Nature's Journeymen

 

The episode opens with a shot of the village which acts as a harbor for Arjani City. It is connected to the main city by a long uphill road, and the scenery and costuming make clear that we are in a Classical era – tabards, chariots and carts, iron weapons. The city is made of white marble and great golden domes, but everything has a slightly dusty air about it – the people are happy but somewhat listless, and the overwhelming attitude is one of people going about an old and well-established routine.

 

The sound of a horn breaks through the opening montage of citizens, and a child runs up to the plaza. “A ship!” He cries, “Flying a foreign flag!” The camera swings once more to the harbor, where a ship can indeed be seen. Seagulls wheel around its oddly red sails, and the sun setting in the west illuminates the ship with its light.

 

Jump-cut to Aje, sitting in the Dome of the Rock, backed with the music we now associate with the Arjani golden age. He is meditating next to the rock which had imprisoned him – the rock is covered with years and years of dust, as is the rest of this sanctuary. When he opens his eyes, the cries of the seagulls begin to overpower the music, and the camera from rock to dome and into the bright blue sky.

 

*OPENING CREDITS ROLL*

 

The marketplace is in turmoil as the copper-skinned traders lay out their wares and display them to passersby. Words like “tobacco,” “cocoa,” “silk” and “vermillion” echo along the lips of the tradesmen and women who have crowded about, and a knot of children are being entertained by a pair of minstrels, telling tales of Great Father Bear and Weeping Eagle. Nimah and Nashgi are at the very front of the tradespeople, exclaiming over the possibilities of the new colors to make dye, and the herbs which could be used to treat the Whooping Cough.

 

Enthused, one of the traders takes up a “pomegranate” and squeezes the juice into a bowl of water, then muddles some of the native Arjani herbs within. He dunks a piece of cloth within and brings it out, more dazzling red than even the sails of their ship. As the crowd proclaims its awe, Aje snatches the cloth from the trader.

 

“It is simply red. Nothing more. Do you find this an amazing trick, sisters, to make a red slightly redder than before?”

 

“It’s completely different,” protests Nashgi, but Aje has already turned his back to face the minstrels.

 

“And you! This tale is wrong – there were no eagle’s tears to drown the lost city. It was the grief of our baby sister which sunk proud Atlantis!”

 

Behind him, the now-adolescent Nimah makes a face of furious resentment – “I am not a baby! You take that back!”

 

Again, however, Aje ignores the tumult, eyeing the citizens who have made room for their gods. “Nothing here is greater than what we have already known as the Arjani. These men are sailors, and nothing more.” For a moment, it looks as if he is prepared to stride toward their ship, but he seems to think better of it. He turns back to the initial trader with a grim look.

 

“You may ply your trade in this marketplace alone. Think to travel no further through the lands of the Arjani until our councilors have seen what you have wrought, and agree with me – that it is nothing the Arjani do not already possess, and that perfection needs no complement.” With that, he drops the vermillion handkerchief in the dust of the marketplace, glaring at a child who seems poised to pick it up, and strides toward the temple.

 

“Am I not to tell the tale of the Great Bear, then?”

 

“There is no bear in Arjani but our older brother,” says Nimah.

 

Game note: fanmail to Tina for this one.

 

Game Note: Ivan asks for a Character scene, in his temple, to set up the fall of the invaders.

 

Aje is sitting on a throne in his temple, eyeing three elder citizens: a high priest, a scholarly doctor, and the most talented of the tapestry weavers in Arjani City.

 

“You are the shining jewels in the crown that is Arjani culture – the most learned, wise, and valued members of the greatest civilization the world has ever known. So tell me, oh wise ones: what can we do about these wretched invaders, and how may we ensure that their lies spread no further?”

 

The three shift uncomfortably where they stand before the priest speaks up. “Lord Aje, there is nothing to be done. These are no invaders, no minions of war. They bring nothing that we do not already know, as you have stated. Let them ply their trade. The novelty shall wear away, and all shall return to normal.”

 

The doctor replies, “Perhaps … but observing them is key. We should wait to see what comes of their presence in our fair land, see what they may bring to our lands and what we may send to theirs.”

 

“Do you say we would learn from these copper-skinned barbarians?” Camera pans to show the arms of Aje’s throne beginning to turn to stone under his hands.

 

“No, my lord. Never that. Only that we must wait and see, rather than acting precipitously and risking another War.”

 

“I agree,” says the weaver, “change itself is no foe to the Arjani. We should see what comes of it, where it may be embraced, where it must be turned away. I do not say they will have any value …” But it’s clear by the performance that the tapestry artist does have plans to make use of the new techniques and methods offered by the merchants.

 

Aje’s eyes narrow, then he smiles. “I thank you for your pains, gentle souls. Return to your flocks and patients and temples … save you, my friend. I would speak further of the art you bring to our city.”

 

Game Note: Ivan calls a conflict. He wants Aje to trick the Weaver into accusing the newcomers of blasphemy through his artworks. The stakes are: a success means Aje plants the seed surreptitiously in the artist’s mind, a failure means the artist sees the dangerous ploy being concocted by a suddenly dangerous god. Aje fails rather miserably.

 

“I agree with you,” purrs Aje, “that we must see what comes of these new elements. You alone, my friend, master artist and weaver – you can see the soul which lies beneath the face’s loom. Take to the streets, then, and listen. Listen well to their tales and songs. Get to know them. But be vigilant, my friend. Be ever wary and watchful, for snares lie in every corner when the land is shifting beneath your feet. Do you understand?”

 

“Perfectly,” croaks the weaver, and scurries out to report the dangerous play to his own Goddess of textiles.

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK

 

Game Note: Val asks for a Plot scene, in the weaver’s workshop, to focus on the other gods’ and citizens’ reactions to the newcomers.

 

The camera comes into a large workshop, hung all around with tapestries in various stages of completion. They all represent some great, past moment in Arjani history – there is nothing forward-thinking in this shop. But in the center, beneath a shaft of light, a large vat of the new vermillion dye is being worked by a knot of fresh-faced young apprentices. Nashgi and Nimah sit at the edge of the vat, sharing a bowl of chocolate.

 

Game Note: Fanmail given for the ladies sharing chocolate in a trying time.

 

“He’s overreacting. Nothing has changed here in decades! Generations have passed without a single new idea, a single breath of air.”

 

“He has turned the world into a remembrance,” agrees Nashgi. “You heard that he all but threatened the Weaver? One of my people. Threatened! In the temple that once imprisoned him.”

 

“Would he were still in the stone,” says Nimah. “But he spent too much time there as it is. And when was he last out of his temple willingly? He sits there day after day …”

 

“For generations.”

 

“Exactly. Just like Father did.” Nimah cocks her head. “You don’t think he’s threatened any of mine? Of Scarzam’s?”

 

Nashgi shakes her head doubtfully. “He may have done,” she sighs. “But he still depends on the two of you.”

 

Nimah raises an eyebrow, then calls the Doctor to appear before here. “Doctor,” she says with the preemptoriness of a child, “has my brother Aje spoken with you?”

 

The Doctor, clearly uncomfortable, nods. “I did speak with the Lord Aje at his request, in his temple. But we calmed him, the high priest of Lord Scarzam and I together. He merely wants the newcomers to be watched.”

 

“And thrown to the wolves,” nods Nimah. “Thank you.”

 

At that moment the Weaver bursts in the front door, excited and filled with energy. “You there! Lads, double that dye! Take the old work off the looms! You must hear what they’ve told me! We can make vistas the likes of which we’ve never seen, never dreamed! All of their cycles are air and water, fresh fields and mountains! No more faces – no more poses. We will create a tapestry for them to take home which will be like nothing accomplished in the past!”

 

Nashgi rises. “Weaver – the old works are commissioned and paid for.”

 

“Quiet!” Hisses Nimah, but Nashgi continues.

 

“They have been commissioned by none other than my brother,” she says, “in celebration of the city’s five hundred years of existence. Do you mean to stop this work to take on the new?”

 

“Why, no, my Lady Nashgi! But … your brother is our sole paying patron these days. The old styles bring in no revenue, and those lads are the sole apprentices in the city for weavers. By breathing fresh life into our work, we shall increase both revenue and excitement – we will have new converts to your teachings, new interest in textiles throughout the land.”

 

A smile comes across Nashgi's face. “Very well …”

 

“But wait,” calls an older weaver, “we cannot simply abandon the current projects!”

 

“Why,” asks Nimah, “do we truly need another image of a rock?”

 

Game note: Fanmail.

 

Game Note: Val calls a Conflict. Stakes: If she succeeds, the workshop will be able to integrate and manage both projects at once, invigorating the old work while still creating the new. If she fails, the weavers will fracture into two camps, and neither project will suceed. She succeeds!

 

“Not of a rock,” she says slowly, dipping a finger in the vermillion dye, “but it occurs to me that this color is perfect for the wall of fire around the Garden …”

 

Game Note: Tina calls for a character scene, in a coffeehouse, with all the Gods present. She wants to focus on Scarzam, the God of Fire, who has yet to appear: which side will sway him?

 

The camera is on a cozy coffeehouse, clearly several months after the merchants arrived. The walls are painted the vermillion color, people are drinking coffee and chocolate, and a minstrel is onstage singing in the new “spoken song” format being made popular.

 

Game note: “Great. They’ve invented Beatniks in the Classical Era.”

 

Aje comes in, and the film subtly changes. Those few old pieces in the coffeehouse are highlit, somehow brighter in his presence – the old crockery, the tables, the vase of forget-me-nots placed above the doorway.

 

“Brother, sisters,” he nods as he sits. “Wine, please.”

 

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” says the proprietor, “we only serve coffee and chocolate in this house.”

 

“Coffee, then,” says Aje with a sneer, and waving his hand over the mug, changes it to wine. “I see the rest of you are as corrupted by this poison as your followers.”

 

“Poison?” Nimah challenges him. “Poison?”

 

“They’ve grown sick, and you know it. This coffee destroys their nerves. The chocolate sickens them and fouls the scent of their leavings.”

 

“Your wine destroys their livers,” she counters, “and their lives besides, which you can say of none of the new luxuries.”

 

Aje snorts, though his hand moves away from the mug of wine. “And you, sister?” He turns to Nashgi. “These new silks are beautiful. So long as one does not enter the rain, or snag it on a nail, or perform any labor of any kind in them. They have none of the strength of our woolens and cottons.”

 

“Too true,” smiles Nashgi, “which means more work for the clothiers and tailors. My people are now able to send their children to the universities, to spread their learning, to become a new class of men and women.”

 

Frustrated, Aje turns to Scarzam. “Well then, brother, at least you will agree with me. The city is still lit by fire, is it not? There is nothing greater to warm their hands and light their path than the old ways we remember.”

 

“Perhaps,” says Scarzam slowly, “but then, there have been old ways we would sooner all forget.”

 

The camera focusses on the forget-me-nots on the table, and Aje’s fist clenches. “What do you mean, my brother?”

 

”I mean that we made changes as well. Great changes. After the War.”

 

Aje stands and knocks the table to the ground, hair whipped by invisible winds and eyes blazing. “We swore an oath!” he shouts, “an oath! Words which cannot be changed, words which agreed that we would speak no more of the War!”

 

“All this silence has killed all songs,” shouts Scarzam in return, “and it is time we spoke, and saw, of what you have done while trying to replace our father!”

 

“I have given them the Garden! This is as good as it gets, don’t any of you understand? I have seen the future – I know what comes! It is never again so golden and shining, never again so bright and beautiful! This is as good as the humans will ever understand!”

 

“This is as good as You will ever understand,” cries Scarzam, and with a wave of his hand the coffeehouse vanishes to be replaced by a rude hut of skins and sticks. He tears the skins away to reveal the humans in the Stone Age – huddled around a rude fire, wearing nothing but skins, coughing and trembling with ague and fever at the youngest of ages.

 

“Do you remember these?” Scarzam strides among them, pointing. “This was my golden age, Aje! They worshipped me here. They needed me here. They didn’t know your culture, her medicine, or her textiles! I was God to these, Aje, I was light and safety and security and ALL. And don’t think for a moment that I could not have kept them right here, naked and trembling and infants! I could have burned down every temple that was built, lit my way through every fever, burned away everything that was not a torch or a hovel.

 

“But I would not leave them as worms, Aje. It was never my decision. It was theirs.”

 

“You don’t know,” shouts Aje. “You have never known. It was I who had us cast from the Garden. It was I who was responsible, and I will make that up to them!”

 

“It was us, Aje! It was all of us! I parted the curtain of fire, not you! Nimah walked through first, not you! And Nashgi's attempts to return warned Father of what had happened. The blame is not your own, and we will no longer fit on your shoulders!”

 

Game Note: Multiple stakes conflict.

Aje: Win: Port away from here. Lose: Forced to stay and listen to more lectures.

Scarzam: Win: Aje must admit he is wrong. Lose: Aje can keep silent, whatever he believes.

Nashgi: Win: Aje will still speak to me. Lose: Aje feels I have betrayed him with my silence.

Nimah: Win: Aje will admit that I am growing up. Lose: Aje will still see me as a child.

 

Result: We all won!

 

Aje vanishes, leaving the three others standing around the rude fire and chattering neanderthals …

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK

 

The camera is facing Aje, who is standing with his hands at his side across a brazier. “You … have sacrificed much more than ever I knew, Brother. I was blinded by what I thought I owed to you, and to all. It all changes, and perhaps – perhaps, it is for the best that we move on. From beast to man to whatever comes next …”

 

“You are my family,” he continues, surrounded by the beautiful weavings of Nashgi's temple, “and I will never again set one against the others. Let the world outside do what it may, I will stand by you and for you in every way I can. But I will stand …”

 

“As a brother,” he continues, and he is seated across from Nimah, who is now portrayed as a young adult rather than the teenager we have seen before now. “I have been wrong. You are no longer a child, but I bore you in my arms through the first ages of the world. And it is hard, Nimah. Above all else, your welfare has been ever in my mind. But I have no more power to make decisions for you. You are not my child. You are no child at all. But your brother I will ever remain.”

 

Game Note: Adam calls for a plot scene: how we impact the other culture, as they’ve impacted us. Scene is set on the docks as the ship prepares to sail.

 

We more or less went straight into conflict here, in terms of what we wanted.

 

Aje: Win: The history and legends of the Arjani transfer. Lose: They radicalize and terrify.

Scarzam: Win: His worship transfers as a guardian. Lose: It transfers as a demon.

Nashgi: Win: The crafters stay behind to work. Lose: They stow away against her orders.

Nimah: Win: A disease teaches both cultures new medicines. Lose: A plague destroys everything.

 

Aaaand … we all lose.

 

The camera comes in on the ship sailing into a strange harbor. Bodies hang from the masts and along the decks, with a sole man strapped to the wheel. As the copper-skinned natives cut him down, he begins to rave: “Scarzam – Nimah the Plaguebearer! Nimah, goddess of death and flies! Aje, Aje sent us … he sent us to die on the waters, to die of hatred. Nashgi, gentle Nashgi, she alone warned them – warned them not to come. They bore the plague, the plague! Scarzam has saved me … I sacrificed them, yes, burned their hands and eyes for the black god of the fire …”

 

COMMERCIAL BREAK

 

Game Note: Our lovely Audience Member calls for a Character Scene to focus on the gods and their foreign counterparts in the sacred groves of the foreign land.

 

The camera is on a beautiful grove, surrounded by a henge of stone pillars. A gigantic bear stands to one side of a fountain, with an eagle to his left and a tall, statuesque woman to his right. The woman’s face is furious as Nature’s Journeymen step out of the fountain.

 

“You!” She cries, stepping tward Nimah with balled fists. “You lured our people into plague and corruption! You sent them to die, and spread this foulness across our land! I am the true spririt of health – better suited to the title than you! Oh, faithless wretch, I will eat your very heart!”

 

The bear places both paws on her shoulders. “Sister. Justice will be done according to the law and custom of our people.” He turns to Aje. “You are spoken of as the leader of these … people. Your name is spoken now in hushed whispers as the finger of the grave, pointing across the sea. Your destroying devil of a brother will stand to fight our own Destroyer, but the coming of the plague is your own responsibility and your own doing. This child,” he motions to Nimah, “is too young to bear such a punishment, and so, by the laws of our people, you will stand in her place. But gentle Nashgi – the clarion, the sweet and silent one – she alone shall be made welcome in our homeland, worshipped as warning and weaver alike.”

 

Aje steps forward, hands folded. “I was right, I think, to mistrust this venture from the start. We are caught in the waves of change, and we cannot stand against the evil this change has unfolded. But I am no father, nor do I lead these my brothers and sisters.” He stepped aside, indicating Nimah. Her expression turned from sullen to that of dawning comprehension – and some little trace of concern.

 

“My sister is no child. She sent the plague, and she will stand to answer for it. We are changed, and older; and we will stand for no crimes but our own.”

 

“Just and wise,” snarls Health. “So tell me, little one, how will you repay us for the evil you have wrought?”

 

Game Note: Conflict.

 

Nimah: Win: I ask for help, realizing I’m over my head. Lose: I’m a sullen teenager who pays for her attitue.

Aje: Win: I’m seen as changed, and wiser. Lose: I’m seen as withdrawing and useless.

Nashgi: Win: The new Pantheon adopts me under my true name. Lose: The new Pantheon changes my name.

Scarzam: Win: I beat the Detsroyer honorably. Lose: I beat him by going berzerk.

 

Nimah wins, everyone else loses …

 

Nimah turns to Aje. “I didn’t … you know this isn’t what I meant, Aje. You know I meant to help, to teach them. You know what I meant to do.”

 

He looks down at her sadly. “And you know what I wanted to do. But you’re grown now, Nimah. You don’t want me fighting your battles.”

 

However, in his head, the voice of Bear is ringing. “You will not stand for her actions?”

 

“I will,” he responds, also telepathically. “But she cannot know I have done so. I have little right to ask any favors of you, but you know my heart. You know that I will make things right. Simply give me a little longer with her, as a member of my family.”

 

Suddenly, the speech is interrupted by the screaming roar of an explosion. In the distance, the grove begins to burn – flames licking at the trees and grass, and Scarzam marching forth, black of skin and hair in flames.

 

“You have no more Destroyer, Great Bear. Now. Will you risk more? Or do we return home?”

 

“Go,” breathes the bear, as the rest of the foreign gods run to fight the blaze, “go and never think to return – until you are summoned,” he says, looking to where Aje and Nimah stand side-by-side.

 

CREDITS ROLL.

 

Capper scene: Aje is in his temple, the inner sanctum, sitting before the rock in which he was once imprisoned. It looks as if he is meditating at first, but as the camera spirals around, we see that he has painted the faces of his family on the stone than once imprisoned him – painted those faces in the vermillion paint which now decorates every dome and tower in the city.

 

NEXT WEEK ON NATURE’S JOURNEYMEN:

 

Aje in an expensive modern suit, standing in a courtroom opposite a suspiciously bearlike man.