Dwarven Eugenics

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 6 afternoon – The Upwinder HQ]

> “Thank you for having the strength in your new found faith to share
> with the others,” the Abbot nodded.

“Ah, but we had only begun to face challenges,” ‘Mother’ reminded Ben
with relish. “As my confidence grew, I made more suggestions. Since the
earlier ones had worked so well. But… I had made a few mistakes along
the way. The first of which was forgetting that I was not the ONLY
junior shaman to survive. Some of the others were not at all pleased as
my suggestions strayed further and further from the accepted wisdom of
our forefathers and their foul ‘gods’.”

“As people hear the wisdom and truth, that is different than their own,”
Ben commiserated, “they will either embrace the new ideas or their heart
hardens and they will hear none of it.”

“I quickly realized that I still needed to be more discreet, which
bought me some time at least,” ‘Mother’ continued with evident zest. “I
became quite adept at couching my ‘suggestions’ in terms acceptable to
the traditionalists honoring our ancestral wargod and god of trickery. I
took a certain delight in using trickery on them, of course. I also was
making sure to be far more attentive to the eggs in the hatchery and the
young hatchlings than any of the other shaman bothered to be yet.”

“Taking care of the future generations as well as the present generation
is just as important,” Ben agreed. “The generation of the future carries
the messages of the past. Then there is HOPE.”

“There was a poem in my beloved book,” ‘Mother’ continued, “which we
much later learned was the lyrics of a hymn. It became my mantra for
dealing with the hatchlings,” she explained joyously. Without pausing
she sang in a surprisingly melodic voice, a hymn popular among several
Tellic faiths that both Ben and Laurelin recognized:

“Teach your children well
Your father’s hell did slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick’s the one you’ll know by”

(chorus to ‘Teach Your Children’ Crosby, Stills, & Nash)

“Those words were a gift,” ‘Mother’ enthused. “They showed me what I
needed to do, for in traditional kobold society, all the eggs in the
tribe are brought to the hatchery. Raising the hatchlings is an assigned
duty, and there is little to no familial connection for most kobolds.”

“WE have this hymn in my faith also,” Ben marvelled. “Do you happen to
know a hymn called ‘Feed the Birds’? it's one of my favorites, and I
would gladly teach it to you if you like to learn it.”

“Focus, Your Grace,” Tramma hissed at him.

Lomi blinked incredulously at her old pal. “Who are you, and what have
you done with Tramma?”

“I said I made mistakes,” the ancient kobold woman chuckled, as much at
herself as the byplay before her. “But my enemies among the shaman as it
happens were busily making MUCH worse mistakes. They never paid
attention to what I was doing in the hatchery, they apparently felt it
was beneath them to even care. I, on the other hand, was busy forming a
bond with every new kobold who hatched into our tribe. Better yet, I was
teaching them the VALUE of such bonds, and of course learning that for
myself.”

“Yes, indeed,” the Abbot agreed. “The unborn hold the promise of the
future.”

“Worse in the end for my rivals,” chortled ‘Mother’. “They saw the
wisdom in my urging that we rebuild our strength before we dared come to
the attention of the dwarves again. That turned out quite by accident to
be one of the best ‘suggestions’ I made. Or maybe, of course, it was
more of that pesky so-called luck that we both suspect is far more
likely the will of the Divine acting subtly to a plan we can only guess.”

“A blessing, or luck; some might say it is both,” Ben intoned, sketching
the symbol of The Bolt in midair. A fairly reasonable fraction of the
watching kobolds gasped in delight and echoed that sign on their chests,
though theirs did not glow with pure holy light like his.

“What I did not know at the time,” ‘Mother’ explained. “Was just how
closely some among the dwarves watched and kept records of all our
doings. In some secret lair down among their Delvings was someone whose
charge it was to keep careful note about the frequency of attacks or
other incidents. When we uncharacteristically went so long with not a
single confrontation of any sort with dwarves, some of those silent
watchers whose specialty was monitoring kobolds were sent to find out
what we were up to.”

The Holy Man nodded. “When things are quiet is sometimes when we need to
pay the most attention to our surroundings.”

“Little did I know then just how pleased they were by what they found,”
the old kobold snorted. “They were as much watching for someone like me
among the kobolds as for plots of attack, raiding, or escape. Or among
other races ‘trapped’ in their mountains, I surmise. Someone among the
dwarves is quite obviously more far-sighted than we had ever realized.”

That observation was met with a number of nods from several members of
the Away Team. Not all of them were on the best of all possible terms
with dwarves, but none could deny the ability of at least some of those
who followed the Soul Forger for Long Term Planning.

“It was not immediately obvious we were being watched with growing
approval by those we had always thought our enemies and oppressors,”
sighed ‘Mother’. “I still struggle to forgive the dwarves who found
delight in raiding our warrens, but I must admit that never happened in
the fashion which opened up my path into the leadership again. How the
dwarves managed it I do not entirely understand, though given the way we
have bamboozled the SJE I should be able to figure it out. I suppose
‘the Foreman’ probably could explain it to me if I asked, though I have
carefully not asked him or any of his predecessors for fear I would be
horrified by what they tell me.”

Ben nodded in agreement.

“Over the next few years, our warren prospered,” the old kobold woman
shrugged. “I should have realized some of what I passed off as luck had
design behind events, though this time I am *quite* certain it was
dwarven cunning, not divine spirits at work. I was not able to keep our
shaman and warriors from resuming their sneak attacks on dwarven
travelers or raids to attempt to steal what they could, though I WAS
able to exert enough of my growing secret influence on my ‘children’ to
keep most of them clear of such attempts.”

“Remember,” Ben suggested, “what is divine depends on how the person
interprets it . Or simply, what is Holy to one might not be Holy to
another.”

‘Mother’ nodded. “I did that out of moral conviction, but once again
fate had taken a hand,” she explained. “What I had no way of knowing was
that every time cunning kobold warriors guided by the divinations of
their shaman honoring the wargod or the god of trickery attempted a
raid, they were brutally stopped and usually decimated by unexpectedly
strong dwarven forces defending their targets.”

The Abbot sighed. “It sounds like they were fighting an uphill battle
with no hope of winning.”

“You can just imagine how much that improved the position of the
secretive faction within the tribe that I had created and led,” the
ancient kobold woman snickered. “Not only were my ‘children’ mostly
spared, all the other survivors of the tribe paid more and more heed to
my notions.”

Ben smiled warmly. “Their hearts began to soften and hear THE WORD of
the sacred book that you preached.”

“Well, I wish it were that, but it was more that kobolds are quite
attuned to associating bad outcomes with previous decisions, like, for
instance, the strong tendency of people who ignored my advice to leave
the dwarves alone ending up quite dead. I was by far the senior shaman
by now,” observed ‘Mother’. “Another piece of apparent luck that I later
learned was the design of the dwarves; my ‘children’ kept finding books
useful to my studies discarded in some of the rubbish heaps of the
dwarves we dared sift through for usable salvage. None of my rivals
among the shaman dared challenge me directly now, and I had begun
training some of my ‘children’ so that I had my own circle of acolytes
and apprentices I could trust.”

“Increasing the strength of the followers,” Ben predicted, warm approval
in his voice.

“Perhaps the divine was behind the dwarven actions,” Laurelin added. “Or
at least some of the dwarven actions. After all, as odd as Mackwal might
appear to some, especially we elves, He IS among the Benign Telar.”

‘Mother’ gave the elven High Priestess an appreciative look. “It IS good
to think so, and strangely reassuring to know others are also troubled
by some of what the dwarves do. That aside, thanks to all those tomes we
kept finding, we knew FAR more of the workings of the Spirits than our
rivals,” the old woman cackled a little nastily. “That did not stop them
from TRYING to challenge our growing power, of course, but it did say
such schemes never worked out well for them. I think eventually we would
have either completely taken over and converted the whole warren to our
beliefs, or more likely split away from our neighbors with such
irreconcilable beliefs to what I was teaching to form an independent
warren on a completely new and different basis. Lucky for us (there’s
that word again), fate in the form of the secretive dwarves had a vastly
different plan in mind.”

“Let us together see what we can do to give peace a chance,” Ben affirmed.

“All we are saaaying…” Lomi muttered, only to feel her pal’s elbow in
her side.

“Watch it,” Tramma grumbled sotto voce.

‘Mother’ gave a toothy grin at the byplay among the various Tall People.
“Well, funny you should mention that,” laughed the old kobold women
cheerily. “Not the first time somebody has made just about that offer to
us, but NOW I think we’re in a much better position to accept. You see,
those dwarves I mentioned spying on us; they decided it was time to have
a little chat with the naive young kobold shaman they had been secretly
supporting while they were peeping to see what she was up to.”

A proverbial pin could have been heard dropping, as the Away Team leaned
forward attentively to hear what was next.

“Turns out that the dwarves are not JUST letting humanoid so-called
‘monsters’ wander around unfettered in their mountains for sport and
training,” sighed ‘Mother’. “They apparently have an additional reason,
that I still have not decided how I really feel about even after a VAST
number of years contemplating and praying on the issue. The idea is they
watch for reform minded individuals, like, say ME. If such individuals
are confirmed as sincere, they offer them the chance to relocate to a
protected area with other like minded individuals of their people.”

“Interesting,” Ben observed.

“The idea as it was explained to me was to foster the long term change
of abusive and dangerous societies like the one I grew up in,” the
ancient kobold explained. “And encourage them to over many generations
reform and become peaceful neighbors. Really not a terrible plan, and in
fact they are in their way fairly respectful of the choices of the
humanoids. Ignoring for the moment the sporting and training warfare by
their random citizens up to that point.”

“Dwarven eugenics,” Finfin grumbled.

“Even someone like my ‘children’ and I are not FORCED to enter their
special program in the protected areas,” corrected ‘Mother’ gently.
“Only catch is that once they explain this to you, they expect you to
see the ‘obvious’ advantages and jump at the chance to enter their
paternalistic protected program and the guided development along the
lines THEY have decided for your people. That I admit stuck in my craw
just a bit, especially after the way we’d been cheerfully hunted and
chased by dwarves for all the generations my tribe of kobolds had lived
in ‘their’ mountains.”

“You were allowed a choice,” Ben observed with a frown, “as long as it
was the one they offered you.”

“In fairness, the dwarves mostly ignored us so long as we left them
alone,” the old kobold sighed. “Which, of course, the stupid aggressive
and resentful sorts that were the norm in kobold society just could
never stomach doing if they thought they had gained the advantage -
‘this time, for sure!’” She shook her head sadly and looked faintly
disgusted.

“Some never learn,” the Abbot lamented. “Too stuck in their OLD ways to
change!”

“From the dwarves’ point of view it wasn’t a bad deal,” admitted
‘Mother’. “Shells, from MY point of view it wasn’t a bad deal. It was
just… we had come so far without them, even if they HAD been tipping the
scales in our favor all along without my ever realizing they were there.
That I guess is what was bothering me. I had thought I was so clever,
and so devout and persuasive, and all along our old nemesis had
completely fooled us and taken it upon themselves to offer exactly the
peaceful life we dreamed of - but in a hothouse environment, where THEY
would be making the decisions about our future, not allowing us to make
our own mistakes.”

“Many of all races like to play GOD!” Ben exclaimed, frustration clear
in his voice. “Because they believe they know what is best; do not
question them just fall in line.”

“Yeah! Preach it, Tall Guy,” a kobold burst out excitedly. The
expression of several of his neighbors ranged from embarrassed to
enraptured to disgusted.