Stone and Blood: Act 2, Chapter 9
Chapter 9
The chime of chisels cutting into stone rose into the air over the new ‘market quarter’ in the Dale of Defiance.
Florine drew her fingers lightly over a slab of freshly-polished sandstone half her height, her gaze wandering over the yard where dozens of hunched figures worked tirelessly into the night. Boobeebee and Iliky’ie walked beside her, their heads turning this way and that as they took in the sight.
“I thought you were familiar with the Dark Dwarves,” Florine said.
“This is unlike what I have seen before,” Boobeebee said. “In the past, the Dark Dwarves used tents as you do. These dwellings of hewn stone are new, though they resemble those of the Humans in Roble.”
She glanced at the Dark Dwarves nearby. If they were anything like the Mountain Dwarves, they would be quick to challenge any notion that their craftsmanship could be compared to those of other races. The Zern hero’s painfully loud statement was met with nothing more than the sound of continued work, however.
Something doesn’t seem right...
More precisely, something was missing. It took her an hour of watching the Dark Dwarves work to realise what it was. To put it loosely, there was a lack of energy; no sense of joyful anticipation filled the air as it always would with the coming of a seasonal fair. All that went on around her was work. Work and more work.
Or perhaps it was just her.
“Liolio,” she asked, “what do Miq look like when they’re happy?”
“Pip!”
He was perched on her head so she couldn’t see him anyway. She turned her attention to Iliky’ie.
“What about the Y’y’yoiy? How do they express their happiness?”
“Why do you ask so much about happiness?” Iliky’ie replied in a tentative tone.
“...because I’d like for this to be a place where everyone can be happy,” Florine said.
Boobeebee and Iliky’ie stopped in their tracks. Even Liolio felt like he went deathly still.
“What’s wrong?” Florine asked.
“A fixation on happiness is probably unwise when conveying your intent to the tribes,” Boobeebee said. “Jaldabaoth, too, communicated his desire to deliver ‘happiness’ to all. As you might guess, the results of his...efforts were not well-received.”
Is this stupid Jaldabaoth picking a fight with me?!
Even when he wasn’t around anymore, Florine felt like she was being foiled by the Fiend at every other turn. Within the deep wounds that he had left behind, seeds had been sown, ready to sprout up and choke any attempt at nurturing the people back to a healthy state – both physically and mentally.
Florine’s head bobbed slightly as Liolio hopped up onto his feet. She took a deep breath and cleared her thoughts. Just a few days had passed, yet the Miq had already grown attentive to shifts in her mood.
“How do people live from day to day with Jaldabaoth’s shadow haunting them like this?” She asked.
“I don’t think it’s a question of how,” Boobeebee said. “We simply do. One cannot simply just stop living. Well, I suppose that one could, but it seems foolish.”
“What I meant was how do you go back to your normal lives? The lives that you had before Jaldabaoth appeared.”
Iliky’ie and Boobeebee exchanged a look.
“You would not like that,” Boobeebee told her. “If I understand it correctly, you wish for us to live in peace and harmony with one another. Our lives before Jaldabaoth’s appearance were far from that.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” Florine said, “but were you satisfied with your lives back then?”
“I cannot speak for the other races,” Boobeebee said, “but we Zern were content in our Thousand Sinkholes. Even so, this past life does not seem to be what you wish for.”
As with the tribes she had visited so far and what little detail she had on the others, that life consisted of defending their territory and competing over resources. Of course, nearby competitors were also considered resources, as many of the races in the Abelion Hills ate each other.
Going by the accounts of the Zern, small ‘empires’ were carved out all over the region where strong tribes surrounded themselves with dozens of lesser tribes which were raided for food and valuables. As strange as it seemed, those strong tribes fought other strong tribes over who got to eat the weaker tribes which meant that the weak tribes were only in danger of being wiped out by random monsters or ‘lawless’ marauders.
Much like Humans, the Demihumans innovated solutions, developing social constructs based on their way of doing things. If one considered it as a form of societal evolution, the ‘advanced’ raiding that one might see in the Abelion Hills or what used to happen in the Draconic Kingdom was the equivalent of an informal tributary system drawn from the raid-centred foundations of the local tribal cultures. It allowed powerful tribes to leverage extraterritorial resources many times beyond their ability to directly control by feeding off of the populations that managed them.
A careless glance might lead many to the conclusion that the practice could be used as an avenue to introduce a system of taxation, but it was an overly simplistic view. Two fundamental issues lay with seeing it that way.
The first was the economic reality of the type of tribal society that they were dealing with. Industry was simple, intermittent, and lacking the consistency or scale at which it might be relied upon for revenue. Tax collectors would not be met by reluctance or defiance, but confusion as the people didn’t have any concept of taxes.
Secondly was the fact that tribute implied certain things, regardless of race. It was just as much a political statement as it was about collecting riches. Conquered peoples offered tribute, as the tribes north of E-Rantel initially did. There were also instances where lopsided power relationships encouraged weaker parties to ‘voluntarily’ offer payment for protection.
While it couldn’t be helped that things went the way that they did upon the Sorcerous Kingdom’s sudden appearance and assumption of power, the sooner proper order was established, the better. Citizens were not tributaries, nor were the people supposed to be swept up in some nation-sized protection racket.
In general, the legislation of the realm had to be implemented in a way that the various races of the Sorcerous Kingdom could genuinely understand and accept. Proper rule needed to replace the peace of the sword.
“In that case,” Florine said, “let’s focus on matters of administration. How do you decide on your laws and policies? How were those laws and policies enforced and carried out?”
“The Zern have no need for laws amongst ourselves,” Boobeebee replied. “As for policies, what goes on inside the hive dictates what happens outside of it.”
King Beebeezee spoke at length about how Zern hives functioned, but she didn’t consider that it would define the entirety of how they were governed. While each possessed their own unique personality, the race of social insectoids tended to refer to themselves as parts of the hive rather than individuals who dwelled within it.
Zern society revolved around the health of the hive as a whole, which could be divided into several distinct aspects. Those aspects were the same, yet different from those that could be found in Human society.
The – literally – central aspect was that of reproduction, which revolved around the incredibly low ratio of males to females in the Zern race. Even before Jaldabaoth had killed every male but Beebeezee, there were several thousand females for every male. Each male was born a royal in a sense far different from Human recognition. They were, for lack of a better word, ‘breeding royalty’ – individuals upon which the existence of the entire species hinged.
Though they had a king, they had no kingdom. There was no system of legislation, nor anything resembling an aristocracy. A Zern hive grew to the limit of what its territory could sustain and reproduction only happened to sustain the population at that limit. Everything was subtly regulated through an unfathomable interplay of ‘scents’ that elements of the hive and each individual Zern gave off. Criminal behaviour, which amounted to actions that intentionally harmed the hive, was unthinkable.
King Beebeezee provided an example of how it worked, explaining ‘hunger’ as a scent which communicated the need to gather food to the hive. Hunters would similarly emit scents signifying degrees of success. If hunters could find enough food to satiate the hive, that scent of ‘satiety’ would encourage breeding behaviour. Eggs would be laid and the cycle would continue until hunters couldn’t find enough food within range of the hive and a different scent would put an end to egg production and the excess eggs were consumed.
As such, the size of the hive in the Thousand Sinkholes had remained the same for time immemorial. The tribes of the Abelion Hills had long learned to leave the Zern alone because waging war with them created a ‘breeding frenzy’ where the depopulation of the hive combined with the availability of food through warfare created a massive spike in the Zern population and the resulting backlash. Since attacking the hive itself proved an impossible challenge for the neighbouring tribes, attacking the Zern only meant that the attacker was making themselves vulnerable to attack by their own neighbours.
Considering what she knew, Florine felt that she was presented with two options when it came to the Zern’s inclusion into the Sorcerous Kingdom. The first was to simply leave them be, allowing the self-regulating behaviour of Zern hives to keep them where they were. She didn’t like that option much as it meant that they would forever be apart from the rest of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s greater society.
“Not even you?”
Boobeebee let out a short laugh.
“There are places above the great flow that are too dangerous for even heroes to tread,” she said. “Trying to go any deeper is unthinkable. If we had far more Zern than we currently have, however...well, quantity has a quality all of its own and individual Zern are not exactly weak.”
“I don’t understand why you have to be so warlike in your thinking,” Florine sighed.
“As far as I know,” Boobeebee said, “conflict is more common than peace. “I know of no one who has gone through the same effort as you to do what you are trying to do. The Humans that we fought with in Roble only saw our cooperation as a means to an end. Our relationship with them ended as soon as we left.”
King Beebeezee suggested as much during her time in the Thousand Sinkholes, but was that truly the case? Could people who experienced the same, harrowing war that Jaldabaoth brought upon the region so simply go their separate ways? While the isolationist nature of the Zern did tend towards them allowing any relationships that they had with outsiders to drift apart, Florine couldn’t imagine Roble doing the same thing. No matter their underlying motives, Nobles tended to leverage their connections as much as possible so she couldn’t imagine that the Holy Kingdom’s aristocrats could disregard their new relationship with the Zern so easily.
Maybe I should bring some Zern over to the Holy Kingdom and see what happens.
Was she allowed to do that? Promoting amicable relations between the citizens of the Sorcerous Kingdom and the Holy Kingdom of Roble wasn’t out of line with national policy. Once things were a bit better sorted out in the Abelion Hills, she would have to give it a try. It would help immensely if they weren’t simply just visiting and brought something of value to the table.
Ahead of them, Falagrim and a few of his subordinates rose from their places around a campfire at Florine’s approach.
“What is it?” Falagrim said.
Despite his curt reception, Florine put on a warm smile. Falagrim’s frown only deepened in response, almost looking as if his entire beard was frowning along with him.
I should introduce this guy to Ludmila. They could have a frowning contest.
“I just came to see how you and your people are doing,” Florine said. “Thank you for being so prompt and thorough with your cooperation, by the way.”
“Did you expect something else?” Falagrim asked.
“I didn’t have any expectations,” Florine answered. “Since it seemed that you didn’t like being compared to the Mountain Dwarves, I’m doing my best to shed any preconceptions that I may have developed.”
The Dark Dwarf snorted and sat back down. Florine took several steps forward, savouring the warmth of the fire after strolling in the chilly night wind.
Honestly, she had no idea what he liked aside from slaves. It felt like he took offence at everything. He obviously hadn’t had a change of heart since agreeing to cooperate with her, but she still hadn’t developed any sense of what his motives were. The fact that the Dark Dwarves seemed to throw themselves into their task was surprising, to say the least.
“I heard that this wasn’t the usual way that you set things up,” Florine said.
“You said that you wanted something permanent.”
“Yes, that’s right. I appreciate that you’ve even sized them for the different races that will come here.”
“Did you have a question?”
Florine glanced over the semicircle of bearded faces looking up at her. Maybe brusque grumpiness was a racial trait.
“Despite their apparent zeal over construction work,” Florine said, “the construction crews don’t seem very pleased. Might I inquire as to the relationship you have with these gentlemen?”
Falagrim exchanged looks with the other Dark Dwarves at the campfire, then his gaze went to the construction crews toiling away in the darkness. After a moment, his attention slowly returned to Florine.
“They’re labourers,” he said. “Why does it matter whether they’re pleased?”
“Well, this is supposed to be a market. Aren’t markets supposed to be a bit more...upbeat?”
A low grunting sound rose from the Dark Dwarf’s throat. It took her a moment to realise that Falagrim was chuckling. Even then, he didn’t smile.
“I see. You did say that it was going to be a market. Shall we liven things up a bit, then? Enough to make a Dark Dwarf smile?”
Falagrim’s gauntlet went to the heavy whip on his hip. The corner of Florine’s lip turned downward.
“I was merely ensuring that your employees weren’t being mistreated, Master Falagrim,” she said. “On that note, you needn’t focus on the marketplace and visitors’ accommodations, first. I won’t think poorly of you if you built dwellings for yourself and your people.”
“That’s not what we’re here to do,” Falagrim replied. “Here’s a piece of advice for you, girl – Dark Dwarves don’t do happy. Well, I suppose that Jaldabaoth fellow had his own brand of happiness going on. That wasn’t so bad at all.”
Liolio stood with a ruffle of his feathers as Florine’s hands balled up into fists.
“I can’t understand how you could do business with that vile Fiend,” she said.
“He had an army to equip and he paid on time with no fuss,” Falagrim said. “An excellent Merchant such as yourself should have no problems understanding why that’s a good thing.”
Why did I expect any better from a slave trader?
At least he wouldn’t be able to perpetrate his evil from now on. Not in the Sorcerous Kingdom, at least.
“Lady Gagnier.”
She turned at the sound of Isoroku’s voice. One of his juniors from the administration had come to join him.
“What’s the matter?” She asked.
“A volatile situation has developed near the western border,” Isoroku answered.
Florine froze, her stomach dropping with a queasy feeling.
“The western border...which part of the western border?”
“A section along the buffer zone between the Sorcerous Kingdom and the Holy Kingdom of Roble,” the Elder Lich replied.
No. I just got here. This can’t happen yet!
“Prepare my escort,” Florine said. “We leave at once.”