𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮     A crone and an elderly patriarch sat using a gnarled mangrove root for seats. A group of men and women, much younger, sat cross-legged beneath the two in the wildflower and tall cattail patches that nestled against the mangrove leaning precariously over the bay surrounding the Crannogtown. The patriarch looked to the crone for permission to begin and she gave permission with a single tap of her pikestaff and a doddering nod.   "Slanu ye'all. I will speak in Comm