FH: Prophecy and Proposal

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 AM – The Waterworks]

> “Claws,” the Foreman corrected. “But yes. So slaughter is not in SJE’s
> interests. Incarceration is. Any ‘goody good’ kobolds caught not
> willing to die for The Cause are quietly shipped off to this camp, or
> to another. Less mess, less fuss, and most important for the SJE’s,
> less distraction for the masses for the MAIN goal of transforming the
> Waterworks into a kobold paradise on earth. No matter how many kobolds
> have to die to make it happen.”

Finfin nodded. “So I see the Political aspect. Prominent attacks of the
SJE leadership, beyond just decreasing their overall power, decreases
their political hold on the larger population.”

The Foreman squinted up at the elven officer. “Fancy Pants elf has it
right,” he grudgingly agreed.

“Thank you,” Finfin replied dryly. “But I do not envision anything less
than a generational long effort of undermining the SJE strength enough
to tilt the population power balance sufficiently to allow for Upwinder
aligned kobolds to actually succeed in an uprising and a civil war.”

“Not needing to!” the Foreman happily exclaimed. “That takes us to the
Prophecy!”

At his urgent wave, a kobold with a headdress of eagle feathers and six
pointed stars stepped forward, and intoned, “And, lo, the clouds shall
come down, and walk among you. Let this be a sign to you of the Time of
Travel. Your toil in the valley of muck shall be at an end.”

The kobold stared curiously at the Lightning Bolt around Ben’s neck, and
the multi pointed Valyan Star around Laurelin’s, and the silver locks
adorning not just Tramma, but also Laquendi. “There should also be
representatives of the Silver Dragon of the Night Sky.” It squinted at
the silver haired ladies and asked plaintively, “Are you they?”

“Figuratively,” the silver-haired Drow emphasised slowly, “I can see how
that connection can be made. Si shilta qe di wer draushum di wer
thurkear svant.”

Tramma’s eyes widened as she heard Laquendi’s statement. “Sweets,” she
exclaimed softly, wonder in her voice, “I’ve said it before, and I’ll
say it again – we silver haired girls have GOT to stick together. I’d
LOVE to hear more of that… particularly without the… uh… dialect
specific features of our kobold hosts.”

“Silver hair… this silver hair,” the Foreman amended, “means that to
dragons, kobolds sound like ignorant hicks. Something we kobolds must bear.”

“Whomever said ‘talk is cheap’ understood the value of their own
discourse, but neglected to mention that communication is priceless,”
commented Laquendi. “I understand your speech easily.”

Tramma nodded, and was about to launch into a linguistic study when her
pal Lomi none too gently elbowed her in the ribs. Returning back to the
immediate task at hand, Tramma continued, “However, as both a bard and a
recent convert, I have some additional insight into the lyrical term. Do
you mean the moon? A particularly close friend of a few of us is a High
Priestess of Bitan, She Who Dances in the Circles of the Moon. She’s
back at our main camp; I’m sorry I didn’t know that you’d want to see
her. And then there’s me, but I am only a recent convert to the Bitani.”
She gently pulled out her lunar themed necklace, and all of the kobolds
nearby hissed in appreciation at the sight.

“Do not let the SJE see that,” the Foreman advised Tramma. “They blame
the Silver Dragon for much of their failures, and occasionally come into
our camps searching for and destroying any shrines they find to the
Dragon.” He then shrugged, and added unconcernedly, “So we rebuild them
soon after. Requires a lot of moving to place that is LESS on fire
sometimes, but it keeps us busy.”

“That does rather raise a pertinent question,” Finfin interjected. “If
the SJE know that these prison camps contain a concentration of their
society’s outcasts – no offence intended…” And a nod from the Foreman
indicated that far from being offended at being SJE outcasts, the
Upwinders rather considered it to be an honour. “Why do the SJE’s not
come in and exterminate everyone here?”

“That IS a worry we must always face,” the Foreman sighed. “And it is a
tightrope we must always walk. So far, the answer is Power. And
Politics. It would take a good amount of the SJE Power to muster the
forces needed to make a complete job of it. But they COULD, if they
thought that we were enough of a threat. But as far as they understand,
we Upwinders are peace loving nogoodniks not good for anything, and
certainly no threat. And we are not a drain on society, making ourselves
useful in crafting things that the SJE’s need. Like tools. And weapons.”

Lomi snorted at that last point. “Your captors allow you to build weapons?”

Again, the Foreman shrugged. “They think that we don’t know how to use
them, and we’re quite diligent at keeping the records updated accounting
them. Of course, our PARALLEL books show that we keep one weapon and
tool for every ten that we make for them, but they are so pleased we do
good work for them they never look close enough to realize that - good
times.”

“So you must have quite the arsenal built up,” the scout mused.

“Enough to arm not just every Upwinder in camps,” the Foreman agreed,
“but for a lot of Upwinder sympathetic kobolds still out there.”

“And unless you show yourselves to be an obvious threat,” Finfin
pondered, “the SJE’s are not willing to expend the Power and resources
it would take to suppress you.”

“As well as it being Bad Politics,” the Foreman agreed. “That effort
they could NOT hide from the masses, and it would embarrass them,
proving that they are NOT all powerful, and that they made a mistake
trying to confine us to camps. And those sympathetic on the outside
would know that they were next.”

Now it was Jeyshann’s turn to speak. “So you’re safe enough in these
camps for NOW,” the Cat Priestess mused, “and are clearly connected to
what’s going on on the outside.” A nod towards the extensive namelists
and status boards confirmed the source of her opinion. “But how are you
actually going to travel when the Time of Travel comes?”

The Foreman, for the first time that day, looked less than confident.
“There, we are hoping Tall Folk can help.”

Finfin glanced significantly at the Abbot. “There are,” the elf stated
flatly, “ways where we CAN open up a temporary transportation portal. It
would not need to be a Permanent working, but even without that, it
could transport a LARGE amount of kobolds in a single working.”

“That is the sort of magic we were hoping you Tall People could
provide!” the Foreman agreed, perking up considerably at the notion.

Finfin nodded. “Which is why you want to undermine the SJE’s with these
Hit Lists. Not just to undermine their strength, but also their
political grip on the population as a whole. Not to allow Upwinder
sympathisers to be able to succeed in overthrowing the existing Order,
but to allow them to join in an Exodus to somewhere else.”

The Foreman nodded eagerly. “With us spreading the word to sympathisers
in the population to get ready, and to report to one of our camps for
the Exodus when the time is right,” he agreed.

“After we have taken down the SJE’s enough to allow such a migration to
a rally point here to succeed,” Finfin added. “But I am not at all clear
just where this migration would GO.”

Tramma quite visibly elbowed her pal Lomi, and the tall scout, rubbing
her ribs, stepped forward. “Cap’n? Abbot? Mr. Foreman? A bunch of us put
our heads together while everyone else was planning the big EHPK hit
yesterday, and we have a suggestion.”

“I am all ears,” the Foreman replied. “If I was a fleshy type like the
fancy pants elf here with his particularly BIG ears. But do tell; you
have my attention.”

Lomi gestured to a nearby table, and at the Foreman’s nod, began to
unroll a map. “Me, Commander Laquendi here, and a few others,” she began
to explain, “spent a few months taking care of a bunch of problems in
the Forest People land, away on the other side of the Great River. One
of the problems we had to… handle… was a particularly nasty crew called
the Green Death Kobolds.”

Laquendi nodded, bemused at how these creatures seemed to keep intruding
themselves into her present life, even though all were dead when she’d
last seen them. Those still walking, despite death.

“We thinned out their numbers a whole bunch,” the tall scout continued,
“and Laquendi and her Keerytes wiped them out all over again when they
came back as zombies. Now, they’re not ALL gone, but there’s some pretty
nice kobold territory out there with a lot fewer than its usual number
of kobolds, perhaps for the taking. And if you happened to wipe out the
last of the Green Death tribe while you were at it, I think the locals
would consider the Upwinders to be a major upgrade from their usual
Green Death nasties.”

“You can assure us of a welcome?” the Foreman asked suspiciously.

Lomi looked awkwardly over at Tramma, who answered on behalf of her
fellow Wild Woman of the Woods. “By ourselves right now? No. But if the
Abbot sanctions it, we could talk to the local Honeyskin tribe, and
maybe have to run it up to the Forest People council as a whole, and
formally ask permission.” Shyly, she glanced over at Ben and added,
“This would require some high level diplomacy for you to sign off on
whatever treaty we’re able to craft… which will probably mean a formal
guarantee of Stone House people help if the situation with the kobolds
turns nasty.”

“I believe the colloquialism is ‘they owe us one’ for the
near-elimination of the Green Death, and re-opening one of their trails
that was previously blocked by a scion of the Spider Whore,” suggested
Laquendi.

“Relations between Upwinders and local humans would NOT turn nasty,” the
Foreman mused. “Not started by Upwinders, at least.” If he HAD eyebrows,
something in the tone of his voice suggested that they would be raised
as he considered Laquendi before turning back to Lomi. “Easier and
cheaper to live in peace with neighbours. But can understand Tall Folk
neighbours being cautious, and wanting treaty with Upwinders, secured by
you.”

“That is a predictable desire,” Finfin agreed.

“I will want to hear more details about this Green Death swamp that we
might be able to liberate from the current nasty inhabitants,” the
Foreman added.

“Yessir,” Lomi agreed, tapping her satchel. “I brought along a lot of
details with me, expecting you’d want a complete report. We scouted the
region quite thoroughly, and anything I can’t answer, I can find out.”

“And what of the Waterworks and the nasty kobolds who remain?” Jeyshann
hissed.

The Foreman shrugged. “Whatever you desire.”

Jeyshan nodded, and looked speculatively at Ben. “A Fimblewinter would
certainly take care of the ecological disaster. I daresay Huntress
Pilinde would like that.”

“A bit of a case of trading disaster for catastrophe,” the Foreman
quipped. “But if it gets us outta here, what happens to the SJE once
we’re gone is of only academic and philosophical interest to us. If they
choose to embrace the bad stuff, the joke’s on them or something.”

The Foreman nodded, and rounded on the Abbot. “So no more time for
strong silent treatment from Big Holy Man. Are you willing to commit
your forces to the weeks of effort it would take to make this happen?
Not just knocking over more SJE concentrations that we keep finding, but
sending your diplomats to Forest People to see if this Promised Land is
available, and making available Teleportation Circle to help make this
happen?”

Both Ben and Finfin looked sharply at each other. Nobody yet had
specifically mentioned that particular spell. The Foreman’s grasp of
Arcane Magic was truly well beyond what one would expect to find in a
“run of the mill” kobold.