Elion Miradove
Poet-Sage of the Harmonious Muse
Disbeliever in Ground-Based Negotiation,
Master of Not Picking First,
Once Asked if “Scatter” Was a Metaphor (It Wasn’t)
A Ritual of Restraint? Or Madness in Stages?
Ah yes, The Grand Scatter—a Human tradition of order disguised as chaos, or perhaps chaos masquerading as order. The process is simple:
After a battle, the victorious party takes all their gathered loot—swords, trinkets, coins, rings, assorted socks—and throws it all upon the ground in a heap.
Then, as though performing some ancient rite passed down from the gods of patience and passive-aggression, they take turns picking up items.
This continues until all the loot has been claimed and everyone either walks away satisfied—or simmering silently over the fact that someone else got new boots.
The Elven Perspective
Now, to an Elf, this raises… questions. So many questions.
Why the dirt?
Why the turn-taking?
Why pretend it’s not a competition when everyone is clearly ranking items in their heads?
We are told, solemnly, that this is a fair and honorable method of distribution. And yes, it is diplomatic—each Human waits their turn, like civil beings.
But it is also baffling.
These people often belong to the same faction, same warband, even the same family—yet they willingly engage in what can only be described as a polite form of territorial foraging. Over loot they ostensibly already own.
Strategic Insights from the Sidelines
As a frequent observer (and rare participant, once—never again), I’ve noted the following:
First Pick Is Political: The person who goes first is often chosen based on perceived merit, deed, or who is most likely to complain.
Order Matters: The second picker often tries to feign indifference while locking eyes on something shiny.
Last Picker: Often walks away with “an old spoon” and “a damaged scroll” and mutters about it for the next hour.
The Heap Itself: Items are not separated. Rings lie with fishhooks. Greatswords sit atop socks. This is somehow considered “neutral ground.”
High Elves:
Typically stand nearby with arms folded, murmuring things like,
"Fascinating. A ceremony that glorifies equitable distribution via clutter."
They sometimes suggest ledgers. They are never listened to.
Hill Elves:
Patiently watch. Comment on the structural integrity of the pile. May offer to sort things. Always ignored.
One Hill Elf once brought a table. The Humans threw the loot on the ground next to it.
Wood Elves:
Think it’s charming. Sometimes bring snacks.
One Wood Elf claimed that the ritual is actually “a metaphor for how nature distributes bounty randomly.”
No one was sure if he was joking.
Elion’s Attempt at a Cultural Analogy
Imagine this:
A grand feast is prepared. Rather than serving the food, the hosts dump the roast, bread, wine, and cutlery in the center of the hall, and then—with a flourish—invite everyone to step forward, one at a time, to pick a morsel. In silence.
That’s the Grand Scatter.
Except with more daggers.
Elion’s Honest Thoughts
It’s not cruel.
It’s not selfish.
It’s not even disorganized.
It is, in truth, quite fair.
Which makes it all the more maddening.
To Elves, value is often determined by purpose. A sword goes to the one who will wield it best. A ring to the mage whose mana will feed it. But to Humans?
“Let’s throw it in a pile and pick prettiest to ugliest.”
A ritual of balance… born from the very heart of unreason.
Closing Remarks
Carry on, you peculiar practitioners of the Grand Scatter.
May your next pick not be a fishhook wrapped in socks.
May your grace continue to lie in your willingness to pretend this isn’t strange.
And should you ever decide to fling your wealth again—I’ll be watching.
With ink in hand.
And judgment in reserve.
Elion Miradove
Poet-Sage of the Harmonious Muse
Observer of Oddities,
Chronicler of the Mildly Inexplicable,
Would Prefer We Just Talk About It Over Wine