Chapter Six: New World Kult
1511-1522
Graxxar Temple inner chambers, 1513
Solid, flawless white stone sealed the entrance to the chamber, which had sat untouched for over a thousand years. No plant dared grow against it, no animal dared approach. Silence had reigned inside the chamber for so long, that when the first thud resounded through it, the air itself trembled. One, and then another, and another thud came from the door until a steady rhythm of impacts shook the structure.
Then, suddenly, change. The surface of the door cracked, split and the metal of a pickaxe head breached the surface. From behind it came shouts, followed by hoots and whoops. The thudding redoubled, and soon the door was crumbling from dozens of pickaxes breaching it. As the last of the stone hit the floor, cautious footsteps entered the room. Angry orders barked from beyond the threshold, and the group began to speed up.
A team of Dwarves spread out across the room, acting as living trap-detectors as they tested the floor and walls of the chamber. There hadn't been any such traps in this complex, but they had been encountered occasionally in other, smaller ruins. The Dwarves weren't collared, for there wasn't really anywhere to run. The island would soon be swarming with Gnolls.
The chamber itself was a massive ring, with stepped terraces around the edge all facing a large circular open space in the centre. Despite the roof of the chamber being opened to the sky, there was no sign of the white stone floor or gold etchings that covered the pillars around it being weather-worn at all.
Once the chamber was secure, the Gnollish slavedrivers entered and began corralling up their charges. There were more doors to breach, and more rooms to search. This chamber was to be left for the leadership.
"It's so pure!" Dhy cackled as she bounded inside, her long priestly robes trailing behind her, and stood at the edge of the central circle. "Hydyn will be pleased. Let's start defiling it now."
Therkez was more interesting in the gold that had been sunken into the walls and pillars. He ran claws across the stone, sending a screech through the room that stiffened everyone's fur, and pulled away without a flake of gold having been torn off.
"We should work out how to strip out the treasure first," he said. The room by itself was more likely valuable than several treasure ships, and probably hundreds of times more than the stolen jewellery that adorned him.
"Not yet," Mykx said.
She strode past the both of them and stood in the centre of the chamber, peering up through the open ceiling at the cloudy sky. A few drops of rain fell, but splattered against a clear, intangible dome that hung above the roof a hundred feet up. Mykx took a knife from her belt and flung it at the ceiling. It passed straight through at the peak of its flight, then came back down and clattered against the top of the dome.
"Ah," Dhy said with a gasp, "the Elven gods think to guard this place."
"I know what you're thinking," Mykx said, pointing a second knife at Dhy, "but I'm not going to let you tear our whatever magic they left behind. I have a better idea, isn't that right?"
She was addressing the third priest that had joined her in the expedition. Rri hobbled forward on his staff, passed by Dhy who was giving him a sharp stare and clenching her claws, and approached Mykx. He was a young Gnoll, his body twisted by some infernal blessing that had only made him more vicious and cunning. His staff, just as gnarled as he was, was topped by a jagged blade that had torn out the heart of many a cocky challenger.
"Hmm," he said.
He tapped his staff twice against the polished stone under his feet, and a burst of green fire engulfed him for a moment. He patted down wherever his fur had caught alight and watched the embers of the fire ascend up and past the barrier, where they were snuffed out by the rain.
"What better way to desecrate this place than to make it the greatest temple to Xhazob in the world," he said. He pointed his staff at Dhy, who growled and backed off onto the terraces.
"We will bring our hoards here, rather than take this gold for our hoards," he said, pointing at Therkez. The gold-covered priest snorted and returned to evaluating the room's ornaments.
"And you," he said, turning to Mykx, "are going to win us the slaves that we will burn here."
"Those are my slaves first," Mykx said. She squared up against Rri, tall and straight compared to his short and crooked. "Xhazob will get his share only after I have taken for the fleet and the fields."
"He will not be waiting forever. The settlers are already building further inland. Your petty coastal raids are missing out on ever more blood with each yar." Rri said. He smacked his staff against the floor once, but before he could do it again Mykx grabbed it, digging her claws into the wood.
"Do not speak for the demons, or question my plans" she growled, "know your place. The Scourge Fleet is supreme on my seas. The Kult is only a conduit for demonic power."
"Is the power going to your head, Admiral?" Rri asked. His arm flexed, moving with more power than it ought to, and the staff tipped forward until the edge of the blade rested against her collar. "Didn't you say the demons of the ocean ought to be respected? Our advice is all that is keeping you from a watery grave."
She bared her teeth in a grin, and the pair of them stood there for a moment, their bodies and wills equally matched. The other two priests watched on, ready for a sudden upending in the hierarchy of the republic.
Mykx twisted her head, the blade scraping away fur and skin on her neck and undersnout until she was able to catch it in her teeth and yank it from its bindings. She spat blood and blade onto the floor and kicked Rri away from her. He stumbled back, but caught himself on his staff without much trouble.
"I'll take it into consideration, priest," she said. She raised her paws to the room around them. "Now, how big a pyre do you think will fit in there?"
Excerpts from the journal of Mykx, Chief Admiral of the Republic of Mykx
Very rarely do you find non-Gnolls who are willing to stand up to us from their cages. They almost always fall to their master's whip, even if they have a good point. Occasionally though, they show enough will that they earn some of our respect, and a higher position amongst the slaves. Szura was a merchant's wife taken when we raided Saamir's fleets before they could land, but despite her soft upbringing she has flourished under Xhazob's eye and clawed her way up to a position of treasurer amongst one of our smuggler crews. I have authorised the captain to use her as a proxy to trade some of the cash crops our slaves are producing with the Cannorians. I will not complain about a little more money.
Not least because expanding so many colonies at once is expensive work. Gnolls are not used to building, and whenever they make a mistake that throwing more slaves at can't fix, my treasury has to bail them out.
War remains the easiest task. The warriors live and die at my command, and would follow me to the depths of the ocean if I willed it. My rival captains can only flee, and dare not challenge me directly.
A different rising challenge is the Xhazobkult. As my population grows and more immigrants arrive fleeing the persecution of Viakkoc the infrastructure of the Kult grows with them. I have sent Therkez to represent my interests among the Kult, and he has informed me of several promising priests capable of wielding demonic power, who are now in the middle of sorting out a hierarchy amongst themselves. I ought to take more of an interest, lest they unite and form a bloc of their own.
With connections to the Cannorian smugglers, we have managed to begin securing a proper supply of Orcish slaves. For the most part they are sent to our plantations and mines, but I cannot help but divert a few for sacrificial purposes. They have so much meat on them, so much to offer up.
This is a regular event now that we have signed up to the Orc slave trade. Over time, our provinces will fill up with Orcs. We are more than capable of handling a few extra slaves, but the other partaking colonies might see some consequences from this.
Zheh has mapped out the channels leading to the west, and confirmed that there is nothing but ocean beyond. Securing the will be another high priority. If we can hold the entirety of the passageway from east to west, no trade will be able to pass us by without the extraction of a bloody toll.
Our colonists on Graxxar have found an impressive ancient structure untouched by nature, paw, or demon. They have returned with offerings of trinkets, and I immediately sold them on to smugglers hungry to feed the Cannorian thirst for such things. Word of this structure is spreading quickly, and the Kult is insisting that I fund a deeper exploration. My own curiosity is driving me to agree. Everything else we, not to mention the desperate Human and Elven explorers, have encountered has been a ruin, but this is something completely different. Perhaps it was left untouched as a gift for us, by whichever of our patrons struck down the Precusors.
The character of my islands is shifting as settlers pour in. Plantations are spreading across the islands, producing cash crops much desired by the Cannorians. It is amusing to see them traded by our Human proxies, then immediately plundered and put them up for sale again, but I foresee friction between the Scourge Fleet and the Colonialists over it. Whole towns are springing up filled with Gnolls who've never tasted the blood of an enemy on the battlefield. My pressgangs are working hard to bring them into an honest life. Leave the dull landlubber work for the slaves, our true calling is on the sea.
As the volume of traffic increases along the northern rim of the Ruined Sea, I have scoured the charts to locate safe havens for our privateers in between each raid. Each new raid sees more damage to our vessels and more injured and dead sailors as the enemy try to match our might. If the Humans have had the misfortune of settling those islands before us, then I'm sure they continue to work on them, just with a collar around their necks.
Such a fate has already befallen Saamir's foolish anti-slavery expedition. I gave specific orders that he be captured alive, and while he bit off his own tongue in an effort to die free, a little dose of hellfire from that wretched priest, Rri, cauterized the wound and ensured he would forever regret that act of defiance. The rest of his people, those who survived the sack of his meagre settlement, were put to work in the fields.
Our team of Dwarves was able to breach the inner sanctum of the structure, a vast chamber opened to the air and yet shielded from the rain by some magic. After a pleasant conversation with the most prominent members of the Kult, I decided that we had not offered Xhazob and his kin appropriate recompense for all the fertile hunting grounds they have provided for us. The structure will become the centrepiece of the Kult in Aelantir, a fearsome pyre forever burning at the very centre of the crater carved out by demonic wrath.
The Kult continues to expand outside of the temple as well, integrating the cults that have sprung up among the crews and the masters. My fellow captains have the same concerns that I do, and we are walking a careful balance to continue to assert our authority without raising the wrath of the common sailor drunk on blood and faith.
Strict and harsh discipline is the key. They need to fear their captains as they do the ocean or the demons. We will mould them into the perfect sailors, cooperative and professional while at sea, bloodthirsty and vicious when they set foot on the land. Our ships will be the safe haven from the excesses of the Kult.
At this point we are almost guaranteed 100% Naval Tradition at all times. Once Naval ideas start adding pips, our admirals are going to be monsters.
The newest arrivals tell of the growing power of Gnollakaz. Neither the Elves occupying the feline heartland, nor the band of religious zealots and perverts pushing westwards have been able to defeat them, and Gnollish hordes have spread as far south as the southern coast. Excellent work on their part, perhaps in future they can be the army to our fleet.
With work completed on Graxxar, the Kult has become an entrenched part of my nation. At the very least, their leadership are all in one place if I need to oppose them. It would be a shame to raze the temple though, as it is a marvel of Gnollish might. We have torn down the doors that relied on magic to be opened, desecrated Elven murals and inscriptions and filled the corridors with conquered treasures and the vile scriptures of our patrons.
The Xhazobkult is the fourth faction that we will have to balance. More on them later.
The fleet is also growing in strength, as we have finished rebuilding the dockyards on the islands that we conquered. Staffed with the slaves who once freely worked them, the reach of our ships grows ever further.
Deep inland to the north, the Elves have discovered a long-lost chamber that supposedly leads to other worlds. It is too far for any hope of conquest, but it does make me wonder. Can we sail between worlds as we sail on the ocean? Does Xhazob lurk in the shadows between the stars? I will not live to see it, but perhaps one day my descendants will shed blood beyond the borders of the world.
Finally, the code of laws is completed, for the time being. With so many new regulations, it was necessary to assign political officers on each vessel to ensure compliance from the captains. Keeping them well-paid enough to avoid bribery costs a tenth of the naval budget by itself, but having eyes on each vessel to keep an eye on both my rival captains and the growing power of the Kult is invaluable.
More colonists continue to arrive, drawn in by the promise of land, abundant slaves, and easy plunder. They bring with them wealth that they secreted away from the tyrants of the east, and an enthusiasm that keeps them going without too much required oversight. The islands will soon be firmly under Gnollish ownership.
One of the other captains is flouting my laws, plundering vessels under our protection rackets, hitting smugglers allied with us, and even stealing treasure from other members of the fleet. I will allow it in this case, as he is very effective and serves as an excellent reminder of just how vicious we can get if they try to directly oppose us.
It certainly hasn't interrupted our profits. As the Trollsbay settlers get comfortable, the volume of trade increases and our take along with it. Of course, that means the volume of pirate hunters also increases but the Scourge Fleet remains unmatched and more than capable of blasting them to splinters.
To ensure we stay unmatched into perpetuity, we need more docks, more shipyards, more harbours. The price of that endeavour will be great, but here are plenty of slaves and gold to be found to fund the effort.
The finishing touches to Graxxar Temple have been completed. A pyre, ever burning, shielded from the rain and elements by the Precursor's own magic while completing the final desecration of the structure. The Kult is eager to begin the ignition ceremony, after which a steady stream of fuel and sacrifices will see the demonic horde fed for all eternity. I will be participating, of course. To not show my face would be admitting I was afraid of the Kult.
Being able to sacrifice whenever we want also means that we no longer need to risk losing development when we run the edict to build a pyre.
Morning was not a pleasant experience. I awoke in a pile of bodies, some alive and some not, with my head pounding from a combination blood and rum hangover. It had been a night of revelry in front of the pyre, one that I would repeat again if I got the chance, but the comedown is always the worst part. The pyre was still burning when I woke up, though not as brightly as it had been at night, and I found Rri standing in front of it. Dozens of Gnolls were prostrated at his feet, their bodies warped and mutilated in the same way his was by the demonic power that had flowed through us that night. I could see the smug look on his face. He thinks he's won, but I am still the Chief Admiral, and I still have the Scourge Fleet at my back.
Getting the Kult in power gives us a few bonuses. Sadly, the missionary bonuses aren't very useful without Religious ideas because the Xhazobkult has a very hard time converting non-Gnolls (for obvious reasons) but at least the Religious Unity makes up for that.
Later, he offered to put additional priests on our vessels in order to infuse our cannons with the flames of the pits. I declined. If we ever truly need such a power, I will call upon Xhazob and Kzryl myself.
I'm not sure exactly how this gets activated, but I'm sure that events or the mission tree will help as we progress. As it says, it should only be used in dire circumstances considering how expensive in Demonic Power it is.
Instead, I ordered them to call upon the Invocation of Gold so that our privateers would be able to use the demonic sense of greed to discover which vessels held the greatest hauls of wealth. Getting the funds to build up the Scourge Fleet even further was my top priority.
Despite the Kult's machinations, the sailors, the colonists, the smuggling traders, they are all happy with the direction of the nation. Wealth is flowing, land is being tamed by hordes of slaves, and the fleet have even gotten used to having my observers on board. By my absolute will, the republic has been forged into something great, and as long as I live, I will not let it be consumed by mindless zealotry.
We have reaved a path across Noruin, from the Bloodgroves to Trollsbay. The resistance is getting steeper with each passing year, and I have had a close call more than once as I participate in the raiding parties. Once more we are planning to strike at the settlements on Trollsbay. Supposedly they have received shipments of new cannons from Cannor, and I would love to have those mounted on my flagship.
First though, I need to charge into those same cannons myself, and the quiet whispers at the back of my mind give me some pause. The Kult does not have a monopoly on access to Xhazob. I will sacrifice a slave in the morning and wear their blood as protection. Even if that is not enough, I know the republic will endure.
Excerpts from the sermon of Rri 'the twisted', Priest of Kentryn, made at the funeral of Chief Admiral Mykx
Mykx was blessed with pride, was a wielder of wrath, and held a greater greed for wealth and lust for power than any Gnoll since we crawled from the Pits. We are here, in this sea granted to us by Xhazob thanks to her works. Her mother was a priestess, who taught her great respect for the demonic host and the Kult. Her treasure built the great inextinguishable pyre that stands before you! I call upon our slavedrivers to have a grand pyre ship built so that she may joined Xhazob through the ocean, which she loved and respected in equal measure.
Keeping a good record of two updates per narrator. They sure die quickly, but that is a Gnoll's lot in life.
But her great work cannot be allowed to halt here! We have established near unopposed control over these islands and these seas, but the land to the north is steadily filling with weak and soft settlers who think themselves safe just because they settled away from the coast. I call upon the crowd, make me Chief Admiral and I will strike at them directly. Our flayers will ravage Noruin, raze it to the ground, and return all the survivors to the Everpyre to feed the endless hunger of Xhazob and his host!
There will be those who think us mad. The Captains hoard their loot, the Smugglers consort with heathens to siphon away our funds, the Colonialists waste money building homes rather than tearing them down. Their enthusiasm may wain, but the nightmare that Mykx intended to visit upon the pitiful creatures of Aelantir will persist, no matter how many challengers might rise from within and without. All will feel the steel of the Demonic Republic of Mykx!
It is a coincidence that the economic buffs we got at the start expired at the same time Mykx did, but narratively appropriate.
To be continued…
Vote
The Captains are not happy that the Kult has taken power. They are debating amongst themselves whether a coup is in order, and whether allowing the rabble to have a vote in selecting the Chief Admiral was the correct idea at all. Surely for Gnolls the mightiest commander should be the one to take power; winning the title through blood and struggle rather than words and manipulation. On the other hand, if Rri is successful then great wealth and power awaits. They could give him a chance to rebuild the economy with the blood and gold of the Cannorian settlers, improve his skills in leadership, and demonstrate his triumphs at the next election. What is their decision?
(In game terms, this is referring to the next government reform tier. That same tier includes War Against the World, but it is explicitly disabled for Gnolls so is not an option, and I have modded the mod to remove one other option from that tier for reasons I will get into when they are relevant.)
Pirate Queen – Rulers are selected from recruited admirals, with stats based on the admiral's skill. They rule for life and do not require re-election, but are stuck with the stats they start with. The Captains gain another boost in influence in the government.
Elected Admiral – Rulers are selected from the four factions. They start with low stats but can build them up over the course of their reign. (aka Status Quo)
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