Encyclopaedia Argollica

Kikimora

The Zelena Hills are an interesting example of continuity between this age and the last, and a good case study might perhaps be made there regarding environmental determinism. In the previous age, they were an idyllic region: fertile and well-tended fields stretched as far as the eye could see, interspersed with the hill-dwellings of the halflings, whose only faults were a fondness of gossip and a somewhat provincial attitude. In a way, the Zelena Hills represented the goals of those fighting on the side of the High God in her conflict with the Demon Lord: a quiet, well-ordered land, where people could lead quiet, well-ordered lives.

Unfortunately, the Hills' population was not immune to the effects the killing of the twin gods had on Argoll, and soon the area was abandoned. The once verdant fields lay overgrown and the houses were left to fall into ruin, while formerly quiet streams left their banks to create vast tracts of marshland.

The kikimora were born in these swamps, and it is where they lived during the infancy of their race. But they have as good a sight as any other monster, and it wasn't long before they noticed the many abandoned houses in the hills. A few individuals among them started to explore these ruins, marvelling at the old tattered clothes, the intricate, albeit dusty, furniture and the strange people in the portraits that hung on the walls. Soon the kikimora took advantage of this vacant real estate and moved into the old halfling dwellings. They even learnt how to read the old halfling language, with some help from us, and were thus able to access what little remained of the halflings literature. This enabled them to bring the fallow fields back into cultivation, but also exposed them to the intricacies of halfling culture. The kikimora eagerly followed the example of their predecessors, albeit with a new, marshy twist.

At first glance, it might seem like many of the halfling houses are still abandoned, considering the sheer quantity of moss, cobwebs and dust they have collected, not to mention the unkempt look of the gardens surrounding the homes. But that is simply how the kikimora like it. They put as much stock in a cozy home as the halflings did, and in their eyes dirt is the peak of coziness, a marker that the inhabitants of the house know there are more important things than obsessively cleaning their home. The only spot in kikimora houses that is kept clean are any portraits of halflings that are still present, out of "respect for the previous tenants."

Just as in centuries past, the Hills are an agricultural breadbasket. The pastureland has increased in size compared to the halfling days, as the kikimora are more fond of animals and dairy-products than the halflings were, but many of the vegetables cultivated during the previous age are still grown. But traditional animal husbandry and agriculture are hardly the only form of food cultivation the kikimora practice. All sorts of vermin, such as spiders, flies and rats, are bred. Some of these are kept for companionship, but often it is their destiny to land in a soup pot or on a charcoal grill. Their casualties are particularly high during the big banquets the kikimora are wont to hold on agricultural holidays, but the neighbourhood-association's swamp-tea parties are dark days for these animals as well.

The kikimora export a fair bit for their produce, and they find an easy market for it, though the cloth they trade usually needs to be washed and the cheese checked for worms before foreign merchants are willing to buy it. The kikimora are rather confused by the need for these procedures, but foreigners have queer customes, and they are happy to accomodate these for coin.

They have adopted the halfling political system as well. Village councils are the most important governmental organs. Made up of respected local figures such as the judge, notary and town witch, the council takes care of most affairs in the village and the lands surrounding it. On top of this, mayors are regularly elected to lead the village, and these elections are accompanied by grandiose speeches and much animated discussion in the local taverns. However, the position is mostly a ceremonial one, and coveted primarily for the prestige it confers upon a person, as well as for the fact that the mayor is often called on to act as judge in the annual baking contest.

The greater kikimora government consists of a parliament that gathers at the central town of Viperbrook. However, while this parliament is expected to manage things in times of crisis through such measures as calling up the militias or coordinating relief efforts, in day-to-day life the kikimora generally wish for it to be as quiet and inactive as possible. After all, they can certainly manage their own affairs better than some faraway government could. As such, election to parliament is often used as a way to get annoying local figures out of the town's hair.

A plethora of local events offers the kikimora relief from the daily business of their farms and crafts. Court cases, being public affairs, are always great attractions, and even trivial issues such as the shifting of a boundary stone between two fields can provide ample ground for village gossip. On top of this, many fairs are organised every year, where farmers from different villages come together to boast about how much milk their cows produce or how fat the flies they breed are, and to turn up their noses at the competition from the next town over. Lectures are also a common pastime. The topics covered vary wildly, from advice to bug farmers on how best to deal with the nightly depredations of bats to issues of public morality, such as whether or not the youth are being corrupted by strange foreign customs such as bathing.

Another area where both continuity and change can be observed between the ages is religion. The halflings of old used to worship the High God in regular church services, which were just as focused on moral education and the regulation of the worshippers' behaviour as on praising their creator. Just like the halflings' houses, their churches lie in ruin: rubble is scattered about, rats scurry in the walls and weeds grow from the floor. Yet they are still in use. To replace the monotheistic reverence for the High God, the polytheistic kikimora have instead set up many different idols throughout the ruins of the churches, some of a rather gruesome aspect.

Despite this outward change, much of the halfling way of worship has been adopted by the kikimora. Just as in the past, every villager is expected to attend the weekly worship at the church in her best attire, and not attending without a clear reason is sure to give rise to many rumours. Although sacrifices to the village's gods are a central part of the service, prominent members of the community are also invited to deliver sermons on various important issues and themes, such as neighbourliness, good conduct, and the necessity of keeping one's cats inside so they won't urinate on everyone else's nettlebeds. Evidently, kikimora religion fulfills the exact same function of enforcing social rules and setting standards of behaviour as the halfling one did.

Interestingly, even the gods are held to these standards. No deity is worshipped in the village church unless their cult is deemed acceptable by the village council. If their rites are considered to be disreputable and harmful to public morality, the deity is banished to the realm of informal, personal worship, and any kikimora known to engage in it will receive regular judgmental stares. Naturally, every village sees its own small pantheon as the most respectable and deserving of worship, while the gods of the neighbouring village are quite boorish in comparison.

The importance of witches is another change that the halflings of old would be shocked to see. This office is entirely an innovation of the kikimora, without any halfling influence, and what little record we have of their earliest history indicates that witchcraft was practiced by the kikimora from the very beginning. Every village has its own witch, an office which is usually passed down from mother to daughter, and it is a position of high honour.

In a way, kikimora witches combine the functions of doctor and village priest, though they do not fulfill either function fully. On the one hand, they possess a great trove of knowledge regarding magic, alchemy and medicine, and for a fee they are happy to resolve a variety of personal issues for the people of their village. At the same time, they serve as intermediaries between the kikimora and the spirit world, getting called in to mediate disputes with local nature spirits or to perform exorcisms. Often, gods who wish to be worshipped by a kikimora community will first contact the local witch to make this desire known, after which she will relay it to the village council on which she more often than not has a seat. While witches gain most of their knowledge and skills from family tradition and independent study, they do stay in regular contact with each other. Witches from several villages are organised in regional covens that meet at set times, usually at night, to discuss any larger supernatural issues, swap recipes and spells, drink swamp-water tea and trade gossip.

At the end of the day, despite the many changes wrought by Echidna, the Zelena Hills have changed remarkably little during the transition from one age to the next. They are still full of quiet, respectable folk, who would rather not be bothered too much by the outside world and prefer to mind their own business, thank you very much. The more things change, it seems, the more they stay the same.