Below are the 9 most recent journal entries recorded in Asterov Rhugundy's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, October 24th, 2007
3:49 pm	While Leo and Lex went to work on their respective machinations, Frulimon and I, and my heavy calvary elite guard, made way for Doblian. Traveling south is always risky, because of our recalcitrant Vamadzi neighbors who don't have the sense to stay crumpled when we've trod them over. But, once we got to Lake Oronin, tensions lifted, as Frulimon has some lingering relationship with Castle Blue. He decided to visit them while we stopped at Megladirth, after neglecting to tell me the occasion would take several days. I received a warm reception for the Imal of Megladirth. His ambition was to secede with Doblian and join with Carmania. There is great strategic importance for us in doing so, for that would give us a major transportation hub in the Western Reaches. I let him butter me up and lavish praises on me while I feigned gratitude. I then put on my serious face and moaned to him my concern over the hellish state of affairs for our poor friend, the Satrap of Doblian. At this, the Imal visibly recoiled, having no love for our blessed Satrap. That is, until I assured him that he was the Satrap's biggest hope in surviving the oncoming disaster, and that the Doblian Monarch would be beholden to him in return. He smiled as he was no doubt imagining the Satrap appearing before him on hands and knees in abject supplication. Afterwards, the Imal promised me safe passage east and even provided more to my armed entourage. Frulimon returned after a few days with the news that Castle Blue had provided him means of talking to them by spitting in a river or something. We've got to get him to set his sights higher than say, just below his kneecaps. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
10:26 am	The Rhugundys plot and plan It's usually hard for me to convince Leo to go along with anything...but in this case, my ideas made his bloodshot eyes light up and focus. I proposed that he work his way into the heart of Spohl itself and seduce the great Harridan herself, Yolanella.  Ostensibly, because Spohlite traditionalists who insist a man take the throne would welcome this change. And, despite Leo having Spohlite blood, he's been gone from that province for many years, and thus has no ties to rival nobility who might seek the throne themselves. I didn't need to explain this to him as his satyric mind was already formulating ways to bed this ancient insect and wrest the grand prize from between her wrinkled thighs. Leo of course wanted immediate family reinstatement in return for his services. I said I would grant it to him upon completion of such services. I felt it was best to keep a carrot dangling on the end of a stick to keep him motivated. Besides, we wanted to maintain the illusion that Leo was estranged from Rhugundy in order to better convince Yolanella he wasn't working with us. He flustered and raged about these conditions, but in the end his libido and desire to rape people in power won out. In the meantime, we decided it would be best for Lex to "lead" the army of Yolanella's enemies. This would make it look like family member was fighting family member, when really all Lex would be doing was to prevent these nobles from mobilizing on Yolanella before Leo snakecharmed the throne of Spohl from her. Intelligence gathering revealed that the dread Chaos/Stormbull alliance would reach High Rock in 8 weeks. Frulimon and I would go to Doblian to "rescue" our beloved Satrap before this happened. Having a deposed ruler in your pocket means leverage, even if he is your lifelong friend. (Comment on this)
9:50 am	6 years later This family conference had one long-absent member and one new one. The former is the brother I exiled from our domain and stripped of his family titles. The latter is another one of father's forgotten whelps who went on to become a Sorceror of the Great Lie. Carmanian society frowns upon those who betray family and practice the dark arts. My feelings are that familial bonds work wonders, despite the somewhat dubious qualities certain family members possess. I am first a Lion of Rhugundy, and secondly a Carmanian. These are treasonous thoughts, by Lunar standards. Which, I fear, has mitigated Carmanian standards.  The Lunar Empire has at this point been without an Emperor for several years, and the structure is showing signs of fragment. Carmania is still considered Citizen-Foreigners. Moreover, the Empire made the fatal mistake of putting too many eggs in one basket by sending many of their greatest heroes to Dragon Pass to build a grand temple, and thereby include the barbarian lands inside the Glowline. Those intentions were quashed when Orlanthi hero questers arranged to have the temple eaten by a World Dragon when construction completed. The Dragon feasted heartily on copious amounts of Lunar ego. Thus, I am favored to believe now would be the time to withdraw Carmania from the Lunar collective. Of course, I would have too difficult a time convincing my fellow Imals to cultivate the same notion. But my warmongering brother Lex shares my viewpoint, and Frulimon has always went willingly with our goals, especially when we bring out the hot pokers. To successfully bring my plans to fruition however, I knew it was essential to bring Leo back into my good graces and at the same time, welcome our new practitioner of dark arts brother Xern into our pit of vipers. The news of the world around us was potentially earth-shattering. But if we made our move, we could profit from the chaos before things fell apart. Our neighboring state of Spohl faced a new threat from their Queen, Yolanella. She killed her latest husband, declared none of her sons could rule, and took the throne for herself. Civil war was brewing as she spun her latest victims in her poisonous web. At the same time, my good friend the Satrap of Doblian faced adversity from Oronin in the form of numerous Dart Wars. The Oronins were targeting important officials, trade routes, and centers of commerce in secret terrorist attacks. Moreover, Megladirth, Doblian's western state bordering on Lake Oronin, wanted to secede and join with Carmania. The Satrap had few allies, and I saw that I must come to his aid. But not in a way he would have preferred. Finally, and most deadly of all the threats, Chaos hordes led by the creature Ralzekark had somehow convinced Stormbull leader Odie to ally with them. They were leading an invasion north, heading towards High Rock in eastern Anadikki, south of Doblian.  I would have thought Chaos had the best chance of courting favor with Glamour's Ruling Council, but that's just me. (Comment on this)
Monday, November 21st, 2005
7:18 pm	Battle Mobilizing a trade caravan between two enemy forces is no easy feat. We first had to get the Mostali to refill the trenches he evoked, and we literally rode on the backs of his gnomes. While this was going on, Stavasmade a deal with the Pentian exiles, promising them grazelands to happily gambol upon the rest of their lives. Meanwhile, the dark horde pushing north consisted of trolls and their kin. The Kastoks cried that they had never seen that many assemble before, nor did they have any idea they were going to mobilize in such a massive wave towards them. Etyries willing, when we return, I aim to get this bastion to the east better fortified. One would think the Lunars would have learned by now not to bare such a prominent soft underbelly to the beast, much as they did when they lost Dragon Pass to the Orlanthi. Looks like Carmania will have to save them from the East again. Say what you will, but whips have a way of keeping masses of panicky merchants and tourists under control. As tradesmen hurredly packed their wares and tried to control their livestock, I instructed my cavalry to properly motivate the caravaneers to prompt speed. We barely managed to get our train across the bridge when the troll horde descended on us. I myself found myself and my retinue swamped by hundreds of trollkin poachers attempting to steal our goods. Fruleimon came to life upon smelling troll spoor, so he faced off against one of their biggest and surliest. As this was happening, the Spider Rider faced six of his counterparts, other riders of fell creatures serving demonic lords. Stavas, as usual, left his body behind to combat in the spirit plane. I could not see the Mostali for the mass of trolls descending upon him, their mouths undoubtedly slavering with thoughts of dwarfen hors d'uerves. Never before had I ever faced such numbers. The landscape all but disappeared, crawling with vile life, destroying anything in their way, as locusts pillage fields of crop. I thought surely we were doomed. Suddenly, The clouds parted, allowing sunlight to brighten the land, causing the troll hordes to recoil in horror. Stavas had somehow invoked the Sun God to drive away the vast clouds of darkness. Our forces, rejuvenated by this turn of events, found their resolve and attacked the oncoming monstrous horde. The trollkin tried filching our goods like ants at a picnic. Having none of that, we dispatched the vermin with due haste despite their overwhelming numbers. When money's on the line, I get deadly. Fruleimon slew the troll he fought, and gained the brute's head as a trophy. The Spider Rider invoked some sort of chaos magic, enabling him to grow as many limbs as all his foes combined, and thus he and his arachnid mount fought his attackers on equal terms and slew them all. Stavas managed to dispatch some troll shamen and their fetches in mystical spirit battle, and the Mostali evaded his would-be snackers. We avoided the slaughter, but the massive troll hordes continued their migration north. We were but a momentary distraction to them. I shudder to think what destruction they will cause once they reach more populated areas. Having escaped the predicament, the caravan proceeded east to the Redhair fort, wary of new dangers along the way. (10 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, November 14th, 2005
5:57 pm	The journey continues As Pablar continued to riot, we set the caravan in due course. Soon, we would be exiting the Lunar Glowline, so the Lunars would no longer feel the protective grace of their Red Moon. Of course, it's rare that any Carmanian knows the reassuring warmth of the Glowline, seeing as we're "Citizen Foreigners." I for one have never experienced its effects. My soul has only known cold, despite whatever orb hangs in the sky. The Kastoks served as our escorts. All throughout the journey, they boasted of the powers of their order, which comprises any who are willing to serve, regardless of background. They all supposedly assume solidarity through Brotherhood in Arms. It seemed to me the Kastoks were in dire need of proving themselves, hence their willingness to guard the eastern reach of the Empire from hostiles. After nearly a months travel, we finally arrived at the famed Kastok fort. At first, I thought we were taking a break when the Kastoks started dismounting and collecting their gear, but what I thought was a pile of rubble with the occasional pointed stick poking out turned out to be their famed fortress. Moreover, this hovel's garrison barely numbered a hundred. There was no chance we could bring the caravan in for shelter. We couldn't even fit the Honor Guard inside this rubbish heap. And this protects us from Pentian aggression? Perhaps the reason they haven't invaded the Lunar Empire again is because they collapse into paralyzing fits of laughter when they behold the Kastok Fort. Nevertheless, the fort does overlook a bridge used to ford the wide raging river that flows from the south. Any enemy aggression would bottleneck at the bridge and become easy prey to missile artillery from the overlooking fortress. From here, it would be over a month's travel to the Redhair Fort, our next stopover after trekking across the savage Pentian plains. Best to take advantage of this break. We decided scouting missions would be prudent at this point, to investigate if the way were clear in the foreseeable distance. Turns out it was not, presumably because the scouts never returned. Most distressing. Brother Stavos assumed a spiritual journey, and returned to inform us he detected a mass of spirits to the northwest, controlled by an equally massive number of shamen. Pentian shamen. Turns out they were part of a contigent who were moving towards this very spot. As the Kastoks took defensive positions, the Mostali invoked his gnomes, bizarre earth spirits, to excavate ditches and pit traps around the bridge and fort areas. It seems as though some of these Pentians have no need of ground to ride, as it turned out. They sent some of their raiders riding on the very winds themselves. Fortunately, the mortar holding the Kastok Foretress together continued to stay glued, and our forces held off the invaders. They were only a tiny part of our troubles, however. True to form, Stavas deserted us and decided to parley with the Pentians on his own. Apparently you can take the boy out of the back woods, but you can't take the back woods out of the boy. During his mission, Stavas managed to contact the Pentian band without being killed, and grew sympathetic to their cause. Turns out they were running away from a growing influence of heretics in their culture, and these were the starving remnants of exiles. Heretics in barbarian lands? Do they preach abstinance from intercourse with sheep, perhaps? Meanwhile, scouts from the south reported back with even more alarming news: a horde of monstrosities were approaching from the south, obscuring the very sun with their miasmatic stench. The land darkened and trembled as they journeyed upriver. I felt there was no choice but to evacuate, and get the caravan moving east as quickly as possible. We could retreat west back to Lunar lands, but I did not want to abandon this trade excursion I had been working toward for years. If we had retreated, unfriendly Oronin would have served as our haven from persuing Pentian exiles and hordes of dark folk. No, we must continue to Krylorela at all costs. (Comment on this)
Monday, October 31st, 2005
8:52 am	Departing Palbar This morning, news spread that the HonEel Ceremony would still be taking place, despite the unrest the night before. We gathered in the central plaza after having our guard put on duty to protect our livestock and goods from potential trouble. After opening festivities, the Oronin Satrap took the podium and announced the results of last night's Truth Contest, declaring the White Moonies the winner. The crowd erupted mostly in cheers, with some traditionalists making their displeasure heard. Then the Satrap declared that due to outside interference from the Carmanians, he declared the Contest NULL AND VOID and that the sacrifice would go on as planned. That solidifed it. Oronin and Carmania are now enemies. I will make sure this swine goes down in flames. The multitudes immediately broke out in riots. Fighting broke out all around us. I stood my place. I felt like an observer watching a pit fight, unsure which contestant to bet on, but silently enjoying the blood and spectacle of it. Most surprising was the power displayed by the White Moonies that Forsake All Material Goods. They ran into the fracas entirely naked, but the Pablar Guard's weapons bounced off them as if hitting full plate armor. I instructed my Guard to evacuate our horses immediately, and if they had to crush any slave pens to make their escape, so be it. Momentarilly, I saw the Satrap's Royal Guard retreat back into Pablar's Central Keep. The rioting outside had gotten too hard to control. I hope when we return next year, the slaves will be in charge. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 25th, 2005
9:20 am	The Truth Contest In the Lunar Empire, words can be as deadly as swords. I don't mean in any metaphorical sense either. Actual, spoken words in a lively debate can physically kill the intellectually weak. Maybe I should get an army of vizirs to debate the Pelandans... Apparently, the Truth Contest focuses power from the participants, and the results can be as event-altering as Hero Quests. Tonight's debate would be if Oronin would continue to allow ritual huuman sacrifice to empower the corn crop, or would adopt new rituals as suggested by the White Moonies. The White Moonies are an annoying but growing sect that thinks the Moon will lose its red luster after years of warfare and combat, then will become white as years of everlasting peace will reign. Thus, they preach non-violence. Yes, they preach it even though their prophecy calls for centuries of certain violence. As contradictory as religious maxims tend to be, the White Moonies have everyone beat. I'm thinking the Spider Rider purposely mauled their gathering in an attempt to make the Empire a little less stupid. To complicate matters further, the White Moonies are of two minds: one side carries their nonviolent creed so far as to not even crush bothersome insects or defend their lives when faced with certain death, while the other side takes the nonviolent stance to mean forsaking all material goods in order to prevent any desires for them by foreign and agressive parties. Thus, the reasons for war and conquest are taken away. Naturally, such ideas are anathema to me. Oddly enough, I found myself siding with these idiots later that night. Representing the pro-sacrifice contingent would be the Perceptor-Heirarch IndelOyera of the HonEel Radiance and her Alanthore sidekick. They may as well have been part of the Satrap of Palbar's harem, as much as he groped and drooled and fussed over them. It would appear the Satrap had the deck stacked in his favor for this event. His new lackey Leo and his lover the Razoress would be moderating this travesty of addled pacifists and bloodthirsty corncob abluters. The pacifist wing of the White Moonies started the debate, going on about educating the masses with thoughts of bluebirds and white doves. "Let's not fight" is their warcry. Their battle hymn is the rousing "Wouldn't It Be Nice If Everyone Were Nice." There would always be a red moon because of their bleeding hearts, I surmised. I decided not to participate in the discussion, since I consider war the best way to stimulate economy and commerce. Such remarks might not have gone over too well with the audience, most particularly future trading partners. Interestingly enough, the Nonviolents' proclamations provoked the ire of the Mostali. Such thoughts did not fit into their mysterious plan. During the debate phase, where audience members were allowed to contribute their thoughts, he invoked some sort of dwarven sorcery that caused the pacifist on stage to collapse into some babbling mound of palsied flesh. Nobody noticed the difference. The Forsakers-of-All-Material-Goods took the stage next. After listening to their drivel, I couldn't take it any more. Furthermore, I'd go broke if anybody listening actually takes this apostasy to heart. I entered the debate by asking how they planned to feed their bodies after forsaking all material goods, with love? With that, the priestess of their cult disrobed on stage, much in the provocative manner of a hired courtesan who strips at stag parties, and instantly won the audience to her side. This is not to say the arguments of the HonEel Radiance made any more sense. In order to convince the audience of the value of sacrifice, IndelOyera poured her heart out for the noble sacrifice Yelm made in disintegrating himself so that new powers might spring from his remains. Lunars simply cannot admit Yelm got destroyed by Orlanth, you see. Barbarians may be inferior, but they're also brutal and deadly. All the more reason they need to be wiped out. Besides, it's not as if gods remain permanently dead. They just go incognito, as the sun god did, and reincarnate. By the way, Yelm owes the Rhugundy brothers magnanimously since we released him from imprisonment all those years ago. After the Perceptor-Heirarch made her pitch, I got up to speak. IndelOyera's blathering tripe incensed me even more than the White Moonies' pacifist drivel. The Lunar Empire was not based on sacrifice! If anything, we caused our enemies to make sacrifices when they battled us. Besides, where was the proof of power by sacrifice? All they had to show for it was a few side dishes of corn at the banquet. My rage surely inspired my words, for never before had I spoken so eloquently. I called upon Lunar patriotism and other types of imperialist pathos to appeal to the crowd's zeal for strength and solidarity. I said sacrifice only made our beloved empire weak, and copied the barbaric ways of Orlanth (which is untrue, but the audience despised Orlanthi too much to care). While my brothers lent support to my oratory, so too did the Spider Rider and the Mostali. Unconventional allies they were, but strong nonetheless. My speech aroused such patriotic spirit from the audience, the Perceptor-Heirarch was booed off the stage and her cohort escaped the hall for fear of her life. The Satrap was apoplectic and shot looks of pure hatred my way. But then something odd happened. Upon witnessing this turn of events, Leo stood straight up and a beam of light from the heavens shone directly into his eyes, holding him still. Apparently the power of this debate activated his Illumination! I knew he had wanted to persue that path before, but I thought it to be another one of this scams. It seems the old boy was serious, and moreover, if he did not succeed in retaining this influx of information, he would lose his mind to Occlusion. Without thinking, the brothers Rhugundy united to save one of our own. We may despise Leo, but he is of our blood. We combined our powers to focus his mind and lend him strength. After what seemed like hours of intense of intense concentration but was only a few seconds, the bright beam disappeared, leaving Leo to collapse to the floor. His mind was unharmed. He had survived this test. Would we be here next time for him, however? People have often asked me since then why I spared Leo's life. I never wanted his death. I wanted his penance. Of course, Leo would rather die than give me that, but the door is open. Leo may be a bastard, but he's our bastard. Besides, I was just thinking earlier that day how useful he'd be in undermining the Satrap's operation here... It remained to be seen if the grand sacrifical ceremony would be performed on the morrow. The Satrap may have to sacrifice more than he intended to give the corn fields their blood. (Comment on this)
Monday, October 24th, 2005
10:01 am	Reunion at Palbar Leo, after all these years. It was all I could do to keep myself from strangling his fat neck. Frulimon was slow to recognize our long-lost brother, but the realization stunned him into silence for the rest of the night. Stavas kept silent as well, but eyed Leo sharply, as a mountain lion will stay absolutely still in waiting for his prey to present an opportunity to attack. Leo was just as surprised as we, but soon put on his game face, which meant he was already spinning a web of lies and falsehoods for when we would meet. There he was...the same brother who travelled with a wagonload of prostitutes he trained to spy on the nobles he pimped them out to. The same brother who tried to acquire father's spirit and sell him off to the highest bidder. The same brother who warded our 15-year old cousin then sodomized the poor lad on the floors of his very own court. The same brother who emptied our Brass Mountains quarry of silver ore and floated away via Moonboat while we were fighting to keep our satrapi from being invaded. The irony is that earlier that eveniing, I was just thinking how handy it would be to have him around. I had learned that the Satrap of Palbar would be virtually the sole provider of human sacrifices for the Corn Rituals, having met the Emperor's compromise to use only virgins. While I am not certainly not opposed to slavery, I saw that an opportunity to cut off this macabre supply of unspoiled flesh would severely hurt Oronin's corn production. Were I able to procure Leo's services, the slave masters who sold stock to the Satrap would shortly be dead, or else he would deflower every one of those virgins personally. I suppose that is what kept me from putting a sword through his heart. I always looked upon every encounter with a living being as profitable opportunity, even with the warden who locks me in a jail cell. That, and after all, Leo is family. Eventually, I got to meet His Grace and get my three seconds of recognition. In my stupor, I had forgotten to present the Satrap with our gift. Not that it would have mattered, for it became my goal to totally break this man and drive him to poverty. Leo stayed behind as the Satrap moved on, all smiles and warmth. Does my dear brother not realize I stopped believing his lies when we were toddlers? Lex once fashioned a ring that grew cold in the presence lies. It didn't work on Leo. He honestly believed himself. "Ah my long-lost beloved brother," says the garrulous swine, "thank the gods we are together at last! I have missed you, and Stavas, and...what was your name again?" "Leo. I see you have done well for yourself. Managed to convince the Satrap of Oronin to take you on as a bootlicker, I see." "On the contrary, my dear Asterov! I serve JarEel, the Razoress! I have seen the error of my ways, and now serve a noble cause! I am a new man! I am beholden to the Fourth Inspiration of Moonson, and serve as her envoy." More like her pimp, I thought. "Ah, does that mean you'll be returning the Moonboat of silver ore you stole from us?" "Why, I sent it back already," he says with his snake tongue waggling. "Did you not receive it yet?" "Don't insult my intelligence, Leo. Lunar Couriers may be slow, but not six years slow." "Why, my brother, I am appalled! Why do you persecute me? I am a new man! After my journey, I have decided to right my many wrongs and atone for my sinful past! Yes, I realize I made some mistakes along the way, but surely you see they are the typical misjudgments of young men sewing their wild oats?" Then the bloated crocodile goes into one of his famous soliloquies of his alleged redemption. Afterwards, he tried to suck up to Frulimon and Stavas, but they were having none of it. Frulimon refused to speak to him, and Stavas merely growled, "Father is most displeased with you." All smiles, Leo asks "Oh, and how is father doing?" "Ask him yourself," says I. "He serves as the family lorus." With that, I unfurled the Rhugundy banner. Leo immediately took sick and asked me to put it away. Then he pleaded with us to attend the Truth Contest later that night and went in search of his new mistress. Leo, moderating a Truth Contest? This should be interesting. (Comment on this)
Monday, October 17th, 2005
9:48 am	First day of our voyage We have reached Palbar, the westernmost part of the Lunar Empire. From this point onward, we shall spend months travelling through hostile territory, the deathplace of the god of this continent, and dangerous mountain ranges, all to get a caravan of hundreds of traders, livestock and valuable goods to the markets of the Eastern Empire of Kralorela. Shouldn't be that much of a challenge, since we've already crossed Lunar territory, and it doesn't get much more dangerous than that. Since Palbar is the last breadbasket of civilization until we reach the Eastern shore, it is both the most glorious and most dangerous of cities. It has only existed for a century, but it is constructed by modern thinking minds. Not only does it have to defend from the barbarous Pentians to the east, but by ambitious Lunar sharks to the west as well. I count myself. Palbar is also the one place where the Emperor, Praised be his Name, is allowing ritual blood sacrifice to stimulate the corn crop. No doubt the Emperor was coming off one of his numerous benders when he came up with that idea. I still think plentiful corn can be produced from a combination of sex-crazed fertility god worshippers and back-breaking Pelandan labor, but that's just me. Apparently there are those who believe fields drenched with the blood of captured barbarian slaves is just the thing to get those seedlings sprouting. This will be my first year particpating in the Silk Road Caravan, and I am eagerly looking forward to it. With me are my brothers Frulimon and Stavas. Leo is still missing (and under exile) and Lex is in charge of House Sharpan until my return. I hope court life will not bore him entirely to the point of declaring war on our neighbors, and I furthermore hope he remembers the agreement we have concerning my wife. Frulimon is a sullen brute of a man, trying to fit in with the high society culture we have ascended to, but sadly lacking in any noble qualities. He relishes in any opportunity to squash Pelandan peasants underfoot, but forgets to wash his boots before attending court balls. He will always carry his reputation as Bridge Killer with him, as he once took our commands to establish checkpoints a tad too literally and singlehandedly stopped trade commerce in the heart of our kingdom for a day as corpses piled up on Darios Bridge. He supposedly has a talking horse, but I'm thinking it's a part of childhood fantasy he has yet to outgrow. Still, he tries his best, and maybe this excursion will open his shell-like mind somewhat. Stavas, my half-caste brother, has achieved some sort of spirituality that somehow got him the position of Vizir to the Padisha's Eye. True to his barbarian origins, he usually clads himself in loincloths and lion skin headdresses, then covers himself with a white robe for official functions. Then he sits in fields of bison dung, eats rotted fungus, and communes with spirits. His unconventional methods did lead to the discovery of our father's captive spirit however, so he has earned in place in the heroic annals of Carmania. Still, I wished he bathed occasionally. As my brothers and I assembled our retinue of servants, riggers, calvary, and trade wagons, we met other members of the Caravan. I introduced myself to the Master of Wagons, and discovered that he has long wanted to meet with me and talk of establishing a trade partnership. I readily agreed. I thank Etyries's blessings of good fortunes on me this day and consider this a good omen for the rest of our trip. Too bad I trust the gods even less than I do people. I still await the day that Etyries rips off her face and reveals the laughing Trickster god underneath. During our milling about in the town square, some commotion disrupted as a result of a spider rider who tried to leap over a mass of demonstrating White Moonies. The giant spider wound up getting impaled on one of the pilgrim's shin bones. This broohaha was rivaled by the arrival of a retinue of Mostali dwarves and their travelling machines. I recognized their master, as he took part in the races during Glamour's festival some years ago. He rode some sort of automaton resembling a horse, with steam puffing out of its armorlike folds. Naturally, I was curious to see how this grand contraption was powered, but the Mostali master was closemouthed on the details and became incensed when I asked if it was for sale. I confess I am unused to dealing with dwarves, as my previous encounter with them was to watch them work with silver deposits in the Brass Mountains as they ignored legions of bloodthirsty undead and a portal to Hell nearby. Still, I am optimistic to get some sort of dialogue going with this Mostali contigent, as I understand they will be travelling with the Caravan. I wonder what they do intend to sell, if not the automatons? That night, we were all invited to the Satrap of Palbar's grand fete. Surely no expense was spared, as the Satrap's residence rivals that of the great lords of Glamour itself. Frulimon expressed desire for such a residence, but he has yet to understand that means more for our enemies to steal. I prefer to have wealth distributed throughout the Empire, rather than tied to one place. We all need bolt holes. We were introduced to such grand dignitaries as the leaders of area cults and religions, Kastok miltary captains, and other local officials hoping to get noticed. One of the Kastoks ran afoul of the Spider Rider, and the two exchanged heated words. They will be settling their differences in a mounted duel tomorrow. I should like to see this unconventional fellow in action. As I understand it, he is volunteering to escort the Caravan, and does not intend to do any trading or receive any payment. Men of principles can be effective tools. Later, the herald trumpets sounded. The Satrap has arrived, and all eyes turned his way. He had two escorts by his side. On his right, JarEel the Razoress - the Fourth Inspiration of Moonson. She is apparently here on behalf of Glamour and our beloved Emperor. On his left, I couldn't believe my eyes. I was so stupefied, I dropped my wineglass. It was my brother Leo. (Comment on this)