Constitutional Peasantries


After they have left Celina Ossian asks Silhouette "Have you walked up the Faiella-Bionin? Because if you haven't, I suggest we start with that."

Silhouette smiles faintly, "No, I have not. Most of my travel here has been through Trump." She extends her hand, "I put myself in your hands."

Ossian takes her hand, and they leave the city. On the way up Ossian tells Silhouette about all the strange things that have happened along the stairway. Although he is an excellent storyteller she might get the feeling that he exaggerates a bit.

GMs? I guess they need to stay the night in that creepy cave. Does anything happen on the way up?

Both Silhouette and Ossian have creepy dreams but nobody gets a manifestation. The night passes otherwise without incident. Ossian and Silhouette have the option of a brief summary check-in with Corwin or possibly threading with Folly and/or Conner (given OOC time constraints). What would Ossian and Sil like to do?

I'm fine with summary... Olof, anything you'd like to do? Summary and then off to the Green?

Summary sounds great. Does Corwin have anything to say? Any advice on raising armies in Shadow?

Yeah, Corwin has quite a bit of technical advice about how to do it. Both in terms of using the Pattern to actually raise an army and in using the Shadows to lie for you to get a better presentation. Ossian has more experience with the Pattern, which is still not a lot, but Sil could also make a creditable military leader. Neither of them is going to be great with it, not yet, and Corwin can only tell, not show, in Paris.

But you've got to start somewhere.

When Ossian and Silhouette are done with Corwin, Ossian asks "I guess we are still going with a smaller number of warriors? I wonder if we could find people keen on getting revenge on the monks?"

"They've undoubtedly harmed people in their time," Silhouette nods. "Hatred is a wonderful motivator."

She considers this for a moment, "Can your use of Pattern find people of such inclinations?"

"I don't know. We could walk to areas where they are likely to be found, I guess. Of course, that is also areas close to the monks..."

"Then I suggest we be wary," Silhouette says, smiling. She seems to be enjoying this - although, it's difficult to tell when/if she enjoys much of anything.

"Can I lend you my Power with this Walk... or is it a solitary endeavor?"

"We can take turns. In the beginning you can help by doing some of the less subtle work." Ossian says.

"That will be good practice for you. And I will be less exhausted. When it gets more subtle, I guess I will have to take a bigger part of the shifting. Besides, you are better at taking care of any sorcery we encounter."

"I'll let you choose where we stop for the evening," Silhouette says with a wry grin. "I suspect my choices will be too spartan for your liking."

She pauses, thinking. "Shall we locate some transportation? Be it animal or mechanical?"

"Ah. I always preferred the animals. But mechanical is good, considering where we're going. " He holds out an arm. "Not yellow," he adds.

Silhouette takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Yes. If the mechanical fails us, we can always find something decidedly more... equine."

She glances ahead of them, letting her newly acquired instincts to guide them forward.

Ossian squeezes her hand and smiles. "Don't forget smells. And sounds"

What vehicle does she find?

Silhouette leads them away from the bustle of the city into a more rural environment. The seasons shift slightly from late summer to autumn - the world turning from greens to dull orange and reds over time. The buildings thin out until they are more sporadic and distant. Wheat and corn fields become more prevalent, eventually hidden behind thin lines of wind-break trees. The road itself remains the solitary constant, paved and smooth, allowing for a leisurely walk.

As they round a corner, they find an old open-back, six wheeler - some kind of military truck converted to more domestic means. It's the kind of vehicle that could be driven into the ground a hundred times and still have life left in it. Ugly as sin, but reliable. Crates of various goods line the tarp-covered back.

Silhouette breathes out slowly. "If I'm correct, the keys should be somewhere under the front seat."

Ossian nods. "Practical." He brushes away the worst dirt from both the driver and the passenger seat with his hand, and locates the keys. "Shall I drive, while you bring us closer to the monks?"

"That'd probably be for the best," she says, climbing up into the passenger's side. "Are we headed somewhere specific, or simply seeking them out?"

"We want to miss them with only a little bit, remember. To find their enemies. Our to-be allies." Ossian says, before he starts the car he kneels down and feels the ground.

"See if you can change the road first. Concrete. Softer than here, with a tinge of cobalt."

Silhouette nods, "Of course." She concentrates on the upcoming road, changing the consistency of the tarmac. The painted lines also change, shifting from deep yellow to an umber. A slight smile curls her lips, "This is a profound experience."

Ossian grins. "Just for the exercise, I will make some changes too. See if you can see what I do? We do not want to work in different directions in a tight spot."

Then the road signs start to change, from very stylized to more detailed symbols.

It takes Silhouette a moment to readjust her conceptualizations, but soon enough the signs begin to incorporate Latin symbols and words into their descriptions.

"Do all changes need to be this subtle, or can then be far more profound? Or does that cause disruptions?"

"You can make larger changes. But as Bleys would say: Then you probably change more than one variable at a time. Which is dangerous."

"It is of course a matter of style too. I go for precision. " Ossian says.

Precision is Silhouette's bread and butter, so this suits her quite well. She keeps adjusting Shadow slowly, surely, guiding them toward their goal - to find a realm close to the Enemies of their Enemy.

Finally, up ahead, the shape of a vehicle comes into view. The first they've encountered on the road since they began.

Silhouette relaxes her thoughts, letting the world become one with them.

For Silhouette, the following would drive her Shadow-walk:

(1) The Klybesians at large and as a whole. People who have been harmed in someway by their operations. However, she'd want somewhere close to Greenwood, if at all possible - since that's the ultimate goal.

Ossian will try to guide them close to Greenwood, but not quite there.

(2) Silhouette hopes for a regimented organization/culture who are looking for a 'savior' from the oppressive Klybesians... the Second Coming to lift them out of darkness.

Ossian and Silhouette take a while to work out how to do the travel and shadow-walk thing. It's easier for one of them to drive (mostly Ossian, apparently) and the other to shadow navigate. Several days of transit along roads leads them to an increasingly dry and windy set of Shadows where they can see handsome train tracks and elegant automobiles driven by olive-skinned men and women. Silhouette thinks they might have some form of internal combustion, but it may also be a magitech hybrid.

There are Klybesian symbols on the buildings, and Ossian thinks they may have arrived.

"So now we have to find the rebels. First some risk assessment, I guess. I see no guns, but they should be here. Sorcery?"

"It is definitely a possibility," Silhouette says. "I would require a closer look at their machinery to determine that, however. I believe that would be worth the time."

Silhouette executes a simple experiment, and then another. It takes longer than she expected, but eventually she comes to an inescapable conclusion. Something has affected the magic of this shadow. It is drained or diverted or tied up somehow. Or else it was artificially high before and that prop has been removed.

For a people who look as if they are handy in a war, they don't seem to actually have an army, and the civic authorities seem to be related to the local centers of worship.

Silhouette pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling drained from the experience. "The shadow has been altered in a fashion I cannot determine, but the normal flow of magic is... disrupted. A most unpleasant sensation."

She turns to her companion, "That may be our key to this realm. Perhaps as liberators. Offering them access to their old ways."

Ossian nods "We can provide them with ways of getting to their oppressors. What could disrupt the flow of magic? Is it concentrated somewhere?

"That sounds dangerous." he adds with a grin, as if it was something positive.

Silhouette shakes her head, "As the effect is so diffused and wide-reaching, it would be next to impossible for me to determine a centralized locus. I do know of methods of suppressing or channeling mana, but in a more limited area. Obviously, our Adversary has acquired some method to do so on a grand scale."

She glances out the window, observing the world and its people. "If we could unshackle them from this, I suspect they would be exceedingly grateful. I suggest we find a leader or religious authority. They may be able to assist us to that end."

Her eyes scan the buildings for any architecture that would suggest a civic or religious center.

"Maybe the non-official religion." Ossian says. "The Klybesians are likely running the main churches. But let's have a look."

Ossian leads them around a corner. There is a big church. How Klybesian does it look?

Not at all like the churches either Silhouette or Ossian has seen in Paris or in Abford. The design of those has generally been cruciform with tall roofs, a single tower, and in the case of older, larger Parisian churches, reinforcing buttresses. This building is shorter, appears to be more of a square or rectangle than a cross, and instead of a single tower, has two domed towers at corners on the front.

However, there are symbols in front of the temple and some of them remind Ossian of the Klybesians. The building is busy and seems to be the seat of government, the town square, and a schoolyard all wrapped into one.

There is a young priest or functionary of some sort near the door. He doesn't look like a monk.

"He looks like a candidate for conversation... and conversion, perhaps," Silhouette says. "I defer to you, though. Your personality is generally less...off-putting... than mine."

"I am not sure all our cousins would agree." Ossian says with a grin. "But I will try. This church might be a bit too tied to the government, so I will try to be careful. Also, look at those two symbols. Very close to ones I saw in their monastery."

Ossian, with experience of architecture and stone work, tries to see if the temple has been added to, or if all the design is original. (For instance - were those symbols there from the beginning?)

Silhouette follows his gaze, examining and memorizing the symbols. She is also learned in architectural language and symbology, However, her specialization is more in military application, so her observations lean more toward recent improvements and alterations, rather than social aspects.

It looks to Ossian and Silhouette as though the building went through an upgrade of some kind a while ago: long enough that the new work and decorations has had time to age in, to lose the fresh newness and need a bit of a touchup. Perhaps a decade or more. Some of the carvings date from that recent upgrade, but many are original to the building. Others may have been smoothed over or removed from the building.

Silhouette might guess that in the aftermath of a war, someone redecorated the building in the style of the victors, which was close enough to the style of the defeated that they didn't need to tear the whole building down to make the point, just alter things to suit the taste of the victors.

"The Laws of Progress have been employed here," she says, trying to hide the respect in her voice. She may have matured her philosophies regarding the Grand Design, but cannot help but appreciate observing their principles practiced. "I suspect that these people will have hidden old relics or items from prior to their defeat somewhere inside. If we see signs of the silent rebellion, we'll have found our allies."

Ossian nods. "This is a good place. Shall we be 'honest' and tell them we are travellers from afar, curious about their customs and traditions?"

"I believe that would be the best opinion," Silhouette says, ascending the steps. "I am sure they will be interested in sharing their history with us. And from there, we can determine if there is more to be had from them."

Ossian approaches the young man with his best smile. He tries to intuit good greeting customs as well as he can. "Good day, sir. As we are from a place far from here, we are curious about this temple. Or is it a temple?"

Silhouette remains at Ossian's side, deferring to him, as if she is a subordinate or mate. She studies the young man, silently, watching for taletell signs of nervousness or falsehood.

He seems confused for a moment, then pleased to see them. "Oh, Northers! This is a place of meditation and study. More a school than a temple. I am merely an initiate, but our chief scholar is from your northlands. Our shores are open to all who who are peaceful, and all who attend to their duty to the Merciful One.

"If you are here for the Abbot’s lecture on photovoltaics, it’s not until mid-afternoon..."

"Photovoltaics?" Ossian says raising an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting. Maybe we will attend. What is the name of your knowledgeable abbot?"

Silhouette can't help but perk up. Such glorious words are like oxygen to her. She waits for Ossian's question to be answered before commenting.

"Father Turnip," the acolyte says confidently. "We are lucky to have him. He comes from a monkastary in the Northlands, and is an amazing teacher. I have learned so much of mercy from him, myself."

Silhouette pauses, blinking. "A most unfortunate name for a wiseman. I do hope it is an issue of transliteration." She forces a smile, "I look forward to gaining Knowledge from him."

The acolyte looks confused. “I may have mispronounced it. Foreign names are not my area of expertise. Where are you from? You should see Brother Sayyid if you wish to reserve seats for the lecture. We welcome all, but have limited seating."

"We have been many places, but I come from a little place at the river Ab." Ossian says with a smile "We have been investigating old customs in different places. For comparison. Do you know of anyone here well versed in old, even outdated traditions here?"

Silhouette smiles warmly at the young man, "Indeed. We're interested in the progression and evolution of your traditions. We're both scholars of history. True history. Thank you for offering this chance at Illumination, my friend."

He nods. "Of course! Our mission is to educate. There are so many who have much to learn about Mercy and the Source of all Mercy. We are lucky to have so many opportunities here. But there are no scholars of ancient history here, my friend, there is too much to learn from the new to pay attention to the past."

Ossian smiles "Of course. Will we see you at the lecture?"

Silhouette nods lightly, "Yes. Progress before Past. This is wisdom."

I think the lecture would be fine to go to. Angry young students are a good recruiting base. Maybe we should be going to the harbour, to see who they trade with.

If there's some time, I think a beer hall and/or coffee shop would be a good place to frequent... as those usually host people with open opinions.

[OOC: There are no beer halls. The People do not drink. Other than that, you all can choose from your many options…]

So on to some kind of coffee shop then, Ossian will still want to pass by the harbour too. (He wants to see if they trade with anyone suspicious.)

Hey, they find a coffee shop nearby to the harbor. They can sit and talk to people and watch the harbor.

The people here are deferential to the authorities; there's not a lot of unrest. The monastics are new, but are accepted by the religious leaders, and they seem very learned in the Way of the Merciful One. There are a few who are not so free in their praise, but they seem more guarded. They seem to recall the glory days of the living Sultan, before he ascended into heaven.

Ossian would like to ask someone of the more reserved people about the Living Sultan. He is curious, and it could be a good starting point.

Maybe this coffee shop is the wrong place to find angry young men.

Silhouette stays at his side, demure and soft-spoken, as she assists him in striking up a conversation. She knows young men are usually more open around a beautiful woman, trying to impress her.

Ossian tries to talk with a group of the less praising men. He will start innocently looking for stories about the living Sultan under the pretense of collecting stories.

His mother was a great Noble of the Hamaaj who converted to worship of the Merciful One and his father was the last of the Old Gods from Before the Merciful One came to the bring Peace to the Lands. The Sultan, though many feats of skill and military prowess rose to rule a small kingdom of the nomads of the deepest desert, at the center of the world. By his magics, cunning, and military prowess he first united the desert, then swept through the nearby cities, re-consecrating them to the service of the Merciful One, who in their shallowness and frivolousness, they had forgotten.

He saved all the lands - faithful, heathen, and apostate from the black sands, and also locked out his Mother's people, the hamaaj, so that they could not corrupt the corruptible again. He was acknowledged Sultan by the will of the people, but he chose not to stay and rule. That he left to men of the deep desert.

Then he went to his father's kingdom, in a land none may find save by his grace, to continue the fight.

It is said he will return, some day, to judge us all in the name of the Merciful One.

When asked about the Sultan's war record, it is very specific, and while the young men were not there, everyone seems to believe it is factual and relative current. Not more than a generation ago.

Ossian listens with interest. A slow realisation comes to him. "What kind of magic did the Sultan wield?" he asks. He starts to sketch something in his sketch book while listening. If Silhouette looks it is a picture of cousin Edan.

Silhouette's eyes widen slightly at the picture, the connections being made. She remains silent, but it's obvious she has met their strange cousin.

The men of the coffeeshop sort of grin at each other. "There are tales that he had uncanny abilities, but the main magic he wielded was his ability to inspire men to feats of riding and military might that the unbelievers of the coastal regions could not match."

Another of the men. "The children's tales call him a fire magician, and suggest that he learned such from the evil Magian Fire Worshippers of the deep desert, before slaying all who would not convert to follow the Merciful One."

No one in the shop seems to think that that description sounds less than merciful...

Silhouette glances over at Ossian to see if he might recognize this. Turning to the speaker, "And worship of the Merciful One... does it remain mandatory on threat of death, even to this day?"

Ossian gives her a short nod, and waits to hear their answer.

The man looks at his coffee. "You will have to ask a jurist. I have not heard of a trial anywhere for heresy, apostasy, or schism, not for years."

The man who told the fire magician story looks less certain. "The new jurists they have at the temple school might be good to talk to. They come from the frontier, so they're closer to the heathens."

Silhouette nods lightly, "I see. We'd heard that there may be Troubles soon, Hopefully, such claims are unfounded. Perhaps, the jurist knows more." She pauses, lowering her voice. "Is he agreeable, this jurist? Open to those who wish Enlightenment, yet remember the old ways?"

Ossian smiles "Is this a new war you are fighting?"

The man looks down. "No one wants war, but there are some things that are worse. And no one trusts the Eastern Lords not to get everyone involved in their mess. The North isn't a new war, it's not civilized enough to have a war, and it's not valuable enough to civilize. Nobody much as been successful at that. Apparently the scholars that arrived are from there, though. I don't know what it is about the Land of Peace. Our fiercest theological impulses come from the inhospitable desert and the equally unwelcoming ice fields."

"Sounds very strange indeed." Ossian says with a smile "Maybe hardship makes you more pious. When did the scholars first arrive?"

The man nods. "Living daily with the fear of massacre at the hands of savages who do not even acknowledge the mercy all around them makes one more pious, I suspect. At least, for the survivors. The scholars have been communicating with the Alcalde and she invited them to visit some years ago. That went so well that they sent full-time scribes and scholars to her court."

Silhouette casts a glance over at Ossian, raising a brow -- wondering if he's heard this term before.

Ossian shakes his head just slightly.

"Have they ever spoken of expanding this conflict?" she says to the man. "Or warned of other people beyond their realms?"

Ossian stays quiet.

The man takes some time to reply, as if he's trying to remember such a thing. "Not that I have heard. The ones who give grand speeches are scientists and inventors, and seem most interested in making our lives better. Their theologians are quieter. However, they do not come to this cafá, so their political and metaphysical positions are unknown.

"A pity," he adds, grinning. "Such leads to a lively cut and thrust of argument and opinion in the square."

"There are open debates in the square?" Ossian asks. "Sounds fun."

"Indeed. A rousing debate can provide much insight into one's society," Silhouette says, sipping her spiced tea. She pauses, weighing the next words.

"May I ask... and feel free to dismiss this inquiry... but have they actually made your lives better? Or do you still yearn for the Old Ways? Despite the benefits of Progress, the Past can hold greater, more sacred truths that should not be forgotten."

He snorts. "I was a child when the Sultanate marched in from the deep desert and removed the corrupt and decadent Amir of Gathium. It was for the good of all, except perhaps those who had been perverting the teachings of The Merciful One. The city welcomed them as liberators.

"The new clerics are of the same tradition as the Sultanate, and teach us the wisdom of his ways."

Ossian frowns and looks at Silhouette. He will ask no further questions for the time being.

Silhouette bows her head, "Wisdom is the finest wine." Although she smiles at the man, she covertly glances around the table, studying the faces. While the elders might think this way, perhaps the youth did not.

This is one of the younger men in the room.

[OOC: To give you a bit of history that the locals will have trouble explaining in these terms, there was a long-term civil war going on in this shadow between the urban coastal people (who had advanced to petroleum based society, including early airplanes) and the desert nomads, who were horsemen with great skill at swords and a somewhat difficult alliance with the efreet.

The Black Road War came to the shadow, smashed the city-people, and most everyone else united behind the nomads, who were pretty generous in peace, if they didn't cut your head off.

Oh, and Edan was the leader of the desert nomads.]

The religion of this place doesn't sound at all like the Klybesians, but there are clearly Klybesians here. Perhaps they're being sneaky.

Silhouette turns to Ossian, "Do you think we shall have time to listen to the debates? I do enjoy vigorous rhetoric. Seems a shame to miss it while we are here."

Ossian nods. "I hope so."

"We would not miss them for the world," Silhouette says, smiling. "Thank you for your candor today. It is most refreshing."


When Silhouette and Ossian have left the cafe, he takes her arm. "Seems we have no rebellion to start here. Edan wouldn't approve of that either, I guess."

Silhouette chuckles faintly, "One never knows, dear cousin. Even the dimmest ember can start a fire given the opportunity." She waits on the sidewalk, allowing the street to clear so they might cross. "As for Edan, I suspect he'd be most pleased to know his influence resides here."

The street heads northward, eventually splitting into a traffic circle. The central island is dominated by a raised fountain, where a small crowd is beginning to form. Vendors offer food and drink to the assembly, competing loudly for attention.

"Shall we join the throng? Or shall we move forward with our search in Shadow?"

"I am pretty sure the Klybesians are here. I'd like to find out what they are doing. Let's go to the lecture for starters.

"If we want fighters, maybe we should go to the desert an play on our kinship with Edan?"

"We are here for a Purpose," Silhouette says. "Otherwise, I doubt the Pattern would have guided our journey to this Shadow. I do wish Edan were here. He might offer us further Insight"

She heads across the traffic circle and joins the swelling crowd. "I wonder if this is a public affair. If so, we might want to lend our voices to the discourse. At the very least, we'd attract attention. Be it positive or negative, I do not know."

"Let's do the lecture. I can try making a sketch of Edan later. Maybe it is easy in this place. Although we will have to be careful what we say on Trump with the Klybesians around."

Silhouette cocks her head, "Can they listen in or detect your Trump use?" she asks in a quiet voice.

Realizing she's attracted the attention of a stall owner, she orders two shawarma analogs from them - the spiced meat and vegetables vaguely familiar. She hands one to Ossian, "Exactly how powerful are these people?".

Ossian shrugs. "I do not know. They do seem to know a bit too much about Trumps for my liking. And about me."

He takes the roll, and chews "Frog." he adds "Or some lizard. Quite nice.

"I have learned that I should be careful what I say on the Trumps. That Caine just might have a hand with the Klybesians makes it even more so."

Silhouette wrinkles her nose, "I see. And can those not of the Blood utilize them then? Ah... but that's the point isn't it? They seem to possess a more than passing knowledge of our blood."

She strides closer to the fountain, looking for anyone in ceremonial or official-looking garb - the most likely candidates for a debate.

"I wonder if it would be possible to create a coded Trump connection, so that eavesdropping does not matter? Any ideas?"

The square is busy, and the fountain serves as community well, gathering place, and the anchor for the market. There are minor priests around, wearing clothing similar to that you saw at the academy, but they don't seem to be teaching. Still, they don't seem unapproachable.

Ossian looks at Silhouette. "No debate right now. Should we start one?"

Silhouette chuckles softly, "It certainly would garner attention. Yes, let us Enlighten the masses." She cocks her head, "What subject shall we broach? Our adversary's weaknesses, perhaps?"

"We could. And their search for the Sultan's blood."

"Agreed. At the very least, it will cause a stir," Silhouette says. "Perhaps draw some 'unwanted' attention from the people we seek. Let's us see if we can pick a fight, as it were."

She glances around, picking one of the priests. Striding up to him, she offers a welcoming smile, "Sir. Might we trouble you today? We have questions regarding your teachings."

Ossian grins to himself. But stays quiet waiting for the priest to answer.

He bows towards her, his hands pressed together. "Of course! One of the core missions of our order is to answer questions!"

The second one bows as well. "Indeed, and also to question answers."

The first brother nods at this. "I am brother Jaques and this is brother Alois. Shall we walk and talk? I am afraid our northern bodies have not yet acclimated to your summer days."

"Of course. Thank you, Brother Jaques," Silhouette says, bowing her head respectfully. She falls in line with Ossian, "Is it much of a change from the north, then?"

Brother Jacques leads off. "Our land is cooler, and it snows every winter, but we are still a coastal peoples. The Merciful One looks upon us all, and blesses the realms of peace with the gifts of prosperity and good governance."

Jacques smiles. "My village, it has been at peace for a century, but because of where we are, people here think we fight with heretics and apostates daily. In reality, we seldom even see them. And much of the fighting is done with words rather than guns."

"Would you enlighten us on what the conflict with the heretics is about?" Ossian asks politely.

"Indeed," Silhouette says. "What instigated this conflict? How are their philosophies so antithetic to your own?"

Brother Jaques thinks for a moment. "The clash of civilizations is a long-running one. The barbarians of the north are like great herds of deer, unmanaged and pushed to and fro by the circumstances of their condition. They are not incapable of learning long-term strategic thinking, or of making treaties and working for the greater good, but they seldom do so beyond the level of a tribe or at most a confederation. When they do, they sweep their neighbors towards us and we resist."

Brother Alois speaks, "Or we settle families in empty land and the barbarians come back a decade later and want to know why we took their empty valley."

Brother Jaques continues. "It was the main conflict, that of the cultures, for many years before the Desert rose against the coastal cities."

Brother Alois. "We are glad you asked about it. One of our goals here is to help re-focus the mighty warriors of the Southern Desert lands on the conflict with the barbarians. You should be spreading the will of the Merciful One, not fighting each other."

Brother Jaques nods. "Precisely."

Ossian frowns "So what makes them heretics?"

Silhouette nods to Ossian's question, "Indeed. Many cultures declare other 'barbarians' simply to justify there actions. However, many barbarian cultures are highly advanced. Perhaps more so than supposedly dignified ones."

"Well, Heresy makes them heretics, and there are many kinds as there are fish in the sea, and yet all are the same in their denial of the reality of the Mercy of the Creator. The obedientiary does not wish specifics of heresies discussed outside of the classroom, lest our poor grasp of them all the citizens to lead themselves to error."

Brother Alois nods and turns to Silhouette. "It is easy to mistake some technological advance for either increased prosperity of the land or for closeness to the merciful one. For instance, the southlands have invested in steam locomotives and high-speed motorcycles. Are such places somehow less advanced than a monastery, where men of faith struggle to understand the Merciful One?

"The question answers itself and implies the answer to the question you asked. Barbarians are those who are lacking in understanding of The Merciful One, and we are bound by the duty of mercy to help educate them."

"Illumination is the core of all Progress," Silhouette says. "Or, it should be, within reason, Otherwise, one invites Stagnation into the Collective, thus doom it to entropy. Mere Contemplation without Inquiry and Reevaluation, however, equally invite Stagnation. Regrettably, monasteries and other centers of spiritual enlightenment too often focus on the esoteric trivialities of the High Order than the Fundamental Principles of Progress and the Greater Good. For all their faith, such centers of learning are swept aside by the barbarians, as they are too busy looking up at the sky for the ethereal than the soil at their feet for the corporeal."

She smiles politely, "Perhaps this is part of the Merciful Ones' teachings, as well?"

Ossian marvels at Silhouettes use of the language and stays quiet.

Jaques smiles, as one would at a bright student. "The teachings of the elders on the lessons of Peace and Mercy are what they are, child. And Progress is difficult to understand, since we perfect ourselves by making ourselves more like the Merciful One. How can it be measured, when the mind of the Merciful One is ineffable?

"You portray centers of enlightenment as if the scholars and students there are encased in amber; fossil relics of the struggles of a long-ago day. Were this so, it would be easy to see a pattern of advancement through the ashes of the barbarian destruction of enlightenment. This does happen, but to assume that it is inevitable or possibly desirable is to apply false limits to both people and the Merciful One. Hope not for barbarian cleansing, for it does not have to lead to new heights.

"And yet, we each in our way, attempt to perfect ourselves, even the barbarians. And none should be denied the opportunity to become more perfected. I would rather teach barbarians than be swept aside by them."

Alois nods. “You should attend our seminars; the Order always has room for inquisitive laypeople, and opportunities for those willing to devote themselves to discerning the truth."

Silhouette seems pleased by the reply, nodding throughout. "I would welcome such an opportunity. The desire for Enlightenment rules the very core of my being."

"Are you from the North also followers of the Sultan? Or is that only the people from here?" Ossian asks.

"When we are here, we are subjects of the Sultan. But the Sultan rules only his Sultanate. Or did. He has been absent for many years. In any case, the North is a separate polity."

Alois looks over at Silhouette, "Do you plan to come to the symposium this afternoon? It seems as if you would enjoy it."

She nods, smiling politely. "Indeed. I'd enjoy the discourse very much. Enlightenment sustains me, and I never shirk the opportunity to drink from its well."

Alois nods and smiles warmly. "I shall add you to the guest list. What are your names again, citizens?"

"Dalfeen," Silhouette says naturally, "And thank you, sirs."

"Sigurd." Ossian says with a grin. "We will enjoy it. Thanks a lot."


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Last modified: 13 May 2016