Stew Stansfield

That's very true, David. Glorantha likes magic and myth writ large, with heroes, gods and monsters. I'm perhaps getting at something a little different. I'll try and explain by way of an example. A bronze-clad phalanx marches upon the enemy's heartland. It is summer. The air is cloudless, hot and dry. The lighter-armed enemy denies the attackers battle. They retreat, harassing the invaders at every opportunity. The invaders cannot engage or give chase, so march onward. Finally, after the phalanx is worn down by its marches, stressed by heat fatigue and skirmishes, the enemy gives battle. The phalanx is rigid and strong, but tired, unwieldy and inflexible. The enemy is quicker, lighter and more adaptable – in armament and tactics. Its swordsmen get under the spears of the phalanx; they harass its sides and rear. The invader is slowly and inexorably bled and defeated. This simple example has many antecedents in history. It draws on the relative strengths and weaknesses of irregular versus regular soldiers, or of light, medium and heavy infantry; of rigid and flexible tactics. Let's transpose this to Glorantha. A Stonewall Phalanx marches upon the enemy's heartland. It is Fire Season. The air is burned cloudless by Yelm's magnificence; the phalanx marches under his glory. The lighter-armed enemy denies the attackers battle. They retreat, harassing the invaders at every opportunity. The invaders care not. Their armour is burnished bright, reflecting their god's brilliance. Every step they take—in unison—under the blazing sun is an act of worship that makes them stronger. The enemy skirmishers are dazzled by the invaders' panoply; their very arrows and sling-stones blinded. Finally, the enemy gives battle. The phalanx is unyielding. Their armour shines and burns with Yelm's power. The enemy wilts and falters before its assault, unable to break the perfect unity of the Stonewall as it is trodden underfoot. The second example aims to show how two fundaments of Earthly military experience—so crucial to the first example—might have radically different effects in Glorantha. In the first example, the phalanx—heavily armed and armoured—suffers from heat fatigue, both on the march and in battle. In the second example, the sun has an opposite effect. It makes the phalanx stronger; its every deed taken under the aegis of their god an act of dedication and sacrifice. In the first example, the phalanx—being a formation of regular, heavy infantry—suffers when exposed to a more flexible force against which it cannot dictate its strengths; against an enemy whose weapons are more useful in an engagement of that nature. In the second example, such technological and tactical determinism loses its place. Military history likes its parables of innovation; where outdated and outmoded ideas are continuously defeated at the hands of tactical progress. But a Stonewall Phalanx is strong because it is stagnant and inflexible; every year it shuns change and adaptation is a year added to the thousands over which it has existed in the perfect model of its creation. Faced with the first example, you'd say (i) don't fight and march in the midday sun, and (ii) adapt to a more flexible paradigm. The second example says, "Bollocks." And, to end, a final example: A Stonewall Phalanx marches upon the enemy's heartland. It is Fire Season but the sun is hidden under a broiling slate sky, as the Storm-singers call upon the winds to marshal the clouds above. The lighter-armed enemy denies the attackers battle. They retreat, harassing the invaders at every opportunity, their thunderstones thinning the ranks. Finally, the enemy gives battle. The phalanx is strong, but shorn from the gaze of its great god; its armour dulled and cool. The enemy moves with edge and quickness of the wind. The phalanx tries to adapt to the challenge, but its paeans are lost in the keening storm; its officers' warnings and commands stifled as the breath is stolen from their throats. The mortar of the Stonewall crumbles, leaving hundreds of individual stones to be engulfed. Humility aside, I know a fair amount about military history. And honestly? At least in my Glorantha, I don't think it really matters that much...

*hesitates* Oh, go on, let's be provocative... Warfare has always been—by far—the weakest area of Glorantha. Why? Because we know too little of what we speak? Quite the contrary. Because we know too much. (Or presume to...) No other area of Glorantha suffers from so many preconceptions. Most of us know sod-all about ritual, economics, semiotics, anthropology or any number of other subjects. Oh, sure, we pretend to when we're getting into arguments on t'internet. But we don't really, do we? We just look it up on Wikipedia beforehand. But warfare? We've got that down. It infuses us. It may be a fairly shallow level of knowledge, but it's real and broadly pervasive. (And, OK, there's probably a lot of Wikipedia'ing going on aswell.) Look at those of us who contribute to Glorantha, whether as creators or fans on message-lists. We're (mostly) all the same. Middle-aged white blokes of European heritage, who grew up playing with the same (or similar) toy soldiers, watching the same war films and reading the same popular military history books. We play the same role-playing games that—even now—struggle to shake off their clumsily deterministic wargaming roots. The fetish that is military history (or military 'current affairs') is the oldest, most persistent example of geek culture – that existed millennia before we thought to coin the term; its pathology rooted in the same categorisation, reductionism and determinism. Everything goes in its little box. Logos. And that's the problem with Gloranthan warfare, really: too much logos, not enough mythos. The tension between mythos and logos in Glorantha is, I think, often a good thing. Provocative but inspiring. But when it comes to Gloranthan warfare, mythos is losing. And that's bad. It's far too rooted in our own experience. We bring far too much baggage and fail to see it on Gloranthan terms. It's bad enough for me as a fairly proximal early-modernist having to bat off late-modern assumptions and prejudices; I feel for Gloranthans or even real-world ancient cultures. How often do we see magic treated as some addendum? A layer added on top of a unit's panoply and tactical function, as opposed to its core? Why not an approach that turned all this on its head; that reduced Earthly military history to second- or third-order haberdashery and instead centred on myth and meaning? I might whinge about Hero Wars and HeroQuest's incessant focus on the Orlanthi, but it had a glowing up-side. The Sartarite Orlanthi don't do military in the sense that comforted nasty old logos. You just had a bunch of yokels pratting around in a shieldwall while heroes and weaponthanes went around doing ABSOLUTELY COOL SHIT (TM). Mythos was front and centre. Needless to say, I liked that. Anyway, enough of me moaning. I should probably stick to duck wizards. But I've been wanting to write that for about five years, and here seemed as good a place as any. Sorry! *scarpers*

I was searching for some info on something and came across this from a decade ago, which I completely forgot I'd written (and thought I'd repost for silliness). I'm astonished I went to the trouble of actually working all this out. I can only assume I was going slowly mad from being knee-deep—figuratively, but quite possibly literally—in forage contracts at the time. If you can follow the line of argument through to the end, my sincere admiration. ***** GOPTO GLABBRAX'S SPECULATIONS ON THE LUNAR ARMY I [In the above title, the `S' in `Speculations' has been crossed-out by an anonymous hand.] In the following, Gopto Glabbrax, centurion in the Slavewall Foot and son of the infamous Spurio (whom some label `Brothel-Master-General' of the Provincial Army, and others worse things besides), provides in his near-inimitable Tarshite drawl some insights into the financial condition of that noblest harbinger of the Lunar Way: the common Sedenyite sentinel, chastising barbarians for a lunar a week. Theoretically. [All the following figures are based on Martin Laurie and Mark Galeotti's article, `The Imperial Economy' in The Four Scrolls of Revelation Convulsions C02 Conbook (The Unspoken Word, Crewe, 2002), pp. 9-14. If you go by the older RQ pricelists, you'll have to make up your own numbers I'm afraid.] 1 (gold) wheel = 20 (silver) lunars = 200 (copper) navars WHAT'S THE PAY OF A COMMON SOLDIER IN THE SLAVEWALL FOOT? Well, feoretickly, your average full-time shi… soldier gets a lunar a week, or wun an' free-sevenffs coppers a day. Tha's not countin' special rates: as we's organised like a Lunar regiment, you gets wunan' -'alf rate in Sacred Weeks, an's then there's your double-pay- days, which is all the Great Moon Days. An' we also gets triple money on Moirades' burfday. When 'e remembers it. So, that's, er… FORTY-FIVE LUNARS AND SEVEN AND ONE-SEVENTH COPPERS PER ANNUM? Eggsacktly. An' file-leaders, they gets two lunars a week normal like, twice that of the regulars. Well, feoretickly. THEORETICALLY? Yeah, feoretickly. You see, we don't actually pay the bas… lads that, of course. WHAT, THEY DON'T ACTUALLY GET THEIR FULL PAY? Bloody Lunar 'ells no! You twit. Why would we do that? We'd all be bankrupt! Of the pay they's supposed to get, it's split into their subsistance, or the pay they're really supposed to get… if possible, mind… and the deductibles, or the pay they're really not really supposed to get, and that is stopped from 'em. Or, as the lads say, grain-'n-gin-money and I'll-be-buggered-backwards-by-a-brotard-if-I-know-where-it's-gone-money. … DEDUCTIBLES? Right. You know, off-reckonin's? Furstly, one copper from the weekly lunar, and a further copper over Sacred Weeks, is stopped as the King's Portion, a bit like the Emperor's Tenth up north. That's fortythree coppers a year taken from a man's pay, out of which we pays the standard Lunar Sevenff in tithing. Not to the Heartlands, mind, but to King Moirades. This 'elps provide for the Phargentites and variuss contingencies for the Army of Tarsh, such as hintelligence – Harr! – though the Royal Dishthane takes 'is `fair' share… After the tithe there's a further week's pay taken out of the Portion for road an' river money, fer makin' the ways, passages, posts, camps 'n' magazines in Tarsh an' beyond – of course, if you're making these ways, you get paid extra 'n' get some of the money back. An' then one lunar in every gold wheel stipended to a soldier is given to Lokarnos as spoke-money or waggonage, which amounts to anuver twenty-two coppers portage taken from the Portion, with a further clack accounted every uver year. I THOUGHT THAT WAS AN ANCIENT YELMITE CUSTOM, NOT USED IN THE PROVINCIAL ARMY? Tecknickly. ALSO YOU DON'T HAVE ANY WAGONS… Look, do you want me answers, or not? OKAY, PLEASE CONTINUE. SO THE KING PAYS YOU THE MONEY… AND YOU GIVE IT BACK TO HIM? Yer. ERM… WOULDN'T IT JUST BE EASIER FOR THE KING TO PAY NINE-TENTHS OF WHAT HE NORMALLY DOES? 'Cos, gormless, the Portion is usually for fings we's often got bugger all idea o' what's needed or 'ow much they'll cost. But we knows `ow many soldiers we's got, so we just tacks it on to the army establishment, all accountable like, an' each regiment pays its fair share. Anyway, out of the forty-three coppers of the Portion, four and six-sevenffs are usually retained by the regiment, as the Remainders or muster money, which is used in the King's name fer tributes to the Armsmen who provide men to the regiment, and expenses to the recruitin' saltrieves. OKAY, SO THAT'S THE DEDUCTIBLES… No it ain't! The King's Portion's only a third of 'em. Then there's the Fifth Quarter, which is a further two coppers from the weekly lunar stopped for vurious fings, with another two taken over Sacred Weeks. If you're confused, it's pretty obviuss to remember that the Fifth Quarter makes up two-thirds of the off-reckonin's. Yeah? … Anyways, this amounts to eighty-six coppers a year, from which is taken the usual Sevenff in tithing, only this time passed on to the Provincial Army and Administration in various amounts: free-sevenffs o' a copper to the Provincial Overseer, 2 coppers to his office and wun-sevenff o' a copper to his scrivener; wun-sevenff o' a copper to the General o' Procurements and Disbursements; wun-sevenff o' a copper to the General Guide fer the Lunar Spirit and wun and sixsevenffs to the Provincial Church itself; and free-sevenffs o' a copper to the General o' the Provincial Army, one-sevenff to his Harbinger, and seven coppers to the establishment itself. After the tithe there's a day's pay taken for the Teelo Norri poorhouses 'n' orph'nidges, two days' pay fer the widows' weepin' money an' funeral club… FUNERAL CLUB? SOUNDS VERY CONVIVIAL. Eh? And a day's pay per month fer the regimental cult, one double-pay- day's funds fer sacrifices not accounted fer by such, and the noshunul pay of every Water Day of Death Week taken for the Black Eel. HOLD ON… WATER DAY OF DEATH WEEK? SO YOU'RE PAID ACCORDING TO THE LUNAR CALENDAR, BUT ACCOUNT SOME OF YOUR EXPENSES ACCORDING TO THE THEYALAN CALENDAR? Yer. ISN'T THAT CONFUSING? Hurh! You should've seen it when they tried to pay us each day accordin' to the phase o' the Moon… RIGHT. ALL THAT STILL LEAVES FORTY-FIVE AND ONE-SEVENTH COPPERS A YEAR UNACCOUNTED FOR OUT OF THE 129 SO FAR `DEDUCTED', WHICH I PRESUME ARE REFUNDED TO THE SOLDIER? You great gorp! Clothin', armour 'n' weppens don't grow on trees, yer know… well, not 'less yer in Snakepipe 'Ollow, I guess. No, we provides 'em, and the bug… lads pays us back from their pay, that money bein' kept by the regiment fer the outfittin' fund. They don't get any o' that back, jus' their seven coppers' a week subsistence. SO A LUNAR SOLDIER ACTUALLY RECEIVES SEVEN COPPERS A WEEK… Whoah, 'ang on. One copper a week is stopped out o' subsistence for gin-tithing, or gingild as we say 'ere. Tha's effecktively one sevenff o' a clack a day, doubled on Great Moon Days and wun-an'- 'alfed in Sacred Weeks of course. So that's six coppers subsistence a week normal like, to be paid equally in two instalments, usually on Crescent-Come and Crescent-Go. Of course, if the wan… lads are subsisted in kind at regimental expense, then the value o' that is stopped too, innit? Same as if they're given goods fer barter an' all with them barbarians. Oh, yer, finally a further copper is offen stopped weekly every other month, fer regimental contingencies and shortfalls not covered by deductibles from the King's Portion or Fifth Quarter. SO, FIVE OR SIX COPPERS, THEN… Whoah there, Yarandros! There yer go again. All this is scratches on a wax tablet… 's not real money. No, real money costs… money. MONEY COSTS… MONEY? Eggsacktly. Look, if we be payin' the bas… lads in coin, we 'af to be gettin' it from somewhere. An' it offen don't come cheap, not least with Moonson's Monopoly on silver! Like, if we's in Sartar, there's usually a charge two-an'-free-quarter per cent on all funds issued, which is usually a clack accounted fer each month o' so. BUT THE SOLDIERS ARE USUALLY PAID IN NAVARS, WHICH AREN'T MADE OF SILVER. Tha's a point… Well, er, the recruitin' bounties are, tho'… a week's pay in advance like, jus' like this. <reaches into a bag and pulls out a coin> THAT'S NOT A LUNAR, IT'S A BOLG. No it isn't! IT IS. AND 'ARGENTEUS' DOESN'T HAVE A 'J' IN IT. ANYWAY, YOU'RE OBFUSCATING THE ISSUE. Eh? NEVERMIND. SO OF THE 45 LUNARS AND ONE AND ONE-SEVENTH LUNARS STIPENDED, THE SOLDIER ACTUALLY RECEIVES UNDER 26 LUNARS A YEAR? Yep. But they get free gin. BUT YOU'VE JUST SAID THE GIN ISN'T FREE…<alarmed> It isn't? NEVERMIND. HOW MUCH DO YOU GET, GOPTO? Now, tha's not a question t'ask a gennelman, is it! Well, alright then… do you mean from their pay or mine? EITHER. BOTH. DOES IT MATTER? Well, your typical company hofficer gets between five an' ten lunars a week, like, and a further lunar in slave money. He tends to pays for 'is stuff 'imself, so 'is stoppages is diff'rent, mind. 'E pays fer 'is waggonage, cult money, tithin's an' all that, but gets the outfittin' money back. Also 'is own Remainders is offen given back fer `company use' at the hofficer's discreshun. Then 'e gets 'is due proportions, like. DUE PROPORTIONS? Yer. There's 'is four-an'-'alf per cent of the gingild taken, fer negoshiatin' wi' the gin-peddlars on be'alf o' the company, and ensurin' it's good stuff, which is two clacks per man all told. Then there's 'is own sevenff taken from the regimental contingencies money, fer the `best usage o' the company at 'is discreshun', which is another free coppers per man. An' then there's 'is take on the widows' money, in their gratitude at 'is good graces, an'… IT'S OKAY. YOU CAN STOP THERE. Right. But, well, my company's a bit different, like. OH, HOW COME? Well, it's a long story, but my men don't acktually exist… ***** SYNOPSIS Pay of a common Lunar soldier per annum – 45L. 7,1/7n. OFF-RECKONINGS King's Portion deductible – 4L. 3n. (of which 6,1/7n. seventh tithing; 1L. road and river money; 2L. 2n. waggonage; and 4,6/7n. Remainder or muster money) Fifth Quarter deductible – 8L. 6n. (of which 1L. 2,2/7n. seventh tithing; 1,3/7n. Teelo Norri fund; 2,6/7n. weeping widows' money and funeral club; 1L. 4,2/7n. regimental cult; 2,6/7n. special sacrifices; 7,1/7n. Black Eel money; 4L. 5,1/7n. outfitting fund) SUBSISTENCE Subsistence, i.e. pay after deductibles – 32 L. 8,1/7n. Charge for subsistence transferred into specie, typically at 2.75% – 9n.* Gingild deducted from subsistence – 4L. 4,3/7n. Regimental Contingencies deducted from subsistence – 2L. 1n. BALANCE Total subsistence remaining per annum – 25L. 3,5/7n. *N.B. the entire fund of subsistence is usually transferred into specie and thus subject to the 2.75%, but the charge is effectively levelled on that which is issued to the soldier alone – regimental contingencies and gingild are not diminished!

Thanks for this, Harald! I'm especially thankful for your tale about the Black Eel, which I'd completely missed. In my own Glorantha, I use the Slavewall Foot as a particularly enthusiastic antagonist in the Duck Hunts, with rumours of nasty Black Eel magics and all that. The loon connection gives some fascinating (and amusing) possibilities.

Ace! Thank you, Peter and 7Tigers! I don't know my brain skipped over seeing the rune in Simon's piccy, but it obviously did. Par for the course, these days... I was something of a fan of the expansion—within reason—on aesthetic grounds. Glorantha's often been a very wordy creation, and I quite like attempts to signal meaning in a non-textual manner. I guess everyone will have their personal break-point between what provides a resonant core with the natural expansions and derivations you might expect with such semiotics; and what a suggests a meaningless profusion that weakens the central concept.

Cheers, Richard! I sincerely hope—for that duck's sake—it's not the first one!

Cheers, Joerg! Yep, I tried to trawl through my books as best I could (including the collated 16-page rune.pdf that used to be on the Issaries website way back) but came up blank. I'm sure you're right about the Fire connection (symbolising some potent beverage, no doubt). I'm just a bit puzzled, as I didn't usually take any creative liberties with Orlanthi stuff (it wasn't my area), typically using things as I found them. Thanks for checking!

Hello! I seek help on a (quite literal) runequest! Years ago, I drew this for Newt. I'm trying to remember what the heck the large rune on the tankard is, or where I got it from. This is from the era when there were loads and loads of runes, so I'm struggling. (In case it's not clear, it'd be mirrored along a vertical plane running through the dot and u-bend.) I'd pretend I knew what I was doing at the time and it was something to do with Minlister and brewing. But I'm the person who draws Storm Bill berserks with Voriof-rune helms (thinking it's the Urox rune) and sorns with Undead-rune war-paint (thinking it's the Chaos rune), so it's also likely I was extremely confused. (Which doesn't help.) It's a bit like the Durev rune. Can anyone remember seeing it anywhere? I'm pretty confident I didn't make it up, but... Cheers!

Hopefully this isn't too much of a derail (and many apologies if it is), but I only tend to hang out in certain areas of Glorantha these days--none of them of great repute!--and this gives me something of a localist perspective. (Glorantha does like its localist vs globalist lozengist conundrums.) Not sure if some of the following is useful elsewhere. In Caladraland, Veskarthan is the great father and patron of the land; not just of the human tribes, but also of the plants that suckle on the ancient lava flows, and the beasts that wander its forests. Like any children some will inherit his Fire and Disorder runes more than others. I've thus always thought that the products of the plants and beasts are naturally 'fiery', 'spicy', 'disinhibiting', 'libido-enhancing' or 'emboldening', etc., because of those two runes. Not because of any attempt to push a certain cultural, geographical or climatological analogue (which Gloranthan musings can descend into), but just because of the Fire and Disorder runes that are Veskarthan's essential nature. This can be 'natural', without recourse to ritual, process or preparation. (Though, of course, you can add that if you think it's fun!) A freshly butchered deer can provide the hottest curry you've ever tasted - no spices required. I imagine the juice of the fruits of the forest can work the same way. Ready-made cocktails, straight from the gourd. Yay! Caladran hunters and horticulturalists know how to spot the signs of those fruits and animals strongest in Veskarthan's magic. Outsiders can get it very badly wrong... I'm sure it's quite different when you move into the Vinavale and Porthomeka, as Harald mentions above. But in the wilds, where the influence of the Twins and other presences is weaker, I tend to like 'natural' hotness and inebriation. Caladrians are the children and image of their volcano gods. And a rising cacophony of blustering violence, fecundity and effusions followed by comatose slumber does sound like some nights out...

Ah, sorry, yep, we're on the same page. I was just wondering if I'd missed anything. (No, not really a fan myself, either.)

Can I ask what made you cringe, Steve? My eyebrows rose a touch mischievously, though that's perhaps on account of reading too many Zatanna comics.

Re: Yellow Bear: There's a fun set of Greg's stories about the Hrestoli knight Sir Beobard and his adventures with/against the likes of the Yellow Bear, the Serpent King and his paladins (including the grey dwarf Bool), the Blue Moon of Hell, etc. It finishes on the acest cliffhanger, where Beobard's just about to head off against the Pumpkin Corps... Sadly, I lent my copy to Loz years ago, when he was writing the Mongoose stuff, so can't check it.

I've always thought that the very greatest duck heroes (behave) wore contraptions like the Husaria's wings in an atavistic attempt to manifest pre-Curse greatness... ... on foot. As quasi-Orlanthi heroes, their 'Four Supporters' in battle spend much of their time doing just that - trying to keep the hero upright. (Edit: Very sorry, thought this was in the 'other' thread. Will stop derailing. )

Yep, I suspect my Glorantha might vary a little there. (Albeit perhaps because I spend too much time sodding around with ducks in Dragon Pass and want to encounter something a little different.) That said, I guess 'duck' can cover a multitude of sins... In case people weren't aware, this info isn't new – it's a mash-up of the information in Elder Secrets (our answerphone message du jour) and a textbox of Sandy's in Tales of the Reaching Moon #17 (p. 40). It's the latter piece that had the 'majority' comment – with the added clarification of '75%+'.

Because ducks are metal and they want to shred out some serious tunes?

I fear that rather sums up a lot. Putting out a 120-page splatbook on a subject that owes a huge amount to its lightly sketched, leftfield, less-is-more ambiguity is always going to be problematic.

Newt's very kind - and, to clarify, the tone there is very much Ooooh, Matron! (It might not surprise you to learn that I don't really deal with much nastiness in my Glorantha. Even discussions about Broo and Thed leave me a bit cold, to be honest.) P.S. Actually, I take that Broo comment back. I forgot the piece had a Broo Noel Coward... “Whatever Shall a Broo Do?” Whatever shall a broo do, When faced with such a remarkable hullabaloo? For it’s so very hard to emote, When one has the countenance of a goat, And one’s cousin thrice removed is a ewe! Whatever shall a broo do; Why have you tried to fit this hoof inside a shoe? One’s hide does not entice, Its fur all grime and lice, Yet valued as carpet in Matkondu! Whatever shall a broo do; Shall he cry, shall he bleat, shall he mew? For no-one understands, Quite how his heart demands, The warmth of affection, just like you! Whatever shall a broo do, When greeted with cries of “Shoo! Shoo!”? It’s so very hard to stay abreast, Of cultural digest, When one’s only confidants cry “Mooooo!” Whatever shall a broo do; Be a famous general in the Ordenviru? Oh how his pride will warp, When he commands a regiment of gorp, For that is all the action he shall view! Whatever shall a broo do, When he meets the family of his sweetheart true? For he surely can’t elope, When strung up with a rope, For a goatkin as son-in-law will never do!

Cheers, Roddy! Alas, I've not given much thought to further adventures, so far. My Glorantha is remarkably superficial and vacuous, and I get distracted quite easily! That said, I fear he may aim too high (literally), and come a cropper while trying to leave a box of worms on Gunda the Guilty's Wolf Pirate galley.

I forgot to post Ponsonby's backstory on Google+. Might as well do it here! Especially as it has really bad jokes. Ponsonby was the (d)rakish and well-preened Captain of the Duck Point city militia, until his close and happy friendship with Queen Wild-wheat was deemed rather too close and happy by her other counsellors, and he was shooed off to be the duck-people's plenipoteniary spokesbeak at the City of the Wonders. When the God-King disappeared, Ponsonby waddled off to the great city of Nochet to dedicate himself to a life of piety in the worship of his goddess. The rites of love are somewhat different down south, though, and Ponsonby’s usual method of wooing a paramour—breaking into her house and leaving a box of juicy worms on her pillow—hasn't had quite the same effect in Nochet as it did in Duck Ferry. He can usually be found hanging around the grounds of the Temple of the Great Mother Imarja, belittling rivals and warbling turgid romantic poetry. Once, while commanding the Pride of Quackford, Fairflanks’ little barge ran out of provisions, earning him the nickname 'Slugless' from his crew.

If New Pelorian isn't Latin, then how can brave Orlanthi revolutionaries daub LUNARES EUNT DOMUS in woad across Temples of the Reaching Moon? Pah!

Thanks, Darius, that's very kind. It was truly a group effort, in that everyone chipped in with their own ideas and detail - so there wasn't much 'scraping the barrel', so to speak. I'm not sure I can help much with reminisces, sadly, as my memory's rather fuzzy a decade on, but it was great fun! Knowing Keith, I'm sure he'll have been fine, though as to us...

As an aside, I just came across something from ten years ago that we came up with for a PBEM Rory did. I was playing a Lunar merchant that was part of an exploratory expedition down into Resettlement-ish-era Dragon Pass. This is what he took along with him as hongo to trade with whomsoever he found there... (Created by the other players and myself.) 1. pickled ostrich testicles[1], three dozen (36) jars of 2. aromatic, jasmine-scented Kralori herbs, seventeen (17) small wooden boxes of 3. Erigian staring ursine[2], one (1) thawed specimen 4. ground carapace of Thovelon beetle[3], one (1) small jar of 5. preserved quails' eggs, fourteen gross (2016) 6. finest red-capped fungi, dried, one (1) kilo of 7. Sylilan jewelry, Jillaro mark, one (1) coffer of 8. red lunary beads with Full Moon copper pendants, one (1) chest of 9. finely illustrated Pelandan and Dorkathi fertility rituals[4], three (3) scrolls 10. Moonblessed silvershine rainwater, ninety-six (96) small silver cans of 11. finest Holayan henna, four (4) small pottery urns of, embossed with the rune of the Red Woman 12. White Sea whale oil, two (2) large tuns of 13. crimson angelfish, moonsalted, three (3) tuns of 14. wine, thirty (30) amphorae of [eighteen (18) of Medonius' Shield Karreshi wine[5]; ten (10) of Herontear Darjiini rice and appleblossom wine[6]; and two (2) of crudely labelled 'Magically preserved Durnvoking fiery acorn beer'[7]] 15. oil of Kostaddi brown olives[8], six (6) large clay jars of 16. iron chests, two (2) large 17. crimson and scarlet-dyed cloth, forty-five (45) bolts of 18. exquisitely crafted Lunar idols (fired clay, wood, ivory, soapstone, metal), five (5) wooden crates of, marked 'Fragile' 19. Balazaring Dulu Nuts[9], one (1) large sack of 20. Man Who Would Be Hongo[10], one (1) 21. Hypocorax Joon's Patent Sapphirine Moon Tonic[11], one dozen (12) vials of 22. Kratikos of Mintinus' Grotaron Brachiognomy, six (6) first edition copies of, bound, with diagrams and anatomical illumination[12] 23. Box of haberdash: red clay tie-on pilgrim badges (Moonson, Crimson Bat, etc.), one gross (144) The Black Boxes… The two large iron chests are placed toward the back of the wares, covered by cloths and various ephemera. They are ‘secret’. These strongboxes are locked and both contain weapons. Many expedition members and military personnel would not be happy with the idea of trading weapons to the potentially hostile savages we meet. One chest contains carefully wrapped, refined lo-metal swords, of finest Pelandan manufacture: light as a feather and bearing the Third Eye Blue stamp. The other chest contains refined el-metal spear and arrowheads, ‘liberated’ from the supplies of the Marble Phalanx and Gilt Scythes regiments (they bear their regimental marks). [1] From the Rinliddi ostrich, a flightless bird much smaller than the Praxian kind, and commonly known as varimu. [2] A starebear is something of a curiosity from far-distant Erigia, the inaccessible frozen wastes to that land's north, specifically, and is therefore an item of great rarity and value. Should an enterprising (some might say foolhardy) money-minded man spend half a year hacking away at the ice, he might come across a rather delightul bear, about the size of an eight-year-old, its eyes wide open beneath the ice, suspended in a long-lasting and inexplicable hibernation. If removed from the ice and thawed, these creatures will remain in hibernation, staring, so it would appear, right into the eyes of whoever should look upon them. What these bears are waiting for no-one knows, but to say they are a must-have among children of certain noble families would be an understatement, so said enterprising man may, should he be fortunate over the span of two years, make enough money to marry and set himself up as a man of note. Meanwhile, the bear, its eyes covered with a protective glassy material, its fur seemingly protected by the slow release of oils, continues to stare. [3] A super rare species found only on the shattered isle of Jrusteli, first catalogued by the ancient (and thankfully quite gone) God Learners. The beetle's carapace, when ground and applied as a ‘kohl’-type makeup rimming the eyes, acts as an aphrodisiac. Very expensive, and purchased only by nobility (with Lunar noble families possessing a particular preference). [4] One of these is an Illustrated Guide to the Great Sex Hunt, with attached woodcut engravings of the winning hunts of previous years with full instructions on how to achieve such improbable conjunctions. [5] Medonius' Shield is a bright and fruity wine of a ruddy amber colour, produced in the ket of Karresh. It is a popular beverage among the shield-brothers of the Lavic Legion, who commonly partake of the wine after drill, whilst combing each others' hair. [6] A potent wine popular in Darjiin. [7] A fiery (and mildly hallucinogenic) acorn beer drunk by Dorkathi adolescents as they embark on the Long Run to manhood. [8] As the rich and well-watered farmlands of eastern Vonlath give way to the drier, limey foothills ringing the Hungry Plateau, barley gives way to bountiful olive groves. With warm summers and mild winters, these rugged trees grow far from any coast; they are shorter than other olive trees, but can flourish in the hardiest of landscapes. Their fruit, the brown olive, is native to Kostaddi, and a fleshy and flavoursome crop. Its colour changes as it ripens, from a ruddy pale maroon when unripe, through to a rich russet when ripe, and a dull grey-black when overripe. The narrow leaves and white flowers of the olive trees are a favoured food of the Gerendethi goat daimones that roam the Kostaddi uplands. Though these goats do not eat the olives themselves, their actions cover unripe olives in a salty spittle, which helps ripen the fruit and prepare it for consumption. Brown olives are washed and pickled for eating, or pressed for oil. Tarter, unripe olives are occasionally used in compotes; while the black fruit is often sundried and taken with meat and cheese, or baked in bread. [9] In Balazar, dulu nuts come from dulu nut trees. Performing the right magic in Sea Season helps the Berry Maidens (bees) visit all the dulu nut trees, thus ensuring a good harvest. Later in the year, the dulu nuts can be gathered, then eaten or stored. One attractive possibility is to bury the dulu nuts underground for storage, yielding, in the depths of Dark Season, a rich crop of very tasty dulu nut grubs (already in the nuts at harvest but they grow big and fat and juicy, see.) Aside from the obvious benefits of such delicious, fat-rich food being available in Dark Season, this delicacy is much sought after by Darkmen and could be used to stave off an attack. [10] Keith’s character. [11] ‘Guaranteed to cure all septessential ills, malaises and diverse minor ailments.’ A supposed Lesillan recipe. [12] A learned, refined and, above all, rich Pelandan Second of the ket of Mintinus, the noble Kratikos has served as Keshborvo's patron for nearly a dozen years. He corresponds frequently with his client, being especially interested in the knowledge and observances of daily life and differing philosophies that Keshborvo gains on his mercantile ventures. In his younger days, Kratikos was an academic expert in grotaron brachiognomy. Indeed, it was his expeditions to the West that brought the hitherto-fabled gigantic race to the light of Imperial scholarly scrutiny. His corpus of work on the mythic and gigantologic implications of elbow extension, arm-hair density and relative tri-arm muscular development is a model of its kind, and a pioneering study in eugenics. Unfortunately Kratikos' later career was blighted by his open advocation of the existence of the legendary peak-hopping, sabre-toothed spirit mountain mammoths -- who are invisible to all but grotarons. Rumours of an over-indulgence of gocha root spread. His works on the mammoths' magical life, and even their supposed lost graveyard on the Spirit World, were less well received.

Seconded - that picture's ace!

Some ostrich-rider children ride captive ducks, to learn the ropes.

I'm afraid I just tend to do stuff for myself, Ainda, on account of: (i) being abysmally slow at getting anything done (seriously – no statement is too hyperbolic in this regard), which means I have a terrible backlog of things I feel I have to finish; and (ii) being conscious of the fact that when I have done stuff for others in the past, it's not turned out as well as I'd hoped, and I feel bad, no matter how polite they are. But thank you for the kind words and offer!