NOVEL FROG Chapter 687 – Political Problems
“Some problems, a society had to handle and solve on their own, especially when the root of the problem stemmed in their own politics. This most commonly took place when there were revolutionary changes to be made. All too often traditions were institutionalized into part of a nation’s identity, and changes often ran afoul of such old regulations.
When that happened, clashes were typically unavoidable.” - From a paper by Leigh Wainwrought, Sociology scholar at the Levain Institute of Higher Learning.
“Bein’ honest, lass, this ain’t even the first time we be having this sorta mess,” said Head Constable Ruben as he nursed his mug of dark ale alongside Aideen. Aideen had engaged him in further conversation and asked about the situation in the Kingdom Down Under as it would be relevant if she carried on with her trip. “We had much of the same back in my grandpa’s grandpa’s days, still remember the stories grandpa used to tell me when me be a wee lad.”
“It’s even the same issue, sort of. Back then the king, that’d be the current king’s grandpa’s great-granduncle, decided to let non-dwarves live on the topside of our territory, those villages and towns you no doubt saw on your way in,” explained the middle-aged Head Constable, somewhat drunken. “We had much of the same ruckus we had today, people not wanting to let non-dwarves in our land and whatnot. More violent, even. Quite a bit of blood was shed back then, supposedly.”
“How do you feel about that in the present, though?” asked Aideen when there was a convenient pause in the Head Constable’s narrative.
“Honestly? Them be honest folk who lived up on topside. Hardworking, simple lads and lasses, honest to a fault and diligent. Couldn’t really ask for better neighbors,” said Ruben with a shake of his head. The inhabitants of the Kingdom Down Under’s topside regions, other than a few dwarves who either volunteered or wanted to live topside, were mostly therian refugees who had been driven away from their original homelands in the past after a conflict. Most of them matched the Head Constable’s decision perfectly, being honest, hardworking folk with few complaints.
It was likely no coincidence that the vast majority of those therians were from meeker, herbivorous tribes Aideen scarcely saw back in Elmaiya or even in Boroes, the therian land adjacent to the Clangeddin Empire further north. Both of those regions were dominated more by carnivorous and omnivorous breeds, and the herbivorous breeds that lived there tended to be the more assertive ones or were under the protection of another tribe as vassals.
Those who were unable to fit in were likely the ancestors of the therians that lived in the Kingdom Down Under’s aboveground territories nowadays. The timing matched as she recalled reading about a great tribal war that saw many therian tribes driven away from Elmaiya around a few decades before the time Ruben mentioned.
The losers of that war likely ran to Alcidea, where those who were more strong-willed and foolhardy founded Boroes, whereas those who were of a meeker disposition kept floating around as refugees, at least until the Kingdom Down Under offered them a refuge.
“So you think this current situation would resolve itself as well?” asked Aideen once more.
“Give it a few centuries and it’ll resolve itself, Lass. All it takes is for people to get used to the new setup and its benefits. As it is, allowing foreigner non-dwarves into our underground pissed off a lot of the old grognards, sure, but the money that flowed in from the trade that allowed sure shut most of them up in a real jiffy,” said the Head Constable with a guffaw.
“At this point only the real stubborn old dunderheads like ol’ Snorri and his ilk are still making noise about it. Even then most of them stopped at making noise. Snorri and a few others are prolly the only ones with enough balls to actually get people to do something on their behalf,” he continued. “Guess his old muddled noggin’s too full of silly thoughts to realize that he’s setting himself up to get his beard ripped clean off.”
“Can see that happening. Seen it happen before, even, though elsewhere and for different reasons,” noted Aideen with a nod. Old conservatives unable to alter their mindset despite the betterment it would have brought everyone was not something unusual and happened to people from all races. Since an “old” dwarf would be at least four to five centuries old, their mindset must have solidified even further compared to other races’ old people.
“You get what ah mean, then. Sure, the stubborn old coots would pass down their twisted point of view to their youngsters, but those youngsters would also have more time to get used to how things have changed and the good stuff those changes brought,” said the Head Constable. “Ain’t seeing nobody complain about the coins trade with non-dwarves like you brought. Way ah see it, if you take their coin, you ain’t got the right to complain about who it’s from!”
“Wise words,” admitted Aideen with a nod. The night had grown late and people were starting to get tipsy or worse around them, which was likely no unusual sight amongst the dwarves. The tavern’s proprietor even lugged around some who already drank themselves to sleep and tossed them into another room with rudimentary beddings on the floor with the help of some still-sober patrons.
In a way, it was a bit like a microcosm of the societal issues the dwarves faced. The stubborn people would be like the few who complain about alcohol that was not made in the “right and proper” way despite liking it all the same, just like how people complained about others gaining profits from trade with foreigners despite loving the coin all the same.
By the end, when everyone had drunken enough to fall down drunk, those issues would be left far behind them.
