[IC] From Dawn Till Dusk: A New Era

[6slyboy6]

A New Beginning

There exists a place somewhere far away, out of our world where anything can happen. The world knew no bounds when it shaped itself from nothingness, and it's inhabitants enjoy a bounty of natural wonders that we can only dream of. It is a world yet untainted by greed or pollution, where possibilities are still endless and limited only by the imagination. Magic flows with the wind and settles in every living being and wall of stone that it touches, warping and shaping the world to the will of those who know it's name. A world that is ready to be called home by anyone who embraces it for all it's worth and learns to live with it. A place we only call by it's name, Rhea.

- Faded inscription

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Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, 21 C°, Sunny

What was dead, lives once more. Eyes all over the island look up at the sky at the shining ring of stones and debris that goes from horizon to horizon. As the sun rises far over lands unknown, it's light scatters from ice and water and brings the first specks of light to the morning. The sky is alit with a river of lights, shining up and then fading away moments after. There are hundreds, if not thousands of them where they once only saw rocks and a cloud of dust high above them. Dawn has been upon them for generations, but not once has the ring taken to such a colorful dance. It boggles their minds as to what it could be or what it could mean, but they won't know for millenias to come why it was so.

Still, the inhabitants of this strange land are filled with awe and respect. Every time dawn is upon them, they look up at the sky to watch the sun rise and the ring to fade, but this time... this time it is special. As if a divine force commanded them to stop and look inside, even if just for a moment, and then look outside at the world around them. Who are they. What are they doing. As they look around their hovels and count their numbers, they come to realize that nothing has changed yet the feeling still lingers on inside of them. Like a spark to be more than they are. That little cinder that has the potential to become a roaring bonfire if they take the right steps to get to it. As the sun slowly creeps over the horizon and it's warm light fills the plains of the island and seeps through the canopies of it's forests, the feeling slowly fades away as another day of hunting and gathering begins. Perhaps this was just a once in a lifetime spectacle. Perhaps it was something more.

Birds began to sing once more. Deer call out for their mates in the forest, the krollan let out gentle roars that are swept across the plains and the mighty koibra retreat into their caves for the day with one last hiss to let others know they are still watching. Sound returns to the island from the clutches of a silence that nobody seemed to notice was there until it was broken. Life goes on and memories soon fade of the spectacle. There is work to be done, after all. New hovels need to be made to protect from the elements. The animals need to be fed and cared for. The hunting party needs to leave if they are to catch the animals.

Perhaps today won't be the day that changes history forever after all. But if it was, it would be up to the many strange and unique inhabitants of the island to manifest their destiny. Each with unique skills they can use to help each other out for the betterment of all, or to make sure all others tremble at their mere sight. It is now up to them to create the life they wish to live and carve out a little piece of history for themselves. But whether or not this fame will last only from the first rays of the sun to the last, or be etched in stone and remembered thousands of year from now... that remains to be seen.

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Events

Dawn of Civilization: Your people are alive and well, but few in number and living where they have for generations. This is where history begins and you will help them carve out a place for themselves to call home in this wild world. For now they are just simple huts or caves they've come to occupy and their possessions are nothing more than the primitive clothes on their bodies and the basic tools they use. But as they explore the land, create a culture and interact with others, this will soon start to change for the better or worse. So go out there pioneers and see the world for what it is! Every nook and cranny hides a secret, and the other inhabitants of this world are sure to keep you entertained and busy for a long, long time.

[Klomster]

In the beginning, something was felt, now history begins.

In the beginning, something was felt, now history begins.

Day ?, Week ?, Cycle ?
Sobek marshlands.
Springtime, 32 C*, Sunny

The swamp was a deep green cacophony of sounds, insects, toads and the creaking of trees. Large ferns easily two meters tall were scattered around and sprang up from the musky brown green water. Large mangroves blotted out large swathes of the swamp, leaving mostly shadows and only a few streaks of light reaching the swamp floor.

A small village constructed from trees built upon stilts close to the water surface sat in a clearing, it had no name apart from home, because it didn't need one, no leader for the elders held council and decided upon the future, no gods for no one asked where they all came from.
It was a day like all others, apart from that small spark of fire that all could feel, but Sobek if one thing were practical and as such disregarded the feeling, as best they could at least.
A young Sobek kept staring at the sky, the colours fantastical and varied, he had always wondered how it was so, wondered how they had come here but never asked. But now an urge was born inside him, a fire he could not contain, he had to ask, he had to know.
His name was Ata, and he would become the one who sought answers, but to find answers one must speak. He would become the first speaker.

With a pride in his heart and spring to his steps, he walked to the others gathered who were just moving out to this days activities when Ata spoke loudly and clearly.
-"I am ATA! I will speak the questions you all hold in your hearts! Why are we here? How did we get here? Why are things like they are? Did someone put us here? I will sound these questions for you, i will become the first Speaker!" All the other Sobek were looking at him, none spoke a word for they were a people of few words.
Ata was beaming with pride, everyone was listening, he had gotten all the emphasis right, they knew what he was speaking about.
But one of the elders, Thrûl, a massive dark skinned elder with hanging skin upon his jaws, easily 340 years old, walked up to Ata and straightened his posture in front of him, casting a shadow over the much smaller Ata.
-"Only you hold those questions in your heart boy, we do not need to know these things, we only need to know how to get food and how to prepare it, how to build homes and how to care for them, how to bring up young and how to raise them.... but it seems we failed in raising you, spouting nonsense and asking questions no one cares for. Now go back to work! We need not bother with such lofty questions!"
With that the massive elder walked off, his old age slowing him down but he was not in any sense weak or frail.
The other Sobek looked at the scene unfold and to Ata and Thrûl, none spoke a word, none said anything as they all got back to work.

With a broken heart and hurt pride, Ata watched the other leave, did no one else care for his questions? Was he the only one? NO!
He would not have this, he would have his way, but it would take time.
Of course the others wouldn't change over a day, the Sobek had lived like this for centuries, never bothering to ask those questions.
He walked off and began to gather firewood, an unexpectedly tedious task in a swamp.

What Ata didn't know however is that most, if not all the Sobek did hold those questions in their heart, most did feel that spark of something that day, the young Sobek did have points.
Perhaps someone should ask those questions?

But not now, work needed to be done. An entire village did not feed itself, the hunters went out.

Back to the ordinary.

The Krollan were not aware of the danger, calmly eating from the swamp mush, the Sobek's led by Grazh stalked and picked one out and led it astray.
It did not stand much of a chance, the four of them had more mass than the beast and they launched themselves upon it and grappled it with their strong arms.
It tried to escape, but it could not. With an experienced hand Grazh went in for a strike to the throat with a stone spear.
The panicked krollan tried to escape as its lifeblood flowed from its open wound, but it was for naught, the Sobek were too strong.
The other krollans fled the scene, in triumph Grazh and the others cheered with guttural growls and then dragged the beast to the centre of the village.
Gatorsound

The village was abuzz with activity, people crafting, processing plants for fibers, carrying stones and processing trees.
The thicker vines enough to form most tools, if split and dried also made useful fire-starting wood. But the Sobek did not use a lot of fire, the swamp was hot and the food need only be seared, if even that.
Vorak had begun to create a rudimentary roof held up with poles made from the thicker vines, the bracken roof held together with strings made from a blade leafed tall plant with a blue bulbed ugly flower which smelled slightly like rotten fruit.
As Grazh entered the clearing he unleashed a guttural sound, at which all the Sobeks joined in and added to the triumphant cacophony. Celebrating the successful hunt.

After a long time, the beast was mostly divided in its parts and the head was done but before the workers could lay away the skull Ata rose, walked forth and grabbed it and stared into its bloody bone eyes.
-"Who put you here? Why are you edible? Thank you for your sustenance." And broke off a few select pieces from the underside, then put the skull on top of his head.
The bone white skull and the spines in the back gave him a vicious and sort of regal look.

Thrûl was having none of this, he quickly walked up to Ata and struck him with his staff so hard that Ata was flung into the swampy water and the skull flying off even further.
The fuming elder just stood there for a second before loping back to his hut, the others in silence but some clearly didn't approve of the sudden uncalled for violence.
One of the females came to Ata and helped him to his feet and cared for his bruise, a child got him the skull, both of which did put joy in Ata's heart.
Grazh also walked over to Ata, knelt and spoke.
-"I don't know what got into you boy, but you should keep it away from Thrûl. Keep the skull, it seems you want it."
With that the muscle-bound and scarred Grazh went back to his hunting posse. Some tadpole hunters already scurrying over the refuse pile left after butchering the Krollan.

The meat of the Krollan was taken to a still part of the swampy water, deep. There the meat was tied down in nets and weighed down to be stored underwater for some time. To properly ferment the meat the way Sobek liked it.
The bones usually were crushed to get to the juicy marrow inside and then ground into powder to produce a powder which could be used to enrich meat or to fertilize the herb patches. But now some were set aside to experiment upon them.

TL;DR

Events/Developments:

Ata took the title of first speaker, something which the elder Thrûl did not like. But the young Sobek did put words to questions many had wondered for a long time.

He also tried to wear a Krollan skull. Sobek barely wear anything so this was seen as something new with interesting ramifications. Unbeknownst to Ata and Thrûl, this began the experimenting with clothes and bone crafting.
Something that had only small spread before.

[Dark Cloud]

^{- A New Horizon -}

In the beginning of a new era...

Preparation for the journeys ahead...

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Day: ? / Week: ? / Cycle: ?
Location: Skittermander Coast
Season & Climate: Springtime /18°c /Sunny

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Despite the warmth of the sun shining bright in the sky, it was complimented by the cool breeze wafting in from the open ocean along the coast that was inhabited by a group of short and stout reptilians. In their tongue they refer to themselves as Skeetari meaning 'Small skittish lizards' or Skittermander informally. By the cove in which the Skeetar inhabited the locals were sitting around a fire within a cave decorated with paintings depicting things like the ocean with fish, and of Skeetar with pointy sticks.

In the midst of the group

[rezay]

0

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The Takhald Nëge

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Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, The Yaagkhege Steppe

An elder takhal, tall and sturdy even for his race, scales a hill nearby the bundle of yurts his people call home. His shadow is long in the dawn light, and a procession of very agitated foals follow behind him. When he reaches the hill's crest, a large pile of river stones comes into view, taken from the Nëju, which winds around the hill and disappears over the flat horizon. The stones, each the size of a takhal head, envelop the base of a totem. The top of the icon is carved with the likeness of an eagle, who faces the east.

The elder, whose name is Daarö of Altiil, halts before the icon. In his hands he carries a stone much like the ones arrayed before him, carved with a set of runes representing Ituunalg, and painted in bright pigments. Two small skins hang against his thigh from a loop of twine over his shoulder, one of potent lözhan, liquor of the ikt grass, and one of fresh aad milk. In his hands he holds a long-handled stone axe and the leash of an aad lamb, who trails behind him. He wears an aad skin drum on his belt, a load of branches on his back, and a headdress of eagle feathers and rawhide.

Daarö sets his load down and goes to the aad, and uses his length of the cord to bind its legs together, taking a moment to overcome its struggling. Once the animal is bound, he sets it before the stone pile, resting its head on a stone and applying pressure to its neck until it becomes calm. Turning to the rising sun, he murmurs an incantation before turning around again, and casting some liquor and milk over the lamb and stones from his skins. He repeats this series of motions three times, before turning to the sun again. He retrieves his axe from the load of branches, a highly decorated ritual implement, and moves to the side of the lamb.

Raising the weapon into the air, he brings it down on the lamb's head with a deft crack of its skull, and it convulses for a moment before falling still, the blood from its head staining the stones. Facing the young, he sets the long-handled axe aside and sits with his legs crossed, his tail curling around him. For an expanse of ground before him the hill's crest is flat, on which there is a bare patch of ground surrounded by stones forming a pit for fire. After him the young takhal begrudgingly follow, taking their places in a ring around the pit.

Meticulously, Daarö constructs a cone of the branches, stuffing the interior with twigs and dry grass. Gathering a bundle of the latter two, he removes dual shards of flint from a pouch. Under his breath, as it was bad luck for the children to hear, he continues chanting his incantation, soaking the bundle in some of the liquor before striking the pieces of flint together, setting it alight. He places the flame in the center of the cone of branches, and blows gently to stoke it. The foals wait impatiently, some of the younger ones drifting into sleep until their older peers silently nudge them awake.

Once the fire is made, Daarö raises his head and speaks to the young. He tells them of the Takhald Nëge, song of origination, and the story they would hear. Of how after this year's trek to the south, they would be fully accepted into the tribe, and take their clan name. He takes the skin of lözhan and drinks a gulp from it. The liquid burns his throat fiercely, and settles into his stomach like a pool of fire. He passes it to the foal to his left, who reluctantly sips from the container before passing it on, the drink causing each to mimic the convulsions of the lamb. After every foal had drunk from the skin, Daarö throws the remainder onto the fire, which leaps upward violently. All of the young lean backwards in surprise, and Daarö beats his drum and begins to sing the story.
(Singing example with drum)

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Synopsis

The people of the Yaagkhege prepare for their annual migration to the forests of the south. On the dawn of the day they depart, the tribe's chief shaman Daarö includes the of-age foals in an ancient tradition, sacrificing an aad lamb to the sky god.
For now, it appears the same as any other year...

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(Confirmed) Bestiary Addition! The Aad!

The Aad

The aad are large sheep-like creatures domesticated by the takhal for their skin and horns, which are used in the crafting of tools, as well as a sacrificial subject for religious rituals. They are treated with great reverence.

Like the takhal, they have long, narrow tails that end in tassle-like collections of fur. They have stouter heads and ears than the takhal, and thicker fur. Their hooves are more like sheep or goats than the hooves of the takhal.
The males possess a several foot long pair of curled horns which they shed annually, like antlers.

They have a wild variant, known to the takhal simply as the wild aad, who inhabit the grasslands of the island, as well as some mountainous areas. They are generally smaller than their domesticated counterparts at about 3 feet (1 meter tall), who are about 4 feet (1.2 meters) in height.

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(Confirmed) Deep Lore! Lözhan and the Ikt Grass! The Yaagkhege Steppe!

Lözhan and the Ikt Grass

Lözhan is an alcoholic drink brewed from the grain of ikt grass (in combination with spirits of any number of local plants), a wild grain found primarily in the river basin the Nëju is a part of. The distillation process is complicated and lengthy, and certain compounds endure the process which cause light hallucinogenic affects in the takhal. There are several varieties of the drink, the one distilled for religious purposes being particularly hallucinogenic. On average, it is about 70-80% alcohol by volume.

Takhal names for geographic features

Areas:

The Yaagkhege (Steppe/grassland)
The Nuugkhan (Desert)
The Daanigkhal (Mountain range)
The Nëzhiba (Forest)

Special features:

Daalag Jöm (Mythical place, the tallest mountain in the Daanigkhal, translates to "God's House")

Rivers:

The Nëju
The Debaik
The Rheju

Takhal annual migration

They travel to where the blue arrow is pointing for the fall/winter, and to where the red arrow is pointing for spring/summer.

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[Admiral Jesus]

[Crusader Lord]

Gannor

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Gannor Mountainside
Springtime, 21 C°, Sunny

From the mountainside, it was easy to see where the morning sun arose. Its gentle shining rays pierced into the caves, where some had crammed in their own spaces within divided using wood and stone, through the doorways of the perfectly-fitted stone-laid homes that sat securely upon the mountainside, which had taken much time and labor to build and secure, and so forth. Indeed, the light itself would expose the array of Gannorian homes that sat about, taking on different styles as the large Gannor families had sought out their own living spaces and crafted them with the help of relatives. Over time this had expanded quite a bit on this side of the southern part of the mountains, and beyond the caves and the fitted-stone homes that were most common there was one other type of home farther down the mountainside. These were a few dug into the hillside, where the stone gave way to dirt, mostly shored up with stones from the front and on the inside and inhabited periodically by hunters during the occasional long treks down to hunt and gather further game and resources to supplement what they could gather and use from the mountains.

"Beeeeehhhhhhh!!!"

Among the Ganorian homes where pens had been set up in areas of greenery nearby, the mighty Ramnor let out a bleating cry as the sun rose up. It was a common morning call for those who had only a few generations ago begun to keep herds of the species. Ramnor were a type of mountain goat that the Gannor had long before hunted on the slopes and near the peaks of the mountains and so forth, each bearing two sets of dense bone-hard horns, thick, fluffy fur that made for good pelts, and two sets of eyes which sharply kept a look out for danger. The females had one less set of horns, which was smaller, but that was about the only difference. Long had these creatures been prey, but in truth the idea of keeping them had eventually caught on and now the Gannor would not be the same without them. Hardy creatures that had high stamina and could provide meat and milk and wool aplenty, through much trial and error the shorter race of humanoids had found out how to herd and move them for feeding...as well as how to set up pens to take advantage of the spots of mountain greenery dotted about the landscape they lived upon.

Animal horn had provided handles for weapons, simple wrought shafts upon which blades of stone and flint could be tied using animal sinews to make stone knives. Alongside these to the Gannor used clubs of heavy rocks bound together with plant fibers and animal sinews to crush the skulls of smaller prey or smack meat from larger animals until it was more tender, stone axes with which to cut down trees and harvest the wood for various uses, and even used wood to form the shafts for spears tipped in sharp stone, simple bone (the rarest), or jagged-cut horn spear-tips. More than others tools that could hunt at range, however, more Gannor were more and more using a small pouch of animal hide with two strings attached, spinning them to fling stones (which were all over the place) at great distances and speeds. Some even used two of these 'Kfings' (Gannor for 'slings') to shoot at closer or farther targets and protect herd and practice and so forth.

More so, the meat of the animals was good to taste...even if older Ramnor meat needed a club taken to it for a bit to make it easier to eat over the fire. Even the animal bones, filled with succulent marrow, would be cooked or charred or frankly ground up into powder and used on meat to give it more flavor and seemingly make it even more tender sometimes. The Gannor loved their food and feasts and grand meals, and their inherent curiosity about the world drove them to toy about with things once in a while. Some of these things stuck and became more popular, such as the uses for animal bones and harvesting certain kinds of tasty berries from the mountains at certain times of year, but others, such as using a Ramnor skull as a helmet to headbutt someone else with whilst wearing it, didn't exactly catch on for more obvious and practical reasons. Still, the milk of the Ramnor was something also rather useful, somewhat better for Gannor young and able to be used in a few ways (at least thus far) to provide food for adults as well.

Still, the rumbles of waking females, the light of cooking fires, the hurried movement of males waking the children to assist them, and the rather standard smell of cooking meats and berries and even some plants gathered from the mountains and lower areas trailing through the air were signs that the Gannor were rousing from their slumber. Soon the entire great village would begin to see activity pick up normally as females ate with their families and began to go about their business, though unlike the others today would be a...special one. Indeed, as the females began to assemble and talk and prepare for the day's tasks of guarding, hunting, harvesting, and so forth, a piercing noise rang out over the village alongside the piercing call of a hollowed-out Ramnor horn being blown into. Soon after, many of the females would rush over to where the village chief's home was...where they knew the origin of that hollowed-out horn being blown was.

Standing there, cloaked in a dried and prepared hide from a rare albino Ramnor, was the chief. She stood there at about a 4'11 height, on the taller end of things for a Gannor indeed, a smaller Ramnor skull sitting atop her head ceremonially after having been painted with blackened soot and water mixtures until the bone turned pitch black permanently years ago. In her left hand was held a staff of carved wood, topped in a white rounded stone tied to it and the staves before it after being found in an alcove up in the mountains generations ago. Even so the chief's ruby red eyes would scan over the crowd, ensuring enough of the females had arrived that could before she spoke.

"Long have we lived here, hunting these mountains, traveling its peaks, taking its game, and we have grown much in this time! Yet with the use of the Ramnor, we have begun to need to hunt less so than in times before! Our people have continued to flourish, and now we must place our eyes elsewhere!"

There was a general murmur among the crowd, but before it could rise the chief put a hand up and the crowd of females went silent.

"Long ago I dreamt a dream that our people would cover the world, every mountain, every forest, and even places we have not yet seen for ourselves! Even so, our people will one day grow beyond where we currently are. This cannot be denied, for we have seen it in the world about us for so very long.

Have you not seen how the beasts of the mountain split apart when their pack is too big? Have these groups not gone about where food is best found? So too in time, I feel, we shall be the same. Even if those here can keep us rooted, keep us fed, and keep us well, we must be prepared that our families and young might prosper. We must be ready that these lands are not so alien to us that we cannot survive should the need to go away come.

It is such that I call forth the bravest of hunters, the most clever of our people, and the most wise of our ranks forward! We shall prepare them, and after a great feast send them off to explore to the west and to the east of us! Then let the rest return to hunting and protecting and so forth as the village and its families need, but let one female from each of the houses come forward to serve as we prepare for our people to know the lands beyond this one of our birth!"

Quickly the murmuring returned, then turned to a general sense of agreement as the chief spoke, then after the mention of these great missions to the west and east and the sending off of those going on it with a great feast it turned into a cheering crowd. Sure the idea of a feast was something big, and gained the crowd's approval outright, but at the same time the chief did have a point in the end that the vast majority could agree with. The great village they had was large, populous, and even if they were becoming more rooted to the land they like the animals of the world would not be able to sustain such growth indefinitely.

Already the signs of some crowding were showing, and to look beyond would be a reasonable enough way to find good land to place some of their people on. A second village, as it were, and a third as well at that! Things that would start small, yet grow as they had here. It was simply a practical thing.

And so the females would disperse in a hurry, a portion staying with the chief as myriad others went to spread the news to their families and others who had not been at the meeting. A great hunt would be undertaken, a great gathering would be initiated, and tonight...they would feast to celebrate the growth of their people! Tonight, they would celebrate the trek of their brave ones to scour the land to the east and west!

Only time would tell, however, what the results and consequences of this would be...

Events

Summed up Gannor tech and their very big main village in a nutshell. Introduced the Ramnor species. And the Gannor woke up to the chief basically telling them they'd be sending a couple of parties of hunters and wiser folk out to see the world. One is going to the east, and naturally the other to the west.

(OOC trying to run into others to get some interactions started, etc, so if we timeskip between turns I could fast forward this to when I run into some other peeps. XD)

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Thugal

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Along the River, Thugal Village (Wetlands/Forest/Grasslands)
Springtime, 30 C°, Sunny

Standing above the water of the wetlands were homes wrought of wood, standing on rather thick and strong legs that held them up and away from the murky waters on the southern side of the river. Between these homes were bridges of wood, cut and prepared and secured and wedged into place where even the mighty winds would not shake them loose, with great wooden platforms secured upon great pillars of wood stuck down deep into the waters and ground being interspersed about between every so many homes. This that individuals might meet and speak and talk and move between their homes safely, and move supplies to build their homes that the community would assist with and attach to the ever-growing above-water living space that kept them safe from even the mighty floods the rivers would occasionally dump into these wetlands.

Away from these was also another great wooden platform, yet one that was unlike all the others. It was one with Thugal guard standing beside it with spears wrought of the best wood, stone, bone, and so forth. Upon it was dirt hauled in from the murky waters and land beyond the wetlands, with a great shelter built about it. Yea, even upon this dirt itself was also arrayed something special...growing spores, thick stalks topped in a mushroom cap, and other various stages of the latter half of the long gestation Thugal young underwent before emerging and being 'born'. A sacred and safe place where the community cared for young who could not be seeded and grown the rest of the way in their own homes as said homes were either being built and prepared still or otherwise were absent.

This was the second of two great villages, the other being the first and built just a ways away north into where grasslands and forest met. They had been the second village, diving the large population into two that there would be room to build homes. And here they had built homes, working on them and learning from the mistakes of building them too close to the water. Platforms of river/wetland reeds and wood and bound by plant fibers had been used to get the supplies out there and get them into place, before more could be built up from them and secured. It was work that had taken a long time to stabilize, work on, and build, and accidents and collapses had occurred along the way. Yet this height and advantage was theirs, and at the center of this second village was the Head's large home where the village's meetings were held in front of each day.

Guards protected the communal area where young were grown, as well as the edges of the village, whilst hunters and gatherers set out to search for food to the north, south, and even within the river itself near the edges and within the wetlands. Spears were the most common tool for them to use to stab and piece creatures and beasts and so forth that were being hunted or menaced the village, though handheld tools for throwing spears at a greater distance were commonly in use to hit targets at a range (atlatl/spear throwing tool) and had become common for their ease of use and the great mastery of which one could gain in using them in both villages. Lesser so weapons of hewn and bent wood (bows), with a string of the best animal sinews, were used to fire smaller and more nimble shafts of wood and bone tipped with small spear-tips and feathers from birds of the trees attached to the back of them (arrows). Such weapons were easier to make projectiles for, and had been catching on more in both villages to kill smaller prey items and creatures and more nimble targets, though the spear-thrower was still in use at the same time for larger prey, big threats, and hitting targets harder and so forth. In other words, each tool/weapon had their place and had taken a role and niche among the Thugal.

And having such weapons seemed more important lately than they had been before. There were reports from hunters who ventured out a bit farther that great beasts with two hoofed legs and more were running about the grasslands. It had been knowledge for some time, leading to the second village being built a long time ago over the wetlands and river. Things could not run well in this, that much they knew from experience, and so it seemed 'safer' in a sense. Even the main village, however, had already been sticking many a log of wood into the ground to surround the village, sharpening the tips and securing them and shoring them up with earth on both sides to keep them in-place to keep out beasts. Still, since there had been no run-ins there was nothing to fear, and save for preparing safety ahead of time the fungal species had been rather relaxed about it all. Life, in truth, had continued on as normal in both of the villages and homes within. Yet today, of all days, a sort of change could be smelled as it wafted in upon the morning breeze...

"Village Head, Village Head!"

A worried voice shouted into the home of the Village Head, who after a light grumble stood up and came to the door.

The Village Head, with her white-spotted red cap and all, was donned in a scaly animal pelt over some of herself, clothing not much of herself as was the case with all Thugal clothing being very barebones and simple, and likewise a stone-head spear decorated in designs on its shaft and feathers secured near the tip designated the Village Head from others...and as always ready to fight for her people as well as to lead them. Still, her clay-red eyes looked upon the worried messenger before her. The yellow-capped black-striped Thugal before her was huffing and puffing, notable haste and worry in her eyes.

The chief's eyes narrowed.

"What is the matter? Are we in danger?"

"There is a messenger from the other village, who has run all the way here! They bear an urgent message from the other Village Head!"

An urgent message from the other village? This could be very important as such hasty messages were not sent lightly among the Thugal. Never. It had been agreed upon when the second village was founded even.

Thus giving a nod and gesture for the villager to lead the way, the Village Head followed her over the bridges and past the meeting-places until she reached the rather large wooden ramp-bridge that led into the village from the far bank of the grasslands. It would be here that the chief would see a plain tan-capped Thugal standing there, huffing and puffing as about four of the villagers were trying to help her cool off and giving her some water. She looked horrendously exhausted, though as the Village Head approached she tried to stand back up...only to sit back on the ground at the insistence of the villagers with her.

"Sit, you have traveled a long way in such haste. If you need food, we will provide you a meal and shelter to rest before you return.

Now speak. I am the Head of this village, and I have bene told you bring a message."

The tan-capped messenger nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath and summing up some energy before beginning to speak between ragged breaths.

"Our Village Head...wants to inform you...that we have seen the Iht'mal (hoof-legs) wander closer....to our village than ever before. We desire....you send representatrives...so we can....investigate them....lest we expose...all to a potential danger. That is my message..."

The messenger coughed hard after speaking, though the Village Head simply motioned into the village with her spear as she addressed the guards and few villagers there.

"Take her into the village, give her rest and her meal. Then send word about the village for our Ki'tae (hunters-of-land) to assemble before my home, but not the Ki'toh (hunters-of-water) or Ki'tohra (hunters-of-water's-edge). Make it known this is an important matter, and they must come at once so we may prepare for the morrow'.

So I have said, so make it be."

Nodding, the villagers (including the one who led the Village Head there) began to pick up the messenger to carry as two of the guards took off running deeper into the village. Soon there would be a flurry of activity as the hunters assembled and such, and yet...the Village Head found herself taking a second to look out at the grassland plains beyond for a moment. The breeze blew past her face and rustled the hardy grasses, yet after looking out into nothing she simply sighed again and turned to go back into the village.

Hopefully things would not go bad with this endeavor.

Events

Gave a brief look at the second of two Thugal Villages, this one built over water, as well as some of their tech in a sense and how they get food and so forth.

Had a messenger from the first village arrive at the second one, bringing a message that the "hoofed-legs" (Takhal) have been noticed from afar wandering closer to where the first Thugal village is. Not wanting to risk anything too much, the first Village Head has invited the second to send help so they can form a party to investigate the "hoofed-legs" in final to see why they wander closer and if there's a worrisome reason for it and so forth. Thugal have no idea yet the Takhal are a sentient species and not just beasts wandering the grasslands near the first Thugal village.

[Dog]

Somewhere in the University for the Sciences of Anthropology, Political Science, and History

A camera crew sits themselves in the office of Dr. Brown, the lead professor for the Department of Anthropology at the university. Issa, the interviewer and overall project for the documentary, is the closest person near Dr. Brown with his seating just a few meters away from his oak desk. Issa moves his hands and gets a microphone near Dr. Brown’s mouth. The sound-man checks the audio equipment and settings before he gives the ok-sign.

“How are you, Dr. Brown?” Issa starts off.

“I’m good. I’m good. Happy to be here,” Dr. Brown gives a big warm smile as he folds his hands onto the desk.

“I would like to ask a few questions about early human civilization. Could you just give a small overview of them?” Issa inquires.

“Glad you asked. The earliest evidence of human civilization dates back around six thousand five hundred years ago. More specifically, I’ll focus on the people of Machaka. At this time, at the end-stage of the neolithic age, we can see the adoption of agriculture and sedentary society. This development was mainly focused around the Shani Delta - becoming the cradle of human civilization.”

“Can you go into more detail about Machaka and its society?” Issa asks.

“Of course. The formation of hierarchy and government was very much still in its youth. The closest thing that you’ll get was a grand council of elders that would talk about important issues. This would later be the staging place for early human government and politics, but that is much later down in the history of Machaka. Early religion was focused on the sun, moon, and river. Marini was the sun god. Nia was the moon god, and Eshe was the river god,” Dr. Brown pauses for a second, uncapping a bottle of water to drink. He continues.

“It would be important to also note that agriculture was still developing. A lot of people still had to hunt and gather food to fulfill their daily needs. Fun fact, we now know that the first crop grown was in fact barley. Moving on, I would like to share the daily activity of an average human at this time period,” Dr. Brown pauses to think.

“Let’s call our person...Josh. Josh normally woke up as the sun demanded. Next, he would go outside and pray to Marini. After that, Josh tasked himself to either gather or hunt down food. If not that then he would trend to the fields. It’s important to note that this society was still largely egalitarian, and the roles of man and women were largely the same. The humans of Machaka only ate two meals a day - one in the noon and one near sundown. Once their duties were done then they had their free time and did whatever they wanted for the rest of the day,” Dr. Brown states.

“Thank you for your insight. One last question. How did the people of Machaka advance?” Issa wonders.

“Good question. The humans of Machaka largely focused on developing their agriculture, focusing on gaining better yields of grains. The barley that you know today is largely due to their investments of breeding. With new yields of crops, they eventually developed photo-writing and then the concept of numbers,” Dr. Brown notes.

[Willy Vereb]

GUARNI

Titanic beginnings

"Once before time the Seven Divines existed. They had a harmonious yet unsatisfied life. To alleviate their eternal boredom they created the sky, a vast infinite realm, and populated it with countless stars, the Aesur. They could not move, and only speak through their radiance. The Seven Divines found this good but the Aesur wanted to destroy their chains and chose to rebel against their creators. This war lasted eons but ultimately the Aesur triumphed, rendering the Seven Divines powerless to oppose them. With their newfound freedom they created many new worlds, including our land of Midurd. Yet they could not finish this task alone, they needed helpers. They created numerous races, slaves to the Aesur with the task of shaping the world. Among the first of these creations were the Guarni, giants taller than the tallest mountains. Our very steps parted the seas and created new mountains. Over the time many other races, animals and plants spread across Midurd. Yet this peace would not last. Unwilling to be treated like the lower races the titans, including the Guarni, rebelled against their creators This heralded the beginning of the devastating Titan War. The dry land, once whole, split into many pieces and the Guarni-led titans were slaughtered. The survivors were henceforth stripped from their former size and power, with the very Sun (Malawun) being their eternal jailor. Malawun is a benevolent yet strict god who bestows gifts upon Midurd yet punishes those with overt ambitions. His shine grows the fields, spreads life and fills the heart. Yet this very light also robs us of our true power. Ever since the Titan War the Guarni live in punishment, forced to struggle in the same dirt as lower races do. The Sun shall be a reminder of our folly and shame. Yet not all hope is lost. Ogynn, the first of the first giants, is alive and continues the fight. He hides deep within Midurd, beneath 777 layers. His gifts are subtle yet present everywhere. He is our All-Father, our beloved ancestor."

Carnog the Eldest concluded his tale. The blind old giant sat in front of the pyre, seeking its wrathm. His son Eadan already took over his responsibility as remembrancer of the entire tribe. Yet the old Carnog still liked his tales. The eon old giant was supposedly the grandson of the legendary Gargat, a minor actor during the Titan War. Carnog was just a child when winters been long and ardous, when food was scarce and families divided. He was present when the once scattered Guarni families united under a single tribe and he actively participated in the grand task of retrieving the tales and legends of his kin. He was an old man from a time when Guarni died young. It's been a great many seasons since the old Carnog could even walk more than a few steps without assistance but the people respected him.

Yet being respected and leading the tribe was two different matters. The Guarni tribe always followed the mightiest warrior, the strongest fighter whom they titled as the Kaano, the one rule above all. His name was Baldar, his towering 34 feet tall figure and muscular build alone was enough to discourage anyone to challenge him. He was the strongest of the tribe and his orders were the law. Baldar had a large family of three wives who were tasked to manage the tribe's daily lives. As the strongest fighter Baldar had a reputation to maintain. He participated in big hunts, headed raids and wanted to take all the riches. As such the Guarni life in the village was dictated by the whims of three women. Brynja was a hardy matron and Baldar's first wife. She was so far the only wife providing Baldar with a heir so she enjoyed special status. Frida was the youngest of the three with intellect and knowledge which belied her age. Ingerd was the most down to earth of the three who often worked with the rest of the tribe and kept everything in order. Without these three the village doubtlessly would've never gotten this far.

Speaking of which, the village itself was massive in size for only 47 adult members. The perimeter were surrounded by earthen walls 4 meters tall, insufficient to keep out a fellow Guarni but more than enough to protect against animals. Thanks to this they didn't require gates, you could just walk past it. The most obvious sight to visitors were the gigantic yurts, tent-like structures made of felt with wooden reinforcements. Though appropriately giant in size these tents had a secret, they were rarely built on level ground. More often than not the construction began by digging a (by human standards) deep hole thus giving more space to leave in. Felt was valuable afterall. The reason behind this particular choice was simple, the Guarni were semi-nomads. They practice agriculture and keep animals but they never remain in the same place for long. Once the fields deplete of their nutrients they harvest everything, gather up the seeds, slaughter all animals and leave for the next place.

Yet covering the basic infrastructure of the Guarni misses a very important aspect of their lives which is art. While vibrant colors are rare to come by the Guarni loves their statues. Wooden carvings, totem columns representing the Guarni image of the world are practically everywhere. The center of the Guarni village contains a towering obelisk, taller than anything else. This piece been carved up just after the Guarni settle down in a region. It contains symbols, drawings and simple writing depicting Guarni culture and eventually be filled with the life of the villagers spent here. According to their creation myth the Guarni once were part of the titanic races who shaped the very mountains. The obelisks symbolize their past and serve as reminders of their presence in the region. Their sturdy construction means they shall remain for eons for other races to see. In rare times when they settle in an especially abundant region the Guarni gets more creative and they create megaliths, an arrangement of multiple huge pieces of rock meant to represent their understanding of the world. Races who pass these stone structures would know one thing: they are treading into the region of giants.

Actions:

• The Guarni settled down in the mountain plateau
• Hunters gather new animals to breed and domesticate for their stay
• They are also looking for animal companions to help herding the animals and guard their sleep
• Encounter with other sapient race would be also encouraged

[DX3214]

Adarnians

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, Navbera Çeman

As the sun rises in the horizon and the starlily veil hides behind the blue skies the Adarnian village begun to wake up sat beside a small river surrounded by the temperate woods of Navbera Çeman people begun to start the work of the day being a small crawl to begin as their nature slowed then down by a little as the sun was shining in the horizon someone sat on top of a small hill in distance from the Adarnian village seeing the moon fading slightly with the blue sky taking prevalence and the small stars that are still visible in the fading dark in the opposite side of the sun she took a sigh before her relaxed stopped by the feeling someone hitting her head with a gentle punch on top of her head dodging her horns, looking up seeing her father the chief of the tribe she then said small worry “what is it father” He then said “you look too much Şev and Roj sometimes Sahdina ” she look forward again “They our gods they created this world so wish to contemplate then when they are together” a small chuckle came out of him hearing that story he told long ago he then said “may the spirits guide your faith well girl” she found that quote odd while she understood the animal spirit she thought what would Şev and Roj be spirits or something else her mind thinked about the nature of the spirits.

After the sun finally was high in the risk the village was now bustling with life as people tended to small gardens with fruits, some collecting clay from the river to make rudimentary pottery to hold water or some food for later meanwhile in the woods Sahdina walked with a hunting group through the forest a quicker strapped to her back and bow and arrow in hand walking carefully in the woods listening to the sounds and lying quietly in the ground while watching a small patch of open ground she then saw a Lepus leaving a bush standing in the open grass her eyes growing shaper and she draw sat her bow down for a moment time seemed to stand still she approached very slowly trying to grab one of then until a rowar in the distance made her jump the Lepus seeing her running away she groaned seeing that it was hard catching those pesky things when they appear for once a second howl was soon heard as she heard it her eyes widened saying “Triachs” she immediately rushed towards the howl worried for a moment.

As he runned through the woods seeing four Adarnians one with his leg wounded as she approached more she saw a pack of at least 19 Triachs from her limited view in front being fend off by the other 3 while in a small retreat by a few steps by what she could notice looking at the area her eyes glanced over to a Triach starting to go around slowly go around their wall of spears with quick reflexes she put an arrow into her bow and shot at the Triach aiming for its head but hitting its shoulder making it jump back with a holw she then holsters the bow quickly and rushes towards then and grabbing the spear of the wounded person she then said standing beside then “How did you got into this?” one of then says charging the spear to make the Triachs stay back “we walked straight into then by the time we noticed it was too late” Looking around seeing the wounded person and the Triachs at front the world seems slow to her thinking for a moment she then says to herself out loud “Roj... Şev. Give us strength!” the other three hearing this then look up seeing the light breaching through the trees branches almost say “May Roj (Sun) Aid us” the three soon rushed forward spears pointed and started stabbing the creatures pulling knives kicking and punching grabbing flint knives and swinging as Sahdina punched and swinged her knife and grabbed her already broken spear and smacked into the face of Triach it seemed like they don't stop coming from around seeing a Triach charging she grabbed her already quite loose knife and stab it in the head making it fall to the ground after a moment of silence she looked around there were 15 bodies of Triachs around she looked back seeing the 3 she then said “Are you guys okay?”

They looked at each other and nodded looking at herself she just had some small cuts she smiled for a moment and looked up seeing the warm rays of the sun bathing her she then said “Roj and Sev thank you” The three soon begin to return to the camp and with it the tale of the story while the Adarnians are not odd with the concept of divinities majorly towards the spirits but after that day a new idea came up the gods Roj and Sev the sun and the moon forgers of our world a new religion is on the rise. While faiths begin to slowly form the Adarnians also slowly begun to improve their means attempting to domesticate the small animals of the forest while at the same time domesticating plants and others for better food sources in attempts to make the work less hard for than a race that for now is slowly growing to the southeast meanwhile sightings of skittermander begin to appear to those who flow the rivers eastward or venture to the east.

Actions this turn

religious development of the Adarnians towards a new religion
Domestication of animals
Agricultural development

[6slyboy6]

Changing Times

It was a time before time, when the first of us woke from our slumber. It was a long, arduous sleep filled with living nightmares and a constant unease in our minds. But then, we felt that call, that touch that sent a shiver coursing through our bodies and made us open our eyes. It was a feeling we knew we shared but couldn't explain the best we tried: we just felt it. On that morning when we left our homes we knew that there was something out there that had beckoned to us and changed us so we would seek it out. We didn't know if it was good or bad, but we didn't hesitate to pursue it. Little did we know that it would be our undoing hundreds of years later...

- Forgotten Mural Site

---

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???

On the steppes of the Takhal~

The ground shakes and the air trembles. A rumbling sound accompanies the beating of the drums as Daarö sings his song and the younglings listen to his tale. Yet there is a certain calmness in the air that cannot be explained in face of the ever intensifying beating of drums that all can hear and feel, their blood boiling within their veins even as chills run down their spines. As the song draws near it's end, the fire roars to life and begins to dance in vibrant colors, forming shapes never before seen to the young Takhal. It's powerful and intense, but it's oddly soothing at the same time as it enchants the eye.

Then the song comes to an end, and the fire hisses one last time before it returns to the way it was, crackling away quietly into the wind. Now they start to notice it: the wind has picked up as it rushes past them, blowing air at the fire and making it roar to life once more. Then hisses began to fill the air, and soon enough the first droplets of rain began to appear on the arms and legs of the Takhal. The sky is shrouded with clouds that darken even though it was clear not long ago. As the rain began to fall, the fire begins to crackle and dwindle in brightness as the approaching storm begins to soak the logs. There will be no fire here for the night, but there will be moment to remember for the Takhal young who listened to the song of Daarö.

---

In the swamps of the Sobek~

Unbeknownst to the group bickering over the skull of a Krollan, one of the Sobek hunters had made a discovery that would prove to be most interesting to even the most stubborn of the elders. Returning from his hunt late, distracted by prey he now brings on his back, the young hunter speaks of a cave the shone through the mist and the bushes covering the marshy lands around it. Nestled under a large mangrove that rivalled the largest they had seen, within the upturned boulders was a gleaming surface of green and azure that blended in with the undergrowth under the shadow, but as the sun shone on it it would make even the sobek hunter squint. It was like they had seen before: boulders moved in front of a cave to obscure it, the hiding spot of many Koibras where they consume their prey and lay their eggs. But these boulders were different as they reflected the light, their green and blue colors mesmerizing even the wildlife.

Within it's murky and dark depths laid a cave of not a Koibra, but a pack of Stillios who have made it their home. An unfortunate turn of events for the Koibra who might return to the nest in the next rainy season, but great news for the young hunter: his prey a young lizard impaled by spears and bit by sharp teeth, to serve as both a warning to Stillio and a relief for the Sobek that a mighty beast was not the inhabitant of the cave so close to the border of their hunting grounds. Perhaps a place worth visiting once more with a party of hunters.

---

Over the skies of the Gannor expedition~

The night had passed and the feast was held in honor of the hunters who would leave the village of the Gannor to seek out new and prosperous lands for their kin to settle and call their new home. The party venturing West was making great strides, their path unhampered by the forests the team heading east would have to face. The air was thin on the plateau and the snow covered peak shone brightly in the sun behind them, while the pines along the spine of the hill they descended on yielded softly to the cold wind the blew over the land.

A shadow slowly passed over them, and none bat an eye as the morning had brought clouds along with them that would often obscure the sky. But as quickly as it came it disappeared, and before they had a chance to look at the sky a deafening screech filled the air and shook the ground below them. They now stood in the shadow of a giant winged figure that obscured the sun, it's wings so expansive that they might as well have extended from horizon to horizon. All the Gannor knew the tales of the birds who would snatch people and animals alike, but few have ventured far enough to warrant such an attention. But now, they were face to face with a mighty Ruh, as it bore it's sharp claws at them and then began it's steep dive to attack the intruders that have encroached upon it's lands.

---

Under the murky depths of the Thugal village~

The water below the elevated village of the Thugal laid dormant for now, but not all was well with the water. The surface covered in thick foliage, little fish swam near the village to be caught. Even some of the larger predators of these marshy areas avoided the village, including the mighty Koibras and serpents that would have no trouble dealing with the ill-armed defenders of the village. But it wasn't for the fact that the Thugal were such a nuisance that the waters were devoid of animals, but rather something that the mushrooms would find it very soon.

There was a deafening crack, like a bolt of lightning that had struck near the village, yet the skies were clear of any clouds. Then a moment later another one, and the wooden supports shook violently along the edge of the village. One of the houses began to slowly list before splinters flew everywhere and to the sound of one last deafening crack the entire thing fell into the water, creating an explosion of water that sent droplets across the entire village. The ripples in the water were quickly absorbed the nearby plants, but on the spot of the once-standing house was now a large pile of debris that was cleared of plants that the structure had brought under. But as the last of the bubbles began to disappear, something else began to rise: flakes of silvery material that floated on the surface of the water, clumping together slowly and forming a shining spectacle in the sunlight to those who were preparing to retrieve what could be retrieved from the building. Perhaps an error on their fault creating the house... perhaps something else worth investigating.

---

Carved into the rocks of the Guarni~

A tale as old as time, all the Guarni have heard the tales of Carnog a dozen times, but it always inspired them of what was and what could be. Of a time when they ruled nature and not get ruled by it, and of a time when they will once more rule over the lesser races like the gods that had created them and cast them down to this realm. But for hundreds of years those tales have been told with no-one bringing about a change, and the hopes of reclaiming their ancestral place above others were shadowed by the needs of food and shelter, even if the Guarni had come a long way since the eons they've spent on this earth.

But as the sun rose and began another day on the island, some of the Guarni had spotted something strange in the nearby hills whilst looking for animals to capture and domesticate for their stay: a formation of rocks that were out of place even in the rugged terrain of their home.

The trip to the formation was unpleasant at the very least, even the large bodies of the giants taking considerable time to reach the stone murial that laid nestled above a rocky outcrop a few hundred feet above their village. It was easy to miss due to the face of the rock hiding the murial and the sun setting on the other side of the mountain and casting shade of these parts of the cliffside, but here it now laid before the giants. A familiar sight to any Guarni, yet distinct in it's own way to make them question if it was one of theirs from so long ago even their oldest remembrancer couldn't recall. Upon the largest boulder that perched upon the top of a pile of smaller rocks, there was a carving of unmistakably giant origin that depicted what looked like people eerily similar to the Guarni, standing atop a large mountain and towering over a crowd of smaller, hooded figurines that were offering bowls of food, animals and other items to the central figures. Perhaps the creation of a Guarni from so many winters ago most didn't remember, the peculiar nature of this giant carving was certainly worth investigating by the wisest amongst them.

---

@Willy Vereb@Crusader Lord@rezay@Klomster

[DELETED32084]

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, Deep Harbour

"Let the challenger stand forth!" The acclamation was greeted by the thunder of a hundred log drums as Merdhrai wielded wooden clubs with a steady and rhythmic beat. Seashell horns made from the corpses of massive sea snails droned out a haunting huuuuuun that echoed over the barbaric scene unfolding in the small clearing.

Deep amid towering trees and surrounded on all sides by a mighty river delta, the Challengers Circle waited the coming battle. A space some forty space lengths wide had been cleared in the deepest part of the delta. In its centre a deep hole had been dug and four trenches dug to channel water into it. A circle of black stone had been set four spear lengths from either side of the hole, leaving the rest of the space to be filled by the hundreds of Merdhrai who swayed and chanted with the beat of the drummers. To the humans who hunted the delta, the strange and menacing music was warning enough not to stray far into the watery expanse.

No torches existed here, not in this place of the Merdhrai, only the bright moon above served to light the space and the still waters of the centre pool appeared inky black beneath a surface turned to burnished silver. This was a battle of the strongest and most cunning of their kind, a struggle to be named Skipper of the Merdhrai, the highest position among their kind.

"Riverjack!" The roar came from hundreds of throats as a tall brawny male, nearly four and half feet tall, stepped from the crowd and into the black stones. His brown fur rippled as he flexed impressive muscles and expertly spun a long wooden spear shaft between his paws. The current Skipper of the Merdhrai was an impressive figure though greying fur around his muzzle showed he past his prime.

"Streambattle!" This cry heralded the arrival of a smaller female who bounded into the circle on all fours, her long tail slapping the ground with excitement. Fur nearly as black as night was pierced by a pair of savage looking eyes and white teeth flashed in the darkness.

There was no further need of an announcer, all present knew what must come next. The two would fight and the first to be killed, knocked unconscious, or thrown from the black stones, would be the loser.

Riverjack eyed his opponent carefully through half lidded eyes even as she circled toward him. The attack, when it came, was blindingly fast as she rushed him down low. Despite their ability to walk on two legs, the Merdhrai were most dangerous when they resorted to their most primal fighting methods. Dangerous, unless their opponent was more experienced.

The heavy stick flashed in the moonlight, its bone white colour easy to track, and the crowd roared their appreciation as it slammed into Streambattles shoulder to send the smaller Merdhrai sliding across the ground toward the silvery pool.

In an instant the bigger fighter dropped his stick and lunged, using his weight to tackle his smaller opponent into the pool. Water exploded into the air like a thousand small moonstones as the two shapes blew the clam surface apart.

Down into the blackness they went as Streambattle fought to regain her breath from the blow. Riverjack, wise in the ways of war, clamped his teeth over the back of her neck and bit down hard enough to pierce the thick fur. Streambattle opened her mouth to cry out and inhaled water at once.

The Merdhrai were meant for the water, they gloried in it, but even they couldn't live by breathing in water. In an instant the fight was forgotten as Streambattle struggled frantically to try and escape toward the surface and the moon directly above, a silver orb that seemed to grow smaller as Riverjack drove her deeper.

When she regained consciousness she was lying on the edge of the Challengers Circle, just beyond the black stones. The night was quiet, the crowds gone, the drums silent. Only her mother, Riverjacks first wife, remained crouched on her hind legs, watching her daughter intently for a moment before speaking.

"Well, did you prove your point?"

Streambattle rubbed the back of her neck, the terror of her near drowning fresh with the pain that still throbbed there. She nodded slowly.

"Aye, he's a tough old bastard."

"Next time, Streambattle, he will kill you."

She did not doubt that at all.

[Klomster]

The path of the future open up, and it is blinding.

The path of the future open up, and it is blinding.

Day ?, Week ?, Cycle ?
Sobek marshlands.
Springtime, 32 C*, Sunny

Arriving post sundown after the butchering of the krollan had completed was the hunter Gar. Perhaps the most skilled of the hunters of the Sobek, carrying a large lizard, a couple of metres counting the tail, over his shoulders.
Gar was more wiry than other Sobek, he was also smaller than many Sobek being only around 50. His lanky build compared to other Sobek however didn't mean he looked weak or wiry. He just had thinner and much more sinewy muscles.
The term 'lean mean killing machine' was apt and Gar used his lighter weight to sneak unnoticed and ambush prey.

Ata and Gar was friends and upon noticing his kin arrive late, Ata stopped looking at the sky and went to him.
-"Successful hunt i see, how are you?" Gar smirked and lowered the dead lizard to the ground before answering.
-"Hardly, only this small lizard, but it's an interesting story about it." Gar almost sighed, Ata quizzically looking at him when he began telling his story.
-"Under a mangrove, largest i ever saw. Was odd rocks used to construct a Koibra nest. You know how they prefer the ones they can close? But the boulders, magnificent! They caught the sun and shone in turquoise, it was blinding so i even had to squint my eyes.
Some of the animals about looked with awe at the shining rocks." Gar sat down and dried off his neck with a piece of moss. Ata was listening intently and nodded.
-"It was there i saw this blighter, inside the cave. So i snuck up and pinned it in place with a bola toss, before leaping in and impaling it. There were tracks, bones and feces, Stillio. They had taken this cave as their home.
There was another lizard there, a young Stillio. I tossed my spear at it and displayed it at the door. Then brought this back.
It seems they were out hunting, but they will doubtlessly return."
Gar was pleased with his story here and was waiting for Ata's usual questions of the kill. As he waited a puddle jumper began to nibble at the carcass, Gar chucked it inside a pot and closed the lid on it. Looking back at Ata expecting something else instead Ata asked.
-"So what do you think the gleaming rock was?"
-".... no idea, strange rock. It was the sun that made it shine."
-"Do you think we could do something interesting with it?" Ata was smiling and looking dreamingly to the night sky. Gar was honestly confused with his antics, he also noticed Ata's large bruise.
-"How did you get that? You're hardly one to get into fights."
Ata shook his head and answered after some hesitation.
-"Thrûl, he does not approve of me taking the title of first speaker. When i thanked a krollan for its sacrifice he hit me with his staff."
Gar listened with a confused look on his face. After a while his curiosity caught up.
-"Soooo.... why were you thanking a krollan for its sacrifice? And what is a speaker?" After this Ata shone up and beaming with pride gave his answer.
-"I thanked it for its death gives us life. And a speaker, is the one that speaks what the Sobek think, a speaker gives words to what is without name, a speaker asks questions when none else will ask them! I am Ata, i am the first speaker!" Ata was gesturing with his arms and beaming with pride, finally having found his calling. His audience however was a hard sell and gave him a look like he was actually insane.
Ata went on.
-"Have you not wondered why the lights in the sky shine? Why the sun is warm or why the spear is sharp? Why some are born and why some die? Have you not thought of this?"
Gar looked for a while at Ata before answering, with a literal raised eyebrow.
-"I know one of those, the spear is sharp because i sharpened it."
-"But why did you sharpen it?"
-"So it cuts better."
-"Ah, but why does it cut better?"
-"Because i sharpened it?" Gar was beginning to raise his eyebrow again.
-"But why is it sharp after you sharpen it?"
-"I see why Thrûl hit you...." Gar said with a hint of annoyance but them both being used to their banter knew that it was just that.
Ata smiled contently, Gar spoke again.
-"Honestly you were always an odd one Ata, but i'm happy you found what you want to do. I don't know if a speaker is something the Sobek need, guess you need to prove we need one then." Ata set his hand on Gars shoulder and looking to the sky said.
-"I will prove them, i will show them the Sobek need a speaker..."

The next day.
It was a day like all others, Thrûl was overseeing todays plans, Grazh was gathering his hunters and the large village was abuzz with activity. As Gar walked past with his kill to go to the skinning area Ata shouted so everyone could hear.
-"Hear me! For i am the first speaker! Gar has something you should hear!"
Thrûl was ready to hit Ata again for his insolence but Grazh got in the way, however turned to Ata and with his deep growling voice angrily addressed him.
-"Didn't i tell you to keep that to yourself? Do not come up with nonsense that has no importance in the planning of today."
Ata was almost cowering, Grazh a massive over 3 meter tall male, easily the strongest in the village and perhaps strongest of all Sobek. But he took heart to himself and puffed up as much as possible in front on the massive male.
-"I have not brought up nonsense, Gar has made an amazing discovery the elder should hear off!" The fear in his voice expertly hidden, but still noticeable. He kept going.
-"Go on Gar, tell them the story you told me yesterday!" Gar was terrified to suddenly be part of this engagement between the village elder and the great hunter of the Sobek. But he did speak.
-"I... i don't think it's... that important."
Ata looked over at him, so did the others, then they turned to Ata, then back to Gar.
-"Well, Ata here thinks it is important enough to bring up during todays planning, SO TELL IT!" Grazh intimidated Gar into submission and had clearly woken up on the wrong side of the moss-bed today.
-"YES GREAT HUNTER! I... i saw this mangrove... biggest i ever saw....."
Gar told the story, everyone listened.
When he was done there was a silence, eventually broken by Thrûl.
-"So you would claim, boy, that this hunting story with young Gar being blinded by watery rocks and killing two little lizards is worth stopping the entire day of work for!? You are sorely mistaken little one!"
The old Thrûl now walking up to Ata, Grazh giving him way out of respect, the gait and blazing anger in his eyes told that he would not be kind to Ata and Ata shook in fear.
-"STOP THIS NONSENSE!" A voice boomed out, everyone stopped to look, even Thrûl, whom answered.
-"Who interrupts my judgement?"
The speaker stepped forth, a heavy built middle age Sobek male with a brownish grey colour.
-"I am vorak, the maker! Let not your anger blind you to what possibility the young one saw."
Taken aback Thrûl regained his posture and turned towards Vorak.
-"He saw water on a rock glistening in the sun!" He spat. Vorak countered with.
-"Water does not glisten in turquoise, nor does it mesmerize the animals of the swamp, have anger blinded you judgement elder?"

Vorak was playing a dangerous game here, Thrûl as the oldest in the village was strong and wise, to question his wisdom was a clear challenge to his authority. Ata was petrified with fear and didn't understand why Vorak was standing up for him, but was glad he did.
-"Watch that tongue maker Vorak. You only have one! Now why should i not wring the life out of this so called 'speaker'" The word speaker spoken with such spite that he visibly spat.
-"He stands for what he believes, something all Sobek should do. He believes there's something important to this story. Let him state it, for i think i know what it is." Vorak's words were strong and had force to them. Thrûl turned to Ata before saying.
-"Very well maker Vorak, now BOY Ata, do tell us what it is in this story that we should know."
Ata swallowed hard.
-"Yes... elder Thrûl... i believe this rock... hold great possibilities." He was staring the massive elder into the eyes, Ata's eyes wavering while Thrûl's were still and intense. Ata kept going.
-"Imagine if it can be carved, or... be hewn into even sharper spears? Or... the makers can make... something even better with it?" As Ata was wavering Thrûl stepped in and Ata instinctively backed off. The massive male was now growling.

Several moments passed. Several long moments.
-"Very well Boy! Go and see if these rocks hold value. But if their only value is looking interesting you will be exiled! For insolence! Now go! Take hunter Gar with you! Claim us these 'treasures' you speak of!" Thrûl's voice was calmer but had such force that Ata could swear they shook his insides.
With hasty nods Ata and Gar scurried off and disappeared into the woods. Thrûl shouted after them so they could hear.
-"And do not come back without this 'treasure', do not dare come back!"

Treasure hunt.
-"Ata, do you know that i hate you?"
-"Please, not now, it's not helping." Ata's answer was shameful and low. Gar was more angry about the situation than at Ata, but it was Ata who had gotten him into this mess.
Gar was expertly guiding the way to the cave, it took several hours to reach the site.

After reaching the cave the two Sobek hid nearby out of sight and were looking at it. Several large Stillio lazily moving about inside the cave and one going by outside, sniffing the dead Stillio hung up on the entrance.
-"I thought you said they were out hunting?" Ata asked disappointedly in a whispered voice.
-"Well obviously they are back now!" Biting whispered words Gar's response.
-"How are we gonna defeat them?"
-"I dunno, perhaps use your 'speaker powers' to command them to leave, perhaps bore them to death with questions."
-"Oh shut it!..." Ata's response was a bit hurt, but he knew he did deserve a lot of this. He didn't mean for Gar to get into trouble.

The two were sitting there looking at the rocks, they gleamed with turquoise and flakes of something they had never seen before, it seemed to shine like the sun after the Stillio scratched their hides upon its surface.
-"You weren't kidding." Ata said with a clear fascination.
-"Why would i? You should have seen it yesterday, the midday sun was at its peak and no clouds in the way." Gar was calming down by now. Both speaking in whispered voices.
-"... i have an idea." Ata retreated.
-"What is it?" Gar asked when he joined him out of sight from the cave. Ata began to gather grass and moss. And ordered Gar.
-"Get firestarting bark."
-"You know i am your senior right?" Gar gave a skeptical look. Ata bit back with the words.
-"Oh not now, do you want to fight them all? No? Get a fire going."
Ata and Gar got a fire going, Ata also made a large ball of moss and wet grass that he bound together with vines. Gar was constantly skeptical of Ata's fascination with fire but he seemed to have a clear idea.
After some time, Ata set fire to the inside of the ball, which began to smoke, soon it belched with thick grey smoke. It began to get so much that it was hard to see.
-"Great, now we can't see..." Gar gave one of his banters. Ata snapped back.
-"Oh shut it, help me carry."
The two of them began to carry the smoke belching ball of moss and grasses with two sticks run through it, towards the cave.

Gar was frantically trying to keep track of the Stillio and to see the extent of how mad Ata had gone, he glimpsed Ata's focused determination and was inspired to follow.
When they got closer to the cave, the Stillio began hissing and standing up. Their fronts low and their hind legs high, ready to pounce.
But holding them back was the smell of fire, the smoke of fire.
Soon their instincts took over, backing off more and more and soon the entire pack was scurrying off into the woods as the cave was beginning to fill with smoke.
-"Ata, you're a genius, you know i always say that right?" Gar said, in a half joking manner.
-"We don't have much time, help me get some of the gleaming rock!"

The two worked, coughing from the eye watering mire smelling smoke which still filled the area but less and less with each moment.
Hitting rock trying to get a lump loose.
The smoke began to subside more and more, soon a strong wind blew away the last of it as the ball had fallen apart on the ground.
The calls of the Stillio was closing in and with a crack, Gar got a nice lump of colourful rock, the size of a puddle jumper.

They ran, they had the rock! They could return to the village.

TL;DR

Ata hears the story of his hunt from Gar, interested in the mysterious stone mentioned he bring it up to Thrûl.
A heated argument ensues where Ata's life or continued existence in the village was at stake, Thrûl is convinced by Vorak the maker to let Ata and Gar go and get some of the stone.

The two use cunning and stealth to get hold of some of the stone. But unable to kill the pack of Stillio guarding the cave where the rock resides.

[6slyboy6]

Changing Times - Part 2

When the tribes left us, we had nowhere to go. So we formed our own tribe, a band of outcasts with a common goal. Little did we know that only our names would be remembered for the eons at the time, and we set out with dread weighing heavy on us, but the spirit of freedom keeping us moving forward. None of us really knew what it was that we were searching, but that was soon about to change when we made the first, and perhaps most important discovery of our millennia long journey...

- Forgotten Mural Site

---

In the forests of the Adarnians~

One encounter with the Triachs was clearly not enough for fate. Laying in wait, pairs of eyes followed every movement that the hunting parties of the tall Adarnians made all over the forest. Waiting for the right moment to strike, a moment that came once the hunting parties had left the village for a day. Then suddenly, roars and thunderous battlecries emitted from the bushes around the perimeter of the shacks the Adarnians used as a home and about a dozen small creatures with an ugly face and a green skin rushed towards the Adarnians left in the village, carrying spears in their hands that they flailed around menacingly. Their eyes were bloodshot and their angry shouting and grunting was clearly a sign of their ill intent as they approached the village as fast as their tiny legs allowed. This would not be resolved peacefully...

---

On the plains of the humans~

The weather was fair, and a cool breeze from the mountains. Fish were plenty and the bushes were ripe with berries and nuts that the gatherers could pick. Game was easy to catch and fat in the forest, making for an efficient hunting for the inhabitants of the human villages. Herds of Striders were curiously watching the humans as they went about the daily business, sometime letting out a few loud "squawks" if someone got to close to them. But as the day progressed, more and more reports of shady figures began to appear from gatherers and hunters all over the region. Tall, mysterious figures that would disappear without a trace whenever people began to approach them. Most of these tales came from areas closer to the north-eastern side of their territory, but some have told about similar findings from all the way at the river's source. Whatever it was, the more and more people saw these figures from the distance, the less likely it was that people were just imagining things.

---

In the rivers of the Merdhrai~

The night of the fight came and went, the events living sharply in the memory of those who witnessed the duel between the leader of the tribe and his daughter. The youngling had much to learn still, but she had at least proven that she wasn't afraid to face someone stronger than her. However, the tales of their fight would start to fade as curious items began to appear after water retreated into the ocean after the tide: pieces of plank wood, washed up on shore along with rope and fabric that were of a much more fine quality than that of the Merdhrai. There was enough of this debris to make it more than just some strange occurance, but there was no culprit to be seen: no collapsed buildings, or Mordhrai that went out at sea to test their luck. Not to mention the apparent age of these materials, though water made it hard to estimate such a thing. Either way, whatever the source was, it was likely to be found within the bay the otters called a home.

---

@Pagemaster@DX3214@Dog

[DELETED32084]

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, Deep Harbour

Riverjack squatted and studied the items that had been brought before him by several young Merdhrai. Among them, her face grave, was Streambattle. The group had been collecting mussels along the shoreline when they stumbled upon the first of the objects, a hefty cord of wood with ropes hanging from it. Such ropes! Nothing like the kelp lines that the Merdhrai used among their own kin for fishing and building. It was stronger, so much stronger. The four of them had conducted a tug of war before bringing it home and had been unable to break it.

"All by the shoreline near the rocks?" Riverjack asked, raising an eyebrow at the groups ring leader, a fit looking creature by the name of Finbarr.

"That's right Skipper. This here was floating when we found it, half submerged." A paw, claws retracted, reached out to touch the broad swath of cloth that had been found attached to another cord of wood. "It's tough and quite large. Big enough to provide cover for several beasts.

Riverjack nodded as he pondered the pieces. Individually they meant little to him, but coming together as they had, it meant something new and unexpected had come to his corner of the world. He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to make sense of the wreckage. Yes, it had to be wreckage. The wood was broken with great force at the ends, and the rope had snapped, the cloth was torn. This was all part of something that had once been whole. Something large.

"We must discover more. Finbarr, take these three and scout the bay. There was a strong tide last night, the pieces may have come from further out to sea. Be careful and go armed. The Teeth of the Deep have been active with the new moon. You must return before nightfall."

Finbarrs chest swelled with pride as he placed a paw across his chest and bowed his head slightly. Streambattle glared at her father but repeated the gesture as the four of them withdrew. Riverjack watched them go, their quick bounding steps coupled with barks of excitement as they leapt to jackknife into the water. He turned his attention back to the pieces at his feet and stared harder at them wondering what they could mean.

* * * * *

Streambattle returned home swiftly, her cheeks burning from the humiliation of being overlooked for command of the little group. Deep down she knew Finbarr was older and more experienced, but she was the daughter of the Skipper of the Merdhrai! That ought to count for something.

"Been to see your father then?" Swiftpaddle, her mother, was seated just inside the small cave that they shared as a family along the riverbank. In one paw she held a white seashell, in the other a paintbrush that she dabbed in a rich purple colour. Like so many other Merdhrai, their small Holt, or family group, had one large communal space. Everything was done here, except relieving oneself of course. Two entrances, one above ground, and the other below water, provided access to a space made cozy with rush mats on the walls and floors. It wasn't much really, but it was home.

"I have." Streambattle snarled as she grabbed her sling and spear from the wall rack. Several other spots were empty, her fathers and four of her siblings, were already out. "He gave command of the scouting group to Finbarr."

"You're not surprised are you?" Swiftpaddles eyebrows rose as her daughter turned with barred teeth. "You challenged him and lost. By all rights, you ought to be dead."

"And that wouldn't bother you at all, would it?" Sarcasm was thick in Streambattles tone.

"No, the Merdhrai suffer no fools, girl."

The cold reply stopped Streambattle dead in her tracks and she stared at her mother with a mixture of horror and disbelief. The same creature who had given birth to her, nursed her, taught her to swim and to hunt in the shallows... How could she..?

"The strong survive among our kin. You should know this. Of the seven pups I have given your father, you are the only one who lived." Swiftpaddles gaze challenged Streambattle who suddenly felt very small. She could sense the tension in her mothers voice and it dawned on her how worried her mother had been about the fight, though she never said anything.

"Well, um, I guess that makes sense..." She scuffed the mud floor with her hind-paw and then darted forward to hug Swiftpaddle. The two shared a swift squeeze before she was pushed away and shooed toward the entrance.

"Go on. Make me proud."

Streambattle grinned and slipped quickly down the mud slide and into the current of the river that quickly pushed her toward the ocean. She surfaced briefly to glance around, catching sight of her friends nearby on the riverbank. They waved and dove into the water with her.

The four raced Northward, dodging and weaving among each other, the water rushing past, streams of bubbles marking their passage through the green water. Fish scattered before them and even the larger seabirds, some big enough to kill a individual Merdhrai, made good their escape. A hunting party was nothing to be taken lightly. The riverbed of smoothed pebbles and stones slowly gave way to sand and mud as the current slowed and the river widened.

The water turned to a turbid brown as they reached the ocean, the river current smashing into the ocean tide with such force that it churned up the sandy bottom and shortened visibility drastically. As they passed from fresh water to salt water it was easier to swim. No one knew why, but things floated better in the salt water than in the river.

"Keep within eyesight of each other. We will check the shallows first." Finbarr ordered and Streambattle nodded without argument. She did not see Finbarr blow out his cheeks in relief; he had been deeply worried about taking along the hot headed daughter of the chief.

In the end, the search for the source of the strange pieces turned out to be easier than expected. They encountered a foraging party returning from the upper reef who said they had seen a strange thing, a great wooden shell dashed upon the rocks, tree trunks rising from its decks but instead of leaves, its branches had been covered with rope and cloth.

The four young Merdhrai turned their noses north and shot through the water, intent on seeking the mysterious arrival.

[Dog]

A slither of light pierces through a gap into the straw and wooden hut. The sunlight casts itself upon Nnamani’s eyes, forcing the man to wake up from his sleep. Nnamani rubs his eyes and gets up from his straw bed. The groggy feel from the night’s sleep stops the man from doing anything for a few short moments. Nnamani’s body slowly starts to kick into gear as his bodily functions get ready for another day of work. Most of the others are also awake, but Nnamani appears to be the last one of the home. Once the grogginess faints away, Nnamani stands up and walks outside.

The sounds of nature first fill the ears of Nnamani before it is overtaken by the louder clatter of the people’s toil. Nnamani seeks work and goes to his wife for answers. Nnamani’s wife, Chane, who is currently skinning a deer, tells that the crops need working and that Nnamani should go with the group gathering at the fields to do so. Nnamani nods, giving his wife a quick hug before he heads off to the nearby fields. Arriving by foot, Nnamani finds a gathering of men and women discussing. Nnamani finds himself a place and listens in. The current discussion revolves around the assignment of areas for work. Before long, everyone gets their assigned areas and starts the process of cutting. Nnamani, like everyone else, uses a sharp piece of flint on a stick to do the labor of removing the barley stem from the earth. The hours go on, and Nnamani finishes his field. The others are also done with their work. Everyone piles the barley into one large stack before everyone then carries back the crops home. This, of course, takes another few hours to do.

For the last duties of the day, the group decides to gather some berries from the wild. Nnamani quickly finds himself among many bushes and tall grass. Nnamani, like any good person, knows what is good to pick, and what else is not good for eating. The local blueberries are normally safe, while the pinkish-colored ones often give extreme headaches before death. Once everything is said and done, the group goes back to their homes. Dinner is eaten, a few more hours of work is done and life goes on as per normal.

[rezay]

1

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Nedal's Conspiracy, Tun Daruyö, The Prince's Odyssey

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Nedal's Conspiracy

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Winter, The Yaagkhege Steppe

Months before the migration, Nedal of Ikhalg stands in a rolling sea of snow-blanketed grass, his lower legs enveloped. A stern, chilling wind sweeps the desolate steppe from the north, and Nedal braces against it with his grass cloak. No other creature or landmark is visible, aside from six other takhal who are clustered several paces away.

A male with a portly figure looks over his shoulder at Nedal, and curses
"Azh! Damn this wind, Nedal. Can't we get this over with before we freeze to death?"

A lankier male adds in a chastising tone
"Önta's right. We didn’t leave our wives to march three horizons into the snow and watch you daydream."

The others in the group look at Nedal, who has his gaze fixed on the horizon. He responds only with silence, and the two who had spoken share a look of apprehension. After a long moment, the lanky male continues more deferentially
"Well… Why are we here?"

Nedal faces the group following another pause, turning his eyes to the speaker.
"You’re no friend of Areg, Rhaman...”

Rhaman looks confused, responding
"Of Danaal– Why?” He glances at the others.

Nedal leaves his question and moves to Önta, who stiffens. Nedal places a hand on his shoulder, and murmurs
"And you, Önta. He killed your nephew last summer, did he not?”

Önta fumes at the mention of his nephew.
"Of only a dozen cycles… Kafar.”

Nedal pats Önta.
“It's the custom to spare a challenger so young— It was a grave injury to your clan to loose such a promising youth.”

He looks to each of the other takhal gathered there
“Ibakhi… Kesh… Ozha… Rhul. What do we have in common?”

There is a pause before Nedal answers with a bitter tongue
“Areg’s disfavor. It’s still known, how Ikhalg was hamstrung by Danaal in our prime– even after three generations, we feel the burden of dishonor just like any of you.”

There is a murmur of agreement in the group, and Nedal continues
“What’s more, he has shown disdain for all that makes the Takhal unique... It's well known, his intention to lead us away from the homeland, into strange and hostile territories. His ambition dishonors the ancestors!” He approaches the segment of the group which had remained silent, and they lean back in surprise.
"Will it be your daughters, your wives who are defiled by the Öngukhal when he goes to the west? Will it be your sons who are crushed under the stones of the Daanigkhal, when he forces them there? I say no!"

Nedal moves to the center of the group, and faces them. The impassioned outburst goes a ways in convincing the group, except for Ibakhi, the oldest of the company, who poses
“And what? He has the support of Altiil with Daarö... Not to mention Törad or Jömalg”

There is a moment of silence before Nedal returns
“And what? They are strong, but against the six gathered here...”

He gives a moment to let their minds finish his words, and Rhaman joins back in with an apprehensive tone
“What are you suggesting?” Immediately followed by Ibakhi
"You haven’t spoken this way to the council, Nedal. Why haven't you presented your concerns before? Maulung has expressed similar contentions..." Nedal looks to Ibakhi, and responds
"And the old fool has done nothing to curtail Areg. He is his son's father, it's obvious what his loyalties are."

Rhaman shifts nervously
"So what?"

Nedal looks at him, and returns
"We act! We halt Danaal's cursed hegemony, teach it and its allies a lesson, and reunite the other clans under our righteous leadership."

Ibakhi comes back
"We act how?"

Nedal moves towards Ibakhi, and grips his shoulder
"An alliance. You are wise, Ibakhi, to question me, but I know as well as you do that the council will not hear our concerns. Areg has brainwashed the other clans against them."

The older takhal stares at Nedal for a while, before responding
"So you're suggesting?" Nedal nods, and releases Ibakhi.
"We move against Danaal. All of us." He looks over his shoulder at the others.
"Ikhalg is the second most numerous clan." He looks to Önta.
"Jukta has the largest herds. Nearly half of the tribe is in debt to you some way or another..."
He backs away to address them all. Önta, Kesh, Rhul, and Ozha murmur to each other in agreement, while Rhaman and Ibakhi look skeptical, but interested.
"There will be a new council. Ikhalg will lead, and you— Jukta, Löjakh, Sadur, Temug, and Taghar will become its foremost allies."

Nedal steps away, and Rhaman leans forward.
"And what's to stop any of us from taking this discussion to the council?"

While the group was in discussion, they had failed to see an approaching figure, smaller than the others in the group, who was now within a few paces. A feminine voice responds to the question. "Why would Areg believe you, Rhaman? The alibi of Daarö's eldest against the tribe's largest clan of aad thieves won't be a contest..." The entire group perks up in surprise, and turn their heads to the figure. Rhaman growls, and then protests in a shocked tone
"A female! Who is she?" He looks over to Nedal, and takes several steps forward. The figure passes by the others, and moves to Nedal's side, laying a hand on his upper arm. Her tail flicks deviously. Nedal places a hand on her shoulder, and moves her away gently, stepping forward to meet an outraged Rhaman. She positions herself to Nedal's side, responding
"Dzamuri of Altiil." Rhaman's gaze flicks to her, and Nedal continues
"She's indispensable in my plan." He glances at her for a moment, then back to Rhaman.
"And my defense, if you do decide to go against me..."
Rhaman glances between the two of them with a baffled look shared by the others, and then stammers
"T-this... You two..." Nedal interrupts
"Have done nothing wrong, aside from safeguard the future of our people. You cannot deny what I have told you today."

Rhaman takes a step back, and places a hand over one ear, gripping his short mane.
"Daan Beikhal... You're really serious..." Nedal nods, then looks to the rest of the group. They exchange looks among each other.
"So, I assume I've convinced most of you..."
The four who had been in agreement confirm his assumption, one after the other. He looks to the two skeptics.
"Ibakhi? Rhaman? Your final answer." Ibakhi huffs wearily, and turns his head to the side. After a moment of deliberation, he responds "For now. We will see what plans you have made." Rhaman takes a long time before responding
"Fine. You have Löjakh's backing, Nedal... As long as you actually have a plan."

Dzamuri brushes against Nedal's side, and he nods, acknowledging her with a touch of their tails.
"I do. It begins this spring..."

---

The Prince's Odyssey

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, Far West of the Nëzhiba Forest
_WIP

A small takhal floats down a large river, his body motionless and embedded with the long, feathered shaft of an arrow. The flesh of his neck and jaw along one side is ripped open in a bloody tear, likely by the same weapon. The light of dawn stretches over his waterlogged, barely living form, and the chirping of birds can be heard nearby. Eventually, his body drifts into a recently toppled log, where he becomes snagged on one of its outstretched branches. He draws in shallow, ragged breaths– this part of his journey was over.

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STAY TUNED, MORE COMING SOON!

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Synopsis

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In the winter before the most recent migration south, Nedal of Ikhalg conspires against the current chieftain, Areg of Danaal. With inside help from Dzamuri of Altiil, as well as a newly formed power block of Areg's enemies, he plans to depose Areg and the Danaal clan in the following migration.

---

The son of Areg makes a perilous journey west following his father’s deposition and killing, pursued by Ikhalg warriors.

---

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Deep Lore! The Öngukhal! Clans!

The Öngukhal

The Öngukhal

The takhal name for the thugal. Roughly, it means "Mushroom Aliens." They were first reported some time ago in takhal expeditions to the west, and their sighting caused much xenophobia-motivated uproar back home. There has been no action, hostile or otherwise considered by the current leaders of the takhal, but an instinctual distrust remains. Not much about the thugal and their behavior or society is known by the takhal, thus Nedal's use of them to invoke fear.

Clan Information

Ikhalg:
The Ikhalg are the second most populous takhal clan, just behind Danaal. They were formerly respected, but following an unpopular Ikhalg chieftain defeated in a challenge from Danaal (Areg of Danaal's grandfather), they have existed in a reduced state following a larger-scale conflict between the two clans which the Ikhalg lost. Its current head is Nedal.

Danaal:
The current leading clan of the takhal, as well as the largest, it is powerful and widely respected. Its current head is Areg.

Altiil:
More of a religious rite than a clan, the Altiil are the religious authority of the takhal, and despite being the smallest clan by number hold a great deal of influence. Membership in this clan is determined by the passing of certain rites by young takhal looking to become shamans, which is often but not exclusively based on a family history of being shamans. Its current head is Daarö.

Löjakh:
The Löjakh are a clan regarded with both weariness and respect. They are known as being a particularly rough lot, rowdy and prone to disputes with other clans over aad herds. They are also masters of the art of lözhan brewing, and of herbalistic (and limited agricultural) knowledge in general. There are also some rumors that they practice inbreeding, which they vehemently deny. They are also the fifth-largest clan of the takhal, and the current head is Rhaman.

Jukta:
The Jukta are the fourth-largest clan of the takhal, and are known for their skill in the care for and herding of aad, as well as their shrewdness in business (to what extent that exists at this point). They are at odds with Danaal and its coalition following the killing of Kafar, a young male from one of its head families, after he challenged the rule of Areg. Areg claims the incident was accidental. Despite this, negotiations between the two clans have only managed to sour their relations more. The current head of Jukta is Önta.

Sadur:
The Sadur, like the Temug, are a small and fairly new clan. They split away from the Temug in the conflict between Ikhalg and Danaal, taking a neutral position. As such tensions exist between the two clans, but recent negotiations and marriages have gone a ways in mending old wounds. There's even talk amongst the older members of the clan of the Sadur and Temug combining into one again, but the younger generation is largely apathetic to this proposition. Its current head is Ozha.

Temug:
The Temug are a relatively small and new clan (splitting away from the Sadur), but have made a name for themselves as masters of tool-making and industry. Their quick rise was formerly encouraged by the Ikhalg when they were head of the tribe, and so they made themselves allies of Ikhalg in the civil war (putting it strongly) with Danaal. As a result, their advancement has been resisted by the leadership of the tribe for the last couple generations, and they are eager for a change of management. Their current head is Kesh.

Taghar:
A small, ancient clan, the Taghar are highly respected if not very powerful, being known as upright, ardent followers of tradition. Their members increase in average age and decrease in number by the generation. There have been efforts to increase its birthrate, size, and power by Ibakhi and his father before him, which have met with limited success. Internally, there is much tension between more the more conservative-minded families and the more aspirational head.

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[6slyboy6]

The Merdhrai's Menace

Day ???, Week ???, Cycle ???
Springtime, Bay Entrance

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Bits and pieces of wood, fabric and rope. They were all intricately crafted, much more sophisticated than what the Merdhrai could ever hope to produce. They were all the signs that were so obvious to those who knew what it belonged to, but for most of the otterfolk it was still a mystery as to what their true origin was. But as with all things, soon the secrets of these objects would reveal themselves in the most spectacular fashion.

Dashing across the water of the shielded natural harbor, the greater area of which a part the Merdhrai had called home, it wasn't long until the quick and agile otters finally bumped into what they were searching. To the northeast of their village, dashed up on the rocks near the entrance to the large bay, was a ship of a large size that had been clearly caught in a storm and then lost to it's rage as it was caught on the wave breakers. It's imposing wooden hull relatively intact, though showing signs of age already that seemed to go against the common wisdom of ships that were recently shipwrecked.

The sails hung loose in the wind, the soft breeze fluttering and puffing them up and sending rippled through their surface. One of the wooden beams in the middle that supported a small crow's nest was cracked and hanging off to the side, supported only by ropes that have seen better days. A piece of cloth, a flag of unknown origin was still hanging loosely from atop said beam, fluttering in the wind. It's colors White, with a pair of red and blue animals that the Merdhrai couldn't tell the origin of holding what seemed like sticks. The details on it were intricate, but the weather has worn out the colors and made them bleed into the white of the background a bit.

Approaching further to the wreck, the Merdhrai could see that the hull had been cracked open at the bottom where the ship hit the rocks, but despite the high waves that sometimes splashed against it, it seemed like the wreck wasn't intent on moving from it's final resting place. Smashed pieces of wood and a few barrels floated in the water the opening, the inside dark and shielded from the outside world.

On the inside the ship was dank with the smell of weathered wood and wet fur. Crates and barells, some still sealed, laid strewn about what seemed like the cargo hold of the ship. A ladder leading up to the surface was still attached to the beam in the middle, a trapdoor in the middle leading up to the the deck, while another trapdoor lead down into what seemed like a compartment below the one they were in, but the door seemed stuck at first glance, perhaps indicating that the compartment below was not yet flooded. Up on the deck, a few buckets and spare ropes laid in the far corner, caught by the railing of the ship. Seagulls watched intently from the railings and other elevated positions, flocks of them already claiming the wreck as their home. The craftsmanship here was even more clear than before, the angles of the carved wood and the thickness of beams and logs showing the Merdhrai a glimpse of what can be possible. On the far end of the ship, sitting slightly above that water level was what seemed like a cabin that was still not submerged.

Inside the Merdhrai could find ornate furniture, maps that have been soaked and faded by the water that rushed in through the broken windows with every tide, as well as a few personal belongings that seemed to have been left behind. It was clear that whoever was on this ship had left in a haste, a moldy plate of food still laying on a platter that was kept in place on a cabinet, whilst various other instruments the Merdhrai couldn't identify were on the walls and cabinets that laid the walls. A few books and notes were thrown about the floor of the currently dry cabin, but whatever their ink once held had been washed away by rising tides. Signs of struggle were visible upon closer investigation, a few scratch and cut marks visible on the large wooden desk sitting in the middle of the cabin.

It was a treasure trove of knowledge and discovery, even if a lot has already been lost to the elements. But perhaps the biggest mystery was one that the wood and cloth could not make up for: the seemingly missing occupants of the ship that were nowhere to be found. Perhaps the only clue as to what this ship was here for, where it came from and who used it. All questions the Merdhrai would have to answer on their own with time...

@Pagemaster