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Chapter 8 - story

The small tribe consisted of about thirty people, in total.

Close to half, about a dozen of them, were the warriors. The raiders and the fighters, the ones that took up arms and would kill or capture people either because they had been paid to do so, or because they could later ransom them back or sell them on into slavery.

It was a practice closer in nature to the ancient greek form of it, or in more modern terms, an indentured servitude contract rather than the 'worked to death in the fields' form of slavery that showed itself with large plantation owners. Household servants, unrelated family members... live in maids and groundskeepers would see the roots of their profession in something like this. Even if, mostly, willingly becoming a slave instead of being captured in battle and sold was a resort of aging prostitutes that didn't get the same interest and number of customers that they used to, or gamblers that weren't able to walk away until they had lost everything and were looking for an alternative to starvation.

And there were ways to get out of it, of course. Not least, someone could buy their way out of slavery by working hard and earning merit. But there were also ritualized methods of 'escape' that would see a slave released from their bonds, if they followed the rules of the ritual and succeeded. Not all of the rituals made sense... one was simply to run from the owner's household to outside of the city boundaries and stomp on a pile of human feces, for example... but they had them. And not only that, interfering with a slave's break for freedom was sometimes grounds for punishment. Setting that aside, repeated failures to escape or particularly obstinate refusal to actually work made one eligible to be sold as sacrifice material... A great honor that was usually reserved for notable captured warriors, or seized nobility. Thus, you would sometimes see slaves that deliberately stopped their escape attempts halfway, or who were willfully lazy about their work, in the hopes of being sacrificed to the gods. The fact that such sacrifices were generally eaten afterward in a grand ceremony also didn't sway as many against the thought as one might think.

Jaguar took note of this, but didn't dwell on it. In any case, the dozen or so women warriors of the small tribe aside, the rest consisted of older women who only advised rather than fought directly, young children who had yet to reach an age where they could pick up and swing a heavy club in battle, and... the men of the tribe, who in a similar reversal to the women warriors would cook the food and make the medicine for their warriors. The way that, more generally, wives and women were expected to in other tribes.

As a leadership figure and a God, Jaguar was expected to have opinions on this. Was, in fact, expected to openly state those opinions in front of the entire small tribe as they were assimilated into the greater whole... which was, of course, going to be a touchy speech to make that was almost certainly going to upset someone, no matter what Jaguar actually said. Discussion of accepted social roles and norms were always like that.

But fuck it, who was the God here? Was someone going to have the balls to censure his opinion?

Jaguar made a brief speech that declared the important thing to be that someone did the hunting and farming and collection of resources and someone turned those resources into something that was useful or edible, but that while it was traditional that a man did the one and a woman the other, it was not required for such a household to be one man and one woman. Not making an exception specifically for the lifestyle of the Amazons, but rather saying that he considered their way to be an equally valid and acceptable alternative, as well as other functional options.

In its own way, he was covering his own ass going forward by laying the groundwork for a harem lifestyle being A-OK as long as everyone was into it, and that a potential crossdressing housewife or sexy maid was Good Civilization. Getting that in the open so that nobody would later go 'But Jaguar, your divine grace and awe-inspiring godliness, sir, why is it alright for you to have all of the bitches you want while we, your mortal servants, are restricted to a traditional monogamous heterosexual lifestyle?'... Well, the kings and noble figures were polygamous and would take many wives, but setting the Age Of Discovery one-percenters aside... Fuck it.

Fuck it, as long as it was a functional family where you weren't running things into the ground, do what you like and what makes you happy. Citation: Jaguar, who does not give a shit what kind of bedroom sports his mortal followers engage in as long as nobody dies or hates it enough to plot revenge, and who could not care less about who does someone else's cooking as long as it gets done.

Tannabok seemed... less than impressed about Jaguar's statement and a wizened crone among the small tribe let out low, cackling laughter about his 'fuck what you like, I ain't stopping you' opinion, but in general a sort of tension left the newcomers.

... What, had they anticipated that he was going to have them throw out all of their traditions and get in the kitchens while the men started farming after the immediate issue of Cortes was solved? That was stupid, though. That just meant that they'd do the job, then try to cut and run with the superpowers afterward and once he stripped the blessing from them he would be back to... square negative one, in fact, and not just zero, with the demonstration that people could try to cheat him on the deal. He would still have to try to find new Jaguar Warriors. Better to make sure that it wasn't going to be a problem, so that he didn't have to do the same job over and over again.

"This blessing is an empowerment, and will make you stronger. It is also a record of your deeds, meritorious, glorious, and clever as well as those shameful, despicable, and craven. Great deeds will stimulate it to allow further growth still... In combat. In diplomacy. In invention, and in discovery, and in demonstrations of great skill. All will provide the opportunity to gain power still greater than that of this initial blessing, bound in potential within the stories you shall inscribe upon your backs for me to read." Jaguar declared. "But the empowerment is of greatest benefit to warriors, and it is the role of my Jaguar Warriors that you will take on and uphold, after this day. Now... step forward, one at a time, and accept my blessing."

It was a true function of the Falna, even. After all, at its core, the blessing was technically designed to produce story-book heros for the entertainment of the Gods who collected them. There were benefits all around, but it was definitely slanted towards encouraging development towards the sort of archetypical hero that defiantly raised a shining sword against impossible odds. Wizards could benefit from it, and mythically skilled craftsmen, merchants could benefit in their Falna from striking an incredible deal, and soldiers could gain their own crumbs for taking part in a great battle. But it was focused on the individual hero claiming a thrilling and heart-pounding victory from the jaws of defeat and death.

The simple fact, though, was that most people in that position would just die. Nothing to be done about it, and all the same, even if an Adventurer realized after surviving by the skin of their teeth once or twice that level Two or Three were still pretty damn good and held themselves back to harvesting from weaker monsters in less intense battles... that still served a role to fuel Orario's economy, and played its own part in keeping the Dungeon in check as many Gods continued to roll dice for Ouranos, to see if they would eventually produce the Hero that could conquer it. It was clever of the God, and there was no mistake about that.

For now, though? A dozen Jaguar Warriors would be plenty for the current situation.

Much like with Tannabok, Jaguar tuned out the feed of individual history pouring into his head as he applied the Falna to their backs. Unlike the Gods of Orario, he wasn't starved for intimate knowledge of the human condition and experiences, after all... and he didn't crave children enough to consider these his own adopted progeny and want to know every little detail about their lives, either. So he set it aside, acknowledging their memories, their hopes, and their dreams for the future, but finding them utterly dull and generally in line with what he expected at a glance as he inscribed a Falna on the next back, and the next, and the next.

His mind was instead on suitable weapons to bypass the defense provided by steel armor.

Perhaps heavy wooden clubs, cored and coated with plates and bands of gold? It would be... suitably ironic, if nothing else.

Jaguar couldn't help the slight quirk of his lips at the comic thought of one crushing Cortes' skull down into his ribcage somewhere.