E6 Mamut Round 1 Event: Party at the Towerhome!

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-12, 02:11 AM (ISO 8601)

Worldmaster Thicket sat upon his throne in front of the Towerhome, gloating. His long, ceremonial robe and feathered headpiece were a bit warm in the light of the morning sun, but he did not mind. Today was the day that he, the greatest Ko to ever live (except Grandfather Tangle), would prove those so-called Dream Speakers for frauds. Every Ko knew that the world ended at the borders of their land. Any rumors of so-called ‘other lands’ were false, silly, and downright dumb.

He had issued a challenge to them, those invaders from the Land of Dreams. Thought they could crawl into reality? Not on his watch! His chest puffed out at the thought. Oh, they had been so dismayed at his challenge. They were almost shaking in fear. It was simple, really. If there were any so-called ‘other lands’ out there, then the Dream Speakers should have no problem sending out invitations to them all. Alluring invitations. Sure to draw in any and all. Come! Join us for dinner. We will have food, drinks, and games. Yes, grand games of physical prowess and mental might! Who would refuse such an offer?

And so, he sat on his throne and gloated. The appointed day had come and no sign of any outsiders yet. Nor would there be. He would sit here a little longer, at the base of the grand tower that served as the main entrance to his underground kingdom, and enjoy a nice bask in the sun. Then, he would return to his kingdom, enjoy the feast being prepared to celebrate his triumph, and spend the evening with those closest to him.

Speaking of which… He looked over at Zinnia, the red-scaled attendant standing a few steps below him. More than an attendant, actually. She smiled at him. He smiled back. Today was indeed a good day. The sun was warm, his belly was full, and the day was pleasant. He felt his eyes drooping, but resisted the urge. Then again, why not? Flint, the warren’s best warrior, was by his side. There was no danger here. Thicket let his jaws split into a massive yawn and leaned back. Maybe a short nap.

He heard a horn blow in the distance and sat up straight. That was the signal for someone approaching. No, multiple someones. An army! His tail lashed back and forth nervously, stirring the dust behind him. It couldn’t be, could it?
And yet, he soon saw them himself, emerging from the forest path and ascending the wide road that ran up the hill to the Tower. Others. Outsiders. Foreigners. And as they drew near, his heart rose into his throat, beating faster and faster. This was a disaster! He was the Worldmaster! But this mean the world was bigger than he knew. What to do? He had to let them in. He had to fulfill his promise, lest they be angry. He had no choice. He gave the order.

“Prepare,” he said, voice squeaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Prepare the Warren to receive…guests.”

Zinnia looked at him, eyes wide, a little scared. “Thick—”

“You heard me,” Thicket repeated, “I…I have to think of a speech. And I think I have about…” He gauged the distance between the approaching visitors and where he sat, ready to receive them. “Five…six minutes.”

Thicket was wrong. The visitors’ long legs carried them to his throne in three. A line of Ko stood on either side of the stairway to the Tower’s entrance, eyeing the visitors with visible awe and not a little terror. Thicket rose from his chair to greet them. “Welcome,” he said in his native tongue, a tongue which would be quite familiar to the Scions of the Thalaz'Ir and Clan Alqar, “Welcome…er…do any of you understand what I am saying?”

Spoiler: Character List

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~~World~~Towermaster Thicket: Ruler of the Ko, the largest of egos, but feeling very out of his depth right now. Trying hard not to show his complete and utter surprise.
Zinnia: Thicket's primary partner. Young, beautiful (to the Ko), and red-scaled. Quick on her feet and flexible.
Flint: The strongest Ko warrior. A bit more grim and silent, but put up a good show versus the Goliath Challenger
Scree and Berry: The Ko-balls. Two male Ko that were once drummers, but now seem to have a new calling.
Skitter and Scurry: Female Ko who definitely do not cheat at games of chance. Nope.

**Ausar** · 2020-07-12, 05:22 AM (ISO 8601)

Cohmaircraobh (Council-tree) Raou-Lauf slowly strode towards the mass of small creatures gathered by an odd, thin rock formation rising above the landscape. The nest of sparrows chirping in his upper branches was a comforting, natural sound, in stark contrast to the hubbub of nasal chitters the small creatures were making ahead of him. He stood about 25ft tall while stooped, deep reddish-brown bark & leaves spread in a wide canopy that shook each time he took a ponderous step forwards. The rest of the Conclave waited a few minutes stride away, in case these small creatures proved fickle. As he came to rest at the base of the rock formation, he realised it had been worked! My my, he thought, these creatures were quite busy indeed. The strange, seemingly half-bird creature standing in front of an oddly shaped boulder seemed to be making sounds at him, so he slowly twisted about, looking for one of the slightly larger creatures that had informed the Conclave of this whole to-do. "Hrrrrm... Who here speaks- hrrrm... the sound of... the trees?" This took about a minute to say - the in- and out-rush of air and creaking of wood through the 'mouth' just below the branching canopy on the trunk was quite tuneful.

Note; the Deru have quite poor vision - most things past 10 metres are little (or large) coloured blurs. The animals that live in their canopies and accompany them typically tell them what's happening around them if it is more detailed than they can see. There are several deer and a few boars trudging alongside the ponderous Deru, and more than a few sparrows flitting around the canopy above.

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-07-12, 05:48 AM (ISO 8601)

The delegation from Thun are among the first to approach, three great men of stone striding with a swinging, methodical gait. The one in the middle is slightly taller than the others, standing at around eight feet, made of a finely polished marble, mostly smooth across save for some markings on the arms, straight lines and regular shapes. Their face is simple, two "eyes" carved symmetrically on the front of the head. On either side and slightly behind stand two shorter Scrim. To the left is one made of a cloudier marble, with whorls of brown across the white, and with a face carved to resemble something almost human. Standing to the right is one made of the same clear marble as the first, but with patterns carved all across them- spirals, waves, whorls and images in an almost eye-watering dance across the surface of their stone.

The three move almost silently except for their footsteps, which resound all the more heavily for their near-perfect synchronization. At a respectful distance from the throne, the three stop, and listen to the short speech from the small being before them. With great care, the central figure bows slowly, and then rises up again. They speak with a smooth and low voice.

"Indeed, your manner of speech is familiar to us, oh great scaled one. My name is Ulun and I stand before you as the speaker for all of Thun, by agreement of the Scrim who comprise it. With me are Scrimspeakers Lurn, to my left, and Tior, to my right. I hope shall have the pleasure of meeting you again, as they suffer from that unfamiliar plague known as wanderlust, and they have expressed a desire to represent Thun in lands far from home and in matters where I cannot. It is our pleasure to be welcomed into your domain, and we hope that this shall not be our last such engagement."

With that said, they bow again and, without leaving any opportunity for reply, all three retreat from the throne to allow others to approach. They talk among themselves, low and quiet, and watch the other delegations.

**Gengy** · 2020-07-12, 09:26 AM (ISO 8601)

Far-trek Boldly Goes

Spoiler: Weeks Before the Event

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Lost-way Far-trek had finally gotten permission to explore from his Snort Tusker, Wise-weep Thumpstrong, arguably the best shaman of all the Uzii. The Snort Tusker had even insisted he take a Shaman along, and Lost-way was ecstatic to have the honor to lead his Den brothers in not only going beyond the borders of Swampum, but also protecting Shaman More-Talk who, contrary to his name, was mostly silent a lot. That was fine with Lost-way. Lost-way loved talking, so was happy to fill the silence. Lost-way's Den brothers helped them move through wild and strange lands, and they kept moving north, crossing wide rivers and seeing so many strange things that even Lost-way was having trouble remembering exactly all the things they had discovered in Mamut.

Which was absolutely not a problem. After all, they just had to go south, go through four forests, and cross three rivers to get back to Swampum. Or was it four rivers and three forests? Lost-way shurgged. They'd figure it out. He was good at exploring, his Den Mother had told him so. She'd also said something about him not being great at something else but Lost-way forgot what that was, since he was too busy being happy at being praised by the Den Mother!

"Lost-way! Lost-way! Look look! Found thing!" One of his Den brothers exclaimed, as two other Uzii came from out of the forest ahead (fourth or fifth forest?) with a thing between them. Lost-way stared at the thing amazed. This was the best find since they'd found and cooked an entire pack of wolves two weeks ago.

"Good! So good!" Lost-way barked, excited. "Bring here, to me and Shaman. Shaman More-Talk!"

Calling for the Uzii in white furs - hard to find in Swampum - the young Shaman moved from his fire to come sit near Lost-way. Lost-way grinned from behind his tusks. "See!? See Shaman More-Talk? Much good things up north! Is this thing good for eating?"

"No."

"Oh. Then is this thing good for fighting?"

"No."

Lost-way was becoming frustrated. Can't eat it. Can't fight it. The wolf pack you could fight and eat. This thing wasn't good for either? Boring. "Huh. What this thing good for, then?"

Shaman More-Talk pulled at his tusk; a habit he had when he was thinking. He stood up and walked over to the thing in between Lost-way's brothers. Gently pushing their warrior spears away from the thing the Shaman walked around it in a circle. Snorting a few times, the Shaman's staff roughly hit the ground, and Lost-way thought for the flicker of a second he saw a second Uzii floating in the air behind More-Talk, like a wispy ghost aura emanating from the Shaman. Blinking, the Far-trek explorer rubbed his eyes and only saw the Shaman again. Lost-way was probably tired, but... Shaman were weird. Shaman didn't like to fight if they didn't have to. Snort Tusker Thumstrong was still good at fighting, but he too was a Shaman and Lost-way had only heard stories about how he'd wrestled a Swamp Cat with one arm. Lost-way didn't know any stories about Shaman More-Talk fighting any Swamp Cats, and More-Talk had both arms.

Lost-way was about to say something, maybe get his Den brothers to poke the thing with their spears, when the Shaman finished walking around the thing. Turning back towards Lost-way, the Shaman grunted, signaling he was done inspecting.

"Well, Shaman? What this thing good for?"

More-talk put both hands on his staff, and a slow crafty grin spread across his face, a rare display of happiness that Lost-way hadn't seen since they'd started their journey. "Parties."

The Shaman laughed. Lost-way shouted with joy and laughed. The Den brothers raised their spears and joined their laughter. The thing laughed with them.

The Uzii Arrive at Towerhome

There was a snap as the sound of something breaking proceeded the influx of a bunch of stout boar-men rushing into Towerhome, and one of them was now holding a spear that had been broken in half. Another Uzii pointed at the broken spear, and proceeded to let out a deep grunt of mirth at the misfortune. The one with the broken spear threw it down on the ground and leapt at the one who had chortled, knocking him down to the ground. They began to wrestle with each other, much to the apparent amusement of the Uzii around them who created a circle of bodies to serve as a ring. Their chanting became cacophonous. Another small group of Uzii had found the food, and were busily shoving it in their mouths, completely ignoring any of the nearby Ko who might be trying to stop them. A particularly strong looking Uzii had his hands on the Ko's rain collector - more of a water bowl to an Uzii - and was lifting the entire thing to his lips, pouring it out. Some of it actually made it into his mouth. Most of it was either on the floor or covering his fur armor.

They all had furs of some kind. Simple tunics, really, created from what appeared to be some kind of feline. Each boar-man stood (or wrestled on the ground for two of them) at roughly five feet in height, if not a little shy of that. They had strong looking arms, and feet that were tipped in a tough looking hoof. Each one looked dirtier than the last, as though they had been traveling for a very long time, and all desperately needed a bath.

Three other beings walked around the Uzii that now filled Towerhome's reception hall. Two of them were Uzii; the one leading had an exuberant look upon his tusked face, seemingly unconcerned by the display of the rest of his race. His furs were not furs at all, but some kind of leather from a reptile or amphibian. He did not carry a spear, but instead there was a stout wooden hilt at his side, ending in a rough looking stone hammer. The other Uzii wore white furs and walked with a staff. He had an expression of resigned patience as he looked around at the mess being made.

The third being was the thing the Uzii had found amidst the forests: a Truthseer. The translator stood nearby the two Uzii in the forefront, and was doing what he could to help the Uzii understand what was being said, while making the Uzii's own words as understandable as possible. "Honored King of the Ko, these are the Uzii of Swampum, from far to the south. Leading them is Lost-way Far-trek the Explorer, of Clan Far-trek. These..."

A hand waved out to the twelve or so Uzii currently wrestling, eating food, spilling water, and generally wandering around, "...are his Den brothers. Also with them to provide wisdom is Shaman More-Talk."

Letting out a loud snort, the Uzii in white chuffed something in their language that sounded like a barking command. The Truthseer didn't translate, but the results were obvious. All the Uzii Den brothers mostly stopped what they were doing - they all stopped, but not till the one with the broken spear got one last headbutt in on his brother - and quickly formed up in two lines behind the Shaman, the Uzii with the hammer, and the Truthseer.

"They are here to... party." The Truthseer said carefully. "I will now translate for them."

Proving quite adept at what was stated, the Truthseer's translation was almost like the Uzii leaders spoke for themselves. The Shaman spoke first, turning to address the Uzii behind him. "You lot. Quit it! This not your den! You all make fools of yourselves! You make fools of us! We here to party, yes, but we not start yet!"

Pointing his staff behind him towards the King, but not at Thicket, the Shaman seemed to be waving at Zinnia. "Worse. You do this in front of local Den Mother?! Shame! Shame upon Far-trek clan! Apologize!"

A collective grunt of contrition came from all the Uzii Den brothers, as they all suddenly found themselves looking at the floor, either each individually drawing a circle in the ground with their hoof, or tugging nervously at their own tusks. "Sorry Den Mother."

"She no hear you like that! You sound like mewling Swamp Kitten! Speak with pride! Speak like Uzii warriors! Or does your Den only raise runts?!"

With a snap to attention, eleven spear butts hit the floor at the same time, followed by an Uzii in the back falling forward to the ground as he forgot his spear was broken. Still, they all yelled out at the same time, "SORRY DEN MOTHER!"

"Wise Den Mother, this one is also sorry." Stepping forward and looking directly at Zinnia (completely ignoring the Ko King), Lost-way Far-trek pulled out his hammer and lay it's stone upon the ground while kneeling over it's haft. "Lost-way is respon... responsip... respond sip bull... Lost-way is in charge of this band of fools. Truthseer Party-crash [that's not my name, but it's what they call me!] got us all very excited. Not an excuse. We happy to be here. Thank you for invite. We make mess. You tell me. How should Lost-way punish brothers for mess?"

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-07-12, 09:47 AM (ISO 8601)

Ulun leans over to their left, and murmurs quietly to Lurn "We shall have to reinforce the dining hall if we invite any of them as guests."

**Electriccat** · 2020-07-12, 09:59 AM (ISO 8601)

Efficient but brightly colored clothing an ornamentation marks the Hraban as they enter, with Heinrich Wurzelstarke aus Tirol walking in the lead, flanked by two quiet types. The Hraban enter, their black feathers dark against their clothing, the nearly gold colored tips of the feathers on Heinrich mark his clan and affiliation. The other two with their blood red tipped feathers staying quietly behind.

As they approach Worldmaster Thicket one of the Uzii pushed aside from their…boisterous entrance bumped into the Hraban on the right. What happened next is tough to completely make out as there is a blur of motion, speed versus strength, leaving both separate, yet standing with what can only be described as smiles on both faces. The Hraban bows and then resumes his position.

Speaking through the translator, "I great you Worldmaster, I am the current First Among Equals, Heinrich, I bring a gift of story, something from the before the times of red sky the tells of our shared world." He hands over a loosely wound bit of weaved…plant matter with a large number of seemingly strange scribbles all over it.

"We hope to make it so that all of our…expansion into the greater world is fruitful and orderly. Chaos benefits no one. We hope that the exchange of thoughts and ideas can flow amongst us all present."

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-12, 10:31 AM (ISO 8601)

Four Days before her Journey Ells Ogra was in the fields carefully tending to a limping Koroleva Nochi. The flower was extremely delicate. One wrong move and the flower would not only die, but the plant itself would wither. She was concentrating on the flower when a shadow fell over it and obscured her work. She sighed and looked up to find Witch-Mother Ociete Lareneg standing before her. The Witch-Mother was unbent by age but was leaning on her cane garlanded in Silphium. It was unusual for the Witch-Mother to come to her here in the Ells Commune instead of calling her over during one of the many wine-soaked rituals in the cliffs. Ogra grunted and lifted herself up to greet Lareneg. The younger woman raised her hands palmed up in supplication towards the older and leader of one of the Four Faiths of the Targiz. Lareneg waived aside the greeting and motioned to Ogra to walk with her.

As they walked Lareneg whispered to Ogra in the tongue of the Targiz:

What do you know of the outside world? The Sisterhood of the Truthseers?
Nothing Witch-Mother, I am not one to believe in Fables. My Faith is Strong.
Hush, Child. This is not a test. I know where you stand Lareneg snorted in sarcastic derision. She sighed and continued. The World is wide and larger than you think. It may be an aborted husk, but it was fully grown before it was expelled from our mother. I've met the Truthseers once when I was younger, younger than you now. Between our two Sisterhoods I sense a great Sorority. One of their members approached me a couple days ago. There will be a conclave of Nations. You will attend with the Sister and let us know what you see. Keep an eye on the Truthseers specifically. Befriend them.

***

Three days before her Journey, Ells Ogra was in the Arena wrestling with Redit Locirga. Youth did not win out before the experience of the older wrestler. As he pinned her to the holy soil of the OORT, he whispered in foul breath into her ear:

I know that the Old Crone met an outsider. I know that she is sending you with them. We need to know what's out there. You know my foolish son and his dreams. Come back preaching Caution the last word was punctuated with a painful arm bar and Ells Ogra let out a groan of pain, but she understood her task.

***

Two days before her Journey, Ells Orga was attending a wine drinking ceremony with her fellow priests of Ukoism. It was peaceful, a lizard sitting on a rock hissed languidly. The other priests poured the flower wine on the clay blows, spilling it in a detailed choreographed dance. No words were exchanged but Ells Orga was left with ten clay barrels of holy wine that were intended to be transported to the outside world. Ten Barrels of the fermented gods of Beauty, Luck, Happiness, and other Gods of Joy. One private clay bottle of wine given to her in private. Before she left the Uko Shrine, Ells Ogra leaned back and looked at the sky. The blue flash a couple weeks ago was long gone, but life was already changing. The lazy lizard suddenly darted off the rock and into the brush and wild flowers.

***

The last day before her Journey, Ells Ogra stood before the Senate-Bishops of Olkan. She had just heard the new Law that they had passed and thus she had heard of the expansion of the One-God himself. She nodded in acceptance.

***

The Journey was uneventful except for one evening. Ogra, and three other Goliath easily carried the ten clay pots of Flower Wine on their backs. The lone Truthseer walked silently besides them. They had stopped for the night and set up camp. Ogra had not talked with the Truthseer except a few polite words in greeting. She thought of her as Lareneg's agent, not her friend. Yet while Lareneg, Orga would admit only to herself, seemed a foolish old woman, the Truthseer seemed self-possessed and wise beyond her young face. She was tiny, but walked among giants with self-assurance. Ogra looked at her and offered to pour her some wine from the Clay Pots. The woman demurred.

What is your name? Tell me about your sisterhood?

The Truthseer looked at her with bright eyes shining almost feral in the firelight.

In due time Sister

It was only but a moment afterwards that they both went to sleep. It was an uneasy sleep.

***

The Goliath saw the Tower from far way and were awed. Their own homes with thatch huts and even their holy places were not built of stone upon stone. The Tower was tall enough for four Goliath standing on each other's shoulders to enter. Prior to entering the four left the Truthseer and went to pick flowers to make a traditional garland of peace. They found Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy, the Gods of Peace, and made themselves crowns of such to signify that they were watched over and judged but such Gods. Once adorned they entered the Tower and looked upon its inhabitants. Small lizards, Hogs, Birds . . . Walking Rocks and Trees. It was a menagerie. It was beyond expectation. Ells Ogra looked open mouthed at the Truthseer and saw her smile at her ignorance. She was being made a fool of. Sister indeed.

Leaving her Truthseer and leaving the other Goliath, Ells Ogra approached the central chair and realized that she did not know who called the conclave or who was in charge. She instead smiled and slowly turned around with her arms outstretched with their palms up, speaking to each delegation, letting the Truthseer translate her words:

We Bring Wine for All.

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-12, 10:59 AM (ISO 8601)

Unfortunately, none of the Ko know what the whispering of wind and creak of branches signifies, though surely the Seers do.

However, Zinnia does look up to Thicket and mouth, "it's a tree!" Thicket makes a subtle gesture for her to be quiet and not offend the massive wooden monstrosity that could smash them very easily.

Spoiler

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I am not sure if you want to rely on Rando, as he will have to be present to some extent at all the events, but maybe the two of you can come to some arrangement, Ausar.

'Great scaled one' does wonders for Thicket's ego and confidence. The diminutive lizard-man's chest puffs up and he sits a little straighter in his seat. The ceremonial, feathered crown on his head even seems to stand a little straighter. He nods to the Scrim, adopting a more noble and imperious bearing more like a ruler. "We greet you," he says, "And bid you welcome to our homes." He hopes that is the right sort of thing to say. He was going by the feel right now. The other Ko take their cue from him and echo the statement. A soft mutter of, "Welcome," washes over the Scrim.

The disturbance called by the Uzii does take a bit of the wind out of Thicket's sails, so to speak. He eyes them with equal parts disapproval and trepidation. A few of the Ko do try to stop and corral them back into the designated greeting-area, but are very ineffective. Seeing them run roughshod over his home does stir something within Thicket, though. A small, hot fire of anger ignites in his chest. He is about to rise and deal with them personally when their own leader calls them to account. But then, they address Zinnia as if she was in charge, when he is clearly the one sitting on the Exalted Throne and descended from the magnificent Tangle! His lips curl downwards, but then a thought occurs to him. Perhaps...they did not think themselves worthy of addressing him? Yes, that had to be it. His magnificence was undeniable, and his clothing fine. These giants must be intimidated by his appearance! A smirk replaces the snarl and, with a magnanimous gesture, he indicates for Zinnia to answer them.

The fair-scaled Ko takes a few steps forward and clears her throat. "Honored guests," she says, scrambling to find the right words, "In the name of Worldmaster Thicket, emperor of all the land he surveys, honored descendant of Tangle the Liberator, and other titles too many and too lengthy to recite in full." She glances back and winks at him. "We would not wish you to miss the festivities of the day, but..." Her mind races, trying to gauge what the foreigners would accept. "...but surely giants of such strength and energy would not mind demonstrating it during the festivities for the delight and appreciation of all." Good. Excellent. They seemed the sort to want to show off, and it would give the Ko a good estimate of their abilities, just in case.

She glances back at Thicket, who nods to her encouragingly. Then, she steps down from the raised dais and approaches the Uzii. "Come, let me show you around..."

=====

As the Uzii move forward, Thicket turns his attention the Hraben. Their manners are polite and their tone respectful. Good. The mythical outsiders were recognizing his greatness! All according to plan. Well, he hadn't planned this per se, but he was perfectly willing to claim that he had later in order to gloat. It was a favorite pastime of his, gloating.

His eyes fall on the tangle of plant matter and his head tilts to the side, inquisitive. However, aloud he says, "Greetings, First-Among-Equals. I am Worldmaster Thicket, ruler of all the land visible from the Towerhome's peak. The Ko have many stories, but I look forward to hearing yours."

=====

At the mention of 'wine', Thicket sits up a little straighter. Such a thing had not been present in their lands since the days of Tangle the Clever, Handsome, and Daring! Legend said that it was the favorite drink of the old Wizard-Master, and that the lack of it made him irritable and angry. "We accept your gift gladly," he told the giant. Why was everyone a giant? Weren't there anymore normal-sized people's out there? "Thank you."

Spoiler: An Outline of Things to Come (IMPORTANT!)

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The Feast of Welcoming is set up in the first level of the Towerhome. Unlike most of the Ko's dwellings, this is sized for a normal-sized human, and should be comfortable for many other races. Still, it is not comparable to a modern-day meeting hall, so the first level itself can only house the feast-table and many crude, stone pitchers full of drink. Most prominent are bowls and bowls of Kaff, a potent, energizing drink brewed from the Kaffee Beans native to the area. A great firepit sits in the center of the room, and will be lit later when the day ends and the shadows grow long.

Down below, anyone that can fit in a Ko-sized tunnel would find the rooms where many Ko labor to double the amount of food prepared, as they were not expecting so many guests. Or any. However, outside and behind the tower is a space marked off for ritual contests of strength. The Ko will, for obvious reasons, be officiating, though someone could challenge one if they wished and see if they can coerce them into wrestling, spear-throwing, or other such feats. Here is where Flint, an older Ko, but still considered the strongest, will be.

The firepit inside the tower also makes an excellent area for storytelling, and as the visitors enter they will find a few Ko painted in a menagerie of colors to liven up their scale-colors already performing on drums while servants scurry around in the background. The music is led by two enthusiastic male Ko with blue paint streaked across their green scales, named Scree and Berry respectively.

On the second floor of the tower, however, there are several tables set up with strange games of chance for the guests to use. A number of Ko will be hanging around in this area, as they have a high opinion of their own intelligence and will more eagerly engage in battles of wits than contests of strength. Accusations of cheating are absolutely ridiculous, you just suck at the game, so there, neener-neener. These festivities are led by Mosspool, a quiet male, and Skitter and Scurry, two females with mischievous looks in their eyes.

On an important cultural note, clothing is considered a sign of status among the Ko. While most of the characters you interact with will be wearing some, if you pluck random servants out of the crowd, do not expect them to conform to your people's standard of dress.

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-12, 01:04 PM (ISO 8601)

At the translation of Thicket's "Thank You", Ells Ogra inclined her flowered bequeathed head in welcome. She motioned for the ten great clay barrels of wine to be brought to the servants of Towerhome and opened. The three other Goliaths, without the use of language or tongue, show the Ko how to tap the barrels. One could, of course simply remove the top and ladle the wine into a bowl, but for a party such as this feast the method is an even simpler one. To take a bone ax and a stone and make a small crack on the bottom where indicated by the potter. The crack forms a small hole from which the God inside tried to return down to the soil. The clay holds strong for it is formed in such a way that it will not splinter with this intentional break. And once such cracked, the wine flows until it is drunk.

Of the ten barrels there was a Wisteria Wine, the blood of the God of Welcoming. A wine that is not overbearing with a subdued floral scent that grows stronger and stronger and a taste of just a touch of minerals. There was Vervain Wine, the humors of the Goddess of Protection from Spiritual Harm. An immediately approachable wine, offering aromas of dried fruit, and Strawberry compote. On the palate soft flavor of raspberries and the signature minerality of the clay pots of the Targiz. There was the Sticky Catchfly Wine, the sweat of the Lord of Dance. A complex wine with an aroma of aromas of dried fruit, and pomegranate juice. There was the Shamrock Wine, the marrow of the Queen of Luck. A harsh wine of herbals taste and strong minerality as well as the smell of dried current. There was the Plumeria Wine, the tears of the Child-God of New Beginnings. A bright wine with an aroma of watermelon and dried roses and on the palate, soft flavors of bright red berries and star anise. There was the Ivy Wine, from the skin of the Mother of Faithfulness. A surprising wine with no herbal taste and instead the conviction of candied cherry, rose petal, and pomegranate tea. There was the Gorse Wine, from the fermented nails of the God of Love throughout the Seasons. A strong herbal wine tasting of the forest floor and toasted nuts. There was the Freesia Wine, from the maidenhead of the Virgin Goddess of Innocence. A changing wine that starts with the smell of strawberry compote and bright cherries that give way to blackberries and fresh forest floor. There was the Delphinium Wine, from the breath of the God of Levity. An elevated wine with tones with well balanced acidity and tannins. This wine is lively on the palate, with a long crisp finish. And, there was the Cowslip Wine, from the spoken boasts of the Bachelor God of Winning Grace. A brash wine in which the taste of wild berries and exotic spices meld beautifully together.

And each of these clay barrels was opened and their contents given to all in abundance.

**Zayuz** · 2020-07-12, 03:45 PM (ISO 8601)

A duo approaches the Ko stone tower, having traveled through forests and over hills on the promise of attending a 'momentous occasion' that the omens had suggested. Perhaps the Dream-Speakers had promised it too, but their reputation was not well regarded among the population - they preferred to keep to their own readings. One among the two is human, with light brown skin and a warrior's stature. With a weathered spear in hand and a small host of assorted gemstones decorating all his neckline, ears, and nose, he seemed to be from a land of many nice shiny things - a display that was more likely to set him as a target for future raids than inspire much awe. He wore only simple grey robes that contrasted the shiny jewels, and his companion came with identical garb despite the difference in gender. She was a medusa, with skin that scintillated like the luxury that the man beside her wore and seemed almost to be made of smoothed stone that the delegation of Thun might find almost familiar. With lazy but protective snakes for hair and no ability to turn others to stone, she seemed much more harmless than her athletic companion who took the lead.

The two of them stayed behind the other delegations as they arrived, whispering to one another in what seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and wariness. They certainly recognized the Ko's way of speaking and in fact the language, responding to the question of 'do any of you understand me?' with the male's distinct raising of his spear in confirmation. After shyly watching most others greet the Ko (finding much amusement from the Uzii in particular, and fascination with goliath-made wine), the duo approached with nervous steps towards their outgoing host. The man speaks. "We know your tongue, and you have invited us here on the dawn of the clean sky. It is a good omen, a great omen, and we are glad to be here to drink to a new age with you." As he talks, he gradually breaks into a wide smile. The woman is more stoic, adding, "Perhaps this means that you will soon both go home. Your language is from the Arrakh-Rah, isn't it? The blight may have left with the dark skies." The man shrugs, seeming unconvinced.

"I am Kalm, chief of Alqar." He continues. "And I am Merine, from over the mountains. The stars have guided us here, from the Blessed Vale." She points in the direction of their (current) homeland, indicating that those far off mountain ridges are where more people like themselves might be. They both look to the Ko, waiting to see what he makes of this...

(References for Merine and Kalm)

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-12, 04:38 PM (ISO 8601)

Thicket will try the wine once the rest of his guests have moved on into the party. Though he would never admit it, he is a little frightened to up and leave his throne for the moment.

However, no such restriction applies to the musicians inside the main hall. Scree and Berry spot the new drink and quickly find someone to take over for them. The pair scamper over, staring at the liquids now on top. "What's this?" Berry muses.

"Drink?" Scree offers, "It smells strange, but..." He sniffs again. "Not bad..."

The pair of them grab drinking bowls and hold them out to the goliath managing the distribution of the wine, eager looks on their faces. Scree has the presence of mind to also bring a bowl of Kaff in exchange, balanced in a crude grip formed by coiling his tail.

=====

Tangle nods to the pair's words, trying to appear sage and wise. However, their words are not conducive to that illusion. He has, frankly speaking, no idea what they are talking about. "Chief Kalm. Mistress Merine," he says, "The Ko have no other home than this, and our language was given to us by our old, foolish master." His chest puffs up. "My ancestor, Tangle the Clever, Handsome, and Bold, slew the Master with the cleverest of plots, and the most marvelous of schemes! His cunning and stealth paved the way that all Ko now follow!"

**Ausar** · 2020-07-12, 05:05 PM (ISO 8601)

The sound of ragged breathing gets slowly more pronounced behind Raou-Lauf, as clambering over a fallen tree and jogging towards the towering Deru is a truthseer, decidedly exhausted. He arrives just as Raou is finishing his ritual greetings, and doubles over, chest heaving. After thirty seconds or so, he slowly straightens up. "Yes yes, I am seer Leafhair- (he does indeed appear to have leaves woven throughout his hair) and this is Counciltree Red-Leaf. Hwoo!" He pauses to catch his breath once more. Raou continues his speech, the sparrows punctuating some of his later remarks with their own squawks. Leafhair inclined his head towards the feathered headdress and said "Red-Leaf greets you, Worldmaster, although it will take me a minute to explain you are not in fact part bird. He is delighted to meet new children of the Sannha and asks if you have a stream nearby he and the rest of the Aster Council might drink from? He also asks-" Leafhair waved up at the Towerhome behind Thicket "-why you have piled so many stones up, as it would seem like difficult work for small creatures." He then turned to Raou and began speaking in the sound of the trees.

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-07-12, 05:59 PM (ISO 8601)

A Scion of the Thalaz'ir has arrived.

As the meeting carries on, a latecomer arrives to the summons. Dark skin and fiery eyes, clad in a thin white robe, a sun priestess of Na'karat stands at the back of the assembled crowd for a moment. Hands clasped together in front of her waist, she takes in the myriad peoples around her, and picks up the distinct sound of Arrakhi being spoke by some of them.

Approaching the foot of the Ko's throne, stepping up beside the delegates of Clan Alqar but paying them no mind. "Greetings on behalf of the Scions of the Thalaz'ir, his most holiness, son of day and night. I am Gezhe, priestess of sun. You speak the tongue of our forefathers, the Arrakhi-who-fell. How is this possible?"

Gezhe glances to the assembled crowd, noting the Goliaths in particular and smiling subtly beneath her ornate headdress. The high priestess would have much to hear about. Once noted, she returns her gaze to the 'Worldmaster', Thicket, offering a coy smile.

(Reference for Sun Priestess Gezhe)

**Zayuz** · 2020-07-12, 06:25 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Curious Linguistics

Show

Originally Posted by Miltonian

Tangle nods to the pair's words, trying to appear sage and wise. However, their words are not conducive to that illusion. He has, frankly speaking, no idea what they are talking about. "Chief Kalm. Mistress Merine," he says, "The Ko have no other home than this, and our language was given to us by our old, foolish master." His chest puffs up. "My ancestor, Tangle the Clever, Handsome, and Bold, slew the Master with the cleverest of plots, and the most marvelous of schemes! His cunning and stealth paved the way that all Ko now follow!"

Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

A Scion of the Thalaz'ir has arrived.

As the meeting carries on, a latecomer arrives to the summons. Dark skin and fiery eyes, clad in a thin white robe, a sun priestess of Na'karat stands at the back of the assembled crowd for a moment. Hands clasped together in front of her waist, she takes in the myriad peoples around her, and picks up the distinct sound of Arrakhi being spoke by some of them.

Approaching the foot of the Ko's throne, stepping up beside the delegates of Clan Alqar but paying them no mind. "Greetings on behalf of the Scions of the Thalaz'ir, his most holiness, son of day and night. I am Gezhe, priestess of sun. You speak the tongue of our forefathers, the Arrakhi-who-fell. How is this possible?"

Gezhe glances to the assembled crowd, noting the Goliaths in particular and smiling subtly beneath her ornate headdress. The high priestess would have much to hear about. Once noted, she returns her gaze to the 'Worldmaster', Thicket, offering a coy smile.

(Reference for Sun Priestess Gezhe)

"Sounds like an impressive fellow - I'm sure he was a fierce warrior. It takes a lot of skill to fight someone who owns you and win... I'm eager to see if your skill compares to his in some spear throwing!" Getting caught up in the jovial attitude of the party around them, Kalm hits the butt of his weapon against the ground. His sort of scheme was more 'stab them and fight anyone who resists' than anything with true cunning. Where he seemed quite impressed by the tale of overthrowing an old master one way or another, Merine looked more troubled... If the master spoke and taught their language, did these Ko potentially slay a survivor (or many) from the humans' homeland? She was not of them until recently, but she could see how this might be an issue - especially if either side got some ambitious ideas on reclaiming some servants or continuing to take revenge on their old masters. Before she could say anything on it, a priestess steps up beside them introduces herself. A shocked look of recognition crosses both of their faces, who look at one another and hardly know what to say for a moment. And another moment. It looked like they were going to settle for shocked silence for now.

"There are free slaves who would treat us to dinner and sun priests that still draw breath and bear full garb? What in the stars..." Merine whispers in awe to Kalm, though it could catch the ear of any nearby if they were listening closely.

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-12, 08:50 PM (ISO 8601)

The Goliath that was pouring his God into the waiting bowls of the Ko, took the offered Kaff and nodded his flowered crowned head towards the little strangers. These people were so small that two standing on each of other's should would not equal his height. And yet they built this stone palace. It gave him much to think about. Mainly, he wanted to return home. He believed in the OORT Crusade, but he was no crusader, his disposition was more of the Ukoists and their quiet contemplation. He sipped the strange black wine and wondered what God died so that he may receive its blessing. He sipped it and almost choked. It must have been a God of bitterness! And yet he did not put down the bowl. Not due to any desire to appease his hosts, but of the religious faith that this bowl contained what was left of a Lord of Creation and it must be finished to its last drop out of respect for the liquid itself. The more he drank the wider his eyes got. The faster he passed the bowls and cups of wine. The louder he laughed at the antics of the Ko. Perhaps the God of bitterness was a trickster? He thought with a smile. He would wish to learn more about him and hope the Ko may give him some seeds to take back to the flower fields . . .

***

As the festivities progressed Ells Ogra retreated to the Truthseer that she journeyed with and the Goliath that attended her. She looked down at the strange woman, and then across the room at the other Truthseers. A powerful sisterhood indeed. They were like moths drawn to the flames of power it seemed. They flocked towards the great lords and had their ears. They spoke a common tongue. This gathering would be no gathering at all without them. Ociete Lareneg was right to desire to share in their secrets. But what did Lareneg have except a few herbs and potions to make a crowd grow wild in ecstasy and then a few herbs and potions to deal with the consequences of that ecstasy. Ogra looked around the growing party as Kaff and Wine began to mix. Strange Creatures, each all enjoying themselves despite themselves. With such enjoyment there was no need for tongues. Ogra blinked at that thought and mused . . .

She whispered to the Goliath standing next to the Truthseer, perhaps louder than she could have, perhaps purposely loud enough for the Truthseer to hear the words.

I know you stand here on behalf of the OORT brother warrior, but you are also a Volshebnik of some renown.
The Goliath slightly paled Sister warrior, you know true but why bring this up? I do not mean to shame the OORT.
Nonsense, the Volshebnikee do not bring shame to the OORT in my eyes. They are the happy brother of the serious man. And I have a request of you as a man of OORT that only a Volshebnik could do.
She whispered her request, and the Goliath, still slightly pale, nodded in acquiescence and left Towerhome.
The Truthseer turned to her and asked What did you request of him?
Ells Ogra replied without looking down For a Marvelous Show.

***

The party was continuing in full step at this point when the Goliath returned. He stomped through the threshold in a loud roar. He was dressed differently than he had come in. Gone was the Garland of Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy. Gone to were his travel hides. Instead, he wore only a leather kilt and he was painted orange with the dried leaves of the Zinnia flower. He was the embodiment of Endurance now. He stalked through the dignitaries and pointed at the the Ko called Flint. He issued his challenge, boasting in loud laughter that however strong a lizard could be that he was no match for a Goliath. Flint's reptilian feature grew cold with anger. He was not used to being disrespected thus. The Giant may be Tall but he was Cleverer! He stood up and accepted the challenge. The Goliath immediately kicked him with one leg and sent Flint into a bench splintering it. It seemed that only because Flint jumped at the last moment did he withstand the cowardly attack. He yelled back in a language the Goliath did not understand that this was a wrestling match!

Flint charged at the Giant, who suddenly rolled to the right and picked up the broken bench and swung at Flint! Flint could not believe, what devilry was this? He slid underneath the bench that was swung just a little too high. He grabbed onto the Giant's leg and tried to trip him. The Giant went down with a thud, but instead of staying down punched up with his hands and flipped throwing Flint off. Flint was grinning now, the Giant might fight dirty but this was Fun! The Goliath now lunged foward suddenly and grabbed the small Ko with both hands and raised him up. He was about to smash him down but Flint was able to pry the Goliath's fingers open and escape to grab the Goliath's head and wrap his tail around his neck. The Goliath grabbed the tail to prevent himself from being strangled and with his prodigious strength he tore the Ko off and swung him by the tail, letting go and having Flint fly into a wall. Flint landed on the wall with his limbs and easily jumped back down to the floor waiting for the Giant's next attack.

The Golaith now narrowed his eyes and with an expression of hate and anger, almost too exaggerated, ran at Flint with one arm fully extended. The extended arm caught Flint in the stomach and took away his breath momentarily. Flint though came to almost immediately and stopped the Goliath's advance and with an experienced wrestler's practice moved towards an arm bar. The Goliath's massive arm was somehow moved in this fashion and he yelled in pain. Flint, exhausted was holding the Goliath's arm in a painful hold behind his back asked the other to yield. The Goliath struck his orange stained chest and roared out in his language that he was possessed by the God of Endurance. With that he turned around and struck Flint quickly with his other hand's open palm. Flint was sent staggering to the floor by the blow and the Goliath raised his hands, jumped and twisted in the air to start to fall on the Ko with his elbow.

Flint could do nothing. But the Goliath warrior apparently miscalculated the coup de grâce. His elbow landed slightly past where Flint was lying on the ground. Flint wasted no opportunity to wrap his tail around the Giant's throat and grab the others fingers in a hold. He was strained, bleeding, bones definitely broken, but he was winning. He kept his hold until the Goliath gently tapped the floor in the universal wrestler's sign of surrender. The fight was over. He had won over a giant. It was his greatest victory!

Across the room the first to clap was Ells Ogra who clapped in steady beat that was joined by the other two Goliaths not currently sweating and laying on the floor defeated. One of the other Goliath was slightly off beat as he had been drinking Wine and Kaff nonstop. The Ko themselves joined the applause. Flint got up and looked at his foe and extended his hand to help raise him up. His Foe grunted and shoved his hand away and sulked out of Towerhome. While Flint was dejected he understood the emotions of the loser. A great wrestler like him hates to lose. Flint hates to lose too. It was perhaps much later when a Goliath similar to the Orange stained maniac once again dressed in traveling furs and a Garland of Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy asked to drink with Flint that Flint understood that the Goliath couldn't possibly accept mercy while still dressed for battle. He laughed and clapped the great wrestler on his back and drank wine to his health. The Goliath drank with a big smile on his face too, but it was slightly restrained. He looked back at Ells Ogra who nodded.

***

A little obvious don't you think the Truthseer asked?
Do you think so?
Your Brother Warrior attacked to lose and lost with too much ease. The fight could have been his a thousand times over. Anyone here could have seen past the ruse.
There was no ruse.
What do you mean?
Did you enjoy the spectacle? Did your blood boil and did you feel like cheering?
The Truthseer looked at Ells Ogra with some skepticism. Yes . . .
Then Have Faith.

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-12, 09:25 PM (ISO 8601)

Thicket blinks rapidly at the man translating for the tree. He cannot tell anything that the tree intends, but must rely on the words of his(?) companion. Thicket paused. Did trees have gender? A question for later.

"We do have streams, yes," he says, "Behind Towerhome, there is a slope and then a pleasant stream. We draw our water from it, for any number of purposes." He turns and faces Red-Leaf, even though he cannot exactly see where the tree's eyes are. He sees the faint outline of what might be a face? Or it could be his imagination. "You and yours are welcome, er, Counciltree," he says.

He glances back at the Towerhome. "It was the home of the Wizard-Master, which I inherited from my mother when she passed. We live..." He points downwards. "Underground. Many-much of us. More than can come to the feast today."

=======

Curious Linguisitics

Thicket grins widely at Kalm's enthusiasm. "Yes, yes! He was the greatest of the Ko. No riddle was too great, and no door shut tightly enough to keep him out. None could match him, and none could escape his traps!" He rises from his chair and stands on it. With a dramatic sweep of his arms, he proclaims, "And his blood still runs in my veins! His legacy lives in me." His arms lower and he chuckles. "Though perhaps, after today, I will have to change my title to 'Towermaster Thicket', seeing as the world is much larger than we knew."

When the newcomer bursts into the conversation, he does not sit back down, but does incline his head to the woman. "The Ko learned this language from the Wizard-Master, and have kept it ever since." He smirks. "He is nothing but bones now, but who throws away what is useful?" With a flourish, he produces a staff made of bone from beside his throne. It is large to him, but made of a human-sized femur.

A nagging thought niggles at the back of his mind. The Wizard-Master spoke these people's language. They claim it as their own. Where did the Wizard-Master...

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Ohhhh this is bad.

He falls quiet, staring at the priestess. The staff slowly lowers as he tries to unobtrusively move it out of sight.

======

The Ko cheer and crowd around Flint. His prowess as a warrior was never in doubt, but that was among the Ko. To triumph against one of these giants? THAT is true glory! Especially in the field of physical combat. He will have a very good time for weeks to come, retelling the story and basking in the attention that it will bring.

Meanwhile, Scree and Berry have fully drunk their bowls. And then had another. They are now giggling and laughing up a storm. They also feel very warm for some reason and have shed their ceremonial outfits. Such a strange sensation. After the Goliath and Flint are done in the ring, they two of them tumble into it. Their laughter makes it hard for the two of them to really wrestle, and a strange lightness in their limbs makes it difficult for them to really grasp each other, but soon they have the whole crowd of Ko laughing good-naturedly at their antics.

**Aventine** · 2020-07-12, 10:09 PM (ISO 8601)

Three humans trudge up to the Towerhome. Tanned by a life of sun on the sea, they are dressed in loose-fitting leather tunics and pants and each carry a spear as well as a shield slung over their backs. On the left is a burly and muscular man, without the tunic but with an ostentatious bear fur cloak, complete with the bear's head pulled down over his own. Anyone who manages to get a solid look at the mostly obscured face would notice it is completely covered in swirling and interlacing tattoos. On the right is the only woman of the three and clearly the youngest, still a teenager. Her hair is long, blonde and braided, and she has a small patch of the same style of tattoo beneath one eye. As they approach the tower she slips closer to the middle of the three, and eyes everyone suspiciously.

When they arrive, it is the third who catches the attention of a translating truthseer. Taller but less muscular than his bear fur wearing companion, his dark brown hair is shaved into a braided mohawk and all of the exposed skin on his face and head is covered in tattoos. "May your winds be favorable. I am Yúkró, son of Ákskhè, son of Sọ̀lọ̀p of the Sọ́ge Clan. My companions are my sister Rẹ̌tšrìj, who though still young already takes after her uncle: a famous warrior that all Sọkǎu aspire to emulate; and Ṭhùtšrũ, son of Phyõkǎu of the Dọ̀pyǐj Clan, himself a peerless warrior I am honored to say is a kinsman of mine. He killed that bear himself, after being challenged to a test of bravery by a foolish rival from the Gãk. We have come to see the legendary splendor of those who would challenge the whole world to come to them."

**Silent_Interim** · 2020-07-13, 08:05 AM (ISO 8601)

The Thunspeaker and their subordinates watch proceedings with fascination. What strange people, doing such strange things. From the boisterous antics of the Uzii to the quiet grace of the Hraban, all with customs and manners strange to the Scrim. They stand aside and watch, with only the occasional tilt of a head to remind others that they are not statues.

Eventually, Ulun turns to the others and speaks. "It is increasingly clear to me that as a representative of Thun I am unprepared to walk among these people. I will stand aside for now, and continue to learn from afar. It is the will of Thun that you mingle with these others. I am here as Thun, and Thun is here as Stone. But you speak for Scrim, for yourselves, and you may be as River. So speak like chisels, and carve their thoughts to the aid of Thun."

The two Scrimspeakers share a glance. "Yes, Thunspeaker," they chant in unison.

Ulun nods. "Be on with it, then." With that, they turn back to watch the throne while their subordinates trudge off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lurn approaches the Hraban delegation, translator in tow, and bows deeply to them. "My greetings to you, First Among Equals, and apologies for the impertinence of my intrusion. I wished to make an inquiry regarding your gift to the host, if such would be acceptable."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Tior is drawn to the sounds of fighting from behind the building. They watch with horror and fascination- are they... fighting for sport? They move closer, as though in a trance. Soon enough they are standing right at the threshold of the fighting area, staring intently at those inside. "Why would anyone ever think of such a thing..."

**Gengy** · 2020-07-13, 12:08 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Hraban? Here? Now?

Show

Originally Posted by Electriccat

Efficient but brightly colored clothing an ornamentation marks the Hraban as they enter, with Heinrich Wurzelstarke aus Tirol walking in the lead, flanked by two quiet types. The Hraban enter, their black feathers dark against their clothing, the nearly gold colored tips of the feathers on Heinrich mark his clan and affiliation. The other two with their blood red tipped feathers staying quietly behind.

As they approach Worldmaster Thicket one of the Uzii pushed aside from their…boisterous entrance bumped into the Hraban on the right. What happened next is tough to completely make out as there is a blur of motion, speed versus strength, leaving both separate, yet standing with what can only be described as smiles on both faces. The Hraban bows and then resumes his position.

Speaking through the translator, "I great you Worldmaster, I am the current First Among Equals, Heinrich, I bring a gift of story, something from the before the times of red sky the tells of our shared world." He hands over a loosely wound bit of weaved…plant matter with a large number of seemingly strange scribbles all over it.

"We hope to make it so that all of our…expansion into the greater world is fruitful and orderly. Chaos benefits no one. We hope that the exchange of thoughts and ideas can flow amongst us all present."

A battered, bruised, but ultimately happy Uzii walks up to Shaman More-talk and whispers something to the white-fur-wearing Uzii. Those watching would see the placid features of the Shaman suddenly raise in curiosity before they began to look around. Spotting the Hraban delegation, More-talk thumps the Uzii talking to him on his back; an appreciation of a job well done. Seeing that their 'leader' Lost-way is dealing with the local Den Mother, the Shaman meanders over to the Hraban after they are done speaking with what appears to have been the Den Mother's chosen Clan Chief.

Catching the eye of the one called Heinrich, Shaman More-talk's grunts and clicks seem to need no translation for the leaner, taller bird-men. How the two languages are the same between two visually different species is a story the Shaman would be happy to tell the curious, but for those that know the language, the accents are very different. More-talk's words are comparatively slower and less nuanced, but as a Shaman, seem to have some hidden meaning, "I see you, cousin of souls. Shaman More-talk greets you, brother of form. Does the Goddess still die in your lands as she does in ours?"

Spoiler: Den Mother Zinnia

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Originally Posted by Miltonian

The disturbance called by the Uzii does take a bit of the wind out of Thicket's sails, so to speak. He eyes them with equal parts disapproval and trepidation. A few of the Ko do try to stop and corral them back into the designated greeting-area, but are very ineffective. Seeing them run roughshod over his home does stir something within Thicket, though. A small, hot fire of anger ignites in his chest. He is about to rise and deal with them personally when their own leader calls them to account. But then, they address Zinnia as if she was in charge, when he is clearly the one sitting on the Exalted Throne and descended from the magnificent Tangle! His lips curl downwards, but then a thought occurs to him. Perhaps...they did not think themselves worthy of addressing him? Yes, that had to be it. His magnificence was undeniable, and his clothing fine. These giants must be intimidated by his appearance! A smirk replaces the snarl and, with a magnanimous gesture, he indicates for Zinnia to answer them.

The fair-scaled Ko takes a few steps forward and clears her throat. "Honored guests," she says, scrambling to find the right words, "In the name of Worldmaster Thicket, emperor of all the land he surveys, honored descendant of Tangle the Liberator, and other titles too many and too lengthy to recite in full." She glances back and winks at him. "We would not wish you to miss the festivities of the day, but..." Her mind races, trying to gauge what the foreigners would accept. "...but surely giants of such strength and energy would not mind demonstrating it during the festivities for the delight and appreciation of all." Good. Excellent. They seemed the sort to want to show off, and it would give the Ko a good estimate of their abilities, just in case.

She glances back at Thicket, who nods to her encouragingly. Then, she steps down from the raised dais and approaches the Uzii. "Come, let me show you around..."

A Den Mother was going to show him around? Lost-way could not believe his luck! The honor! He of course accepted, and both he and the translator followed, "As you wish, Den Mother. We will be very happy to show off our feats of strength! Is there something that needs hunting nearby? Something that needs taming? Maybe tossing in the air from an Uzii barrage? My Den brothers are quite skilled! I tell you, we can easily take down a Bloat Toad with only maybe one of us getting hurt!"

Spoiler: Flint and the Goliath

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Originally Posted by mystic1110

The Goliath that was pouring his God into the waiting bowls of the Ko, took the offered Kaff and nodded his flowered crowned head towards the little strangers. These people were so small that two standing on each of other's should would not equal his height. And yet they built this stone palace. It gave him much to think about. Mainly, he wanted to return home. He believed in the OORT Crusade, but he was no crusader, his disposition was more of the Ukoists and their quiet contemplation. He sipped the strange black wine and wondered what God died so that he may receive its blessing. He sipped it and almost choked. It must have been a God of bitterness! And yet he did not put down the bowl. Not due to any desire to appease his hosts, but of the religious faith that this bowl contained what was left of a Lord of Creation and it must be finished to its last drop out of respect for the liquid itself. The more he drank the wider his eyes got. The faster he passed the bowls and cups of wine. The louder he laughed at the antics of the Ko. Perhaps the God of bitterness was a trickster? He thought with a smile. He would wish to learn more about him and hope the Ko may give him some seeds to take back to the flower fields . . .

***

As the festivities progressed Ells Ogra retreated to the Truthseer that she journeyed with and the Goliath that attended her. She looked down at the strange woman, and then across the room at the other Truthseers. A powerful sisterhood indeed. They were like moths drawn to the flames of power it seemed. They flocked towards the great lords and had their ears. They spoke a common tongue. This gathering would be no gathering at all without them. Ociete Lareneg was right to desire to share in their secrets. But what did Lareneg have except a few herbs and potions to make a crowd grow wild in ecstasy and then a few herbs and potions to deal with the consequences of that ecstasy. Ogra looked around the growing party as Kaff and Wine began to mix. Strange Creatures, each all enjoying themselves despite themselves. With such enjoyment there was no need for tongues. Ogra blinked at that thought and mused . . .

She whispered to the Goliath standing next to the Truthseer, perhaps louder than she could have, perhaps purposely loud enough for the Truthseer to hear the words.

I know you stand here on behalf of the OORT brother warrior, but you are also a Volshebnik of some renown.
The Goliath slightly paled Sister warrior, you know true but why bring this up? I do not mean to shame the OORT.
Nonsense, the Volshebnikee do not bring shame to the OORT in my eyes. They are the happy brother of the serious man. And I have a request of you as a man of OORT that only a Volshebnik could do.
She whispered her request, and the Goliath, still slightly pale, nodded in acquiescence and left Towerhome.
The Truthseer turned to her and asked What did you request of him?
Ells Ogra replied without looking down For a Marvelous Show.

***

The party was continuing in full step at this point when the Goliath returned. He stomped through the threshold in a loud roar. He was dressed differently than he had come in. Gone was the Garland of Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy. Gone to were his travel hides. Instead, he wore only a leather kilt and he was painted orange with the dried leaves of the Zinnia flower. He was the embodiment of Endurance now. He stalked through the dignitaries and pointed at the the Ko called Flint. He issued his challenge, boasting in loud laughter that however strong a lizard could be that he was no match for a Goliath. Flint's reptilian feature grew cold with anger. He was not used to being disrespected thus. The Giant may be Tall but he was Cleverer! He stood up and accepted the challenge. The Goliath immediately kicked him with one leg and sent Flint into a bench splintering it. It seemed that only because Flint jumped at the last moment did he withstand the cowardly attack. He yelled back in a language the Goliath did not understand that this was a wrestling match!

Flint charged at the Giant, who suddenly rolled to the right and picked up the broken bench and swung at Flint! Flint could not believe, what devilry was this? He slid underneath the bench that was swung just a little too high. He grabbed onto the Giant's leg and tried to trip him. The Giant went down with a thud, but instead of staying down punched up with his hands and flipped throwing Flint off. Flint was grinning now, the Giant might fight dirty but this was Fun! The Goliath now lunged foward suddenly and grabbed the small Ko with both hands and raised him up. He was about to smash him down but Flint was able to pry the Goliath's fingers open and escape to grab the Goliath's head and wrap his tail around his neck. The Goliath grabbed the tail to prevent himself from being strangled and with his prodigious strength he tore the Ko off and swung him by the tail, letting go and having Flint fly into a wall. Flint landed on the wall with his limbs and easily jumped back down to the floor waiting for the Giant's next attack.

The Golaith now narrowed his eyes and with an expression of hate and anger, almost too exaggerated, ran at Flint with one arm fully extended. The extended arm caught Flint in the stomach and took away his breath momentarily. Flint though came to almost immediately and stopped the Goliath's advance and with an experienced wrestler's practice moved towards an arm bar. The Goliath's massive arm was somehow moved in this fashion and he yelled in pain. Flint, exhausted was holding the Goliath's arm in a painful hold behind his back asked the other to yield. The Goliath struck his orange stained chest and roared out in his language that he was possessed by the God of Endurance. With that he turned around and struck Flint quickly with his other hand's open palm. Flint was sent staggering to the floor by the blow and the Goliath raised his hands, jumped and twisted in the air to start to fall on the Ko with his elbow.

Flint could do nothing. But the Goliath warrior apparently miscalculated the coup de grâce. His elbow landed slightly past where Flint was lying on the ground. Flint wasted no opportunity to wrap his tail around the Giant's throat and grab the others fingers in a hold. He was strained, bleeding, bones definitely broken, but he was winning. He kept his hold until the Goliath gently tapped the floor in the universal wrestler's sign of surrender. The fight was over. He had won over a giant. It was his greatest victory!

Across the room the first to clap was Ells Ogra who clapped in steady beat that was joined by the other two Goliaths not currently sweating and laying on the floor defeated. One of the other Goliath was slightly off beat as he had been drinking Wine and Kaff nonstop. The Ko themselves joined the applause. Flint got up and looked at his foe and extended his hand to help raise him up. His Foe grunted and shoved his hand away and sulked out of Towerhome. While Flint was dejected he understood the emotions of the loser. A great wrestler like him hates to lose. Flint hates to lose too. It was perhaps much later when a Goliath similar to the Orange stained maniac once again dressed in traveling furs and a Garland of Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy asked to drink with Flint that Flint understood that the Goliath couldn't possibly accept mercy while still dressed for battle. He laughed and clapped the great wrestler on his back and drank wine to his health. The Goliath drank with a big smile on his face too, but it was slightly restrained. He looked back at Ells Ogra who nodded.

***

A little obvious don't you think the Truthseer asked?
Do you think so?
Your Brother Warrior attacked to lose and lost with too much ease. The fight could have been his a thousand times over. Anyone here could have seen past the ruse.
There was no ruse.
What do you mean?
Did you enjoy the spectacle? Did your blood boil and did you feel like cheering?
The Truthseer looked at Ells Ogra with some skepticism. Yes . . .
Then Have Faith.

Originally Posted by Miltonian

The Ko cheer and crowd around Flint. His prowess as a warrior was never in doubt, but that was among the Ko. To triumph against one of these giants? THAT is true glory! Especially in the field of physical combat. He will have a very good time for weeks to come, retelling the story and basking in the attention that it will bring.

Meanwhile, Scree and Berry have fully drunk their bowls. And then had another. They are now giggling and laughing up a storm. They also feel very warm for some reason and have shed their ceremonial outfits. Such a strange sensation. After the Goliath and Flint are done in the ring, they two of them tumble into it. Their laughter makes it hard for the two of them to really wrestle, and a strange lightness in their limbs makes it difficult for them to really grasp each other, but soon they have the whole crowd of Ko laughing good-naturedly at their antics.

The Uzii were very interested in the drinks on display at Towerhome. With the Shaman and Lost-way dealing with the talky people, the Den brothers split up once again and proceeded to explore and investigate. Three of them found the Goliath wines, and were trying the samples of everything, looking like they very much enjoyed the experience. One of them - the one with the broken spear - found the Kaff, and was chugging an ill-advised amount before suddenly finding everything interesting and rushing off to look at it all and finally seemed to settle, entranced, at the music near the firepit. Most of the remaining Den brothers, however, found the space for ritual contests of strength. They watched carefully as the Ko fought off the Goliath, and while one or two were suitably impressed by Flint, there was a sudden grunt from among the group, and their whole attitude shifted.

The Goliath had lost the fight. On purpose. Several Uzii warriors were starting to get foul looks on their faces, working hard to think about what this meant for any warrior to do.

"Bad form."
"No honor."
"Tall thing make self look weak!"
"Little thing seem strong, but not!"

They were beginning to work themselves up into a froth, and the biggest among them was about to go end the shamed Goliath with a Dishonorable Death, when one of the others grabbed his spear and hit the butt of it on the ground, saying, "Runt training."

"Runt training?"
"Small thing need feel strong to get strong! Runt training!"
"RUNT TRAINING!" the group cheered.
"Tall thing smart."
"Still should have won."

The grunts of confirmation seemed to settle the matter. The Goliath made himself look weak, yes, but that was to help the small Ko feel good and get stronger later. Honor to one Ancestor at the cost of another was not great, but the small Ko things were the local Clan.

"We do runt training too?"
"No, I want to do spear throw!"
"I want to wrestle!"
"I want to throw small thing!"
"Throw small thing?"
"Throw small thing!"

"Who first?"
"Me! I throw far!"
"No me! I throw more far!"

Two small Ko were currently wrestling, so the two Uzii Den brothers grunted at each other and walked up to watch them. "Each take one? Throw same time? More far wins?"

The bigger Uzii looked over at a Truthseer and shouted, "You tell them we show off how strong Uzii are now by throwing small things."

"What if runts get hurt?"
"So? Runts need get tough!"
"Not our Den. Den Mother might not want tough runts."
"No throw?"
"No, of course throw! Just... also catch?"
"Show off speed!"
"Yes! I faster at catching!"
"No, I faster at catching!"

Two more Uzii lined up near the throwers, and leaned down, ready to sprint. Picking up the still wrestling (and thankfully drunk) Ko, the two Throwers got themselves ready. Scree's thrower was named Go-here Far-trek. Berry's thrower was Not-there Far-trek.

Roam-hoof Far-trek was bent down, ready to charge at the same time as Go-here threw. Found-stuff Far-trek was the same, on the other side of Not-there. Their largest Den brother, Walk-well Far-trek chose to officiate. And by that, he chose to say, "Readdddy! Set! THROW!"

Not-there stumbled a bit at the signal, not expecting it. Berry did gracefully leave the Uzii's grasp, and traveled an impressive fifteen feet or so, like chucking a small stone, but it was more of a high toss rather than one for distance. It made it rather easy for Found-stuff to get into place and catch Berry before the Ko could hit the ground.

Meanwhile, Go-here had a beautiful toss; almost perfect in it's arch and distance, like Scree was a spear aimed at something that needed slaying. The Ko traveled far through the air, but what was more impressive than the distance was the speed with which Roam-hoof took off, easily running almost along side the thrown Ko before diving to the ground some forty feet from where they started, turning mid air and grabbing the little Ko before Scree hit the dirt. There was a giant cheer from all the Uzii at both the distance and the catch. Even Not-there was cheering.

"Go again?"
"Ask others!"
"Ko Throw seem fun!"
"Ko Catch seem more fun!"
"Ask tall things to play?"
"Tall things play!"
"TALL THINGS PLAY!"

Their raucous grunting was hard to decipher for those that didn't know the language, but a Truthseer did let the Goliaths know that they were being invited to play against the Uzii to see who could throw or catch the Ko the best.

((OOC: Ko Throw/Catch done with permission from Milt!))

Spoiler: OOC to Mystic and those who want to play

Show

Thrower rolls 2d6.
Catcher rolls 2d6+Military.

Highest roll between all Throwers win. Ties result in a re-throw between the tying results.

Each Thrower gets an assigned Catcher.

If the assigned Catch Roll for the Thrower does not exceed the Throw roll, (1) the Ko doesn't get caught [ouch!] and (2) the Throw doesn't count.

Example:
Throw: [roll = 12]
Catch: [roll = 14]

Good catch!

Throw: roll = 9
Catch: roll = 8

Missed catch! Throw roll doesn't count!

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-13, 01:22 PM (ISO 8601)

One of the Goliath's had come upon the second floor and found the Ko engaged in games of chance. They were throwing bones and furiously exchanging Kaff beans in losses. The female Goliath did not have any Kaff beans to bet but she took out of on the flowers that she wore on her head. The Ko looked at the flower and the giant and then each other and agreed that it would be best to take her flower rather than not take her flower. They threw the bones and announced that she won! They gave her two Kaff beans. She smiled in ignorance at the game but happy that she seemed to be doing it right, rolled again. They frowned and said she lost so they took a Kaff bean. Well she was still ahead, so she rolled again. She won! four more beans! She was getting the hang of it. She kept rolling. . . .

A little time later, slightly drunker but extremely dejected, the sounds of Ko laughter coming from behind her she returned to the first floor with absolutely no flowers on her head. The Ko had taken everything . . .

She walked over to Ells Ogra who asked her what happened to her flower crown? She informed her what happened and Orga's eye were bright with anger as she was about to slap the other woman. How dare she debase her Gods with such games? And yet . . . her eyes stayed bright for another reason and she stayed her hand. She laid it instead on the other Goliath and said that she was not to worry.

***

The stranger truthseer indicated that the hog people who were now throwing the small lizards were inviting them to join there game. Ells Ogra was surprised in this development. She expected to put on a show but this was something else. This was communal. This was powerful.

The Truthseer that came with her said Now what? This isn't diplomacy. Your Witch-Mother would be disappointed.
Would she now? You know the mind of the Witch-Mother?
The Truthseer was quiet.
What is diplomacy? I see excitement, happiness. I don't see blades drawn. I see loose tongues and strange creatures becoming brothers.

Ells Ogra spoke to two of the Goliaths to join the game. The drunk Goliath who was distributing the wine happily stumbled into the arena where the Uzii were throwing the two Ko. The other Goliath was the Volshebnik who had taken off his orange paint and was seeking to take out his frustration for taking the heel role out on the Ko. He grabbed Scree who yelped and flug him ferociously overhead. The drunk Goliath at the other end of the stage jumped equal to his height and caught Scree. He yelled in amusement and at the success at the catch. Almost without thinking he threw the Ko on the ground in celebration. The Volshebnik on the other end also raised his hands in victory! It was a good game, but Ogra thought it could be better . . .

She started walking towards the stage and her Truthseer followed. She looked at the two Goliath and Go-here and Not-there as well. She started talking, now expecting that the Truthseers would translate. She frowned slightly at that assumption. They were like the Wine and the Games, they were the lubricant that allowed all this to function.

Throwing and Catching is all well and good, but we are all Wrestlers here, no? A throw and a catch is all well and good but lets make it harder? Why not attack the thrower as he is making the throw? And why not attack the catcher as he is making the Catch? We can take turns over who makes the most successful catches. I'll show you what I mean.

Ogra motioned for the female Goliath who lost her flower crown to the Kobold above to join them. And so the four Goliath squared off in the arena. The Drunk Goliath grabbed Berry, who was too wasted to run away. He geared up to throw and Ogra lunged at him to prevent the throw. He threw Berry even with Ogra grabbing him and bringing him down to the ground in a thud. It was a poor throw given the tackle. The Volshebnik ran towards where Berry would land in his erratic tumble in the sky. The female Goliath tried to tackle him as well, but with an expert twist he threw her off her balance and she fell onto the floor. He dived and caught Berry!

The Goliath cheered; the Ko, ignoring the fact that they were being used as projectiles, cheered as well; the Uzii, perhaps cheered as well.

And that's how you play Ogra said as she got up and dusted herself off, picking up her flower crown that was dislodged. She extended her hand to pick up her tackled target who roared in red faced laughter and returned to distribute the wine.

Spoiler: How to Play Ko-ball-d

Show

Thrower: 2d6
O-Line: 1d6 - If higher than Thrower, Throw is prevented. If tied then Catch roll gets -1.

Receiver:
Catch Roll - 2d6+M -> for successful catch needs to be > than both or = to either the thrower roll and the Cornerback roll.
Cornerback - 1d6+I

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-13, 02:45 PM (ISO 8601)

Thicket and the Many Diacritics

Thicket, once again settled in his chair, inclines his head in greeting to the newcomers. "Greetings, Yúkró, son of Ákskhè." He hopes on his own eggshell that he pronounced that correctly. "We welcome you. Come! We have Kaff, a good drink for the end of a long trip. Will give you energy, yes?"

He gestures to the tower rising behind him. "Behold the Towerhome! Conquered by the Ko from the Wizard-Master. I am afraid our many halls and secret warrens are hidden below, but I can call my subjects out with but a shout, if you wish to see."

His eyes fall on Rẹ̌tšrìj, the nearest to his height. These strangers do look very different than the Ko, but do seem to follow some of the same general outlines. He chitters a little, debating whether to ask the question or not. "You are his sister, yes?" he asks her. Then, to them all. "Forgive me, but I must ask as the trait seems common to many guests. What are the differences between male and female among your kind?"

Zinnia's Lost her Way

Zinnia is a little startled to have the Uzii following so close behind, but she forced the rapid beating of her heart to slow. She was safe. He was not hostile. "We have many rocks you can throw," Zinnia says. A grin slowly crosses her face. "I am sure your strength could lift much larger ones than mine, but perhaps you could not throw them as accurately, hmm? We Ko can make a neat stack of them from twenty paces away."

She leads him into the main hall and gestures around. "There, we have the firepit, which will be lit later for storytelling. For now, it is time for music, and so the music plays." She turns to the corner. "There, we have bowls of Kaff, fresh-boiled. Please, do try some!"

Two other female Ko descend from above, snickering and wearing flowers. They spot Zinnia and wave at her from across the room. She waves back. "Skitter and Scurry," she says to Lost Way, "Two of our best trap-crafters and hunters."

Ko-Ball-d

Scree and Berry are in the midst of tumbling over each other on the grass when the Uzii decide to begin the challenge. Focused only on each other, they do not notice their impending doom. They almost don't stop wrestling when they are picked up, at first mistaking the Uzii's intentions. "Aw come on," Scree calls, "We aren't hurting (hic) hurting each other!"

"We do this all the time!" Berry adds. He grins widely. "But see, normally we start--WHOA!"

And then, they both go flying head over tail through the air, screaming in surprise. Their limbs flail about wildly, as if trying to fly and avoid their imminent meeting with the ground. And then, both are caught, landing safely in the Uziis' arms. Scree fights and kicks for a few seconds, unsure of what is going on. The cheering quickly sets him at ease, though, and he cautiously relaxes. Berry, on the other hand, clings to Found-stuff, tail wrapping around the Uzii's bicep. The scales under his chin flush with embarrassment and mumbles an apology before letting go.

And then, they find themselves handed off to the Goliaths. Scree, after he recovers from the surprise, gets the idea and tucks his body up into a more easily-thrown shape, knees pressed close to his chest and arms wrapped around his thighs. He has just enough time to wink at Volshebnik before he goes flying through the air once more and is easily caught on the other end. He laughs loudly, but keeps enough presence of mind to realizes that he is about to thrown to the ground. His limbs unfold very quickly, and he barely manages to save his face from meeting the dirt. Crouching on all fours, he glowers back at Volshebnik. "Be glad I put my garments somewhere safe," he says, "If they got dirty..."

Berry has had just enough time to catch his breath and sit down when they swing him back up and put him through yet another harrowing experience. He starts to flail around again, but Scree shouts at him to, "Do the Seashell!" Berry's chin lights up bright red, and the nearby Ko snicker, but he also tucks his knees against his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and does not open them until he is safely on the ground again. He gives thanks to his ancestors for the Ko's resilient hide!

**SOSDarkPhoenix** · 2020-07-13, 03:56 PM (ISO 8601)

Curious Linguistics

Gezhe gazed upon Thicket, listening intently to his tale of heroism in overthrowing the 'dark wizard', and parading his femur around like some form of grisly trophy. "Your tale is.. noble, if one is to be believed. The Thalaz'ir thanks you for disposing of one of the enemies of his rule, a member of the Bash'ir." Though her tone is sweet, she wears a scowl on her lips. Her eyes flick over to the chief of Clan Alqar for a moment, and his serpentine companion, before returning to look at the Worldmaster. "Would you give the bone to us, as a sign of peace? We would see it brought to the sun temple for.. consecration."

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-13, 05:02 PM (ISO 8601)

Ells Ogra walked over to the female Goliath who was panting a little bit after her brief exertion in the game and asked her to lead her to the games wherein she shamefully gambled her own Gods of Peace. The Goliath, her grey face becoming the color of rose quartz, inclined her head and led Orga upstairs where the Ko were throwing dice and other games of chance. The Truthseer followed Ogra, and it was unclear if she was becoming intrigued with Ogra's activities, disconcerted with the way this conclave was deteriorating, or a mix of the two. What was to be a noble gathering was certainly turning out very differently . . .

The Goliaths and the Truthseer climbed the stairs and found themselves stooping their necks given that the ceiling was made for Ko not giants, the other Goliath led Ogra to where two Ko wearing pieces of the broken crown of Lavender, Meadowsweet and White Poppy were throwing what appeared to be chicken bones. Ogra's stomach instinctively turned seeing the Gods worn in such a slipshod manner, to see them being treated as mere matter, when she breathed and calmed herself and remembered that they were not gods but merely flowers born in a dead aborted world. The useful bit of such conflicting beliefs that the Targiz have is that while they could be the most restricting of chains they could also be the most freeing of keys. Ogra was just now discovering how true that was, and for one who spent her life acquiring more and more such chains to find out that when you stand tall and hold the weight of all those links, they all suddenly fall away. Faith makes everything possible and everything is possible through Faith.

She sat down facing Skitter and Scurry and began to play. She smiled as she saw them palm some bone and throw completely different ones. That is of course right. Faith comes to those who control their Fate, Faith in Chance was Heresy after all. She gambled little - she had acquired some Kaff Beans from the drunk Goliath downstairs - but began making conversation with the two crafty Ko. As she rolled dem bones she told them of the Game that was being developed downstairs. She looked them in the eyes as she collected her winnings, having quickly and gently tsked as they were about to make a switch, making them aware that she caught them cheating. And yet she didn't leave the table. She kept playing under the watchful eye of the Truthseer who was looking quite cross. She kept telling them about the game and how, why could one bet on the winning side? That would also be a fun gamble. And of course, player could be bribed? Some could trip? The game could also be rigged. She kept playing, not worried about whether Skitter and Scurry caught on. What is more, why even risk their own wealth? They could simply take a cut of the bets, a vigorish a vig from the bets and make a winning regardless of who wins the game. And of course, she would get a cut of the cut, a vig of the vig. A small amount really of all the games that would take place. What did they say?

**Zayuz** · 2020-07-13, 07:16 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: A Shared History

Show

Originally Posted by Miltonian

Curious Linguisitics

Thicket grins widely at Kalm's enthusiasm. "Yes, yes! He was the greatest of the Ko. No riddle was too great, and no door shut tightly enough to keep him out. None could match him, and none could escape his traps!" He rises from his chair and stands on it. With a dramatic sweep of his arms, he proclaims, "And his blood still runs in my veins! His legacy lives in me." His arms lower and he chuckles. "Though perhaps, after today, I will have to change my title to 'Towermaster Thicket', seeing as the world is much larger than we knew."

When the newcomer bursts into the conversation, he does not sit back down, but does incline his head to the woman. "The Ko learned this language from the Wizard-Master, and have kept it ever since." He smirks. "He is nothing but bones now, but who throws away what is useful?" With a flourish, he produces a staff made of bone from beside his throne. It is large to him, but made of a human-sized femur.

A nagging thought niggles at the back of his mind. The Wizard-Master spoke these people's language. They claim it as their own. Where did the Wizard-Master...

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Ohhhh this is bad.

He falls quiet, staring at the priestess. The staff slowly lowers as he tries to unobtrusively move it out of sight.

Originally Posted by SOSDarkPhoenix

Curious Linguistics

Gezhe gazed upon Thicket, listening intently to his tale of heroism in overthrowing the 'dark wizard', and parading his femur around like some form of grisly trophy. "Your tale is.. noble, if one is to be believed. The Thalaz'ir thanks you for disposing of one of the enemies of his rule, a member of the Bash'ir." Though her tone is sweet, she wears a scowl on her lips. Her eyes flick over to the chief of Clan Alqar for a moment, and his serpentine companion, before returning to look at the Worldmaster. "Would you give the bone to us, as a sign of peace? We would see it brought to the sun temple for.. consecration."

Kalm stifles a laugh at Merine's hushed concerns and wonder. Whatever the occasion was, this was still a party, and there was plenty of time to settle it later. At the height of the Ko's triumphant speech, he cheers "To the son of the Doorbreaker, the Trapmaker, and Breaker of Bonds, Towermaster Thicket! The finest host of parties since the fall of Arrakh-Rah!" Taking a cup of drink, he downs it in commemoration of this past hero. The excitement lasts a good moment, until his cheerful smile suddenly dims as a human femur is waved around in front of him. Giving the Ko a stunned look as realization dawns on him as well, he's glad to hear the priestess of sun take the lead before he has to say anything about it. She wished to claim it, apparently, and would take it to a living Thala'zir? Now this was news... Maybe the homeland had held after all. She didn't seem worried about the bone, which calmed the chief somewhat. "We'll not be making any new staves to replace it today, though - lest they be made of fine wood. Allow my men back home to make another for you in turn, with sparkling jewels laid within that will be twice as magnificent as the old one. A thank you, for uniting us with our lost kin and hosting such a nice gathering of faces." He gives the sun priestess a knowing bow of his head, hoping to salvage the mood as best he can. There were priorities here - and avenging a stranger that enslaved these poor party hosts was not among them. Merine breaths an audible sigh of relief beside him, the snakes in her hair that rose to an alarming attention settling down once again.

Some time later, the leader of the wine-bearing goliaths was approached by a human man holding a cup of her Delphinium wine, breath smelling of alcohol and seeming somewhat slower to react from the excessive tasting of all these wonderful new beverages. He was tailed by a pleased-looking woman with the hair of snakes, drinking Gorse wine with a much more sober look about her. Leaning on a nearby table, he spoke to her in what amounted to a bunch of sloshed gibberish that conveyed a friendly tone before gesturing to a clay component they had brought and then jingling the necklace of shiny stones that he wore, smiling none the wiser. He lacked anyone to translate his words, though thankfully her truthseer was none too far to aid in the exchange. (More detailed character summaries can be found in my first event post!) It comes roughly to this: "Your drinks are fantastic! Thanks for bringing them.. I doubt my family at home would believe me if I told them of its wonderful taste, so if you're ever in the mood to travel again we have some fine gems and stuff that we'd be happy to give you for enough to go around. We're over by the mountains, in a valley between two rivers that deliver the fortune of the gods to us - and I say that we could use more entertaining guests like yourself!" Merine watches her chief speaking to the woman who clearly couldn't understand her and chuckled to herself, standing a few paces behind him.

**Miltonian** · 2020-07-13, 09:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Linguistic Oddities

Thicket slowly puts the carved, bone scepter on the arm of his chair. He clears his throat and looks around, making sure that his guards are nearby. He hopes the wizard-giants (for that's what he thinks they must be) will not attack. The cheers of the male are very gratifying, but cheers could turn to jeers in moments. And Tangle only had to deal with one wizard-giant, not all of them at once!

The offer to replace it, however, does get his attention. However, it also raises suspicion within in. His mother had said that the staff was magical. After all, it came from a wizard. And, if they were willing to pay so much for it, then it must be valuable. Perhaps they thought he was stupid? Yes, that was it. They thought he didn't know how valuable it was, so they wanted to dazzle him with half its true worth and get it for a bargain! Besides, he could never turn it over! it was not just the value in gold and gems. It was a symbol, a symbol of the Ko's greatest triumph!

Still, he had to be delicate. "Perhaps," he mused, "But we would have to see the replacement first. This is, you understand, very important to my people."

Place Your Bets Everyone

Skitter and Scurry do freeze for a moment when their con is caught, but they continue to play with good grace. With fair odds, their luck is much worse, but they pay it no mind. They are too focused on Ells Ogra's words. They let her play out her presentation, listening with rapt attention. When she seems to be winding down, Skitter languidly picks the bones up again and prepares to roll them slowly. She languidly tosses them down, not even looking at the result. Meanwhile, Scurry leans forward, putting her elbows on the table and leaning on the palms of her hands.

"One question," she says in a voice sweet as honey, "Now that you've told us the whole plan, why would we need to pay you at all?" She smiles sweetly, innocently.

**Aventine** · 2020-07-13, 10:59 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Miltonian

Thicket and the Many Diacritics

Thicket, once again settled in his chair, inclines his head in greeting to the newcomers. "Greetings, Yúkró, son of Ákskhè." He hopes on his own eggshell that he pronounced that correctly. "We welcome you. Come! We have Kaff, a good drink for the end of a long trip. Will give you energy, yes?"

He gestures to the tower rising behind him. "Behold the Towerhome! Conquered by the Ko from the Wizard-Master. I am afraid our many halls and secret warrens are hidden below, but I can call my subjects out with but a shout, if you wish to see."

His eyes fall on Rẹ̌tšrìj, the nearest to his height. These strangers do look very different than the Ko, but do seem to follow some of the same general outlines. He chitters a little, debating whether to ask the question or not. "You are his sister, yes?" he asks her. Then, to them all. "Forgive me, but I must ask as the trait seems common to many guests. What are the differences between male and female among your kind?"

"Men are generally larger. And more muscular, so stronger. The difference is not so much as in some animals. Our men are warriors; as you can see, some women are too, though that is rarer. Are there no such differences among your people?"

Yúkró seems hesitant, as if he were expecting something different, while Rẹ̌tšrìj's suspicion has given way to curiosity and she is intently watching the various strange goings-on. Ṭhùtšrũ remains silent and sullen.

"You say you conquered this land? You must have won great treasure. No doubt these secret warrens and filled with riches, eh?"

Later

Pig-men, tree-men, stone-men, different stone-men that on closer look might not actually be stone, the little lizard-men hosts. Yúkró reflects on the strangeness of his surroundings. Reading his expression, and far enough away from the Truthseers to be willing to speak, Ṭhùtšrũ leans in and grunts "Too far from the sea. What do you expect?" Yúkró sighs, glances over towards his sister to make sure she wasn't getting into any trouble, off watching the Ko-ball game, and then turns to go find the other humans he had seen. At least they might be normal.

The Scion of the Thalaz'ir

Eventually, he approaches Gezhe, having found a translator again. "May your winds be favorable. I am Sọ́gẹ Yúkró. I am relived to see more humans here. It would seem the deep land is even stranger than I had thought." He studies her carefully, clearly very interested in to what extent she will prove to be strange herself. Ṭhùtšrũ merely grunts agreement from under his bear head.

**Ausar** · 2020-07-13, 11:24 PM (ISO 8601)

Raou-Lauf's rheumy eyes, nearly obscured in his old age by gnarls of bark and wood a foot below his branching canopy, peer down at the Ko with the feathered head he had now been informed was not, in fact, part bird, and slowly reached out to pat the long-suffering Leafhair on the head (his knees buckled slightly), before turning and striding off in the direction he'd come, his animalian entourage in tow. Leafhair turned about, tucking away the small flute and bits and bobs of bark and branch he'd been using to communicate with the old Deru. "Well, the good Counciltree has gone to inform the rest of the Conclave you are not likely to be dangerous. They should return once they've had a drink. Speaking of which-" and he helped himself to a bowl of wine. Wiping his mouth, he turned back to Thicket; "Well, I must say you're taking the whole 'world-being-bigger-than-you-thought' quite well, Towermaster. I commend your resourcefulness. Now if you'll excuse me..." and he ambled over to the flamboyantly clothed Hraban, Heinrich. "Hate to disturb you, my dear sir, but I've been trying to find a way for the Deru- the walking tree you saw earlier- to communicate a little... faster than they currently manage. I was thinking, seeing as you have that nifty system of symbols you showed the Towermaster, you might teach them how to use it? It's a little inconvenient to spend a minute telling them someone said hello. What do you say? I'm sure they could teach you something in return."

**mystic1110** · 2020-07-14, 07:44 AM (ISO 8601)

Upstairs

Let us not forget that Ells Ogra is a seven foot tall woman who looks like she is made of granite. Let us not forget that for all the bashfulness in deference to her elders that she shows that she is still of the Four Faiths. Let us not forget that she wrestled on the Holy Soil of the OORT Arena with Goliaths twice as strong and broken their bones. Let us not forget that she ran towards the Sovlon cliffs with her eyes closed to dare death and ran further than any other. Let us not forget that somehow this young slip of girl somehow balances her masters on a razor edge. Let us not forget how her muscles bulge as she smiles at Scurry’s question.

She slams her fist on the table. Shattering it. Scurry, who was leaning on the table falls down upon the splinters.

You don’t need to pay me.

She bends over to help up Scurry and picks up the fallen bones to hand back to her. She smiles once more and nods to the other female goliath and the Truthseer who was watching wide-eyed at this point. The Truthseer translates her brief words to Scurry and Ogra pats Scurry on the back good naturally and walks away.

The Truthseer asks her as they walked down the stairs Why that whole display? Why give them the idea to corrupt your new game and then threaten them?
Because I want the Game to be Corruptible.
But why?
Because I am discovering that Corruption is its own Entertainment and I am also discovering that Entertainment is like its own Faith, and I know the chains of Faith and the wings it provides. I see a road where we entangle them with amusement and free them with delinquency. At the end of the road we will be providers of both.
That's your plan!? It makes no sense!
Ogra ignored the outburst Besides if they fear me, they might pay me after all. I wonder with what though? What to make a bet?
The Truthseer quietly sneered . . .

Downstairs

During the events later that evening, a dark skinned short man with lean muscles and a confident air, sauntered to Ells Ogra and the Truthseer, that at this point was looking exhausted with trying to maintain some dignity. The man was clearly an important dignitary with yet another nation, a people that seemed much like the Goliath except the color of soil and smaller. The man was also clearly drunk. Ogra noted that while a Goliath could drink a gallon of flower wine perhaps these smaller races should drink much less.

The man started speaking and gesticulating and Ogra could do nothing except look back at him with a bemused and expectant expression. As Ogra looked at the man as he spoke a tongue she did not understand, she noticed his companion behind him, a short woman with a strange hair but also the most beautiful skin that she ever saw - whereas Goliaths looked like they were of granite the woman looked of much softer paler stone, grey moonstone perhaps. Ogra couldn't help but look, couldn’t help but want to touch. She was no maiden - she had swallowed Silphium Wine in the morning after a tryst in the flower fields, she had embraced another Witch-Sister or two during dusk after her duties in the Church Senate. She briefly closed her eyes and felt the illusory whisper of another's breath on the nape of her neck, the smell of another's hand as it traces its way up your rib cage towards your collar bone gently around your neck as you dug your nails into their legs, the feel of a lip between your teeth as you softly bit, and . . . she opened her eyes and caught the strange woman’s chuckle as her Truthseer was already translating the man's speech seemingly automatically and in a rote matter as a way to stabilize her expectations for this evening.

As Ogra returned to awareness she heard only the following of the translation "you for enough to go around. We're over by the mountains, in a valley between two rivers that deliver the fortune of the gods to us - and I say that we could use more entertaining guests like yourself!" She forced herself to wrench her sight away from the snake headed seductress who went back to gloomily sipping her wine and staring at the Games being conducted with a grim expression on her face. Ogra looked at Kalm and raised her hands palms up in that Goliath gesture of peace. She spoke through her Truthseer.

Apologies my friend, the Flower Wine had gotten ahead of me as well. I am glad that you enjoy it as much as we do, we would be happy to discuss its distribution to your country. And if you would have us, we she caught the serpent crowned eye of the moonstone woman would be honored to come.. Ogra's former craftiness, or was it simply insanity, was returned from her initial sudden and unexpected shock of rose's thorny thoughtless whip. The sweet smelling God was a cruel one, lashing anyone at any time at his whim. She raised her hand to her own hair, to tuck a loose hair into her crown of flowers. But it seems that the Wine is not to your companions taste. We would hate for either of you to leave to your home with such a sour taste in your mouths.

**Zayuz** · 2020-07-14, 06:39 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: Human Connections (Aventine)

Show

Originally Posted by Aventine

Eventually, he approaches Kalm, having found a translator again. "May your winds be favorable. I am Sọ́gẹ Yúkró. I am relived to see more humans here. It would seem the deep land is even stranger than I had thought." He studies him carefully, clearly very interested in to what extent he will prove to be strange himself. Ṭhùtšrũ merely grunts agreement from under his bear head.[/font]

The due from the Blessed Vale take a curious look over these new humans, the third group of them in the region if they count themselves. Most likely, however, these fur-bearing fellows had called the area home for many generations longer than Alqar and the Thalaz'ir. Merine and Kalm were just finished watching the larger creatures among them playing toss with the Ko, remaining amused but not at all too busy for conversation Where the chief of the Sọ́ge clan seems to understand something of formalities, the chief of Alqar understood no such trivialities. He steps up and bids a friendly hello to his kin of lighter skin with a hand placed against his arm and a nod from his head. His touch didn't linger, which could lead the others to assume that this was some sort of hands-on greeting. "Stranger lands, yes, but less hostile than we had imagined! I'm Kalm Alqar, from the Blessed Vale between two rivers. The clean skies have returned, and for that we have much cause to celebrate - have you tried the drinks that the stone-men brought? They're something else." A woman whose grey stone-like skin glitters with the hue of gemstones and the hair of snakes waits patiently behind him, clearly not human herself. She nods her head in greeting to the few that approached them, saying her name and title that their translator would repeat, indicating that it is just her name and title. "I am Merine, apprentice of the stars. Glad to meet you."

Spoiler: Skin of Stone and Hair of Snakes (Mystic)

Show

Originally Posted by mystic1110

During the events later that evening, a dark skinned short man with lean muscles and a confident air, sauntered to Ells Ogra and the Truthseer, that at this point was looking exhausted with trying to maintain some dignity. The man was clearly an important dignitary with yet another nation, a people that seemed much like the Goliath except the color of soil and smaller. The man was also clearly drunk. Ogra noted that while a Goliath could drink a gallon of flower wine perhaps these smaller races should drink much less.

The man started speaking and gesticulating and Ogra could do nothing except look back at him with a bemused and expectant expression. As Ogra looked at the man as he spoke a tongue she did not understand, she noticed his companion behind him, a short woman with a strange hair but also the most beautiful skin that she ever saw - whereas Goliaths looked like they were of granite the woman looked of much softer paler stone, grey moonstone perhaps. Ogra couldn't help but look, couldn’t help but want to touch. She was no maiden - she had swallowed Silphium Wine in the morning after a tryst in the flower fields, she had embraced another Witch-Sister or two during dusk after her duties in the Church Senate. She briefly closed her eyes and felt the illusory whisper of another's breath on the nape of her neck, the smell of another's hand as it traces its way up your rib cage towards your collar bone gently around your neck as you dug your nails into their legs, the feel of a lip between your teeth as you softly bit, and . . . she opened her eyes and caught the strange woman’s chuckle as her Truthseer was already translating the man's speech seemingly automatically and in a rote matter as a way to stabilize her expectations for this evening.

As Ogra returned to awareness she heard only the following of the translation "you for enough to go around. We're over by the mountains, in a valley between two rivers that deliver the fortune of the gods to us - and I say that we could use more entertaining guests like yourself!" She forced herself to wrench her sight away from the snake headed seductress who went back to gloomily sipping her wine and staring at the Games being conducted with a grim expression on her face. Ogra looked at Kalm and raised her hands palms up in that Goliath gesture of peace. She spoke through her Truthseer.

Apologies my friend, the Flower Wine had gotten ahead of me as well. I am glad that you enjoy it as much as we do, we would be happy to discuss its distribution to your country. And if you would have us, we she caught the serpent crowned eye of the moonstone woman would be honored to come.. Ogra's former craftiness, or was it simply insanity, was returned from her initial sudden and unexpected shock of rose's thorny thoughtless whip. The sweet smelling God was a cruel one, lashing anyone at any time at his whim. She raised her hand to her own hair, to tuck a loose hair into her crown of flowers. But it seems that the Wine is not to your companions taste. We would hate for either of you to leave to your home with such a sour taste in your mouths.

Kalm gave her a satisfied nod, slowing down a bit as indicated and letting his fingers graze across the earthen wealth worn upon his necklace. Hearing that the marble-woman and her troupe might pay them a visit, he relaxed and looked as though he could rest easy knowing that he got his message across somehow. All the while, Merine was patiently standing behind him - having studied the goliath during their exchange with veiled interest. As soon as Ogra turned to look at her, she flicked her eyes away to the combat below as if she were caught trespassing. Her slithering hair, however, did not bear the same level of tact. The snakes made a soft - but not hostile - hiss, which caused Merine a flustered gasp at her body's lack of self control and prompted a light shake of her head to dissuade them from further noise. Their scales bore the same glint and moonstone hue that her skin did, along with just visible fangs that suggested she may not be as unarmed as she appeared. Now addressed more or less directly, she gingerly turns to Ogra with a similarly pleasant smirk to before.

"Forgive him, miss. They drink from rivers where he is from, with no need for wine - and thus have no tolerance to it and lack the knowledge to consume it slowly. Your drinks are excellent, but one of us will need to be fit to guide us home after the festivities are done... Unless a sufficiently compelling occasion arises." Her voice is soft and teasing, but her speech more rigid. It suggests at least a different background to the human she accompanied, or even a different native tongue she converts to his and a second time over to Ogra through their generous translator. Kalm shakes his head at her words, whose following exchange may or may not bother to be translated depending on how enthusiastic their truthseer was.

"And how am I to come to tolerate it without practice? Come on, we don't see this stuff every day."
"If this is practice, then you ought to get all your new warriors to practice combat against the Breaker of Spines."
"Bah. Fine."

**Aventine** · 2020-07-14, 10:14 PM (ISO 8601)

Originally Posted by Zayuz

The due from the Blessed Vale take a curious look over these new humans, the third group of them in the region if they count themselves. Most likely, however, these fur-bearing fellows had called the area home for many generations longer than Alqar and the Thalaz'ir. Merine and Kalm were just finished watching the larger creatures among them playing toss with the Ko, remaining amused but not at all too busy for conversation Where the chief of the Sọ́ge clan seems to understand something of formalities, the chief of Alqar understood no such trivialities. He steps up and bids a friendly hello to his kin of lighter skin with a hand placed against his arm and a nod from his head. His touch didn't linger, which could lead the others to assume that this was some sort of hands-on greeting. "Stranger lands, yes, but less hostile than we had imagined! I'm Kalm Alqar, from the Blessed Vale between two rivers. The clean skies have returned, and for that we have much cause to celebrate - have you tried the drinks that the stone-men brought? They're something else." A woman whose grey stone-like skin glitters with the hue of gemstones and the hair of snakes waits patiently behind him, clearly not human herself. She nods her head in greeting to the few that approached them, saying her name and title that their translator would repeat, indicating that it is just her name and title. "I am Merine, apprentice of the stars. Glad to meet you."

Yúkró bows deeply to Merine, "Ah. I meant no offense to any non-humans, of course. Though I daresay you seem close enough to qualify as almost 'normal' here as far as I am concerned. No offense...again." He turns back to Kalm, the mention of the goliaths' wine mostly forgotten in the wake of something more interesting. "Rivers, you say? I take it then that you do not live near the sea?" Life far from the sea seemed unthinkable. That there were so many strange beings here could make some sense, strange things living in strange places far from the ocean was reasonable enough. Humans living in those strange places, though. What kind of life could they have? But he was also eyeing Kalm's gemstones closely. Displays of wealth like that he understood and expected. It was a bit gauche to upstage the hosts, but still. Finding the source, or likely targets for raids, would make this whole trip worth it alone. "One of the other tribes of my people have taken an interest in exploring upriver, along the major river we are familiar with. Perhaps it is also one of yours?"

Thread: E6 Mamut Round 1 Event: Party at the Towerhome!

E6 Mamut Round 1 Event: Party at the Towerhome!

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