The East PacificBoard

"The Grand Ataman has decreed that you are to live with us and learn our customs?" "That is correct, my Lord." The head of clan Pómāt looks Tàmín up and down quizzically. He wears all the traditional garb of a priest of Ademar, from the elaborate riding boots to the emblem of the Temple on his cloak shoulders. Only one thing distinguishes Tàmín from the priests which come to give sermons and conduct ceremonies on festival days: a gold-colored silken sash around his waist, the crest of the Grand Ataman hanging at one hip.

The Pómāt Ataman, satisfied with this young priest, gestures to the pair of soldiers at his flanks. Each wears a sabre, the symbol of the Grand Ataman's army, and a revolver, as is traditional for horse troopers, but the sabre hilt is decorated far more elaborately than is usual, their uniforms are devoid of any regimental insignia, and the handguns at their hips are larger than is usual. "And the guards?"

"Sent to ensure my safety on the journey, my Lord. I understand they're to return to Võlatsk sometime in the next week." This, of course, isn't technically true, but what the good Ataman doesn't know can't hurt him. The truth of it is that Tàmín has been sent to live with the Pómāt clan in preparation for the vast changes in store to the political structure of Pakitsk, one of many minor priests of Ademar sent out for this reason. His job will, eventually, be the organization and recording of the clan's tribute to the Grand Ataman's court in Võlatsk, as well as to ensure orthodoxy in Ademar's worship; the soldiers are there to ensure that nobody attempts to interfere with that, especially after the planned changes to the tribute schedule.
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Piled up books, scrolls, and papers surround the High Pātor as he works ceaselessly at his desk. The majority of them are in Pakatska, but several are in Delphinden, with accompanying translations by priests who were able to get lessons from the travelling scholar before his departure for the southern clans. Every so often he opens one, takes a glance at some half-comprehensible excerpt within, and closes it again to return to his writing.

A knock at his door disturbs the Pātor from his work. "Enter." An older man in scribe's clothing enters, quietly closing the door and making his way to his superior's side. Without looking up, the High Pātor begins to speak. "Thank you, Kóbāl. I asked you to join me so that your knowledge may be put to use. You've spent much time reading the works on ruling from over the seas, yes?" "That is correct, brother."

"Very good. I don't have to tell you that the Grand Ataman's plans are very large changes indeed for the way we operate, and for that reason we must learn to borrow what we can from those whose system we wish to resemble. Pull up a chair, brother, and let us to work."