Re: Calendars

From: Nick Brooke (
Date: Wed 29 Oct 1997 - 10:49:01 EET

Frederic writes:

> I suppose the Malkioni doesn't use the Theyalan calendar and may =

> have a system based upon the Saints of the various Sects. Do they
> count years "After Hrestol's Ascension" instead of Solara Tempus?
> Do the Rokari use a more archaic, Brithini, calendar? =

Unfortunately, given the widespread nature of the Theyalan calendar,
it's very likely to be that used by the God Learners. Of course, the
modern Malkioni would celebrate Saints' Days instead of all those
pagan Holy Days -- and there may well be some interesting correspon-
dences there! Also, the seventh day of the week is surely understood
to be God's Day (not Gods-day): "There is only One God, and He is the
Invisible God, and Malkion is his Prophet."

I've always found it a wonderful "coincidence" that the origins of
the Western Church (Hrestol's vision of the Great Prophet Malkion)
coincide with the presumably God-Learner-determined date on which
light returned to the world after a Great Darkness...

Do the Brithini have a calendar? Who knows? If it wasn't invented
before Time, what are the odds of them adapting to use it now? We
have Zzabur's turning the Red Sands of Time (or whatever)... but
the Brithini should be among the least God-Learnt peoples in the
world, unlikely to have fallen for such innovations.

Jane asks:

> Anyone know what the customs are for mournng in Gloranthan cultures, =

> Sartarite in particular? =

Lots of keening, I'm sure. Running around and shouting is very much
the Sartarite idiom. So is heavy drinking at the Wake, boastfully
remembering the great times you had with the dear departed. Think of
caricature Scots or Irish funerals -- forget the rune-carved logs,
where's the whisky? Hold a big funeral feast (killing the fatted calf)
and get ratted.

Lay the body out on display, dressed in his best. Gather his kin and
comrades around. Get everyone to tell the story of his life -- explain
how he got his scars, won his wife, raised his children. Vow to do
horrible things to whoever killed him (if necessary). Drink to excess.
Start fights and feuds, or maybe patch them up in a fit of maudlin
drunkenness. Fall asleep under the funeral byre.

Next day, wake up with a stinking hangover and a miserable mood.
Take the body up to the top of the hill and torch the pyre. Listen to
the Storm Voice reciting interminable Orlanthi Poetry in Stormtongue
as the smoke swirls up to the clouds. Look for omens (if you can be
bothered). Then head back down to the chieftain's hall and start
haggling over the inheritance with the Lawspeaker, scheming for any
clan ring positions the dead man held, or chatting up his wife and



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