What I have told you thus far indicates that the Romani all traveled as one people, but you know that we are divided into tribes all over the world. How did this come to be? This is the story:
This same winter I was telling you of, the Gypsies were caught in a raging blizzard, so strong that one could not see the horses before the wagon. Not accustomed to such weather, we became lost. We realized it was foolish to press on and decided rather to make camp, conserving our strength until the storm passed. After a long time or a short time, the wind stopped howling and the snow stopped falling, but we found ourselves adrift on a slab of ice!
At first there was room for all on the ice floe. But as time passed and we floated south, the floe began to melt. Slowly at first, so we only had to move the wagons closer together. But as the floe continued south, we were forced to stack the wagons one atop the other. And the time came when there was room enough for just one wagon, and all the others were stacked atop it! A hundred hundred wagons high was this stack, and one wagon wide. Och... is true, I tell you!
Well, finally the floe came to ground, maybe in Rotaria, I think. The Romani were so overjoyed that the celebration began. The fiddlers fiddled. The tambourines crashed. The whole Gypsy people began to dance. And the tower of wagons began to sway...
And it swayed until it was flung apart with fearsome force. When the Gypsies resurrected, they found themselves spread to the four corners of the earth. This is how we came to be separated into the many tribes.
But Franz was still out King, and he traveled to all of the tribes, which he termed Kumpania. He told us that the monarch would still be the law. But he named in each tribe a Bandoleer, who would rule the tribe in the monarch's absence. He named in each tribe a head of the Kris to hear the legal issues of that tribe. So no matter what tribe you see, you will see at least those two positions filled.
But there are other positions of authority you will see in many tribes. The first is the Calldoon, the shaman of the tribe. This is a wise person, usually an elder member of the tribe, who knows the customs and history of our people well. The other members of the tribe oft defer to his wisdom, and he has the responsibility of teaching our ways to the youngsters. Yes, little ones, I am our tribe's Calldoon.
The second post is that of Torke, or warlord. In times of battle, the Torke, not the Bandoleer, will lead the Kumpania. In times of peace, he will teach the other Gypsies how to fight. And in times of vengeance, he will channel our anger against our foe.
(Do not think, by the way, that my use of the masculine pronoun indicates that the Calldoon or Torke must be a man. The greatest of our Torkes was Wolverina Brashta, never defeated in battle. A tale is told of a mighty army of Gaje skunks marching across Niman, when they came across a figure atop a hill. The figure shouted down to them, "I am Franz, King of the Gypsies! Send up your mightiest warrior!" The Gaje general, curious sent up her mightiest hero. Within seconds, that hero's head came rolling down the hill. And the figure atop the hill cried out again: "I am Franz, King of the Gypsies. Send up your ten mightiest warriors that I may slay them!" The Gaje general, angered at the loss of her mightiest hero, sent up her ten best surviving fighters. Within a minute, ten heads had rolled down the hill. And the figure atop the hill shouted out once more: "I am Franz, King of the Gypsies. Send up your hundred mightiest warriors that I may feed them their livers!" A hundred warriors climbed the hill. By the next dawn, a hundred heads rolled back down it. And the figure atop the hill shouted for the final time: "I am Franz, King of the Gypsies. Send up your thousand best fighters, and I shall do to them as I have done to all those before them!" The Gaje general, furious now, sent up a thousand fighters. For a day the battle raged, and another. Gaje fell before Franz like things with lousy balance fall before something really good at knocking stuff over. A hundred heads rolled down, and a hundred more. Three hundred, four hundred. Finally, nine hundred and ninety nine Gaje heads rolled down the hill. and the last Gaje fighter turned and fled, terror in his eyes, shouting, "Run for your lives! It's an ambush! Wolverine Brashta is with him!")
The final traditional post is that of Whip Mistress. A woman normally holds this position, but I have heard tell of a tribe in Ravenholt the City that has a man filling this post. The Gaje imagine all types of meanings for this title, but truth be known, the Whip Mistress keeps the tribes animals. The occasional pet bear or bull sometimes needs a good swat, so the Whip Mistress is always prepared. Keep this our secret, little ones; let the Gaje have their fantasies.