Shirley, acting as primary diplomat to the United Tribes of Der’al (or Refuge, as the rest of the tribes are now referring to themselves in the Earther manner), was sent on this diplomatic mission. Shirley and Vektor both raised their eyebrows at this, considering the importance of the matter. However, Urog patted Vektor on the shoulder, “Vektor, you deserve a break from your travels. Besides, Shirley needs more practice.” He motions over Hikiti, “Hikiti, go with Shirley.” Vektor looked as if he were going to argue, but chose against it. He was too tired to care. Hikiti shrugged, taking a few tribals with them as honor guard.
Shirley, with Hikiti in tow, entered the gathering space in Karov to discuss the matter of Immutables.
Shirley began by laughing awkardly, and very loudly, without formality. “Well … erm… ummmm… Immutables weren’t always disposed of in Brez. Warm bodies were warm bodies, ya know. We Brezans need 'em to fight off other gangs. So when we raise our young, we pit them against each other. E’ry day they fight. Bloody’em good, we say. The strong ones become our Ur Rhug… the weaker ones…” She motions to the non-Brezans in the rooms, “become our bottom feeders.” Hikiti winced as Shirley called all the other olgog assembled “weak.”
“When da oth’r gangs come to take over our terr’tory, everyone fights, toof 'n nail, to beat them back. It 'appens all da time.” Hikiti nodded, remembering the fights of his early youth… such as the one that killed his brother. “Sometimes, we can heal the dead and the wounded. Most of the time, they jus’ die. Af’er e’ry battle, the losers join the winners. An’ tha’s it. The only time that changes is when we raid for food 'n stuff.” Shirley let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “So we fight, we steal, n’ then we fight again.” Hikiti interjected, “In other words, it’s a cycle. A ritualized cycle where the strongest rule the strong who rule the weak. We breed and protect strength, we disregard the weak.” Hikiti nodded for Shirley to continue.
“Well… so Immutables… they don’ 'ave no special gifts. We need tor’or to escape our enemies. We need ka’or to fight them. We use the Leyas to defend, attack, and heal. We ain’t got no special weapons or talents for 'em ‘mutables. So dey lose. A lot. Lot lot. Ain’t no time in Brez to make ‘em stronger. They usually die in their firs’ fight. So years ago, many gangs stopped breedin’ ‘em. For dose dat don’ know, when Brezans make agreements with other tribes, we trade our weakest tribal to seal the deal. So the first ones traded are Immutables. When we realized that Unen tribes like 'em, we always made deals with dem first. Too weak to keep, get the best deals with dem. Some gangs can’t even bother, so they get left to die. Not worth finding tla for someone who useless, ya know?” Hikiti interjected again, concerned with where Shirley was going, “In other words, every gang member is needed to protect the gang. When a gang member is considered too weak, the gang tries to get rid of them and benefit the gang. Lesser gang members are always used for trade agreements. Some gangs, in the past, raised Immutables knowing they’d be traded away to rival gangs or the the Unenese. However, many gangs that can’t even gather enough water for their stronger members, so they can’t bother to raise those considered too weak to fend for themselves. Immutables aren’t the only ones… they’re just the ones always picked. Other gangs have a chance to take the weak … but nobody takes in an Immutable unless they know they have a trade with the Unenese. The weak, and considered weak, are always left to die in Brez. Just the way of things…”
Shirley smiles awkwardly, “Yes, Hikiti is right. Too many gangs in Brez to know what everyone does, but our gang, before Urog, used to trade ‘em to slavers. He was a jerk, an’ nobody shed a tear when the Great and Mighty Goblin King Urog took his place. Only one baby born to us since then… Urog made a deal with Unen pirates to get us tla. Bum deal, tho’, tla wa’n’t drinkable. I’s ok, tho. Better for pup, better for gang. But we see many pup abandoned … and we don’ do nothing, Immutable or not. Barely had enough for our own… kept our numbers small, ya know? On’y since Great Northern Army do we 'ave enough to feed our own…” Hikiti made ready to interject and complete Shirley’s thought, but Shirley glared at him, as if to say, don’t you dare. Hikiti nodded at the elder. He may be smarter, but she would pound him into a puddle of bone and flesh if she wanted to.
She continued, “and Urog wants change. He don’ like some Brezan ways. Ain’t no compassion in letting the weak die. No matter 'mutable or not. Earthers know what to do with 'mutables. Simonsburg’s got some. Now that we got Earther train, we be thinking to send 'em to Simonsburg to live… to learn among Earthers and other olgog. More chances for 'em therr. And when dey big enough, they they can join Unen tribe … not as trade. Their choice. But those be Urog’s grand ideas. Not many other gangs agree, but we can on’y speak for Urog.”
Hikiti smiled at Shirley. She slapped him on the shoulder and smiled, knocking him down to one knee in the process. He grimaced back, knowing it was not intended as a lesson, but good-heartedly. Shirley’s affection hurt sometimes…
She finished, “… And… well… tha’s all I got to say about 'dat!”
