While it is true that the hill barbarians take great pride in their animals, one must take pains to never compliment them on the quality of their herding dogs. Doing so can prove dangerous to one's health, as I discovered on my journey south from the Provinces.
I had noticed a particularly striking charcoal-colored beast doing an excellent job at controlling the movement of a cottar's sheep. When I remarked that he must be very proud of his dog, the brute (meaning the herdsman, not his animal) struck me full in the face. My bodyguard would have slit him gullet to groin on the spot had I not ordered a halt to the natural consequences of the savage's attack upon my person.
While it is true that these hill folk are as bizarre and backward a people as you have told me, even they understood the difference between an insult and a compliment. Thinking perhaps that I had mispronounced their uncouth tongue, I inquired of my host (once he regained consciousness) the nature of his hostility. His response made me wonder if, perhaps, my bodyguard had not been excessive in pursuing his duties. I was informed that, while the scum of the Boarhead Clan might keep dogs, *he* would never let any such creature darken his hut or soil his herd.
I had to remove my confusion; therefore, from a safe distance, I indicated what I had hitherto thought to be a canine and inquired as to its species. Imagine, if you can, my astonishment at being told that this magnificent specimen of a sheepdog was actually some type of cat! I had to know in what way his statement was true. How can a dog be a cat?
The answer was enough to convince me, had I not already long ago reached the conclusion, that the hill barbarians are truly a sad and benighted people, desperately in need of Lunar illumination. According to these people, it seems, the half-brother of their greatest god--the rebel whose name it is imprudent to mention at times--is himself a type of cat.
This "Yinkin" has had a long and hostile history regarding Brother Dog. Evidently, at some time in the past, Brother Dog stole away one of Yinkin's first litter (a litter by whom is a different tale altogether) to see if he could steal the "virtues" of the alynx for his own nefarious purposes.
By the time Yinkin managed a rescue (The tale is filled with all manner of distractions too tedious to enter into this missive. I shall have the scribe send a complete recounting with the package to Mother.), Brother Dog had worked some kind of unholy magic to render Yinkin's lost kit indistinguishable from a puppy. Yinkin couldn't determined which was his and brought the whole pile back.
"Alas, alas, alas, woe woe, woe," (and I do quote the cottar, if only to show how preposterous his storytelling was--the man had *tears* in his eyes at this point. Had I thought I would have had any success in the offer, I'd have paid the man *gold* to go back home and act as a most droll little clown for Mother's pleasure!) "the kit had been deformed in spirit as well as body. Softly, softly, softly padded in Yinkin to do what must be done. Sadly, sadly, sadly he took one who could be the twisted kit in his mouth. Grimly, grimly, grimly he thought on the foul act of kinslaying."
This went on for some time. When I was nearly ready to shake the man and demand he get on with it, matters finally came to a head. To make a long story short, the Big Blowhard just happened to be dropping by, and he just *happened* to have the Blessed Healer and Old Greyface with him. Before one can say "absurdly convenient coincidence" (Do these barbarian gods always just happen to be hanging around at the dramtically appropriate moment? No wonder their people are so lazy--no need to work things out for themselves.), they talk Yinkin out of dispatching the whole litter and propose a set of tests.
I wish I could have sent the man to you to re-enact what happened next. I would wager that even you would venture a smile before sunset at his antics. Mother would have positively wet herself. As it was, it took all my diplomatic training and a conveniently sharp rock on the floor to keep a straight face. I will merely say that hill barbarian cottars can do quite a parody of a puppy when they put their mind to it.
It seems that the litter was tested for (and I would not fault you for refusing to believe this) DISobedience, for lack of affection, for DISloyalty, and for dislike of bathing. Of course, the barbarian said "strong will", "independence", etc. The most disagreeable of the animals was adjudged to be Yinkin's true offspring, and the rest were done away with in graphic detail that still renders me slightly nausious to think thereupon.
Even though the true kit had been discovered, little could be done to
undo Brother Dog's "vile taint of treachery, done by, some say, even the
hand of Unbeing". The best they could do was make the ears pointier and
the whiskers stiffer. The unfortunate also didn't get back all of his
catlike behavior and persisted in doggishness, much to Yinkin's shame.
Fortunately (yet another remarkable coincidence), their Trickster God
(Not Oralanit but Yu-something, of all the NERVE!) took a liking to the
thing and adopted it. The other low-class hangers on found that it was
good for tasks like herding and helped perpetuate the breed.
This is how the Hill Barbarian Herding Alynx came to be. I should note that my host did mention that Brother Dog still manages to steal away the spirits of these "Herding Alynxes" and replaces them with dog spirits. For this reason, the cottars always try to make sure that at least one of their number is familiar with the appropriate divination ritual whereby a true "Herding Alynx" is distinguished from a mere dog. No longer able to contain myself, I made a hasty excuse of needing to attend to bodily functions. I think the poor cottar concluded that I was dying from diarrhea from the howls (of laughter) that emerged while I temporarily inhabited a convenient out-house.
Your Most Obedient and Humble Servant
and Son
Phargentes
Olifaxis
RuneQuest Spell
Find Yinkin's Kits
(Divine, Ritual, Reusable)
This spell is cast upon any litter of Herding Alynx. The full ritual involves various calling, tossing of small balls, and repeated dousings of the kits with cold water. At the end of the ritual, the caster will know which are truly Herding Alynx kits and which have had their spirits stolen by Brother Dog and replaced with dog spirits. On a normal success, one of the kits is true. On a special or critical success, half of the litter is true. On a critical success when the ritual is cast on Yinkin's High Holy Day (varies by village), the entire litter is true. A failure indicates that the entire litter has been tainted. Fumble indicates that not only is the litter tainted, but the spirits of the parental Herding Alynxes have been replaced with dog spirits! This is a great tragedy for the cottar's family.
True kits will be more difficult to train than are dogs (-20 to the Animal Handling roll) and will sleep slightly more than do dogs. Additionally, they will have pointed ears and straight whiskers and tend to have a short, grey coat. For any sort of detection or control spell, they will be "Alynxes", not dogs. "Greydog" is a common term among some Orlanthi to indicate a Herding Alynx. "There are dogs, which we hate, and greydogs, which we love, for they are not actually dogs in a spiritual sense."
Dog cuckoos (those who are discovered to have had their spirits stolen) are killed in honor of Yinkin. Clans that are remiss to any degree in casting this spell risk being accused of "raising dogs".
Poorer cottars sometimes forego the ritual altogether and hope nobody looks too closely.
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