Spirits in the Material World

[Bjorn]

Returning to Japanese, Bjorn replies, "Being from outside this world, I know nothing of this realm of Fire, except that there is a deed which needs doing, a wrong that must be righted, which will draw the attention of the great Fire upon me.  If there is anything you can tell me which might illuminate my way, o Flame, then my gratitude will be yours.  

"If it would be of any assistance, these humans here have spoken of a Church, which strives to cut them off from the spirits.  I think, but do not know, that this Church will lie at the heart of that which I must do.  If you can tell me of this Church, the words they speak and the actions they take, then too, I will be grateful."

[Brian]

"Hoo, hoo," the spirit chuckles, sending bright sparks to lick against the cauldron overhead.  "Such a simple thing.

"And your questions share an answer; it is the church that you must stop.  They corrupt and separate us from the people, they misuse the gates."  The fire dies down, thoughtful.  "You will need to learn enough of their ways to understand what they do," it says with another mild flare.  "You must know what the gates mean, and how the worlds are tied.  And you must find those who I feel are tied to you."

The ember-maw twists into a grin.  "You must open the gates for all.  Advancement is not always Progression.  This, I am allowed to speak.  These clues will tell you more.  Enough, when the time comes.  Then, you must find a man in Anabara.  He calls himself...."  The fire hesitates.  "He was built, sent here as a beacon.  His name is Holmes."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn bows his head.  "Your words will be my guide," he says simply but with gratitude.  "Though I have no right to ask more of you, would you speak more of the gates?"

[Brian]

"Flux points, where the veils between the many shadows of this place lie.  Masks, behind masks.  A string of pearls, illusion, with a truth buried deeply within the shroud," the fire crackles cryptically.  "This is what I am allowed to offer you."

[Bjorn]

"Thank you," Bjorn replies gravely.  "I am called Gestur Bjorn.  Might I know the name of the one who has been of such assistance, before you return?"

[Brian]

"The name I am called is," and then he says something that it takes Bjorn a moment to figure out translates into, 'the light of a flame against the darkness before a dawn', which is pronounced something like 'Kerwhizzle'.  Then the spirit fades away, leaving only a mortal fire behind.

"What....  What did it say?" Din asks anxiously.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn squats still, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.  "The spirit told me that there is no easy peace with the Church, and that their quest must be stopped," he says, slowly.  "The key lies in the gates; to know them and to free them is to win.  I was also told that other spirits like myself walk this world, and I must find them if success is to be ours.

"But before we might deal with the demands of the future, we must face the needs of the now."  He stands, brushing his hands, and turns about to face Din. "Let us go somewhere and speak of the situation you face.  To know how we might earn us a tomorrow, we should consider the exact demands of the Church, and their strength in this place."

[Brian]

"Y...yes," Din says, nodding quickly.  The crowd parts around a single elderly looking man.  He's probably in his late sixties ... which would seem to be a good lifespan, given the relatively simple-looking living conditions.

"Welcome," the man says in a creaky voice.  "Gestur, I am the one who is often," he gives a wry smile, "called the leader of this village.  I am N'Boru.  Let us retire to my lodge with Din, to discuss this."  He turns his eyes on the rest of the villagers.  "This is no simple undertaking.  I think hunting needs to be tended.  And are there not other chores...?"  He trails off with a pleasant, grandfatherly laugh, dismissing and reassuring the people that all will be well.

The men and women melt away to tend their chores, but a number of flowers are tossed to Bjorn's feet.  Despite his tired voice, N'Boru has a spring in his step as he leads the way to his lodge -- one of the grass huts, not really distinguishable from any of the others.

The interior of the hut is dim, but the light coming through tiny gaps all throughout it make it look like the walls and cieling are speckled with tiny constelations.  There's a few clay pots and woven baskets filled with various things.  Herbs, a stack of arrow-heads, some twine....  All sorts of things.

There's also some bedding -- furs, looks like.  Aside from that, some simple cushions protect sitting tribals from the ground.  N'Boru sits first, and Din waits for Bjorn to sit before joining.

"What has Bjorn told you so far, Gestur?" N'Boru asks.

[Bjorn]

"Bjorn and I have never spoken.  It was through another spirit that the pact was made, that I would ride his body.  What I know comes solely from Din and from the words of the fire spirit."

[Brian]

"The church men," N'Boru says simply, "want us to become more like them.  They want us to build towns like theirs, and give up our lifestyles.  They say that we must accept their offers, and pass through their terrible gates."  Din shudders, while N'Boru's lips compress together in a flat line.

"The gates," N'Boru says after a moment, "are possessed by mighty spirits.  They have the power to change men, to make them more, or make them ... less.  We fear that this is a ploy on the part of the Church men to make us into something else entirely.  Something simple that benefits them, like the thralls we know they turn their criminals into."

[Bjorn]

"Do the Churchmen already have a foot in this land?"

[Brian]

"It is perhaps two days walk to their towns from here," N'Boru says with a shake of his head, gesturing, well ... some random direction.  With no sun, it's hard to way which way is north, or east.  "They have great numbers and strength, but until recently stayed in their lush, forested area.  We don't know what's driven them out, and why they persecute us."

[Bjorn]

Tilting his head back to consider that, Bjorn makes a clicking noise with his tongue.  "Have they given you a time by which you must answer their demands?"

[Brian]

"We have two more weeks before they bring their warriors and their ... guns," this word comes somewhat awkwardly, "against us."

[Bjorn]

Guns.  Muskets?  Repeating matchlocks?  Thin red line, or have they learned the machinegun lesson?  Hrm.

Out loud: "Have you seen them wage battle?  And what arms do your people carry?"