Part V: Political Intrigues
Chapter 6: The Zarz Plague
Timeline: AO 295
With his chief advisors warning him that an imminent climate disaster was the inevitable result of the overpopulation of his people within the mountains, Kon-Herr Drokka Baldur naively took the bait, “This is dire news indeed.”
“Father, if you believe Monty and Thork then it sounds like a lot of angry citizens may not like you very soon.” Hecla laughed sarcastically at the grim picture the merchants painted for Baldur. She didn’t believe their fear mongering and suspected a scam.
Yet Baldur waved a hand at his daughter and addressed Monty. “What’s your solution, my old friend?”
Before the Coinmaster could speak, Ly’Mala Boma jumped up…
“We can solve our illustrious climate narrative with one solution – unburden ourselves of the burdens of our self-consuming confinement. Just–”
“Sit down.” Lord Aric Rukstinz grumbled – immediately silencing the colorfully dressed Ly’Mala who bit her lip and frowned as she took her seat again.
At that, Monty answered the king. “If you’ll pardon my language, sire, we’ve got a lot of useless eaters.” Fat Coinmater then ran a fleshy palm down the front of his shirt and over his rotund belly – never once realizing the irony of his statement.
“And how might a king reduce the count of his er-…useless eaters?”
“There are ways.” Monty smiled, looking at Thork.
“Fear not, oh great Kon-Herr.” The merchant leader of the Gaatz clan proclaimed. “Far be it from Monty and I to only bring up a problem and not have a solution ready. As it turns out we have a pair of brilliant minds in our guild – there’s a dabbler in herbs by the name of Duktyr Fowczi and another fellow my family – Fukbyl is his name. You’ll remember him, sire, he’s the fellow who came up with the idea for the personal gates for the family caves.”
“Let every home define its space.” Hecla quoted the little jingle that the Gaatz clan salesmen called out at the bazaars.
“Cheaply made trash if you ask me.” Hacktor dismissed the idea.
“Cheaply made and designed not to last on purpose.” Monty smiled. “They work for a while and the peasants love them. When they fall apart they just buy another. It’s a brilliant strategy for repeat business. And the Gaatz clan have been exporting them to the outside world for nearly a decade now. It just goes to sh–”
“But what does all this have to do with our population problem?” The king was exasperated.
Thork explained. “With all due respect to Lord Aric, my clan has been a pillar of society for our people and like many of those around this table, our family has had it’s share of famous Drokka. Fukbyl is no exception – he is a brilliant mind and in the last decade he’s gotten himself involved in a number of other projects. One of them is called Agenda 330. That project is far reaching and is worth a discussion for another time but for now let me just say that a part of this plan may us help reduce the population and protect our mountain climate. It’s a win-win for all.”
“Or at least for the rich.” Hecla smirked.
This time Baldur agreed with his daughter, “I’ve never been a fan of plans that are so complex they can’t be explained in a few words.”
“Then why not allow these men to explain their plan?” Monty offered. “I’ve asked Fukbyl and Duktyr to join us today. They’re waiting in the halls outside.”
“You’ve invited guests to the council without the Kon-Herr’s blessing?” General Ortwin was surprised, yet when he glanced at Lord Aric and saw the latter was not surprised, old Ortwin realized the fix was in.
Baldur also played it cool as he thought, Let’s see where Monty’s going with this. My so-called friend may well not like where he ends up. “I’ll allow it. This time.”
At the word from the king, two newcomers entered the room. Baldur recognized Fukbyl Gaatz from previous encounters at court…
The middle-aged man had a sallow face that showed all the signs of self-absorbed elitism. Fukbyl’s eyes, constantly darting with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, were the windows to a soul that thrived on manipulation and exploitation. To those unaware of his true nature, he presented a facade of geniality, but the king knew that those who crossed him found a ruthless merchant lurking beneath the surface. The expensive clothing Fukbyl wore did little to cover the overt weakness of an unfit body comprised of thin limbs that struggled to support a shockingly rotund belly.
Monty may be fat over all over, but this fellow looks more like a Drokkina with child, the king pursed his lips at Fukbyl’s unhealthy appearance.
As for the second man – Duktyr Fowczi – Baldur had never seen him before, but the sight of him was also off-putting. Weasel? Rat? The Kon-Herr couldn’t decide which was more fitting for the miniature fellow with his shifty eyes and twitchy movements, exuded an air of nervous energy that masked a dark curiosity. The king was surprised to see that the mild-mannered scribe Grak was also seemingly put off by this newcomer. There’s a mystery here, Baldur thought, and one I’d like to-
“Welcome, friends.” Monty’s words interrupted the king’s thoughts. “My lord, you’ve asked for a solution to the population problem. These men have it. As it turns out, Master Gaatz has a project in which he’s financed Guildman Fowczi to work on a rather secret initiative in the village of Fluhan.”
“Where’s Fluhan?” Hacktor wondered.
“It’s a small hamlet in the far eastern regions, down by Duzarez,” Monty waved a hand for silence. “But don’t worry about that, let these men explain the good part – tell them about the herb.”
“It’s a little plant called Quvid.” Fukbyl advised. “My friend Guildman Fowczi ah, discovered it and…well, the interesting thing is that it appears to make people…get sick. This is an amazing disc-”
“Why would anyone take an herb that would make them ill?” Hacktor scoffed.
The king mused, “I seem to that a killer ‘shroom that was discovered down south a couple decades ago that had a similar name. The scribes say it had a hand in our prior plagues – although that was never proven. In any case, a lot of people died from eating that fungus. Are the old ‘shrooms and this new herb somehow related?”
“That’s an interesting qu–” Fukbyl began to reply.
Yet Hacktor interrupted the wealthy merchant, “This is your grand plan to control the population – kill them? Who’s going to be stupid enough to eat a killer ‘shroom?”
“What you don’t unders-” the rich man with the big belly tried again.
Yet Hecla laughed, quipping off her brother’s question. “The less people there are to consume, the more Monty, Thork, and their rich friends can stockpile resources…for the people’s benefit, of course. And probably using the people’s money too!”
Monty could see his plan was faltering. “My lord, you are correct that the mushroom was deadly. It was called Qzar. That deadly ‘shroom and the Guildman’s Quvid herb are related, and there is a relationship with the plague too. But let’s allow them to explain before we jump to hasty conclusions.”
“That would be wise.” Aric sighed from his chair.
With a nod from Baldur, a flustered Fukbyl continued. “My lord is correct about the Qzar mushroom. People died in the past, and we now believe it was responsible for the old plagues. But the Guildman and I believe we can prevent that going forward. What you may not know is Guidman Fowczi has been studying the fungus in order to…better understand certain possibilities it might offer. The Quvid herb is a byproduct of Duktyr’s amazing research.”
“But you just said the herb also makes people sick!” Hacktor gasped. “It sounds to me like you and the Guildman are more intent on killing our people than helping them. Nobody is going to want this herb, you fools. And Father, why are we even wasting time on this?”
Watching his masculine son’s gruff handling of the elite conspirator, Baldur expected the spineless Fukbyl to wither before the threatening words of Hacktor, yet the Kon-Herr was surprised to see wealthy man stand his ground – of course a nod of support from Lord Aric in his direction surely helped.
“What if the people believed that Quvid herb would protect them from the killer Qzar mushrooms and an outbreak of the dreaded Zarz plague?” Fukbyl’s silky voice offered.
Monty was quick to add. “If people willingly ate the herb and something happened to them, it wouldn’t necessarily be anyone else’s fault, right?”
Hecla laughed at the absurdity of it all, Balder was at a loss for words, yet Hacktor was still incredulous.
“But why would people ever want to eat the herb, you fool?” The prince asked. “The killer ‘shrooms were wiped out twenty plus years ago and we haven’t seen a Zarz outbreak in decades. There’s no risk to anyone anymore. None of this makes no sense.”
“Perhaps there are things you as yet unknown to you.” Lord Aric hissed at Hacktor – for the first time showing a hint of losing his cool. “Why not take a moment to listen, young prince.”
The king watched nervously as his son dared to glare at his powerful Rukstinz rival, but then relaxed when Hacktor quickly thought better of it – at least for now.
Fukbyl smiled condescendingly at Hacktor. “I agree with you, my prince. Or I would agree with you, if what you said was true. It seems that Guildman Fowczi and some of his underlings managed to save a few of the dangerous mushrooms before they were all destroyed. He’s kept them under lock and key down in Fluhan. Part of my 330 Agenda involves preparing the kingdom’s defenses against future outbreaks of disease.” Here, the rich Gaatz lord straightened his shoulders and put on his best oratory voice as he continued. “My lords, we’ve all read about the dreaded Zarz Pox of 125 in The Kroniklz and the similar plagues that occurred in 150, 195, and 213. Duktry Fowczi’s research now proves they were all started by the Qzar ‘shroom. Nobody wants to see a repeat of those disasters, but alas, what can we do?”
[The dreaded Zarz plagues, feared and reviled by the Drokka, were cataclysmic events that struck their society with devastating force. Named after the evil god Zar (which is the Drokka’s name for Gwar], these outbreaks began with spoiled crops of Qzar ‘shrooms and were characterized by horrific symptoms—boils, fever, and eventual death—leaving entire communities within the mountains decimated. The plagues of the years 125, 150, 195, and 213 were particularly brutal, each wave more destructive than the last. They disrupted the social order, caused widespread panic, and led to the establishment of harsh quarantines and superstitious rituals. The memory of these plagues lingered in the collective consciousness of the Drokka, fueling a persistent fear of disease and a desperate desire for effective protection against future outbreaks].
Here Malchior Der Naves, the priest of The Naves, rose with a gravitas that commanded the room’s attention. “My lord, let us not forget the sacred role our faith has played during times of great peril,” he began, his voice resonating with a calming authority.
“During the dreaded Zarz plagues, it was the unwavering faith of our people and their sacrifices to the gods that saw us through the darkest days. The temples overflowed with offerings, and the priests, guided by divine wisdom, performed the ancient rites to appease the gods and protect our people. It was not just our faith but our collective will to sacrifice for the greater good that kept the plagues at bay.”
The cleric paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. “The fear of the plagues was so overwhelming that families willingly parted with their hard-earned wealth, believing it was the only way to secure the gods’ favor and their own survival. This profound belief in the divine order united our people and reinforced the essential role of our sacred institutions. Let us remember, in these times of uncertainty, the power of faith and sacrifice. Perhaps, in addressing this new crisis, we should look to the wisdom of our ancestors and consider what sacrifices might be necessary to ensure our survival once more.”
“Well said, my friend.” Fukbyl agreed. “We’ve always been at the mercy of the evil god Zar when it came to plagues. But I believe we have the means to protect Kalypzo and ourselves going forward. Yes, I believe this to be true, but I want to prove it to you too. Yet alas, we’ll never know if our defenses are good enough unless we test them. To do this, the Guildman has proposed a controlled test.”
“Event 201.” The tiny man named Duktry Fowzci spoke for the first time, his whiny voice confirming Baldur’s initial impression of weasel. Even from his first words it became clear that this “scholar had a passion bordered on obsession – one that likely led him down paths that others feared to tread and his next words confirmed the king’s fear as the herbalist said, “With it we can change the world.”
Lord Aric couldn’t suppress a gleeful laugh at the guildman’s boast – for the rich financier relished the vision of the mass casualty event that would surely allow his family endless…opportunities – sending a chill down the spine of the king…
The Apocrypha of Azazel 