A Story from Subotai

This story came to me in my sleep, a bit of a dream that woke me up, and then my half-awake mind took over . . . This seems to be a common occurrence as of late.

This is a story about an non-player character of mine in the present campaign, a character named Subotai.  He has little to do with the ‘Conan the Barbarian’ character . . . this character has a bit of Subotai’s personality, but also a lot of a character named Old Diehard from a movie called Warriors of Heaven and Earth.  He’s older, appearing to be in his 50’s, but still quick and strong . . . and he’s very good with a bow.

Subotai, Grimm (another npc) and Bo (a player character) are training at the academy of the Order of Light for a mission.  Other members of their team are Carson (yeah, him), his brother Johnathen, the Varaig Hrothgar and a noble-scholar named Gwilym.  Subotai and Bo (Subotai is Uzbeki and Bo is a Chin) decide on an evening out . . . Subotai’s friend Grimm joins them . . . . 

A Story from Subotai

After a day of training, the next day being their free day, Subotai and Bo discuss a walk to check out the Merchants Quarter.  They’ve heard of a collection of Chin merchants and an Inn nearby and they are curious.  Grimm hears them speaking of the walk and decides to join them.

   The trio leaves the Order of Light compound and moves along the north side of the square.  They do begin to see signs of businesses of the Chin, and in fact an entire section of the north side of the square is devoted to the folk of the Chin and others of the east.  Subotai states that he recognizes the script of his folk the Uzbeki on a few businesses.

   A small street branches off and has eastern trees, cherry and magnolia.  Bo sees an Inn and they head that way.  Subotai stops and carefully indicates a pictogram in Chin script.  Bo says that he understands the idea of the script, but is confused by it’s placement.  Subotai says the pictogram is on all of the businesses in a variety of places, mostly not in obvious placement.  Grimm acknowledges and says she has never seen it before.

   “It is a sign to travelers.  I have seen it in many places, in the realms of East Nesloryan and Hadron’s Bastion, as well as in the Scythian lands, in the lands of my folk and in the Chin borderlands where I was raised.  Wherever your folk go, Bo, if outside of the purview of their own people, this sign is an indication that the structure is a safe place for Chin wayfarers, a place of sanctuary in a foreign land.  It includes an additional mark including the Uzbeki folk in this protection.”

   Bo nods, not having been in places where such a thing would exist.

   Grimm laughs and places a hand on her friends shoulder.  “That, my friend, is possibly the longest string of words I have ever heard you put together, and it included a bit about your past as well.  You are in a talkative mood this evening.  Mayhap we might hear a bit more about your past?”

   “Mmmmm . . . probably not,” Subotai replied smiling and he lead the pair into the side street.

   The trio moves forward.  On the right an inn appears, and the trio moves towards it.  There were two doors of entry, Grimm notes, one on the dirt approach to the building and another beyond where bricks had been laid to provide a cleaner, more durable surface.  Grimm remembered a time that she and Subotai had entered a Chin business in Hadron’s Bastion.  The Chin people show respect by cleaning or removing their shoes prior to entering a business.  She smiles and nods to herself and is suddenly glad that she wore were clean town shoes as opposed to her war boots.  She follows the pair to the far door. 

   Inside is an L shaped common room and eight Chin and Uzbeki customers and a male worker at the bar.  It was unseemly for women to work as barmaids in their lands, Grimm remembered.  Any Chin establishment where women were working is usually some level of ‘pleasure palace’.

   Grim and Bo take seats at an empty table as Subotai goes to the worker and orders drinks.  He comes back with a small tray with three small bowls.  The contents of each are a liquor, soft pink in colour.  “Pelju, flavoured with cherry blossoms and herbs,” he says as he places the tray on the table.

   “A runt has entered joined us,” a Chin man, a large, fat, somewhat ugly Chin man exclaims loudly in the Chin language, “and a runt female at that.”

   “A jackass has spoken,” Grimm replies, also in the Chin language.  “His trainer should have taught him better manners.”

   The fat Chin stands and stares down at her, but he is distracted as Bo stands and eyes him.  “She is my guest,” Bo says, “and we mean no harm here.  We are travelers who only wish to feel the comforts of home for a time.”

   “And she insulted me,” the fat man slowly growled, “and that . . .”

   “. . . was your own fault,” says Subotai, still seated at the table, but eyeing the man.  Subotai spoke slowly but precisely in perfect Chin, drawing Bo’s attention away from the fat Chin.  “You insulted her in your language, expecting that she would not understand.  It would be best if you pester her no longer . . . she is capable of snapping you in half.“

   “And you, a gorum nomad, acting like your word means anything.”  His voice was slurring, a sure sign of intoxication.

   “Yun, that is enough.”  The voice of a newcomer carried the authority of someone who expected he would be obeyed.  “You have had enough to drink.  It is time for you to return home and sleep off your anger.”

   The newcomer was an elderly man, slight and short in stature.  Appearing to be about Subotai’s age, his blazing black eyes expected no argument, and he received none.  Yun slowly nodded and turned, walking from the establishment.

   “I apologize for Yun.  His cousin was beaten by a trio of locals not long ago, and he holds a grudge,” the older man said as he walked to the table and acknowledged the three.  “I am Chon Li, owner of the Cherry Blossom Inn.  Welcome and be comfortable,” he paused and looked down at Grimm, sitting at the table sipping from her bowl of Pelju.  “She sips the Pelju as one who has the manners of one of our own.”  He switched to dwarven and added, “You are welcome here, stone-sister.”

   “You are gracious and kind,” Grimm replied in Chin, “and you have a fine establishment.”

   Bo bowed to Chon Li.  “The harm seemed to be caused by too much Doiju,” Bo said gravely.  “I am Tetshibo, monk of the Buddha.  I am warrior from Guenzhou who has joined the cause of these folk.  I must admit, your establishment and your manners are causing me to miss my home, even though it has not been long since I was there.”

   Subotai stood and bowed as well.  “Our companion is Freida Braveaxe, known as Grimm, a powerful ally and companion.  I go where she goes, as I owe her a life debt.  I,” Subotai paused for a considerable time before continuing, “I am Cho Subotai-qul, born a freeman in the town of Ihnya, sired by Amul-komon and borne to Cho Mailu, a woman of Shinsuan.”

Chon Li raises an eyebrow at this, but he bows in return and says, “My folk have lived in this land for many years, but they originated in Chang-sing.  Our folk living in this town are from many regions of Cathay-Jia, but all from our land are welcome.”  Chon Li paused and then asked, “Do I understand that you were borne a Fu-li, a freeman, but that you were once a slave?”

Grimm turned her head towards Subotai at this, her eyes wide.  Subotai looks at her and nods, and he suddenly looks his age, which she guesses to be fifty to sixty years.

“I am Subotai, of the Shinsuan family Cho, Fu-li and former qul, slave.  My father was Amul the scout-rider, an Uzbeki who loved a Chin woman and dwelled in a town for her.  My mother was Cho Mailu, a woman who loved an Uzbeki man and left her land to live with him in the trade town of Ihnya. 

“I was born in Ihnya and was raised there.  My father used his knowledge and skill as a scout for the town’s guard and he began to teach me these skills when I was a boy.  I was taught to ride and to run and to shoot the bow.  I was small but strong and swift and no one could catch me when I ran.  My mother taught me the letters of her folk, and of languages and of the tales of her ancestors.  She also taught me of the goddess Quan Yin, and my father taught me of Teisheba of the four winds . . . and I was happy.

“The folk of my father raided Ihnya one summer and my parents were killed.  I was taken as a prize and enslaved.  I had not quite seen my thirteenth summer.

“I was a slight and thin child and small for my age.  When my captors identified my ancestry,” he raised his hand and brushed aside his long gray hair and revealed an ear which had been mutilated, the upper part showing scars that healed poorly, “the mark of the fey, the elves, I was cut to make me conform to their norm.”  He lowered his hand and allowed his hair to fall over his ears again.

“I was learned, as were my mothers folk, and I was passed from owner to owner until I came into the possession of a concubine of the great war leader Khusta An.  Her name was Jasur.  She enjoyed my quick mind and I was soon running errands for her and dealing with her menial chores and work.  I was taught stealth and spying and eavesdropping, for she yearned to know the secrets of others.  Soon after that, she began to teach me more subtle arts, palming objects and hiding things.  She used me to collect items from her enemies, as she fashioned herself a ‘sehrli’, a witch or hexer, and she use her ‘magik’ to jinx her enemies and help her insinuate herself with the leader Khusta An, An the Master.

“The clan of Khusta An was a moderately-sized one, but their territory was coveted by two of the larger Uzbeki groups.  Khusta An suddenly announced one day that he would lead the clan to a great destiny in the west.  The clan’s journey would be long, but their reward would be great.  My mistress Jasur had planted the idea in his head, and my fate would be determined by this deception.

“After four years in captivity, I was suddenly on a long journey, a trek which lasted over a year.  The people cried for the woes that they suffered on this journey, for we were beset by tribes of nomads and then the dark creatures in the lands of the Tog Odlari, the Fanged-Beings and then we were tested by the desert known as the Sea of Bones.  After four years of soft living, I again gained the form and body of an active youth.  I was better fed than most, as I was a slave of Jasur.

“Finally, we reached the shores of a great lake, a sea, and were told that we had arrived.  We cut out a territory on the southwestern shore of the sea, a land of scattered settlements of farmers and herders, Scythian folk.  These lands had no overlord and Master An soon controlled their lands, requiring them to work for him and taking them as slaves if they refused.  This new land was not for a softer folk, but it suited the soul of the Uzbeki.  Master An ruled a territory from the Caspan Sea west to the Karakum, a wasteland.  Within a year he had taken over a trading town on the great river Amu Dorya, and he suddenly he controlled the main east-west trading route between the east and the nations of the west.

“My escape from the folk of Master An came soon after this.  While in the trade city, Jasur died.  She was poisoned, and I too was sick for a short time, as I had taken a sip of wine from the same container.  When I recovered, I was told that the preparations were being made for Jasur’s musqa yonis, the sacred burning, and that I would join her on the fire.

“They were unaware of the skills taught to me by Jasur, for I was soon out of the camp of Master An and in amongst the traders of the town.  I stowed away on a riverboat heading down stream and away from slavery.  I never looked back.”  Subotai paused and looked around the room.  “I am Subotai-komon, scout and archer.  I am Cho Subotai of the family Cho of Shinsuan.  I am Subotai, of the Uzbeki folk and the Chin.”

There was quiet for a bit until Chon Li broke the silence.  “Welcome, Subotai-komon of the family Cho.  We are honored by your presence.”

Subotai seated himself and began to sip at his bowl of Pelju.  He found that Grimm was staring at him intently.  “I have been enriched by your story, my friend,” she said softly in Chin.  She paused for a few seconds before asking in Havloran, “ . . . so, how old are you.”

Subotai stopped and thought for a few moments and replied, “Eighty-one”, and returned to sipping his Pelju.

© 2017 Thomas D Taylor All Rights Reserved