#staglore

(On a bench under the Copperleaf Tree in the ConsBio square, Rucker shares a story with Shakan.)

There is a story the Blacktails have told for generations, a story whose wisdom has escaped me for my entire life until now... There was a warrior of the Blacktails who is in many of the stories we tell. He is always portrayed as the hero, the most skilled of warriors and tacticians. If the gods were to make their way to the Blacktail mountains, they would have paid tribute to our Thoder. Or at least, that is the fervor my clan feels for him. But the story I tell is not of his many exploits, but of his end. Before any formal peace between goliath and men, the two races existed at odds. The mountain folk were pragmatic, slow to anger, and generally only reacted to the impulsive humans. One day, Thoder encountered a human hunting party and tried to calmly speak with their leader. He was not welcomed. Instead they attacked in fear, and they were killed swiftly and simply by Thoder.

(Some humans have spread rumors the tattoos of a goliath are tracing of their victims blood splatter, but this is untrue. Younger goliaths must wait until they are strong enough to defend themselves before earning their tattoos.)

News of this spread to the local justices of men and a bounty was placed on Thoder and the head of any goliath. Many years passed and more foolish human’s died encroaching our mountains. But eventually the human’s numbers outgrew the chalice of the valleys below. A trial was scheduled that would judge all Goliath in the eyes of men. An emissary was sent to inform the Goliaths. Thoder killed the emissaries' guards. The man knelt before the goliath and prostrated himself, arms outstretched, presenting his neck for Thoder to strike. Having seen no man do such a thing, he respected this small skinny man who would surrender so wisely and bade him speak.

They spoke for many days. Thoder never spoke of what was said, but it was obvious that Thoder trusted in the wisdom of this human. Thoder said his goodbyes and took the human back down the mountain. The human placed shackles on the massive goliath, and out of courtesy Thoder did not break them. He admitted himself to the trial- a prostration of his own, on the behalf of the Blacktails and all Goliaths. (This act is what enraged me throughout my life, up to only a few days ago.) The trial was held and its result was unsurprising. But something happened during the trial on that freezing rainy day. As the council read from wet scrolls, speaking of crimes for defending his homeland, the hills surrounding the human village were filled with song. Goliaths of many clans descended the mountains and sang funeral rites to Thoder, steeling his resolve as he stood naked.

Thoder was twice the size of the biggest human, and his strength was beyond doubt. He gave one last message to his people in the form of a cacophonous war scream, breaking the chains that bound his wrists. However, instead of escaping, he waited to hear the guilty sentence and was escorted away, never to see his clan again.

What happened to him no Blacktail knows, doubtlessly starved to death in a cage or beheaded. But from his sacrifice came a truce between goliath and men. The growing number of humans in the valleys below the Stag Mountain now saw that goliath not as cave dwelling savages, but strong and formidable and proud. By recognizing men and their laws, he forced them to recognize the goliath's claims as well. The bounty on goliath heads was then seen as a disgrace. Trading began between the two and both human and goliath prospered for it.

What I see now is that the result of the trial did not matter. It was Thoder's strength of courage to submit himself to them in the first place that led to peace.

I see Thoder's strength in you. You never hesitated when you got the letter informing you of Elder Gikandi's trial, your trial. Keep your head high, there is an entire generation of people, students, who will always remember you as the man standing for what he believes.

one two

pinch their toes

three more

chew their nose

five seven

Peel their dicks

ten then

crack their ribs

who will hear their cries?

who willlick theirthighs?

whovill thiz haiz?

One, two pinch their toes

whvullthzkaz

three more chew their nose

whvullthzkaz

five seven peel their dicks

whvullthzkaz

ten then crack their ribs

who will watch them dies?

who willpop theireyes?

whovill thiz haiz?

One of the earliest tenets the Hyldrown taught the first Wevir was how to respect the Wilds. First from the earth, the soil, the roots: the fae folk had arisen, followed some time after by the Wevir after the Stag God had raised the sky above, giving mortal people room to walk. The Hyldrown shared that when they perished or decided to move on to another plane they were absorbed back into the very same earth, where their magic and bodies could be recycled and be borne forth as mana for future generations to use. Thus, one does not live in the Wilds- they exist with them.

The first lesson of the Wilds- take not what you don’t need. Since the deep woods, thousand fjords, and high plains had everything one could need to survive, you simply took what you needed as it became necessary. But of course, the ease with which the Hyldrown could tap into and access the gifts of the land far exceeded the knowledge of the Wevir. And so as powerful storms and rooting beasts and manipulative deities made it harder to thrive, some tribes strayed from this lesson...

The second lesson of the Wilds- you are a guest, not a sovereign. Though all were born of the Wilds, the land had a will of it's own, almost a consciousness. While Virpresque itself cannot speak and move, the powerful fae-magics that pulsed beneath it's surface empowered not only the flora and fauna of the land, but also elemental animation of the inanimate- Trees That Move, the fiery Efreeti, even the very shadows themselves. No one could ever hope to contain or order these forces. But of course, pride lives within the veins of all mortals. And so as the desire to share your knowledge or beliefs with others grew and spread, more tribes forgot this lesson...

The third and final lesson of the Wilds- all good things end, and all bad things fade. No matter how terrible a tempest, no matter how sweet a spring, one must accept that the natural cycle of a tree is to start as a seed, grow, and fall. We cannot postpone or try to forestall that which comes. But of course, each of us in our way looks for ways to prolong the judgement, to avoid the clearing at the end of the path. And so as the fear of leaving this mortal coil without a memory left grew, most tribes ignored this lesson.

Inevitably, when the Kjollden invasions came, the Wevir fought desperately to defend their ways of life and traditions. And in the face of their furious fight for survival, nearly all the Wevir forsook their teachings- they ravaged the land to fill their stores and wage their battles, and this pride in fighting the storm brought about even more ruin.

Would the Wevir have won the war had they followed every rule of the Hyldrown? It is impossible to say. But many elders speak to the sadness at the heart of all Wevir at their abandonment by the Hyldrown, and what was lost. Many wonder whether the lessons of the Hyldrown can be retaught, relearned, shared to help slow the spreading darkness that seems to be infecting Virpresque.

In the history of any land, alliances and brokerages will rise and fall as often as the sun rises. In Virpresque, where civilized people started off as disparate bands of tribes aligned by family or geography, these groups were fewer in numbers but nonetheless developed over time. Once basic needs were met, such as as security and sustenance, the freedom was present for like-minded individuals to give greater time and energy to develop their ideals beyond simple professions.

As groups of villages, explorers, and artisans alike found common ground to ally with or share resources, so too did official leagues, guilds, and other bands follow. Each group has their own origins, practices, and secrets, with levels of membership delving deep below that which is known by public or whispers, and shared only with the most dedicated members of that particular guild.

One of the earliest such groups was the Light of the Dark Forest, a group dedicated to helping to clear and make safe the stretches of wild lands between tribes, be it from natural dangers, brigands, or other more nefarious things.. Though their official organization moved on many centuries ago, the legend of the Lighters is a popular one still for those who worry over noises in the dark.

And offshoot of the Lighters were the League of Terror Vigilant. Rather than adopting a posture of defensive building and structures, this band of monster hunters actively sought out and pursued those whispers of evil or shadow lurking creatures that may bring harm to their friends or allies. The League of Terror Vigilant, naturally, suffered from high turnover rates. Their official undoing, given their militant, self-determinatory ways, was at the hands of the power hungry Tiger King and the ensuing reign of the Dukes.

Beyond these specific groups, various guilds and orders for artisans and professions developed- the Silver Scales, the Calm Waters Sailing Company, the Harpers, the Order of the Tines, and various other noble companies came to be. But naturally, so too did less reputable, more ignoble leagues arose to balance out the weights.

The Open Hand is one of the oldest thieves guilds in Virpresque, whose reaches have extended far into Kjolligor and beyond. Actually membership is rare, with most of its “agents” operating as hired mercenaries. Having arisen from the ranks of the poor, the destitute, the downtrodden, they decided their outstretched open palms would be filled if not by charity then by subterfuge and chicanery. It is often said that those looking to find an agent need leave a request or a calling card, though again, with a group so secretive exact methods are hard to discern.

The Eyes of Night are another clandestine group that seems to exist more in legend than in reality: it is said that the eyes of night are constantly watching from all shadowy alleys, a slightly open closet door, or in the eaves of high roofed buildings. It is said that the greatest political upheavals or onsets of wars were sparked by anonymous notes or letters bearing the groups sigil- A white circle with a starred crescent moon forming the pupil.

An esteemed and aged establishment such as Bøfksamaur also is home to several groups and clubs, often formed amongst the different Conservatories. The students of Biose formed the Golden Rooters, made up of outstanding students who seek to find the new, the strange, and the mysterious in their explorations. The Conservatory of the Archives had a secret society known as the Phoenix Feathers. With their fervent belief that the Future is hidden in the Past, they’ve taken after the legend of Tsillichau, the Mad Phoenix, who prophesied in gouts of flames that were lost once the embers settled, and try to arouse the spirits of the deceased with magic. The students of Innovation have the ability to compete in contests known as the TIKTOK Consortium, where aspiring innovators must compete in timed challenges to try and complete assigned tasks.

One of the central tenets of Bøfkasmaur Academy is that all who live, work, and study under the monolith contribute to its future and continued independence. The tribes of Bofkaswan and those that followed the founding of village traded not merely for material gain, but to forward progress and knowledge. As time went on, those who vowed to dedicate themselves to learning would help this place become known as the greatest place of wisdom in all the Stag Lands. It would become indispensable and wholly vital to the very history of it's people. Without teachers and storytellers, culture cannot exist. Identity is based on our past. Bøfkasmaur IS Virpresque.

In light of this truth, students and faculty are judged and graded based on their ability to produce results. Now, Results do not inherently mean they who create or produce the greatest Amount of works are the most important. There is certainly a measure and point of quality over quantity.

Phelana the Magnanimous was one of the Archives greatest heroes, not merely because she wrote or translated the most scrolls of Collision Wevir tribes, but because she took charge and helped broker a lasting treaty that helped settle the Second Dukes War. Without her learning and understanding of politics gained as the Academy, who knows what may have happened.

Urvard the Plain did not write many plays in his long life. Indeed, his creative output during his time in the Conservatory of Virtuosity was what many might call "depressingly stagnant." But the years of quiet and solitudinous work that little gnome from the Elmirwoods put into his stage adaptation of the "Three Trials of Eonvair " reinvigorated a peoples in a time when Kjollden Laws were at their harshest against the Wevir.

These are two of the most well known graduates from the Academy. And while the impact of their accomplishments is likely greater than you are able to comprehend in your studies, know this: within every acolyte at the Academy there is the potential to create, discover, or ponder a great question, discover a priceless treasure, or bring into existence that which has never been dreamt of.

"For as long as people have existed, so have the Hyldrown. Even before we came about, the Fee folk of the forests existed as the first denizens of Virpresque. We know this from the countless legends and stories that have been passed down since ages before the Collission:

Eliev, the trickster popular in Wevir morality tales; the Skoba, the miniscule caretakers of the forest; the lumbering Iimostig, trees who can uproot and move about; the mares and shadowhags and other hylds of darkest night, preying upon wayward travelers. And of course, the Hyldrown themselves, humanoids with the power to disappear between the woods and their true home of the Gazyow Wilds- on a separate plane of existence. *chuckle*

The issue with these stories is that they cannot be true. As fantastic as these stories are to tell, as entertaining as it might be to consider that there are creatures of magical abilities controlling nature, influencing the course of our history... there is simply no evidence or logic behind them.

If the Hyldrown existed, why would they have allowed for the Great Razing following the last Duke’s War? Why wouldn’t tribes who hear whistling or whispers in the dark of the forest rally a party to root and hunt out a threat? Wouldn’t an all-powerful trickster deity have left some visible mark on Virpresque other than natural phenomenon that have valid explanations? Even our our Academy, here on this Maur, is said to be cursed by an infernal demon from eons ago that could spell doom for us all!

But Instructor, what about people who have seen things or, people disappearing without a trace. Isn’t it possible there’s something out there we don’t know about?

Now, I am certainly not saying that there is not mystery in the world. The forests, seas, and wilds of Virpresque and beyond have many uncharted areas that have yet to be surveyed. I am simply urging you, young students of Bofkasmaur, as you prepare to begin your studies in the Conservatory of Biose- before rushing off and assuming the Hyld stories are true, that there are great malevolent, mystical forces ready to sweep over the land- use your senses. Use your training. And trust that you will be capable of handling most anything you may encounter once you've concluded your studies here.

Except for feral goblins, yetis, and manticores. You cannot reason with those creatures, those will eat you alive.

The Academy of Bofkasmaur did not arise knowing what it was to be. The Stag did not come along, declaring this to be an important cultural center of his territory. Rather, like many other places, it had humble beginnings- as a random geological accident that spawned a monolith in an otherwise unremarkable stretch of southern Virpresque.

For generations, the Wevir avoided the towering mesa. Each tribe had legends or stories of malevolent beings that lived at the top. It became known as the Demon Maur, or lair. Tribes who made camp too close to the Maur became corrupted, and soon served the evil lurking in the tower of darkness. One day, while traveling through the countryside, a nomadic Wevir tribe was attacked by the corrupted Wevir. The nomads chief, Bofkaswan, was kidnapped in the fray and carried to the tower. Her brave clansmen, led by their gothi, battled their way to the top to confront the demon master.

After defeating it, the hellion offered Bofkaswan magical wisdom and riches in exchange for allowing it to return to the Nine Hells. Not wanting her tribe to be unprepared for future dangers again, Bofkaswan agreed. As the creature fled it left behind as promised a trove of otherworldly riches and wisdom, but also a darker mark that lurked deeper in the stone.

The nomadic tribe established their new home atop the monolith, renaming it Bofkas Maur, after their wise chief. Over the years, walls were erected and halls of learning were established. The reputation of the tribe for kindness and wisdom spread, and homeless travelers, questing scholars, and eager adventurers made the journey to the burgenoning Academy for wisdom, insight, or somewhere to start over.

Years later, as the Kjollden conquests washed through Virpresque, fleeing Wevir sought sanctuary at Bofkasmaur. No where was safe from the Tiger King, however, and eventually the conqueror had taken all of Virpresque save for the lands around Bofkasmaur. Knowing the Academy could not hold out against his forces, the chief of the Bofkas offered the King his tribes fealty and accumulated knowledge, which would better serve his rule than a smoking ruin. Ready for his conquests to be done, the Tiger King accepted, taking the chiefs word and his head, disbanding the tribe, and taking many of its treasures and magical relics, leaving behind "worthless" tomes and books.

Bofkasmaur Academy never again reached the pillars of prosperity it had once achieved. Through the fall of the Tiger King, the War of the Dukes, and other calamities, it has kept true to it’s mission of sharing and building knowledge. Students attend one of the Academy’s five Conservatories to learn skills and trades:

- The Conservatory of Innovation, focusing on alchemy and material manipulation “Iron Sharpens Iron”;

- The Conservatory of the Mystics, focusing on worshiping and understanding the gods “Seek Greater Wisdom”

- The Conservatory of Biose, focusing on understanding the natural world “Every Sunrise is New”

- The Conservatory of Virtuosity, focusing on artistic works and culture “Creation is Eternal”;

It has been many years since we've had the pleasure of your company back East, but trust you are still well thought of.

On that note, this letter is intended for your eyes only. I have no doubt that my lovely assistant has delivered it unharried and with the utmost charm and warmth that makes her such a pleasure to keep company with.

As you are no doubt aware, the past several years have been quite challenging for Mother. The recent squabbles with neighbors in the North were quite upsetting. I tell you this, Nerikk- the treehouse was nearly lost. Even in a backwater stretch of our lands, Marshal’s incompetence nearly ended up in disaster. He has been recalled to speak with Mother where hopefully he can be finally dealt with.

Unfortunately, mother’s wisdom and clarity on these situations has become compromised. Her frailty is greater than her strength. We suspect she will not survive the winter.

After speaking with DV and MF, it is our thought that change has become necessary. As one of the leaders of this family, your opinions and experience are highly valued. Indeed, perhaps it is time you took more of a role in the way the family is handled?

Let your thoughts be known. Kjollis Styrngge Trumfere.

-BS"