now, boys.”

“Thank you, Lord K’nell,” the twins echoed along with their dad and the three remained staring at the spectacle for a slight while longer.

Summary!

Wenbo’s thinking about Moksha and is having some anxieties about his leadership. Moksha doesn’t respond much, but he’s happy to get it off his chest. As he’s about to go to bed, Ai asks him to check if he’s seen their cloudling Bean Bun. Wenbo hasn’t, so they conclude he might be in the wine cellar. Wenbo heads down.

Perspective switches to Wen Bei, who’s pretty nervous about a speech for her nephew’s wedding. As she consults Moksha about it, Moksha tells her through music and tranquility that she should rest and instead work on it the day after, rather than stress herself out.

Perspective switch to Wen Tian who’s on guard in the cellar. He wakes up after having fallen asleep, only to find that there has been a breach and that Bean Bun’s drinking from the wedding wine. He tries to catch it and even corners it at one point, but Wenbo enters with a torch and blinds Wen Tian who’s been sitting in the dark. Wenbo asks if his son is fine and after some chatting, Tian comes to the conclusion that he should go to bed. Bean Bun has spawned a bunch of cloudlings, though, and these take refuge on both their heads.

Perspective shift to Wen De who has to put his twins back to sleep. Tu’s had a nightmare and woke up Yun, too, so De soothes them both. The post ends with all three of them watching Bean Bun get chased by other cloudlings.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The Following Ten Years

“Next!”

Hectore’s voice thundered throughout the dark throne room. The endless line of complaint-carrying citizens of Asteria barely shortened as the next individual stepped up to the throne. Polyastera let out a quiet snore and Philia timidly poked her back to life. The queen quickened to and blinked, then fixed a glare on the approaching woman. She had completely lost count of how many she had heard today. This whole complaint line idea had been Pallason’s idea - given that the number of people unsatisfied with the utter lack of luxuries had increased dramatically over the past several months.

“I am queen Polyastera, queen of the blah-blah-blah, you’ve heard it a million times already. What do you want?”

Woman frowned back and bowed. “Well, Polly, it’s--”

“-My queen-!”

“Well, -my queen-,” the woman corrected sourly, “I’ve come to ask about the new beds you promised to distribute, and--”

“Yes, well, it’s not quite in the budget - sorry!”

The woman didn’t even look surprised. She hung her head and nodded. “As expected.” She stood up and spat on the floor. “You should have never been cr--UGH!”

The woman dropped lifelessly to the floor. Behind her, a guard hung his blackjaw from his belt and, together with a colleague, lifted the woman up and took her away. Those behind her didn’t even seem to care, and many shook their heads at the woman’s stupidity. Hectore sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I will repeat - to insult the queen is to insult the people. Speak up against our queen Polyastera and your corpse will fuel the Twillight Forge. Next!”

The lines continued not to shrink, surly, exhausted Nebulites soullessly bringing their queries before the queen for another few hours. It was unlikely that any of them truly cared for what they were complaining about - every day went to work in the shoddy fields or on the River God’s temple - any outlet for their anger and frustration was warmly welcome.

Polyastera put a hand on her protruding belly and sucked in a furious breath. She had sent the last one to the Forge simply out of spite. In the beginning, there had been a certain rush in it - a joy even: the thrill of power of another’s life. The feeling had grown stale much too quickly, though - even as her cronies and followers had been armed with divine weaponry to enslave the rest of their population; in fact, such power over the majority had dulled the feeling further.

However, while sadistic joys grew stale, the harvests and hunts brought in tons of food even in their disorganised states, and Polyastera and her friends ate like the royalty they were - and as the pregnancy caused her body to store more fat, her opulent lifestyle started showing.

She pushed herself out of her throne and went to her chambers. There, Hectore was already waiting for her at the window overlooking the tiers below. He gave a groan and turned to Polyastera.

“Eight. That’s how many rose up against you today.”

“And now they’re gone,” Polly soothed and pecked him on the mouth. “You did well, my love. How did the fishing trip go?”

Hectore pursed his lips. “Well, the good news is--”

“There are bad news?”

“A few.”

“Well, what are they?”

“There have been delays again with the stone for the construction, but that wasn’t really relevant to the fishing question.”

Polyastera grit her teeth and stalked over to a bowl-like stone in which her cronies had managed to reproduce something that gave a faint sensation like wine-induced drunkenness. The taste was appalling, but at least there came a buzz after a number of cups. As her widening hips showed, Polyastera had been drinking buckets of late.

“Always, always - ALWAYS! They know -DAMN- well we cannot start construction without the stone and yet they have the audacity to delay…” She chugged the sorry excuse for wine and stormed over to the window. “Get Laurien - I want her and a hundred more to show those disgustingly lazy stonemongerers that when Polyastera wants her stone, she will get her stone.”

Hectore sighed. “You know we can’t kill them all. There’d be no one left to--”

“We won’t kill them, Hectore - we’ll just show them that we’ll do whatever it takes to finish that stupid temple!” She gasped for breath and held a hand on her chest. “Sorry… Just… Go find Laurien, please.”

Hectore nodded slowly. “Yes, my queen.” Then he walked off.

---

Laurien sat outside in the shade of her balcony. It overlooked the lower tiers, and the hustle of daily life for the Nebulites. It did not sit so high as the palace and in fact, was on the other side of the tier. Far removed from Polly's failures, and just how she liked it. Her own home, with a garden in bloom and even a small pool. Surrounding her on the balcony was her, and littered about her home in various states, were her own personal lovers and servants. Cassie was chief among them, the flame girl was simply infatuated with her and Laurien would not have it any other way.

There were various others who had proven their loyalty for her, even before the Queen but that was their little secret.

She let out a pleasant sigh and leaned back as the hot air hit her scantily clad body. "Inaris, bring me more of that juice they call wine, please." she cooed softly to the shimmering green Nebulite. He wasn't the sharpest tool but he did have his uses.

"Right away Laurien." He said nodding. Laurien watched him go, a smirk on her face as she turned to Cassie, who was making out with a tan colored Nebulite she did not know. She cleared her throat and Cassie reluctantly pulled herself away from her companion.

"Yes Laurien?"

"What are the doves singing this morning?" she smiled knowingly.

"Many things my Lady. Unrest is growing, the luxuries offered are not being given, more people are being sacrificed and the stone for the temple is delayed. There's not much else sung this day." Cassie said with a giggle.

Inaris then returned and gave Laurien a large cup. "Thank you Inaris." she said before taking a sip. The news wasn't a large surprise, there were far too many promises to keep after all and it would be her job to fix them. It was always her job. And if she wanted to protect her livelihood, then she would have to do it.

Another Nebulite streaked through the door, wearing nothing but his deep purple skin. "My lady, Hectore is here."

Laurien sighed, of course he was.

The well-groomed hunter seemed to reluctantly enter Laurien’s sanctum. It was evident that he was on a mission from the queen and would have otherwise never set foot here, judging from the way he distanced himself coldly from those around him. Still, he greeted Laurien with a half-bow and said, “Lady Laurien, good day. Her Majesty requests your aid once more.”

Laurien put on her best smile for Hectore and nodded. "And I will gladly answer." she said, rising. She outstretched her hand and Aaldir came, weaving between the Nebulites and surprising a few. "What might be the problem, Queen's Hunter?" she asked.

The hunter sighed. “That would be the quarry workers again. There have been another set of delays. Her Majesty beseeches you to take a section of the guard and see to it that the stoneworkers will not suffer such unfortunate holdbacks again.”

She nodded. "Anything for our Queen. I will go at once." she said, her armor appearing. She turned to Cassie, "See to it that a bath is ready for my return."

Cassie nodded, "Of course my lady."

"Thank you, darling." she then turned to Hectore, her helmet covering her face in an instant. "Shall we?"

“So we shall, my Lady. Please, come with me.” The hunter took off and together with Laurien, they flew down towards the lower tiers.

The city hadn’t even existed for a year and already the lower tiers had accumulated a foul, slum-like stink. The bulk of the Nebulites had been thrown down here, oppressed and kept down by the superior weaponry of the royal guards. The twilight-forged blades and spears of the guards quelled any meagre attempt at rebellion, and of all the professions in the city save for noble, Polyastera made certain to pay her guards the most.

A hundred had assembled before Hectore and Laurien. They were clothed in simple skins of the river crocodiles and armed with twilight-forged batons, white, black and sparkled with the blood of executed rebels. They greeted the two with a sounding “hail!” and awaited their orders. Hectore gave Laurien a nod and said, “We will move swiftly and bring quick justice. The construction of the temple cannot be delayed.”

”Death should be a secondary punishment. Only used at the last resort. We need those workers, and If anyone of you lapses in this, you will take the place of the deceased. Move out.” Laurien commanded.

The company took off into the air and soared as a swarm of bloodthirsty wasps towards the quarries upriver. It took barely an hour to get there, and by the time they arrived, it was evident that they had been spotted. The stoneworkers had lined up at the quarry entrance, anxious and nervous expressions across every face. Some tried to run, but were swiftly gathered up by the others for fear of the group being punished for the individual’s cowardice.

The company landed and the stonemaster, Eclipsion, came scuttling over rubbing his hands nervously.

“G-good day, Lady Laurien, Huntsmaster Hectore - wuh-what brings you here to our humble--”
“Silence, Eclipsion, you know why we’re here,” Hectore spat oppressively. The stonecarver faltered instantly.

“W-we… We tried. We really tried, Huntsmaster, but the stone, it’s--... It’s too heavy to move by hand! We, we need more workers!”

Hectore looked at the sorry excuses for blocks of stone that were already worn with damage from being rolled and pushed over rough rock and sanding sand. “Have you tried flying them back?”

“They are much too heavy, Huntsmaster!” Eclipsion insisted. Hectore snarled and looked at the river down the valley. He pointed to it.

“What’s that, Eclipsion?”

“That would be the river, Huntsmaster.”

“Yes. Have you tried using -that- as a means of transportation?”

“B-but… Rocks don’t float, Huntsmaste--”

“Of course, they don’t!” Hectore snapped and grabbed the stonecarver by the collar. “I know rocks don’t float, you imbecile! However, His Lordship’s boat floated on water, even with all of us on it. Try making something similar for the stones.” He released Eclipsion and the crafter gave an anxious, thoughtful hum.

“W-well… It may be possible, uhm… In a week, we could--”

“Three days,” Hectore demanded. The stonecarvers quivered. “Three days, and the stone will be waiting by the river at Laurienna.”

"I will see to it that a solution for the lack of workers is found. We cannot let this project tarry. His Lordship will return, and we must be ready for him. The people of Laurienna are counting on you. On all of you. Do not let them and our Queen down." Laurien said sternly, pacing back and forth.

“Oh! Oh, thank you, beautiful Lady Laurien! Thank you!” Eclipsion praised. Hectore nodded.

“We will camp here for the night. Tell us if you require any aid in your mission, my Lady,” Hectore said with a curt bow.

"I require your best scouts and any information on who else inhabits this land of ours." Laurien said proudly.

Hectore frowned in bewilderment at the suggestion, but nodded. “So be it, then. Helio, Urana, Cosmus, Nova, Satur - you heard the Lady. Fall in.” The five scouts lined up behind Laurien dutifully.

She led them a short distance away before turning around. The sun beat down on top of them, but beneath her helmet, she smiled wickedly. "So tell me, in your travels, have you ever run into something that walked on two legs, and wasn't a nebulite?"

All five of them shook their heads. The lady known as Urana said, “No, my Lady - only four-legged beasts and wildlife. That said, we haven’t dared fly too far into the desert.”

She frowned behind her helmet. Disappointing, but nothing that couldn't be dealt with. "It is paramount that you find another race, or any sign of intelligent life besides us. Fly up the river, fly down the river, fast until you find something that can be useful to me. When you do, I shall reward you personally. Now go, for the good of the Empire."

“Yes, my Lady,” the five of them echoed and soared into the sky.

Laurien watched them go. They would either find someone or they wouldn't. For the good of her wellbeing, she hoped they did. They had too.

---

The temple to Shengshi neared the halfway mark to its completion. Where it sat next to the royal palace, it already stood at its height, and would only continue to grow. The masons had begun to carve the sandstone with intricate patterns, images of stars and the gods, but chief among them, was his Lordship and his benevolence. Outside the temple, the pillars were being constructed in front of the opening. They had realized that no wooden door would ever fit, and thus, a long rock overhang stretched out before it, nearing completion. Inside the temple, there would be a great bust of his Lordship, hands outstretched. The walls would be decorated with pictures of rivers, and other running bodies of water. It would be the jewel of the empire, after all. It had to please.

They had five more years left to complete it, and for once, things were on schedule. With the renewed help that she had promised, production had continued with renewed haste. It had not been long after, that they had found them living like savages in the desert. The giants of flame, who she knew to be from a dark god, now called by the Nebulites, Dari. They were only beginning to understand their language, but the Dari quickly learned the meaning of a sword and the whip. It had not been easy, for they were giants and their children were nimble and quick. Slowly a strategy was born to capture them. Nebulite troops swarmed one of the giants, biting them with their spears until they yielded. The smaller ones, it was just a matter of coercion and threats, which were shared it seemed, through actions.

Soon after the first Dari slaves were brought into the Empire, a market popped up for trading and bartering of these slaves. Small as it was at first, Laurien did not realize how quickly it would grow. There was a demand for the smaller Dari, the ones more suited smaller, every work. They were not the servants, nor did they have any decorum or manners, but they would work, or be forced too. They had a temper in them at first, but after a time, and after the fire cooled in their blood at the threat of water, the Dari were beginning on the path to timidness.

Laurien did not relish what she had to do to ensure her people’s survival, but after a time she became numb to it, or so she thought. Aaldir began to whisper to her, making her want to cause pain. For Aaldir craved more, he craved [i]ichor[/] but the blood of the fallen would suffice. She could resist it, she knew that, but killing became far to easy. It became better when the soldiers learned how to suffice without her, but from time to time, Polyastera still gave her tasks to complete. But Polly was another matter entirely.

The Nebulite woman had grown bored of the Queen. Her once-slim figure had been ruined by stress, food and children - if you could call the little monsters that. Laurien had begun to avoid the queen at all costs, only seeing her in person if she demanded her presence. Even then, her status as a concubine meant she had to… Deal with it.
Concubine… No, she was so much more than that.

The pitter patter of small feet and giggles startled her from her fixation on the temple construction. She blinked and turned around to see her two small children playing. Andromeda was the oldest of the two, at four. A girl child of inky black skin, coated with white stars and light red swirls. Her hair started black, but faded to silver at the tips. Silver… She loved the color. Her father had been Satur, one of the scouts that found the Dari. He ventured out on a scouting trip a year ago now, but Laurien knew he would not return. Phoset, her two year old was a boy child of deep purple, almost black. He had no stars upon his small body. His hair was also the same, but glowed softly. Laurien did not know who his father was, not that it mattered anyways.

She loved her children, as any mother would, but they did not stop her from living her lavish style. She provided everything for them, so that they could live good lives, but she would not spoil them. She refused to have her children grow up with everything that they wanted at a beck and call. They would learn to take for themselves what they wanted, and earn it. For now, they could play to their heart's content. She smiled as she watched them, her thoughts flickering to her own sibling. She did wonder how Arya was doing, but knew her sister would be appalled by what she had done here. That was the simple and only, truth.

As Phoset began to hit Andromeda over a simple toy, Laurien watched to see what the girl would do. Would she strike back? There was a moment where her daughter grew frustrated, she could tell, and began to scream, before crying and running over to her. She wrapped her tiny little arms around her right leg and through tears cried, “Momma! Pho took my toy!”

Laurien grabbed Andromeda and placed her in her lap, the small girl snuggled up against her mom as she pouted. ”There there little dove, everything is going to be alright.”
“Nuh uh.” came the girls soft reply.

”Yes huh.” Laurien cooed. ”Pho will grow bored soon enough, just you watch. The only reason he wanted it, was because you had it. Now that he has it, he realizes he doesn’t want it at all.” and true to her word, Pho turned his attention to the pair and dropped the toy to run over to Laurien on unsteady feet. He yawned as he placed his hands upon his mother’s legs. With her free arm, Laurien scooped him up and settled him into the crook of her arm and chest.

”You see Andromeda, all we have to do is wait to get what we want.” Laurien said, waiting for an answer, but found none. She looked down to see Andromeda’s eyes fluttering, then over to Phoset, who had already shut his eyes. She found that her children gave her warmth when she needed it most, and it was nice to be wanted by the both of them. They needed her, after all.

”Patience.” Laurien hummed. ”All we need is patience.” she hummed again, watching the distant temple construction as she thought on the future.

Behind the growing temple, the palace stood bathing in the heliopolis. The peak of the pyramid-like construction was host to a vicious cacophony of children’s cries. Hectore’s racoon-ringed eyes looked emptily down at his stone plate of saltpears, sorghum bread and grilled fish. There came another squeal as Polyastera II, the eldest daughter, took a hard grip around the ponytail of her little brother, Omnipotens, and pulled as hard as she could. The little boy kicked and wailed, but the elder sister’s eyes burned with sadistic glee. Under the table, the second daughter, Polyastera III, sat playing with a spilled plate of food.

“... Children, stahp it,” Hectore mumbled to no avail. Omnipotus finally managed to pull himself lose and ran screaming towards the door. Polyastera II, needing something to vent her energy at, scooped a handful of saltpears and threw them after him. Hectore grit his teeth and pointed at the girl. “Young lady, a princess does -NOT- act like that!”

Polyastera II sat down and sneered. “Shut up, dad, if that’s what you are to me.”

Hectore felt a pump of fury course through his body. “What’s it going to take for you to behave, huh?”

“I want a jackalope,” the pink-haired girl said stubbornly.

“Sweety, you know we can’t get you a jacka--”

“I WANT A JACKALOPE! I WANT! I WANT! I WANT!”

The Huntsmaster was at a loss. He merely keeled forward as a new wave of spoiled rage filled the young girl and sent her into a tantrum. As she hammered away at stone plates and food, the doors swung open. There, queen Polyastera I stood in her translucent dress from five years ago - only that it was torn in several places around her legs, waist and chest. She had a slight stagger in her walk and her hair was a mess of knots. A general funk of sweat and alcohol permeated her aura. She made a considerable effort walking over to her seat by the dinner table, ignoring her crying son. Hectore swallowed.

“G-good evening, my queen,” he said as politely as he could. The queen ignored him, too. She sat herself down in her carven wooden chair. It creaked painfully. Soon, a number of servants came with her dinner - the portion twice the size of Hectore’s. She began to dig in.

“What’sh the news for today, Hectore?”

The Huntsmaster squeezed his arms sheepishly. “There was… Another revolt, my queen.”

“I shee,” Polyastera replied through a mouthful of bread. “Has it been dealt with?”

“As per normal procedure,” Hectore whispered dutifully.

“Hold on, dear, I can’t quite hear you-- POLLY, SHUT UP, YOU DISGUSTING BRAT!” Polyastera II shrunk down to a tenth of her size, all trace of her earlier anger vanished before a facade of fear and depression.

“S-sorry, moth--”

“Shut. Up. Now, what did you say, Hectore, my dear?”

The Huntsmaster shivered in much the same manner as the eldest daughter did. “It… It’s been dealt with, my queen.”

“Good, good. I can always rely on you, my love,” the queen replied emptily and stuffed another grotesque amount of food into her mouth. The Huntsmaster felt a gag and stood up. The queen’s eyes fell upon him with a raging fury boiling within. “Where are you going?”

“I, um… I was, uhm…”

“Staying here and having dinner with your queen?” Her eyes flickered like starquakes. Hectore knew he was trapped. He couldn’t just deny the queen her will. Those that did had an uncanny tendency to wind up dead shortly after, and Hectore quite enjoyed being alive despite what he had to endure.

So far, anyway.

The Huntsmaster sat back down and picked up a piece of bread. “Naturally, my queen.”

---

It was the dawn of the tenth year. The sands of the desert floated lazily on the wind. A week earlier, the final stone had been placed upon the temple roof, and the city had spent the following seven days in tense agony. However, it was finished at last, and the celebration rolled through the city like a crashing wave. The construction had accelerated towards the end thanks to two great fortunes: the increased use of river floats to move the stone from the quarries, as well as the discovery of a rival empire far to the west:

In the sixth year, the scouts of the empire had come upon a number of strange bipeds at the headwaters of the Natal, the new name given to Taipang. These bipeds spoke an odd language and were covered in hair and simple clothing. In truth, initial conclusions had written them off as primitive beasts. However, as they had been encountered more and more frequently, contact had been established. The lingual barrier was hard to breach, but a language spoken by all beings craving the finer things was found: gold.

The hairy bipeds had tons of it, using nuggets and pieces of it as currency. The Nebulites were never told where the strangers got it from, and frankly, the only thing on their mind was acquiring it. Initially, the Nebulites had offered works of stone, giant slaves and low-quality wine as payment for the gold. The strangers, however, were not interested. As they grew more familiar, observations made by the Nebulite emissaries concluded that the Talemonese already had slaves - so many that they needed no more. It was at that point that the queen, who had fallen head over heels for gold, offered an alternative, one that the strangers seemed to enjoy considerably more:

Concubines.

Special institutions were constructed in Laurienna where men and women were trained to be sold as husbands and wives to the queendom’s new trading partner - and the gold flowed into Asteria like the water of the Natal. A literal golden age began, in which Polyastera and her family were praised as bringers of prosperity. During the three years since connection was made with Talemon, the Nebulites were taught ceramics, and from there their ravenous research into the search for beauty led them to accidentally discover goldsmithing. Asterian trinkets and jewelry became a staple product of the civilisation.

However, as time passed, the Talemonese began to close off the stream of gold, instead offering slaves of their own. While this severely upset the nobles, it compensated for a very large problem with the giants. Unlike Nebulites and Pygmies, the giants still had to be captured and forced into slavery, and due to their slow reproduction, there was no hope of breeding enough of them before the ten year deadline was reached.

On the other hand, the Pygmy slaves were not only faster, more agile and much more disciplined, but they could also be bought in bulk. They were produced incredibly fast, so they outpaced any other type of reproduction.

Then came the ninth year. The temple was nearing its completion, but the gold that had once filled the whole city from gutter to palace had been hoarded by either the slaver lords or by the royal family. Initial reactions were those of rage at the lack of luxuries; following that came the slow collapse of business as gold that had become a bit of a standard for the barter economy grew scarcer and scarcer. Several institutions tried to return to the system of three years past where exotic animal carcasses and food were traded for goods, but none of these were in demand anymore. In addition to an overall fall in the supply of exotic animals on the grounds overhunting and overfishing, the hunger of gold drowned out any and all memory of skin and leather-based fine clothing.

Hippo skin tunics? Crocodile armour? That was what the poor wore, after all.

The Natal always provided food, so that was not the issue, necessarily. The issue was that a number of the leaders in the distribution services for food had grown corrupt, and always prioritised their friends and cronies in the royal family or the noble houses. The slaves, no matter whether they were Nebulite, Giant or Pygmy, were left at the bottom of the priority list. To keep their thoughts off mutiny and uprising, their shifts were doubled the final year. This hadn’t worked very well, and rebellions had popped up every now and then anyway. Nevertheless, the project was finished, and as Shengshi came over to inspect his temple, many of the slaves laid dying in the gutters below the temple from wounds or exhaustion. The river god noted the pitiful sight with furrowed brows as his ship landed in the Natal and he disembarked. At the riverbank, an unrecognisable version of the queen did her best to bow. Beside her stood a soulless Hectore, his eyes empty of all hope and joy, the myriad of princes and princesses, and Laurien. Behind them stood a great crowd, as well. The snake slithered up to the Nebulites with an annoyed flame in his eyes.

“Nebulites,” he hissed, “I have come at last to inspect the temple.” He faced a blinking frown down at Polyastera. “Queen Polyastera, I presume?”

“Indeed, Your Holiness,” said the queen and straightened herself back up, making the snake scowl a little. “We, your humble servants, have completed the second task that you asked of us.”

“Wonderful, well done,” the snake replied emptily and placed a much more amiable gaze on Laurien. “Laurien, my dear, how have you been, then?”

She smiled weakly and nodded, "I've been… Doing well, your Holiness."

The snake noted the tone. “That is very nice to hear. If you would like, we could perhaps have a cup of tea on my ship later? Talk about the past?”

"I… I'm afraid I have to decline, your Holiness. I promised my children I'd teach them how to fly… They can be very… Demanding when they want to be." she said with a warm smile.

“Yes, children have a tendency to be…” He glanced over at Polyastera. “Demanding… A shame that we will have to wait with that tea, though - truly is.” He clapped his hands together. “Very well, let me see this temple so you no longer will have to be afraid of my wrath.” The crowd parted as he slithered through, followed by the waddling queen and her little horde of children. Hectore remained staring longingly at the Jiangzhou resting on the river. He slowly turned to Laurien.

“Lady Laurien,” he mumbled hollowly.

She turned to look at Hectore and frowned slightly, "Yes Hectore?"

“... The queen was furious about your abstinence from the quelling of the slave uprisings last week… I… I’m not sure what she’s planning, but--”

“HECTORE!” came a scream from behind them. The Huntsmaster, once the proudest and strongest among the mortal Nebulites, winced and ducked at the noise. He turned to Laurien with empty eyes and whispered, “... I’m so sorry.” He then scuttled off after the queen.

Laurien watched him go, her thoughts abuzz with the news. Worry and panic overtook her. Andromeda and Phoset were home, along with the rest of her lovers and friends. Would Polly take advantage of her absence? Without saying a word, she spun around and took off.

The flight felt like the longest one she had ever taken, worry wracked her heart and drove her faster to get there. When she arrived upon her balcony, the first thing she noticed was the bodies. The sickly sweet aroma of Nebulite blood permeated the area as she landed in the white that coated the floor. Her servants, her concubines, even her slaves were strewn about. Their wounds were gracious and even after that, all their throats were slit.

She ran inside to find much the same, including Cassie, who had been completely mutilated. She only knew it was her, because of the uniqueness of her flame hair. Her favorite lover had been crucified along the central wall, and her arms and legs had been severed. She covered her mouth at the sight and then screamed out for Andromeda and Phoset.

There came no reply as she continued throughout her house, finding bodies everywhere. Some looked like they were fleeing, stabbed in the back and left to die. Her pool had two Nebulites face down, their blood making the water milky white. Her garden was ruined, set aflame and pulled apart. Her things were destroyed or missing and she could not find her children. She began to cry as she fell to her knees in their shared room. Their small beds were thrown about and their toys discarded about the room. She picked up a small rock hippo, it was Phoset's.

She looked at it and realized that her punishment had finally arrived for what she had done so long ago. It had come in the form of betrayal, how fitting, how ironic. Slowly her tears turned to anger and within her palm, the hippo was crushed. Polyastera had done this and she would pay. She would pay dearly. Laurien stood up, and stretched out her hand. It took several moments but Aaldir arrived and when he did they became one. Laurien then shot off towards the palace. More blood would be spilled this night.

---

She swung Aaldir again, cleaving the final guard in half as a fresh spray of blood coated her. Before her stood the entrance to the throne room and behind her lay fresh corpses of Polyastera's guards. She had run them through easily enough, their lackluster weapons from the forge were no match for a blade of divine origin.

Laurien then pushed through the doors and came face to face with Poly. The queen had a fright in her eyes, but forced a smirk that strained her face to the point where she lost one of her chins.

“Laaaaaurieen, my dear… Finally come as your queen asked.”

"You are no Queen of mine." Laurien said with malice in her voice.

Polyastera sneered. “Evidently, you think so, as you’ve stopped obeying me and my orders whenever I ask you. What happened, Laurien? How did life without me corrupt you so?”

Laurien began to laugh mockingly. "Did you really think I was the one that needed you?”

“Pfft, of course not, you stupid wench. I know damn well what you’ve meant to me and this queendom, but you have forgotten who is in charge here.” Polyastera rose up with some effort and another horde of guards came out from the sidelines and surrounded Laurien with star-forged spears. “I am the QUEEN, Laurien! And when I command you to destroy those who oppose me, you do it without question!” She snapped her fingers and another pair of guards came out of the dark behind her. They each held daggers in one hand, and in the other, they each clutched one of Laurien’s children. The daggers were placed at their throats. “Is that clear?” Polyastera finished.

She looked to her children, their pleading eyes stained with tears. The grip upon her sword tightened as she looked to Polyastera again."That's the problem then… I realize now that I should have never let you be Queen, you fat hippo. You just had to ruin yourself with drink and food and your little monsters that you call children. You are pathetic and have forgotten your place, Polyastera. Mortal."

Polyastera gasped. “Hectore, do you think I’m fat?!”

The beaten husk of a man stepped forth from behind Polyastera’s stone throne. He shook his head slowly and said, “No, my queen… You are as perfect as ever…” His voice was frighteningly mechanic.

Polyastera smirked. “Thank you, dear. I love it so when you compliment me. As for you…” She glared at Laurien. “I may be mortal, dear, but don’t be so cocky as to forget that you are, too! Guards! Bring me her head!”

The spear-wielding warriors lunged as one. Only to be met by a rage fueled Laurien, who proceeded to attack first at a frightening level of speed. Indeed, the warrior pushed herself unlike ever before and this was the doom of the guards. Their spears glanced off her armor as a few hit her and then with a quick flurry of strikes she decapitated three guards and before one spear could hit the floor, Laurien grabbed it and flung it at the Nebulite holding Andromeda hostage. It hit him in the head and went straight through, allowing her daughter to escape his knife as he slumped to the floor.

The guards began to scream as she grabbed another spear and chucked it at the one holding Photet. Unlike before, the spear hit him in his shoulder, soliciting a howl of pain as he stumbled backwards. Photet broke free and ran to his sister. The two children then watched as their mother made quick work of the rest of the guards, their blood staining the sandstone floors as they fell one by one. She was brutal in her work and when the last guard stopped screaming, the blood soaked visor of Laurien turned to Polly once again and began to advance.

The queen began to whimper and screamed, "Hectore! Do something!"

Like a machine, the Huntsmaster sprung to life, took his spear and flew at Laurien with a flurry of thrusts.

Laurien narrowly dodged to the side, using Hectore's reckless speed to her advantage, and attempted to cut him in half at his waist as he went by. However, with an incredible twist of the body, the Hunter managed to turn his forward momentum into a sharp upward turn. From up there, he dropped down with his spear thrust forward in an impaling strike.

Laurien flew backwards at the sight, Hectore's spear just scratching her armor as the spear flew down. Laurien then tried to use her blade to push the spear away from the front of Hectore so she could get in close. The hunter instead let her forward momentum carry the spear a distance away, side-stepped and placed a flat-palm strike at the side of her helmet.

Laurien growled as she renewed her asphalt in earnest. The armored figure then slashes her sword at Hectore in a flurry of offensive strikes. The hunter stepped out of the way deftly and resumed his stance. Behind him, Polyastera screamed, “KILL HER, YOU IMBECILE!” The warrior seemed to deflate, looking at Laurien with hollow eyes.

Laurien recognized that Hectore was already defeated and broken shell of his former self. She'd be doing him a mercy. She positioned her blade so that the tip pointed at him and then lunged, aiming for his heart. The sword pierced true and the hunter dropped his spear to the ground. With his dying breath, he whispered, “At last…” and gave Laurien a weak smile. He then slumped to the ground to join his dead colleagues.

Laurien's helmet then disappeared to reveal a gaze ripe with anger as she approached Polyastera.

The queen began to squirm to her feet, but slipped in the blood that was caking her floor and fell over. She looked up at Laurien with dazed eyes and said, "Killing me will--... You… You will ruin this queendom. I. Am. Asteria."

"You are a failure, nothing more, nothing less. I will remove your stain from this Empire and it will grow without your blight and corruption holding it back. Your children will be sold as concubines and slaves or be fed to the Natal. Your loyalists will be purged and destroyed and when this is all said and done… I will find a new ruler, one far younger and beautiful to rule in your stead and you, my dear Polly, will be forgotten." Laurien said with wickedness before falling to her knees on top of her.

Polyastera coughed under her weight and lied staring wide eyed. "No… This cannot be how I die. Not me. Not Polyastera!" She stretched as far as she could towards a nearby blade.

Without saying a word, Laurien put her gauntleted hands around Poly's throat and squeezed as hard as she could. The queen tried to pull the hand away, but it was utterly futile. Her weak hands could barely get a grip around them. As she felt the bones in her neck crack, she whispered, "L-Laurien… Please…"

Laurien paid her no mind as she stared down at her. Polly was a monster and needed to be absolutely destroyed. She no longer desired her, nor did anyone else. Aaldir whispered more into her mind and she knew she wanted to kill Poly. For she had overstepped and needed the final punishment of life. Death.

The queen coughed her last breath before the corpse went limp. There was silence. After she was sure Polly was dead, Laurien let out a loud breath and let go. The sudden exhaustion hit her like a wave but she had other priorities. Before even standing up she turned around to see her children cowering behind a pillar, their eyes were huge and frightened beyond belief. She made her way over to them, her armor disappearing and the sword floating near her. As she got close, Andromeda pulled Phoset closer to her. They were both shaking and Laurien could tell they were in shock.

She got onto her knees and opened her arms. "Andromeda… Phoset… Come here." she pleaded. They both shied away when she spoke but she saw Phoset's eyes. They were scared of her. And in that moment, Laurien realized just how scarred for life they would be and how much she hated herself for putting them through it. No… Poly put them through it… Laurien began to cry, her arms dropping as she looked to the floor. The moment their mother began to cry, the children hesitantly went over to her and Laurien looked up, embracing the both of them. They began to sob into her arms, the shock over as they let it all out.

“Mommy?” came another voice, a slightly squeakier version of the one Laurien already had ended. Laurien looked away from her children for a moment to see Polyastera II, Omnipotens, Polyastera III, IV and Omnipotens II, all six standing by the throne displaying varying levels of understanding of the situation. Omnipotens and Polyasteras III and IV all burst into loud crying, Omnipotens II looked curiously and concerned at this funny, bright ichor splattered all over the floor, and Polyastera II glared sobbing daggers at Laurien. “You… You killed my MOMMY!” she screamed and trampled in the blood on the floor. “YOU KILLED MOMMY! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HEEEEEER!”

She turned her head to Andromeda. ”Take your brother outside, Andromeda.” she said sternly, the girl did not want to let go, but reluctantly did so. She took Phoset’s hand, the little boy crying out for Laurien as they left. The tall woman stood up and flew over to the children before they could react. She looked down at them with disgust, before slapping Polyastera II across her face. ”Quiet your tongue, or I will feed you to the Natal.” she said with disgust. All of them immediately quieted down. It would seem that they were used to this treatment and knew very much how to correctly respond to avoid it.

“Auntie Laurien?” Omnipotens asked, stifling a sob.

”Yes Omni?” Laurien said, looking at the boy.

“.. What… What will you do to us?”

She gave him and the others a fake smile, ”I won’t do anything to you, my dears.” she lied.

“...Oh,” Omnipotens said hollowly and looked over at Polyastera’s corpse. “... Why did you kill mommy?”

”Kill her? No, no no my dear ones. I tried to save her from Hectore, but it was too late when I arrived. He tried to attempt a coup and now… One of you must take the throne.” she said coldly.

The children’s expressions betrayed varying levels of understanding once more. “I’ll take it!” Polyastera II asserted stubbornly. “I’m oldest, so it passes to ME!” The others didn’t look too keen on protesting.

”Yes, yes. But for now, this is no place for children. Go back to your rooms and when the time is right, I shall call for you.” Laurien said.

“You better, dear,” the oldest daughter snapped and set off towards her room. As the other children bumbled after, Omnipotens remained to say, “Sorry about her… She’s like that,” before walking off, too.

Laurien crossed her arms and watched the children scamper off. She already knew which one would be on the throne and it would not be Polyastera II. Though she would feel bad for a time, it would be necessary, in the end. Whatever it takes, for her and her children’s survival.

With that done, she walked outside and found Andromeda and Phoset waiting patiently. She patted their heads and then went down to their level. ”Now… You have to promise mommy that you’ll keep what you saw in there a secret, okay? No one can know… Or they might take me away from you. Do you understand?” she said with concern in her voice.

Andromeda nodded and eventually, Phoset did too. “But mommy, what about our cousins? Don’t they know too?” Phoset asked.

Laurien smiled. ”Don’t worry about them, my loves. They are going to go away for a long time, for their safety. Only the littlest ones will remain. Now come on, I did say I was going to teach you how to fly, didn’t I?”

---

Events transpired quickly after that fateful day. The blood was cleaned, the bodies discarded, and many things were swept under the rug. What was not, was the only truth anyone needed to hear: Rebels masquerading as loyalists slew Polyastera and all of her children save two. Omnipotens III and Polyastera V were the only survivors, and Omnipotens III was crowned king of Asteria at the ripe age of three. Laurien would be his advisor, as well as a slew of other Nobles vying for control. All of Asteria was called upon to unite and end the threat of the rebels to secure their beloved Queen’s legacy.

Unofficially, Laurien was in complete control of the young king. True to her word, she had done away with Poly’s old loyalists. Titanon, Phillia, Pallason and the rest were stripped of their homes, wealth and resources and then murdered for ‘treason’. Though a few did manage to escape or weren't found. The rest of the nobility and slave lords were fed their wealth to placate them, but some gold and other items went to the poor as a means of good faith. As for Polly’s other six children, they were secretly sold to slavers, and then sent off to the Talemonese. With any luck, they would not be seen, or heard from again.

A new age was beginning in Asteria, and this time, Laurien would be the one to lead it. Indirectly of course, for that was what she desired. And this time, she would not let anyone get in her way.

Summary

We open the post to Polly taking complaints from the populus, only seven or eight months after the founding of Asteria. Those that disagree with her are taken to the Forge to be sacrificed. It's a rough gig. Then we switch to Laurien and she's living nicely away from all the politics, but still knows what's going on because she has spies.

Eventually the Jotundar are forced into slavery as a means to speed up production on the temple. Laurien grows numb to it and aaldir begins to corrupt her.

We skip again to see Laurien with her two children and Poly with like six and shea gained a lot of weight and going mad. Hectore is losing it too. I might have forgotten some things here but eh.

Then we skip again and we find out that Asteria made contact with the Talemonese empire and established trade through concubines and gold and they learned some things along the way or something. Year ten arrives and we find that Polly is fat as a hippo and the temple is done. Shengshi Shows up and hates the place doesn't do anything else.

Then we find out that Polly is batshit insane and got every one of Lauriens servants and lovers murdered and they crucified Cassie and stole her children. Laurien then goes to the palace and Polly berates her for being a bad servant and threatens her kids. Laurien then murders them all after fighting hard.

Her own kids are scared for life, then polly's come and Laurien has to calm them down and tell them that Hectore killed her. She then fabricates the story that Poly's loyalists sought to overthrow her and she could only save her youngest children. Laurien then orders all of them purged and their wealth stripped. She then sends the rest of the children to the Talemonese as slaves. Out of sight out of mind.

In the end Laurien puta Omnipotens the Thies on the throne and basically is going to use him as a puppet. Yippie.

Prestige

Laurien;
+8 Prestige Starting
+1 Prestige for Minor Role
+1 Prestige for Major Role
+1 Prestige for Jolly Collaboration
-2 Prestige to Claim the Title “Lady of Laurienna”
-1 Prestige to Push her limits when in the Palace
-2 Prestige to Claim the Title “Warrior”
= +6 Prestige Ending

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

&

The Dreamers

---

At the sound of spring’s rebirth in the city, Anu, King of Talemon pushed aside the stack of reports he had been sifting through and glanced towards one of the south-facing grate windows occupying a wall of his office.

This day, a handful from the late planting season, saw the young divine casual in a light wrap of fine boars hides, just managing to cover most of his massive torso. As his bright gold eyes scanned the clear skies visible through the window, he absently ran a hand down one of his locs, long cylinders of ivory hair palm-rolled and held in place by bands of dry clay. Two about the size of a river snake lay dangling upon his chest. ‘Final hours before noon already,' he mused. 'And here I am, pouring over reports from the rice paddies.'

In spite of the grave, self-deprecating tone employed by Zhu Rongyuan in his reports, the overall state of the rice crops seemed to immensely outperform that of last year. They were merely approaching the middle of the flood seasons and already the crops stretched tall out of the paddies. The most optimistic estimates offered the possibility of a second, additional planting and harvesting season, an outcome that could secure them food safety to sustain unprecedented population growth - provided there came no unforeseen interruptions.

‘Unforeseen interruptions.’ the big king weighed. With mid-spring sunshine pouring into his southern windows, the ideas of unforeseen occurrences where far from his mind. One could not simultaneously prepare for and prevent the unknown.

Chains clinking softly, Anu rolled his heavy shoulders, undoing the knots in his divine body.

”Summon Zhu to me.” he order without looking .

A leaf-bearing pygmy obliged and left the room.

Heaving a quiet breath the demigod lowered himself into his chair and raised thin parchment to the sunlight. With Talemon sustained by rice grain, he could turn his eye elsewhere, strengthening his nation one step at a time.

A quick moment passed and soon, Zhu Rongyuan approached with an inclined head, lowered himself to his knees and prostrated himself before the great ape. “This servant has been summoned by its King. How may it serve?”

”Cherished Zhu, I assume you are doing fine this afternoon?” he began, setting down the sun-kissed report. ”I commend you for you work on the rice paddy project, with your industriousness, Talemon grows.”

The servant dipped his head a little lower, as if that was physically possible. “This servant is unworthy of His Majesty’s praise - it is sworn to see His Majesty’s land prosper, and in time, it shall.” There came a sigh. “His Majesty has no doubt taken note of this servant’s failure as reported.”

Anu answered without looking up, instead shifting through parchment until a number had been separated from the rest. ”The…..Abegunde incident I presume?”

“The very same,” Zhu confirmed shamefully. “The source of the issue is still a mystery. This servant has yet to return to the farm - additional time will be required before the source is found.”

“A lead that strengthens Talemon is a lead worth pursuing endlessly, Zhu. We are Talemonese, failure is only an example to learn from, don’t sully our name by wallowing in shame. We are better than that.” he deadpanned nonchalantly.

The statesman swallowed. “A-at once, Your Majesty.” He sat up into a seiza position, head still inclined. “Moving onto a different subject now that this servant is honoured by His Majesty’s attention, a new system of production centralisation has been drafted. This servant will proceed to read them to You if it may.”

The great ape affirmed with a shift of focus, dropping the Abegunde reports and leveling an expectant gaze at Zhu. The statesman extracted a dry, rolled up boarskin scroll from the fold of his robe and unfurled it slowly as to not damage it. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud the Shengshese logographs written upon the skin in the dry juice of various berries and insects in place of proper stone ink.

“At the request of His Majesty Anu, a survey has been conducted with the intention of pinpointing areas of improvement on the mission to achieve the greatest effectiveness in production. The survey has been conducted by His Majesty’s humble statesmen at the Talemonian Granary Office under the leadership of Zhu Rongyuan and his assistants, M’benge and Idogbe.” The servant’s eyes simulated old age, and in the same manner, he squinted towards the king and inclined his head with a gentle wince at bone aches that didn’t truly exist. “Would His Majesty prefer a summary of these servants’ findings?”

”Please.”

Zhu nodded. “To summarise, these servants found that the current system of private ownership of each farm offers little to the state as a whole. When each farm is tended to by one family without a proper surveillance and leadership structure, it can be difficult to mobilise the farmers to work the fields more than what is necessary to sustain themselves. Furthermore, due to the size of the plot of land required to sustain paddies, allowing every family their own plot would in time exhaust the amount of land we have along the banks of Beihe.” Zhu raised a finger. “Therefore, these servants have reached the conclusion that all food production should be nationalised by His Majesty’s state and managed by a subsection of His Majesty’s court. In order to avoid corruption, as per His Lordship’s teachings about the temptations of mortals, the title should not be hereditary - even though this conflicts with His Lordship’s teachings on the values of parental teachings in political positions. These servants believe this contradiction of teachings to be moot in comparison to what a properly managed agricultural sector could provide.”

”Praise worthy, Zhu. As I respect my father and his sacred teachings I dare not speak ill of it, but a hereditary system stands heavily against the ideas upon which I wish to build Talemon.” Anu acknowledged, not for a moment taking his eyes off Zhu’s face.

”See to the implementation of the bureaucratic entities required and find and train ones worthy of the positions. Have any of the finer details been hammered out? Like workers compensation?.”

“Naturally, Your Majesty - with a worker base under close monitoring, the foremen can more easily pick out outstanding labourers. Such exceptional individuals will be given additional ration plaques for their hard work, thus providing their families with safety in terms of food. The farmers shall not go wanting for the days of their own farms. In regards to the foremen themselves, they shall undergo intensive screening and tests to assure that they are incorruptible. All the grain their workers harvest will go to the Granary and be distributed from there. Any and all deviations from this prerogative will be met with the punishment of death.”

”Good, reward the talent and hardwork of the exceptional. I also assume this would require the implementation of ration plaques on a grand scale. How are we establishing their rates?”

“Using our current system, one plaque offers enough grain for a quarter year per individual. This will have to be drastically reduced - likely down to weekly rations. The state will ensure that enough of these plaques are made so that each citizen potentially may receive two per week. This method of production shall be maintained as long as the state can accurately monitor the number of births in our nation.”

”Set up an office responsible for administering an official census and keeping records of such nature as soon as possible.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Zhu replied. “Are there any other matters His Majesty wishes to discuss?”

A pause filled the room as Anu rapped his fingers against the smooth wood of his desk table. The thought seemed to escape him.

”Ah! The domestication of the plains boars I proposed earlier. Any update?”

Zhu nodded slowly. “Ah, yes… Once more, this servant can only bring news of a disappointing nature - while the swine responded kindly to the rice we offered them, they seem unwilling to remain in the pens we’ve made. On numerous occasions have there been escapes and lost pigs running through the camps. Most of these sadly are never caught again. The pens are being reinforced as we speak, but much of the clay deposits are reserved either for house construction or emptying. Resource gathering operations will need to expand before we can tame boars on any large scale.”

”A slow going effort then. Keep me updated on that projects progress.” he added. ”I believe that to be all.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Further reports will arrive post-haste.” The servant kowtowed again, rose and walked backwards out the room while continuously bowing to Anu.

Anu let out a silent sigh as he lifted his eyes back to the window. Heliopolis had traveled further into the sky, the bright city taking with it it’s life giving light and allowing the Night-Mother to invade its territory. He’d spent the bulk of his day handling the affairs of state and governing as a king should, he’d spend the rest doing the same.

In one swift motion the massive ape rose from his seat and padded towards the portal, pygmy guards quick to fall in step with their mighty king. Just as he was about to exit the palace, however, a panting pair of guards came running over. They fell to their knees, their momentum sliding them onwards in the humid dirt.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” they called. “A great beast is approaching from the jungle!”

Slits of golden fire blazed like the surface of Heliopolis in the evening light, the giant war-king seething at the sight.

Clarification was not needed. As the guards had foretold, an absolutely massive shadow stretched several hundred metres into the sky, cragly, biological curves and dents on the bottom giving way to structure contours and semblances of great towers and buildings. From Talemon’s streets, it was unclear what exactly the beast was, but what was clear was that it was approaching the city.

”Gather the warband!” Anu snapped at his guard without looking. It was like a snarl of thunder from a storm-filled sky, abrupt and bold. Any semblance of coherence was lost to the pygmy, but stunned they were into sprinting off by virtue of the immediate end they were likely to face otherwise.

With steps befitting a divine on a mission, Anu marched through the streets, his very presence enough to send his citizens cowering for cover, albeit the beasts presence only served to aid this. In a matter of moments Talemonese warriors feel in-step with him, even of the best of the best shaken by colossal shadow, but were visibly awed and shook by the visage of their king.

On his face was an expression of grim determination screwed by vestiges of unadulterated rage that threatens to further crack his emotionless mask. He was a bulwark to the tidal wave of panic and fear that washed through the city, a white tower in the night. Regardless of the pygmies strength, they would prove themselves this night.

The great monster’s shadow covered the whole of Talemon - even the white spires of Tal Eren turned a pallid gray before it. The monster seemed to stop some distance away from the magical barrier of the mansa, but it didn’t seem as though the barrier was the reason. It stood glaring down at the warriors with its one, crystal blue eye. Atop its head, a number of specks unobservable to mortals seemed to look down at the pygmy warbands and Anu, as well.

With divine eyes though, the ape easily could make out the oblong shapes. They appeared pale, bilateral like the pygmies, though hairless save for mainly strands running down along their heads, some running over the shoulders. From what the great ape could see, their numbers were few, and the bulk of them seemed to be quite young. Their clothing struck an uncanny resemblance to those of his councillors.

A small gesture ushered a warrior into a kneel by his side; Lang’engatshoni, a wiry thin but exemplary soldier.

“Your Majesty.”

”Gather up a company and welcome our visitors.” he rumbled, eyes not leaving the hairless apes.

“With haste, my king!” the warrior barked, quickly jumping to his feet and gathering those he deemed capable from the King’s warband. Within moments a cadre numbering only a humble nine picked their way through their city towards the giant turtle.

---

Lang’engatshoni and his warriors hadn’t reached all the way over before four of the hairless apes entered their view. They walked carefully through the grass as though it was their first time setting their feet on this soil. The four of them were rather different in appearance:

The tallest among them appeared to be male - aged, black down adorning his upper lip and chin with black hair uniting in a bun atop his head. His left eye had a large blue circle around it. He wore crimson, cumbersome robes, much in the same way the councillors did. He was flanked on the left by a lady of seemingly equal age, this one, too, dressed in beautiful, yet impractical robes. Her hair was alabaster, and in her hands she held what looked like a wooden fish. Next to her stood a younger looking man in black robes with trims of white, matching his long straight flood of alabaster hair and cascading beard, and finally next to him was clearly the youngest and shortest. She wore tight fitting clothes that seemed useful for manual labour and moving around, on her golden speckled face she wore a stern look, and on her hip she wore a long curved blade of earthen color. The oldest man said something in an unintelligible tongue, looking at the pygmies in what seemed to be an expectant manner.

The Pygmy shifted awkwardly, looking amongst themselves with what could only be described as confusion. Their chagrin was frustratingly familiar yet so unrecognizable.

Lang stepped forward and kowtowed in the way one did greeting his elder. “Talemon welcomes you.”

The four seemed utterly surprised by the act, and the elder lady seemed to tell the others something. She then stepped forward a bit and offered the kowtowing Lang the wooden fish in her hands.

Slowly the ape rose and trepidatiously accepted the thing, unsure of what the fish meant. Murmuring confusedly under his breath, he turned it every which way he could. The craftsmanship was breathtaking, unlike anything he had ever laid eyes on, even rivaling the skills of his toolmaker brother, Ogundairo.

“Ah ah, what is this?” he puzzled aloud, moving to bring the fish closer to his face.

The elder lady said something and the fish uttered, “Howdy, y’all. Please, don’t be frightened of lil’ ol’ me. I’m just a translator. Oh, and the lady says hi.”

Shifting slightly, Lang brought the now talking Woden fish far from his face, not so much startled as much as he was perplexed.

“You speak?”

"Sure do, mister. I'm the Babble Fish - folks babble 'n I make sense of it. Oh, speakin' of, the old gentleman in the fancy dress's sayin’ his name is Wenbo and that he represents the Dreamer race. They come in peace."

The warrior-ape cast a cursory glance at the one called Wenbo, if garb was an indicator of anything, he certainly looked the part.

“Ah, I am Lang’engatshoni, son of Adedayo and warrior of the King’s Warband. We welcome you to Talemon.”

He glanced at the alabaster haired woman and nodded.

“And hi.”

The fish clicked his tongue. “Oh, right - forgot to tell ya. They don’t understand you, sir. I know it’s a bit inconvenient, but could I ask ya to hand me back to the lady?”

Lang glanced at the cadre of Pygmy at his back, all who seemed similarly lost. With expression neutral he handed the fish back towards the lady. The lady graciously accepted it, though it was evident that they, too, thought this process was a little cumbersome. The four looked down at the fish for a moment before relieved smiles spread across their faces. The lady offered the fish back. A tiring Lang received it and the lady began to speak.

“Howdy again!” the Babble Fish said cheerfully. “The lady’s saying they’re all overjoyed to meet ya and to be welcomed. She’s now askin’ if it’s possible to see this King of yours - y’see, these folks are new in the country ‘n are eagerly lookin’ for new friends.”

With a click of his tongue, the company of Pygmy dissolved into the city. “We send for him immediately.” he husked, and gave the thing back a final time.

The Dreamers seemed very content at the answer and proceeded to wait expectantly. The lady produced some small glazed clay disks from a wicker pack the shortest girl had brought along. They was beautifully patterned with various shades of brown and beige and were just deep enough to possibly function as small bowls.

Within meer moments the massive silhouette of the great ape came into view, shadowed by the company of Pygmy. A distinct rattling could be heard from a distance, and as the regal divine finally came to a stop a few get away from the envoy, it was clear that the chain looped around his mighty forearm was the culprit.

Rivers of intense gold bared down upon the Dreamers, although there was no aggression in his posture, he had been filled in on the way.

”I am King Anu, son of Shengshi and Narzhak and lord over Talemon.” he began, all Pygmy fell to their knees at the sound of his voice. ”I was made aware that you were a fledgling nation out looking for friendship.”

The Dreamers collectively blinked. “Son of Shengshi?” the one known as Wenbo went. Then all four of them fell to their knees before Anu. “Your Holiness, it is a most profound honour to meet you. I am Wenbo, leader of the Dreamers and patriarch of the Wen clan.” He looked up and gestured to the three others. “This is my wife, Ai, the Lady of Mengcheng; Zhong Wang, the headmaster of the Hermian Academy; and Zhong Ming, general of the City Wardens. As you said, Your Holiness, we come in search of friends, and bring with us a gift of craftsmanship for this people’s great leader.”

Ai held forth the collection of clay plates. There were ten in total, and their patterns differed slightly upon closer inspection - the difference appeared intentional rather than accidental. “We hope His Holiness finds this work to be an acceptable gift.”

Anu took the plates and held them aloft, studying them for a moment before nodding and handing them to a Pygmy who cautiously took hold of the things. ”Remarkable work, to have skills like these would be of great use to Talemon.” he said, offhandedly adding the second half for his own mental notes and gesturing for them to rise. ”I see you know of my father.” he paused, then blew the air out of his nose. ”The beast smells of him and faintly of the fires to the east, the other scents I fail to recognize. I take it he blessed you.”

"In more ways than one," Zhong Wang spoke with a tip of his head, "We the dreamers are descendents of His Lordship Shengshi's own divine fragment, Elder Mother Xiaoli -- and descended as well from the love of the great God, K'nell, his Hermes. His Lordship Shengshi has seen our fragment of the Dreamer population and blessed us further, granting us this divine beast as our new home upon this land."

”It’s just like him to do such things. Well, Dreamers, if he has deemed you worthy of such kindness, then I too shall count you worthy of my respect.” He made a small motion and a Pygmy farthest from him dissolved into the city. ”I’ve summoned my council, I’d like to get down to business.”

“O-oh! Certainly,” Wenbo said cheerfully. “If I may be so rude as to ask, what are these people Your Holiness rules? Forgive me, but our kind has never seen their likeness before.”

”Pygmies, children I created to tame the wildness of this world. They will sire a world empire.”

Wenbo nodded. “They look well fed and powerful, Your Holiness - such an ambition should be most possible.”

”Of course, Lord Wenbo. Could I expect your support or would leave me high and dry?” he chagrined, his laugh like crashing waves.

Wenbo joined in with a warm chuckle. “While we have no such great aspirations as a world-spanning empire, our God and our Lord both advocate for the sharing of gifts. For example, if I am not mistaken, Your Holiness implied earlier that the great city of Talemon is unfamiliar with claycraft. Is this true?”

[color=MistyRose]”Indeed.”[color] he said curtly, inwardly noting the deviation from his original question. ”Our councilmen can attest to that.” he introduced as the regal forms of his statesmen approached. They walked shoulder to shoulder, their four facades radically different in stature, clothing and posture: Zhu Rongyuan, dressed in black robes worn with wear, walked with a craned back to indicate his simulated age; Qiang Quan, dressed in a worn white gi with a pair of straight kali sticks on his belt, had a chestful of pride in his stride, his back straight as an arrow; Fu Lai’an, though clad in an ageing red silk dress nonetheless gaited cheerfully alongside her colleagues, an improvised leaf fan in her hand; Yong Cai, dressed in overworked linen pants and shirt, kept a hand on the head of the trusty hammer at her hip. They stepped over to their King’s side, kowtowed before the Dreamers and stood back up.

“Judging from what we’ve heard, we trust the esteemed guests are familiar with Shengshese?” Zhu Rongyuan offered politely.

“With a bit of an accent, perhaps--” Ai began before she noticed Fu Lai’an struggled to hold back a giggle. Qiang Quan shot his colleague a quick glare and the musician stifled the laugh. Zhu put his hands together and smiled.

“Now, now, friend - it may just as well be us; for fifty years, these four servants have sworn allegiance to His Majesty, Anu, with the mission of crowning Him as king of the world and forge a realm of prosperity. However, due to our distance from the holy Jiangzhou, there’s a possibility that these servants have adopted some Talemonese linguistic traits. Forgive them if their words turn to soup to the ear.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Ai assured and gave the quietly snickering Fu Lai’an an uncertain frown.

Zhu clapped his hands. “Fantastic. Then allow these ones to introduce themselves and we will proceed to His Majesty’s palace with His permission.” He gave Anu a respectful nod. “This one is named Zhu Rongyuan, His Majesty’s minister of state and agriculture; this one is Qiang Quan, His Majesty’s warleader and commander of the Talemonese forces; this one Fu Lai’an, His Majesty’s minister of culture and arts - a cheerful soul, as you’ve noticed; and lastly, Yong Cai, His Majesty’s master architect.”

The Dreamers bowed again. “A great pleasure,” Wenbo stated.

A sharp clap filled the air. ”Well then, with that out of the way, let us get down to business. Might I offer you shelter within my palace?”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Wenbo said graciously and followed the demigod and his councillors to the palace along with the three other Dreamers.

---

The inside of the palace was dim and cool, as opposed to the mighty shine of Heliopolis outside, but it was far from dark. The bulk of the palace was in reality a great roof carried on hundreds of mighty ivory pillars, making the closed off inner sanctum the only real ‘room’ in the building. In there, pygmy servants had brought a grilled boar, boiled rice and vegetable and flower salads. The councillors took their places on the floor at the flanks of their king. The Dreamers stood and marveled at the majestic interior of the ivory palace - the king’s personal chambres had beautiful carvings on the walls and roof.

” Please, make yourselves comfortable, venerated of Shengshi.” he offered gesturing towards their seats. The Dreamers snapped out of their trances, nodded and sat themselves down with varying speed.

The great ape shifted forward, golden disks eyeing them expectantly. ”Let us begin then. To get straight to the point, you came bearing gifts and the intention of founding a friendship. From what I’ve seen, we’d be quite foolish to refuse.”

"Certainly, Your Holiness. We know next to nothing about this land or the rest of the world, and figure finding friends is of the highest priority. In return for an equal sentiment, we are more than willing to offer our knowledge of crafts, agriculture and animal husbandry," Wenbo said with a wide smile.

”A trade of goods and ideas?” He glanced at his council. ”What say you?”

Zhu Rongyuan nodded. “It is evident that this man has the blood of His Lordship, Your Majesty. In His Majesty’s words, we would be foolish not to accept.” The three others nodded along, especially a very eager Yong Cai.

”Then I believe we are in agreement, Wenbo. The establishment of beneficial trade between Talemon and Mengcheng.” he announced, lips curling.

“Fantastic!” the dreamer celebrated. “Such a joy when friends come to agreement so quickly. Though forgive me, may we be so rude as to ask for a little something in return? His Holiness understands, my people number few, and while we have the knowledge to explore all manner of scientific and industrial horizons, we lack the manpower to harvest the goods of the land for our endeavours. Would it be possible if the mighty Pygmy race could help us gather clay, wood, crops and animals for our city? Naturally, both they and Your Holiness’ realm will be generously compensated for the work.”

Ming seemed to steal a glance at Wenbo, an inkling of surprise in her eyes before looking back towards the council, mind now clearly abuzz.

Anu remained expressionless, though his voice betrayed a jovial tone. ”Surely you traveled far, how did you manage to arrive here with numbers low and store house needing supplies without a stop or two?”

“As His Holiness noted earlier, we have the fortune of His Lordship’s blessing. Our city came will larders full, but the workhouses and storage facilities for industrial goods were empty. We have made stops and gathered what we can, but…” He pursed his lips. “We could achieve more - together.”

“We do not wish to be a burden, though,” Ai assured in an almost interrupting manner to her husband.

"If I may?" Zhong Wang folded his hands.

Wenbo furrowed his brow momentarily and looked to Anu. (ape nods or something)

"I suggest to our two Lords here that should such a deal be struck, the city of the Dreamers acquires no more than thirty new workers. Forgive my openness, My Lord, but we do not have the ability to promise compensation nor security for any more than half our current population, nor would it be in our morals to have our hosts offer to do more work than ourselves, in citation of the words of Chagatai's principles of leadership," Zhong Wang folded his hands back into his lap, "I'm sure our general would be able to validate my concerns?"

Ming looked at Wenbo. The dreamer lord looked a little deflated, but motioned for her to speak.

"Master Zhong Wang is correct, too large an influx of new workers would strain our current security and medical logistics," She bowed her head.

Wenbo gave them both frowns, but his wife nodded along with their words. “Furthermore, I reckon my husband meant for it to be a temporary arrangement - a mission to resupply, if you will. A workforce numbering thirty or fewer will strain neither our capacity to ensure their health and safety nor His Holiness’ own projects and processes.”

Zhu Rongyuan hummed and pursed his lips. “Given that the planting season is nearing its end, we have a higher number than usual of available workers - however, if we are to expand our own industrial sectors with our esteemed guests’ knowledge, then we cannot afford to offer too many.” He raised two fingers. “I propose that we send twenty.”

”Mind you, while clay and wood are resources aplenty–although the latter my council may correct me on if otherwise–crops are not. Am I to assume you request the lot of our fields? Or does the beast carry farmland too?” he surmised.

Wenbo cleared his throat to reassert his role as representative and nodded. “Chuanwang carries enough farmland to sustain our people, Your Holiness, so there will be no need to worry about that. It is merely construction and craft resources we ask for.”

”And you find twenty workers agreeable?”

Wenbo nodded. “That will already be of immense aid, great king.”

”Then it will be done. And in return I am to assume boon?”

Wenbo looked to his followers. “The knowledge of claycraft as well as a selection of the items we make?”

“Sounds fair and just to me, Lord Wenbo,” Zhong Wang tipped his head, Ming following with a bow of her own.

The giant king turned towards his council. ”And what say you?”

“What manner of items, if this servant may ask?” Fu Lai’an inquired. Ai tapped her chin.

“Various plates, pots and disks, if it pleases?” she answered and gave her companions a look. The servant shot a glance at Zhong Ming’s hip.

“This servant couldn’t help but notice that glazed sheen on the lady general’s waist. Pray tell, is that a weapon?”

Ming looked at Wenbo, who returned a slightly disappointed nod. “Go on.”

“It is a weapon,” Ming tipped her head, “Merely meant for the defense of our people.”

“A weapon?” Qiang Quan interjected with a raised brow. “What manner of weapon? A dagger?”

“A long knife, as made by our Elder Mother Hermes,” Ming replied, “Curved to ease in cutting and slashing, long enough to keep distance between the fighters.”

“What is it made of?” the warleader continued.

“Tendlepogan clay,” Ming answered as she ran a finger over the perfectly smooth surface, “Polished in the slippery sap of the stampeding trees.”

“Tendlepog, you say?” Zhu asked curiously. “Is that where you’re from?”

“Can this weapon be reproduced with local clay?” Qiang Quan added.

“Is ‘stampeding tree’ an innuendo of some sort?” Fu thought out loud.

Wenbo looked pleadingly at Anu and said, “We do not yet know if we can produce anything of this quality here - our Mom was a crafter unlike any other mortal. To copy her work is a mission we cannot promise we will complete at this stage.”

A steady palm called to silence the deliberation. ” Did your ’Mom’ perhaps leave any blueprint or recipe to follow?”

“W-well…” Wenbo started and scratched his head. “Master Zhong, what do you figure?”

"Fortunately," Master Zhong Wang began, "Our Elder Mother kept records of her knowledge and that of Tendlepog. With time I may be able to peruse what journals we have taken with us, as well as her special books." The corner of his mouth twitched, "It may take some time, our Elder Mother has been alive since the dawn of creation itself."

“In time, it will be uncovered,” Ai supported. “Until then, unfortunately, such technology is unknown to both of us.”

”Most unfortunate. Nevertheless if and when the knowledge is gained the future, we would greatly benefit from it. As it stands now, I find the terms acceptable.”

“Perfect!” Wenbo smiled and bowed his head deeply. “Then let this be the beginning of a long and, in His Lordship’s words, prosperous friendship between our two nations!” The dreamer lord held out an open hand.

Anu grabbed it. ”Let it, indeed.”

Communist Apes and Business Dreamers

Ape’s doing paper work and calls in Zhu for a chat. Zhu’s like “yo, sorry bout them ruined farms” ‘n Anu’s like, “nah’s cool fam”. They then outline a government reform that’ll turn their city into several sections overseen by overseers with the goal of max production. Leaders will be paid in additional rations. After that, Anu tells Zhu to keep domesticating pigs.

Then, after Zhu leaves, a guard notifies Anu that a huge fuckin’ thang is approaching. Anu calls all twenty warriors to his side to face it. However, turns out it’s hecka nice and stops. Anu sends forth his scout Lang to check it out. Lang meets Wenbo, Ai, Wang and Ming, as well as the Babble Fish. Using the Babble Fish is a lil’ inconvenient, so they go to Anu asap because he speaks every lingo. They learn that ape is half Sheng and say hi. They give him some clay plates. Zhong says they all part Sheng. Ape invites them inside.

Inside, they start discussing friend stuff. Wenbo’s like “we give y’all clay and shiet for free” and Anu’s like “shiet, good deal fam”. Wenbo then says, “ho shiet, hang on, not entirely free. Can y’all help us get mats?” Anu responds by saying, “y’all not enough?” Wenbo says “nah”, but the great Wang’s like, “yo, at least consider the fact that we’re like 60 people and that accepting immigrants might push out capacities just a little bit,” and proposes that they only take 30. Ming agrees. Zhu gets that number down to 20. Fu Lai’an notices they can make clay weapons, but Wenbo and the others say they ain’t got that level of skill quite yet. They agree to be friends and exchange 20 temporary workers for knowledge on claycraft and a gift of clay.

Prestigio

Siwen start: 7
+1 minor roll
+1 major roll
+1 Funtime with friends
Siwen end: 10

Hermian Academy start: 6
+1 minor roll
+1 Funtime with friends
Hermian Academy end: 8

Civilization IV - Empires Reborn

The Hogtusk Tribe - Turn 2

It was the middle of the day. The wealthiest and stronger of every clan, the shaman and the chieftain formed a tense pentagram in the scarce hills grass next to the sorry excuse for a chieftain’s hut. They sat in glaring suspiciously at one another, the chieftain’s eyes scanning the porky face of Crunch of the Pig Tribe, the goat skull atop Snaglag of the Goat Tribe’s head; the bull horn in Lop of the Ox Tribe’s nose; and the thousand wrinkles covering the face of Wololo. In the centre of the shape laid the odd stick of wood and metal. Rog-mohog gave that thing an especially suspicious glare.

A whole day had passed since Goop the scout had brought the stick. Since then, rumours had spread throughout the camp, and Rog-mohog hated rumours. It wasn’t because they could eventually undermine his rule or cause a panic, no, no - when rumours spread throughout the camp, they created factions, factions who were so darn sure their version of the rumour was the right one, and whenever two factions collided, a section of the camp would usually be leveled from the following brawl.

Feeling that they had all been glaring enough, Rog-mohog slapped his thigh and said, “Roight! Are yuh’all ready?”

Click, click, click...

“Roight… First fhing on the agenduh…”

... Click, click, click… Heh, heh, ehehehe.

“... Is…”

... Click, click… Eheheheheheh…

“Snaglag, ye git, put the bloomin’ stick down!”

The ogress immediately dropped the stick back into the circle and twiddled her thumbs innocently. “Sorry.”

The chieftain growled quietly. “...Roight, as I was sayin’... First fhingy on the agenduh is--”

“Whassat?” Lop asked.

“Wha’s whot?”

“Agenduh.”

“Yeah, I dunno either,” Crunch backed up in a surly manner.

Rog-mohog rubbed his eyes. “Is a list of fhings to do.”

“Oh. Roight, why didn’ ye just say that, boss?” Lop complained. Wololo hummed a tune to himself, and it was uncertain whether he truly was mentally present. Rog-mohog picked up a nearby rock and lobbed it at Lop’s head. The giant fell backwards and smacked into the ground. Rog-mohog patted his hands.

“ROIGHT! First fhingy on--”

“OW! Tha’ hurt, ye git!”

“Lop, I swear t’ tha’ Anceste’ Spirit…”

“Ye wanna foight, HUHN?! I’ll smack ye shoit, I swear on me mum!”

“Did someone say foight?!” Crunch thundered gleefully.

“THE BLOOMIN’ STICK, YE GITS!” Rog-mohog thundered back and there was a silence. Lop and Crunch both looked down at the stick.

“We foightin’ the stick?” Lop asked.

Rog-mohog smacked his forehead so hard the others thought he was going to pass out. “NO, YE BLOOMIN’ GIT! We talkin’ ‘bout the stick! The fhingy that Goop brought in the other day ‘n where in the spirits’ name did it go…”

... Ehehehehehehe… Clickclickclick…

Rog-mohog sent a fist like a boulder into Snaglag’s temple and took the stick from her subsequently unconscious hands.

“THIS!” He shouted and pointed at it. “This is whot we talkin’ about!”

Crunch and Lop looked at one another. “Tha’s no fun. I’d rather foight,” Crunch said.

“IswearI’llendallofyouoneday…” Rog-mohog muttered into his palm. “Rooooiiight, whot if I give you a foight, then?”

The two snapped their eyes to the chief and made wide grins. “Oooooh, bloomin’ ‘ell, boss! Tha’s generous o’ ye.”

“I still owe ye for that punch the other day,” Crunch said proudly. “Crunch always payin’ his debts, he does.”

“‘S roight.”

Rog-mohog stared longingly at the edge of the fifty metre tall cliff before facing the others again. He sucked in a deep breath and said, “Oi…”
Crunch, Lop and the recovering Snaglag all looked at him curiously. “Whot?”

“Do ye wanna plunder a bit?”

“Plunder?!” they shouted as one and clapped their hands excitedly. “Whot we plunderin’?”

Rog-mohog smirked and beckoned them in with a finger. The three leaned in and sharpened their ears. “Accordin’ to Goop, y’know the scout, there’s a bunch’a wood ‘n shoiny, bloomin’ metal somewhere far, far off to the west.”

The three tribe leaders straightened up and blinked at one another. “Half the fun o’ plunderin’ is killin’, though,” Crunch muttered disappointedly. Rog-mohog stifled a frustrated roar and beckoned them down to his level again.

“Roight, roight, roight… Buuuuuut, roight… There -might- be fhings to kill there.” He gave a shrug and the three leaders looked thoughtfully at one another, if that was possible.

“‘E does ‘ave a point,” Snaglag admitted.

“Aye, there -could- be fhings there…” Lop agreed.

“... How far west, y’say, boss?” Crunch said suspiciously.

Rog-mohog pointed frantically in a semi-western direction. “As far as y’can. Just go and go ‘n keep goin’ until ye cannot see the Big Rock anymore. In fact, if ye get lost ‘n don’t come back, that’s means ye found it.”

The three ogres once more made their finest attempts to appear ponderous.

“Makes sense,” Lop concluded.

“Aye,” Snaglag agreed.

“We’ll be off, then, boss!” Crunch said happily. “Enjoy bein’ bored back ‘ere, ye git!”

The three of them cackled as they walked off. Rog-mohog snickered. “Enjoy dyin’ out there, ye gits.” He turned to Wololo who had fallen asleep. The chieftain pocked the shaman and the old ogre’s manner of waking up simulated rising from the dead.

“Whot?! Whot I miss?!” he shouted fraily.

“Nothin’ special,” the chieftain muttered.

“Whot you say, boss?”

“I said, nothin’ special!”
“Naffin’ speshul? Whossat mea-- Oh! Nothin’ special, roight…”

Rog-mohog once again gave the cliff a thousand yard stare. Would anyone miss him, he pondered for a moment? How did the Ancestor Spirit look upon such an act? Likely not very kindly.

“So… Whot we doin’ now?” Wololo asked.

Rog-mohog eyed the pile of sticks behind him with a skin draped over the top.

“Someone’s fixin’ my hut,” the chieftain thundered and stomped down to the village below.

The shaman blinked. “Nixin’ my cut? Who dunnit? Oi! Boss! Who’s nixin’ my cut, HUHN?!”

And so, another day passed fruitfully in the camp of Big Rock.

Actions

C) Actually build a hut for the chieftain.
E) A group of fifty or so ogres went off due west to find the wreckage of the gnome ship.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The Hermian Academy

“Hm!”

The hum was one more of frustration than thought. Zhong Wang slipped his ink covered stylos back into a wooden bowl filled with charcoal based ink. The rice paper in front of him was nearly blotted out with Shengshese characters, save for the bottom most, which seemed to be the target of a frustrated glare.

Luckily the stone room was cool and the fire was unlit, because Zhong Wang could feel the anger burning in his chest. His head turned to the pile of completed sheets and he sucked a breath through his nose and closed his eyes. Fidgeting himself into a perfectly upright position, his legs perfectly bent at right angles and his hands resting open in his lap, he began to slowly breath. As his lungs emptied, his slowly sucked in a control breath, his chest expanding and his frustration cooling.

Out. His breath spilled over the desk as he emptied his chest once more. In. He started to suck in a longer and deeper breath-

“Master Wang?” A gentle rap against his door was followed by Nergui’s voice, the scion of Temujin already halfway through the doorway. Caught off his rhythm, Wang coughed loudly on his own breath. He pounded a fist to his chest, choking harmlessly on his own hiccup, a tear running out of his right eye.

Seeing the empty plate of food near his desk, Nergui’s face paled more so than normal and rushed over. Wordlessly she wrapped a wrestler’s grip around the man and pulled him off his chair. Zhong Wang flailed but Nergui pushed his back into her front, her fists forming around his stomach. Her body tensed, about to squeeze when suddenly Zhong Wang found his voice again.

“Nergui! Wait!” Nergui’s arms went limp and Wang turned around, nearly headbutting the woman. Nergui did her best to hold a stern face, but a deep red in her cheeks matched Zhong Wang’s in embarrassment.

“I thought you were choking...” Nergui explained, suddenly adding, “...Sir.”

At the moniker, Wang straightened his robe out and took a step back, closing his eyes and wiping his stray tear from his face, “That’s quite alright, Nergui. I appreciate... your fervor for my health.”

Nergui knitted her brows and let out a single chuckle. Wang opened his eyes and arched a brow, but before he could ask, Nergui cleared her throat. Her different colored eyes turned to business and she bowed her head, “In manners of health, Doctor Zhou wishes to discuss a new project with the academy.”

Zhong Wang tugged on his beard, “That may be a fruitful endeavor. Is she here?”

“Yes, Master Wang,” Nergui nodded, “I have her waiting in the foyer.”

“Send her in.”

“Yes, Master Wang,” Nergui bowed her head. She went to turn around but then hesitated. Zhong Wang arced his brow again and Nergui idly nudged her chin towards the empty plate on the desk, “It’s good you know...” Zhong Wang cocked his head and she continued, “That you’re eating.”

“Your cooking is second to your scholarship,” Zhong Wang stood up straight and folded his arms behind his back, “So thank you.”

Nergui bowed her head once more and exited the room, a content look on her face.

---

“So… We boils these?” Taishan asked uncertainly as he held a fistful of green leaves and brownish bark over a bubbling pot of water.

Zhou raised her eyebrows, the doctor having found her way into the kitchen. She smiled, her dark purple lips spreading into a hermian crescent as she gently patted Taishan’s back, “Only if you want to aleve that headache of yours.”

“Which of them aleves the headache?” the young scholar-in-training asked absentmindedly as he dropped the ingredients into the pot.

“The willow bark,” She nodded, “The leaves cut the nausea that follows.”

“O-oh! I see!” Taishan gave the pot a curious hum and cringed a little at the bitter smells. “How long should I boil them for again?”

“Just until the-” Zhou was cut off as the door to the kitchen opened. A silent Batbayaar pointed a heavy finger and Nergui slipped in.

“Thank you,” She whispered to the large warrior poet as he hulked away. The apprentice stepped into the kitchen and tipped her head, “Master Wang wishes to see the doctor, now.”

“O-oh, I was in the middle of...” Zhou shook her head, “Lead the way.” The doctor turned back to Taishan and pushed the pot out of the fire below before tapping the scholar’s arm and beckoning for him to follow. Taishan blinked around in quick confusion before dutifully and hurriedly followed along.

The three made their way through the decorated halls of the academy before finding their way to the large door that stood between the main hall and the Master’s study. A gentle meditative hum from the back of the throat could be heard behind the door, as well as the smell of burning flowers. Nergui wrapped her fist around one of the large wooden knockers that dressed the thick door and let it fall flat against an inlaid stone, creating a resounding crack. The throat singing halted and Zhong Wang’s voice could be heard, “Come in.”

Nergui pushed the door aside and ushered Zhou in, who tipped her head respectfully to Nergui before passing through the portal. Zhong Wang stood by his desk, arms locked behind his back as his stare fell on Taishan who remained on the other side of the door.

“I invited him, Master Wang,” Zhou explained, tiny wrinkles in the corner of her eyes deepening as she grinned respectfully. Wang couldn’t help but smile back at Zhou and waved a hand at the door.

“Then won’t you join us Apprentice Taishan.”

“E-excuse me, then,” the young man said and stepped inside. He gave Zhong Wang a deep bow and then shuffled his feet anxiously.

Zhong Wang gave an acknowledging tip of his head, but not enough to formulate a bow. He turned to Zhou and waved to a seat, “Please sit.” The master then took his own seat behind the desk, the others sitting shortly after.

Zhong Wang looked to Taishan, “Apprentice Taishan, take up a wooden slate, paper and stylo -- record this meeting.” He looked to Nergui, “Could you check on Scholar Yang and Master Scholar Li Jian?” Nergui bowed deeply and backpedaled towards the door before turning. With a soft click the door was shut and all attention fell on Zhou.

“You certainly know how to make an atmosphere,” Zhou folded her hands and smiled.

“I am sorry, Lady Zh-”

“Doctor Zhou,” The doctor winked and Zhong Wang winced.

“Of course, my apologies,” Master Wang swallowed, finding every inch of this as awkward -- being only a decade older than him, Zhou had babysat him as a child before learning the ways of the medicine men and women. Master Wang cleared his throat, “Taishan, strike that insult to our good doctor from the record.”

With an audible lick of the brush, the young scholar overlined the remark and instead added the much more appropriate title of “doctor”.

Zhou looked as if she was about to laugh at the whole ordeal before pursing her lips, “So I came to talk about medicine.”

“Of course!” Wang said a bit too quickly before composing himself.

“You see, with the installment of the military, we have been getting a lot of new illnesses and wounds,” Zhou sat back in her chair, looking as if she belonged there -- looking as if she belonged anywhere she desired, “And I think it would do our city good to catalogue known treatments and research new ones.” She looked over at Taishan, pulling the apprentice into the conversation, “I was actually just going over a rather fresh treatment for headaches and small pains with Taishan, isn’t that right?”

Taishan looked up from his sheet of paper. “Huh? O-oh! Yes! She was.” He looked back down at the paper. “Was that intended for the notes or should I strike it out?”

Master Wang seemed to cringe slightly before waving his hand, “Keep it in, but strike your last question.” Zhou smiled innocently and Wang continued, “Well I think that’s a marvelous idea, our scholars and scholars to be could use the work, no doubt.” Wang tapped his chin just as Nergui reentered the room.

“Scholars Yang and Li Jian are making ample progress in the remaining writings of Elder Master Zhongcheng,” Nergui announced out of turn. Wang sucked in a breath and nodded.

“That’s good news, inform them that a new task has risen,” Zhong Wang smiled at Nergui who smiled back.

“Master Wang?” Zhou crossed a leg and leaned back.

“Yes, good doctor?”

“Since I will no doubt be aiding in whoever is tasked with this endeavor, would it not be fair to give me a say in who I work with?” Zhou was smiling.

Zhong Wang nodded slowly, “I suppose that is fair, you proposed the idea and we all know you to be wise. Please, who would you pick, Master Scholar Batbayaar?”

“Apprentice Taishan,” Zhou folded her hands in her lap, a humming grin on her face. Both Nergui and Zhong Wang looked dumbstruck. Taishan looked back up from his paper.

“Sorry, did you call my name, doctor?”

“Yes,” Zhou shrugged her shoulders proudly, “I want Apprentice Taishan and add Master Scholar Batbayaar if it makes you feel more comfortable, but really I had already started dictating to Taishan, and our medicine tradition says I best finish his education, least I be responsible for any of his mismanagement of medicine in the future.”

“Well Doctor Zhou,” Master Wang folded his hands on the table, “That’s very noble-”

“It is isn’t it?” Zhou gave a toying smile and Wang exhaled through his nostrils.

“Taishan, stop writing,” Zhong Wang stood up, causing Nergui to give him a concerned stare. The apprentice put down his brush and started passively reading through what he had written. After a moment, his eyes went wide.

“Wait, you choose me?!”

“Taishan!” Master Wang scolded before looking back at the doctor, “I know you have been against the more rigid restructuring in our more hierarchical institutes, Zhou, but really Taishan is not yet ordained as a scholar of this academy.”

Zhou made a face, “You know I approve of all that you do Master Wang, I really do, but this is beyond my distaste for change, I think.” She sucked in a breath, “Since we Dreamers first entered the land of medicine, it has been unheard of for a medicine man or woman to stop teaching all they know once they started, or the student could get very hurt or hurt someone else with misinformation. Now I admit I was tricky enough to start talking to Taishan about it before consulting with you and I apologize, but you can’t deny the little spark of intelligence behind his eyes.”

Master Wang went silent as he chewed his lip, “I know.” He finally said, “I said his name to His Lordship Shengshi for that very reason.” He sighed, “Fine, on one condition.”

“Name it,” Zhou tilted her head up to look at the standing man.

Zhong Wang broke into a wide grin, “Stop making me look like such a fool in front of my students.”

Zhou laughed and the tension left the room, “I don’t think that was me.”

Summaree

Prestigio!

Hermian Academy start: 3
+1 Minor role
+1 Major role
+1 Funtime with friends

End: 6 prestigios.

Members of the Order and their rank

Master Wang

Master Scholar Batbayaar and Li Jian
Scholar Yang
Apprentice Nergui and Taishan

Summary

Doctor Zhou recruits the academy to help write down and research dreamer medicine. She enlists Apprentice Taishan to aid her with Master Wang’s permission.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Shengshi

5MP/3FP

“Ugh, glad that is over with,” the snake muttered as the ship sailed through the sky towards the centre of the Foot. The Nebulites had been deposited at the delta of Taipang and the snake could return to his other duties. He plucked at his beard.

“He Bo? What was next on my to-do list?”

The servant bowed dutifully. “To this servant’s knowledge, His Lordship does not keep a to-do list.”

The snake turned and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so. Well, have any prayers arrived of late? Any desperate requests for my presence?”

“His Lordship would know that better than this servant would, with all due respect,” He Bo replied politely. The snake sighed.

“I should make some sort of postal office - a centre aboard my ship where prayers could be collected and archived. Having to remember everything is just so… Tedious. Very well, give me a minute while I recall what I can…”

He Bo stood by faithfully as the snake curled up his tail and sat down, leaning his temple on a balled fist. He closed his eyes and dove deep into his mind. Thousands of calls for aid echoed through his skull like droplets in an empty cave and a tired expression spread across the snake’s face. Eventually, though, after sifting through the Nebulite prayers begging him to come back and help them, he heard the words of pygmies, specifically a family of hunters.

“... Interesting,” he mumbled in the way one does when searching for attention.

“What is, Your Lordship?” He Bo asked politely.

“A number of pygmies are saying that the Xishan plains are much too barren and the jungles, much too empty.”

“The Xishan plains are naturally barren due to lacking precipitation. The presence of the great twin peaks Xishan blocks the storms from the Saluran Strait.”

“Yes, I am aware, worthy servant,” the snake assured. “However, I am in agreement that they are still much too empty, as my jungle is.”

“Will His Lordship answer this prayer, then?”

“Yes. Yes, I think I will.”

The ship took a sharp turn and set a course for the jungles of Nanhe first.

---

After travelling across the world multiple times, the snake had to admit that Nanhe was not the biggest jungle in the world. That truth stung slightly - it always felt like a victory knowing that one ruled the largest things in the world. However, nothing beyond the sea could sport a biodiversity such as the one seen on the Dragon’s Foot - each river, unique in its species. However, that was just it - each river was unique. Roaming the rest of the continent were only boars, dragons and the occasional camel. Certainly, some of the animals from the Seihdh river ecosystem had begun to make their way around the Qiangshan mountain range, but the snake confessed that the majority of his lands were empty or sparsely populated.

Today, that would change.

Shengshi had already walked a distance from his ship, which now rested neatly on the waves of Nanhe. Around him, the dense woods formed thick walls that would be nigh impossible to break for mere mortals. Though the snake passed through them with ease, he clearly saw the issue of having woods this dense. He would begin with the most obvious obstacle, one he observed even obstructed the great farmer apes in the distance.

With its restricted insect and fungus life, the forest floor had gathered years and years of detritus, almost none of which had been processed into healthy soil again. The snake confessed the stench alone was a definite indicator that the forest floor was in desperate need of a clean up crew. Thus the snake took a large rotting leaf from the ground. In his hand, the leaf became worms, beetles, flies, wasps, ants - insects of all kinds. They dropped onto more leaves below, and every leaf they touched transformed in the same way. After the forest floor underneath the snake had entirely become insects, they stopped multiplying in the same manner. The ants began to gather around their queens and carry them off to make their hills; worms dug into the soil; the beetles began feasting on the dead plant matter; wasps soared off to make their hives.

The snake then picked up the gooey remains of rotten fruit and watched it become a series of mollusks. These snailed their way out of his hand and began to feast as the beetles did, more of them spawning as they ate.

The snake took a rotting branch and watched as it became arachnids of all sorts. These immediately began to spin webs in the trees and keep the rampant flies and wasps from reproducing beyond sustainability. Some of the webs became colourful butterfly larvae, some of which quickly spun pupae, metamorphed instantly and sprung out as amazingly beautiful butterflies.
The soil began to refill with nutrients from the maggots’ and insects’ work. Around the thicker spots of detritus spawned tall mushrooms, some nearly reaching the canopy above. Some snaked their way around the trees like constricting anacondas. Some mushrooms manifested as tiny white caps that blossomed in the millions, like chalky strands of grass. As the soil finally grew healthy again, flowers began to sprout around the feet of the trees, flanked by shrubberies.

Already, the woods were beginning to feel purer, livelier. The snake wasn’t done, however. From the soil around him rose great apes similar to Anu, only these had black arms, shoulders, chest, legs and rings around their eyes. Otherwise, they were white. These panda-patterned gorillas took a moment to grow familiar with existence before they went off into the woods in their respective packs. The snake hoped these wouldn’t fight too often with the farmer apes - these, at least, weren’t bound to the river.

Around the canopy, thousands of macaws, birds of paradise and other avians spawned and began to sing their songs. The already present Gardeners seemed a little uneasy at their new neighbours. Branches became great anacondas that began to stalk the woods for tasty frog monkeys. In the puddles on the forest floor spawn poison dart frogs and massive cane toads. A myriad of other amphibians also spawned and began to look for the nearest rivers.

Tigers similar to those around the River Seihdh jumped out of bushes onto newly forming water buffalo and small elephants, though none of these creatures had the overall menace and bulk of their northern cousins. Mice came out of the ground. Some of them grew wings and became bats. Finally, the stones lying around broke apart and became rhinos which immediately began to defend their young against vicious tigers. Satisfied with his work, the snake left this young life to its own and continued towards the great Xishan plains.

---

The Xishan plains was and had always been a rather uninteresting sight. Certainly, to a degree, it was stunning to behold - endless plains of yellow grass set under a scorching dawn with the occasional bypassing boar. The snake shook his head. This would not do at all.

He flicked his hand and tall pillars of mud and clay rose out of the ground, sparsely covering the whole of the plains as far as the eyes could see. From within the pillars, curious termites crawled out to behold the surrounding world. The snake flicked his wrist again and many of these termites metamorphed into wild bees, flies, wasps, mosquitoes. From the ground sprouted hundreds of acadia trees, scattered around the savannah. Fat-trunked baobab trees sprouted in small groups. From the roots of these magnificent plants spawned buffalo and wildebeest with colossal horns. Antelopes and gazelles bounced out of the grass, eagerly skipping at the joy of creation. Alongside them came zebrae and small horses. Watering holes and rivers running off the Xishan tributary filled with birds, both flying and landbound, small hippos and crocodiles.

The snake put his hands on his hips and hummed. The plains would need some carnivores. He picked up a nearby boar bone, snapped it in half and dropped it on the ground. Out of nowhere came packs of wild painted dogs to battle over the marrow. The skies above filled with naked-headed vultures, and small badgers began to stalk the grasses in search of newly spawned mice, rats and meerkats.

Finally, the system would have its apex predator. The snake went over to a boulder and placed his hand upon it. There came a deafening roar from within and the stone cracked to reveal a pack of enormous lions, nearly seven feet tall. The males had manes of bloody crimson and sprouted long, black, menacing horns out of their foreheads. The females had smaller horns, though they were still a sight to behold. They immediately began to skulk towards the shade underneath an acadia tree, where some bees already were making hives.

The snake, now a little tired and quite satisfied with his work, set off back towards Nanhe. The Dragon’s Foot was perhaps not the largest continent, but none could dispute that it was a haven of life.

SummaREEEEEEEE

The snake thinks DF doesn’t have enough life yet, so he turns Nanhe into a combination of the Congo and the jungles of Southeast and East Asia. He then turns the Xishan plains into the Serengeti. The animals will be written about on the Wiki.

MP Spendage

Before: 5MP/3FP
2MP: Make a jungle ecosystem in the Nanhe jungle.
2MP: Make a savannah ecosystem on the Xishan plains.
After: 1MP/3FP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The Logs of the King’s Council - To Nurture a Paddy

57 years after the founding of His Majesty’s holy city, Talemon, Garden of Late Spring, 7th day - His Royal Highness Anu’s city of Talemon.

I confess improving the effectiveness of the rice paddies has proven to be a larger task than I initially thought. Earlier experiments incorporated additional water in the paddies, but this seemed not to have a noticeable effect beyond making the harvest considerably harder for the shorter pygmies. Subsequent experiments attempted to increase the nutrient content of the water in the paddies. Leftover rice was added to stimulate growth, but this delivered insufficient results. It was later removed again after the smell of rot and alcohol filled the experimental paddy.

However, lately, we have stumbled upon a possible solution to our issue: A few weeks back, a farmer came to me telling stories of fish in his paddies. Initially, he had seem them gnawing on the stalks of his riceweed and had decided to fish them out of there before they ate his plants; however, as he observed the fish closer, he found that they were not at all eating the plants.

They were eating the parasites on them.

We have thus concluded that the fish at the very least seem beneficial to the riceweed. If we are fortunate, the Beihese fish and rice may exist symbiotically if His Lordship wills it.

Zhu Rongyuan, His Majesty Anu’s secretary of state.

---

57 years after the founding of His Majesty’s holy city, Talemon, Garden of the First Flood, 6th day - His Royal Highness Anu’s city of Talemon.

Eureka! The experiment has been a success! Opening the paddies to the river and allowing fish to swim in has provided great leaps in growth. It has been roughly a whole garden since the introduction of fish, and the results are noticeable against all odds. Already under the Garden of the First Flood, we are beginning to see grain sprout. While harvest is still several gardens off, growth such as this is unprecedented!

The fish, too, seem to be prospering, their growth is unheard of - violent, even. We have held the fishermen back for now - it is possible that any damage to the stock may impact the god-given growth we have witnessed up to this point.

On a relevant note, a farmer came to me yesterday and pleaded that I should follow him to his paddy. A gruesome development had occurred. I shall investigate this tomorrow at dawn.

Zhu Rongyuan, His Majesty Anu’s secretary of state.

---

57 years after the founding of His Majesty’s holy city, Talemon, Garden of the First Flood, 9th day - His Royal Highness Anu’s city of Talemon.

Oh, blackest bile of cruelest fate! I knew it was too good to be true! The farmer of three days past, whom I have learned is named Abegunde, brought me to his paddy today, and from half a li away I could tell what had befallen it. The paddy rank of rotten fish long before we arrived, and when we arrived, I found that algae had outgrown the rice and killed the farmer’s field. Yesterday was spent salvaging what remained of it. The farmer and his family will naturally be compensated for their sacrifice for the good of the nation. As befit a family of five like his, they will receive twenty quarter chips for the granary. That should last them until the next sowing season and then some.

Still, the source of this algae explosion remains largely a mystery. All the officials I sent out today came back and confirmed that there is indeed algae in other paddies, but nothing as dire as this. Tomorrow, I will return to the Abegunde’s farm and investigate.

Zhu Rongyuan, His Majesty Anu’s secretary of state.

---

57 years after the founding of His Majesty’s holy city, Talemon, Garden of the First Flood, 10th day - His Royal Highness Anu’s city of Talemon.

Nothing.

What remained in Abegunde’s fields did not satisfy any of the hypotheses:

The other paddies experienced no bloom similar to this, so it cannot have been the river itself.
Detailed accounts from Abegunde’s family, as well as his neighbours, revealed no hidden plot of fraud with the intention of receiving rations from the King’s Granary.
The algae had not been planted nor brought from the river.

I confess I am at a loss. It pains me to admit it as a scholar, but it’s the truth. There is a distinct possibility that it was the presence of the fish that triggered the bloom, but the issue has not spread to other paddies yet.

Truly, I am without guidance. I will return to this research at a later date, but for now, the fish will be culled to a bare minimum required to keep the parasites off the rice. The Pygmies, at least, will feast on the river’s bounty over the next weeks. Let that be a joy in this otherwise bitter series of events.

Zhu Rongyuan, His Majesty Anu’s secretary of state.

SummaREEEE!

Zhu Rongyuan logs his attempts to increase rice yields. At first, he finds that fish in the paddies eat parasites off the plants and encourages farmers to have fish in their paddies. However, he later comes across a paddy that has been swallowed by algae that have killed both the plants and fish. The owners of the farm are reimbursed with rice from the Granary, but Zhu struggles to find the reason behind the paddies. He drops the experiments until a later date.

Prestige

Siwen, the King’s Council start: 5
+1 role minoris
+1 role majoris
End: 7

Civilization IV - Empires Reborn

The Hogtusk Tribe - Turn 1

Rog-mohog sat next to a heap of broken sticks open which laid a sad, mouldy cowhide. His unibrow hung low with annoyance over his small eyes and between his underbitten jaws his molars were making quick work of a dry, old slab of yesterday’s pork tah-tah. His teeth struck a particularly stubborn stretch of sinew and the ogre made a dry “pfft” with his lips before collecting the string in a ball of phlegm and spitting it out on the scalp of the knocked-out-cold Oogor lying bloody face down on the ground beside him.

“Y’know,” Rog-mohog mumbled to the unconscious, in-desperate-need-of-medical-aid Oogor, “you make for a terribull bloomin’, wossname, builda’. Don’t botha’ askin’ for your reward, ye git.” He got to his feet, planted an additional kick in the side of Oogor’s bruised rib cage and strolled down towards the village below. He had smelt it in the air: The fires of sacrifice had been lit at the foot of Big Rock. Rog-mohog had an offering to attend to.

The crude altar to the great Boar Spirit already had amassed a great gathering. All three clans were represented - wait, no, only two were. The chieftain stopped midway through the crowd, confusing the others in front of him who were very much used to the familiar sensation of Rog-mohog trampling down the unfortunate in his path. The chieftain squinted his eyes, staring hard out over the crowd and causing several sketchy-looking individuals to dive for cover behind their comrades.

“OI!” the chieftain suddenly boomed, inciting some fearful squeals. “Where’s the bloomin’ Ox clan at?!”

There was a collective shrug. From the altar came a frail voice, “whot he say?!” Rog-mohog turned to look upon the decrepit, feeble form of shaman Wololo whose torso seemed to inch closer to his feet with every passing day. The message was passed on through the crowd towards the elder, then repeated four times next to the elder’s ear before it finally reached its intended audience.

“Ooooooh, the Ox clan!” the shaman Wololo finally said and the crowd sighed in relief. “They’s out lookin’ for more, wossname, oxen.”

Chatter spread through the crowd like wildfire. The chieftain sent it running for the hills with a loud “HUUUUHN?!” followed by: “Why’s they goin’ out now?! Roight before a bloomin’ offerin’?!”

Wololo did his best to shrug. “They boss said they found some cows up norf. Wanted to get’um before they went off.”

Rog-mohog growled a groan and continued through the crowd towards the altar, satisfying the unfortunate before him by ending the uncanny pause in their suffering. Once at the altar, the chieftain beckoned in no particular direction and desperate pig squeals soon drowned out all other sounds. Rog-mohog’s wife, Porky, carried the boar-to-be-offered by one hind leg and handed it to her husband, offering him an airborne ‘mwah~~’ with her free hand. The chieftain took the pig, ignored the kiss and slammed the pig down on the altar with such force that the beast was knocked out cold, and probably severely broken. He then deposited it on the altar and nodded at the shaman. Wololo feebly nodded back and turned towards the altar with the revolution speed of the galaxy. He grabbed the shard sacrificial stone and raised it to the sky, shouting:

“OH, GREAT BOAR SPIRIT! We offa’ you this here piggy so that you can eat nice ‘n proppa’ and make sure we do it too. That a deal?!”

Wololo then poked feebly at the boarskin before an assistant came over and helped him cut into the heart. There was a pause, one in which most of the ogres liked to believe the spirit was answering the shaman in his mind or something similar. Statistically speaking, however, there was always those among them that was convinced the whole spirit shebang was just a scam to get them to give up a hog once a month. However, ever since Ub-lub the Herritik had invited the chieftains of old to a civilised debate about the flaws in their religion (chief among which was that they offered boar meat to a boar god), and subsequently met the convincing counter-argument known as “fyst, club ‘n deff”, few dared speak up about the matter. After enough time had passed, the shaman took another afternoon to turn back to the chieftain and offer him a toothless smile.

“The Boar Spirit’s happy to help,” the shaman Wololo assured. The chieftain nodded.

“Roight, what’s it told to do?”

The shaman tugged at the boar’s bloody heart inside the bloody carcass, and the assistant once more dutifully helped the elder out by ripping the heart out, cutting it into neat little pieces and offering them to Wololo. The elder took one and put it in his mouth. It was not as dramatic as the method of his youth, where every offering had been a tutorial in how to butcher one’s enemies in the most brutal of ways, but modern problems required modern solutions. He did his best to chew the meat to get all of that sweet spiritual knowledge out of it, but his dry gums would have more luck piercing stone than to chew apart raw, gooey boar meat. Eventually, he just swallowed and hummed fraily.

“I fhink…” he started. The ogres leaned in to listen. “I fhink the Boar Spirit wants us to build better pens for ‘um.”

Porky peeked out from behind Rog-mohog. “Whot pens?”

“‘Xactly,” Wololo confirmed.

Rog-mohog knew not to ignore the spirits’ commands - doing so wasn’t very smart, and it was a known truth among ogrekind that they weren’t particularly smart, or at least, they weren’t the smartest. So humble were they that they understood this - truly, they did. They were pretty high up there, naturally, but even ogres had to draw the line somewhere. Rog-mohog understood this perhaps best of all - that’s what made him the smartest.

Naturally, therefore, the only smart thing to do was to do as the Boar Spirit said!

“We build pens, then,” the chieftain commanded to the sound of a collective groan from the crowds.

“Why’s we gotta do thaaaaat?!” came a complaint from the back.

“Worked all week on me hut, I did, ‘n now we’s gotta made pens ‘n boggers,” came another.

“We get free lunch, roight?”

Rog-mohog growled and the complaints quieted down. When it came to ruling ogres, the general rule was that strength was the key to power, and strength comes in many shapes and forms. It wasn’t that Rog-mohog was particularly mighty; plenty of ogres outsized and outweighed him. Rog-mohog wasn’t necessarily particularly wealthy, either; he had a number of boars, yes, but his herd size paled in comparison to ogres like Crunch.

No, what Rog-mohog had in terms of legitimacy was a mind like his father’s. Therefore, none dared oppose him. Most ogres knew to punch and kick, but someone titled ‘the Brainy’ was bound to know a third attack - and who could defend against such a secret technique?

So sure, infighting was certainly common in the tribe, but only a small, teeny, tiny minority dared directly speak threats and challenge the big boss himself. Rog-mohog knew this well, and milked it for all it was worth.

“To answer all your queshuns,” the chieftain started and walked over to the first who had complained. It was a lady, from the goat clan judging from the sour stink of old milk and the horned ram skull dangling from a dry sinew necklace about her neck. She was a head taller than him, but shrunk to half the chieftain’s size as he approached. Rog-mohog stared her a few feet further down. Then, he grabbed her by the thick fur around her neck, destabilised her and used her own weight to toss her over his leg, sending her tumbling into a nearby tent, bowling down six others in the process. The chieftain kicked a cloud of dust in her direction and spat, “GET TO BLOOMIN’ WORK, YE LAZY GITS!”

None dared speak up, for the chieftain’s word formed a lid on the conversation so heavy that ‘up’ became a fictional direction. With hung heads, the ogres began to gather bone, sticks, tall grass, rocks - whatever could be used to made fences and walls. They begun to dig away at the surface of the steppe around their camp with some aid from the shovel-nosed pigs - it was necessary to keep sufficient mud for the pigs to wallow in when it got hot. Ogres went over to the nearby brooke running down the mountainside, gathered water in their hands, lost half of it on the way back, and dropped it on the exposed clay to create mud. They stomped and trampled the wet mix, and the boars rolled around in ecstacy.

The fences themselves were of shoddy quality, however, and even blind pigs could easily escape them. As it turned out, half the workforce had abandoned the project before it even started, leaving the other half to start it alone, which subsequently caused another quarter to leave out of sheer belief that their dwindled number would never ever finish the project - ever. Now Rog-mohog was annoyed - angry, even - and rounded up all the workers again. This next time, however, he divided them into work teams and gave one on each team a club each.

“Roight,” he told the clubbers as they admired their crude weapons. “I’s gunna give you a job now, aight. When the others start workin, you-- Crumpus, Crumpus! Pay attenshun!”

The ogre known as Crumpus stopped watching the neat little dung beetles on the ground and stood back up. “Sorry.”

The chieftain sighed. “Roight! When others start workin’, you keep an eye on ‘um. If they stop workin’, you smack ‘um ‘ard ‘n good. Got it?”

The ogres exchanged malicious grins and patted their palms with their clubs. The chieftain nodded in approval. “Good. You’s my taskmasters - someone do somefin’ bad at work, you smack ‘em ‘ard so they don’t do it again.”

“Roight!” the taskmasters yelled and stormed off towards the pens-in-production. Rog-mohog watched them with pride in his chest, then light disappointment as one of them already begun to hammer away at someone who actually had been doing their job, only that the job consisted of sitting still to tie sinews to the bone fences.

Oh, well, at least the work was moving along smoothly.

Actions!

X) Offer a sacrifice to the Boar Spirit for guidance. Among other things, the spirit tells them to build pig pens.
A) Improve food: The Ox clan completely ignored the sacrifice to the Boar Spirit and went north to tame some oxen, much to the disapproval of the chieftain.
C+X) Improve infrastructure: Start building pig pens. Fail miserably because ogres are terrible at focusing on things for very long. Start over again by introducing a taskmaster force to police those who take break. ???. Profit.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Salty Gruel, Hidden Trickster

The ground shook under Yullian’s feet. He looked up, a great turtle that dwarfed the grassy hills of the countryside was meandering on great legs in the distance. It’s entire body was a silhouette of purple mist, shrouded in the fog of distance, but the outline was clear. Yullian’s eyes widened, a hollow wind swishing by him as he thought.

Slowly his pygmy legs stretched and his body grew lithe and athletic rather than bulky until an Olympian of a dreamer took form. With a monochrome smile, Yullian kicked off the ground, his great sprint a rash of incredible bounding leaps. As he gained speed, the hills each became single steps -- his plain form darting from crest to crest with little exhaustion.

Finally the mighty legs of the mountainous turtle broke from the fog of distance, their incredible scales and sea bottom color blanketing the horizon as Yullian grew closer and closer. Yullian’s grin grew cheshire and with one final leap, he bounded right onto the leg of the mighty creature.

---

Zhong Wang scanned the crisp rice paper before him. With a ginger pinch he moved the rice paper to the side, ancient characters scrawled down its length. His eyes flicked to the new paper -- Shengshi’s handwriting swooping and dashing expertly before him. He gulped, he was hearing the very demands of the flow in his head -- his eyes translating the edicts of a God.

The room he sat in still smelt of worked wood and staining oils now mixed with the complimenting smell of a fire that whispered in a stone pit. The chair he sat in looked more ornate than comfortable, with rolling grotesques smoothly marked into the wood, giving it the look of a tsunami of interwoven snakes -- and if not for the goose down stuff cushion on the seat and back, it may have been. The dreamers furs had been replaced with a simple solid black, white trimmed robe he had found in his dresser, completing the image of the scholar.

He tugged on his long, thin beard, kept in the Temüjin style, his black eyes flickering. A small wooden plate sat beside him, an untouched row of roasted vegetables sat cold next to a slice of poultry that save for a few pinches, was equally untouched. Even the wooden cup besides it found itself stained with undrunken wine, Zhong Wang’s mouth defiantly dry.

“Master Wang,” Nergui piped up from the entrance to the study, her hands were folded in her lap and head bowed in respect. Without looking up from the work of Shengshi, Wang let out an indicating grunt. Nergui looked up from her bow, the fire light catching her single blue eye and reflecting off her golden orange, “Wen Yang has said he has finished chronicling the acts of leadership in the style and biography of Elder Chagatai...”

Wang nodded, still not looking up, “Good... good...” His voice was distant.

“Master Wang, if I may?” Nergui stepped into the room, her eyes following the untouched food. She didn’t wait for Wang to answer before she leaned over him and pushed the plate closer to the man. He blinked, her arm coming between him and the rice paper. With a slightly gaped expression he looked over at her, his eyes bloodshot and strained.

“You need to eat,” Nergui insisted, the narrow nose of Temüjin’s clan giving her a demanding look.

Wang sat back in his chair, his arms dangling to his sides, alabaster brow furrowed, “I know what I need to do.” He snapped. Nergui raised her brows in surprise and Wang pinched the bridge of his brow, finally closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but there is a lot of work to be done,” Zhong Wang exhaled, “I’m equal parts giddy as I am... stressed, I suppose.”

“I didn’t-”

“You know,” Zhong Wang cut her off and pointed at the rice paper, folding one leg over the other as he leaned back, “According to the divine words of his Lordship Shengshi, you have breached your role as my apprentice in daring to demand an action of me.”

Nergui took a step back and turned her head to give him a sideways glance, “Do you intend to reprimand me?”

“If you were Li Jian, sure,” Zhong Wang quipped, “But you have a point,” He looked over to the food, “I suppose I got caught up in it all.”

“I’d say so,” Nergui nodded with an unamused face.

“I’m sorry, again,” Zhong Wang reiterated, “Thank you for your concern, Nergui. I appreciate it.”

“I wouldn’t do it otherwise,” She gave him a slanted smile, “I hope we will see you in the evening for supper.”

“Who’s cooking?” Zhong Wang turned to look at her as she started her exit. Nergui stopped and tapped her chin, “Wen Song.”

---

Wen Song could not quite wrap her head around the odd vegetable in her hand. It responded stubbornly to her kitchen knife, and no matter how long she boiled it, it didn’t turn to porridge. She picked one up, its dark green, leathery exterior taunting her with a grin-like sheen. She bit into it, the vegetable snapping satisfactorily between her teeth. Its flavour was mostly empty, but it had a delicious freshness to it, completed by a gentle bitterness in the background. She swallowed and hummed, looking back into the boiling pot where a few of the vegetables cousins defiantly refused to break apart. She muttered to herself as she added some handfuls of millet to the boiling water along with some sliced carrots and a handful of salt.

These ‘cucumbers’ made for a terrible porridge base, she proclaimed internally.

The door to the kitchen suddenly swung open. An athletic looking man entered, a huge sack hefted over his shoulder, putting a strained look on an otherwise pleasant face. A single red bar striped down from his forehead, splitting his face in two. Giving Song not much more than a nod, he thumped the sack onto a counter near her and clapped dust off his hands, “Couple of passing birds and some more vegetables from the garden... don’t ask me why they put them in the same sack.” He shook his head and put his hands on his hips, as if waiting for something.

“Oh, they did that again? I thought I’d told them to keep them separate!” Song huffed and pulled open the bag to fish the bloody birds out. “The blood makes the vegetables to bad! Now I gotta wash them all again… Ugh!” She put a carcass on the counter and stuck her hand into the sack again. “Oh, always leaving me with the nasty work… Anyway, thank you for bringing it in and--” She took a moment to properly scan the man. “Who are you?”

“Right! I don’t think we’ve actually met before,” The man started, his eyes glancing at the bag, “My name is Huang, oh!” He pushed the bag, the vegetables on the bottom threatening to shift the bag off the counter, “Maybe you’d like a little help with the preparation?”

“Huang?” Song repeated suspiciously. “The Wen family doesn’t have a Huang. What family are you from?”

Huang pursed his lips, guilty eyes glancing away from Song, “The Wen family does... have a Huang.” He muttered almost to himself, “It’s not something I’d like to really get into, especially if we are just meeting -- I don’t even know your name.”

Song’s hard eyes became a scowl and she tightened her hand around the kitchen knife in her hand. “No, the Wen family does -not- have a Huang. I would know because I am Wen Song, daughter of Wen Tian and Li Sima--” she pointed an accusing finger at Huang’s face. “-- and I have neither cousins, siblings, nieces, nephews, uncles nor aunts with that name.”

Huang’s guilty eyes shimmered back a teary frustration, “Of course you don’t.” He took a step forward, “My entire life has been a wash of hearing things like that.” He pointed his own finger, “But did you ever--” He huffed a frustrated breath, voice cracking, “Have you ever considered what happens to the baby that no wanted?” His face was red, “A mistake.” He bit the inside of his cheek, “K’nell adore the Chagatai clan for taking me in, but--” He shifted and began to turn away, waving a hand with a ‘bah’. “I don’t need this, I just deliver the vegetables.”
Song’s finger faltered and she gasped. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, I didn’t--!” She looked side to side in search of something. “I got suspicious, I’m so sorry! Here, can I offer you some porridge? Please, I didn’t know you were adopted!”

Huang flinched at the word, turning back to Song, “It’s... it’s fine.” He let out a long sigh and checked his eye for a tear, “It’s a sensitive topic.” He mulled for a second, “But you know, it is nice to finally be able to say that out loud to someone from my birth family.” He gave a weak smile, “Maybe porridge would be a nice idea.”

Song scooped up some millet gruel into a clay bowl and offered it to Huang. In between the dull, gray grains floated a couple of sad whole cucumbers and a number of hard carrot slices.

“Say, Song?” Huang peered down at the bowl, gingerly taking it from the woman.

“Hmm?”

“A thousand thanks, and all that... but...” Huang cleared his throat, “This is for the Academy supper isn’t it? That’s what they told me the bag was for, at least. And I’m just thinking.” he put the bowl on the counter, “The Academy supper.” He reiterated, “Maybe you’d like a little extra help preparing for it all? I think have a few ideas for...” He poked a cucumber.

“Oh, that’s fine, I’m almost done,” Song insisted politely. “Please, have a spoonful.”

Huang dipped a spoon into the porridge and looked back up at his gullible host, her awaiting smile edging him on. With a squint in one of his eyes, Huang slurped -- and crunched -- all in one bite. He gulped, “Gods that’s ter..” He paused, “Tasty.” He pounded a fist to his chest to help him swallow, “I’ll need your recipe.”

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy to hear! It’s really simple, really - water, millet, cucumbers and carrots. Oh, and salt. Lots and lots of salt.” She was about to dip her finger into the pot, then retracted it with a giggle. “Oh, silly me, no, that’s for the hardworking scholars.”

“Salt?” Huang looked up from his bowl, his tongue still awash with the overwhelming amount, “I didn’t even notice... it must’ve boiled out,” He frowned.

“Oh, really?” Song perked up and frowned into the boiling pot. “I was certain I’d… Oh, well, if you say so!” She walked over to a nearby sack, stuck her fist into it and pulled out a punch of salt. The white powdered drizzled onto the wooden floor like snow. She dropped it into the miserable porridge and stirred around. “There, that should be enough, I think!”

Huang leaned over her shoulder and appraised the boiling mess. With a flick of his finger, he launched a tiny sprinkle more, “Extra for a little luck, eh?” He winked.

“You’re pretty smart,” Song praised, then frowned and gently pushed him away. “Also a bit too close. I’m spoken for, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh no!,” Huang waved his hands, “I have no intentions on a family member. Just a man who knows his food, is all.” He hummed, a funny little smile coming to his face, “Well hold on now.” He rubbed his chin, “What man could have snagged such a prize as our resident master chef? Don’t tell me it’s Li Jian.” He held out a stopping palm, “You are too good for the likes of him!”

Song blushed a little and stifled a vain giggle. “W-well, if you must know, I am to be wed to the most handsome, dreamy, creamy (oh creamy!) man who ever walked this godly world--” She drew a breath and exhaled a sigh of adoration. She cupped her hands on her cheeks. “Urangtai.”

“Urangtai,” Huang said slowly, “Well that’s terrific.” He smiled wide, “When is the wedding!? I must attend!”

“Oh, it’s… Still being planned,” Song confessed with a huff. “My husband-to-be is just so busy and hardworking all the time… He just wants me (and our future forty children) to be happy. Oh, he’s just perfect, isn’t he?”

Before Huang could answer, an alabaster head poked in from the front entrance to the kitchen. Batbayaar looked between the two with a disinterested face before announcing in his deep voice, “Dinner time.” With a jump of his brows he nodded and slipped back out.

Huang closed his gaping mouth, still caught mid word, “Song, how about I help you bring out the food?”

---

The two busted out of the kitchen, arms completely full with steaming bowls and utensils. The dining room was still rather plain, with only a few decorations here and there on various shelves, and most of them taking the form of mini shrines to various gods of the Dreamers. The centerpiece was a long rectangle table carved out of a dark wood and polished to a shine. At the head, Zhong Wang sat with his hands placed in his lap, fingers entwined and a chatting Nergui relating some casual banter in his left ear, a curl on his lips. To his right, Wen Yang sat idling with a single copstick. Down the line was then Li Jian, Batbayaar, and Wen Taishen with a loop of empty chairs leading back to Nergui.

The first bowl was placed in front of Zhong Wang by a smiling Huang. The master looked up at the man as he placed the utensils down expertly. Wang squinted, Nergui growing quiet. Craning his head so he could get a full view of Huang he suddenly asked, “Who are you? You’re not Li Ying.”

“She was feeling ill today, so I took her delivery--” Huang started, his words interrupted by Song pointed an accusing finger at Wang.

“Master Wang, you’re being insensitive! This is Wen Huang, my long lost brother. He was raised by Chagatai’s family and later adopted into mine. He’s just doing his best, don’t call him out.”

Wang held up his hands for silence, a little too used to her outbursts, “Wen Song, please.” He shook his head, “Both of you, just finish your task and please sit.” He looked over at Huang, “I’m sorry, take a seat Wen Huang.”

“Wait,” Huang looked at Wang, “Finish or seat?”

Wang looked over at Nergui, the days work plastered on his face. Nergui cleared her throat and addressed Huang, “Finish your task and then sit.”

Huang smiled over at Song and the two completed their rounds diligently, a small chatter starting over the table once more. As the last two bowls were placed, Huang took a seat across from Li Jian, Song sitting beside him.

Li Jian looked up from his bowl, not having yet taken a bite. He pointed a spoon at Huang, “Chagatai’s family, eh?”

Huang nodded and Li Jian put his elbows on the table, folding his hands suspiciously, “Well I spent a lot of time with the Chagatai clan.”

“Did you?” Huang blinked, a nigh invisible blue sparkle flashing in the corner of his eye. Jian sneezed suddenly and nodded, “No, I didn’t.” He blinked at his own words, “I’m sorry, what I meant to say is absolutely not.” He looked down at his bowl with a slight wonder, “I’m trying to say, I’ve never met them.”

“Li Jim, what are you on about?” Nergui suddenly snapped.

“It’s Li Jian,” Jian corrected.

“That’s what I said, John,” She furrowed her brow, “Are you feeling alright?”

Jian scoffed and puffed up a little, “I feel like shit.” His shoulders drooped, “No wait. Really, I’m not fine.”

“Long Tim!” Wang narrowed his eyes, “Cursing at our dinner table? Really? I understand the day was long but...”

Wen Taishan reached out to pat Li Jian on the shoulder. “Jacob, are you alright? Would you like me to bring you something?”

Li Jian scurried the hand away, “I’m...” He huffed.

“Wen Taishan,” Zhong Wang cleared his throat, “Could you escort Limp Joe to his quarters, I fear work has tangled his mind and stomach.”

“You don’t understand!” Li Jian started, “I think that’s a great idea!”

Taishan nodded and took Li gently under the arm and tried to pick him up. Defeated, Li Jian hung his head and followed Taishan’s lead. As their voices became lower and lower, Taishan quietly said, “I’ll bring some hot tea and porridge to your room when you wake up, alright, Jonathan?” Then the door closed behind them.

Huang pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. Zhong Wang tucked a slant in his cheek as he watched the door close. As it clicked he looked down at the goop before him, “My friends.” He started, “May we pray our thanks to the Lord of the Harvest, Shengshi, and to our Elder Mothers and the God of Tendlepog.” He paused, “Now let us eat.”

It was almost instant. The first spoon slipped out of Nergui’s mouth and splattered across the table as she started to gag, Yan joining in with a retch of his own. Zhong Wang blinked wildly as water dripped out from the corners of his eyes, “S...saaaalt. So much...” He coughed, “Salt.”

Song blinked. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.” She took her own spoon and shoved a tall heap of the glue-like gruel into her mouth. A second passed before she spat it back into her bowl and coughed. “BLEH! Gods, that’s terrible! Huang, you lied to me!”

“Well now hold on!” Huang scrunched his nose and held out a spoon of his own goop to her, “That’s a heavy word.” He jabbed the spoon and took a bite off of it, “Mine is fine.” He pushed the bowl towards her, “Go ahead.”

Song looked at him in disbelief and immediately take a spoonful of his gruel. A surprisingly sweet taste trickled down over her, clamping her mouth shut. She looked over at Huang, a gentle blue twinkle in one of his eyes as what may have been an objection forming turned into a happy little hum.

Huang turned to the others, “See?”

Zhong Wang looked as if he had gained a new wrinkle on his late thirty year old face as he stared at the scene before him. Nergui had a corner of her sleeve in her mouth as she attempted to rub the salt from her teeth, Yang was braving another taste with the tip of his tongue, and Huang sat patiently while Song hummed a happy tune, seemingly content with the food.

Zhong Wang threw his cloth napkin into his bowl and stood up, “I have work to do,” He announced, a disappointment in his voice. He looked at Song, but simply sighed before starting to leave. Nergui popped up and quickly trailed him, muffling something through her sleeve. Yang gave the remaining two a look before letting his spoon plop back into the bowl. With a gentle shake of his head he stood up to leave.

The door clicked and suddenly Song was released from her humming, with Huang bursting into a fitful giggle. Song looked around in utter confusion and then back down at her bowl.

“Wh-where did everyone go?! What happened?” She picked up a limp cucumber. “Oh, how could I have been so stupid… I added way too much… Urangtai’s gonna hate me.”

“I don’t see how that has to do with any of this,” Huang kicked his boots up to the table and leaned back in his chair. A content smile formed on his face as he tucked his arms behind his head.

“He’s going to hear all about this, and that’s going to make him doubt my cooking, and he’ll start eating other women’s cooking, and then he’ll have an affair and start a family with them, and--” She slumped down in her chair and slammed her forehead on the table. “I’m no good…”

“Aw, come now,” Huang comforted, “I mean for all we know, he already eats other women’s cooking. I bet this won’t change a thing.”

“W-... What?” Song whimpered heartbrokenly.

Huang gave a sympathetic pout and swung his legs off the table. Sitting up right he turned to Song, his face bearing the look of a sudden revelation, “You know, Song, I just thought of something.” His voice was uncharacteristically cheery for the conversation.

Song broke out of a quiet sob and looked up with teary eyes. “What?”

“I know of a way to ensure that Urangtai does indeed love you, and not only that, but how to ensure that he could never look at another woman let alone think of them above you,” Huang tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Oh my, you’d be absolutely smothered with his love, I’m sure of it.”

Song gasped and rocketed to her feet, all despair replaced with desperate joy. “Really?! How?!”

Huang held up a palm, “Song, what I’m about to tell you must remain a secret... for now at least. Do you think you can keep such a secret... from all?”

Song nodded fiercely.

“Well,” Huang leaned in conspiratorially, “I know of a God.” he paused, “Not one you’ve likely ever heard of, but one who is willing to personally help you win your lover over.”

Song’s eyes went wide. “R-really?” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “Who is it?”

“Yullian,” Huang said softly, looking over his shoulder almost for show before dropping to a complete whisper, his eyes flashing a sudden gold, “Me.”

Song slowly pulled away, seemingly trying to verify whether what she had heard actually had been said. “Huang, it’s-... It’s arrogant to call yourself a-...” She shuffled her feet sheepishly. “There… Is no Wen Huang, is there? You tricked me completely.”

“Oh no, no!” Yullian flashed a frown. He flicked his wrist and a long stemmed flower with curling pink pedals appeared in his hand. He tucked it into the stunned woman’s hair and nodded, “I didn’t trick you so much as you suddenly became my little partner in fun, and now that we did something I wanted to do, I think it is only fair we make sure my new friend’s husband is indeed her ‘yours truly’. Imagine that? All in one afternoon you’ve befriended a god and by the week is over you’ll be sleeping under the arms of your beloved, warm and cozy.”

Song looked down still. She twiddled her thumbs and looked up momentarily. “Can you really do that?”

“Lady, you’ll have to fight your way to the door -- between your forty bright eyed children and loving husband, you’ll be surprised to ever feel anything but completely devoted to,” Yullian gave a single nod.

Twinkles filled Song’s eyes and a stupid smile began to form on her lips. She nodded in a slow, dreaming manner and even blurted out a small giggle. “I really like the sound of that. Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Well for now,” Yullian tapped his chin, “I’ll need you to simply relax, it must be jarring meeting a god so suddenly, let alone getting a wish granted just like that. So take the day off, soak in the sun, smile. If you run into Li Ying, tell her the weird bird is gone. Just really enjoy yourself.” Yullian gave a happy smile, “Oh and..” he wagged his finger and cleared his throat, “I forgot, after I do this for you and help you realize your wildest romantic fantasies with your beloved. AHEM.. Erm.. I’ll have just one itty bitty favor to ask of you in return, nothing big though.”

“Anything!” Song replied eagerly.

“Great!” Yullian silently clapped his hands, “Then I’ll visit you tonight after Heliopolis has set and then and there we can sort it all out. Enjoy your day... friend.” Yullian winked and left the room.
Song stood still for a quiet moment. Making sure nobody was around first, she then skipped into the air and squealed silently to herself while victoriously throwing her arms in the air. She bounced around in circles, giggling triumphantly to herself.

She would get her love! She would win!

Might

Yullian starting: 2MP 4FP

0mp (discount) spent on temporarily cursing Li Jian to have their name misspoken and reverse their vocal affirmatives.

0mp (discount) spent on temporarily cursing Wen Song to hum happily whenever she tried to speak.

Their faces, priceless.
Ending: 2MP 4FP

Prestige

Hermian Academy start: 0
+1 Minor role
+1 Major role
+1 Funtime with friends

End: 3 prestigios.

Summary

We open with Yullian finding the great dreamer city. We skip to the academy where an obsessed Zhong Wang is scouring the works of Shengshi. A concerned Nergui enters his study and insists that he eats and then after a brief confrontation and apology, Nergui invites him to have supper with her and the other apprentices, cooked by Wen Song.

Wen Song is cooking really bad porridge, her culinary skills more than lacking. A man by the name of Huang (Yullian) enters the kitchen and drops off a delivery of food for the pantry. Song declares she never met him before and he convinces her that he is a bastard of the Wen clan. Song buys it and she offers him the gruel. He upon finding out that it is extremely salty, suggests that it isn’t and without taste testing, Song believes him and adds MUCH more salt.

Casually she drops that she is madly inlove with Urangtai and then dinner is called. At dinner, Wang is too tired to even question Song’s explanation of who the hell Huang is and lets him join them for dinner. Li Jian is not buying it however, but before he could counter Yullian’s disguise, he is cursed and hilarity ensues. Eventually Jian is forced to leave the room, Yullian is safe once more.

A short grace by Wang and they dig into the gruel. Immediately they all start hacking at its saltiness and Song is upset. She claims that Huang lied to her, and in response Yullian has her try his own gruel, which curses her to hum happily as if it is just fine. Sick of this shit, Wang leaves for his study and is followed by his apprentices.

Yullian uncurses Song and she bawls her eyes out, worried that word of her failure will leak out and force Urangtai to leave her. Yullian reveals his godly nature and gets her to calm down, agreeing to not only make Urangtai fall madly in love with her, but to never have eyes for another woman ever. Song is pleased and then Yullian agrees to do it in return for a favor later on.