tuxedohamm
Disguised as crow.
Rorlapum[1]
Soriv had just stepped back into the shade of his small, two-room, mud-brick hut. Sitting in the middle of the first room were two bundles of rorlapum stalks. His brother had just delivered them from the south to Soriv's hut along the northeastern border with Guangfei. His hut was part of a small village along a common trading path leading into Guangfei. Soriv picked up the bundles and carried them to the back room. Inside were many additional bundles of rorlapum stalks piled along one wall. In one of the opposite corners a few rotting stalks sat in a small pit filled with stagnant water. In the other corner were a number of empty mud pots stacked in one another.
Soriv dropped the bundles he carried among the rest. He stepped to an older bundle and pulled a stalk from it at snapped it into two pieces. As he sniffed the broken ends, Soriv stepped into the front room to discover a man standing just inside the door to the outside.
"Soriv, we meet again. It is too pleasing."
Soriv nodded at the greeting as he stepped over to his fire pit and placed the stalks on top of the burning embers. Turning he held his hands and arms open to the man and smiled. "Terrsok, it is pleasing." [2]
It was a slight offense to Terrsok, but he had learned to ignore such insults. Most of the villagers here treated him poorly. They gave him his Mag name of Terrsok when he first arrived to do business. Terrsok literaly means dirt worm in Mag.
"So you want more rorlapum? Another bundle. Same as before. I'll get it," Soriv turned back towards the back room.
"Wait, Soriv. I need more."
Soriv turned towards Terrsok and raised an eyebrow. "More? What are your people doing? Eating it?"
"I have a cart full of the finest garments from my land. Those who breathe the smoke of the rorlapum have fallen in love with it. They don't burn it like you. They contain the smoke in a pot and breathe it all at once."
"No wonder they demand more. I burn one, maybe two sticks a day, in an open pit, and with the doors open so I can breathe," Soriv laughed. "I bet they never get up to do work either."
"Well..."
"I will give you five bundles this time instead of two. Next time, bring me something useful, we know how to make clothing here and I don't want to look like you." Soriv went into the back room and retrieved the bundles.
When he returned Terrsok was already unloading the clothing outside the hut. Soriv would eat well tonight. He had a trader that would gladly take the garments to the market in Seden.
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Notes:
1: Rorlapum is a common plant native to the southern portion of Magland. For many ages the people of the region knew that it could be used to calm oneself. The stalk when dried has the most potency when slowly burned.
(Leaves as of now are mostly useless when burnt and are left in the fields to decay and replenish the soil. Though if desperate one could burn the leaf and get an extremely mild high.)
Only recently has it become cultivated. The various soldiers that have been through the region time and again learned to use it to relax those injured and/or dying. Many have returned as the borders opened peacefully seeking it out, it has some addictive properties if used too often.
Some farmers realizing the profit potential have moved away from food production to rorlapum and use money and bartering to purchase their food. As a side note, the roots can be ground up and used on food as a bitter flavoring and lack the potency or addictive qualities of the dried stalks.
2: The proper greeting would have been to reply the same way - "It is too pleasing." Additionally, many Mags have trained at one point or another to fight unarmed. Holding one's hands and arms open suggests that one is unarmed and a request that the other person present themselves unarmed also. Among Mags, it is seen as a sign of distrust and a desire to handicap the other.
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OOC: Maybe more appropriate prior to the previous update, but still applicable now.
my evil ally...
