The Secrets of Kytar by deepfriedpencils | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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Chapter 3

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Yana returned to the top deck with her meager stash of personal belongings, a large knapsack filled with a few changes of clothing, her father's medallion, and a letter from her mother, to find Ladrus in what appeared to be a trance. The wizard had his eyes closed, and was moving his hands and fingers in slow, deliberate movements that told her that magic was involvedYana took a few steps towards Ladrus, intending to wait near him until he was finished so she could ask what that was all about, but was stopped by Karima who stepped in her path with a placating smile. 

"He's guiding the ship into the port," Karima told her, reading Yana's thoughts. "I think it would be best for everyone on board if he wasn't interrupted." Yana studied this pirate captain with a new sense of wariness. Karima was a tall, curvaceous woman, with bright yellow eyes, tanned skin, and long inky hair. Yana had grown fond of the woman over their journey despite the fact that she had been entertaining the idea that her own blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin, and slightly more muscular build made the two of them seem opposites, though the two women were evenly matched for height.  

"Isn't Merillion supposed to take care of that for you?" Yana asked after taking a moment to remember the name of the Requiem's Storm Sorcerer. Ladrus had told her that every ship in Kytar had one, specifically to handle situations like this, where there was no wind to propel canvas sails. 

"He's been in Sick Bay since we got him out of the Draugr," Karima said glumly. The crew had decided to name the undead amalgamation after the plural of the monster, which was just draugr. Yana liked to imagine it was capitalized if nothing else. She crossed her arms and looked toward Ladrus, who was now muttering to himself in some language Yana did not know. "He probably caught something in that thing's belly. Normally, I'd just assume he was just milking the fact that there's another mage on board who can do his job for him, work-shy knife ear." Yana shot a covert glance at Ladrus, hoping he hadn't heard the slur that could have easily applied to him as much as the elf. "But I know elven constitution hasn't been what it used to be since their Exodus." She had said it all casually, but Karima now had Yana's full attention. 

"Exodus? Is that what they called it when they all went to... wherever it was they went?" She faltered. This was the sort of thing she was supposed to figure out when she received the Burden of Knowledge, but Yana hadn't considered the possibility that people outside of Ikar would know anything about the Nightmare War.  

"The Other Side," Karima said, as if she were only refreshing Yana's memory. "When the fey races were nearly destroyed by the War, all of the rest of the worlds gnomes, halflings, elves, and whoever else went through the Bagoddh Tree to the Other Side, where fairies live." 

Bollocks, Yana thought. I spend THREE MONTHS with this woman without asking her a damned thing about this. 

"When did they all come back?" Yana pressed. "Did they all come back? or was it just a few of them? Did they all come here?" Karima turned to look at her uncomfortably. 

"I think don't think I should be telling you about that sort of thing." Karima said meekly. "Ladrus told me it was something important to your people and I don't want to step on any toes." 

Fucking bollocks, Yana thought, deflating. "Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"If it's any consolation," said Karima, "I don't know the answers to any of those questions, so you'd have to ask Ladrus anyway. Most folks out here know a little bit about it, but he's a proper historian. If it were up to me, I'd want to learn from an expert. Here, looks like we've got enough momentum for the oars to get us the rest of the way. I'll let Ladrus know he can stop." 

Yana watched as Karima crept up behind the wizard and whispered something in his ear. Magic had the potential to be more dangerous than a sky filled with falling arrows, and if a spell needed to be ended early, it was best to let the mage know in a way that wouldn't make them lose concentration. Otherwise, they might twitch a finger the wrong way, or mispronounce an incantation, which could have any number of unpleasant effects on anyone or anything nearby. Ladrus made a few last cursory movements of his fingers before closing his hands into fists and touching his knuckles together before him. He then opened his eyes and looked around, before spotting Yana and beckoning her to come closer. 

"Anything exciting planned for your stay here?" Karima asked brightly to the pair. "First time outside of Acredian lands," she said smiling at Yana. "There's all kinds of trouble you can get yourself into out here, without having to worry about offending some dead god."  

"I've never been in Acredian lands," Yana said with a little confusion. 

"And there's a living god around here you should worry about offending." Ladrus corrected. To Yana he said, "Most Kytaran citizens tend to think of all of Ikar as being Acredian land. With good reason, you'll agree if you ever encounter one of their Conversion Bands." He turned back to Karima. 

"Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. The current plan is to spend most of our time in Governor Drunning's library. My plan, anyway, but Yana here keeps insisting that's what she wants to be doing as well." 

"I need to take on the Burden," Yana said in a tight quiet voice. How must this fearsome pirate captain think of her? Some country bumpkin who's travelled halfway around the world with a gnome just to read in a foreign library? Karima held up her hands disarmingly. 

"Hey, to each their own. I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy my idea of a good time either." 

"You think so?" Yana asked, genuinely curious. "What would that be?" Karima looked out into the ocean behind them, and her face took on a far-off expression. 

"At the help of a ship that could man its own rigging, with a hold filled to burst with gold," she said as if she had it worked out long ago. "Not that I have anything against my crew, they've gotten me and the Requiem through hell and back. But sometimes I wish I didn't have to share the spoils of plunder." 

Yana's stomach turned slightly at the thought of spending more time at sea, and her head began to ache slightly at the thought of being alone on a ship. 

"You're right," she said in a pained voice, earning a laugh and a good-natured slap on the back from the captain.  

"Like I told you before, everyone gets seasick their first few times afloat. Just keep meditating and practicing your Sailors Runes and who knows? Maybe you'll be my next Storm Sorcerer after I finally fire Merillion."  

"I know you saw me." A new voice spoke up and Yana jumped slightly, before hearing the words and realizing this was a joke. She turned to see Merillion, the elf having strode up to the three of them without making a sound. 

"I didn't see you; I felt your footsteps on the deck," Karima told him turning to regard the man. "Your dainty fey footsteps are no match for a Kytaran captain's situational awareness." 

Merillion rolled his bright violet eyes and turned his attention to Ladrus. 

"Master Ladrus, please accept my apologies for being unable to see to my duties for today. The surgeon wouldn't let me exert myself and the captain had him bind me to my bunk." 

"Can't be too careful," Karima said to herself, loud enough for everyone present to hear. 

"Oh, it was no trouble," Ladrus told him, looking uncomfortable at Merillions formalities. "It's nice to get some use out of all of that training my grandmother gave me. I find so few uses for magic that can't be achieved through more conventional means." The statement caused a passing sailor to turn with furrowed eyebrows, before continuing with the crate he was carrying. Karima only chuckled and shook her head, but Merillion's expression turned to one of shock. He looked like a respected elder had just told him to stop acting like a fool. 

"Surely you jest," he said, "Gaining a magical presence is like being born a second time, it changes everything about oneself." 

"Oh, I'm not saying it didn't," said Ladrus. "I just like to keep my head down as much as possible. You never know who's out there looking for someone casting a spell, or how good they are at it." 

Merillion relaxed. "Of course," he said. "I should have expected one such as yourself, after having spent so much of your time in Acredian lands, would have such a sharp sense of danger. But the use of the arcane arts is somewhat more liberal here in the Kytaran Sea, where any Acredians we happen to meet will likely be resting at the bottom of the seabed before long." 

Merillion was the first elf Yana had ever encountered, and he had unfortunately lived up to so many of the negative elven stereotypes of pride and pompousness, and none of the positive ones, like grace and kindness. Tall and slender, the willowy man had bleach white hair that he wore down to his shoulder blades and dressed in elegant red robes that Yana thought must be a nightmare to keep looking so pristine. Although, given this current insight, she suspected that Merillion used magic for the task, and the idea that someone would use magic for something so ordinary made her skin crawl. 

"Right," Ladrus said slowly, as if he were looking for a way out of the conversation. He found one in Yana, and in the nearing stones of the quay the sailors had chosen to moor the Requiem to. 

"Yana, do you have everything you need." 

"Everything I plan to take with me." said Yana, equally eager to leave the exchange with the uptight elf. The sailors had now lowered the gangplank to the quay, and the other four passengers were making their way towards it.  

"Well then I suppose this is farewell, for now." Ladrus told the two sailors. "Be sure to send word to the Governor's Manor before you leave so Yana and I can come see you off."  

Merillion took a hand from Ladrus and Yana, without being prompted to do so, kissed them both, before whispering what sounded like a prayer in elvish.  

"May you both find what you seek," he said in common "and return home in safety." He turned to look at each of them "Master Ladrus. Mistress Yana." With that he turned and walked back to the open door to the Sick Bay, the ships surgeon issuing a glare with more venom than a cockratice from every inch of his bespecktackled three and a half foot body. 

"Take care, you two." Karima said less formally. "Try not to get any papercuts in that library." She turned to Yana. "And don't let this old bat make you sleep anywhere you don't want to." She winked, turned to smile at Ladrus, and moved on to oversee the sailors offloading the ship's cargo.  

"Let's get to the carriage." Ladrus prompted, and the two began to walk towards the gangplank 

Yana thought for a moment, following Ladrus, then said, "Should I start calling you Master Ladrus?" 

Ladrus rolled his eyes. "Fucking knife ears." Yana looked at him, utterly baffled, but decided the comment was best left alone. 

Yana's first impressions of Tarlock turned sour almost instantly, as a bucket of water was thrown into her face the literal second her foot landed on the quay rather than the gangplank. Her right hand shot to the dagger she kept on her hip, and it was only Ladrus' voice behind her that kept her from taking it out and preparing to swing.

"Oh, f- bugger," he choked out, obviously very nearly letting out a much more severe curse word, but hastily replacing it. "I forgot to warn you about this part, Yana. I'm sorry but this has to happen. Just do what they say, they'll give you a towel when this is over."

"Peace child." Yana wiped the water from her eyes and saw that a middle aged woman, dressed in a ragged brown robe and holding a dripping tin bucket, was motioning for her to step towards a dais, on which stood a very old looking dwarf, with slightly more ornate rags than the woman. Yana looked back up the gangplank and saw the apologetic expression on Ladrus's face.

"It's a religious thing. They throw water on new arrivals and say a few prayers. Just keep quiet, go with the cleric and this will all be over soon." Yana turned back to the woman, and caught only a breif glimpse of the sour look she had been giving to Ladrus, presumably for the oversimplification of her faith. Yana allowed herself to be guided to the dais, and took comfort in the sound of fresh buckets of water being splashed into the faces of first Ladrus, then everyone else who was following him on the gangplank, as the pair of them had been the first to disembark. When she arrived before the elderly priest, Yana was soon joined by Ladrus and the other passengers, who wordlessly arranged themselves in a line of six individuals, standing abreast at the front of the small dais.

"Brothers and sisters," he shouted to nobody in particular. "A moment for this morning's Deliverance!" Yana noted that while there were people milling about on the quay, going about various tasks like loading or unloading ships or shopping at the small harborside fish market, but nobody was gathered specifically for whatever this was. When the preist made his announcement, all commotion stopped and every passerby, including a pack of children that had been running about the market and being a general nuissance, stopped what they were doing and turned to watch the dais with uniform expressions of quiet reverance. Yana felt her face flush from the sudden, undivided attention of what looked to be a few hundred strangers, and breifly considered asking to be doused with more water.

The priest waited for several moments before continuing, though Yana couldn't decide if he was waiting for the last of the noise to die down, if his age required him to gather his energy to shout again, or if this was simply dramatic effect.

"Six souls have been delivered unto us, safely, and without pursuit. He has delivered them, as he has delivered us all-"

"As he has delivered us all," the improvised crowd chanted in unison, causing Yana to jump slightly, and the young girl in line to let out a surprised squeak. The priest continued.

"Brothers, sisters," he said, this time addressing the six new arrivals. "Our Savior and his servants have brought you safely to our shores, where the Empire cannot reach you. Our Savior does not ask for your worship, or even your thanks, but we," he gestured grandly with both hands to the crowd, who were still watching silently, "have all been where you stand now, and we have all felt the sting of Imperial subjugation. We ask only that you do not disrespect the Old Man while ashore on Tarlock, as it is only by his protection-" Ladrus scoffed, earning another glare from the woman in the robe. "-that we may continue our prosperous way of life, without the interference of outside forces." He began to recite what sounded like prayer in Dwarvish, and Yana took the opportunity to look around at the crowd again.

Before the priest had made his calls for silence, this had been an ordinary harbor, busy with passing sailors, fishmongers, travellers and the ordinary rabble one would expect on a busy island port. They all still gave the ceremony their complete attention, and were currently, down to a man, holding their faces slightly towards the sky with their eyes closed. They held their arms fully extended and lifted slightly away from themselves, Yana silently scolded herself for not seeing the movement, with their hands turned to show their palms to the front. She assumed they could understand what the priest was saying, even the children, who had, surprisingly, shown the same kind of discipline in this matter as their elders. The other passengers did not seem to be in agreement on how to handle this attention. The two dwarves, obviously able to understand the priest, mimiced the pose that the crowd had taken, wanting  to show some respect for the surrogate homeland of the dwarfs. The man wrapped in colorful scarves, though Yana idly realized she had no real way of knowing whether this was a man or woman, bowed their head in respect, but did not make any other over gestures. The girl with the bruises seemed to be growing in agitation, looking around the crowd with a fearful look on her face, as if she was eager to be indoors, out of sight. Ladrus, of course, may as well have been waiting for an order in a restaurant for how much reverance he showed, swaying from foot to foot with both hands in his pockets, stopping just short of tapping his foot. Yana thought she could hear him humming.

The priest paused in his prayer, evidently finished with the bit in dwarvish, and took the time now to allow every one to adjust the amount of attention they needed to pay.

"May fair winds and calm seas follow you, always," he said in common, and with that, the ceremony seemed to be over. The gathered crowd did not immediately move to return to what they were doing before the inturruption, and it took Yana a moment to realize why. The priest was being led away by some younger acolytes, but the younger woman, well, younger than the priest, Yana was sure, though she was still clearly in her forties or fifties with that graying black hair, was still walking purposefully throughout the crowd, and Yana realized she was collecting alms.

"Honestly," Ladrus said from her right, "they do so little at every deliverance, I don't know why they even bother. There are usually more passengers too, but with just six, it feels like they're just going through the motions."

"The Old Man is their god?" Yana asked, keeping her eyes on the woman. She didn't seem threatening, and most of the people she passed spoke with her amiably for a moment before she moved on, but she moved with a lithe grace, like a docile forest cat. 

"Yes and no," Ladrus said. "He's the supernatural entity that first guided the dwarves to this island, and most of them think he's still guiding refugees fleeing Ikar, but it isn't really clear whether or not he's a god. Seems equally likely that he's some kind of sea elemental or ocean nymph. Don't say so in front of the acolytes, though. That kind of talk falls under 'disrespect'." Yana tore her gaze away from the woman to regard Ladrus.

"Are they dangerous?" she asked lowering her voice, in a manner that she thought was covert, though she had no frame of referance. "Or, like, do they just not like you?"

"Not dangerous, not in my experience, anyway," Ladrus said. "And no religious institution likes particularly me. I've lived too long and met too many powerful people. But I have a better relationship with The Way of The Sea than I do with most. Wouldn't you say, Nessa?" The woman had made her way to the new arrivals with her basket of donations, and pointedly did not present it to Ladrus.

"Can't speak for anyone else," she said, "but I don't really care for you, no."

"Which," Ladrus said with a raised finger and a churlish grin, "is far closer to a declaration of friendship than I would get from any other worshipper. How have you been, love? Any news from the Temple?" Yana saw that the woman's, Nessa's, basket was full of several different kinds of currency. Solid lumps of precious metals, ornate coins, uncut gemstones, she even noted some small pieces of pink stones that looked like the coral Ladrus had shown her in Bone Bay.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," replied the willowy woman, "always another mouth to feed, alms always seeming to disappear from the coffers as soon as I put them down there."

"Do you think it's being stolen?" Yana blurted out before she could stop herself. Nessa turned to regard her.

"No," she said slowly, clearly trying not to sound condescending. "I just mean that we always spend it very fast." She smiled, "Why, looking to catch some thieves?" Yana felt her face growing red, but instead of looking away like she normally did, she straightened her back and looked the older woman in the eye. 

"If there were any, then yes," Yana said, pumping as much confidence into her words as she could muster. "But I'm glad there aren't. Stealing from the clergy, any clergy, isn't right, and I would feel obligated to help in finding anyone who was doing so." She held out her hand. "My name is Yana. Yana Hemsbrook."

Nessa looked from her Yana's face to her hand, and back, before slowly taking her hand. "Right you are, child," she said,shaking Yana's hand and smiling her motherly smile. "Nessa of Avro. Forgive me, but I must ask, what on Gadria is somebody with those kinds of morals doing hanging about with this one?"

"That's hardly fair," said Ladrus, to whom she was referring. "She is my apprentice, a member of the Vo Merkyn."

"Ah!" Nessa swooned, looking at Yana with renewed scrutiny, causing a fresh wave of blood to rush into Yana's face. "It's been too long since I'd met anyone from your tribe. Far too long." She squeezed Yana's hand without breaking eye contact before letting go, freeing her hands to then squeeze Yana's shoulders as she stared closer still into her eyes.

"Some of the best people I'd ever known came from that tribe. It's a shame we can't bring the lot of you out here. There must be an unoccupied island out there somewhere. Are the Acredians harrassing your kin out there?"

The Vo Merkyn were currently, as far as Yana was aware anyway, located immediately north of the Great Swamp. According to her old history lessons, the tribe had once been nomadic, but at around the time that the Acredian Empire became the foremost power on the supercontinent of Ikar, the Vo Merkyn of elders of old had decided that it would not be wise to openly resist the Cockratice Legions of the Acredian Army, which had been covertly following them at the time. A plot was dispatched to claim that the land to the north of the Great Swamp was actually a long lost Vo Merkyn holy land, settle there, then submit to the Legions and join the Empire from a place where any surprise visits from Imperial auditors or tax collectors would be impossible, and any planned visits would leave any Acredian detatchments completely at the Vo Merkyn's mercy. 

"No more then they ever have," Yana said, finally deciding on an answer just vague enough that she wouldn't have to give out too many details about her home. "The terrain usually keeps them out, and when they come anyway, they have to rely on us to be able to get around safely." Nessa nodded knowingly, and Yana guessed that this woman must've travelled to her home at some point. 

"Of course. You lot have always fared better than most. I hope you realize just how lucky you are that your forebears came up with such a brilliant plan. You're life could have been so very different otherwise." 

So she does know about us then, Yana thought, and relaxed, before immediately thinking that she was just being paranoid. After all, this island was entirely populated by refugees from the Acredian Empire. Even if there were people here who would seek to bring harm to others, as Yana suspected pirates would, it was another matter entirely to think that anyone here would be in any hurry to return to the Continent to bring harm to her family. 

"That is precisely why we're here," Ladrus spoke up. "I need to find some information that I believe to be somewhere in the Governor's Library, and she needs to take on the Burden." Nessa looked back to Ladrus with a cocked eyebrow. "And you're to be the one to give it to her, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Ladrus said haughtily. "And who better? I know more history than anyone currently living. As well as most who are not."

"Oh I know," said Nessa dryly. "I just can't imagine someone agreeing to spend that much time with you." She looked back at the receding crowd and the elderly priest, waiting with his attendants and other clerics who had also been collecting alms. "I need to get going. Feel free to stop by the Temple one of these days, but kindly leave your theological debates at the home when you do. I will chase you off with a broom if you get Brother Farnum worked up again. Keep to the Codes, and blessings of the sea on you both." She gave each of them another smile before turning back and walking towards her fellow clerics.

"They don't even worship their own god." Ladrus said wistfully, looking after the woman. He shook his head and turned back to Yana. "The Way of the Sea is probably the most honest religious organization you'll ever find, but that's mainly because most of their gospel is based on historical events that didn't happen very long ago. Only a few generations as far as some of the longer lived species go."

"Is worship mandatory for everyone?" Yana asked. "Not worship. I mean... you know what I mean."

"No," Ladrus said, "adherance to their principles are not mandatory, nor is following the Codes. But most people do anyway, to one extent or another. Most of the Codes of Kytar, that's their full title, were just added as general guidlines to avoid being attacked by this region's high concentration of aggressive fauna."

"To protect against sea monsters," Yana clarified. "That's the main point of this religion?"

"Not the main point, no. More like, they teach you to protect against sea monsters by dressing it up as dogma, and the sea monsters, both aggressive and docile, benefit from a lack of intervention from the peopled races. For example, they teach that you should not light a torch on the deck of a ship at night, because it offends the Old Man. In reality, torchlight and the smell of burning sulphur will attract harpies or Kytaran Giant Crabs, depending on where you are. The truth is that it is the monsters that are offended, but it is both the monsters and the people that suffer. The Way teaches that the Old Man wants the most desirable outcome for us all, and so the monsters are best left unprovoked."

"Interesting," Yana said, remembering wave of shouts from sailors on the Requiem when she'd brought a lit candle onto the deck on the second night of their journey. "Why do they feel the need to clarify that they don't worship their god?" 

Ladrus shrugged, "They said he told Morwr Strongarm, his prophet, that he doesn't want to be worshipped. That's part of what leads me to think he may actually be an ocean spirit, but that's assuming he's real in the first place. Which I'm not sure if I believe." Yana felt that was a convenient opening for another of her greivences with the old gnome, and decided to sieze the opportunity for better or for worse.

"If it happened within a few generations ago, that must mean there is plenty of surviving evidence for it," she said gently, well aware that she might be about to start another arguement.

"Correct," Ladrus said, seeming to be unaware of what she was doing. "Morwr Strongarm, true to dwarven stereotype, spent most of his life working nonstop for the welfare of the people living here, and he kept very meticulous notes on essentially everything that'd ever happened to him. Including his meetings with the Old Man." 

"Have you seen the notes?" Yana asked. Do you think they're real?" Ladrus looked at her curiously. 

"Yes I have, and yes I do." he said dryly, turning to look at her. "Why?"

Yana had not expected that response, and her sudden realization that Ladrus did know what she was talking about, seeing through one of her verbal sneak attacks for the second time today, promptly shook the confidence from her mind, and she found herself feeling deflated. She turned her eyes away as she felt the floodgates break, and the blood they were holding back rushed into the skin of her face.

"I don't know," she said meekly after a few moments of silence. "Because you always talk like you hate religious people."

"Speak." Ladrus corrected, " I always speak like I hate religious people. Which I don't." Ladrus paused, allowing his own words to pass through his mind. "Alright, I do speak like that, but I do not hate religious people."

"Then why do you speak like that?" asked Yana, feeling like she was trying to drag a story out of a small child, rather than a centuries old man. Ladrus took a moment to look around the qauy, as if he was worried that he would be overheard. 

"Because I hate worship" Ladrus said, as if that explained everything. "I've seen what faith can do it it gets too powerful, either literally, or in the social or political powers it grants to those who control it. Faith can be just as menacing a weapon as any sword, spear or axe, but nobody else seems to recognize the threat that piety poses to the unpious. Do you know what kinds of things the Acredian Empire does in the name of the Great Ashen God?" He looked at her expectantly. Yana sighed.

"No I do not," she said patiently. Her teacher did not ask rhetorical questions.

"Well you will. In detail. Then perhaps you will see things from my perspective."

"Well whatever it is the Acredians do," Yana lightly snapped back, regaining some of her courage, "it doesn't give you the right to go around being rude to people like Nessa. Or that kid back in Bone Bay." That did it, she thought to herself. She needed only to see the look of poorly hidden embarrasement and shame that sprouted from his face like mushrooms after a monsoon, to know that she had won that fight.

While staying in Bone Bay waiting for the Requiem, Ladrus had had a prolonged altercation with a young street urchin, after the boy had advised Ladrus to allow the Great Ashen God into his heart, as many of the more naive Acredians do. The fact that Ladrus showed a memorable reaction at all while they were in Acredian lands was dangerous enough on it's own, but it didn't help that the arguement had ended with Ladrus suggesting what he thought the Great Ashen God and the Patriarch of Acredia would get into if they'd had a room to themselves and a bottle of wine. Bone Bay was a border town on the southern edge of Acredian territory, so thanks to a lack of Acredian soldiers, Ladrus had not signed his own death warrant, but it would not have been wise to remain in the bay for any longer than they had.

Ladrus threw up his hands. "You've got me there," he said grudgingly, "But I do not hate religion or religious people outright. Not just for that anyway. Now, as much as I've been enjoying these little burst of confidence in you, truely I have, it wouldn't be wise of us to keep Governor Drunning waiting any longer than we already have. You'll need to hail one of these carriages, they would never see me holding my hand up."

Far on the other side of Tarlock, there lies a remote whaling village called Caligam, kept separate from the more metropolitan city of Tarlock by the dense Kokoro Forrest. Far from the vigilant eyes of the Tarlock City Guard, and lacking one of it's own, Caligam finds itself quite susceptible to all levels of crime, from petty to organized. 

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