What Makes the Redman Red?

With the war come and gone and ports signed over to the Raikh as part of the peace, there was now a permanent presence in the far south. Like fools, the men had sailed for Niujis Respijt with dreams of wealth and bringing culture to the barbarians, despite their dishonourable ways; bringing ships loaded down with such wonderful things as guns, cloths, electric toaster irons, and the latest and greatest in gas powered stove designs.

Upon reaching Niujis Respijt though, they were thrust into the cold waters of reality. The locals were utterly barbaric and backwards in their thinking, with only their criminal elements being interested in good trade. They followed the teachings of Karl Barx, a now infamous political philosopher and the father of communism. The people could own nothing, could earn nothing, and could trade nothing. They were all slaves without rights underneath a despotic government with perverse beliefs, such as there being only one god.

Many of the merchants found themselves in dire straits because of this. They could not afford to go home with their cargoes, as that would put them into debt or lose them large amounts of money. A few tried trading with the local government, but they were mostly unsuccessful in dealing with those megalomaniacal fools. Quickly, black markets and smuggling were the name of the game, selling to the locals without any official approval to do so, but even that was not enough. Something had to be done or else the merchants of the Raikh would be brought to ruin.

It was during one sleepy afternoon that a plot was hatched, as news had reached them of the goings on of Niujis Respijt. The barbarians planned to inflict their diseased ways of thinking upon some other savage natives of the island, ones which if the rumours were true, held many gods and knew trade. Obviously, this was a vital opportunity. If the merchants could make contact with these native tribes, then all would be well... They would be able to trade goods for goods and return home with a mild victory under their belts and possibly infinite revenue streams, at least until the barbarians took these poor noble savages.

With visions of safety in mind, three ships were loaded full of guns, warm clothes, and jewellery, as well as some white goods that did not require electricity, and the merchants set off. They sailed along the coast until they no longer saw the obvious signs of settlement and then slowed. Careful to avoid getting too close and possibly beaching, the ships spied the coast and sailed onwards.

Though they looked hard, it was only on the third day that they saw hair or hide of any man ashore. A small canoe with a net had been abandoned by two men when the merchantmen had hoved into sight, leaving the expedition with a good indication of local life.

Quickly, the ships came to a stop and lowered their anchors, before finally sending shore parties with gifts and guns ashore to track the natives. Trudging through the forest and along a river, the party found a small village made of wicker, bark, reeds, and wood. They approached it cautiously, checking huts, but found not a soul. As they went through it, they found fires still burning and goods left in place. The locals had left in a hurry.

Looking to each other, they decided to send men back to the shore to inform the ships that they would wait in the village and hope that the locals would return so contact could be made. Setting themselves up, they started cooking a meal over one of the fires and got comfortable.

It was around midnight when the natives appeared. With red hides, black hair, and faces a mixture of black and white, the savages stole quietly through the village and snuck up on the party. They were quick and grabbed the lookouts, before then capturing the men nearer to the fire who were asleep.

Now awake and face to face with the red men, the leader of the party spread his hands out wide and repeated 'Vris, Vris...' as he slowly grabbed his sword and pistol and threw them aside. Now unarmed, he again slowly reached for a bag and was nearly speared for his trouble, except for the fact that he froze immediately and again repeated the words of 'Vris, Vris' before trying to continue.

When he opened the bag, the goods inside caught the light of the fires and the barbarian holding him captive seemed to relax and peer in curiosity at its contents. Inside were several copper and steel pans, as well as other cookware which were meant as gifts.

The native barked out something to his fellows and they seemed to release some tension, but they did not drop their weapons. Over the next few minutes, most of the landing party were dragged and deposited into a hut made with thorny wood, while the leader was kept outside and by the fire with the goods. The rest of the village started to make their way back into their homes, looking at the merchant before heading off.

It was a bit after two in the morning when the merchant was escorted into a much bigger hall like structure. He was allowed to bring a couple of bags with him. There, he was put before a group of men and a woman, all of whom seemed intent on looking him up and down. It was there that he made a show of unpacking his pans and weapons, presenting them to those gathered, and hoping beyond hope that this was just their way of making contact with unexpected outsiders.