The Source of Upwinder Inspiration

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 6 afternoon – The Upwinder HQ]

> Tramma shook her head in bemusement as she explained, “though there
> are *other* dreadfully mechanistic theories involving lots of math and
> physics and big frozen clouds or something being pushed around in
> squashed circles somehow by these huge planets so far away they look
> like stars. I could never wrap my head around any of that, I always
> found the whole Rube Goldberg arrangement kinda boring, dramatically
> unsatisfying, and a bit fantastical. Besides, math is hard unless it
> has to do with music.”

By now, both Laurelin and Ben were reasonably certain that Mother’s
guess had been reasonably correct. Some parts of what they held in their
hands indeed appeared to be nothing less than a basic Tellic primer,
intended for youngsters in various Church schools, to learn the basics
of the Tellic Faith. A lot of the core tenets of a number of the Benign
Telar were bundled together in a mish-mash that, oddly enough, rather
than being a confused and conflated collection of self-contradictions,
appeared to have an odd ecumenically beautiful appeal. If such primers
were fragmented, incomplete sections interspersed with other fragmentary
tales… and, of course, if Tellic tomes had been written in the curious
lokharic runes. .

It was even highly illustrated, again suggesting that the source
material was aimed for youngsters who might not yet have learned their
letters. At one point, Ben could even recognize an illustrated parable
that clearly involved Underdog, a spirit he particularly revered.
However, the illustrations, too, had been translated into a form more
accessible to kobolds, showing a noble dragon they called ‘Underdrake’
fighting off a collection of inferior creatures. Still with enough
features which combined with his signature rhyming and snatches of verse
always associated with the Canine Crusader made it clear this version
was inspired by the one Ben knew.

“I see some common similarities in your Tome and my own,” Ben observed
quietly. “And some differences, of course. With this knowledge I believe
we can come to a better understanding of each other.”

“I am glad to hear that,” 'Mother' smiled beatifically. “I was quite
inspired by the original books I found. They answered half-formed
questions and doubts I almost hadn’t consciously realized I had about
the teachings of my mentors in the traditional faith most kobolds
follow. Questions my mentors had rather harshly rejected when I ventured
to ask even the mildest of them.”

“Questions that seemed quite reasonable to ME,” the kindly old kobold
women mused. “Like, why must kobolds seeth with resentment at the rest
of the world, when we are capable of accomplishing so much in our own
right? We are hardworking, clever, and have a knack for mechanics and
mining. But instead of celebrating what we have, and working to build
something beautiful or useful for our own benefit, we build only to try
to hurt others from the safety of concealment. Why must we always fall
into a deadly cycle of hatred, violence, and reprisal - when all around
us the very societies and races who we resent and attack prove how much
stronger they are for embracing a much more peaceful outlook. We are
scarcely less skilled than the dwarves, yet they scornfully called us
‘yard trash’ and periodically pruned our tribes back to keep us from
threatening their delvings - and anyone not consumed with hatred and
envy could see that they had a point.”

“Unfortunately people tend to paint with a wide brush,” the Abbot
lamented somberly. “Based on the small amount of knowledge we possess.
We seem to be afraid to ask the questions. Because we are afraid of the
answers we might find. I am sure I am here because Belmak is teaching me
a lesson.”

“Resentment and jealousy are common traits amongst all species. How you
act on those feelings is the important part,” commented Laurelin.

“Had I not found that beautiful book,” 'Mother' mused. “I would most
likely have eventually given up those ‘damn fool soft doubts that will
get you killed’, as one of my teachers scornfully called them. Or died
as he predicted, I suppose. Ah, but now… I had a guide I could consult
WITHOUT letting those mentors know about my apostasy. For the more I
read, the more I admired those beautiful images, the more I absorbed of
the simple message of peace, love, and coexistence, the more I became
convinced that the kobold faith was not just evil, it was WRONG.”

“Just taking it this far proves you are brave and intelligent,” Laurelin
assured ‘Mother’.

“That is one of the many messages of your sacred tome,” Ben told the
revered kobold woman sincerely. “Thank you once again for allowing me
the privilege to read it.”

“That is one of our tenets,” ‘Mother’ told him almost fondly. “We always
keep one copy out for all to examine. Even those who still struggle to
read the runes can learn much from the pictures, that is, after all, one
of the points of the art.”

“I will try to get some other books for you and your followers to look
at,” Galdis Laurelin promised. “We have many divine patrons in the
Tellic pantheon. Finding the Tellic faith you are suited for is a core
part of our ethos.”

“That is where we got the idea, and more holy scripture to study would
be a divine gift! Another change from our past, but not so much as you
might think. Among ourselves, did we not at times treat each other with
respect and even affection,” the old kobold woman asked sincerely? “Yes,
much of kobold society even in our warrens was based on petty squabbles,
feuding, and power trips. Yet even all the fierce claims of the warriors
and the priests of our wargod and god of trickery could not entirely
extinguish the nobler sentiments that bound families and friends
together entirely.”

"I am against my brother," Tramma intoned solemnly. "And my brother and
I, against our neighbour. And my neighbour and I, against the world."

“Do unto others what has been done to me,” recited Laquendi. “Do unto
others what has been done to you.”

"Silverhairs have it exactly!" 'Mother' fairly beamed. "Only sadly, our
God of Trickery would often pervert those three to -- 'I’m going to kill
you because you killed my brother.' Followed by, 'I’m going to kill you
because I killed your brother.' And at the end, 'I’m going to kill my
brother and then kill you on the pretext that your brother did it.'"

"That's… horrible," Tramma gasped.

“*That* is UnderDark,” the silver-haried Elf added with resignation.

"So our legends say," 'Mother' confirmed. "Though none of our tribe in
living memory even knew a path there which was not blocked by the
dwarves. But it is also what too many kobolds consider to be Diplomacy."

Tramma seemed particularly upset by this, and 'Mother' gently patted her
on the arm. "I've tried my best to teach the Upwinders to be better than
that.”

“Thank you,” the silver haired bard breathed.

“It seems many are willing to hear what you say not just with their ears
but their hearts as well,” Ben observed thoughtfully.

“Not so many as my own heart would prefer,” the saintly old kobold woman
sighed regretfully. “The Social Justice Engineers, a lot of them I
didn’t get to early enough, or at all as the extended family of
believers had to become ever more clandestine,” 'Mother' lamented. “Only
so many hours in the day, and only so many risks my spiritual children
should dare lest they become martyrs to the cause. But I still have hope
for some SJE kobolds even so."

Laurelin’s face showed her concern as she added, “this worries me as
well, knowing inevitably there will be some of good intent mixed in that
haven't joined the Upwinders.”

“Not that we’ve been able to find, anyway,” the Foreman sighed.
“Locating the few who agree with our take on things and getting them out
has been our main focus for years now. Still a lot who might come over
to us with the balance of power visibility shifting, but a lot won’t
dare until it is clear that the damnable Social Justice Engineers are
going down. We have to be careful who we trust, after all.”

“You see, even among the leadership of the Upwinders there is a
difference of opinion about how many we can entice to join us, but we
have to try,” ‘Mother’ insisted quietly. The old kobold woman speared
the Foreman with a fierce glare, but the twinkle in her eye betrayed
that she was more teasing than criticizing. “Even if SOME of my students
with a more practical bent may grumble and think to themselves that I’m
a sentimental old fool of a pacifist. At least they are polite enough to
not say so aloud and try their best to keep their deplorably direct
methods from disturbing my serenity. They are such GOOD boys, really,
and only following my teachings to do what they think is right. Like all
living creatures, they must be free to make their own choices.”

Finfin, quite obviously, had no kinship with 'Mother' or her kind. But
somehow even he felt that the kindly kobold’s criticism of those of a
more “practical” bent included him as well as the Foreman. Yet… there
was sorrow in her voice, not censure. Her next words proved that she
might be a pacifist at heart, but she was certainly not an old fool, but
rather a wise leader who dared dream of peace and harmony.

“Guided by the Silver Dragon,” the ancient kobold woman explained
sincerely. “I long ago renounced violence except to save the innocent.
Yet there is no task more noble than the just defense of those who
cannot defend themselves. So I must often bless that which I deplore,
saving sorrow for those who are hurt or die fighting nobly to defend,
and condemning all who pleasure in the initiation of force for
aggression, conquest, or simply to impose their will upon those weaker.”

“I also agree, in nonviolence,” the Abbot nodded firmly. “There is a
time that defense of self or to protect another is necessary.”

“The oldest parts of what became our Book of the Silver Dragon,”
'Mother' motioned to the tome in front of Ben and Laurelin. “Those
simple tattered pages awakened ideas like that I could not have thought
without their impetus and example. Showed me how to enjoy emotions not
encouraged or sometimes tolerated by the leaders of most kobold tribes.
No doubt I would have come to a bad end when I was finally exposed, but
two things saved me.”

“What were they,” Ben asked curiously? He was finding this tale quite
fascinating, and realized that he was feeling a sense of kinship with
this ancient kobold woman with a sibilant rasp tinging the typical
squeaking voice of a kobold. Much to his credit, the Abbot no longer
thought of her foremost as a kobold - but rather a sister in faith.

“First, that lovely book had an entire chapter gently explaining why
evil must exist in the world,” 'Mother' smiled at Ben in reverent
memory. “In pictures and simple words I could easily understand,
cherish, and hold in my heart I learned what even the most powerless
might do to endure in secret what they could not immediately change,
holding hope hidden like a candle sheltered from the wind, until the
time when it dared shine forth and become a beacon to the world. Huddled
in whatever secret spot I could find to continue my REAL studies, I
learned the two most important lessons I could - the virtue of patience
and endurance, and the vital importance of keeping hope alive.”

Ben nodded his head in agreement. These were indeed important lessons he
could completely understand and agree with.

Tramma picked up on Laquendi’s silent but increasing disquiet. The
Drow’s usual carefully-neutral expression wasn’t holding; the frown on
her face grew more distinct - not in disgust at the story, but combined
with her narrowing eyes was an easily-seen sign to the bard that she was
distressed by Mother’s telling.

“Second, simultaneously and wondrously both ironic and almost
miraculous, the dwarves we hated and feared so much helped save me,” the
old kobold woman shook her head in mingled wonder and sorrow. “One of
their punitive attacks nearly wiped out our tribe; all the leadership
and the elders lie among the dead. Yet another irony, about the only
reason I was not killed along with nearly all the other shaman of the
tribe was I was off hiding in a far tunnel huddled over my precious
forbidden book. By the time I heard what was happening it was all over.”

“You survived as a blessing to share the knowledge with others,” the
Abbot assured her reverently.

“I still do not know if that was truly guidance from the Spirits,”
'Mother' sighed fondly, with a thankful expression for Ben’s words of
encouragement. “Or just luck, if luck the less enlightened insist on
calling it. I have had the prayers for quite some while now to ask, but…
I think you will understand when I tell you that long before that was
possible for me, I had decided that some questions are best answered by
your own faith rather than demanding concrete answers from the Spirits.
Sometimes, it is better to believe than to know.”

“Faith is it's own REWARD,” Ben asserted reverently.

“For such as you and I, certainly,” the ancient kobold priestess
chuckled. “These youngsters, or the confused and frightened young woman
I was back then, not so much. I suddenly found myself at a very tender
age thrust into the role of a senior shaman,” the kobold priestess
remembered with another wry chuckle.

“The only other shaman who even suspected I might have notions not
acceptable to the usual sort managing kobold affairs were dead, and any
suspicions of my secret apostasy died with him.” ‘Mother’ laughed in
delight, and admitted, “I had no real idea what I was doing, but then
neither did anyone ELSE trying to keep the tatters of our tribe together
and alive. Now, suddenly, I was in a position I was ill-prepared for,
but in a situation where everyone left was just as young and
inexperienced, and far more flexible of mind and willing to listen to
new ideas.”

“Your faith comforted you and gave you strength to continue and face the
challenges ahead,” Ben pointed out serenely.

“Of course it did, Tall Brother in faith,” the old kobold woman
chuckled. “The problem was, my brain was many years from catching up
with what my heart already knew. When I tentatively suggested that
perhaps we should consider lying low and not antagonizing the dwarves
for a while,” she continued to laugh at the ancient memories. “Everyone
thought that was a VERY sensible notion quite in line with the
time-honored kobold virtues of prudently hiding from stronger opponents
considering how brutally they had destroyed our elders. I did not dare
share ALL of my ideas to improve our lot just yet, and some of them not
for many years after that. But it was a start, a clawhold into a crack
to begin widening it so eventually we might pass through. I could not
have imagined then what was to come. I was too wrapped up in survival to
yet consciously dream of trying to redeem my people, but somewhere deep
in my soul the egg from which that mad noble aspiration would hatch was
waiting for the right moment to hatch.”

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