SO: we all have a lot of time these days. Patrick Stuart of False Machine once did a review of E. R. Eddison's The Worm Ouroborous. And a decent podcast on the same topic with Tom Fitzgerald of Middenmurk.
After The Worm Ouroborous came The Zimiamvian Trilogy. The first of these is Mistress of Mistresses. This is nominally connected by a passing reference by a character to Zimiamvia as a land, somewhere else on the planet of Mercury. Further, there is a character called Lessingham who appears briefly at the beginning of Ouroborous; the prologue has Lessingham referred to upon earth (a narrator comes to his house after his death/disappearance and has a mystical experience). Then we go to Zimiamvia proper. And Lessingham is there also, but makes no reference to his life on Earth. A little like the framing device in A Princess of Mars, perhaps.
Of course, it shares other similarities with Ouroborous. There is a war of aristocrats, with Renaissance mannerism. There are the long lists, detailing the dress of the main characters. The vast gemstone-studded palaces re-appear. The prose isn't perhaps quite as Jacobean as Ouroborous, but that element of it is there. Here's Brandoch Daha being described in Ouroborous:
"His gait was delicate, as of some lithe beast of prey newly awakened out of slumber, and he greeted with lazy grace the many friends who hailed his entrance. Very tall was that lord, and slender of build, like a girl. His tunic was of silk coloured like the wild rose, and embroidered in gold with representations of flowers and thunderbolts. Jewels glittered on his left hand and on the golden bracelets of his arms, and on the fillet twined among the golden curls of his hair, set with plumes of the king-bird of Paradise. His horns were dyed with saffron, and inlaid with filigree work of gold, His buskins were laced with gold, and from his belt hung a sword, narrow of blade and keen, the hilt rough with beryls and black diamonds. Strangely light and delicate was his frame and seeming, yet with a sense of slumbering power beneath, as the delicate peak of a snow mountain seen afar in the low red rays of morning. His face was beautiful to look on and softly coloured like a girls face, and his expression one of gentle melancholy, mixed with some distain; but fiery glints awoke at intervals in his eyes, and the lines of swift determination hovered round the mouth below his curled moustachios."
Here's Barganax, Duke of Zayana being described in Mistress.
"His kirtle was of corded silk, rose-coloured, slashed with velvet of a darker hue, and gathered about the waist with a belt of sea-horse hide lapped at the edge with thread of gold and bossed with balas rubies and cat's-eye chyrsoberyls; he had thick-woven silken hose of the like rose colour, and a long grey cloak of dark grey brocaded silk lined with cloth of silver; the collar of the cloak was of black cormorants' feathers cunningly sewn and fitted to make an even smoothness, cross-striped at every span by lines of rubies and fastened with golden clasps. Yet all this was but shadows in water beside the man himself. For, alike in his wide tall frame and in his carraiage noble and debonair and of a cat-like elegance this Duke was beautiful to look upon beyond the example of men; his skin marvellous fair and smooth, his hair the colour of burnished copper, short and curly, his nose clean cut and straight, his brow wide, his eyebrows sleek and thick and with a scarcely to be seen upward slant, that cast a quality of somewhat pensive and of somewhat faun-like across his face; his shaven chin delicate but strong, his mouth a little large, firm-lipped under daintily upcurled moustachios, sensitive , apt for sudden modulations of mood and passion; his eyes brown, contemplative, and with profound obscurities of pulsing fire."
Here's a specimen of the dialogue, that does something similar to Ouroborous, though perhaps a little less formal.
" 'Imprimis' said the Duke 'whose turn should it serve to yerk me one under the fifth rib? Not old Jeronimy's, not theirs that stand with him: it should raise a cloud of wasps about their ears should in three days time sweep 'em out of Meszria. Not yet our discontented lords: they for action, and that were a strange road, to murder me: by my soul, they can look to none other to lead 'em. The King's? True, there's some coldness betwixt us, but I'll not suspect him of things myself would not soil my hands withal. But indeed I do know all these men. Pew! I am not to begin Duke.' "
Interestingly, when a letter or text appears in Mistress, it reads somewhat like as follows:
" 'As touching my sayde kingdom of Mezria, save and exept the sayde apponage of Zayjana as heerin befoare prouided, I do point my wel beloued faythfull sarvante the Lord Hy Amerall IERONIMY to re-will all the londe as Regent therof during my sed Systers minorite and thereafter as Shee shall of Hir roiall wylle and pleasure determine of. And who some ere shall neglect contempne or syde any dyspousicion of this My Testment, lat his life haue an erly a suddant and an euill endingeand lat the Angre of the Goddes rest vpon him. Giuen under my roial seall and under myne hande in my pauylyoun bisyde Hornmeere in Rerec this fourt day of Aprelle in the yeere of my raighne I.' "
Aside from the antique orthography, it strikes me as odd that I don't see the difference between narration and in-universe spelling more - aside from jokes about a character's bad spelling, or text speak. 'Rerec' above is a constituent part of Zimiamvia - spelt as Rerek everywhere else.
The plot
As the above will may suggest, the plot starts with the land of Zimiamvia: three lands - Fingiswold, Rerek and Mezria - united into one body by Mezentius. He has died, leaving his young son Styllis on the throne. He promptly dies off-screen and civil war (of a brief and sporadic type) ensues. Styllis's sister Queen Antiope takes over, with a regency until she comes of age at 21.
[It occurs to me that we don't get many civil war stories in speculative fiction that make the participants look similar, despite the fact that they are from the same polity, (presumably) have the same customs, &c. I'm tempted to blame Star Wars for this, but this may be due to visual media more generally and besides, stereotypes of Cavaliers and Roundheads are a deal older. All the same, remember that it took a while for the New Model Army to be brought together and uniformed, and that not everyone belongs to a particular subculture even if they are on that subculture's side.
Either way, one doesn't get a sense of the different sides having looking dramatically dissimilar in Mistress.]
It's rather Shakespearean in this sense, or like something on the stage. We enter the action a little late, and we don't get to see some of the inciting incidents; the leading lady is shipwrecked on the shores of Illyria or Otello arrives in Cyprus (as in the opera by Verdi).
The major players in this war are Barganax, the Duke of Zayana (bastard son of Mezentius) and Horius Parry, Lord of Lamiak and Vicar of Rerek.
[Vicar is used in the sense of deputy; when the Pope is referred to as the Vicar of Christ it is not because he is meant to be Jesus's parish priest.]
Barganax is a sort of stereotype of an artist - devoting himself to long projects, burning finished canvases depicting his muse, the Lady Fiorinda because they aren't good enough. But he is still an aristocrat with all the pride of his station and a keen duellist. In all this, he certainly resembles the protagonists of Ouroborous.
Parry - often known as the Vicar - is lively and fierce, a burly fellow. He has a character rather like Macbeth - his main redeeming feature being his ferocity in war and his resolve. Fierce, red-bearded and vigorous, we first meet him at his home where he is washing a pack of vicious dogs; he appears to be the only one who can control them. Now, this is might look fine when in a redbrick Tudor courtyard but this is an Eddison book, and so everything is covered in gemstones the size of porpoises. So there is this disconnect between the courtly customs of Zimiamvia and the oversized and thuggish but astute Vicar.
***
The Vicar of Rerek and his dogs
"Busy-tailed prick-eared heavy-chested long-fanged slaver-mouthed beasts were they all, a dozen or more, some red, some black, some yellow, as big as wolves and most wolfish to look upon. Each as his turn came the Vicar seized by the scruff of the neck and by the loose skin about the haunches and, lifting it as it had been a kitten, set it in the bath. He was a huge, heavy, ugly man, nigh, about fifty years of age, not as tall besides tall men, but great-thewed and broad of chest and shoulder, his neck as thick as a common's man thigh, his skin fair and full of freckons, his hair fiery red, stiff like wires and growing far down on his neck behind; he wore it trimmed short, and it has this quality that it stood upright on his head like a savage dog's if he was angry. His ears were strangely small and fine shaped, but set low; his jaw great and wide; his mouth wide with pale thin lips; his nose jutting forth with mighty side-pitched nostrils, and high and spreading in the wings; his forehead high-domed, smooth and broad, and with a kind of noble serenity that sorted oddly with the ruffianly lines of his nose and jaw; his beard and moustachios close-trimmed and bristly; his eyebrows sparse, his eyelids heavy, not deep set. He had delicate lively hazel eyes, like the eyes of an adder."
I shall also mention that one of his dogs is called Pyewacket.
The banner of Lamiak and hence the Vicar is a black owl with red talons and beak on gold. His motto is Noctus noxiis noceo - Nightly I pray upon vermin.
***
Back to the plot. In the midst of these tension, Lessingham, cousin of the Vicar, rises high in the ranks of the nobility and seeks to make a lasting peace, whilst pursuing love. This is not a world of constant battle; there is room for philosophy lessons, hunting, courtly entertainments and love-affairs in jewelled pavilions during mystic nights. Said love affairs have a terrifying quality; however wonderful or voluptuous they may be, the participants seem to be drawn into wider archetypes of he-lover and she-lover. There is a loss of personality, not just into a wider divine archetype, but into other lovers as well. Beyond everything, there is the seemingly unshakable Lady Fiorinda, lover of Barganax, who seems to tap into an eternal well of the feminine and mystical.
Zimiamvia
Unlike, say the British Isles in the mid-seventeenth century, we get no especial sense that these are different nations with different customs. There appears to be no overall government - just a personal union, as Stuart England and Scotland before the Act of Union.
There are frequent references to European culture and religion - philosophers like Apollonius, Classical myth, the Iliad, the Eddas, Christian festivals like Michaelmas and religious figures such as God the Father and Satan, quotes in French, Latin or Greek. Sappho, Homer, Shakespeare and Webster, among others, are quoted. The Gods are invoked more often than any given God.
Renaissance as all of this sounds, there is no gunpowder; arms and armour seem quite medieval. Months are as the Gregorian Calendar, but years are dated from the foundation of the city of Zayana; Mistress takes place in anno Zayanae conditiae 777.
A few notes on place names: the first syllable in Rerek is accented like Year, and the third syllable in Zimiamiva is accented; the I's are short. The names are taken from a variety of sources, as we are told in a brief afterword. 'Fiorinda is in origin Italian, Amaury and Beroald French; Antiope, Zenianthe and many others Greek'. There's to my ear a likeness to C.S. Lewis's Telmarine Names. Eddison was a peripheral member of the Inklings, and my Gollancz Fantasy Masterworks editions of Ouroborous and Mistress quote him on the back cover. I may do a list of names elsewhere.
Of course, all this is perhaps explained by the Prologue, in which speaks thus:
"...the fabled land of ZIMIAMVIA. Is it true, will you think, which poets tell us of that fortunate land: that no mortal foot may tread it, but the blessed souls do inhabit it of the dead that be departed; of them that were great upon earth and did great deeds when they were living, that scorned not earth and the delights and glories of earth and yet did justly and were not dastards nor yet oppressors?"
So people in the Prologue, apparently in the real world, know of Zimiamvia, and consider it a form of afterlife. Wicked and Worldly = Hell, Wicked and Unworldly = Hell (?), Good and Unworldly = Heaven, Good and Worldly = Zimiamvia?
I suppose an apt point of reference here is HP Lovecraft's Dreamlands. Fantastical, yet accessible to the poets and visionaries.
This perhaps explains the relative morality of the characters in Mistress. There is no-one quite as hateful as some of the Witchlanders in Ouroborous; whilst Lessingham is perhaps the most sympathetic or least flawed, no-one seems outright villainous or tyrannous. The Vicar of Rerek is commanding and moody, but has not the qualities of Caligula or (the literary) Richard III. One wonders what sort of men became the spear-carriers and bit parts in Mistress.
Also, nobody seems to act as if they are in the afterlife. So, have they all drunk of Lethe or is it a vast game? If so, it's a game they take seriously.
Conclusion, of a sort
If Ouroborous was Eddison revisiting childhood stories, what is Mistress, which sits in so similar a fashion? A chance to go back, perhaps, once the need to tell one type of story is done. A slower, less epic story. Lessingham's glory in peacemaking may be seen in comparison to the finale (if it can be called a finale) of Ouroborous. The spirit is sometimes more limpid, though I doubt anyone who read Ouroborous and enjoyed it necessarily wants a limpid version of it. Nevertheless, I stuck with it to the end, and enjoyed it, Hymns to Aphrodite and all.
Sunday, 26 April 2020
Tuesday, 21 April 2020
Punth: A Primer Ch. 5
Punth! At susnet, gaze across the irrigation ditches, out into the wilderness, where a great Prince impales a lion on a ten cubit spear!
(A new reader may wish to refer back to earlier articles).
Arms and the Qryth
As previously established, the military of Punth is split into two: the (human) Gendarme, nominally a territorial force with a law enforcement role and the Qryth themselves. The Qryth are meant as frontline soldiers and shock troops, there being nothing like a four-armed green giant to hold the line when needed. In practice however, Gendarmes may find themselves in the thick of a melee or as part of an expeditionary force.
An armed, trained Qryth is not quite the equal of a mounted knight in plate armour. They are slower than a charging horse, if faster than a human, and if hardy, not near as hardy as steel. And of course, a lone Qryth is far more at home on the sands of Punth than any chevalier and generally requires less of a baggage train. The Qryth in melee favour two-handed blades or tall shields and spears. The crossbow has resonance as a traditional weapon. A Qryth can carry and shoot a heavy crossbow with ease, and marksmanship is prized; thus a Qryth ambush is a terrifying thing. (This leaves aside their more ancient and exotic weapons).
A Qryth fighter would be known in their own tongue by certain high and ancient names (Astronaut, Espatier, Star Commander, &c.). Vertebraean usage tends to refer to a Qryth Knight, Commander, Marshall, &c.
While Punthite tactics might be outlined by portions of the Codes, fighters of one kind or the other have phrases that communicate tactics or commands rapidly.
Advancing: Forge ahead courageously, following the Sky Princes!
Retreating: If victory does not come today, it shall come tomorrow!
Engaging as a group: As one we shall meet the foe!
Engaging as an individual: By each of our efforts, we conquer the malicious!
Attack a certain target or point: Ignorance of correct teaching reveals flaws to be exploited!
Defend a certain target or point: Might is demanded at this spot.
Attack along a broad front: Correct teaching demands broad action!
Defend along a broad front: At the walls, the dutiful will stand.
Prioritise missile combat: The arm of the people is both long and swift!
Prioritise melee combat: The might of the soldier in the sword!
In days that are no more, sorcerers had the keeping of the people. Let those days come no more!
As the title suggests, the Punthite feeling towards magic users is far from positive. They are kept carefully guarded by special detachments of the Gendarmes. Because magic requires a language (spoken or otherwise) that alters the universe, they must learn odds and ends of languages beyond the Codes - the Codes not having any resonance with the energies of Vertebraean creation.
All this makes magic-users doubly untrustworthy. By custom they are kept chained - either literally restrained, or ritually adorned with chains that do not hamper movement but still indicate their status. Their faces are painted each day with horizontal stripes. An unpainted mage is either an escapee convict or a special forces operative - and much more likely the former than the latter.
Sorcerers that use their powers for the state are trained to communicate their actions for their handlers. A phrase roughly matches the school of a spell from the 52 Pages.
Energy: After catastrophe, we shall triumph!
Creation: From the Sky-Princes comes all plenty!
Change: That used for the state will be changed for the state.
Planar: From the beyond came the Sky Princes, ever benevolent.
Knowledge: In the Codes resides the key to all knowledge!
Illusion: The insolent and foolish see not our might.
Mental: A mind is honed by the Codes as a blade on a stone.
Restoration: If a man has fallen in the dust, let his neighbour bend to him.
Abjuration: Bend before the Sky-Princes, who blend might and wisdom!
Nature: Let all things bend to the state's will.
[This applies to clerical magic as well. ]
***
Gendarme Detachments
1. A civic patrol of five gendarmes, with truncheons, lathis and dirks.
2. A rural patrol of three mounted gendarmes, with lances and bows. Mounted infantry, not horse soldiers.
3. A detachment of guards for the work gangs. Seven gendarmes; three with whips and clubs; four with crossbows and short swords. They have a cart of their own with a canvas awning.
4. Judicial duties. A dozen gendarmes fill roles in the Ziggurat's judgement hall - door guards, wardens, ceremonial escorts, chasteners. Most carry a round shield and short sword. Each wear a sash with some relevant portion of the Codes written on it.
5. Border patrol. Eighteen gendarmes, with mounts and pack beasts. Most carry spears or bows. Their leader has a map of the area; his adjutant a detailed set of records.
6. Mercantile inspectors. Found in any of the regions that permit trade. Six gendarmes with truncheons or lathis; two armed scribes; three crossbowmen; one inspector.
7. Sorcerer's escort. One sorcerer (of relatively low ability). Three armoured gendarmes. Two gendarmes with padded truncheons, nets and long spears. One sorcerer's handler, with a short sword and extensive records. Four additional gendarmes; one securely built and boxy sedan chair.
8. Sky Prince's retinue. Four gendarme veterans with a variety of military weapons (broadswords, battle-axes, crossbows, medium armour, shields). Two armed scribes. Six additional gendarmes, with baggage animals. Oh, and somewhere there will be one of the Qryth.
9. Gendarme pioneers. A dozen gendarmes with spears, shields and crossbows. Two engineers. Six gendarmes with lathis and short swords to guard the work gangs. Two wagons carry tools and supplies.
10. Gendarme baggage train. Six wagons with draft animals; each wagon has a driver and guard - the guard with a crossbow. Eight outriders with lances and bows. Four other gendarmes with swords and shields.
(A new reader may wish to refer back to earlier articles).
Arms and the Qryth
As previously established, the military of Punth is split into two: the (human) Gendarme, nominally a territorial force with a law enforcement role and the Qryth themselves. The Qryth are meant as frontline soldiers and shock troops, there being nothing like a four-armed green giant to hold the line when needed. In practice however, Gendarmes may find themselves in the thick of a melee or as part of an expeditionary force.
An armed, trained Qryth is not quite the equal of a mounted knight in plate armour. They are slower than a charging horse, if faster than a human, and if hardy, not near as hardy as steel. And of course, a lone Qryth is far more at home on the sands of Punth than any chevalier and generally requires less of a baggage train. The Qryth in melee favour two-handed blades or tall shields and spears. The crossbow has resonance as a traditional weapon. A Qryth can carry and shoot a heavy crossbow with ease, and marksmanship is prized; thus a Qryth ambush is a terrifying thing. (This leaves aside their more ancient and exotic weapons).
A Qryth fighter would be known in their own tongue by certain high and ancient names (Astronaut, Espatier, Star Commander, &c.). Vertebraean usage tends to refer to a Qryth Knight, Commander, Marshall, &c.
While Punthite tactics might be outlined by portions of the Codes, fighters of one kind or the other have phrases that communicate tactics or commands rapidly.
Advancing: Forge ahead courageously, following the Sky Princes!
Retreating: If victory does not come today, it shall come tomorrow!
Engaging as a group: As one we shall meet the foe!
Engaging as an individual: By each of our efforts, we conquer the malicious!
Attack a certain target or point: Ignorance of correct teaching reveals flaws to be exploited!
Defend a certain target or point: Might is demanded at this spot.
Attack along a broad front: Correct teaching demands broad action!
Defend along a broad front: At the walls, the dutiful will stand.
Prioritise missile combat: The arm of the people is both long and swift!
Prioritise melee combat: The might of the soldier in the sword!
In days that are no more, sorcerers had the keeping of the people. Let those days come no more!
As the title suggests, the Punthite feeling towards magic users is far from positive. They are kept carefully guarded by special detachments of the Gendarmes. Because magic requires a language (spoken or otherwise) that alters the universe, they must learn odds and ends of languages beyond the Codes - the Codes not having any resonance with the energies of Vertebraean creation.
All this makes magic-users doubly untrustworthy. By custom they are kept chained - either literally restrained, or ritually adorned with chains that do not hamper movement but still indicate their status. Their faces are painted each day with horizontal stripes. An unpainted mage is either an escapee convict or a special forces operative - and much more likely the former than the latter.
Sorcerers that use their powers for the state are trained to communicate their actions for their handlers. A phrase roughly matches the school of a spell from the 52 Pages.
Energy: After catastrophe, we shall triumph!
Creation: From the Sky-Princes comes all plenty!
Change: That used for the state will be changed for the state.
Planar: From the beyond came the Sky Princes, ever benevolent.
Knowledge: In the Codes resides the key to all knowledge!
Illusion: The insolent and foolish see not our might.
Mental: A mind is honed by the Codes as a blade on a stone.
Restoration: If a man has fallen in the dust, let his neighbour bend to him.
Abjuration: Bend before the Sky-Princes, who blend might and wisdom!
Nature: Let all things bend to the state's will.
[This applies to clerical magic as well. ]
***
Gendarme Detachments
1. A civic patrol of five gendarmes, with truncheons, lathis and dirks.
2. A rural patrol of three mounted gendarmes, with lances and bows. Mounted infantry, not horse soldiers.
3. A detachment of guards for the work gangs. Seven gendarmes; three with whips and clubs; four with crossbows and short swords. They have a cart of their own with a canvas awning.
4. Judicial duties. A dozen gendarmes fill roles in the Ziggurat's judgement hall - door guards, wardens, ceremonial escorts, chasteners. Most carry a round shield and short sword. Each wear a sash with some relevant portion of the Codes written on it.
5. Border patrol. Eighteen gendarmes, with mounts and pack beasts. Most carry spears or bows. Their leader has a map of the area; his adjutant a detailed set of records.
6. Mercantile inspectors. Found in any of the regions that permit trade. Six gendarmes with truncheons or lathis; two armed scribes; three crossbowmen; one inspector.
7. Sorcerer's escort. One sorcerer (of relatively low ability). Three armoured gendarmes. Two gendarmes with padded truncheons, nets and long spears. One sorcerer's handler, with a short sword and extensive records. Four additional gendarmes; one securely built and boxy sedan chair.
8. Sky Prince's retinue. Four gendarme veterans with a variety of military weapons (broadswords, battle-axes, crossbows, medium armour, shields). Two armed scribes. Six additional gendarmes, with baggage animals. Oh, and somewhere there will be one of the Qryth.
9. Gendarme pioneers. A dozen gendarmes with spears, shields and crossbows. Two engineers. Six gendarmes with lathis and short swords to guard the work gangs. Two wagons carry tools and supplies.
10. Gendarme baggage train. Six wagons with draft animals; each wagon has a driver and guard - the guard with a crossbow. Eight outriders with lances and bows. Four other gendarmes with swords and shields.
Saturday, 18 April 2020
Punth: A Primer Ch. 4
Punth! The sun sets. Birds perch on the upper levels of the local ziggurat. Labourers fresh from the field at the communal dinner hear the rhythmic formulation of the Codes sung to the tune of the dulcimer and the tom-tom.
(A new reader may wish to refer back to earlier articles).
At the shops
As befits something very like a planned political economy, there is no formal currency used in Punth. The equivalent used by a local headman would be the 'day's labour', expressed in the phrase 'For those who work in the day, let shelter be prepared for them in the evening.'
Bed and board carries as part of its implication cost of fuel, cost of crockery, cost of blankets, and so forth. So the 'day's labour' amounts to the cost of a day's food and water plus the cost of a day's fuel plus various minuscule fractions of the cost of a house and household goods. Therefore, the Punthite labourer, even if his meals are taken communally and he lives in a state dormitory, is issued with discretionary resources (generally in the form of trade goods) to obtain things he might need.
Now, the choice of household goods is always going to be pretty limited. But having a Punthite hand over trade goods for household goods is a form of authentication that for instance, a new jug is required.
[The Codes actually list the required household goods. It's a little like a really boring domestic pastiche of Sei Shonagon's lists.]
A headman or scribe is given a slightly larger set of discretionary resources, because of their need to be ready for a number of activities - to interpret the Codes or to otherwise lead.
On top of these, a village or civic ward will have be expected to maintain a small surplus capacity to accommodate work gangs or gendarmes or visiting Qryth - as well as for other unforeseen issues. This will be in the control of a headman.
Therefore, a rural headman might deal with a visitor who can interpret the Codes like this:
Headman: All men should live in peace, from which comes plenty.
Visitor: Where there is labour, let there be comfort. Where there is thirst, let there be water. Where there is wind, let there be a shelter.
H: If the people are to be fed, work must be divided between them.
V: The blocked channel may be cleared.
[The Visitor brings out two iron axeheads]
H: May the fruits of the people stay with the people!
V: If a man has fallen in the dust, let his neighbour bend to him.
H:Who must rise first? The mighty.
[The Visitor brings out a handful of nails]
H: For those who work in the day, let shelter be prepared for them in the evening.
V: To the wise will come plenty.
Make no mistake; such trades are Black Market-equivalents. A headman or scribe will be unwilling to make them if there is a significant party of gendarmes in town, or an inspection or one of the Sky-Princes.
Looking further afield
Some trade does exist between Punth and other nations. This is facilitated by a class of scribes, usually only found in the cities, known as Procurators. They have a better notion of money as it is used in other lands and a loose familiarity with trading customs. Procurators will maintain a supply of specie or bullion with which to trade, as well as trade goods or issue plaques (small clay tablets giving the bearer permission to draw a certain set of resources from Punthite authorities).
Punth imports not only tools, iron and livestock but also a quantity of luxuries - dyes, precious metals, the like. These are often used to create monuments to the Codes or in maintaining Qryth households. It is half-known by the Qryth that gold is an effective conductor of electricity.
Antiquities from the time of the Sorcerer-King have been available cheaply in the past, with Punthite authorities knowing little and caring less about them - despite some having valuable scraps of archaic spellcraft.
The Procurators are known as being oddly straightforward dealers to the merchants outside Punth. The transactional cost of getting to Punth, negotiating the borders and learning enough of the Codes to get by is offset by the fact that trade is so often profitable. However, the Qryth loathe anyone else's scrutiny - and they may, if they deem it necessary seize your goods and your ship in time of emergency. Punth emergencies do not line up with what other nations may consider an emergency. Merchants are not known to linger in their ports, not that there is much that might appeal to a holiday-maker in them.
[I can't even claim to be even an amateur economist, and I'm glossing a little from Francis Spufford's Red Plenty - but this is the model for use in Punth. Limited supplies, few sellers, odd government interventions and motivations.]
(A new reader may wish to refer back to earlier articles).
At the shops
As befits something very like a planned political economy, there is no formal currency used in Punth. The equivalent used by a local headman would be the 'day's labour', expressed in the phrase 'For those who work in the day, let shelter be prepared for them in the evening.'
Bed and board carries as part of its implication cost of fuel, cost of crockery, cost of blankets, and so forth. So the 'day's labour' amounts to the cost of a day's food and water plus the cost of a day's fuel plus various minuscule fractions of the cost of a house and household goods. Therefore, the Punthite labourer, even if his meals are taken communally and he lives in a state dormitory, is issued with discretionary resources (generally in the form of trade goods) to obtain things he might need.
Now, the choice of household goods is always going to be pretty limited. But having a Punthite hand over trade goods for household goods is a form of authentication that for instance, a new jug is required.
[The Codes actually list the required household goods. It's a little like a really boring domestic pastiche of Sei Shonagon's lists.]
A headman or scribe is given a slightly larger set of discretionary resources, because of their need to be ready for a number of activities - to interpret the Codes or to otherwise lead.
On top of these, a village or civic ward will have be expected to maintain a small surplus capacity to accommodate work gangs or gendarmes or visiting Qryth - as well as for other unforeseen issues. This will be in the control of a headman.
Therefore, a rural headman might deal with a visitor who can interpret the Codes like this:
Headman: All men should live in peace, from which comes plenty.
Visitor: Where there is labour, let there be comfort. Where there is thirst, let there be water. Where there is wind, let there be a shelter.
H: If the people are to be fed, work must be divided between them.
V: The blocked channel may be cleared.
[The Visitor brings out two iron axeheads]
H: May the fruits of the people stay with the people!
V: If a man has fallen in the dust, let his neighbour bend to him.
H:Who must rise first? The mighty.
[The Visitor brings out a handful of nails]
H: For those who work in the day, let shelter be prepared for them in the evening.
V: To the wise will come plenty.
Make no mistake; such trades are Black Market-equivalents. A headman or scribe will be unwilling to make them if there is a significant party of gendarmes in town, or an inspection or one of the Sky-Princes.
Looking further afield
Some trade does exist between Punth and other nations. This is facilitated by a class of scribes, usually only found in the cities, known as Procurators. They have a better notion of money as it is used in other lands and a loose familiarity with trading customs. Procurators will maintain a supply of specie or bullion with which to trade, as well as trade goods or issue plaques (small clay tablets giving the bearer permission to draw a certain set of resources from Punthite authorities).
Punth imports not only tools, iron and livestock but also a quantity of luxuries - dyes, precious metals, the like. These are often used to create monuments to the Codes or in maintaining Qryth households. It is half-known by the Qryth that gold is an effective conductor of electricity.
Antiquities from the time of the Sorcerer-King have been available cheaply in the past, with Punthite authorities knowing little and caring less about them - despite some having valuable scraps of archaic spellcraft.
The Procurators are known as being oddly straightforward dealers to the merchants outside Punth. The transactional cost of getting to Punth, negotiating the borders and learning enough of the Codes to get by is offset by the fact that trade is so often profitable. However, the Qryth loathe anyone else's scrutiny - and they may, if they deem it necessary seize your goods and your ship in time of emergency. Punth emergencies do not line up with what other nations may consider an emergency. Merchants are not known to linger in their ports, not that there is much that might appeal to a holiday-maker in them.
[I can't even claim to be even an amateur economist, and I'm glossing a little from Francis Spufford's Red Plenty - but this is the model for use in Punth. Limited supplies, few sellers, odd government interventions and motivations.]
Sunday, 12 April 2020
More Unlikely Golems
Another bid to produced golems divorced from the elemental concept. These are inspired less by a distinction from Natural or Elemental ideas and more from a viewing of portions of the From Software video game Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. I saw portions of this and was captivated by the textured appearance of the exaggerated, semi-mythic Feudal Japan it depicts.
My knowledge of the Sengoku era of Japan isn't that detailed or well-grounded, but the courtyards and turrets of the castles, gardens, shrines and monasteries seem in some case more an arena with appropriate set dressing than a realistic depiction. All the same, the drifts of leaves or bristling straw coats were curiously evocative of a closeness to and use of nature (despite having castles, monasteries, gunpowder, massive swords, &c), which does evoke a certain image of Japan.
Anyway, without necessarily being Japanese in any direct sense, it is a 'material-that-shows-its-natural-origin' that is meant to define these golems.
Basket Golem
In appearance: a wicker man, but without the sacrificial offerings. The head is squarish and larger than human proportions. Three main openings into the hollow centre - one in the head and one at the base of each leg (above the 'ankle' at the front').
Capabilities and properties: Hollow, flexible, lightweight. Capable of carrying a great deal inside itself.
Intended purpose: generally found in the ownership of agricultural buyers, touring rural districts with the golem as a self-propelled grain silo. (A basket golem made for a grain buyer is tighter woven than one for a dealer in potatoes, for obvious reasons). Some golems, as a cost-saving measure, have a seat for travel built into them. This can be rickety and precarious.
Location of the words of power that give it motion and purpose: Suspended on a plaque from the rim of the square head.
Dead Leaf Golem
In appearance: a greater drift of dead leaves, linked by vermillion threads that glints gently. If it rears up, it looks a little like a flat Green Man.
Capabilities: An excellent broom of sorts, gently picking across a floor to remove loose detritus.
Intended purpose: Cleaning, if stepped on they crackle alarmingly and can alert people to your presence. (Pine Needle Golems, a very expensive variant can muffle sound instead).
The words of power: Sewed into the one green, living leaf in the drift.
Compost Golem
In appearance: Largely like a regular clay golem. But made of compost. A broad funnel replaces the head. One arm is not compost, but wood, with a trowel in the end of it.
Capabilities: It's a walking compost heap, fed through the funnel. That knows when to extract portions of itself and spread them as directed.
Intended purpose: Composting.
The words of power: Set in a slot in the upper part of the wooden trowel arm.
Tile Golem
In appearance: Like a man in a sandwich board. But the sandwich board is made of lots of little sandwich boards. And so is the man's head and arms. His face looks a bit like several dormer windows. His head is topped with an ornamental antefix.
Capabilities: The tile golem can angle itself in several different ways, even bending right over backwards to form a shallow roof.
Intended purpose: A walking shelter, capable of holding itself in place over something for quite a while. More robust tile golems are used to shift great quantities of loose earth or other materials, forming a sort of whole-body smart-scoop.
The words of power: generally just behind the antefix, to prevent damage.
Moss Golem
In appearance: A teddy bear, with only a gentle dome at the neck instead of a head.
Capabilities: They walk quietly, blend in very well into undergrowth and have a soft skin on top of a solid centre. A moss golem is incapable of rolling.
Intended purpose: Moss golems can lift delicate things without breaking them, and are prized by ceramicists or antique dealers for that reason. They are also remarkable as stealth troops or commandos - if one remembers that stealth is a relative term given their size and weight.
The words of power: Carved into the head dome. This is frequently done to give the impression of a distinct 'face' uncovered by moss.
(Bonus thematically different golem!)
Distiller's Golem
In appearance: A normal clay or wattle-and-daub golem - but with a smoking metal chimney, and a hollow centre accessible by doors in the chest.
Capabilities: It is a normal golem, but with an arrangement of boilers, pipes and alembics inside to distill alcoholic spirits. Some advanced models can control parts of the distilling process themselves.
Intended purpose: by the laws of the land, a household is permitted to distil a quarter of a firkin of alcoholic spirits for its own use. Travelling distillers use these golems to move between rural homes offering their services.
Of course, said travelling distillers are often judged guilty of breaching the law on home distilling. Thus, their golems are often carefully made to look like run of the mill country golems.
The vicious rumour that some distillers have fitted their golem with a spigot and lighter to function as an eau-de-vie fuelled flamethrower has absolutely no truth to it.
The words of power: In a tablet in the head, generally - and concealed. A distiller may well have had an enchanter discreetly change the base spell.
[This is more France than Appalachia.]
My knowledge of the Sengoku era of Japan isn't that detailed or well-grounded, but the courtyards and turrets of the castles, gardens, shrines and monasteries seem in some case more an arena with appropriate set dressing than a realistic depiction. All the same, the drifts of leaves or bristling straw coats were curiously evocative of a closeness to and use of nature (despite having castles, monasteries, gunpowder, massive swords, &c), which does evoke a certain image of Japan.
Anyway, without necessarily being Japanese in any direct sense, it is a 'material-that-shows-its-natural-origin' that is meant to define these golems.
Basket Golem
In appearance: a wicker man, but without the sacrificial offerings. The head is squarish and larger than human proportions. Three main openings into the hollow centre - one in the head and one at the base of each leg (above the 'ankle' at the front').
Capabilities and properties: Hollow, flexible, lightweight. Capable of carrying a great deal inside itself.
Intended purpose: generally found in the ownership of agricultural buyers, touring rural districts with the golem as a self-propelled grain silo. (A basket golem made for a grain buyer is tighter woven than one for a dealer in potatoes, for obvious reasons). Some golems, as a cost-saving measure, have a seat for travel built into them. This can be rickety and precarious.
Location of the words of power that give it motion and purpose: Suspended on a plaque from the rim of the square head.
Dead Leaf Golem
In appearance: a greater drift of dead leaves, linked by vermillion threads that glints gently. If it rears up, it looks a little like a flat Green Man.
Capabilities: An excellent broom of sorts, gently picking across a floor to remove loose detritus.
Intended purpose: Cleaning, if stepped on they crackle alarmingly and can alert people to your presence. (Pine Needle Golems, a very expensive variant can muffle sound instead).
The words of power: Sewed into the one green, living leaf in the drift.
Compost Golem
In appearance: Largely like a regular clay golem. But made of compost. A broad funnel replaces the head. One arm is not compost, but wood, with a trowel in the end of it.
Capabilities: It's a walking compost heap, fed through the funnel. That knows when to extract portions of itself and spread them as directed.
Intended purpose: Composting.
The words of power: Set in a slot in the upper part of the wooden trowel arm.
Tile Golem
In appearance: Like a man in a sandwich board. But the sandwich board is made of lots of little sandwich boards. And so is the man's head and arms. His face looks a bit like several dormer windows. His head is topped with an ornamental antefix.
Capabilities: The tile golem can angle itself in several different ways, even bending right over backwards to form a shallow roof.
Intended purpose: A walking shelter, capable of holding itself in place over something for quite a while. More robust tile golems are used to shift great quantities of loose earth or other materials, forming a sort of whole-body smart-scoop.
The words of power: generally just behind the antefix, to prevent damage.
Moss Golem
In appearance: A teddy bear, with only a gentle dome at the neck instead of a head.
Capabilities: They walk quietly, blend in very well into undergrowth and have a soft skin on top of a solid centre. A moss golem is incapable of rolling.
Intended purpose: Moss golems can lift delicate things without breaking them, and are prized by ceramicists or antique dealers for that reason. They are also remarkable as stealth troops or commandos - if one remembers that stealth is a relative term given their size and weight.
The words of power: Carved into the head dome. This is frequently done to give the impression of a distinct 'face' uncovered by moss.
(Bonus thematically different golem!)
Distiller's Golem
In appearance: A normal clay or wattle-and-daub golem - but with a smoking metal chimney, and a hollow centre accessible by doors in the chest.
Capabilities: It is a normal golem, but with an arrangement of boilers, pipes and alembics inside to distill alcoholic spirits. Some advanced models can control parts of the distilling process themselves.
Intended purpose: by the laws of the land, a household is permitted to distil a quarter of a firkin of alcoholic spirits for its own use. Travelling distillers use these golems to move between rural homes offering their services.
Of course, said travelling distillers are often judged guilty of breaching the law on home distilling. Thus, their golems are often carefully made to look like run of the mill country golems.
The vicious rumour that some distillers have fitted their golem with a spigot and lighter to function as an eau-de-vie fuelled flamethrower has absolutely no truth to it.
The words of power: In a tablet in the head, generally - and concealed. A distiller may well have had an enchanter discreetly change the base spell.
[This is more France than Appalachia.]
Saturday, 4 April 2020
Exotic Breads
Bread, be it from wheat, barley, sorghum, millet or rye is a major staple. Short of a setting creating a whole new set of foodstuffs, a variety of breads should be available. Some of them might even be capable of something more than satisfying hunger.
1. The Brethren of the Lordly Prophet distribute alms-bread. These loaves have a portion of food baked into them, taken from the various offerings left at their monastery. Institutional catering and the vagaries of chance mean that this may not be always to the recipient's liking. (Roll 1d6; 1 = 'I really can't eat that!', 2-4 = Edible, 5 = Edible and fairly nice, 6 = 'Oh good! My favourite!' OR Find a low denomination coin in the bread.)
2. Mosstrooper's Bannocks. The Clayscrape Valleys are a notoriously rainy region. The local irregular troopers and reavers bake bannocks in the ashes of their fires, and have developed a method of banking them with a hard crust that keeps out the damp. One comic tale of a folk hero has him baking a particularly large bannock to float across a river, but such a feat is clearly implausible.
3. Whatever their reputation, the Forest Elves are not good bakers. An elf can learn to bake, but the elves of the deep forest are not agriculturists. The most conservative of them will not even eat mono-cultured grains. However, they see the need for a compact form of carbohydrate to feed their emissaries or warbands that leave the forests to find out what it is the younger folk are doing and tell them to stop it. Thus, they carry bags of 'Trail Powder'. This is a ground-down mix of starches and roots, which is mixed together with fresh edible leaves and a little water to form something like Bubble and Squeak - but with the texture of meringue.
4. Concord Loaves are provided at a reduced price by the cooperatives of the Popular Harmony League. These loaves are deliberately larger than is needed for the average human appetite, and the bread is of a soft sort that must be eaten promptly - therefore, the bread must be shared, or go to waste. The rumour that the League includes trace elements of a pacifying, relaxing narcotic in the bread has not effected the popularity of these loaves.
5. These flatbreads from the Sun River Kingdoms are easy to make, compact and tasty. However, traditionally they are used for pushing and scooping other foodstuffs and are generally consumed only by the greediest or the poorest; consuming them can leave create a very bad social impression.
6. Inferno Rolls are dense, with red-brown crusts and a sweet, slightly treacly taste. They have been baked over a ceaseless, fuel-less, blaze of hell-fire, but this has no especial impact on the rolls themselves - beyond a scent of sulphur on the breath of those who consume them. (Mock-Inferno Rolls, designed to reproduce the taste without the lingering scent are sold at triple the price for gastronomes.) Despite this, they remain popular and no long term ill-effects have been found in those who eat the rolls. It is quite another story for the bakers who must inhale the smoke and soot of hellfire and who sometimes exhibit an extreme piety.
7. Dwarf tuber bread is bulked out with root vegetables of various kinds, due to the limited arable land in the mountain realms. It is frequently baked with beer and is almost terrifyingly stodgy to anyone not a dwarf. Tuber bread keeps remarkably well, so long as it remains unexposed to sunlight.
8. Angel biscuits (not to be confused with Angel Wafers, which are a popular brand of sweetmeat printed with brief and often trite religious messages) are made with a mix of oatmeal derived from a miraculous growth of wild oats to a prophet in the wilderness and water from the sacred spring of a pious hermit. They are do not taste 'heavenly' as such, but eating one is generally sufficient. You have somehow eaten no more and no less food than you actually need. The feeling of fullness without being overstuffed is curious and sometimes disturbing. However, what is perhaps more remarkable is that the eater generally comes away with a strong sense of purpose and mission, as if they have just had a serious chat with Aslan.
9. It is generally accepted that one cannot stop fauns and satyrs from drinking to excess, even when such a thing would be very useful. The fauns of the Bear Coast groves, however, bake a spongey pancake using milk and various ground herbs. This slowly releases nourishing and analgesic properties that will blunt all but the worst hangovers, though it is time consuming to prepare and relatively expensive.
10. The Half-Giants of the Kuthan Highlands raise Cyclopian goats - goats standing as high as a horse, with one large eye in the centre of their foreheads and three horns. The marrow of these goats is mixed with cornmeal and baked into unleavened rounds. The resulting bread is edible for humans, but when moistened with a little vinegar, forms an excellent bait for many of the great cats of the highlands.
1. The Brethren of the Lordly Prophet distribute alms-bread. These loaves have a portion of food baked into them, taken from the various offerings left at their monastery. Institutional catering and the vagaries of chance mean that this may not be always to the recipient's liking. (Roll 1d6; 1 = 'I really can't eat that!', 2-4 = Edible, 5 = Edible and fairly nice, 6 = 'Oh good! My favourite!' OR Find a low denomination coin in the bread.)
2. Mosstrooper's Bannocks. The Clayscrape Valleys are a notoriously rainy region. The local irregular troopers and reavers bake bannocks in the ashes of their fires, and have developed a method of banking them with a hard crust that keeps out the damp. One comic tale of a folk hero has him baking a particularly large bannock to float across a river, but such a feat is clearly implausible.
3. Whatever their reputation, the Forest Elves are not good bakers. An elf can learn to bake, but the elves of the deep forest are not agriculturists. The most conservative of them will not even eat mono-cultured grains. However, they see the need for a compact form of carbohydrate to feed their emissaries or warbands that leave the forests to find out what it is the younger folk are doing and tell them to stop it. Thus, they carry bags of 'Trail Powder'. This is a ground-down mix of starches and roots, which is mixed together with fresh edible leaves and a little water to form something like Bubble and Squeak - but with the texture of meringue.
4. Concord Loaves are provided at a reduced price by the cooperatives of the Popular Harmony League. These loaves are deliberately larger than is needed for the average human appetite, and the bread is of a soft sort that must be eaten promptly - therefore, the bread must be shared, or go to waste. The rumour that the League includes trace elements of a pacifying, relaxing narcotic in the bread has not effected the popularity of these loaves.
5. These flatbreads from the Sun River Kingdoms are easy to make, compact and tasty. However, traditionally they are used for pushing and scooping other foodstuffs and are generally consumed only by the greediest or the poorest; consuming them can leave create a very bad social impression.
6. Inferno Rolls are dense, with red-brown crusts and a sweet, slightly treacly taste. They have been baked over a ceaseless, fuel-less, blaze of hell-fire, but this has no especial impact on the rolls themselves - beyond a scent of sulphur on the breath of those who consume them. (Mock-Inferno Rolls, designed to reproduce the taste without the lingering scent are sold at triple the price for gastronomes.) Despite this, they remain popular and no long term ill-effects have been found in those who eat the rolls. It is quite another story for the bakers who must inhale the smoke and soot of hellfire and who sometimes exhibit an extreme piety.
7. Dwarf tuber bread is bulked out with root vegetables of various kinds, due to the limited arable land in the mountain realms. It is frequently baked with beer and is almost terrifyingly stodgy to anyone not a dwarf. Tuber bread keeps remarkably well, so long as it remains unexposed to sunlight.
8. Angel biscuits (not to be confused with Angel Wafers, which are a popular brand of sweetmeat printed with brief and often trite religious messages) are made with a mix of oatmeal derived from a miraculous growth of wild oats to a prophet in the wilderness and water from the sacred spring of a pious hermit. They are do not taste 'heavenly' as such, but eating one is generally sufficient. You have somehow eaten no more and no less food than you actually need. The feeling of fullness without being overstuffed is curious and sometimes disturbing. However, what is perhaps more remarkable is that the eater generally comes away with a strong sense of purpose and mission, as if they have just had a serious chat with Aslan.
9. It is generally accepted that one cannot stop fauns and satyrs from drinking to excess, even when such a thing would be very useful. The fauns of the Bear Coast groves, however, bake a spongey pancake using milk and various ground herbs. This slowly releases nourishing and analgesic properties that will blunt all but the worst hangovers, though it is time consuming to prepare and relatively expensive.
10. The Half-Giants of the Kuthan Highlands raise Cyclopian goats - goats standing as high as a horse, with one large eye in the centre of their foreheads and three horns. The marrow of these goats is mixed with cornmeal and baked into unleavened rounds. The resulting bread is edible for humans, but when moistened with a little vinegar, forms an excellent bait for many of the great cats of the highlands.
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