#boar lore

Alice is traveling to the Bavarian forest to search for where Murro went after leaving the circus. Traveling to remote stations at the border between Germany and Austria, she arrives at the small town of Grafenau.

However, the name in the letter isn't recognized by the station attendant, commenting how many lumberjacks left after the railroad deforested the area.

An old man in a tavern proves to be Alice's salvation after three days. A foreman of a bygone lumber camp, he identifies the crossed-out name as the old name of the deforested region.

Years ago, in that very region, they found Murro huddling against his boar in the winter, so they took him to camp. They wondered if he was a fugitive but they trusted the boar. No man of ill heart could earn the love of such a beast.

From that day onward, Murro was a friend of the loggers. Though he refused to log, or stay in the camp, he would help out with mules and tools. One time, he stopped a young lumberjack from eating poisonous mushrooms. When he was away, he would wander alone in the mountains, his dear boar by his side.

As Murro's one companion, a friend of Murro was a friend of the loggers. Some of them started calling the boar Ironhead, which made Murro smile the first smile they had seen.

Even then, there was a distance. Murro had been more at peace than he ever was, but there was still a distance. He was so close to happiness. But then the railroad began construction.

In contrast to the loggers, who made sure to take their time, avoid the saplings, live in harmony with the forest, the railroad carved its way through, leaving nothin gift. His sanctuary was taken away, yet again, by human greed.

So he sent the letter, the same letter from his Sixth Letter, and departed from the logging camp, possibly going to Nuremberg, possibly not. Later, a foreign man asking of Murro arrived, a man undoubtably sent by Mike Morton, bearing the uncomfortable past of Murro with him. He did not find him.

As she explores the ruins of the logging camp, it hits Alice that it was the closest thing to a home for Murro. It was once his.

First of all, we got the most important lore: Boar Lore. At least some people call Murro's Boar Ironhead. Given they can't talk, we cannot confirm if it's their name, and Murro's reaction is ambiguous enough, but I think, for now, we can consider Ironhead a name for them, the same way Emma Woods and Lisa Beck are equally applicable to Emma.

Moving on from Boar Lore, we see how Murro's childhood abuse left him struggling to connect to other people, even when he found connections with them. Fitting for his role of the "knight" or "hero," Murro is constantly helping others, but downplays help for himself. In a way, it's a warped transformation of how he was raised to perform, neglected to create a character. This resulted in Murro, in spite his efforts, contributing to the Closing Night Disaster: His efforts to keep Mike stable only worsened Mike and set up the disaster with Margaretha, Mike, and Joker. Due to his trauma, he cannot connect enough to stop the disaster. In his Third Letter, Orpheus argues that Murro lacks a sense of self and compensates with his hero complex, believing it will give him value (Murro's Third Letter). I don't think this comprehends Murro's hero complex, given, as this shows, Murro saw the lost forest as his hime, in his own way. But I don't think Alice's evaluation that Murro never found true belonging is correct either. I think, looking at how Murro aided Mike in Closing Night at the expense of Margaretha, or his lyrics in the Hullabaloo songs ("the third one says 'we're family / we shall not part our ways'"), I think Murro is a selfless person, too selfless. His hero complex comes from he was 'untouched' by industry. It wasn't a struggle with belonging, or an identity criss, but the. culmination of who he was. Heroes are for other people.

Oddly, the loss of the forest reminded me of the Mediterranean Expedition and the acquisition of Delphi. Something I've noticed recently after the Midsummer Tidesong Event and Cryptic Notes was that there's a theme of unrestricted technological or industrial advance being connected to great social or individual devastation. For example, Leo's failed examples to compete in both the textile and weapons industry, Eternal Light Jospeh represents the dangers of generative AI, and there is now an association with the acquisition of natural treasures like Red Coral and the Mediterranean Deal. It seems that the acquisition of resources (including Delphi) costs others their lives, livelihoods, and homes, which we see in Murro losing his new home to the railroad industry. Some of this is expected due to JS' location but some of this is surprising nonetheless.

I find the comment that the loggers believed Murro had to be a 'pure soul' because of Ironhead's trust incredibly fascinating. This is, awful as it was, Bernard's intention with making Murro the Wildling (Murro Sixth Deduction). A 'pure' soul, 'untouched' by humanity. It's also interesting in conversation with some of the other Survivors and Hunters that work with animals. Eli, Ann, Melly, Orpheus, Luchino, and Jeffrey, and the upcoming Kai all host deep connections to animals, some of whom are part of their playable kits. But, while all of them are deeply sympathetic, many of them have also done horrible things as products of tragic circumstances. Their souls are not 'pure'.... unless we are defining the 'purity' of the soul incorrectly? Perhaps purity is not the deeds one does, but the ability to chase a goodness?

I'm curious to see how Murro's story will intersect with Mike's story, how he avoided it until it was too late, or whether Murro arrived at Nuremberg as his friends suggested.

The snow dusts the temple, covering the roofs and the people of Kronschwinge hurry from their homes to the well known familiarity of the giant temple. Brushing the falling snow from their coats.

They are silent, slowly walking up the stairs and a few kids look up at the tall columns that hold the eaves and give the whole front the reminiscence of an ancient temple. Clashing with the spiralling towers resembling old gothic churches. A well known clash of historical eras in the whole city of Kronschwinge.

The Divine Flock isn't old, everyone knows that. Theirs is a new faith, young and strong. Barely two hundred years old has the modern history thrown every hardship at them humanity can come up with.

Showing that the Divine Flock can endure, that they can suffer for their Angel when the being is finally allowed to slumber.

Unser ist die Bürde nun,

sie zu schultern durch Schnee und Eis,

durch dunkle Nächte und kalte Tage,

bis die Flügel wieder gespreizt werden

um uns aufs Neue zu behüten.

Their voices are clear and their minds are at peace. Their Angel gave them a holy order while its feathers moult. The families stand in the cold marmoreal space, over them the glass dome that is covered in snow, bathing everything only in the glow of the indoor lamps. Make it feel like they are cut of from everything. Like they are the only ones in this world, like only their breath will become mist once they step outside on the plastered streets.

Dangerous thinking. Dangerous enough to feel safe. They are never safe. They must always be vigilant, alert of the many Vultures that threaten their holy way of life. Worse than Strays, Vultures are wolfs in sheep clothing.

And they won't be sleeping like their Angel, those wretched beings will work tireless to weaken the Divine Flock from within, they will poison the young minds of the future.

So the fathers hold their sons hands and the mothers the delicate hands of their daughters, to raise them to be steadfast in their faith at all times. Their calloused fingers hold their smooth ones, this so easily manipulated future, those little hands that will one day do the same for their kids.

The warm glow of the lamps and the power of their united song fills the cold hall, echoes thrown around by the high ceilings, caught underneath the stone arches. More things to make the Divine Flock seem older than it actually is. But to them it doesn't matter. The Divine Flock will reign Kronschwinge until the temple falls. Until the last Divine Bird has lost its wings and their song will grow silent.

Wir werden unter den Flügeln des Engels

auch im Tod weiter über euch wachen.