8 Known as “the knuckles,” the gesture involves the raising of a fist with fore and baby finger extended as far as the first knuckle.
The gesture has origins at the Battle of the Scarlet Sands, where King Francisco I of Itreya, also known as “The Great Unifier,” defeated the last Liisian Magus King, Lucius the Omnipotent.
After this defeat, it was presumed that Liisian resistance to Itreyan rule would falter. Itreyan occupation of its conquests was as ingenious as it was insidious—a small group of marrowborn Administratii would move into the power vacuum created by the destruction of the ruling class, and through coercion and bribery, establish a new local elite with ties to Itreya. Local sons would be sent to Godsgrave to be educated, Itreyan daughters would marry local men, wealth would flow into all the right pockets, and within a generation, the conquered would be wondering why they resisted in the first place.
Not so in Liis, gentlefriends.
After Lucius’s death, a garrison of Luminatii was stationed in the Liisian capital, Elai, to oversee “assimilation.” Things went well until a cadre of elite troops still loyal to Lucius’s memory raided a banquet in the former Magus King’s palace. The Itreyan elite and Luminatii garrison were captured, lined up by the loyalists, and, one by one, castrated with a red-hot blade.
The captives were then released, the elite forces barricading themselves inside the palace and awaiting inevitable retaliation. Lasting more than six months, the Siege of Elai became legend. It was said the loyalists roamed the palace battlements, holding aloft their fists with fore and baby finger extended as far as the first knuckle—a taunting gesture meant to remind the attacking Itreyans the rebels were still possessed of their … equipment, while the Itreyan’s jewels had been fed to the rebels’ dogs. Though the loyalists were eventually defeated, “the knuckles” has entered common use by many of the Republic’s citizens: a taunting gesture intended to flaunt superiority over an unmanned opponent.
Chapter 6: Dust
1 Great Tithe marked the (approximate) halfway point between truedarks, and was one of Aa’s holy feasts, traditionally marked by gift-giving among loved ones. The first Great Tithe was said to have been the turn Aa gifted his daughters dominion over the elements. To Tsana, his firstborn, he gave the rule of fire. To Keph, the earth. To Trelene, the oceans. Nalipse, the storm. In return, the daughters gave their father their love and obedience.
It’s said Niah gave her daughters nothing, for the Maw has naught inside to give. But these are falsehoods spat by ministers of Aa’s church.
To Keph, Niah gave dreams, to keep her company in her eternal slumber. To Trelene, she gave enigma; the deep dark of the waters beyond the sunslight. To Nalipse, she gave calm; the peace in the storm’s eye. And to Tsana? Her firstborn who so despised her?
To Tsana, Goddess of Fire, Niah gave hunger.
Hunger unending.
2 It was not mud. Alas.
3 Naturally, the number three holds great significance in Itreya, and worship of the Everseeing is considered the official religion of the Republic. However, it’s interesting to note that even in other regions where worship of Aa was not as prevalent, the number three still holds no end of cultural significance.
Take Liis, for example.
In the turns before the Itreyan Colleges of Iron marched their War Walkers across Liis and conquered it in the name of the Great Unifier, King Francisco I, the Liisians had their own pantheon of worship—a trinity consisting of the Father, the Mother, and the Child. Children born on the third turning of the month were seen as blessed. Thirdborn children of thirdborn children of thirdborn children were inducted into the Liisian clergy without exception. And finally, the Liisian kings were said to have each possessed three testicles—a sign of their divine right to rule.
Though initially disputed by jealous fellow rulers, this claim was ultimately proved by King Francisco I. Upon capturing the last Liisian king, Lucius the Omnipotent, at the Battle of the Scarlet Sands, the Great Unifier removed the monarch’s scrotum with his own dagger and found three aggots staring sadly back at him from within the pouch.
Though grateful credence had been given to the legend, Lucius the Omnipotent was less than pleased with Francisco’s method of verification.
Albeit briefly.
4 A purveyor of top-shelf Itreyan smoke, fine brandy, and the most extensive collection of naughty lithographs in all of Godsgrave.
5 A group had set off into the Whisperwastes some three turns prior, leading a long train of unladen horses. Given the weapons on display, Mia picked them for tomb-raiders, but in fact, they were pilgrims from a fringe-dwelling faction known as Kephians. The group had been convinced by their leader—a man named Emiliano Rostas—that the time of great Keph’s awakening was at hand, that the Earth Goddess would soon rise from her slumber and bring the world to an end. Only those faithful gathered at the Navel of the Goddess (which Emiliano supposed was to be found in the Ashkahi desert) would be saved.
When it was pointed out that the journey might be more hazardous than just sitting around waiting for Keph to show up, Emiliano replied that he and his followers were beloved of the Earth Goddess, and she would allow no harm to befall them.
One can only presume the dustwraiths that devoured their corpses didn’t receive the goddess’s memorandum.
6 The Hearth—a fire, eternally stoked by the goddess Tsana within the belly of the slumbering Earth Goddess, Keph. The blaze attracts the righteous spirits of the dead, and grows brighter and hotter with each soul that enters the afterlife. Itreyans believe the numbers of the dead will one turning be so vast the fire will wake Keph and the world will end.
Wicked souls are denied a place by the Hearth, left to wander in the cold to be consumed by Niah. Sometimes, these wicked souls are sent back to the living world by the goddess to plague the righteous and the just. Called the “Hearthless,” they are common figures in folklore, lurking in abandoned tombs or sites of terrible evil, abducting babies and deflowering virgins and causing unjust and illogical increases to taxation.
7 Distilled from the defense mechanism of deep-sea leviathans, ink is a hallucinogenic sedative. Injection of the drug induces feelings of well-being and loss of muscle control (in the wild, leviathan use their ink to flee predators—a faceful of the stuff usually makes even the hungriest whitedrake cease caring about mornmeal for a time). Long-term users, however, suffer a loss of empathy, and in cases of severe overuse, complete detachment from reality.
Francisco XV, last king of Itreya, was an infamous inkfiend. Under the influence of his addiction even during the uprising that dethroned him, Francisco XV was reportedly thoroughly amused as his personal guard declared him traitor to the people. His queen, Isabella, also an addict, was said to have laughed uproariously as Francisco was hacked to pieces in his own throne room.
Presumably she stopped the gigglefits when the Republicans turned their blades on her and her children.
Chapter 7: Introductions