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Board & Conquest 8: immigration policy
🕑 Added 2024-12-19 08:09:13 +0000 UTC------
When Lord Wepwawet sent out Mistouffe to preach to other communities, Victoire thought that the werecat would struggle to convince a handful of people. A story about a god gracing a small village like Narc sounded like an unbelievable tale.
She certainly didn’t expect her to return with a group larger than all of Narc’s population combined!
“I told you I’d succeed!” Mistouffe boasted once Narc’s delegation arrived to greet the newcomers outside the town. “Told you!”
“You most certainly did,” Victoire replied as she surveyed these new pilgrims. Over half of them were werewolves bearing a white paw mark on their chests which she recognized as the Snowstep Tribe’s emblem, but the group also included werebears, werecats, wereowls, and even a handful of humans. Most of them came with bags filled with food and belongings, weapons, or beasts of burden. “This is quite the heteroclite group you gathered.”
“Oh yes!” Mistouffe smiled ear to ear, having taken the remark for a compliment. “I visited every tavern for miles! Everybody listened when I talked about the free food!”
Victoire struggled to keep a straight face. “The ‘free food?’”
“The magical lettuce!” Mistouffe said, confirming Victoire’s fear. “Goreville brought his whole tribe to see Grand-Loup, but everybody else came to try out his cooking!”
These people are settlers, Victoire thought grimly. Quite a few of them observed the corpses of dead wyrms and fortification debris with wariness. They probably expected a safer place with plenty of food to welcome them with.
A handful of these visitors stood out from the rest: a grey-furred werewolf with a blue cloak bearing the Snowstep’s emblem and carrying a steel sword; a young human woman with long red hair woven in a tress, a bow, and bearing the famous Roynimalia’s white ranger outfit; and a female silver werefox.
The latter’s presence surprised Victoire the most. Werefoxes were the closest in appearance to humans thanks to their innate shapeshifting abilities, and this one was no exception. She appeared as an elegant young lady with pale skin, grey eyes, a mane of silver hair falling on the side of her shoulder, and white robes that seemed to meld with the snow. She also carried a strange metal fan inscribed with odd symbols.
“What’s wrong?” the werefox added with a charming smile and singing voice. “Has my beauty left you speechless?”
“I’m simply surprised to see a werefox around these parts,” Victoire replied before cutting straight to business. “My apologies for the mess. As you can see, we’ve recently fended off a magmorian assault.”
“Quite brilliantly too, from what I see,” the werewolf said, his lips stretching to reveal his fangs. “Can’t believe I missed such a thrilling battle.”
Stick around, and you might have your wish. Victoire had the magmorian and kobold prisoners chained up in one of the mines under close surveillance. The guards could easily cause a tunnel collapse and bury Jasper’s crew alive if they tried anything. It was a brutal countermeasure, but she wasn’t willing to take any risks. At least they said there weren’t any other magmorian groups for many miles.
Lord Wepwawet chose this moment to manifest his humanoid spirit above the crowd. His appearance was accompanied by gasps, shock, murmurs, and prayers.
“I can’t believe it…” the young archer muttered her breath, while the werefox stared at the divine manifestation in awe.
“Ah! So the werecat spoke true!” The werewolf leader immediately knelt before the apparition, with his entire pack imitating him soon after. “This is Grand-Loup himself!”
“Greetings, children of Verglane!” Lord Wepwawet replied as his spirit extended his arms. “I am Wepwawet, god of this land, whom some of you have called Grand-Loup! I am your god, and I welcome you to my abode!”
The werewolves all howled together in response, their voices so strong as to wake the dead. Their leader immediately offered the god his sword in a show of fealty. “I’m Goreville, leader of the Snowstep Tribe!” he declared with lupine pride. “All our life we’ve hunted in your name! Allow us to serve you in truth!”
Lord Wepwawet graciously accepted the proposal. “Today your faith is rewarded, Goreville. I sense a Champion’s heart in you, and in your companions Viviane and Renarde too.”
The young archer blinked in surprise. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m a god, Viviane,” Lord Wepwawet replied with a shrug. “What did you expect?”
“Well, you got me there…” The young woman chuckled. “Viviane sounds a bit pompous though, so my friends call me Vivi. I’m a scout and ranger from Roynimalia’s Lionsguard.”
“You have a good eye, Lord Wepwawet,” the werefox added with a polite bow. “I am blessed that the first god I meet is such a handsome one.”
“My, thank you mortal,” Victoire’s god replied with a hint of vanity in his voice. “I’m happy to live up to the tales.”
Victoire resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She should have figured that a god with such power would have an ego to match. “A Roynimalian ranger, you said?” she asked Viviane. “Were you trailing the magmorians?”
The archer nodded in confirmation. “My boss sent me to look for signs of their activities. I was investigating local sightings when I crossed paths with Mistouffe.”
“About time you fence-sitters started paying attention,” Goreville complained with a bestial grunt. “The magmorians have been raiding us since the season’s start.”
“And their attacks will only worsen,” Victoire said. “We have captured prisoners and learned about their motives. We’ll be happy to share our information with Roynimalia.”
“Indeed,” Lord Wepwawet agreed with a voice booming like thunder. “This land will soon face a great calamity for which you must all prepare for. I call the faithful and all would-be heroes to fight under my banner!”
His demand was met with shouts and war cries from most of the werelings, with none louder than Goreville’s. Meanwhile, the werefox’s eyes lit up with calculating interest and Viviane scratched her crimson braid in embarrassment.
“Oh, thank you…” the archer said with a sheepish smile. “Mmm… this is embarrassing, but I’m kind of expected to return to Roynimalia to give my report…”
Goreville choked. “You’re refusing a divine mission?”
“No, no…” Viviane cleared her throat. “It’s just very sudden…”
Lord Wepwawet took it in stride. “Go forth and carry the word of my coming to your people, Viviane, and bear my gifts proudly. I have faith that your journey will bring you back to me in time.”
Renarde raised her fan and hid her mouth behind it, her eyes blinking charmingly at the deity. “It would be a pleasure to serve such an esteemed deity, Lord Wepwawet. Nonetheless, would you listen to a selfish prayer of mine?”
Lord Wepwawet’s lupine ears rose slightly. “I will always listen to my worshipers, but I may not grant all requests.”
“Of course, and very wise of you,” Renarde replied with a tone sweeter than honey. “I’ve been told by your werecat emissary that you granted her the gift of speaking and understanding all tongues.”
“What, you didn’t believe me?” Mistouffe protested in outrage. “I read your stupid formula!”
“I believed you,” the werefox replied kindly. “I simply asked if your master would mind sharing this gift.”
Your master, Victoire noticed with wariness. This one works for herself alone.
Her god’s squinting eyes told her that he had noticed that too, but decided to play along. “That gift is in my power to grant, but power comes with duties.”
“Of course,” Renarde replied. “I would be pleased if you would consider sharing this blessing with me. I swear you will find no greater devotee than me.”
“Then it is settled. I shall welcome the three of you as my Champions, and you shall guide the faithful on my behalf!”
While her god blessed his new worshipers with his holy light, Victoire turned to Mistouffe. “Did you find Kale?”
“I did!” Mistouffe nodded happily. “I shared your message too!”
Victoire scowled. “And?”
“And that’s all.” Mistouffe played with her whiskers. “He looked super embarrassed and said he would share the word back home, whatever that meant.”
“I see…” Victoire sighed. She had expected as much. “Let’s hope Lord Raymond will listen then.”
If a war with Lavaland was to happen, Verglane would need the Glarmes’ strength in the battle to come. Victoire could only pray that her former comrades would hear her message and take the field on their side.
If not… if not, she would have to confront them herself.
—--
And so, Narc began to acquire new inhabitants rather than bleeding them.
Wepwawet welcomed the Snowstep Tribe and other pilgrims into Narc, then quickly put them to work at both repairing the town and improving it according to his specifications. They had thankfully come with enough tents to host everyone, and enough workers that everyone could contribute. Wepwawet was especially pleased by his three new Champions.
Not only were they all good recruits, but Goreville was a Commander to boot! You could never have too many of those! Sure, Viviane would soon depart back to Roynimalia to make her report, but he had the feeling she would come back soon.
He also welcomed the opportunity to observe that distant city through her eyes. Any intel he could gather would come in handy, and diplomatic contacts might eventually lead to trade or military alliances. The more settlements he could gather under his wing, the better, and he would need to unite the region at one point or another if he hoped to fend off the magmorian invasion.
Renarde bothered Wepwawet a little more. He wasn’t blinded enough by her compliments—however much he appreciated them—to see the opportunism hidden behind them. He had quickly detected the scrolls she carried under her robes, all written in an ancient tongue unlike those spoken by Verglane’s locals, and guessed the reason behind her demand for a translation blessing. Her service and faith were purely transactional.
Wepwawet could live with that. All armies had mercenaries among their numbers, and he couldn’t exactly spit on a mage. He had more to offer than any mortals, and as one of his Champions, he would sense any potential betrayal coming.
I’ll need to be careful about the settlers too, Wepwawet thought. Beyond the risk of titan spies using the opportunity to infiltrate Narc, an influx of newcomers would inevitably lead to social tensions; doubly so since the new settlers mostly belonged to tribes with an identity distinct from Narc’s original locals. I should open up a school, or think about governance–
Ping!
A screen message showed up unexpectedly, much to Wepwawet’s surprise.
Quest: Proselytism I, completed! You earned the One Pack to Bind Them All Doctrine Miracle!
One Pack to Bind Them All
Rank 4 Doctrine
All your Champions and worshippers gain +2 STR/VIT within your realm of Influence. Maintenance cost: 1.
Wow! Unexpected, but welcome!
Doctrines were permanent Miracles that remained constantly active when cast until disabled. However, they also came with a maintenance cost that Wepwawet would have to pay each day to keep them active.
The benefits of One Pack to Bind Them All more than compensated for the mana price, so Wepwawet traded it for a copy of Protect Champion and quickly activated it. The boost would be so subtle that he doubted most would notice, yet provide incremental benefits.
That’s odd though, Wepwawet thought. The quest required a hundred worshipers to complete, and Narc houses a little over forty of them. And the new group is pushing fifty. Where does the discrepancy come from?
Wepwawet used his Opener of the Ways ability to check on his worshippers. He listened to their prayers, only to find himself surprised when he sensed a few coming from improvised cells located deep within the mines.
Some of the magmorian prisoners had started to believe.
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Comments
Publius Decius Mus
Yay! The soul of those faithful Magmorians is saved at last. Who would have thought that the sacrifice of their comrades will lead them to salvation? Truly, the ways in which Wepy works are mysterious.
George R
Thanks for the chapter
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