Since it’s been a couple of weeks since our last game, I wanted to ease us back in with some interesting questions about our main character’s backgrounds. Looking forward to what you folks come up with.
Mizzle
There are many legends told about the Gallimaufry and its scholar-philosopher founder who befriended the whale-turtle and established the city on its back. What is one of those legends? Is the story true or merely a tall-tale? Do these legends effect the people of the Gallimaufry or are they merely laughed off?
Saraid
Each settlement in Harmony sends a representative to serve on the Senate, advocating on behalf of their community and working to improve Harmony as a whole. For instance, Senator Adra of Ifla is the youngest member of the Senate and has a reputation as a firebrand, though she is often saddled with the projects no other senators want to deal with. Who is the senator of Bell Town and what do most people of Harmony known them for? Do the people of Bell Town care for their senator, or are they a divisive figure? What was their worst blunder or greatest accomplishment?
Shiny, Tiny, and Whiny
With the northern frost encroaching on Trishenko, more and more folk flee the tiny village for places they imagine are safer. Who was the first person the Trimaldis brother knew who left for New Thule? What role did they serve in Trishenko that others now have to make do without? What friends or family did they leave behind?
The founding was well-documented, as expected from a bunch of history-minded scholars. They kept a record, now known as the “Ship’s Log”, which is only readable by the inner circle of senior librarians. Those who were there told their children some stories - but people forget, or feel embarrassed, or feel obliged to keep certain secrets.
Speculation fills in the gaps left by any incomplete truth. So there’s a tension within the population. As skeptical sages, they apply careful literary critique to even their own rumors. As ordinary folk, they want a story - any story - about where they came from.
Some fun stories!
The original founder is the giant turtle!
The original founder was secretly the Archmagus, who had a change of heart but was unable to escape the inertia of his empire
The founder was a relative or subordinate of the Archmagus who acted out of rebellion
The founder was a traveler from a faraway place, who used some amazing magic/technology to shield the Gallimaufry from discovery
The founder was a living book or a fictional character brought to life from a book, who wanted to make a place where all stories could be safe
The turtle is a god and the founder is its priest. At a moment of crisis, the turtle will take to the sky
But…
Click me to unfold this hidden section and learn the truth
The founder is immortal (whether by being an elf, an alchemist, or some other means - what might this be?) and has disappeared into the population, living as yet another scholar. They’re active in debunking this particular story, with well-argued points about why an immortal founder doesn’t make sense.
The inner circle know, but are doing their best not to trouble the founder too much. The founder in turn will sometimes dispense words of wisdom or make recommendations on problems facing the community. Some of these are good, reflecting the wisdom of centuries - and some reflect the founder’s older attitudes and outdated assumptions. The inner circle is sometimes frustrated by trying to figure out what to follow.
Of course, some of the other fun stories might still be true…
It was appropriate, in a foreboding sort of way, that the day Donal Cervoni left Trishenko, a lone dark figure on the road, the weather had turned to a sudden snowstorm, rendering the greening-grass ground white, and the air a translucent gray.
“You can’t go, Donal!” Whiny pleaded.
“Who’ll go exploring the old ruins?” Tiny asked.
“Who’ll sharpen Ma’s knives?” Shiny insisted.
Donal shrugged. “My Da’s not going anywhere. He’ll still sharpen knives, between trying to grow what can still grow.” He waved a hoof-nailed hand vaguely toward the outside world and the faltering fields around the tiny village. It had been a bad harvest this year, after that unexpectedly early cold snap.
“But there are only strangers in New Thule,” Shiny retorted. “And they say you can’t grow squash because of the bugs. And the elves won’t let anyone in the forest. And the folk who went there from Lost Thule smell funny.”
Donal snorted. “Least they grow food. And I won’t be the only one going … eventually. People are gonna have to leave here, sooner or later, if the ice keeps coming.”
“Leave … Trishenko?” That was Tiny, but all three brothers started at him, wide-eyed.
The deerkin scrambled to his feet from the shack floor. Erect, he towered over the brothers, small antlers scraping the ceiling, though his frame was slender, almost delicate, his fine fur totally unsuited to the increasing cold. “There’s not gonna be a Trishenko if it keeps getting colder, if the ice gets closer, if the snow keeps falling.” Donal’s ribs were visible on his sides. “I just – I need to take this chance, get to someplace warm.”
“What did your Da say?”
Donal shrugged, folded himself back to the floor to be more on a level with the brothers. “He don’t say much since Ma passed. Eleen tries to get him to open up, and sometimes he hugs Josh, and Della’s jokes sometimes get him to smile. But … he just keeps sharpening knives, as folk bring them, and putting on a coat to poke at the crops.”
The brothers looked at one another. The thought of losing their Ma was nearly incomprehensible in its awfulness.
“But we might not see you again. Ever.”
The smile on Donal’s face was small. “Sure you will. I’ll come back soon as I learn the lay of the land there. Maybe put lie to some of those rumors.”
“Like the tigers that prowl the fields?”
“And the lightning storms every day?”
“And the Ghost of the Archmage walking the hills?” The brothers all shuddered at that one.
“Yeah, like that.”
“But what,” Shiny asked in a small voice, "if they’re true?"
Donal shrugged again. "Beats being hungry here. "
The lone figure, now just a dark shadow, continued down toward the shore where, sometimes, boats still came. Behind, on the edge of town, a cluster of dark shadows, tall and small, all bundled against the storm, watched, until it vanished.
“We gotta do something,” Shiny said.
“What?” Whiny asked.
“Maybe … figure out some food that can grow on ice?” Tiny suggested.
“Something.” Shiny looked after Donal’s figure as it dwindled and faded. It seemed to pause for a moment, then was gone. “Whatever it takes. He’s the first, I think, but he won’t be the last.”
The remainder of the Cervoni family left for New Thule six months later, in a wan, cold springtime, after the death of their father. The Trimaldi Brothers never knew how he’d died, just that people whispered about it a lot.
No word of the Cervonis ever came back to New Thule, though sometimes traders who had been there passed through, telling stories of a harsh land of wild rumors, but where it didn’t snow quite as often.
The Cervonis left behind the better of their Da’s knife sharpening tools. “He’d have wanted that,” Eleen said. They were kept at the village hall, and people came and sharpened their own blades. Nobody could do it as well as Bentil Cervoni, though, so the knives were never as sharp.
Bell Town is just small enough and far enough from the capital to have an independent streak. Snuggling was not uncommon during the reign of the Archmagus and still occurs today. Nothing too dangerous, just tax evasion and some items falling off the back of the boats. Even in the lean times, the sea has provided and life went on.
With the rise of democracy, Bell Town added their voice to the mixed soup that is Harmony. Sometime they were a delicious cod, other times a stone in the bottom of the pot. After John Dory retired (a clam), they sent Joan Stevenson. Joan comes from a long line of dockworkers, from longshoremen to roustabouts and lumpers, part of the dance that is unloading and loading ships every day.
She is hard and coarse, smoking the worst cigars that you have ever smelled. Embracing the bull-in-a-china shop persona, she is long on strength/threats and short on tact/diplomacy. The town drinks to her health when she brings home the pork, and mutters excuses when she gores the wrong red cape.
