Well, this one won’t necessarily feel as democratic by game-end, but I’d say: anything that encourages the growth of lots of rival small power centers, rather than massive empires. Prevent big powers from forming in the wreckage of the Hegemony, and you’re increasing the long-term opportunities for exit (and thereby for voice), making it harder for elites to monopolize economic, intellectual, or political opportunities.
And it’s snippet day, so here’s one of the things Alasais might choose to invest in:
Summary
Korren disappears for several days and returns with another
*set d2n_num alaala
*gosub d2n
Alastors–outsiders, strangers to Irduin. This @{(alaala = 10) sudden tripling of|extraordinary surge in} enforcers casts a pall of dread over the whole village. The helots largely disappear from public view; the free commonsfolk regard the stream of armored newcomers with distaste verging on horror.
From the safety of the stable loft that first night, you hear a babble of unfamiliar voices, singing songs and laughing raucously until nearly dawn. Barely anyone without an omphalos on their chest appears in the Chesnery caskroom through the evenings that follow. Maurs and Tamran don’t seem to share in the general fear, but their dismay at the change is plain.
When you next spot Captain Korren talking with Farrec Strabaud, you drift close enough to overhear. The merchant looks and sounds queasily unsure of himself. “…know we agreed there was need for more, Captain. But @{(alaala > 10) with so many of them…how|} can you be sure they’re trustworthy? None of them thieves or telltales?”
“They were picked and sent to us by one of the few men in Mesniel I trust,” the bearded Alastor growls bleakly. “Can I be sure of them? Of course not. But with the way things were tending, can I be sure of our neighbors here, either–sure they wouldn’t invite some rebel in who’ll try to kill the de Irde scions?”
“Or set our houses ablaze,” Farrec murmurs.
“Aye, or that. That was the hardest thing for our lady to hear. She saw the truth of it, though. Better to invite in a few armed guests now than let the village slide toward an outbreak that could bring a hundred more swarming in uncontrolled.”
Control is clearly the captain’s main preoccupation. Whether drilling his fresh troops or leading them on sweeps of the surrounding countryside, you can tell that Korren is keeping them on as tight a leash as possible.
*set ird_unity -alaala
*choice
#I join the murmurs that he’s only barely keeping them from their usual course of thievery and rape.
*set ird_unity -(cha x 3)
Irduin’s accustomed to having a mere handful of Alastors, all save the captain drawn from the local commonsfolk. And yet even here, everyone knows the stories. Everyone’s heard what kind of people prefer to hide their faces under an enforcer’s helm.
“The Captain’s only one man,” you observe quietly to the yeomen you still see now that no one comes regularly to the Alastor-infested inn. “How long can he keep these newcomers off our backs? Whatever the de Irde may be paying them, they’re surely used to making more by preying on every household in their range.”
No one ever argues with you. Sometimes fearful, sometimes furious, they take up your theme even more openly. With so many other Irduines fretting over the same threat, @{(cha > 1) you’re sure Korren and Alasais never|you doubt Korren and Alasais ever} hear that you specifically have been stirring the pot.
*page_break
*goto alas_dec_9
#I provoke a direct confrontation by making it look as if the newcomers are stealing from the folk of the villages.
*set ird_unity -alaala
*set ird_sus +(5-com)
With so few strangers passing through, Irduin (like Rim Square) has always been a place where folk leave their doors unbolted and their household tools in easy reach. @{((ird_focus = 4) or (ird_subfocus = 4)) Pouls|You only know Pouls the yeoman from the Chesnery, but you’ve seen there that he} likes to whittle; he’s carved faces and ivy leaves into the handles of his sickles and skinning knives, with enough skill to draw the eye and earn a few extra coins if they were sold.
@{(com > 1) No|You’re fairly sure no} one sees you pilfering those tools from his house, or concealing them in a barracks outbuilding. Since Pouls, like most of the other villagers, is no longer coming regularly to the Alastor-infested inn, it takes Captain Korren several days to hear about his fuming speculations on the identity of the thieves. By then, the entire yeomanry knows of the matter.
Around sunset that day, Korren stalks into the yard where you and a few other yeomen have gathered for a drink. Barely acknowledging the rest of you, he hands Pouls a bundle of cloth. “Heard these went missing.”
Pouls doesn’t look inside before retorting flatly, “Sounds like you knew where to find them, too.”
“They were barely hidden.” The captain’s voice is taut with anger. “Like someone wanted them found. Someone stirring up trouble for Irduin.”
“Or like someone not used to having to hide their thefts.” The implacable yeoman folds his arms across his burly chest.
“If that’s the case, they’ll learn how wrong they are when I catch them again and flog them out of the village.” Korren’s tone shifts to half-pleading, and while his eyes stay on Pouls, you know he’s addressing everyone in earshot. “But if anything goes missing, tell me, man. I can’t keep order here if it takes a bloody week for me to hear of a crime.”
For their part, the new Alastors lose the amused tolerance with which they’d treated Korren’s concern for the commonsfolk. Getting threats and a tongue-lashing puts a newly sharp, sullen edge on their relations with the village. “Scarcely a Xthon’damned thing worth stealing in the whole place,” you hear one of them growl. “Some peasant thinks we want his rusty knives because he scratched a flower on the hilt? They’re looking for reasons to hate us. The Captain needs to see that.”
From some of the sharp looks Korren gives you, you wonder uneasily if anyone spotted you near the barracks. But he doesn’t bring any accusations against you. Either you’re imagining things, or he decided it was better not to draw more attention to the matter.
*page_break
*goto alas_dec_9
#I publicly welcome the Alastors and @{(irdgoal > 3) act as if I’m trying|try} to ease the tensions between them and the villagers.
It’s by far the best way to keep @{(ird_sus > ird_sus_med) dispelling the cloud of suspicion that’s built up around you|anyone from suspecting your identity as a rebel}, @{(irdgoal > 3) even if it does|and it should} somewhat reduce the strains on Irduin’s order.
As the most recent previous newcomer and a supposed refugee from the Rim, you reckon it’ll seem natural enough for you to approach the Alastors with words of welcome. @{(ird_sus < ird_sus_med) When|But when} you walk into the barracks area of the de Irde estate, Captain Korren greets you with @{(ird_sus < ird_sus_med) a wary but cordial nod|a tense, faintly hostile air}. “This is the roving @{sralibi tinker|herbalist|tutor|fighter|player} ${ird_name}, lads. Been in the village for what, half a year now? What brings you up here today?”
“As you said, Captain, Irduin’s welcomed
*if alone
me, and given me
*if alone
me and my @{(gam and cerl_here) friends,|friend,} and given us
shelter for months.” You offer him a @{(ird_sus < ird_sus_med) warm|wry} smile. “So I wanted to join in doing the same for our new arrivals.”
“Join?” A young, broad-jawed Alastor laughs savagely. “As if anyone else from the whole damned village has given us so much as a friendly word in passing?”
Korren cuts him off by rapping sharply on the helmet he’s holding. “This helm and armor give you power, not trust–and we’ve all seen more than bloody enough to know why, haven’t we? Even if none of you ever joined in?” When none of the other Alastors respond, he continues: “You’re new here, in a place that doesn’t see many outsiders. Put in the work to earn my trust, and I reckon you’ll win the villagers’, too.”
“The folk of Irduin were a bit standoffish when I first arrived,” you add with knowing sympathy. “Don’t take it to heart. A few weeks in, they’ll open up.”
The Alastors are still somewhat sullen and harsh around you, but that eases when you start joining them in the Chesnery caskroom again.
*if ((ird_focus > 2) or ((ird_subfocus > 2) and (ird_subfocus < 5)))
You coax some of the commonfolk back in to join you, and see the first hints of cautious rapport starting to grow over Maurs’s ale.
set ird_unity +(cha2)
*if ((ird_focus > 4) or (ird_subfocus = 5))
None of the helots or drudges will come near the place, though. “They’re used to herding us to the Harrower, not drinking alongside us,” Cynneve says bleakly. “Korren’s told us to keep our distance.”
*if irdgoal > 3
*set ird_unity +(cha+3)
*if irdgoal <= 3
set ird_unity +(cha3)
*set ird_sus -3
*fake_choice
#Showing even the slightest trace of respect to the Hegemony’s enforcers turns my stomach, but I hide that as thoroughly as I can.
#I amuse myself by imagining their faces when I kill them all one day.
#Maybe these ones actually aren’t all that bad. I don’t hear them talking about a past of extortion or brutality.
#We’ll never be able to punish all the Alastors. Getting some practice at making peace with them is no bad thing.
*goto alas_dec_9