Morning came rinsed and useful. Oakwatch blinked — . (ready) from its glass eye; the river, swollen but polite, curved past Glass Isle; the horn cairns along Founders' Way hummed when Jory tapped them—each a syllable in the language of ready. 🙂
— Morning Brief — Novaterra• Parley Window: white-flag trial at east arc (if they come)• Parley Box: shade, table, water; posted rules; flags set• Team: Elara, Aiden, Mara, Calder, Ras; Bryn's shadows in brush• Signals: two short = space/medical; one long = end; no bells• Cordon: arcs steady; sand lines refreshed• After-Sight: Ready (0/1)• Morale: Work-bright 🙂
They built the Parley Box out of sense: four white pennons, a shade tarp, one plain table, two equal-height stools, a bucket of water, and a line in the dirt no one would cross without two short first. Jory chalked the rules where pride could read:
White flags always.
No drums; horns for two short (space) / one long (end).
No masks while speaking; no trophies anywhere.
Soup is not a trick. 🍲
Cross only on two short; any charge ends parley for a season.
"Elbows down, tongues down," Elara said. "We keep white boring.""Water now, soup after," Mara added. "Fewer misunderstandings." 😑
They didn't wait long.
Twenty-two goblins approached low: Mokh, lacquer peeled and eyes like rules; Tavi, unmasked, rope token at his belt; two painted forearms (foremen by posture); no drums. They stopped at the line because the line was visible in their heads.
Elara raised white to waist—parley posture. Two short, soft. 🫡
"Name?" Aiden asked.
"Tavi," said the shaman, touching his chest."Mokh," said the older one, testing the shade, the water, and everyone's hands.
"Talk," Elara invited.
Tavi's voice was finger-drums. "He says: you starve the river. You cut nets."
"We cut weirs choking spawning," Mara answered. "We left ribbons: work, not luck. Our fish have names." 🍲🙂
"He says: you took Tavi; he wants his bones back."
Elara showed the loose wraps on Tavi's wrists. "Bones are his. He ate. He chose not to die." She set the wraps down like closing a book.
Aiden slid a rope token across. "Choice stands. He can go with you—rope means parley next time—or stay and teach us drum-math so we don't accidentally kill the wrong twenty."
Mokh tapped short-short-long, long on his drum box—three, left bank. Ras mouthed it; Jory smiled like a man meeting a dialect he already speaks. 😌
Terms settled themselves like stones:
Six days of no-raid.
No bead-charms; no new weirs.
At mid-sun, ten with mats may cut left bankgrass under white—no drums.
If any human lives within the palisade, bring one name.
"Six," Aiden said when Mokh haggled for five. "Because math should feel like mercy."
Elara lowered white a finger—agreement. One long closed the box.
Mara pushed the bucket and another bowl across. "Go in peace or go in hunger; I won't chase either." 🍲
Tavi drank. Mokh didn't, but he didn't sneer, either. At the line, Tavi said, "I will go. I will bring count of names. If they hit me for it, I will return and eat where rope weighs more than drum."
"You're welcome either way," Aiden said.
— Parley Log — East Arc• Parties: Novaterra (5) / Fort (22 incl. Mokh, Tavi)• Terms: 6-day no-raid; no beads/weirs; 10 foragers (no drums) at left bank (mid-sun); bring human name• Token: rope issued to Tavi; next meet Day 3 (mid-sun)
"Novaterra," Aiden told the cairns and the tower, "we nailed white to a table and made hunger use manners. We asked for a name where numbers hide. No heroics. Just work." 🙂
— Evening Snapshot — Chapter 36A• Parley complete; white rules posted• Cordon steady; sand lines fresh• Spawn Window: 6–11 days; sally appetite low• Morale: Cautious-proud 🙂