"North"
(WC 2371)
“What do you know of the tribes?” Chulon sat with Katarine. It had been years since they patrolled together, but their comradery held fast. He knew that she would have valuable insight to help him in his attempt to infiltrate the clan structure to be found in Vechtazul.
“We know they are not very suspicious of newcomers.” Katarine said after some thought. “We have placed a few scouts in their ranks and the transition has always gone easily. I don't think they expect any of us would leave the comforts of home in favor of the harsh conditions they live in.”
There was something about Katarine's voice that gave Chulon reason to doubt what she was saying. It wasn't that he felt she was lying to him, he simply sensed she was holding something back.
“There's more to it... what else?” Chulon was blunt. Katarine had initially trained him in Laethecna. It seemed a natural course, he was the only one who had survived their mutual encounter all those years ago. He felt they still shared a certain bond because of it though. There was a respect Chulon had for Katarine which would never wane.
“You should know that most of our scouts have never returned.” Katarine looked him squarely in the eye. “They are accepted and they do fine for a long time. Many of them report very important things which help our defense greatly, but.... The longer they stay up there, the more likely it is they will just... disappear.”
“Disappear?” Chulon furrowed his brow at the vagueness. She wouldn't be vague unless there were truly no reason to speculate about what had happened to their scouts. “Do they become sympathetic? Or are they discovered?”
“I believe they are discovered. It doesn't make sense after all the time they spend in the group... they always report acceptance and companionship. We have tried many different means of introducing them to the life up there, exhausted all of our tactics. Somehow, they always lose contact and then they are gone. We send more scouts, but nobody ever sees these missing again.”
Chulon was starting to believe Pinmey's fantastic accusation about a magical society working within the bounds of the northern tribes. Katarine wouldn't make something like this up.
“Do you think there is another force at work... something more powerful and... insightful than the clan leadership?” He baited her, hoping to discover if the Ortakij knew anything of this society Pinmey had told him about. But Katarine shook her head in bewilderment.
“If there is something else at work in the northlands, we have never seen evidence of it. I don't know what it is, but scouting up there is a suicide mission. We don't ask our men to do it any more. Only those who volunteer are sent.”
Chulon sighed. He was hoping to glean some useful information before attempting to infiltrate the clan structure in Vechtazul, but so far he had only encountered fear and resistance to his plan.
“If there is something at work within the tribes, I will find it Katarine. I will find it and get out.”
Now it was Katarine who sighed. Chulon was capable, more capable than any of the scouts they had sent so far. But what he desired was a terrible risk. He represented a resource that the Ortakij could use. She felt strongly that if he wanted to re-engage the fight against the north, there were better ways to go about it. But she sensed there were things Chulon was holding back. He had motivations unspoken which drove him to this course. She could not approve, but there seemed little to be done to stop him. He had always been a stubborn one.
“If you must go, there are two things you should know.” She said at last, resigned to this unfortunate course. “Start with the tribe of Gulala. Our scouts there have always lasted the longest. But don't stay there. Move to different tribes. Stay moving. Don't settle in any one place too long. The only pattern I have seen is that once our men stop moving, they stop reporting back.”
It wasn't much, but it was a starting point. He had already relieved himself of all the valuables he carried. The things which held special meaning for him, he gave to Katarine for safe keeping. There wasn't much, just an old ring and the medallion he had earned from the Ortakij for surviving a demon attack. Katarine promised they would be waiting for him when he returned. Valuables of any sort would immediately raise suspicion from the clans. Nobody in the north had the means to possess such things.
Chulon decided to stay in Guervin for a few more days. Katarine had many stories to tell and if the clans were as dangerous as she was indicating, he felt it wise to enjoy what could be his last days in the civilized world. One of his favorite places in Guervin was atop the Ridgewall, so named because it overlooked the Ridge of Kemolen. He did not know who Kemolen was or what the significance of that ridge had once been, but the name had been passed down diligently through the generations. Chulon assumed it had more meaning to the northern clans who once ruled this region.
As he stood atop the Ridgewall and gazed out over the vast expanse that was Guervin, its five districts and magnificent heart, Chulon was amazed that a society as disorganized and chaotic as the clans were could have come together and manufactured such a marvel. Some said the magnificence of Guervin rivaled the beauty of Calugress. Chulon disagreed, much preferring the beauty of Calugress' intricate architectural feats, but even history showed kings of the Ancient Kingdom giving Guervin preference.
The city certainly offered more protection than Calugress. The latter was built piece by piece, slowly spreading across the Chixsin Plateau. Calugress lacked Guervin's high walls and protected gates. Sometime in the distant past one of the Jaltikij kings had decreed that a defensive wall be built around Calugress, but it was not integrated into the city and it lacked the feeling of strength that Guervin's outer wall exuded. The Ridgewall stood out from the rest of the city's sense of power, rising above the strong heights of the other, simpler walls. The Ridgewall was wide and arched, making a smooth curve around the city from its southern tip to its eastern reprise. As it made the journey from point to point, it rose smoothly into the air from the junction with the southern wall and then sunk down again to meet the eastern wall. Punctuating the length were three towers. What purpose they had originally served was unclear, but they were definitely part of the original design. It was the towers which had first revealed the hidden glories of the Ridgewall to Chulon. They were used now by Dour Gujhest to house its mages. The southernmost tower was for the Red, the middle one for the White and the northernmost tower was reserved for Ortakij emissaries. Once, Chulon had defined himself as a powerful White mage. When he visited Guervin for the White Council, he would stay there in the tower reserved for White Mages. It was well appointed and comfortable in that tower, which made it little surprise to Chulon that so few of the White ever bothered to venture upward onto the Ridgewall. Those who did, though, would always find time to return. He technically had no right to be on the Ridgewall now, but nobody would bother to question his presence.
Legend spoke of a great deity who had constructed Guervin for the tribes, as a place where they could come and settle their disputes. It was supposedly this same deity who had saved the Ancient Kingdom from falling into turmoil on countless occasions. It seemed there could be no other way this magnificent city would have ever existed, so hard was it to believe the clans could have accomplished it. But Chulon had his reservations about the legends surrounding this supposed deity. She was said to be a protector, given supreme power over all of the world, but if that were true why had she not been seen or heard from for hundreds of years? All gods made themselves known, from the greatest to the least among them. Chulon couldn't believe in some fantastical governor who never bothered to govern. Hard as it was to imagine, the clans had somehow come together in Guervin. Perhaps the power which had been invested into the creation of this city was the same mysterious power which was ferreting out the Ortakij scouts in the northlands. Perhaps there was more to the northern clans than any in the Southern Kingdoms had yet dared to imagine.
What would he find in the Vechtazul Solace?
-[ ]-
Several months in the tribe of Gulala had revealed many interesting things to Chulon. He had almost immediately confirmed the source of demons to be at the heart of the tribes somewhere. Gulala was at war with the neighboring tribe of Lom and he was almost immediately accosted by stories of demon attacks occuring even in the northlands. Apparently the leadership in Gulala believed the demons were coming from the tribe of Lom, which had long sought to overthrow them. Gulala survived by virtue of its size, but Lom was making distressing headway against them in recent months.
There was not much more to be learned from Gulala, they knew very little about the demons themselves. Chulon was not sure if the accusations leveled against Lom were accurate or simply guesses prompted by recent losses. Either way, it seemed apparent the tribe of Lom would be the best move for him as he continued his search. Evidence of demonic attacks was plainly visible throughout Gulala's holdings, leaving little doubt in Chulon's mind that he was closing in on the source.
Chulon feared bridging the gap between Lom and Gulala would be difficult, wondering if some hatred between the two clans would prove to be a roadblock. These fears were unjustified, though. Lom welcomed any who would defect into its fold, more than happy to drain resources from their enemy in any way possible. Chulon noted that survival was more important than origins, a tool he knew he could use effectively as he sought to uncover their secrets.
The clans were not as disorganized as Chulon had come to believe. Most of them maintained clear borderlines and established small towns across the countryside. These villages were transient affairs, constantly vulnerable to attack, but if a clan managed to put its neighbors on the defensive, as Lom had done, it would secure as much safety for itself as could be expected. None of the clans respected any other, though temporary treaties seemed to come and go with great regularity. Lom was currently allied with the two tribed of Plooryt and the tribe of Suspralty in their fight against Gulala, but Chulon witnessed firsthand many instances where members of Lom were almost openly plotting against their own allies, making plans for a new war after Gulala was defeated. It seemed to be an endless cycle. All of the clans were constantly locked in battle against each other for some measure of dominance. But there was no dominance to be had. Each clan could sustain a certain amount of power, but no more. Once they grew to a certain size, the clans would fracture from the inside out, splitting into different, new clans which were divided by their own separate interests. These divisions would eventually form into new official clans which would then proceed to war against each other all over again.
There was no rule of law to govern these groups and no central ideal to strive for. They simply chased after whatever appeared most attractive to them at the time. From his dealings, Chulon could clearly see that the clans did not recognize or understand their need for unity and laws because they constantly blamed all of their problems on the kingdoms to the south. In their opinion, if the southern kingdoms did not exist then there would be ample land and supplies to save them all from the cycle of war. Chulon shook his head inwardly at the purposelessness of their endeavors. Nothing Lom or any of the other tribes did would have any meaning or lasting value.
The quickest path to the inner circles and secrets of the clans was through service and displays of power. This was a benefit to Chulon, because he could easily climb the ranks to fame through the clans' incessant battles. It was not long before the leadership of Lom began to take notice of Chulon's incredible battlefield prowess. They showed favor by thrusting him relentlessly into more and more battles. It was primitive, but it served their needs, and he was willing to do what was necessary to work his way into their confidence. He felt comforted in his actions when he reminded himself that all who fell before him on the field of battle were ultimately members of the clans of Vechtazul. Anyone he killed would be one less marauder to harass the northern border of the Ortakij kingdom.
He continued for several months in this way within the tribe of Lom, helping their interests and ensuring they succeeded in all their warlord set his mind to. With the trained expertise of a Laethecna at their back, Lom made new headway against the tribe of Gulala. Chulon had hoped to see them unleash a demon or get some sense of where such attacks stemmed from, but his own prowess seemed to supersede any need the tribe might have for such assistance. This bothered Chulon until he made up his mind to move on from the tribe of Lom and pursue a relationship with one of the tribes further to the north, perhaps one of the eight tribes of Kier-Ree-Tan, which were the most unknown to the soldiers of the Ortakij. Perhaps it was time for some added risk.
Before he could make this move, though, things changed drastically for Chulon.
No comments:
Post a Comment