"Bequesteth of salutories did not requirementalize to-est thisself. Tar'ff offic'r B 4 collecteth summation by fate anon, exclusat'ry to-est aristononymous knave."
B4 follows with a brief declaration in the villagers' tongue then raises his right arm, arrow-straight, and with his forefinger extended begins pointing at individual villagers in a jerky motion: an adult man here, a young girl there, an infant in the arms of it's mother. Several of the women begin to sob, their cries joining those of the goat-thing, while the men hang their heads in resignation; the first man B4 indicated begins to walk towards the back of the carriage, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast, as B4 continues pointing out members of the crowd.
Hope had briefly filled Klaus's eyes when Vernalis began conversing with B4, but as the "offic'r" begins pointing out members of the crowd, his face droops in disappointment and defeat.
hmm... he isn't actually answering me at all, merely delivering information in my language when he recognizes it... I wonder if he actually understands it at all or if he just has responses prepared regarding the collection of the tax in numerous languages... if I can get back to his settlement perhaps there will be someone there with whom I can speak...
Vernalis gives up on trying to communicate with the strangely helmed creature and instead begins examining the carriage...
Vernalis walks around the outside of the carriage. The carriage and chassis have roughly the same lateral dimensions - twenty feet long by twelve feet wide - with the chassis clearing three feet over the ground and the carriage having an additional height of ten feet; however, the long axis of the carriage is set across the narrow axis (width) of the chassis. The carriage end opposite the open ramp appears identical save for a lack of hinges; this end does not open. The far side of the carriage is featureless, without door or window. It appears the carriage has no team to pull it, nor even anywhere for such a team to be hitched. He is unable to see onto the roof of the carriage. The chassis features spiked metal wheels which are set into the road's ruts. Unless it's built of some particularly lightweight metal, he estimates it weighs at least a ton.
Peering inside he can see that the interior is divided into two sections by a metal grate made of crossed vertical and horizontal bars. The ramp end is a cargo section containing several built-in bins full of crystalline ore and is slowing filling up with despondent villagers; the seating section accessed by the side door contains only a narrow bench seat. The opposite end of the carriage (five feet in length) seems inaccessible from both the inside and out.
B4 turns his head to Vernalis as the wizard peeks inside the carriage, several loud, sharp clicks audible above the whirring of the helm's lenses and the ubiquitous tutting noise.
"Prithee grise henceways fromst certainmost autobulation, aristononymous knave."
Vernalis backs away from the autobulation in accordance with the officer's instruction. Walking back towards the strange figure he asks, "Officer b4, I don't want to interfere with your tax collecting at all, but is there any chance that after you have completed your work I might be able to ride back to your settlement with you?"
The last of the selected villagers trudges up the ramp of the carriage, a young man holding a toddler, as B4 responds to Vernalis.
"Certainmost autobulation utmost sanctionary; aristononymous knave be'est unofficious." As he speaks B4 reaches into the workings of the scale next to him and lifts it off the ground, the intricate mechanisms swinging and folding in on themselves under their own weight into a much more compact arrangement. He makes a short declaration to the remaining villagers in their own tongue, the end of which is spoken in a very different voice, and they all force fake smiles. B4 then addresses Vernalis again.
"G'daysomeness untoeth aristononymous knave," he says in the hollow monotone, then pauses and continues in a high pitched, ridiculous sounding voice: "And reMEMber - hV" B4 turns to mount the steps into the carriage.
Vernalis mimics the fur people's forced fake smiles. Then stands next to Bergmann Klaus to watch the carriage roll away.
B4 climbs the steps into the carriage and sits down on the bench, scale on his lap, then grabs a long, slim lever along the right side of the bench which Vernalis had failed to notice. He pushes it forward then yanks it back, causing a muted cacophony of mechanical noises to begin to emanate from the carriage.
First the doors to the bench seat area slide closed while at the same time the ramp raises, locking into place with a clank; this is followed by the porticullis dropping shut. Next, the carriage rises up from the chassis, inches at a time, on a central telescoping rod which connects the two; when the bottom of the carriage has cleared the tops of the wheels, about two feet in height, it rotates counter-clockwise forty five degrees and then lowers back down onto the chassis, such that the closed ramp now faces the village. Finally the wheels begin to turn, pulling the entire "autobulation" forward and down the slope of the hill. The carriage attains an impressive speed and quickly disappears out of view around the next hill.
The despondent villagers watch the carriage until it is out of sight, then begin to disperse. Several men get the goat-thing to it's feet and lead it back into the village square.
Vernalis stands with the saddened fur-men watching the carriage roll away.
wow, I wonder what type of service those people must render to satisfy their taxes... I've seen no signs of currency, I suppose they must find other ways to barter with other settlements and levy taxes... the people certainly do seem upset by the transaction though... and the tax officer was very odd...
When the men lead the goat creature up to the village square he follows and then curls up on his makeshift bed and quickly drifts back to sleep.
The Optimumist looks sternly at you, slowly shaking his head.
"No, it is the Auran which is fusional and the Aquan which is agglutinative. I swear, I've seen more diligence from a cat. You are nearly nine years old now, Vernalis, and yet still you struggle with the elemental tongues. How long has it been? Three days? Four?
"I see the promise of so much talent within you, so much ability, yet I know not how to inspire you to seize it. I hope that some day I do. Now, let us begin again with the Aquan..."
Vernalis wakes from the endless repetition of elemental alphabets to find his mind strikingly clear and focused, and the solutions to several of the problems he's faced for both the past few hours and past few years become obvious to him.
A dozen or so children are in the village center tending to the fire pits, watched over by the elderly woman; no other people are in sight. There is a clear sky but a strong chill in the air, even around the fire pits.
Vernalis rises and stretches, with a groan that is partly contentment at having finally slept and partly an expression of the effects of sleeping on a pile of straw. He puts on his backpack and approaches the elderly woman. In the best Viridian he can muster on his first try he asks, "Excuse me, please, mother... where do find Bergmann Klaus?"
The old woman points to one of the bunkhouses. "He sleeps there, mist-man."
"My name be Vernalis," the young wizard pieces together in the new language, "thank you. Be it alright if me just enter or must me make a sign and wait for answer?"
"You may enter."
Vernalis enters the building the old woman indicates, and finds Bergmann Klaus asleep on a straw mat. Thinking better of waking him, the wizard goes back outside and asks the old woman about the village and its history.
"Our's is the village of Bergmann, and always we have been miners. We take stone, iron, and bogoats from the mountain; we grow berstalk and rukroot in the ground. Many years ago, when I was but a girl, we found the first crystals and sent them to Aerugo. We were told that from then on we could tithe in crystal rather than people, and so we have done. Shortly thereafter the Wunderkind became Governor, and every year the crystal required has increased, but this is the first time we have been unable to provide the amount the Wunderkind has asked. It is a shame; we did we all we could, but we could not foresee or stop such a landslide. Most here are too young to have ever had to pay a true tithe."
"Bogoats?" Vernalis inquires, "Be this... is this the name for the animal held down while the... tithe-man was here? Sorry, what is the name for the tithe-man?"
The old woman tuts at a child whose attention has strayed from the cauldron they're supposed to be stirring, then nods her head at Vernalis.
"The taxman is called 'Bee Foor,' and yes, that is a bogoat. The men were trying to make the taxman take it instead of people, arguing that by weight is was a better tithe; ridiculous." She snorts. "Tithing a bogoat. Who ever heard of such a thing? We'll be lucky if the Governor does not take offense. Bee Foor seems a fair man, though, and hopefully will not mention it to anyone."
"How far is it to Aerugo?" the young man asks, "I would like to go there, but maybe I can help the Bergmanns to mine better before I leave..."
that would be one way I could do some good for these people... if I helped them make longterm changes based on what we did to speed progress last night, and perhaps taught them some basic techniques for engineering supports for their mine shafts, perhaps they can return to paying their tax entirely in crystal...
The old woman chuckles to herself. "Help Bergmann to mine better? We have worked with shovel and pick since before memory, yet always someone thinks they can do better. We are the best; we were better than the old Governor's men, we were better than the Wunderkind's digging carriages, and now you would like to do better. But I am just an old woman, and what do I know of such things?
"Aerugo is many days walk towards the dawn. At night, you can see it's glow from higher up the slope, but none of Bergmann have ever been there and returned."
"I am sorry," Vernalis mutters to the the woman's objection, "I did not try to make insult... I can not dig better than the Bermanns, but I might be able to help the Bergmanns dig better than before... Why have no Bergmanns ever come back from Aerugo? What about the tithe did never they return too?"
The old woman regards Vernalis with a quizzical look. "Of course the tithes do not return. And we of Bergmann are not travellers; we are content to live amongst ourselves in our hills, working the land. Now I must tend to the children; if you wish to speak of mining, speak to Klaus." She slowly rises to her feet, waddling over to one of the fire pits to inspect its cauldron while tutting the two children there.
Vernalis' stomach grumbles as the old woman walks away.
these first few days out of the sphere are all blending together... when was the last time I ate? I need to acclimate to these days and nights... from what I've seen I can't be certain, but the Bergmanns don't seem to be nocturnal... when Klaus wakes up I'll ask him if there's a place I can sleep tonight.
The young wizard removes a carrot from his bag and focuses on it to empower it to sustain him for the day, as he has his done with his one meal a day ever since his mentor discovered his ability to do so as a boy...
Vernalis concentrates on enriching the food only to find that the mystic paths from which he normally draws such power are somehow blocked, as if a sense he never fully realized he'd had was now blinded. Now that he's noticed it, he's acutely aware of it's absence; a conversation with The Optimumist from long ago, when he was still but a small child, springs to his mind...
You have a talent in you, child, that is striving to express itself. It has connected itself to Bastion, to the very land itself, to try and fulfill it's potential. That talent, boy, is magic - the greatest talent of all - and one that I can teach you to harness to much greater effect.
He now realizes that his mentor was being quite literal; it seems he has strayed too far from Bastion and lost his connection to it, and is unable to call upon it's power to cleanse and improve upon his food and water.
hmm... that natural magic has sustained me for as long as I can remember... I never even considered not having it... how much food do I need to eat in a day? what if the Bergmann food is poisonous for me...
A troubled Vernalis sits quietly by the cooking fires. He slowly nibbles on his carrot, and ponders his recently revelation, as he waits for Bergmann Klaus to awaken.
I wonder if they'll even offer me any food...
Throughout the afternoon stragglers from the mine arrive, men and children too exhausted to make it back to the village in time for the tithing. People begin to gather in the village center, small groups of friends and family who sit on the ground in loose circles, to lament the day's events and console one another. As the shadows begin to grow long, food is passed out in earthenware bowls filled from one of the cauldrons - a thin aromatic berstalk broth with a single chunk of bogoat meat sitting in it. Klaus appears amidst his fellow villagers looking drawn and somber and, after commiserating with various clusters of people, he approaches Vernalis and proffers a bowl of food to the wizard.
"Thank you, Bergmann Klaus," Vernalis carefully pronounces in the bergmann's tongue, "I hope that you did sleep well."
He holds the bowl in both hands, feeling it's warmth in his cold fingers, and he inhales its smell deeply.
well, I suppose I shall have to try this and see what effect it has on my body, after all the food I have certainly won't last long on it's own...
The soup's broth has a subtle yet hearty flavor; the bogoat meat - the first flesh save Bastion's preserved fish that Vernalis has ever eaten - is surprisingly dense, sitting firmly at the bottom of the bowl, yet quite tender and mildly sweet. Overall a comforting and filling meal, as well as a shocking departure from the feeble vegetables and pickled fish Vernalis has known all his life.
Bergmann Klaus is obviously surprised and mildly upset by Vernalis's words. "You can speak our language - you've understood me this whole time - yet you did not speak? Why?"
"I am sorry I could not speak with you sooner, Bergmann Klaus," the young wizard answers, "it took many hours of studying your words and..." grammar... "the way you arrange them, for me to make sense of your language. I still am making sense of it... Thank you for having patient with me, and for giving me eating. The bogoat eats good."
Klaus still wears a guarded frown but seems placated by Vernalis's explanation.
"What are you then? You helped me in the mist," Klaus gives an unconscious shudder of revulsion at the memory, "and helped us find ore at the mine. You obviously share some language with the taxman; are you from the capital? We did not think that free folk lived there still. Some here believe you to be a creature of the mist, while others think you a servant of some other province, and some few think you both; either way most think you're here to spy on us. Is this true?"
"I am a..." how would I say 'vestige'? "...leftover. The survivor from an ancient..." civilization? "...tribe. My teacher had... power to protect me from the disaster that destroyed all other, but it caused me to be lost in the hills after landslide. I think landslide might have been the last part of the disaster."
"You must come from far away - there have never been any peoples here at the world's edge save us, and we've had no disasters here except for the recent landslides. First, the peak of Mount Alidade crumbled five days ago, though by chance the mine was spared. Then, a second landslide came the night before we met, along with a flood, and washed out the mine entrance; perhaps there has been some secret river eating away at the heart of the mountain? Who can say.
"There are dangers here, to be sure - wild bogoats, weirdling mists, drought, and the like - but we have always lived and tithed in peace, removed from the concerns of other folk. We have tales that folk of other provinces are strange and dangerous, that they send the weirdling mists to torment us, that they make war upon each other for the attentions of the Sovereign City. Perhaps you come from one of them?"
"I think I come from beyond the world's edge," Vernalis answers sadly, "but I promise you, Bergmann Klaus, I am not a spy for anyone... How could I be, you are the only person in this world that I know... besides you the only persons I have talked with are Taxman Bee Foor and the old lady who cooks and watches children..."
"Beyond the world's edge?" Klaus shakes his head in disbelief. "We of Bergmann believe that there is nothing save this world we know; but we are not scholars. If you know not from whence you came, then who else is to say? In any event, I am told you were of great help at the mine last night, and for that we are thankful. You are welcome to stay here in Bergmann for as long as you like, but I fear our lives are simple and hard.
"Perhaps in the capital someone may know of your tribe or your home, but again, we know little of the city save what our elders' elders told. Bee Foor is a strange type of man who cares little for casual conversation, and simply makes clear what our Governor requires - that we provide ore for the tithe, and enjoy our lives and our work. Up until today, we have done both for generations; now we must try and put aside our sorrow and throw ourselves into our work so that we may again do both for next season's tithe.
"Our eldest matron says you wish to discuss mining; I shall introduce you to our mining master. If you decide to leave us, we can outfit you against the cold - we men of Bergmann grow accustomed to it, but it seems you are not so hardy. We can dress you in berweave and furs, and give you hotrocks to carry, to ward away the chill. Now that the tithing has passed, it will only grow colder."
"Thank you, Bergmann Klaus, you are very generous," Vernalis answers, "it is much colder here already than I am experienced with. I would be grateful for something to keep me warm on the journey when I leave tomorrow, and maybe some food if you have some to spare. Please, do take me to your mining master. I would like to help you all too, if I am able."
Vernalis happily follows Klaus to meet with the bergmann in charge of mining, and does his best with the vocabulary at his disposal to offer some guidance on how the principles he demonstrated during the long night of mining could be applied on a more permanent basis...
Klaus takes Vernalis to the village mining master, one of the elderly men he noticed earlier, and the two discuss Bergmann's mining operations at length hours into the night. The man obviously knows his trade quite well and, after an initial period of dismissive annoyance, relishes discussing it's finer points with someone who is as knowledgeable as he is. To the man's delight Vernalis is able to provide some helpful tips for reinforcing the mine's construction once the entrance is cleared and repairs begin, and he gives the wizard something in return: a black pearl, painstakingly wrapped in a piece of leather. The mining master unties the leather and carefully opens it, being sure to keep it cupped.
"I found this in my youth, in the deepest shaft of the mine, long since collapsed. I know not what manner of stone it is, but it is too smooth to handle easily - it is as if it is covered in the most slippery of fats. I chased it around for hours before I managed to secure it. I know of no use for it, but it seems to be unbreakable. I've learned all the stone-lore my people have and added much more to it besides, and yet yours is superior; like yourself, this stone is a mystery, and if anyone might find use for it surely it is you."
"Thank you greatly, Master Miner," Vernalis answers, carefully accepting the pearl, "let me look closer, maybe there is a chance I can tell you something about your mysterious gift..."
Unsure what the pearl may be after examining it with the naked eye, Vernalis executes his cantrip and studies the magical auras it uncovers.
"What a wonderful creation," Vernalis marvels, "it is a vessel for storing... power. If you have the right kind of power the pearl..." that can't be the right word for this "will store that power and use it to protect you if someone else tries to use similar power against you."
The young wizard smiles half-heartedly, certain that his limited knowledge of Viridian language and culture has obscured much of his meaning. Very carefully wrapping the armillary back up, he cautiously places the new treasure into a small, secure pocket of his backpack. With a full and earnest smile he bows to the mining master and adds, "It is truly a generous gift, thank you."
After mimicking whatever parting niceties the old miner shares, Vernalis heads back towards the bergmann sleeping huts to rest and prepare to venture onward tomorrow.
Vernalis sleeps through the early morning and wakes refreshed. After preparing himself for the day, he goes to bid his farewells to Klaus, who accompanies him to the beginning of the road.
"This road leads to the capital, but be wary of those you meet in the mists. We know little of Aerugo; in the time when our elders were young we had visitors from the city, but since the Wunderkind became governor we have had only the taxman Bee Foor. From what we can tell from him, only those in the service of the governor remain in the city." Klaus gives Vernalis the supplies promised to him: clothes, rations, and a "hot box." "We've warmed the stones for you, so they should last you until tonight; put them in your fire when you make camp and they'll be ready again the next morning."
The hirsute man gives the wizard a nod. "Good fortune to you, Vernalis."
"And to you Bergmann Klaus," Vernalis answers, hoping the phrase will convey his gratitude for the hospitality he received.
what am I doing... leaving a town where I have a place to sleep and food to eat may be a mistake... of course, who knows how long they'd be willing to have me... and I'm obviously not going to learn anything about the cataclysm or what followed if I stay here...
With a nervous smile to his host the young wizard turns his face towards Aerugo and sets out.
Vernalis spends the day on the road. He covers 18 miles, passing through the foothills of the duskward mountains and into the valley's fertile plain. He passes no towns or villages in his travels, the plain being a lush, overgrown wilderness of tall grass dotted with groups of short, thin trees. It appears to Vernalis that the growth is probably only a few years old. The only wildlife he encounters is the occasional small, fine-feathered gliding lizard, about 8 inches in height. They scurry off the road and into the grass when he approaches, though he sees a few sailing off of some of the larger trees and into the grasses in the distance, presumably hunting some form of prey. The road intersects no other roads, paths, or trails, and remains clear of any obstructions, the deep ruts of the 'autobulation' continuing on without deviation.
The day proves to be quite warm, the hot box and stones provided by the people of Bergmann unnecessary, but as the sun lowers towards the horizon a chill wind sweeps through grass and the wizard determines that he'd best start a fire. A foray into the grass near the edge of the road gives him enough dry grass and brush for fuel, and after several failed attempts he manages to get them to light. He places the spent hot rocks into the low-burning fire and sits down to eat a dinner of bogoat and berstalk.
Just as the sun is setting a mist creeps over the road, dimming the light of the wizard's already feeble fire. A few minutes later he is quite surprised by a voice which echoes out from the mist, seemingly from all around him; though unable to determine it's source, he recognizes the effect to be one similar to the ventriloquism spell.
"No, indeed, not a Bergmann," Vernalis calls out in Viridian with some concern, "a traveler who means you no harm... You are one of those creatures the Bergmanns call weirdlings, are you not? Please come out where I can see you so that we may talk. Perhaps I have some knowledge, or some abilities, that would be of use to you..."
"I am called Vernalis," the young wizard answers, "I am a he, not an it, if I understand this language correctly. And, I am from Bastion, the forgotten home of a forgotten people. What is your name and from where do you hail?"
this must be what Klaus felt like when I came upon him in the mist... if only this creature would reveal itself as I did... at least we share a language though...
"You are a long way from home then, whisper of the mist," Vernalis replies somewhat nervously as the creature emerges, "here where no waters run and no light shines..."
unless this is some manner of riddle... perhaps I should douse the fire and see if this weirdling needs it's light...
When the creature speaks of taking his anonymity he answers, "You may have it; I give it freely. I do not desire to be forgotten any longer, but to find a place in this world to belong- to be known, and needed."