Demesne 9 - Naming the Community With Malice Aforethought (Patreon)

Finally, the day of the community meeting was upon them. The sky was overcast, but not actually raining, though it threatened to, and the ground was muddy from the rain the day before. Only the paths Lori had made to allow her to get to places were hard-packed and dry.

The dining hall was packed that morning, with only the children on seeling duty and some older siblings tasked to make sure they didn't fall into the water and drown not in attendance. Everyone seemed to be much cleaner. Lori was pretty sure she wasn't the only one who used to soap to properly do laundry. She'd been making do with a rock to slam clothes on and hot water all this time. Others wouldn't even have the latter.

Most were also wearing slightly oversized clothes. It appeared people hadn't yet recovered from the privations of the trip from Covehold. Lolilyuri hoped they didn't blame her for that. It had been the dead Whisperer's idea they travel so far to avoid being surrounded by so many other burgeoning settlements, which had been what had caused them to travel the many weeks away from Covehold Demesne. Most of that time had been spent going in between and around all the seemingly randomly placed demesnes, lest they be shook down for 'visitor's taxes'. In hindsight, the fact that Covehold only accepted old-continent beads explained why all the demesne settlements near it were trying to extort the money from them.

Benches were arrayed in rows facing the kitchen, where those washing up after breakfast and preparing lunch were listening to proceedings. A table had been set up in front of everyone, and it was piled with various flats rocks, chunks of wood, scraps and peels of bark, and several wooden boards, all full of writing penned with charcoal.

Rian stood behind this table, smiling at the murmuring crowd and clapping his hands for attention. Eventually, the crowd grew quiet. "All right," he said. "Hello everyone, and welcome to our demesne's first community meeting. It's a historic day for us all, and as soon as someone remembers what date it is we'll be able to commemorate it."

Lori pulled her hat low over her face to hide her eye-roll as people laughed. She was having vivid flashbacks to that woman from her childhood who worked at the Dungeon worshipper temple and ran the temple's children's daycare.

Rian continued. "So, while we've all been living and working together, I thought we'd do some introductions, in case not everyone knows each other yet. I'm Rian, your temporary lord, as I'll be quitting soon, possibly later today–" there was another round of chuckles at that. Apparently no one believed it any more than Lori did. Rian simply looked befuddled, as if he'd missed something. "– um, and this is our Dungeon Binder, Whisperer Lori. Oh, wait, I suppose that's formally Binder Lori now." Lori nodded in approval at the acknowledgement of the formal term. "Well, she'll always be Whisperer Lori in our hearts, I'm sure!" The next laugh was merely polite.

Rian continued making more introductions. On the theoretical level, Lori understood what he was doing, though she wasn't sure if he did. Acknowledging other people gave them public recognition, pride and perceived value in the community, as well as gave them the illusion of a say in matters. She understood that. She'd read a book about it once, after all, before she'd violently disagreed with it. Why did people need to feel acknowledge and appreciated to do needful work? She did needful work all the time, and she didn't need acknowledgement and appreciation, only the sense of holding powers of life and death over the people around her.

Still, she allowed it. It cost her nothing but time after all, and it wasn't like there was a library nearby she could be reading at for better use of her time. So instead she balanced a thin stone tablet on her knees, actively structurally reinforced with earthwisps to keep it from breaking under its own weight, and sketched out the current layout of the settlement on its surface, using her finger to direct the wisps to make marks on the stone.

"– thank the woodcutting teams for all the work they've done–" Rian was saying.

Drawn like this, their settlement was a haphazard affair. The kitchen had originally been set up surrounded by tents, the water wagons that had been for cleaning Iridescence from people during overland the journey, the individual carts and family wagons the various men had taken turns pulling, and the various and sundry tents people had been sleeping in while the place for the core was being dug. Well, the tents were gone now, since most people had moved to the shelters she'd set up. She'd started putting up unroofed houses in their place, arranged along a sort of 'main street' that led from the now dining hall to her cave, because she wanted a clear path to food. There were the beginnings of side streets, as she planned to build outward from the main, get some proper urban planning down before some idiots started their own building with no regard for proper organization.

The shelters and baths were off to the side, and she wondered if she had the power to turn the structures the 1/8th circle or so it would take to make them align properly with the grid she was making…

"– doctors Ganan and Samoth for their tireless work in taking care of our sick and injured community members," Rian was still droning on.

The river was a vague, uncertain line that she had to redraw a few times because it seemed not to proper scale. Idly, she sketched out planned docks and perhaps a dike or something. She had a feeling they were still a bit too close to the river. What if it flooded, or inundated or whatever it was rivers did? And they'd still need someplace more convenient than the shore for seeling. Maybe a dock so they could use boats and nets. Slightly downriver, she sketched out places for a sawmill, a miller and a watchtower to let them keep an eye on the opposite shore…

"– and last but definitely not least– actually, they're pretty much the greatest ever– let's give a warm hand of applause for our kitchen volunteers, who've been making miracles keeping us fed with delicious food all these weeks," Rian said, and Lori looked up at the applause, which she belatedly joined. Well, she agreed with the sentiment. They were a meticulous lot, feeding every new possible foodstuff to a seel to see if it was poisonous or harmful before trying it themselves first. The fact the only influx of upset stomachs had come when they'd started having beast meat be a part of the community's regular diet was a testament to the care that had been put in.

The men and women in the kitchen probably waved. Lori didn't bother looking. Instead, she waited for Rian to get to the point.

"All right, with that out of the way, we can start," he said, settling onto his chair next to Lori and looking down at the table top, where he'd written things using a charred twig. "First order of business, our demesne, our new home sweet home, needs a name."

"It already has a name," Lori interjected next to him with an annoyed glare. Really, they'd agreed on this.

"Look, we can't call it 'Lori's'," Rian said, which was patently absurd.

"It's a perfectly serviceable and accurate name," Lori said, speaking only the absolute truth.

"It makes you sounds like an egomaniac," Rian said. "We have to put it to a vote."

"That's practically naming it by committee," Lori said. "And everyone knows demesnes named by a committee have the most boring names ever. You get places like 'The People's Free Democratic Councilar Demesne State'."

"She has a point," some sycophantic but intelligent person in the audience said.

"Let's call it 'Seel River'!" a young-sounding voice called unabashedly from the back. It was of course, ignored, as no one ever cared what children thought. Lori found it pettily satisfying to finally be on this side of the matter.

"One suggestion for 'Seel River'," Rian said, pointing at the crowd and seemingly making a note. Lori stared at him at this base treachery to all of adulthood. "Any other names?"

That opened the water break, and soon people were throwing names at Rian with reckless abandon, ignoring that the demesne already had a perfectly good and serviceable and perfect name. In addition to 'Seel River', there was also the usual generic garbage like 'Freedom', 'Opportunity', 'Fresh Start', 'New Beginnings', 'Riverside', 'Frontier's Edge', 'World's End' and such by people who thought they were being poetic and significant instead of pretentious and shallow. She didn't really pay attention, they were all pointlessly pretentious and not as good as 'Lori's', anyway. 'Lori's' was clearly the superior, more accurate name. Certainly much better than 'Wet Socks'. What idiot had thought anyone would want to live there?

Someone even argued that the settlement shouldn’t have a name, as names were a symbol of the Binderarchy which they were all leaving behind, and this would be a new world without the tyranny of binders, who were the cause of all evils, allowing people to truly be equal and build a paradise unlike anything ever seen before.

Fortunately, the people around that particular idiot were smarter than him and one of his burly neighbors shut him up by some sort of strange hold around his neck that eventually caused him to fall unconscious.

"When he wakes, someone inform him that if he oh-so-subtly starts espousing my murder again, he's spending two nights in the Iridescence," Lori said coolly. "I'll drag him out there myself."

"He didn't mean anything by it, your Bindership," someone said.

"He clearly did, otherwise he wouldn't have said it," Lori said. "This is his only warning. See that he gets it, will you."

Rainbows. Now she'll have to remember that idiot's name and face, just to be sure he never got behind her.

"I wouldn't go that far," Rian said placatingly. "But it is pretty rude for him to say all that after all the hard work Binder Lori has been putting in so that we'd all have someplace warm to sleep and plenty of cured wood to start building with. All we've got is each other, everyone."

There was a moment's pause as 'Each Other' was suggested as a name.

With that came the 'trying to be punny' names, like 'No One's Here', 'It's One Of Ours', 'No Solicitors', 'Hole In The Water', 'Solicitors Will Be Drowned', 'Not Dead Yet', 'Oh Good, We Can Stop', 'Vacancy', 'Last Chance To Stop' and other hilarities, all predicated on the notion of someone else someday encountering them and reading the demesne's name on its own from some sort of humorous sign. Lori had gone back to drawing on her stone tablet to keep from asphyxiating fools. Rian needed to start writing the names on the floor, as he'd run out of space on the table.

"Um, I think that's enough names," Rian said, sounding mildly frantic as Lori remembered to draw in the current woodworking areas and delineate them into a proper sawpit. She considered the river, wondering if they should prepare facilities for a sawmill… "Why don't we vote on–"

"No," Lori said, not looking up from her tablet as her voice carried. The crowd stilled.

"What?" Rian said, surprised.

"They're not voting to choose a name," Lori said. "You are. Pick a name, Rian."

"Wait, it's not fair that I pick the name," Rian said. "Everyone should have a say–"

"They did. They wasted it on nonsense like 'Wet Socks', 'No One's Here' and ranting about the Binderarchy," Lori said. There was some embarrassed shuffling. "All voting does is make it so no one's to blame for everyone's stupidity. So, you pick a name. That way, we can all blame you for it being stupid."

Rian frowned. "I don't–"

"Yeah, Lord Rian can pick!"

"Pick one, Lord Rian!"

"Lord Rian, pick 'World's End'!"

Lori's smile had a touch of malice. Change the name of Lori's Demesne, would he? "All in favor of having Rian pick?" she said loftily. "Raise your hand."

She didn't raise her hand, but enough people did that it was easy to tell it was more than half.

"It has been voted upon, as you wanted," Lori said. "Pick a name, Rian."

For some reason, people started to chant. "Pick a name! Pick a name! Pick a name!"

She supposed people have gotten really bored over having nothing to do for entertainment besides, abortively, each other.

"Um, well, then…" Rian said, looking flustered for the first time Lori had ever seen him. Ohoho! She tucked away this knowledge for future use. Rian didn't handle pressure from mobs well. He looked at the list on the floor in panic, and Lori could also see the moment when he decided they were all terrible names and he'd really been hoping for a vote to defray responsibility. She saw him close his eyes, point randomly, and look. "Wet Socks?"

"No," Lori said.

There was a murmur of non-affirmation from the crowd.

"Okay, strike that then…" he said. Close eyes, point. "Last Chance To Stop?"

The following murmur wasn't as opposed, but certainly wasn't affirmatory.

"Try again," Lori said.

"Look, can't we just vote on it, if everyone is–"

"We did vote, this is what we voted for," Lori said. "Now, pick a name."

Once more the chant rose. "Pick a name! Pick a name! Pick a name!"

Sighing, Rian closed his eyes, spun around– to laughter and cheers– and pointed down at the list. He frowned. "Lorian?"

Lori blinked, leaning forward to try and see what he was pointing at.

"Um, any objections to that name?" Rian said, as Lori finally got up to look at the list on the floor. It… did sort of look like that?

There was a more uncertain but ultimately apathetic murmur from the crowd.

"All right then…" Rian said, still sounding uncertain. "I guess our demesne is called Lorian now."

More murmurs, with less uncertainty and more apathy. It sounded like a shrug.

Rian looked at the name once more, then shrugged. "All right then. Let's continue the first Lorian community meeting."

Lolilyuri kept frowning at the name, but reluctantly sat herself again. It didn't matter. This place would always be 'Lori's Demesne' in her heart!

"Well then," Rian said, clearing his throat. "With that out of the way, let's discuss the material shortages… "