Malin

I think another issue is that we, as people within time, can't look at things happening before time without applying time to it. The very act of viewing and trying to understand it makes time a factor, even if it wasn't one for the gods and people living there at the time. I don't have time to go looking for the physics articles right now, but I remember seeing some scientists talk about time as one of the "room" dimensions. There is no inherent direction to it; it is we who impose the direction since we only perceive it as one way. It must have been disconcerting for people who were alive across the threshold, but even today, we often look back and adjust our past to fit with how we currently see the world.

Both we modern humans of today and the gloranthans, are trapped in this new worldview, and trying to imagine what came before is a fallacy because we NEED to imply a "before," but when time did not exist as a line, there was no "before" only "now."

The way I personally think about it is that before, "time" was not linear, it was a "now" that could be freely experienced. A human born before mortality would have within them all their parts of life. A babe, an adult, an elder. They would experience the whole of their existence, just like we experience the whole of our bodies today. It is who we are. When death entered, there was suddenly an endpoint, but it didn't change the essential experience. However, as the world was put together and "time" created, all those experiences collapsed within a single line. No longer could an existence be "experienced," but a life needed to be "lived" with a beginning and an end. All experiences of those rare people who survived the dawn would sort themselves into line with this new reality, and they would need to examine what was suddenly their "past" and put it in order.

This also makes sense as to why the gods can no longer be directly involved with the world. If they interact intentionally and directly within the world of time, they would risk being bound by it and having their "existence" become linear and thus "lived." They might break themselves in the process. The Red Goddess, born within time, is an anomaly here, fusing "existence" and "life" as much as she fuses "chaos" and "matter." I see her as the greatest threat and the greatest promise because she breaks all rules and tries to have the cake and eat it too.

When you think about it, it's no wonder that so many great heroes and heroines arise, filled with all the powers of the gods, but able to act within time. Maybe what broke Harrek's Bear God wasn't the act of killing it, but dragging the skin into time and trapping it there.

I definetly see Bless Crops and the like as modern intensive agriculture! In my glorantha it's that kind of ritual magic that enables the population surplus, and avoids things like exhausted dirt, having to let fields lay fallow, or slash and burn agriculture. Whether it leeches the land of something more vital is an interesting question, I can certainly see it being debate on the topic!

8 minutes ago, Akhôrahil said:

If you look at the published setting material, they typically do. Guards, soldiers and militiamen commonly have 3, as well as the ”Typical Citizen” in the Starter Set.

I was going more on what Jeff Richard said here: https://wellofdaliath.chaosium.com/initiates-and-lay-members/

"A general rule of thumb is that most adults are initiated into a cult. That’s a very fuzzy rule admittedly, but generally true.

Now mechanically, that may not be the most useful way of presenting a NPC (and many initiates probably don’t actually have more than a single Rune Point)."

22 hours ago, Akhôrahil said:

If the average initiate has 3 Rune Points

I don't think the average initiate has three rune points. The starting player character has that, and they are decidedly not average in RQ:G (unlike some earlier editions). I think I've seen it mentioned that most initiates only have a single rune point unless they go deeply devout.

---

That being said, I do feel that in Glorantha, diseases are more dreaded than injuries and wounds.

Most families will have access to a first aid kit (heal spirit magic), at least at a neighbor's house if not their own.

Most villages have access to their local health center (the Ernalda temple, or the wise woman with a strong healing spirit) where they can fix broken bones, that guy who cut himself with an axe when he chopped wood, or someone who got mauled by a bear.

For diseases, you need to go to the hospital (the Chalana Arroy) or call for a traveling doctor (a healer or a shaman) to drive the spirits out. So yes, that is a bigger production, and something people would fear more. Not the least because it usually affects a lot of people at once, and costs add up.

However, it is also important to remember that the  Ernalda temple has a lot of other things to spend their rune points, I don't think injuries are even at the top of a list. An Ernalda priestess have to focus on blessing the fields, taking care of pregnancies and the like. Sure, she might have access to Heal Body, but to use it might mean she would be late with blessing that new field, there's divination to find a good place for a new building, and there's a pregnancy that looks bad, and a delivery where she will need to help out. Once you start adding things up, the rune point pool of a small Ernalda temple is barely enough for what their core work is. I see the weekly minor holy day as something used in busy times. It is important during spring (to get rune points back to keep blessing fields), and especially during emergencies (two bad pregnancies, and now three men got badly hurt in clan strife? Ernalda help us...) Ernalda has so much work to do in daily life she might need that minor holy day...

And that's not taking in account wars and battles. Even a small-scale battle with a band of tusk riders might mean a handful of badly injured people (very few have spirit magic strong enough to put back limbs).

But yeah, it is really fascinating to think of how different (and similar) health and healing are in Glorantha. Magic can be seen a bit like modern medicine, people there do have theoretical access to what amounts to antibiotics and surgery. However, they might not have access to it where and when they get hurt, and they might not be close to the top of the list of important things to spend rune points on. Would they really take possible healing away from a heavily pregnant lady? Or risk a worse harvest? No, better send them to the Chalana Arroy, that's their sole job.

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But, I also think that how much minor holy days affect things depends on play style, what cults people belong to, and how important you want rune magic to be. In our group the Yelmalio Light Servant has invested heavily in his rune point pool because he can only regain them once a month, AND he has access to heal body and likes to save 3 points for that for emergencies when they are adventuring. During more quiet times he spends that pool fast on bless crops... On the other hand, our Babeester Gor has theoretical access to a minor holy day through Ernalda, and has a smaller rune point pool. She's invested a lot of her power on hero-related gifts instead, which means she runs dry faster. Sure, she can regain things once a week with effort, but since she's mostly drained during combat,  that's a hard thing to schedule around one battle a week. we have an Orlanthi who is a fish out of water in our setting, and sure, there's a minor holy day each wind day, but good luck trying to find an Orlanthi temple anywhere, so it's a huge production to get rune points back even on a seasonal holy day. He's very stingy with using his.

And this one was for the Yelmalio initiate, mainly the cultural initiation as a youth.

-------------------

This is what you remember from your initiation rites.

 All the waiting boys were rounded up, you were fifteen, and among the older ones. It wasn’t done every year, and you had been living in Pavis. You had been too young there, and you were so disappointed when woke up one morning and a bunch of the older boys were gone, and nobody pretended they were missing. But finally, you had traveled to the Sun Dome and it was your turn.

You were all led out into the countryside, in the dark. You didn’t see where you were going. You had been given a helmet that was slightly too large, a long staff with a pointed tip, and leather breastplates. They were heavy and chafed. The person leading your troop had bronze armor and golden hair. It took you a while to realize that she was an adult, since she was hardly taller than you. And she was a woman. That confused you all, but you were too tired and confused to protest.

You marched during the night, and then you slept. You know it was supposed to be day when you slept, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt dark. Cold. You were huddled under the thick cloak you had been given. You marched for a second night, and now you didn’t recognize the paths. The animals sounded different. The light of the torches some of you carried seemed fainter. The third night of marching it was your turn to carry a torch, and you were not afraid. The fire warmed.

On the fourth night, you started climbing. It was a steep hill. Lots of rocks. It was hard to keep your balance with the spears and the torches. Near the end of the night, you met a stranger. An adult with red hair, a strange accent, and blue tattoos. He struck you from ambush, and you called him a coward and unfair. Your head hurt, but you had no choice but to fight.

It was strange. Before, you had been with many. Now suddenly you stood alone. You fought bravely, and fair, but your helmet was knocked from your head, and the stranger kicked you to the ground. He laughed and called you weak for sticking to your honorable ways, then he took your helmet and your spear as a trophy. Maybe he thought that would stop you. It didn’t. You took your torch and climbed on, alone.

In the darkness, came another. Black as soot. Black as the moonless night. A troll, bigger than you, by far. He hissed at the light from your torch, and you struck him, but he evaded. You no longer had your armor, or your spear. Your torch was a mighty weapon, but you were already tired from the climb and the other battle. The troll took your torch and swallowed it. Now you were surrounded by the dark.

You could have turned back. You could have laid down, hidden under your cloak. But instead, you climbed. You climbed in the light of the many stars above. Your hands and feet bled, and you felt miserable, but you still had your cloak to keep you warm. Then you met someone in the darkness, in the cold night. It was a young woman, naked in the cold. Her face was wrapped and veiled, but the rest of her skin was bare. She was shivering with cold, and suggested that you two should lay together, under your cloak. Keep each other warm, and other things, left for the marriage bed.

This was the first woman you had seen naked since you knew how to appreciate it. She was beautiful, and tempting, but also terrifying with her white-veiled face. Snow followed her, her footsteps ringed with frost. You knew you needed to get to the top, but you couldn’t help but feel compassion for her. You gave her your thick cloak, and continued up, nearly naked in the darkness.

Finally, you reached the top, and the stars shone brighter. You were nearly frozen stiff, without arms, armor, or fire. Your body ached from the climb, scratched raw from rough rocks, and bruised from falling stones. But you were not alone. One by one, other boys became visible in the dark, as bruised and wretched as you. Not all of them, not by far, but enough that you felt better. Your leader was there too, with her golden hair and a pile of weapons and armor. You put them on, and your spear shone in the dark, as did the others.

When you had dressed, you heard the grunts and screams of unspeakable beings, and twisted shapes attacked you from the dark. You fought, no longer alone but with your friends by your side. Together you drove away the twisted things. Then, standing on the hill, dawn broke at last. Never had the sun felt this good. Your leader introduced yourself as Vega Goldbreath, and you introduced yourself back as Surrak Harnaksson. She looked at you and saw your deeds and saw your mercy. She told you that not all people are deserving of kindness, and to beware of fair faces in the future. But you had done good. You were a man now. You and all the others.

As you returned, the missing boys joined up with the troop, one by one. Nobody spoke of what they had seen, and you still wonder. Did the others fail at one of the tasks? You thought you had, and yet you made it to the top. As you grew older, you would realize that every boy would experience their initiation differently. Some failed as Yelmalio did, some failed as humans. Some won and found other paths to walk. You found a fair face that took your heart and left you ever lonely.

You have got the offer to lead these rights, as an adult. To guide other boys down Yelmalio’s path. To test them and scare them and let them experience humiliation and defeat, and the camaraderie that comes with shared challenges. You have never accepted, and you’re not sure why. You know the true name of the challenges of the Hill of Gold. The treacherous, lying Orlanth the Rebel, slayer of Yelm. The terrible Zorak Zoran, god of trolls and the fire he stole. The cold and lewd Inora, the Winter Queen. Perhaps she’s the cause for your hesitation.

Sometimes, in the dead of winter, you still see a flapping of a cloak among the falling snow. You get the feeling she’s waiting for you.

I wrote down some past initiation stuff for my players, to help them get into character. We didn't play it out, and this was handed to them after we had already played a dozen sessions or so, so I knew their personalities. It's a combination of the cultural initiation as a young girl into Ernalda in Sun County (inspired by Six Seasons in Sartar) and the subsequent initiation into Babeester Gor.

-------------

This is what you remember from your initiation rites.

You knew something was wrong when the blood started coming. And the pain. It felt like everyone had known it would happen except you. On the morning of the splattered bedsheets you were spirited way by the women of your family, all masked and dressed up. You were carried in a litter, not allowed to touch ground. You were carried through the doors of the Ernalda temple, you knew it, you had seen it a dozen times, as a girl, with your mothers and your aunts.

But this time they put down the litter in the temple garden, and left you there. Alone.

You were hurting. You hadn’t eaten. Nobody answered your questions. So you crawled out of the litter, and found yourself in a garden. Was it really the temple garden? The trees were so high, and the undergrowth so thick. You saw no walls, and the path behind you faded before your eyes. You were lost.

And yet, there were fruits in the garden. You ate them and was no longer hungry. There was a distant sound of running water, and you followed it to quench your thirst. It wasn’t a stream that you found, but a raging river. It slaked your thirst with sweet water, but when you looked back, your path was gone, filled in with thorn bushes. You looked back to the river, and saw someone swimming in it. It was a beautiful young man, blue of skin and black of hair. He winked at you and offered you a ride across, and perhaps a ride of another sort if you would be so inclined. You said no, and told him you could swim as well as your brother. He laughed and winked again, but you looked away and swam across.

On the other side, you found a path. Stamped dirt. Thick forests on both sides. You started walking, the water, your wet clothes drying on your body. The sun grew hotter overhead, and the forests started to dry. Flowers wilted. Trees got yellow leaves. You found a young man lying on the path, exhausted and parched. He was green of skin and brown of hair, wreathed in yellow flowers. He asked you for water, but you had no pot of water on your head or hip. The only thing you could offer was your blood, but even that was dripping down your legs to be drunk by the greedy, parched dirt. You walked on, troubled by your inability to help.

Under your feet, the path grew wider, now paved and lined by flowers. Around you, people farmed the fields, dug the canals, and harvested the bounties of the earth. The houses were open and airy, and the people happy and well fed. You found yourself in a magnificent weaving hut, more a house or a mansion than a shed. Beautiful women worked there, skilled hands and wide smiles gossiping about their husband the all-seeing sun. There was a loom there, ready for you to sit down and get to work. And yet…

You heard something in the distance that nobody else did. A scream. Was the girl who had been sitting at that loom missing? Had someone taken her? You didn’t know, but you rushed in the direction of the scream. You jumped over a rose-covered fence, tearing your beautiful dress. You crawled under a thick hedge, losing your elaborate shawl. And then you found a small hut, decrepit in the surrounding beauty, and in front of it lay a woman. She was bleeding, same as you, but her chest was pierced and she did not breathe. Her blood sunk into the earth and stained your hands as you desperately tried to wake her up.

But she was dead. She was beautiful and dead, so recently her blood was still warm and wet.  Someone had killed her and was still close. You stood up, your tattered dress splattered by blood, your hands and feet red. There was a pile of firewood near the hut, and you walked over and picked up the axe that had been used to cut it. It was heavy in your hand. There was a rustling sound from the hut, and you realized that was the only place to hide. So you went inside.

In the darkness, you held the axe, filled with grief and anger over the woman outside. The hut felt heavy around you, like you had stepped deep down, into the earth. There was a breath in your ear, and a soft, female voice.

“You would avenge me?” It had the chill of the dead, and you answered yes.

“You would protect me if I still drew breath?” The breath was warmer now, and you answered yes once more.

“You would protect my holy places from defilement?” The breath was hot with passion, and you shivered but answered yes once more.

“Then awake and tell the priestess what you saw. You are too young to wield the axe yet, but if you still want to walk this path once your hands and arms are ready, go to the temple and ask for the Axe. If you are ready to kill, you can become my avenging daughter.”

Then you awoke, laid out on the earth floor of the temple sanctum, as if you had been a corpse prepared for burial. Everyone assembled gasped, but you told your story. Some cried. Some rejoiced. Some prayed you would change your mind.

You did not. When, years later, you had grown strong and fast, you went back to the temple and asked for the Axe. Your new sisters took you, gave you sweet beer mixed with blood to drink and told you stories of the dead earth and the evils of men. The ground swayed under you, but the axe steadied you. It was sharp in your hand. Black like ashes and dried blood. Heavy like dead bodies. There was a man there, in the cave. Stripped naked and covered in bites and scratches. He was tied up and gagged, but you saw his eyes. You saw his fear.

You saw what he had done.

The axe did the rest, not you.

You awoke with a splitting headache and some new tattoos the next day, not sure if you had dreamed the whole thing. But the world had changed around you, you knew its shadows in ways you hadn’t before. You know what men could do.

And what you could.

Since I am pretty sure neither of my players is on this forum, I can say that after tonight's session (and a bloody roll of 01), they are now BOTH accidentally illuminated (It happened 3 sessions ago for the first player) and have no idea about it or what it means for them. I've been sneaking in and re-adjusting their opposed runes on roll20 after they've changed in the character development phase,  I wonder who will be the first to notice something weird is going on...

(so this thread is gold for me)

Yeah, I have never been able to see facebook material. I rely on Well of Daliath, hopefully they get the most! (yes, I read it all when I found it because I was bored at work 🥰)

That is one gorgeous map! (now I can finally get proper distances measured!)

The way I threw myself on the dowload button! 🥰

What is culturally and religiously accepted might still be personally painful for some.

1 hour ago, DucksMustDie said:

I know that, but those women haven´t met our Storm Bulls. They really are barely humans 😄 Finding women for them, aargh 

Well, this goes for some men as well as Storm Bull I suppose 😉 (and some women too). Some people are just a bad fit for getting along with other people period. Dunno if we can blame Storm Bull for that...

Well, the Chalana Arroy cultist in my campaign is a he (Arroin specifically) who has been working as what's essentially a field medic for years. The violence is worse than the meat-eating, he's surrounded every day by meat-eaters, sadly that's a fact of life if you want to help out in the world instead of staying at a shrine waiting for people to come to you. He would never consider the Storm Bull marriage material (he is currently dodging an arranged marriage) but she sure is nice to look at.

Though I do admit that most Chalana Arroy would probably not be so forgiving of certain flaws... just a fun mythical consideration.

I mean, traditionally, the Storm Bull is married to Eiritha, so I'm sure there might be some Eiritha cultists there who wouldn't mind a husband who is off fighting a lot of the time as long as he also does some raiding, and does his duties in the marriage bed. Rumor has it the latter one is rarely the issue...

There are also women in the Storm Bull cult, though I doubt they went there to marry and settle down. In fact, I think it's the same for most men in the cult. Marriage means responsibilities, and they might get in the way of fighting chaos (and partying). Sure, maybe some will grow up and want a wife eventually, but I suspect most die before they reach that stage.

Chalana Arroy might be an interesting possibility. There's a Storm Bull initiate that's making eyes on the Chalana Arroy they are traveling with in my campaign, though I doubt that she has marriage on her mind...

One really useful tool for starting a campaign for me has been "The Quiet Year."

It's a communal community building generator that has given some stellar and fun results for us. We built an entire town and the surrounding countryside for one campaign, complete with history, weirdness, natural resources, myths, and other fun story stuff. All we did was tweak the timescale a bit, so that instead of a year, it charted the community since it was founded. And, it makes the players as invested in the community as the GM, and they will know what it is about without having to read up on long handouts (which I know some people are not fond of). And, in the end you get a map that you can clean up if you want! We just colored ours...

My sincere apologies. At this point I had to.
 

1 hour ago, Joerg said:

Alloying the two metals might give you Gloranthan Brass, which has nothing to do with the real world metal zinc, but with a copper-tin-whatever-else alloy that was melted and cooled down again

The something else might be gold, which would make the Sun County insult brasshat makes a lot of sense since it would imply something shiny, with a touch of gold, but essentially impure.

3 hours ago, EricW said:

The way I think of Shamen, a shaman is like someone who spends all their time looking at Tik Tok or youtube and posting comments to friends while walking down the street.

This was by far the best shaman description I have ever seen and describes the shaman in our campaign perfectly. I love it.

15 minutes ago, Joerg said:

Monomythically, there was no wind to carry pollen, but there was light which would have been able to levitate it.

True, I forgot it took a while for the wind to get there, I was thinking too much of real-world stuff and the good old gymnosperms.

Though considering there was little change before the wind got there, perhaps at that time there was no cross-pollination at all? Perhaps the wind was the one that started to change things up first, wild pollination everywhere! The horror...

The way I always looked at it was that bees are creatures of darkness because many (most?) insects are. Bees and bumblebees often nest in the ground where I live, and I can see them exiting from the underground together with the trolls when Yelm messed everything up as he descended.

Perhaps before this, trees and flowers were pollinated by wind (spirits), with no need for animals. But in the lesser darkness, before everything turned completely sideways, bees might have started to pollinate plants as well. Bumblebees in particular, can handle cold. Perhaps elves originally saw this as the bees stealing from them, making honey, as they didn't see a need for that ecological niche, and the trolls were already eating them? Were bees eating flowers too? Getting honey from them? I can see how they would come to that conclusion. Bees bad.

And now once Time has begun, bees and other insects remain on the surface. Most perhaps don't interact much with elves, but bees must do that all the time. Perhaps we should see bees as a possible future peacemonger between darkness and the plants? A troll bumblebeekeeper trying to convince the local elf population that they actually perform a valuable service and is far more reliant and diligent than the flighty wind spirits? What will happen to pollination when Orlanth dies, and the windstop happens? Will bees step up?

EDIT: When you think about it, a wooden beehive created by farmers keeping bees replicates the cozy darkness inside the earth for the bees. The larvae needs the dark, while the adults can brave Yelm's light.

EDITEDIT: Maybe an Argan Argar/Gorakiki subcult? Are Orlanthi tribes close to the darkness runes better beekeepers?

Yes, I realize that this is veering into your dumbest theory territory, but my granddad was a beekeper and now I am kinda invested in this arc...

6 hours ago, mfbrandi said:

Now what goes for the goddess needn’t apply to the cultists, but there was certainly a phase when even having a child and giving it to the temple was out of the question. I guess it is all a matter of which misogynistic tropes are most pressing on the male authors when it comes time to type: is it “a mere woman couldn’t have done this without male help — and how else could she get it? <nude, nudge>” (i.e. she did it but she had help) or “powerful women must be unable to feel love — look at them, they are all monsters!” (i.e. she did it but she is an anomaly/not a real woman)? All very How to Suppress Women’s Writing. Ho hum!

My Babeester Gor player commented pretty much on that when they read the cult description... the changes were quite stark. Neither of us interacted with the 2000's Storm Tribe stuff; we stuck to our old notes and modules, so we never even saw those descriptions. I tried GMing the system, but that campaign crashed when one player moved, and the rules felt so awkward. The 1980' stuff was what we had on photocopies.

We have discussed a lot about what we will do, and so far, we seem to be sticking to the YGMV and having the Earth Goddesses Babeester Gor description be how they handle things in Esrolia. A cultural thing. So far, I am playing around with the Babeester Gor cult in Sun County (a cultural outlier) being less focused on forbidding marriage and children, and more focused on that nothing can come between a Babeester Gor and her duties to the Earth Goddesses. The local culture is strongly marriage-focused (influenced by Yelmalio) and it would make sense that a Babeester Gor might be forbidden to marry a man, as that would make her responsible for the children. No Ernalda priestess would ask a mother to choose between her children and serving her goddess, so that would be out. However, it feels logical that it might be okay to marry a woman, as then she would be able to be responsible for any children, and the Babeester Gor would be able to do her duty. Do whatever you want in peacetime, but when the shit hits the fan it's time to take your axe and get to work. I like adding complications of duty for my players, though we'll see whether they manage to go through with the engagement and actually tie the knot. Marriage notifications are fun!

Now that I have had time to read up a bit on the new cult books, I came across some things that I don't remember having seen before in the descriptions of Babeester Gor. Mainly, initiates are now forbidden to marry and must leave any offspring to the temple to raise.

Is this the first time these rules have appeared? I've been playing since RQ2, and I can't remember having seen this before.

I know I can just do the whole YGMV, I just need to know if this came out of left field now, or if it has always been stated somewhere I can't remember.

I wondered if anybody had listed which god/desses have weekly minor holy days?

I know Windsday (Orlanth), Clayday (Ernalda, Babeester Gor, Eiritha),  Wildday (Issaries, Ty Kora Tek)

Uleria is special. I could have sworn I read a correction somewhere that Yelmalio is supposed to have one every Fireday. Or was that Yelm?

Are there any others that people know of?

This looks so awesome! One day I'll drag my players there no matter what...

8 hours ago, Qizilbashwoman said:

ou get more from reading de la resurrección de la muerte, but you also lose SAN.

That one is going in my shopping bag, as a professional writer, SAN is overrated 😄