Since these terms are rather flexible in their interpretation, allegations require that the case be brought before a court comprised of thirteen members, of a caste and rank equal to the accused. Selection of the court is by random lot, from a pool of eligible members of those potentially affected by the charge. For example a case of sedition is judged by randomly chosen members of that city. Both the accuser and the accused have three vetoes to dismiss those court members they consider biased against them, prompting a further draw. Cases are held within a circle formed by the court members, the accuser presenting evidence and witnesses first, the accused able to defend against the claims after. Due to the Machiavellian minds of the High Folk, the gravity of the crime often depends on extrapolation or inference from available evidence. In some cases the defendant will willingly admit to theft or murder, but demonstrate such procedures were necessary to avoid a greater calamity to the brotherhood or city. After all participants have had their say, the court judges whether the accused is guilty or not, based upon a majority vote. The second peculiar aspect of the legal system is that if the case against the accused is not successful, then it is the accuser who suffers the punishment. This has a rather disconcerting effect of making such cases a rather risky enterprise. Consequently the threat of such cases is often utilised more than actual legal action itself.
Although petty jealousies or revenge are often handled as private matters, rather than taken to court, it is a fundamental aspect of High Folk society that nobody, not even the most powerful arch-mage, is above the law. Indeed, the higher the status and social standing of an individual, the more likely that they will be brought low by their peers, who are fearful of anyone gaining unassailable autocratic power.
Politics
Politically the High Folk have divided up the island into three parts, each region supposedly under the direct control of one of their Mysterious Cities of Gold. In reality this feigned authority has little basis in fact, most of the Sav age tribes remaining free from demanded tribute to live as they desire without meddling from the remote mountain fastnesses. Most High Folk are blissfully unaware of their eroded power, conceitedly believing that they can demand sub mission from any lesser race who dares present themselves before them. The sorcerers keep such knowledge to them selves, scrying from their high towers to spy upon the low land tribes. The tribes unfortunately positioned closest to the three Cities of Gold have long since been infiltrated by shape shifted agents whose task it is to ensure nothing threatens the balance of power amongst the savages, such as the rise of a charismatic hero. In these cases the High Folk manipulate the situation with sly words, subtle magics and ultimately, poisoned obsidian knives, to ensure nobody unifies the tribes against them.
Of course not all threats come from the savages, since the cities are also fighting amongst themselves in a slow, centuries-long dance of carefully planned deceit – each city seeking to elevate itself above the others. Sometimes the battle is waged via diplomacy and trade; at other times an outsider tribe is suborned to raid the tribute caravans which supply the High Folk’s taste for luxurious living.
Communications
Amongst the High Folk all communications are sent magically, via ancient apparatus or direct magical scrying. Most of the remaining techno-sorcerous artefacts linking the cities take the form of irregularly angled, tetrahedron crystals in which the face of the speaker is projected. Scrying usually involves the use of an ornately carved obsidian or jade bowl, filled with fresh blood – the head of the sorcerer rising up from the surface in a grotesquely animated liquid sculpture. Few High Folk ever physically travel to other cities unless sent as a diplomatic mission. In these special circumstances, the ambassadors travel by savage-borne palanquins in a great procession across the island, keeping where possible to the remnants of the once splendid cause ways which crossed the muddy jungles. Such embassies are accompanied by dozens of magnificently outfitted High Folk warriors and attendants, bearing riches beyond the imagination of most savage hetmen; who gaze enviously, held back by ancient banners of inviolate passage. At the times when sorcery is disrupted by The Shifting of the Gates or during the lightning of tropical storms, a handful of beast riders are sometimes sent to deliver written messages. Usually these riders are mounted upon flying creatures, specially trained to carry members of that particular brotherhood. Akakor breeds giant vultures specifically for this task, whereas Agartha uses alien flying worms held aloft by hot gases, and Zerzura has its moon bats.
Trade
There is little trade between the High Folk cities, save for the exchange of information and occasional paranoia. Objects of artistic worth or lost knowledge are too valuable to exchange, instead being secretively stolen by rival sorcerers who have the skill and magical potency to pull off such an audacious deed. Rather, the High Folk sustain themselves on a com bination of the output of their sorcerous technological machines, supplemented by tribute given by neighbouring tribes. Many of these goods are of little direct use, but are valued for their artistic style over practicality. Of all the commodities imported, magical components for ritual spells are the most highly prized – primarily being drugs and narcotics of various types; closely followed by slaves. A few savages actually engage in active trade with the people of the cities, exchanging specially requested merchandise or commissioned artwork for their seemingly never ending supply of gold. Caravans however only arrive once or twice a year, leaving an opportunity for anybody with an entrepreneurial spirit who doesn’t mind trading with the amoral High Folk.
Warfare
The High Folk have long forgotten the art of war. Their modestly sized cities stand hollow, any individual able to claim an entire house for their private residence, providing they clear it out and repair it. Thus the thought of sending a large number of their populace off to face deadly conflict is an anathema to them, for long generations relying instead upon subtlety and magic to guard their borders. This is not to say that the High Folk are inept at combat. Some of the warrior brotherhoods are experts in hand to hand fighting, sending yearly expeditions into the less explored regions of the island to test their mettle against fearsome beasts which lurk there. However in terms of experience of working together at a tactical level, they are in fact inferior to the savages they so often deride; High Folk warriors being more egocentric by nature and unwilling to cooperate with their fellows if this would risk losing status to their brethren. High Folk units of areani (from seven to twelve individuals) are normally accompanied by a low ranking sorcerer, whose task is to provide magical support for the group. In the old days, before they battled the gods, they fielded entire legions of mages capable of levelling a small mountain. But now the High Folk are spread thin and it is rare to see more than an adept assigned to such patrols. Unlike the savages, most High Folk do not try to subdue their foes with an eye to capture them, not unless they are specifically seeking slaves per se. They have instead a reputation for dishonourable blood-thirsty murder, killing foes by stealth and trickery. Cruelty is part and parcel for any one who has the misfortune to survive a High Folk attack, the odds great that their soul will be consumed during the subsequent torture to replenish the magical strength of that unit’s accompanying sorcerer. Such a fate means that the spirit of the victim will be utterly destroyed, unable to journey onto the afterlife. As a result, High Folk warriors are both feared and loathed.
Customs
In a similar vein to the lowland Savages, the High Folk practice a number of strange and oft-times repulsive traditions. These are viewed by the recluses as normal behaviour for civilised peoples and are as likely to cause offense if not performed by visitors to their cities, as it is to induce disgust by those viewing them for the first time.
Flower Bearing
The High Folk consider themselves a refined culture, dedicated to art and literature. Part of the way they express their sophistication is via the appreciation of flowers. Not only are blooms visually beautiful, but their perfumes are also stimulating, as are the messages they convey. Due to the overwhelming prevalence of different flower species in the jungle, an entire floral language has evolved to demon stratenuance, when worn or exchanged. There are flowers of subservience, diplomacy, ceremony and personal emotion, the latter being important in a society where facial emotions are hard to read. For example, presenting a species known for its toxicity to somebody of equal rank sends warning that the giver intends to challenge or overthrow that person; whereas giving the same flower to an inferior indicates extreme displeasure, even immanent execution of the recipient. Although these particular floral messages are obvious threats, High Folk culture places great value on such politeness! Knowledge of the correct types of flower to utilise is covered by the Courtesy skill. Presenting oneself to a travelling High Folk embassy, or to one of their cities, without wearing a bloom or wreath of flowers, lowers the standing of the visitor to that of uncouth barbarian. New and unique f lowers, which sometimes briefly sprout nearby the Smoking Mirror portals, are highly prized by the High Folk, many of whom practice floriculture as a hobby.