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Post by cardinalmisdirection on Aug 23, 2020 0:12:39 GMT -5
Plato's Cave by: Some Dude that makes Calendar's to sell in Wal-Mart
The allegory states that there exists prisoners chained together in a cave. Behind the prisoners is a fire, and between the fire and the prisoners are people carrying puppets or other objects. This casts a shadow on the other side of the wall. The prisoners watch these shadows, believing them to be real.
Plato posits that one prisoner could become free. He finally sees the fire and realizes the shadows are fake. This prisoner could escape from the cave and discover there is a whole new world outside that they were previously unaware of.
This prisoner would believe the outside world is so much more real than that in the cave. He would try to return to free the other prisoners. Upon his return, he is blinded because his eyes are not accustomed to actual sunlight. The chained prisoners would see this blindness and believe they will be harmed if they try to leave the cave.
Continued for Your Consideration by: A Raven
Some say, that when the Prisoner returns, he instead is not blinded, but shares the truth of what he has seen. The prisoners come together believing him to be mad, and kill him. They never see the fire, they never consider his words, instead they are terrified that the Shadows on the Wall will be upset, and silence the escapee. You can remember that lesson as we go forward or you can forget it. The choice is yours.
If you asked a Wolf what his territory is like, he could tell you everything about it. Every detail would be perfect to him, and yet it would be an imperfect truth. If you wanted to know everything about what Kentucky, The Bloodied Ground, was like, and you asked a wolf, or a cat, or a rat... they would give you a perfect recollection. Of a Shadow. If you asked a history book or an atlas what Kentucky Was, or What Kentucky was like... they would give you countless facts and details about counties and peoples. Events, years, and cities, all recorded and explained in detail. Once you have flown above it, however, you realized that these details are also just shadows; under clouds, under Helios, and hidden to the Prisoners.
Does the next county begin at the sign? Does the creek that rolls along the border start on the slopes of the mountain, or the spring that floods with winter's melt? Does the Census become a lie when the people from Madison drive to Fayette every morning? Does the Bastet lose their den to the Crow the moment they leave? Or was that always the price for surrendering control to the Wolf? When the Cats killed the Bears, was that because the Bears let them down, or because the Cats chose their Major Domo poorly?
SO when you ask me to tell you about history, I instead will tell you about a task.
I once told an old farmer he would do well to plant a tree on the far hill of his land. He told me about how much saplings cost, how far the trip was, how old he was, and how difficult the work was. I then told him, his granddaughter would live on this farm and meet the love of her life here. She would walk on that hill and if there was a comfortable place to lay, she and her love would consummate their union. Before the following summer, his great grandchild would be born. Though he would never see it, that great grandchild would bare his name, and would live a life he could be proud of.
That old man told me I was mad. He fanned his face, lowered his head, and went inside to rest. The tree was never planted. Now, I suppose I never died, and I don't recall being blinded. That little girl is now a woman, and though she remembers her first love fondly, she does not have time to dream now that she has 3 jobs and 2 children to raise alone in a Louisville duplex. Perhaps that explains why I don't speak much about history, or perhaps why I need you to escape from where you are, before I answer your questions?
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Post by cardinalmisdirection on Aug 23, 2020 1:41:21 GMT -5
The Ratkin Feud, Survival Guide, and King's Policy By: Ned the Narwhal, Night Shift Bodisattva
What do you do when a group of Gaia's own, attempts to ethnically cleanse you? How about when they try it twice? What about when the punishment for those attempts is so slight, that they still brag about the latest attempt, and generally don't consider the first try at genocide as anything more than a joke? Go ahead and come up with a reply, I can wait.
You, of course, get revenge. It feels good, it removes the worst offenders from the face of Gaia, and it... in some small part... allows the grieving to begin. It does not return the dead to life, nor does it heal the harm done. So you heal. It hurts, and you never think you will get through it, but you do. You heal. If you are blessed to be a bird brain, like you and me, then you also learn. Learning, perhaps is the final stage of healing? Maybe it is something that happens through the entire terrible process, but in any case, you must learn.
Coyote's Folly
The first assault on our people came when, in the Ancient Days, Coyote left. Some of us call this Coyote's Folly. See, some terrible events happened here on the Bloody Ground, and many, many of us Fera had harmed one another, or generally become negligent. Without going to far abroad, an entire tribe of very, very stern wolves picked a fight that got them killed. Having never been in a situation where we didn't have to deal with wolves bossing someone around, many of the Fera started just doing whatever it is they thought they ought to do. When the brothers, sisters, and cousins of those wolves arrived, they were not pleased and they went to restoring the Wolf Order. So what does this have to do with Coyote?
Coyote and Raven are brothers from other mothers. We are both responsible for wisdom and learning. We are both tricksters, to varying degrees. They laugh from the belly and we laugh from the brain, but we do laugh. We both talk too much, and like to stir shit, then head out. The nuances make all the difference, of course, but we are not that far apart. When they said the stern wolves were not coming back, we didn't listen, instead we laughed. When they said more wolves were coming, of course we flew out and met them, but we never put two-and-two together. See, we became complicit to a few things the moment we overlooked how many, truly pissed off wolves there were. So, when WE showed them all of their brothers' lost lands, we may not have expected their response. Then, when the other Fera died, we were spared. Once the killing started, we shut the fuck up and hopped in the trees. This is exactly one moment before Coyote's Folly.
Now that Context is out of the way; Coyote set about telling everyone how much we knew; how we guided the wolves, and that THEY had warned us. Of course, in his way (and his children's way) he had, but we didn't get the full lesson notes here. He pointed a finger, had a laugh, and said this wasn't the end of it. Then he gave a wave and left. Off the Nuwisha went, to lands in the West, with no explanation. See, one trickster to another, the lesson was well heard, and we were already making adjustments in our Murders. We already knew we fucked up, but Coyote did not stay around to explain the joke to everyone else. The other Fera were mad, and we were ready for that. The Rats though... They don't get Mad. They go insane with Fury.
This started a decade of slaughter that they called their "test run". They assaulted kin, they robbed nests, they turned wolves against us with the few allies they had. It was during this time that the Ratkin numbers fell to almost half of what they originally claimed to have. They threw so many bodies at us, and ruined so many alliances they had set, that the only thing that stopped them from wiping us both out was their own Hierarchy of Needs. If the Snake had not stepped in to save us, we might not be in Kentucky today, and the Rats would have happily insured that with mutual annihilation.
Lesson learned. Never, ever turn your back on a Rat, and never trust another Fera to step in. This lesson was tragic, and it was formative. For the centuries that followed, there was absolutely no trust. We kept to our own, and always kept a healthy distance between ourselves and the Ratkin. We kept tabs on them, and we watched them, but never, ever close enough for them to reach us.
Fury's Promethean Flames
In 1918, I believe it was a December, but it doesn't really matter. We uncovered a plot to assassinate a number of Garou mates. Now this plot came from none other than the Rats out West. No love lost, and recognizing this for the terrible idea it was, we did let the Garou know. For the most part, that was the end of it for us. We let them handle it. However, we could never know that in that same moment, one of the Silver Fangs had a wife on her death bed. Lovely woman, spent her time caring for the poor, and apparently she caught the same illness that was sweeping through the land. The Silver Fang used the money and expertise they had, but despite that, she passed. This set off a chain of events we could not foresee, but that we certainly paid for.
The poor woman's passing sent a sorrowful rage through the Silver Fang Kincaids, and they demanded answers. Kinfolk healers, and Garou alike could not just tell them that she was frail and this flu was different. It is true that the Rats use disease as a weapon, and to be fair, plenty of shifters saw the efficacy of THE SPANISH FLU, and suspected, but no one knew. So the Wolf Kings, in their rage were ready to make SOMEONE suffer, and the Garou gave them rumors to blame rather than pay themselves. The Fianna passed on the word, and the Red Talons were asked to handle the problem. They did an amazing job of that, and the Rats were immediately taken by surprise. To this day, I feel the Bone Gnawers would have stepped in if the Ratkin were not to blame.
We were only one month away from learning the most painful lesson, for the second time. All that rage, all that pain, all that fury never, ever, ever goes away, it just changes form. The Silver Fangs grief moved through the Fianna Fear into the Red Talon's Duty, and speed past Bone Gnawer indifference! Before you know it, The RATS turned it into a white hot assassin's knife. Unable to fully retaliate against the Garou, they came for their allies, their messengers. This time, they did it quickly, quietly, and with a hatred that MUST have come from the Wyrm itself. They blighted nests, raided den realms, trapped and murdered kin fetch we didn't even know they knew about. They poisoned stashes, removed contacts, kidnapped allies. We were, in one year, both isolated and crippled from everything we built and relied on. By the end of 1919, we were reduced (not just in Kentucky, but the surrounding states) to 50% of our original numbers, with our Kin being down to 60%.
If that was bad, the years that followed were worse. We realized only too late about the entrapped spirits, and The Curse of Barren Skies. Barren Skies was some twisted weapon the Ratkin used which left Raven mothers with infertile wombs, and eggs which never hatched. With a generation of Barren Skies, and the spirits we relied on to find our raven children compromised, our numbers continued to decline. We retaliated, of course. We desperately hid our loses, afraid our allies would abandon us or that the Ratkin would attack again. We also kept ourselves close to the Garou for protection, but even as we suffered they never once noticed our pain... only our uses. Finally, in an attempt to escape, many young Corax fled.
By 1952, our numbers were reduced to 25% of what they were in 1917. That one year of conflict continued to affect the Corax for nearly 35 years. The Ratkin had improved their efficiency by a factor of 10. Yes, they were hunted by the Red Talons, but not for what they did to us. They were hunted for the passing of ONE SINGLE KIN. For what they did to us, we get only placations and promises for 'if it ever happens again'. The most ancient, before they passed, begged their children for forgiveness for not protecting their future. In those days, Raven mothers wept for their children, as they knew they would live in a world without hope.
Lesson Learned. It was no longer enough to be smart, make smart plays. The cost was too great, and there would be no future on The Bloodied Ground if we kept on as we were. We trusted others, we played our part, and we had been annihilated not once, but twice. This was a loosing game and we were on the loosing team.
Ratkin Policy Going Forward
The Ratkin, for what ever reason, are Gaia's last ditch antibody, intended to destroy anything that might threaten her with extinction. They are a desperate measure. They are mad; pointless fury incarnate. We made the mistake of assuming there was reason, or empathy inside of them. Never again, will we assume that. When possible, and without loss to your nest, point them towards their demise. Assist them only if their death is likely. Do not attempt to reason with them, short of an immediate manipulation. Treat them like a lit stick of TNT and use them on a foe or throw them away as needed.
Never assume other Fera, even Garou, will ever understand the danger they represent. Those idiots can assume whatever they like. Our understanding of this plague has come at an unthinkable cost. While we will never be able to regain what we lost, we can direct their pointless energies towards the Wyrm and our enemies. If you actually count other Fera as your allies, then feel free to lie to and manipulate them as needed to protect them from the Rat threat. This includes the Garou that pretend to follow Rat. They may not be malicious, however they are lethally negligent.
We will not sink to the level of Rat. However, we do not need another mindless attempt at genocide to learn the truth... The Ratkin are a species of soulless brutes that were only placed here to be used as weapons, and should be expended with absolutely no guilt for their loss, nor sympathy spent on their passing.
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Post by cardinalmisdirection on Aug 23, 2020 3:31:12 GMT -5
The Black King By: "The Late" Anatole Reed-Sucker
May very well not exist. He/It could be a Zeitgeist, it could be a Corax, it could be an Organization. It doesn't matter because The Black King is real enough to be felt in the life of any Corax that pays attention. By the end of the 80's and the beginning of the 90's, enough was happening in the world that didn't make any sense. By the year 2000, January 1st, there was a Black King and we are all richer for it. When the Millennium changed, we changed. Gossip had a point, motion created emotion, and our people were finally, for the first time, moving not out of fear, but with purpose.
Pamphlets were how I first learned of him. They were left at rap battles, poetry slams, and book clubs. In 2002, while the world was on fire for war, The Black Icon (a Chess Crown spray painted) was seen in both Nashville and Cincinnati. Rumors spread. A Mosque in Louisville had a Black Crown in the windows. A Natural Gas explosion shut down Ashland Refinery for 6 months. A letter with a Black Crown was sent to the feds. In 2006, a computer virus crashed FBI data bases in the region, a black crown and the words "checkmate" left on the servers. By 2008, there were Murders gathered in his name, presided over by officers (pieces) appointed by him. Then in 2011, I heard from a crow... not a homid, but a corvid born that they were seeking The Black King. That was when I joined, you see. At that moment, when this Crow from a nest, somewhere in North Carolina flew to Kentucky, to deliver a message to The Black King. I said, "Follow me. You can speak to his assistants tomorrow night.".
It was on that day, and I have never regretted it. Perhaps we do follow an Urban Legend. Perhaps the tithe we give to the Court is just lost treasures. Maybe it is just us, The Court, that make him real. But when I was speaking to that Raven from North Carolina, I heard Belief in his caw. I heard the sound of Hope. Those sounds were so foreign, for so long, that I needed to keep that sacred thing alive for him. For me. And so on that day, The Black King became real. My doubt is dead, Long live the King.
Edicts of the Black King
(exerts collected; not exhausted)
Service:
All Corax Serve Helios, even myself.
All that serve Helios, serve Truth, also called Wisdom.
In Service to Truth, you accept it is invaluable. Thus, it MUST be freely given to ALL who serve Helios.
Falsehoods have value, and thus should be sold and bartered as currency.
All Falsehoods are in service to the truth. Any falsehood that serves anything else, is a foe of Gaia.
Taxes:
My Pieces, Your Tithes, our Goals; serve ME.
I serve Helios, and then I serve you.
I cannot, serve Myself.
Tithe to the Court what you are moved to Tithe.
Serve the Court as you are asked, until you cannot.
You are your families Tithe, take nothing from them.
Others:
Once you escape your cave, and do not blink from Helios; I will be reveled to you.
Do not attempt to speak to the prisoners, instead flay the puppeteers.
Feed those in chains falsehoods to insure their freedom. Do not trust, nor hate a prisoner.
Teach a prisoner to be free, never free them.
Apocalypse:
Puppeteers of the three want to be correct, they do not care about the truth.
The End is a Shadow, and it serves as an enemy of Gaia.
Prisoners will make it so, killing you for fear of the Shadows.
Do not trust the Apocalypse, and free those that fear it. |
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Post by cardinalmisdirection on Aug 23, 2020 8:26:31 GMT -5
Modern Living: The Black Court and You By: Justin "the Off Chance" Case
Modern Life among the Corax is not terribly different from the old days, until it is. Nothing about the Black Court (The Kings Murder, The Pieces Tower, etc. etc.) and life above The Bloodied Ground is different from the common life of the common crow in the common world. What does change is subtle, and unbelievably important. If you are a Corax, flying through on your way somewhere else, then we just play the hick. Give some directions, chew the carrion and have a laugh. Off you go, on your way. Off we go, back to work. See, even among our own, we got that Alfred Hitchcock game down.
At least every other month, sometimes more, but at least 6 Pieces Murders, and 2 Kings Murders are called in a Solar Year. They can be anywhere in the state, and sometimes in the neighboring ones, but never too far. Don't get your hopes up, he never attends. Or! He attends but just blends in, it is hard to say. There is always a Piece watching over a Murder, and the Jester and the Courtier Spirits, yada yada yada. Now, I have only heard about Kings Murders, but I can't imagine them being too different from the below, only with tons more glitz. These 'official' Murders add some formality to something that, candidly, lacked a certain amount of reverence. But they don't over do it, right? Try to imagine a Garou Moot, where even the biggest ego there can only stand their own voice for the 'Right' amount of time. That is what these things are.
Now you might imagine that it is hard to hear about these things, given the secrecy of the Monarch and all. You would be wrong. If you are ready to play in the court, you will find out about it. It could be at the bi-weekly craft beer festival you and the crew attend. It could be a message shared after a job well done for a pal. It could just be you finally getting approached by a man with a spirit. What most of us do, is get to our first one, and then proudly share how we can be reached in the future. Then, that is how we get the news. BTW, once in a while, you gotta be the guy with the spirit that approaches some numbnuts that doesn't get the first few hints.
Once YOU get there
Have something worth saying ready. I don't care if it is the best, worst joke you heard from your racist uncle. Slap on an ironic tone and let it rip. The worst thing you can do is be quiet. That makes you a spy, and we go to these things to stop spying for a tick, you get it? Next, dress the fuck up. Maybe not the clothes, cause they are usually still pretty corvid heavy, but at least clean and groom yourself. Side note, be ready to smash. Life is pretty stressful under in the Black Court, and when we get to wind down, we get wound up... ya get me? Next, and this is important, know thyself.
These Murders can be... well you know. If you are new in town and don't know your way around, don't pretend you do. See, life under the Black King involves a shit ton of self reflection, wisdom seeking, and learning. No one has time for a braggart that isn't willing to back it up, or a half assed Aesop. You aren't feeling 100%? Best bet is to act like, and own that your only at 75% that night. Sure you will get razzed and hazed, but you don't wanna bluff at this table. Show respect to the Jester, if he brought a great Pinata, and let them give you some shit. Duck when the spirits come to join, cause they can come in hot and heavy. Because of this, don't ASSUME that a spot in the roost is empty because it is waiting on you. Just settle in, and once the show begins, then you can play for the better seats.
I mention the Pinata? The show begins once the Pinata is revealed. To be fair, you might be able to see the thing before it starts, but usually it will have a bag or a hat on it's head. Once that comes off, and the Jester starts talking, then you shut up and let them talk. This is like when you see the Garou dance around and shout and snap those bones in half. Once the Jester is finished you thank them, regardless of how bad a job they might have done. If you weren't impressed, you will have all night to take a shot at them.
So now what?
Next we get that young buck stuff done. Some Ravens need to fight. Often this is symbolic, or just a display of skill. We aren't Garou, and we aren't out for blood, but these are tough times, and our warriors need a way to show off their skills since our normal discourse leaves them without much to add. They go through their forms, and they have their races, or take downs, and we celebrate, get riled up (it is exciting after all), then move onto business. This is when we start recognizing those that have completed previously assigned quests, and duties. In short, we get loud and rowdy. After that, we stay loud, but for a reason. We start....
To settle scores, and get into the legal shit! See, lots of Corax have grown accustomed to the new feudal life, even under the Philosopher King, and they will let shit slide until someone they trust can officiate. This means that right after everyone gets their blood pumping from the combat (mock combat, or whatever) they start airing out their issues. The good news is, for little shit, the crowd does a great job of just telling them to let it go, or shut up. This is also a great time for more respected Corax to prove why they are who they are. Numerous complaints will only go as far as a noteworthy Corax, and if they are willing to officiate, often problems get solved (or else you run the risk of offending the Raven of higher renown). However, as this loud ass cawing of grievances continues, some issues work their way up the branches, until a psuedo-mob of constituents bring the issue before the Piece in attendance. Usually, if one of your issues goes this high, you won't be speaking, instead, whatever Corax of renown stepped in to no ones satisfaction will be the one to present the case for you. You should let them do this, it is only polite after you ignored their solution.
Now, for a little inside scoop on this... if you have an issue that really is important, you should wait until the right Piece is holding the right Murder. This goes for the Rumors, which we will cover later, as well. Here is the skinny. If a Rook is running things, then the wrongful deaths, and territory issues are just right. Got an issue with someone giving you bad advice, wrong info, or breaking a promise? Wait for the Bishops. Someone waste your time? Did they send you on a Wyld Goose Chase, or screw with a fetish? Basically, resources... that is the perfect time for the Knights. Any of the Pieces can handle any of your problems, but usually, because they are good at handling a particular type of problem... well that's why they got the job after-all.
The Last Act
Finally, once the mobs and the rulings are handled, we move onto the real deal. We are dealing with info swapping and rumor mongering. Info Swapping is a free for all at first, trust me. It is like speed dating at last call. Now, the madness of it during the first 30 minutes does pay dividend, but you gotta let the system work. Start blurting out the keywords of the important stuff you wanna know about, or that you know. If your neighbor isn't blurting out the same thing, then swap places and get going. This will sound crazy, but eventually, you will run into someone shouting the same words as someone else was, and you then give them the 411 on who you chatted with, and where they could be now. They take off and you move on. Eventually, someone will tap you on the shoulder, shout the same keywords, and you too start sharing details. Then another, then another, then another will join. The madness works as its own filter.
That will take up the body of the meeting. The rumor mongering is pretty fun, but is usually pretty short. See, the Rumors are important. The Rumors are things that should be true, but aren't yet. It is like willing something into action. As the rumors are shared with the entire murder, it gets quiet then loud, then quiet. One raven of note will start a rumor song, then another will repeat it, or add to it. And so on, and so on, and so on. The idea, is that this is also how younger Raven begin to understand what needs to be done. It is a collective WISHLIST of the entire court. Once they are said out loud, a young raven knows who to go to after the Murder. Who to offer their services to, or who to go to later when they have a little something of value. These rumors can be added to or detracted from as a kind and gentle way to nudge the court towards or away from an action. You don't have to tell anyone who your Garou Informant is... you just have to add them to enough rumors of fortune, for the Corax present to understand that bad things SHOULDN'T happen to that person. Got me?
Finally, the Piece will call out any Raven that need to stay. They won't repeat themselves, so listen up. This is followed by the calling of the Spirits, and this gets wild. Spirits that were present and have completed their tasks or done their favors will go nuts! Walls, branches, bells, whatever will shake and shiver, and don't be surprised if you feel your spirit take a little tug. They get to feed from the Murder as part of their service. Further, other spirits that are now entering service will be assigned or will roar their continued service through previous agreements. This gets loud too. By know, you gotta know, nothing about these things are quiet. Once the spirits have their final say, we disperse. Actually, plenty of us take off just to sit nearby and finish catching up, getting down, or sharing. The Murder is over, however. If you gotta wait for a crow called by the Piece, then just find a good gather, sip some vodka, and share a smoke. Eventually, they will be free.
In closing
These things can be hard to take in. I know many older Corax think we have taken too much from the Garou. Some younger Corax try to up the stakes and others just find it all too exciting. They are probably all partially right. My advice to you is this... give yourself a day to prepare, take the day of off, and don't plan anything important for the following. You don't want to show up unprepared, you don't want to miss a thing, and you don't want your hangover to cost you too much. I hope all that helps. I know I talked your ear off, but if you can't take that in, then maybe you ought to fly the fuck on to Wisconsin. This is Black King territory, and we are up for whatever challenge our Liege sets for us.
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