Encyclopaedia Argollica

Nekhbet

The Saltspire Mountains do not look like they have much to offer. A warm climate, rocky soil and precious little rain combine to create a land of rocky crags and valleys covered in dry, yellow grass, where small herds of animals graze under the watchful eye of scavenger birds waiting until one of them drops from thirst or exhaustion. The area has only one blessing: the extensive salt mines that riddle the mountains like veins in a body, and from which huge hauls of the mineral are extracted every year.

Despite the challenges of this environment, the nekhbet are rather suited for it. Their large wings and sharp claws help them to survey their home from the sky and hunt the creatures living in the mountains, while their strong stomach allows them to scavenge carcasses if necessary. Meanwhile, the extensive ruff of feathers around their neck enables them to retract their head and, in so doing, protect their neck from the searing heat of the sun. At first they mostly pastured herds of animals on the sparse grasses of the mountains, supplementing the sustenance gained from their pastoral activities with hunting and the cultivation of a few hardy plants near the streams that descend from the mountains.

But salt is always in demand, and it did not take long for others to come looking for it. Soon a lively trade in salt on the one hand and food and manufactured goods on the other developed. With it came important social changes. Those nekhbet who secured control of the salt mines and their operation gained control of the trade, and soon a new class of rulers had arisen, the salt princesses.

Since the princesses' power depends on the control of the mines, they are fiercely guarded, the princesses using the wealth gained from the trade to employ a personal retinue of soldiers. Naturally, they have also used this power to establish their rule over surrounding villages, something which has become equally crucial to their operations. The princesses generally do not demand tax in the form of goods but rather in labour. Every year a set number of villagers have to go work for their princess for a certain amount of time, though the particulars of the arrangement vary from princedom to princedom. These labourers are usually put to work in the mine, with the princesses getting the revenue. In exchange, the villagers get both military protection and a portion of the salt mined, either used for domestic consumption or traded on for the benefit of the village. Alongside mining, there are a few other activities for which these labourers are used, such as military service, creating large monuments to increase the prestige of the princess, or the maintenance of the large roads, remnants of the previous age, that continue to be vital for the salt trade.

Nekhbet society presents a sharp contrast. On the one hand, most nekhbet and their villages look rather sober. Their houses and other structures, when not made of the ruins left behind by the First Peoples, are usually made out of cut stone, with few windows or openings so the inside remains cool. Any smaller extensions are usually made out of leather or woven grass. The nekhbet themselves don't wear too many clothes, usually contenting themselves with a loincloth of goat leather and a broad brimmed grass hat to guard against the sun. Usually their only personal ornamentations are jewelry made from small animal bones and rocks and black tattoos, an artform of which they are particularly fond.

The palaces of the salt princesses, however, rise above the landscape they sit in, often perched on a rocky outcropping from which they can dominate the view. Although they fundamentally share some of the same principles as the common houses, such as having few windows, they are constructed on a much more monumental scale, with engraved stone blocks, large arches and pillars to support the roof. The woven mats that decorate the walls, often also a fixture of common houses, are much more intricate and numerous than among normal villagers. The inhabitants of the palaces match this lavish style. The princess, her advisors and her family wear prestigious goods such as metal jewelry or foreign cloth, as well as having much more intricate and impressive bone jewelry. The soldiers, meanwhile, wear heavy armour and metal weapons. This equipment is usually not suitable for the traditional airborne tactics of the nekhbet, but in the palaces, showing off trumps practicality.

I have already mentioned a few times nekhbet wearing bone jewelry, and this is probably the feature of nekhbet culture most known to outsiders. Their culture is, in general, very utilitarian, particularly in regard to death, perhaps due to the scarcity of trees in the area making bone an appealing material to use. For the nekhbet every part of a corpse is useful, whether as food or crafting materials, and no part of an animal is left unused. This in itself would not be strange: many cultures in Argoll use the remnants of animals they kill to create various kinds of crafted goods. While the nekhbet's love for turning skulls into jewelry with carvings, inlaid stones and feathers takes this to a slightly extreme level, it would not normally be regarded as out of the ordinary.

The issue arises from the fact that the nekhbet extend this treatment to other intelligent organisms. As far as they are concerned, to die only to be left to rot is a great insult, to the point where salt princesses engaged in a particularly bitter feud have been known to mummify their vanquished foes to keep their corpse intact. Traditions that are common elsewhere, such as burial or cremation, are therefore cultural taboos for the nekhbet. Instead, when a nekhbet dies and religious rituals have ensured her soul has passed on, her bones and skin are carefully removed to be used in various crafts. These will often be incorporated into articles of clothing or jewelry, so that her loved ones can still feel her presence near them. Her flesh and organs will then be used as fertilisers to boost the fertility of the village's farms.

Due to this practice, there are many rumours about the nekhbet. I regret to inform my readers that the lurid tales of these harpies kidnapping members of other races to use their skulls as rare crafting materials or delicious food are entirely unfounded, brought about by the fear of an unknown culture with a different outlook on death. However, it has to be said that the nekhbet aren't entirely blameless for this development, as several salt princesses have discovered that playing up rumours of their cruelty can help intimidate foreign merchants into better business deals.

The salt and water on which so much of nekhbet society depends both come from the mountains, deep underground, and this has had a profound effect on nekhbet religion. The world immediately around them, the surface and the sky, are for them thoroughly unmagical places. Rather, the spirit world exists entirely underground, a shadowy, verdant realm where water runs free and tall trees grow in dense forests. Salt, other minerals and most importantly water are seen as gifts from the spirits that dwell there, who took pity on the nekhbet for the harsh condition the surface-dwellers had to live in.

Every village will have its own temple, preferably in a cave from which a stream breaks through the rock, since these are regarded as heavily liminal spaces. This temple is often decorated with paintings of the spirit world and littered with the remains of offerings. Here, regular ceremonies of thanksgiving are held by the village out of gratitude for the gifts of the underground spirits. Traditionally, these included offerings which the spirits were thought to not have access to in the underground, such as goat's cheese, the meat of hunted birds or simple crafts. However, due to the large volume of trade, finished goods from abroad are sacrificed more and more. The traditional way to conduct such sacrifices is to somehow destroy the object in question, through burning, breaking, bending or something similarly destructive, so that it's essence can pass down into the underworld.

The salt princesses maintain their own temples, usually in the same sorts of liminal spaces as the village temples. However, theirs are much more richly decorated, just like their palaces, with more elaborate paintings or even idols. The offerings they bring are suitably lavish as well, sacrificing herds of goats or breaking an entire armoury full of foreign weapons. For them, the ceremonies are almost as much about showing off their wealth as sincerely thanking the spirits for their compassion. And of course, they have to bribe the spirits to give their mines more salt than those of their rivals.