diff --git a/lore/etymologies.txt b/lore/etymologies.txt index 066ba91..58a3097 100644 --- a/lore/etymologies.txt +++ b/lore/etymologies.txt @@ -1,4 +1,10 @@ Whitewood: named for cottonwoods Ennearch Simeon: Named for st Simeon Stylites -Ennearch Isidor: gift of isis, gifts charity it's a bit meh but I asked mallory for a letter and she said i. +Ennearch Isidor: + gift of isis, gifts charity it's a bit meh but I asked mallory for a letter and she said i. + patron saint of farmers too. Brody: https://www.reddit.com/r/askgaybros/comments/4zpe82/generally_speaking_what_are_some_fuckboy_names/ + +Notburga: + https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Notburga + patron saint of fields diff --git a/sarlastory/sarla-goes-to-redgrove.txt b/sarlastory/sarla-goes-to-redgrove.txt index b28be4a..27f50db 100644 --- a/sarlastory/sarla-goes-to-redgrove.txt +++ b/sarlastory/sarla-goes-to-redgrove.txt @@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ Sarla thought it would have required Dwarven assistance to create the seamless g The panels depicted the Lord of the Mountain in the process of creating the Hidden Lands: the creation of a new space separate from the Outer Lands, the creation of Beasts, Birds and Dwarves, the Tripartition of the Voices. Sarla knew Auroklos wasn't part of any Office, but the beauty of the halls in the Office of Charity brought home how out of favour her mentor was. -Sarla made her way to the antechamber before the Ennearch's office. +Sarla made her way to the antechamber before the Ennearch of Charity's office. Two assistants stood stiffly by the door, wearing brown Renunciate robes with a gold sash over a shoulder The Ennearch was busy, as one of them told Sarla, so she sat and waited. The opulent room smelled of peat and mist, and the gold and white themes around her looked gaudy and overdone, nothing like Auroklos's cosy dark woods. @@ -58,9 +58,188 @@ Inside, the compartment was ringed with windows, with three rows of seats spaced It looked as though six yaks could squeeze in. The Ennearch took a row to himself, and Brody the next, leaving Fidgetboy and Sarla to squeeze into the back. -―This is all Dwarf-made, Fidgetboy whispered to Sarla, presumably because she was looking around too much at the unfamiliar vehicle. +The coach lurched to a start, and began to move. +Unlike the trams in the city, the ride was bumpy, hopping up and down constantly over the ground. +Sarla kept feeling as though she would fall out of her seat. + +―This is all Dwarf-made, Fidgetboy whispered to Sarla, presumably because she was looking uncomfortable with the unfamiliar vehicle. Ottowan design for the body, or something. The engine is commissioned from Mountberg. ―Brody, did you ask Sarla her full range of capabilities?, Isidor said loudly, cutting off the discussion on the coach. - I would find it very displeasing if we reach + I would find it very displeasing if the Mayor of Redgrove cannot have his petition granted today. + +―No, sir, she seemed unwilling to talk earlier, Brody said, like a little obsequious shit, Sarla thought. + She might be more forthcoming with you here. + Sarla, which Meadowlarks are you able to command? + + +Sarla felt her temper start to flare at being assigned blame by Isidor's fawning servant. + +―As I'd have told you if you'd asked, I have command up to the unyielding Meadowlark. + I've mastered Notburga's techniques for crop blessings as part of my studies. + I still haven't gotten any other information on what I'll be asked to do. + If I had, I'd have done more research on anything else you need me to do. + +―It's important you be honest, Brody said. + How much command do you actually have over the unyielding Meadowlark? + If you only know a few techniques, it changes what Isidor will promise + +―I meant what I said. + I can connect completely with the unyielding Meadowlark. + +Brody started to say something, but the Ennearch interrupted him. + +―Brody, let her be. + If she's telling the truth, then Peter will be pleased. + If not, Auroklos will suffer the consequences. + +He turned back to look at Sarla. + +―You think you're clever, don't you?, Isidor said. + Auroklos said you could become quite powerful. + But using the Meadowlark is just one kind of power. + My kind of power is that you are here, working for me. + Which kind do you think is better? + +Sarla felt shame and anger curdle in her chest. +She looked down and kept silent. + +―Exactly, Isidor said. + Shelve your arrogance and learn your place. + +The journey continued in an awkward, tense near-silence, broken only by the occasional squeals and grumbles from the engine of the coach and the crunch of dirt and rock under wheels. +By the time they'd left the Haven, the Ennearch had fallen asleep in his seat, leaving Sarla to stew. +After a few hours through empty barren fields and forest along the road north of the Haven, occasional groups of yak homes made of wood passed by the window. +Each group had three or four wooden houses, simple in construction, and the groups were separated by wide stretches of land. + +―How much longer until Redgrove?, Fidgetboy asked. + +―This is Redgrove, Brody answered. + It's been Redgrove for a while. + Out here it's not like the city. + Everything's spread out a lot. + Wild grazing. + +The distance between groups of buildings did indeed start to decrease, and eventually they reached what must have been the middle of the town. +It was only twenty or so buildings. +The coach stopped in front of one slightly larger wooden hall, and Brody disembarked alone. +Sarla watched him enter the larger hall, and eventually he came out with a very tall yak with light grey fur wearing a black hat. +They waited a moment outside of the coach, and Sarla wondered what the wait was. +After a minute or so, the Ennearch started to stir, and Sarla saw Brody walk over and open the coach door. + +―Allow me to introduce you to His Exalted Grace Isidor, Ennearch of Charity, Brody announced. + To Isidor, he added, and the Honourable Mayor Peter of Redgrove. + +―It's delightful to meet you, Your Grace, Peter said. + The Flocks of all of the Northern Realms have been faithful to the Office of Charity for a long time. + +―Call me Isidor, Peter. + It's my pleasure to see you. + And as soon as I received your letter I knew I had to come. + +―It has been a difficult year. + And as soon as I saw that the Suppression was ending, I knew we needed to ask for your aid. + +Isidor smiled. + +―It is the duty of all the Ennearchs to protect their Flocks. + Please, let us begin. + +Peter looked taken aback. + +―Are you sure? + If you'd like to take any time to rest from your trip, I'd be happy to invite you for lunch. + +―No, I think it's best to focus on our work. + +―In that case, let us go to the fields. + +They walked for a little while, with Isidor and Peter speaking too quietly for Sarla to follow. +Atop a little hill near the main hall, Sarla could see the road to the Haven, and the town of Redgrove itself more clearly. +Patches of buildings dotted the roadside, making a semicircle around one side of a larger valley between two sets of hills. +The valley itself was covered by a brownish, dry grass, not particularly enjoyable for grazing. +The view was stunning, and Sarla could feel the vibration of energy from the earth. +This was, she thought, special ground. + +―The town hasn't seen the red flowers that give it its name in quite some time, Peter said. + Back before Suppression, our Flockleaders would petition the Hierarchy for aid in keeping the grove healthy and alive. + But when the Republic stopped that, it began to die off more often. + +As the mayor spoke, Sarla felt a pull from the grass. +The whispered rustling in her ears spoke of intent and yearning. +It wanted her to pour herself into it, she thought. + +―Indeed, I've heard the same in the other towns in the north, Isidor said. + +―The Mayor of Whitewood says you came to see her last month. + +Isidor smiled. + +―Do not worry, Peter. + It is merely a necessity of scheduling. + Redgrove is no less in our affections than any other of our followers. + Sarla will head down to the valley and begin her work. + Each month, we can bless your fields. + After a while, it will grow again. + +―I can do it from here, Sarla said. + +Before Isidor could respond, she dove into the Meadowlark, letting her legs sink into the ground. +She let the bones in her leg feel like stalks, and her tendons unfurled into sprouting seeds. +The smell of moss filled her nose, then her nose itself dissolved into the earth. +Ahead of her body, she cast her mind through the roots of the earth down the hill, towards the grove. +The grass felt dull, unalive, and she let vitality pour through her body into it. +Nothing happened at first, but then she felt the field lap up the energy flowing through her. + +In a small area near the town centre, the meadow began to perk up. +She could feel dry grass returning blade by blade to life, green slowly replacing brown. +The roots were tangled, so Sarla pruned the dead branches and burned them to fuel her work. +Unencumbered by dead matter, they grew with renewed vigour, sucking water and nutrients from the earth. +The earth started to weaken from the strain, so Sarla let her attention drift downwards, supplying the soil itself with power. + +Onward she went, pruning and feeding, keeping the soil strong to provide the plants a sturdy foundation while teasing new growth from the dry ground. +Larger patches would look green now, she thought. +Her work was already done, and she'd exceeded expectations. +But something else had been calling her, eating at her attention. +Something more than a routine blessing of a field. + +The field lacked something vital; it was not meant to be so weak. +Giving it new life, restoring it completely. +The field had been long dead though, and Sarla could feel the size of the task ahead of her. +As she sank into a routine her mind started to wander. +The earth sang to her, worms and dirt. +At first their song sounded like an indistinct whisper. +Sarla let herself dissolve further, touching something deeper in the Meadowlark. +Images flashed in her mind of Practicants of old, pre-Suppression. +Chatter in her ears of glorious life, insects and grazing yaks feeding on the plants alike. + +The grove wanted a return. +She felt the loss Suppression had caused, the missing attention. +The grove felt spurned, unwanted. +Reassurance spilled out of Sarla, reassurance borne on the faith of Redgrove's Flocks. +The song seemed to crystallise on a single note, a great humming. +Some strands of fate seemed to cover up that note, so Sarla began to prune. + +All at once she felt a massive wall of energy surge by, its dam finally broken. +It soaked through her body, and she let it flow into the grove, which drank at it with a frantic thirst. +Quickly, the song in her ears faded. +The lights and sounds dimmed, and she felt herself disconnect from the Meadowlark. + +Her legs were sunk into the ground in a little mound of newly fertile soil, and she pulled herself out. +Air caught in her lungs a moment, and it took a few attempts to get her breathing to slow. +At first her vision was blurred, and she did not immediately recognise the yaks next to her. +It wasn't clear how long she had taken. + +As she came to her senses, she remembered where she was. +The yaks around her didn't seem to be noticing her coming back out of the Meadowlark, so she followed their gaze. +Ahead of her, a circle of red was growing outwards from where she first touched the grove, where the dry grass was not merely growing back in green, but instead also letting the red flowers of the grove return as well. +The circle rapidly expanded, until the entire valley ahead was in bloom. + +Brody was standing slack-jawed, and Fidgetboy turned to give Sarla a wide-eyed stare of unalloyed admiration. +―May the Lord preserve us, Peter said. + I knew we had always dutifully supported the Hierarchy, but... + +He trailed off and turned to Isidor, before kneeling. + +―Your Grace, Redgrove is yours to command.