Post by mcian on Jun 6, 2023 12:31:19 GMT -5
Archon Chumsol of Papua surveyed the scene: long lines of men, women, and some children stood in single file in front of Pier 39, his headquarters. The sun had risen a short while ago but already the heat and humidity had become intense. The male workers, some actually laughing and smiling briefly to one another, had pick axes and shovels slung over their shoulders, while the females and children carried thick canvas sacks over theirs. All carried canteens and small packs containing their lunches. At the end of the line was a string of pack animals of all sorts, each sporting large, but empty, canvas sacks.
Standing at the head of them was the straw boss – a handsome but preening, ill-tempered, man named Toby Gillens, holding a map in one hand while a sword dangled at his side. He addressed them. “Today we go again into the deserts for the glory of Papua! Believe that each of you is a vital member of the heroes who are making this town something that become the envy of all Sosaria! Far too long have you all been neglected and ridiculed for so called “back water town” ways and customs! You will show them! We, will show them! They will come to admire you secretly even as they spout hate. Let us go forth and bring back a haul of ore that shall break all previous records.”
A few half-hearted cheers rang out and then the group slowly began to march along the path out of town to the north.
Chumsol wiped his forehead with a rag already saturated with sweat, shaking his head slowly. I don’t know how much more of this we can take! We are down to half the size we were weeks ago and the healer’s is filled to capacity! Is this worth it?
He walked down the steps to make his way to the healers’ hut. When he arrived, one of them spoke to him, her eyes reflecting sadness. “We lost two more today, sir. They are healthy but something seems to be draining the life from them. We saw no wounds, only a wasting sickness.”
Chumsol nodded. “I think it is time I spoke to our friend Anthraxas. We need a break, a holiday at least. It does us no good to rake in this wealth but only a few who benefit by it. I must make new deals and perhaps find new buyers as well – some less demanding than our current Benefactor’s.”
“That is a wise decision, Archon,” she replied, smiling. “That may give us enough time to discover the source of the illness – besides over work!”
“Indeed! Thank you for your efforts!”
He proceeded back to Pier 39 to speak with the “Benefactor” Anthraxas, as was now his title. He was upstairs pouring over maps at a table. He looked up and smiled at seeing him. “Ah, Archon! Up early I see! Good!” He returned his gaze to a map and pointed. “This is the area for today. I sense it will be a rich haul for us,” he confidently remarked.
“That is what I wish to discuss with you,” he said, seating himself at the table. “Our people are almost at the end of their tether; they need a break, some effective rest. Already we have had casualties. A healer told me there is a sickness of which they do not understand and cannot cure fully. We need time to find out the source. I plan to order this period of rest tomorrow. So do not plan to send out workers then.”
Anthraxas muted a disapproving scowl and immediate comment. Instead he smiled and his face lit up happily. “I was thinking the same thing, Archon! It so deeply distresses me to see the pain this all has caused. Forgive me for being inconsiderate, but I have not been entirely unobservant.”
“Or helpful, I might add. The fresh meat and vegetables you bring in at your own expense is testimony to that – not to mention the fine wine,” Chumsol remarked, smiling.
“Thank you. You are too kind,” Anthraxas bowed slightly. “So, let us give them some rest. My own men will take care of the loading of the ship, as well as bring in some fresh delicacies during this period of rest.”
The Archon rose from his seat. “Excellent! We shall see to it. Thank you for your understanding and compliance with this request,” he stated, giving a respectful nod before departing.
Anthraxas sighed. I suppose we all could use some rest. Forcing the issue is not wise. I will have to defer to that fool from time to time. Must not rush things.
Standing at the head of them was the straw boss – a handsome but preening, ill-tempered, man named Toby Gillens, holding a map in one hand while a sword dangled at his side. He addressed them. “Today we go again into the deserts for the glory of Papua! Believe that each of you is a vital member of the heroes who are making this town something that become the envy of all Sosaria! Far too long have you all been neglected and ridiculed for so called “back water town” ways and customs! You will show them! We, will show them! They will come to admire you secretly even as they spout hate. Let us go forth and bring back a haul of ore that shall break all previous records.”
A few half-hearted cheers rang out and then the group slowly began to march along the path out of town to the north.
Chumsol wiped his forehead with a rag already saturated with sweat, shaking his head slowly. I don’t know how much more of this we can take! We are down to half the size we were weeks ago and the healer’s is filled to capacity! Is this worth it?
He walked down the steps to make his way to the healers’ hut. When he arrived, one of them spoke to him, her eyes reflecting sadness. “We lost two more today, sir. They are healthy but something seems to be draining the life from them. We saw no wounds, only a wasting sickness.”
Chumsol nodded. “I think it is time I spoke to our friend Anthraxas. We need a break, a holiday at least. It does us no good to rake in this wealth but only a few who benefit by it. I must make new deals and perhaps find new buyers as well – some less demanding than our current Benefactor’s.”
“That is a wise decision, Archon,” she replied, smiling. “That may give us enough time to discover the source of the illness – besides over work!”
“Indeed! Thank you for your efforts!”
He proceeded back to Pier 39 to speak with the “Benefactor” Anthraxas, as was now his title. He was upstairs pouring over maps at a table. He looked up and smiled at seeing him. “Ah, Archon! Up early I see! Good!” He returned his gaze to a map and pointed. “This is the area for today. I sense it will be a rich haul for us,” he confidently remarked.
“That is what I wish to discuss with you,” he said, seating himself at the table. “Our people are almost at the end of their tether; they need a break, some effective rest. Already we have had casualties. A healer told me there is a sickness of which they do not understand and cannot cure fully. We need time to find out the source. I plan to order this period of rest tomorrow. So do not plan to send out workers then.”
Anthraxas muted a disapproving scowl and immediate comment. Instead he smiled and his face lit up happily. “I was thinking the same thing, Archon! It so deeply distresses me to see the pain this all has caused. Forgive me for being inconsiderate, but I have not been entirely unobservant.”
“Or helpful, I might add. The fresh meat and vegetables you bring in at your own expense is testimony to that – not to mention the fine wine,” Chumsol remarked, smiling.
“Thank you. You are too kind,” Anthraxas bowed slightly. “So, let us give them some rest. My own men will take care of the loading of the ship, as well as bring in some fresh delicacies during this period of rest.”
The Archon rose from his seat. “Excellent! We shall see to it. Thank you for your understanding and compliance with this request,” he stated, giving a respectful nod before departing.
Anthraxas sighed. I suppose we all could use some rest. Forcing the issue is not wise. I will have to defer to that fool from time to time. Must not rush things.