"Good heavens! Is that a fire-armament? I've never seen one up close before. How does it work?"
"Yes indeed - you've a sharp eye and a keen mind. Alleria gives her new audience an encouraging smile, then turns the gun over and grabs it by the handle to demonstrate the grip. It's simple, really - the gun works by helping to shape and control a small explosion inside. You load the barrel with a small piece of metal and a bit of black powder, an alchemical mixture. It can sit loaded that way as long as you need it to.
"Then, when you need to shoot, you just pull this lever - She gingerly demonstrates with her index finger, careful to not depress the trigger. - and a steel wheel rubs against a flint inside, creating a spark. That spark lights the powder, which burns extremely quickly and lets off gas and heat. You start to get pressure building up behind the bullet, and it's only got one way to go - straight out, carrying the bullet with it.
Now, don't be fooled - it's making the black powder that's the tricky bit. Devilishly tricky, and disastrous if you get it wrong, or at least it was for my eyebrows." She twirls the gun around her finger and puts it back into its holster at her hip with a wink. "Fortunately, I've got a bit of practice up my sleeve - enough to make one of these fine weapons for all takers, if your gold's good." Her eyes stray to Gallio again, hoping the demonstration's swayed him.
"It's rather like a spell, isn't it?" Min replied, watching the demonstration with avid curiosity. "I mean -- I don't know if you're familiar with the arcane process, but it's rather like that. A wizard studies a spell and it can stay ready in her mind until she's ready to cast it, just like you can put your metal and your powder in the barrel and pull the lever at a later time. One of my professors described fire-armaments as a combination between evocation and alchemy, but I had no idea the comparison was so valid. Are there different types of metal and powder depending on the effect you intend to create?"
"Yeah - I can see where you're coming from. Only, black powder tends to be a little more...visceral about it." Alleria smiled, clearly not displeased with the raw nature of black powder weaponry. "I do have a tiny bit of magical skill - I mean, I haven't studied or anything. I'm just able to fix things every so often, if I think about it hard enough. Some kind of...what's it called? Innate magic ability?
"Mostly, though, black powder's all the magic I need. And like you say, it's changeable depending on how you work with it. Different metals will target creatures that are hurt more by them; you can pack a cartridge with varying amounts to make a big flash, or mix in resin to create something like a tanglefoot bag if you've got the right style of gun.
And speaking of the right style of gun - my pistol here's good for using up close and reloads quick, a musket will let you shoot farther away, a blunderbuss'll shoot a bunch of pellets in a wide area..." The more Alleria talks, the less she sounds like a saleswoman and the more she sounds like a mix between a child excited over a toy and a scholar poring over a favorite topic of study. Clearly, guns aren't just a job for Alleria.
Akosua watched the lion's behaviour for a long moment before she looked back to Marcallon, "Akosua. I can, but I would like to speak with your Lion tomorrow."
She hummed extended her palm and delivered a stinging slap to his ankle, a little correction, he need not know is wholly unecessary just before she called upon the power of her goddess and sent forth the mingling scents of natures fresh bounty to wash over them. The healing energies soothed away Marc's bruises and pains leaving the pleasant feel of limbs newly stretched after a perfect nights sleep.
"You may go away now Marcallon Lynch, she added, making a shooing motion before she turned back to her grinding, if I add some ground fish bones applying it will feel like sanding your own wounds. A good lesson for anyone who stares at my bottom or bosom.
I'm recapping now and I saw this and wanted to make it clear that you do NOT have to participate in every conversation, especially since there's six of you.
As long as you post at least once per day, I'm more than happy. Of course, I have never told anyone to curb/tone down their posting so have at it if you have time ad interest.
Questions?
Game on!
Another excellent turn; I think you understood this 'tagging' business perfectly. :)
Turn 002 is up.
Read the OOC.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Game on!
OK, I made the edit because I could edit my own post. Otherwise the post goes unedited but don't worry because we're not after perfection, just a great interactive story.
Questions?
Game on!
Akosua headed down to her hammock taking the Captain at his word, and with great care used her leather straps to reinforce the connections of her hammock. She then sewed each of her possessions tightly to the the hammock hoping to stabilize it as much as possible. Finally to ride out the storm she climbed into her hammock and placed her chewing stick between her teeth, having always found it helped in lurching seas, and that it prevented her biting her tongue upon a sudden jolt.
Upon hearing the Noble buffoon sending his men above in the storm Akosua angrily shoots up in size and declares, "I am a Priestess of she who rules the Winds, Waves, and Plants. For every one of your men who is harmed I shall petition my goddess to grant you five years of blighted harvest. The King of the Withered Papaya has the sound of a euphemism does it not?"
Upon hearing the Noble buffoon sending his men above in the storm Akosua angrily shoots up in size and declares, "I am a Priestess of she who rules the Winds, Waves, and Plants. For every one of your men who is harmed I shall petition my goddess to grant you five years of blighted harvest. The King of the Withered Papaya has the sound of a euphemism does it not?"
Gallio visibly cowered at the healer's increased bulk, "But ma'am, the equipment could be thrown overboard and it's very hard to replace equipment whereas..."
He left the last statement unsaid, "Please, you must understand; my father would kill me if I lost all his equipment. They...are staying but so will I then."
tag?
@Marc: we need to figure out what to do with Bandar and the lion. We already have six people that must come together and we don't need to make it more complicated. So figure out a way to send them 'off stage'.
@everyone: we still have the issue of gelling this group together and I haven't heard many ideas so you'll have to play a long for while at least.
Thoughts?
Game on!
@everyone: we still have the issue of gelling this group together and I haven't heard many ideas so you'll have to play a long for while at least.
Thoughts?
Game on!
Akosua frowned at Gallio, "If you remain up there with your men then I trust you will have a proper care for safety, to a point. You may feel men are easily replaced, but a reputation is not. These men were not the fools who left "vital" equipment on deck, it should not be they who suffer for it. Ensure you do not take the sea lightly."
Action 1:
Zeljka wasn't an experienced sailor by any stretch but she had learned enough in her recent travels to know to listen to the ship's first mate. Making sure all of her few possessions were close at hand, she made her way to one of the hammocks and hunkered down.
During her time on Captain Dowling's ship, one of the crew had shared with her a few pressure points that could help with seasickness when massaged. As she laid in her hammock, she continuously pressed these areas in her wrists. She then kept her mind busy to distract herself from the pitching and lurching of the ship by watching the others down below.
Action 2:
Zeljka said a silent word of thanks to Sammy for having shown her how to prevent nausea while at sea. More than one good thing had come from her time aboard Dowling's ship and she was grateful.
Action 1
As several of the other passengers groaned at the news of the upcoming storm, Nsizi's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Do you mean to say that we've been sailing in calm seas?" The lean, dusky Bas'o hadn't left his hammock at all thus far, and the other passengers had learned to give his hammock a wide berth - he didn't always make it to the bucket.
Several others laughed at this, and the oracle flopped back on his hammock, skin ashen, and tried not to weep. He had never been on a ship before, and nothing could have prepared him for such terrible nausea. He vowed to be extra solicitous to any pregnant women he might meet in his future.
When they reached Port Freedom, he stumbled feebly to land, and unabashedly knelt on the sea-soaked earth and pressed his forehead to it. If his mission weren't so urgent, he would abandon it and stay here. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and limped to town. As other passengers strode past him, he asked, "Does anybody know of a cure for this sea-nausea, and where I might puchase it?"
Tag anybody walking by
Action 2
Nsizi heard some commotion, but was unable to care much about it. He spent the night trying not to vomit, and failing.
Akosua was, like most sailors mildly amused by sea sickness, but as she moved past Nsizi she advised,
"If the seas are calm get out on deck in the fresh air and watch the horizon. If they are rough find yourself something to bite down upon close your eyes and focus on it, humming a song may help also."
@everyone: we still have the issue of gelling this group together and I haven't heard many ideas so you'll have to play a long for while at least.
This is probably as good as it's going to get at the beginning so we'll go with this. You all want this community to do well (it represents your chance to do well) so any threats to it are taken personally.
Questions?
Game on!
Rough weather didn't frighten Alleria - she'd encountered more than her fair share of high seas aboard ships, and she had a fair idea of how to combat the stomach-churning turbulence. Carefully, she climbed down the ladder to the hammocks...but only long enough to grab her filled waterskin and a handful of hard biscuits from her pack, as well as a couple of pungent roots she'd picked up in a stall just off the docks in Port Freedom. Eat something. Really. Something bland, and some water. It sounds crazy, but having something in your gut means at least you aren't going to be nauseous from an empty stomach as well as from the rough water. And get to a window if you can - look at the horizon.
Taking her stash with her, she made her way across the cargo deck, finding a space between two stacks of crates that let her stand next to a tiny porthole window near the middle of the ship. Everywhere would be rocking like mad, but the center of the ship was what the entire ship would rotate around - it was better than the ends, which would jostle up and down with every tiny bump. Slicing off a piece of ginger, she began to suck on it, hoping the spicy root would help to calm the acid in her stomach.
[dice=Fortitude save with "sealegs", preparations]1d20+4+4+2[/dice]
But it didn't do much good. Despite all her preparations, Alleria was left retching, trying her hardest to keep the mess from seeping into the burlap sack behind her; whatever was inside wasn't likely to benefit from it. The boat was rocking so hard that she could barely keep her feet long enough to keep her eyes on the distant horizon, and the ginger tasted foul combined with the slurry of acid and biscuit launching itself forth. Apparently I've been away from ships too long, she muttered to herself sullenly, her last word muffled by a hand clapped over her mouth.
Akosua was, like most sailors mildly amused by sea sickness, but as she moved past Nsizi she advised,
"If the seas are calm get out on deck in the fresh air and watch the horizon. If they are rough find yourself something to bite down upon close your eyes and focus on it, humming a song may help also."
Nsizi would have rolled his eyes if he'd been feeling well enough. Calm seas, he muttered in disbelief. He had the distinct impression he was being laughed at.
Ginger, said a lovely half-elf dressed in red. She looked at Nsizi with a slight look of distaste, no doubt due to his foul odour. Chewing ginger will calm the stomach. Nsizi thanked her, and headed to the nearest merchant to find some of the root.
Action 3
As soon as he stepped of the longboat, Nsizi turned and waded into the sea. Every inch of him and his belongings were completely befouled, and he needed to wash away the smell of his sickness. Sinking up to his chest in the harbour water, he scrubbed his neswambi as best he could while wearing it. Taking a mouthful of the water, he choked in surprise at the saltiness of it. No wonder sailers are all crazy, surrounded by poison water all the time.
Wading back ashore, Nsizi found that his skin felt strangely sticky after the submersion, and his waterlogged clothes didn't smell much better than before. He had a sudden, strong wave of desire to be home, to be bathing in the clean, plains rivers, to feel the dry breeze on his skin.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts from it, he became aware of a commotion ahead.
He vaguely recognized the victim from the ship, but didn't understand what was happening. He moved closer to see what was going on.
@Marc: we need to figure out what to do with Bandar and the lion. We already have six people that must come together and we don't need to make it more complicated. So figure out a way to send them 'off stage'.
Not to worry. You allowed us to make up NPCs, so I figured I might as well throw Bandar in there as a device for Marc's story. Bandar has his own agenda, and will be leaving for the wilds on a "mission" from Shimye-Magalla together with his spirit guide companion. Whether Bandar's task is related to the plot of the story only time will tell, but should the worst happen, and Marc perishes in the jaws of the jungle, Bandar might provide an excellent alternative, without breaking narrative.
Marcallon had no first hand experience with storms at sea, but he had heard enough comparrisons between them and the thunderous jungle storms he was familiar with, to know that death was a much more likely occurence out here on the open blue, so when the first mate told him to take cover below, he obeyed immediately, pausing only to thank the half-orc and the crew for their hard work.
Below deck, Marc experienced for the first time one of the "restless nights at sea" he had heard talked about in the various taverns he had visited by the sea and rivers. Putting his restless energy to good use, at least, he secured his equipment as properly as he knew how: he rolled his sharp and delicate tools and equipment in his bedroll, and stuffed it into his bag. He then lashed the pack to a pole with his rope, preventing it from shuffling about in the ship's roiling and roling. Realizing this could work for him, too, he fashioned his rope and his waterskins into a cushioned harness, and lashed himself to the same pole with a tug-to-release knot, just in case. Thus secured, Marc felt confident he would, if not comfortably, survive the night.
After last night's rigors, the warm drizzle across his face, and the sultry smell of the jungle as they closed on shore, invigorated him. Back in his proper element, he felt sharp and alert once more, and heady with the prospects of this largely untouched mine of potential. Only one thing imposed on his peace of mind. In the chaos of unloading the ship, he thought he'd seen a pair of pristine tusks moving about. Of course such nonsense was impossible, but the fact of the matter was that he had apparently been badly traumatized by his latest misadventure, and that was truly frigthening.
He hoistened his pack as he stepped onto land while contemplating the depth of his trauma, when suddenly he became acutely aware of trouble brewing further ahead. He raised his pondering head just in time to see a local drunk knock the noble, the so called "Papaya King", on his ass. Marc gave a startled laugh at the comedic value of the scene, but then the drunk's words reached him, and Marc remembered that the noble was in fact Chelaxian, and thus, in a certain way, kin to himself.
"Oi! Who're you calling a filthy leech, there, you ol' tosspot?!" Marc called out as he started towards them. Unable to help himself, he clenched his fists, crushing the strap of his hoistened pack in anticipation of the coming fight. Which he was of course not going to start.
Seeing a man slug Little Lord Papaya did not displease Akosua, but she could not allow any more, it seemed unlikely the man had anything that amounted to a real justification although perhaps the Lordling has already purchased his land and ruffled some feathers?
"Who the hells do you think you are striking a man off the boat! Am I free to do the same? I have a trident opening the exciting possibility of skewering both your papaya and mangoes... Now back off!"
She called, finding it too hard to keep the amusement from her voice, making it impossible to sound really threatening as she strode forward.
@Marc: good plan for Bandar and his young lion.
@ALL: I intend to recap later today at which time I will resolve what's going on for 'Actions 3' so get these last posts in...
Questions?
Game on!
Sorry, today is my son's birthday, and I've been really busy with family and party stuff. I'll try to get something written before the recap.
Sorry, today is my son's birthday, and I've been really busy with family and party stuff. I'll try to get something written before the recap.
That's fine, I'll wait a little bit longer because I know Alleria also wanted to post so you all got an hour or so.
Questions?
game on!
No stranger to sea travel after her long voyages to Korvosa and back, Min twisted the ring on her finger to recall the cantrip known on campus as the Bender Mender. With an arcane prophylactic cushioning her system, she lay down in her hammock, closed her eyes tightly, and hoped to sleep through the worst of the storm.
Turn 003 is up.
Read the OOC.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Game on!
Min was so eager to see Pridon's Hearth, craning her neck to get a good look at the state of the new colony, that she barely registered the violence on the dock until it was well underway. I thought they were enlisting new colonists! Now the locals seem to be trying to tar and feather us and send us back out on the boat that brought us before we've even set foot on shore.
Isn't it too early to be this drunk already? Zeljka just wanted to start building her life again, not deal with a couple of drunkards. "I'm no leech! I'm here to work." Then she muttered under her breath, "Which is more than I can say about the two of you."
Yeah, I was a little confused with your posting. First you posted like you were walking towards the colony, then that you stepped on to the shore, and then that you took a bath. So I tried to arrange it so it made sense (to me at least).
If it ever matters, I'll go back and fix it. :)
Also, everyone try and remember to use quotes in your speech as the 'bold' sort of disappears when I cut and paste into the turn recap.
Questions?
Game on!
"No one's a real local here, it seems to me, except the monkeys - wait, is that what you guys are? Check it out, everyone: talking monkeys!" Keeping her voice nonchalant, Alleria pulled her pistol from its holster at her hip, setting her finger carefully on the trigger; she didn't want to shoot the first people she met in her new home...but if they forced the issue, she didn't have much choice, and that broken bottle looked an awful lot like forcing the issue. And she'd seen enough of the other passengers on the ship to know they were worth twice as much as these jerks; it wasn't a difficult choice to decide who to keep around. Although, maybe Mr. Papaya King...
Akosua scowled at the foolish men, ever posturing self centred sons of goats. Looking down at the Lordling she hissed,
"Go away Viscount of Mangoes, I would not start our time here with bloodshed if I can help it."
Then calling upon the power of her goddess, she chanted, "Mezenharioth tarthor Narlam Shim!" Levelling a finger at the man holding the broken bottle and calling forth fear to battle his alcohol induced bluster.
This done she readied her shield preparing to defend should her spell not prove sufficient to cow the locals.
As Nsizi neared the growing confrontation, he realized that the newcomer was drunk, and that the first man likely was as well.
Alarmed that the women from the ship seemed happy to respond with violence, Nsizi held up free hand in a peaceful gesture. Spirits guide me,, he whispered.
Out loud he said, "My new friends, please! Forgive my travelling companions. We have traveled a long way, and are weary. It is not our intention to take advantage of anybody. These good people are here to add to your lovely community, to bring business opportunities, perhaps even romance. Please, set your bottle down and let us discuss this misunderstanding."
As he walked and talked, he changed his grip on his iwisa, ready to change it from walking stick to weapon at a moment's notice.
Turn 004 is up.
Read the OOC.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Game on!
, fail
Akosua quirked a thick black eyebrow at the Sheriff, her ingrained Bloodcove prejudices towards lawmen fighting her approval of a woman in a position of power. She smiled warmly and dipped her head deferentially, sending the yellow papaya flowers tied into her long flowing hair swinging.
"A pleasure to meet you Adaela, Adaela, Adela - I will remember. I am Akosua a Priestess of The One Who Rules Wind and Wave. I have come seeking rumours of people perverting the worship of "Gozreh", with the intent of finding the truth and delivering judgement. Would you know anything of such a thing? It is possible they are the root of your troubles to a sickness of root may ail the whole tree; but also possible they are far beyond this place, my sources were... Unreliable."
"A pleasure to meet you Adaela, Adaela, Adela - I will remember. I am Akosua a Priestess of The One Who Rules Wind and Wave. I have come seeking rumours of people perverting the worship of "Gozreh", with the intent of finding the truth and delivering judgement. Would you know anything of such a thing? It is possible they are the root of your troubles to a sickness of root may ail the whole tree; but also possible they are far beyond this place, my sources were... Unreliable."
The sheriff extended her hand in a frank, open greeting, "A pleasure. However, I do not know anything about perverted worshipers of Gozreh. Spiritual matters are pretty much left to Baldra Siferth in this here colony; she's the main cleric on the mainland and runs the Counting House of Abadar."
She then added, "I hope you find what you seek. I did hear some grumbling from some folks about the unusual storms lately but this here is a tropical climate, right?"
Akosua nodded resignedly, "In truth I did not expect it to be so easy, but you do not get what you do not ask for. May I ask then of your troubles? Did those men have a reason for their shameful behaviour?"
Akosua turned back towards the young woman who had shouted and called, "That was a good insult, would you mind if I steal it? I am called Akosua, I have seen you on the ship, what is your name?"
"So what do you expect to find here in our colony?"
"I did not expect to find this level of animosity toward new arrivals, Sheriff," Min replied, clearly troubled. "Why were those men so confrontational? What have they to lose to new colonists?"
Somewhat cheered by the prospect of a job opportunity, Min fell in with the others crossing the bridge to the mainland and the Stone Hall.
Akosua turned back towards the young woman who had shouted and called, "That was a good insult, would you mind if I steal it? I am called Akosua, I have seen you on the ship, what is your name?"
"If opposition to newcomers is widespread in the colony, meeting threats with insults is hardly the way to encourage a sense of community," she put in darkly. "Suppose those men might have been interested in purchasing fire-armaments when they were sober? Or suppose they have family or friends who might? If they remember what you called them when they sober up, they'll hardly be interested in doing business."
"So what do you expect to find here in our colony?""I did not expect to find this level of animosity toward new arrivals, Sheriff," Min replied, clearly troubled. "Why were those men so confrontational? What have they to lose to new colonists?"
The sheriff shook her head, "And I apologize again for not being here. Theos there, he's bitter and lonely. His wife died a couple of months ago from malaria. The other is just his drinking buddy. Harmless really."
She shrugged, "I'll talk to them 'bout their misbehaving and tell to 'pologize."
Akosua looked the woman over and made a circular gesture with her hand, as if seeking the right words,
"It is so that with rough men an insult, well told, can serve to win respect and prick egos. It is hard to play the leader when your men laugh at you. Also in times when civility fails a good insult is most satisfying. Any man moved to attack someone for a simple insult deserves to face the consequences, I will be no meek little woman for such creatures - a better cure is to demonstrate the consequences of such behaviour and discourage more of the same."
"All yours, with my compliments," Alleria responds to Akosua's question with a wink, resettling her gun in its holster. "Name's Alleria Hawkins - and yours?" But at that moment, her question is interrupted by the woman she'd been explaining her gun to on board the ship - who apparently disapproved, for some reason.
"You make a good point...but she's got the right of it," Alleria adds, nodding toward Akosua. "Wasn't me that started things off rude, with him going after Lord Lard like that; I wasn't going to let them pummel him for the crime of being first off the boat, no matter how much padding he's got. And besides - was I wrong? If we're lucky, they'll remember every word...they earned it, and maybe remembering'll keep them from earning it again, better than being under the long arm of the law apparently has.
"I'm not too worried about whether or not they're buying...you don't exactly see a whole slew of other gunsmiths around here, do you?" She smirks good-naturedly at Minercuria. "I came here because I knew I'd be the only game in town when it came to black powder. And my work speaks for itself - they'll be by, you'll see, regardless of unfavorable-but-true comparisons."
"A pleasure to meet you Adaela, Adaela, Adela - I will remember. I am Akosua a Priestess of The One Who Rules Wind and Wave. I have come seeking rumours of people perverting the worship of "Gozreh", with the intent of finding the truth and delivering judgement. Would you know anything of such a thing? It is possible they are the root of your troubles to a sickness of root may ail the whole tree; but also possible they are far beyond this place, my sources were... Unreliable."The sheriff extended her hand in a frank, open greeting, "A pleasure. However, I do not know anything about perverted worshipers of Gozreh. Spiritual matters are pretty much left to Baldra Siferth in this here colony; she's the main cleric on the mainland and runs the Counting House of Abadar."
She then added, "I hope you find what you seek. I did hear some grumbling from some folks about the unusual storms lately but this here is a tropical climate, right?"
The women's words rocked Nsizi to his core. A spiritual sickness that might be affecting the world? Could this be related to the Bas'o sleeping sickness? He and this --he looked at her carefully for the first time -- Bonuwat kuhani had much to talk about.
Running a hand over the close-cropped curls on his scalp, Nsizi shook out his damp robes, making the fetishes rattle. Taking a few halting steps towards the bibi bosi, he inclined his head in a respectful manner, than held his hand and shook hers firmly. "Greetings from the Bas'o, Bibi Praet. I am Nsizi, of the Bas'o savannah. I come seeking medical aid. Perhaps later you can recommend some healers or apothecaries."
tag Adaela
"All yours, with my compliments," Alleria responds to Akosua's question with a wink, resettling her gun in its holster. "Name's Alleria Hawkins - and yours?"
Nsizi let out a bark of delighted laughter over the women's banter. It reminded him of his sisters and aunties at home, arguing and laughing at the same time as they worked together.
Action 2
As they headed towards their temporary shelter, Nsizi limp-hopped to catch up to the Bonuwat kuhani.
"Bibi Akosua, I would hear more of this sickness you speak of. You see, the children of the Bas'o have been falling ill for two seasons. They sleep, and cannot be roused. Perhaps we are part of the same tree."
tag Akosua
The women's words rocked Nsizi to his core. A spiritual sickness that might be affecting the world? Could this be related to the Bas'o sleeping sickness? He and this --he looked at her carefully for the first time -- Bonuwat kuhani had much to talk about.
Running a hand over the close-cropped curls on his scalp, Nsizi shook out his damp robes, making the fetishes rattle. Taking a few halting steps towards the bibi bosi, he inclined his head in a respectful manner, than held his hand and shook hers firmly. "Greetings from the Bas'o, Bibi Praet. I am Nsizi, of the Bas'o savannah. I come seeking medical aid. Perhaps later you can recommend some healers or apothecaries."
tag Adaela
Praet was pleased to meet the man, "Medical aid, uh? I guess word that we found that tree that cures the fever has gotten around."
She pauses as if remembering, "In fact, you should go and talk to Heri; she's the halfling that found the tree. She runs an apothecary of sorts on the island."
She then gave directions to Nsizi.
-----------------
Angie: I like the fact that you are using all these colorful terms and names but some of us (myself at least) do not know what they mean so you may have to provide some definitions. :)
"Theos there, he's bitter and lonely. His wife died a couple of months ago from malaria. The other is just his drinking buddy. Harmless really."
She shrugged, "I'll talk to them 'bout their misbehaving and tell to 'pologize."
Min merely nodded politely, but she wasn't so sure she should believe the sheriff's placating words. A man grieving ... but why blame newcomers? If he were bitter at the place itself for his wife contracting her illness, would he not have warned us off rather than calling us "leeches?" I'll have to speak with the Banker, if she'll grant me an audience, and ask if there is some undercurrent of discontent in the colony. Still, she wasn't about to question the local authority in public.
"It is so that with rough men an insult, well told, can serve to win respect and prick egos. It is hard to play the leader when your men laugh at you. Also in times when civility fails a good insult is most satisfying. Any man moved to attack someone for a simple insult deserves to face the consequences, I will be no meek little woman for such creatures - a better cure is to demonstrate the consequences of such behaviour and discourage more of the same."
"You make a good point...but she's got the right of it," Alleria adds, nodding toward Akosua. "Wasn't me that started things off rude, with him going after Lord Lard like that; I wasn't going to let them pummel him for the crime of being first off the boat, no matter how much padding he's got. And besides - was I wrong? If we're lucky, they'll remember every word...they earned it, and maybe remembering'll keep them from earning it again, better than being under the long arm of the law apparently has."
"Well, clearly they needed to be stopped," Min argued in return, "but when one responds to rudeness with rudeness, one only encourages one's adversaries to become ruder themselves. I certainly don't want to live in a town where the loudest and most aggressive is acknowledged as the leading citizen. The goal is civilization." She looked around at her fellow new arrivals, suddenly not quite sure what she had gotten herself into. "...Isn't it?"
Akosua shook her head, "Politeness and decency are two separate things that should not be confused. And rudeness often goes hand in hand with a show of strength, it is only another tool. Crude men will often take a lack of a response as capitulation. Like most things there is no always right and no always wrong, a clever or catchy slur may turn a crowd against a demagogue, or a brash insult might insight a crowd to violence. And why is the goal civilization? I would call that a means to the goal of happiness, and one that is often misguided, too many make the mistake of valuing the ship over the passengers."
To Alleria she replied, "I am Akosua, a pleasure I am sure."
When Nsizi approached her face tightened and she frowned, until she processed his words, "I did not mention a sickness as such, but such a thing could be what I am looking for. I speak with the animals and they have told me that someone is perverting my faith, causing a sickness would be a perversion, though I cannot see what its purpose might be. Perhaps we should speak with this Heri and see if our interests align, besides I should like to help if I can illness can be a terrible thing, especially when it afflicts the young ones."
Akosua shook her head, "Politeness and decency are two separate things that should not be confused. And rudeness often goes hand in hand with a show of strength, it is only another tool. Crude men will often take a lack of a response as capitulation. Like most things there is no always right and no always wrong, a clever or catchy slur may turn a crowd against a demagogue, or a brash insult might insight a crowd to violence. And why is the goal civilization? I would call that a means to the goal of happiness, and one that is often misguided, too many make the mistake of valuing the ship over the passengers."
Clearly unmoved, Min shook her head. "And who decides what is decent? Who decides who is a crude man who deserves mockery and who is a grieving widower who deserves pity? The 'ship,' as you put it, supports and protects all the passengers, and when no one tends to the ship, all the passengers drown."
Good heavens, this place may as well be the River Kingdoms! No wonder the sheriff is reduced to employing strangers straight off the boat; the poor woman and her staff must be tragically overworked.