1945 Day 150
"Singing in the Pain"

	Velgut sat calmly by the fireplace of Nashgoln’s cabin, warming his hands.  He
wasn’t sure which he found more deceptive, a good night’s sleep, or the meeting he had
been allowed to watch the previous evening.
	Nashgoln had taken him to a resistance organizational meeting.  That’s what
Velgut struggled over.  Resistance meetings and attempts at resistance to Hyru’s rule
were common enough, but this was only an organizational meeting.  Nashgoln stumbled
in, weary eyed.
	"Sleep well, my young poet?" mumbled the minstrel.
	"I had a dream that you were actually going to tell me what’s going on." joked the
no nonsense Velgut.
	Nashgoln spun around.  "I showed you all there is to show in my resistance. 
There are no rites of initiation, no rituals to test loyalty or trust.  You’re in if you want."
	"So all you all do is have organizational meetings?"  
	"The lack of drama distresses the parts of me that other artists see as a musician. 
But yes, all we have is organizational meetings.  You see, most resistances focus on
fighting or undermining Hyru’s rule.  They draft members where and when they can. 
Sometimes those movements are stationary, awaiting discovery and crushing.  Other
movements are constantly on the move, but eventually become so caught up in evading
capture, they have no resources to do anything else."
	"I take it you and your crowd have something else in mind?"
	"All resistances try to undo the order that Hyru has created.  They all will
inevitably fail because disruption of order brings chaos.  Faced with the choice of chaos,
or Hyru’s order, most people prefer Hyru.  Sheer momentum, the lesser of two evils,
whatever you choose to call it, this allows Hyru to remain in power."
	"So, your resistance is trying to replace the order with a new one?"
	"Not completely.  We’re trying to gather small chapters in each town.  Individuals
who will gather as much information as they can about what’s going on locally, so that
our runners can collect and disperse that information to the other towns.  Eventually,
we’ll be the most informed of the resistances."
	
"Nashgoln, I’ve always believed that information and knowledge are power, but
what do you plan to do with it?"
	"We plan to be patient.  Rather than selecting a leader, we’re waiting for a natural
one to come along.  When he or she does present themselves, we’ll have an organization
with both breadth and depth, and members both stationary and mobile, ready for their
disposal."
	"An interesting plan.  Why-,"  Velgut stopped.  He had been about to ask why
Nashgoln wanted him in, but something occurred to him.  "You want me as a runner. 
I’m already a constant traveler, and Hyru’s minions tend to ignore us artists.  They think
we don’t care what’s really going on."
	"That was my original intention with you," sighed Nashgoln.  "But I fear you
don’t really care what’s going on in the towns across the land."
	Velgut turned and gazed out the window.  "I’m afraid I don’t care anymore.  By
traveling through all the pains and sad stories, I am immune to them all."
	"All but the end of Liam."  Nashgoln’s words stabbed Velgut.  "Asking you to be
a runner was my first intention, Velgut.  But the chances of you accepting were unlikely. 
I have another favor to ask of you, one more important to you and to me.  Liam had a
piece of jewelry, a purple ring, a sort of orb.  She always hinted to me that it had some
ancient power, but she never told me what it was.  Can you go get it?  If it does have
some power, we may be able to use it for the resistance."
	"And if it has no power?"
	"Then you’ll have done something to honor and cherish her memory."
	"Why don’t you go yourself?"
	"I’ve grown too old for travel like that, as had Liam.  Besides, my disappearance
from here, even for a day or two, would cause concern and draw unneeded attention to
our young resistance.  Speaking of such, the townsfolk are used to my tunes as they pass
by each morning."  
	"Nashgoln, there’s no way you thought up this resistance.  Who started it?"
	"Liam."  As if too pained for further questions, Nashgoln stepped out onto his
porch.  Velgut found the back door, and struck off in the woods, northwest back towards
Regan.  His ears strained to here the fading tunes, not sure if he’d be back to hear them
again.