The Lonely Mountain

[Abarai Loki]

“Greeting ceremony,” Loki repeated with interest.

In pursuit, he hobbled on mismatching feet, clunking every other step. The cobbles were cold upon his bare toes. From behind, there was a loud huff. He turned to find his huoyen looming imperiously over him, its heavy-lidded eyes regarded him with cool distaste down the length of its long neck. Defeated, Loki mounted the beast, which farted itself forward at a leisurely pace.

Ahead, the crowd moved as one, remaining close to the Gossam King as the Shang family led the way down a steep winding path. All but one. Over the murmur of the crowd, a little voice sprang, again and again, “Laokee! Laokee!”

From the throng appeared a small hand, waving frantically. Loki spurred the huoyen into flatulent advance, gently parting the crowd until he saw Fan’s anxious face light up. He leaned and swept up the Gossam youngling to add to his mount’s burden. Fan was allowed to take the reins, which he used to guide them effortlessly back towards his family.

“I lost mmai suweet rrroll,” he said, and clicked instructions to the obedient huoyen.

“Perhaps your… brother will provide you with another one,” Loki replied with uncertainty; clothing aside, Gossam genders were difficult to distinguish. He could make out Tell Cho’s ornate headpiece as they started to zero in on it, and in his absence, Loki directed his question instead to his fellow passenger, “Fan Shang, can you tell me about the greeting ceremony?”

[Tell Cho]

"Uong ja bà eez a fesstiball, uwellcomminng the newesst arribals to these meesty mountains," Fan answered brightly. "All the newcommerrss gatherr inn a pllaza, uwhere the villlage gureets themm forrmallly! Uwee learrnn theirr nnames, annd whoo they arre, annd wherre theirr sstannds arre."

The Shang Family and Cho were caught up in the flow of Gossam making their way back to the large square where Cho had done his show for the townspeople; standing in it were fifteen Gossam, loosely gathered in no real organized manner. As the town filled the winding avenues and smaller squares nearby, Cho stepped forward only slightly from the mass of people.

Fan whispered, "The newesst peoplle arre givenn stannds orr mmake themm, if they have timme. Durrinng the fesstiball, they show uwhat theirr sskillls arre. Fatherr and mmotherr showed they could mmake llots of differrennt foods. Buillderrs mmake modells, annd merrchannts show all the differrennt thinngs they cann trade forr. Eet is funn! I saw a toy mmakerr's sstannd, uwith mmovinng toys like magic, you mmusst ssee it! Llittlle huoyen that wallk annd call out onn theirr ownn! Sstarrshipss that hoverred annd fllew!"

At the last, Fan threw his arms into the air and nearly slid off the huoyen.

In the plaza itself, the newcomers to the village stepped forward and called out their name to those assembled. Cho and the townspeople called the names back, followed by throaty trills of cheering.

[Abarai Loki]

For the most part, the chirruping chittering chatter was lost on Loki, who watched with interest as the newcomers set about making introductions and giving demonstrations of their various skills. Fan, when he wasn’t making soft cooing sounds of wonderment, indulged him with an occasional translation. It seemed that most of the Gossam had a similar story: their skills came not from a place of personal endeavour, but were gained via osmosis from their previous masters. There were some exceptions, however, such as the old beer-brewer, whose enthusiasm for his product was more intoxicating than the beer itself. He was large for a Gossam, and had a round, expressive, wrinkled face that always seemed to be smiling. His deep guttural harmonics resonated well with the crowd, who responded to his call in droves, congregating around each of his flowing barrels.

Beside the brewer, a masseuse demonstrated her skills on a happy volunteer. Her assistants used branches of fern leaves to gently beat his back, while she glided, applying oils and kneading his rolls of loose skin with polite care. There was a carpenter who carved elaborate patterns into the backs of chairs, and an electrician who made lamps that activated and deactivated with a simple hand clap. An animal breeder boasted prize huoyen, to which his own huoyen gave what sounded like a derisive snort. The youngest of the new arrivals was a handsomely garbed musician, who plucked a peculiar S-shaped string instrument that was fashioned to look like a serpent; he sang, according to Fan, tales of great derring-do. And it seemed Fan was not the only one taken with the young talent, for he was swarmed by a veritable bevy of trilling ladies.

But it was the toy-maker whose presentation left the Gossam youngling practically breathless with excitement, so much so that when he relayed to Loki the directions to his stall, he sounded like a tiny asthmatic. His enthusiasm was infectious, and even Loki had to admit there was something cool about being able to turn on a light with a clap of one’s hands - though he’d never admit it, of course. With some apprehension, he fumbled at the pitiful pouch of credits in his pocket.

“Do your people trade in credits, Fan? Or will goods and services suffice?”

[Tell Cho]

"We trade in credits with the Alliance and sometimes the Jedi," Cho answered for the little one. "Amongst ourselves, however, trade is done in goods and services. Quite often, it is food, but mostly it is a service that be accomplished. We do not have much to offer those outside this settlement at the moment. Perhaps we will find ourselves mining these mountains for resources to sell to the Alliance."

The musician bowed and stepped away from Cho, having been asked intently for other skills and trades in which he was knowledgeable. Art and beauty were appreciated amongst the Gossam of Miwù Shanmà, but such changeable things were not as important as survival and stability at the moment. Cho was satisfied with the answer of machinery repair, which had been said reluctantly. He was not eager to go back into the same trade he had learned in slavery.

Fan's eyes widened.

"But," the little one whistled a bit anxiously. "Yourr annklle! Is it not hurrt?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I am a fast healer," Loki said, with a hint of pride.

Typically, he could heal a simple injury like a sprained ankle within minutes, but his focus had been somewhat lacking of late. It had been an embarrassment to hobble into the Gossam settlement as he had, and consequently, he found himself in their debt. He would not embarrass himself further by failing to make good on his repayments. Even without his Jedi powers, he prided himself on having a battle-ready body: yes, he would be fit in the morning, and he would make good on his word.

With a tap of his heels, he sent the huoyen into a trot, and brought himself before the Gossam leader for inspection like the others.

"Tell Cho, your people have shown me great hospitality. Tomorrow, you will find me fit and able to contribute in whatever way you deem proper. I have a strong back and a considerable arm - make use of them."

[Tell Cho]

"If the concept of a gift freely given is so foreign to you," Cho answered, "perhaps I will. I am teaching self defence practices tomorrow. I will require an aide. But tonight you are healing. Go, and make merry with the Shang family. I will come for you in the morning."

He walked off, his cane clacking on the stone path, and a gleam in his black eyes.

"Sleep well, Jedi Loki!" he called, with perhaps a bit too much mirth in his voice.