MP Game - Yarnspinners

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 2 ----

I really hate this country.

I went to see the village leaders after the seventh dawn on which the butter had gone missing. In a diplomatic but (I thought) firm way, I recommended they teach their children some respect for the soldiers who defend them from occasional invaders, and muck out stables the rest of the time, and how if our foodstuffs continued to be stolen we would be forced to ask the Golanans (a hated neighboring tribe) if they desired a cheap band of soldiers. I expected them to vigorously deny everything, or plead with me to stay, or at least acknowledge my complaint.

But no: as soon as they understood what I was saying, a great cheer erupted from the onlookers, and the leaders began smiling and chattering excitedly, clapping me on my back as if I had just announced that a volcanic eruption had wiped out Golana.

"But what about my butter?" I asked Balachandra, a young man who as a boy had spent time in our camps and had recently become a local magician of sorts. He usually helped me make sense of local activities, but now he was as inscrutably enthused as the rest of his cursed countrymen. He grinned broadly, and announced to the crowd, "Pandokos wants more butter!" to which they responded with more cheering, and a bit of singing. Some maidens began to dance, and the mob descended into revelry.

Seeing that it was hopeless, and in no mood to join the festivities, I decided to go home and try again the next day. But they would not let me leave. An old lady rushed in front of Xanthos, startling him considerably, and fell to her knees, crying out loudly. The tight crowd forced me to dismount and walk around the old woman, but people kept pressing close to me and murmuring. A few milkmaids giggled about how the butter thief was welcome at their homes any time, and more than one mother pushed forward a screaming child, as if my armor were somehow blessed, and not smelling rather strongly of manure.

The next morning, I was awoken early by the sound of the murmuring. When I emerged, the crowd, several score strong, gave a great cheer. They came to catch the thief, I thought momentarily, pleased that I had gotten through after all. But no: my daily ration of butter was completely gone, and there were numerous buttery handprints all around my window.

"Did you at least see who it was?" I growled at the crowd, some of whom appeared to have been there since nightfall. Balachandra laughed, and said, "Of course, of course, didn't you?" and began leading the mob in a bizarre sort of chant.

At which point I decided that I would go back to sleep, in the hopes that when I woke up the world would make sense again.

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