[IC] Dreamscape | A World Forgotten (1 Spot Open)

[Cello]

Chapter 1 | A New Horizon

Amazing artwork by vennom07 on DeviantArt

"After the Silence, we were lost, alone and afraid. Yet from the darkness, the voice of Kedalup granted us guidance. Through Kedalup we are brought together." Chief Uotan, 289 Cycles after The Silence

The Ansharin Oasis | Dawn

The first rays of sunlight cascaded the earth with a brilliant radiance, the glorious morning peaking over the endless horizon of the Moodja Plains. The light reflected off of the dust covered soil, revealing the scattering dust particles through the air as the light touched them. They danced gracefully along the ground with the fresh, morning breeze. The flowers of the Moodja Bush bloomed beautifully, dotting the landscape with flecks of white and orange petals. In the distance, the Ansharin Oasis shimmered magnificently with a mirage of lights. The tribe's herd of Ngarlak graze by the water. The large beasts, resembling that of a strange hybrid between camel and a lizard, are a main source of transportation for carrying supplies back from the Moodja. The beasts live for many years and bare many children, before they are made use of for meat, bones and pelts at a ripe old age. Many other animals visit the Ansharin Oasis for a drink. Even though some are known to be dangerous predators, they are quite docile when near the Oasis. The elders attribute this strange shift in nature to be the will of Kedalup protecting their tribe.

In the large fire pit before the elders hut, smoke still rises from last nights fire. Even at dawn, members of the Ansharin are hard at work preparing the fire pit for a grand celebration. Today is the last sunrise of the dry season, which marks the end of another cycle. The Ansharin celebrate this turnover to a new cycle with great food, dance and music through the night. And this years celebration is of extra importance, as it marks the end of another century. A new horizon lies just ahead for the Ansharin people, and this new cycle marks the beginning of a great adventure.

---

Kwelek Djilyaro, "Kwenda"

Early Morning | The Moodja Plains

The sudden warmth that came with the first rays of dawn was a welcomed feeling by Kwenda. The young Ansharin scout had been picking the petals of a Moodja bush, hoping to please his friend Abigale back at the village. When crushed with some clay, red dust and a little bit of water the petals formed quite a lovely scented paint that the women of the tribe were quite fond of when they went out for the hunt. Staring up at the sun, Kwenda noticed that it would soon be time for the daily hunts to begin. Picking up his spear off of the floor, he tied the little makeshift basket of petals to the tip of the spear. Resting the shaft over his shoulder, Kwenda began his brisk walk back to the Ansharin Oasis. In the distance he saw a herd of Kwenda, the creature he was named by the Dream for, scurry like lightning across the plains. It was hard for most members of the tribe to make out the details of the Kwenda; they were just too fast. Kwenda would always remember their tiny, button like noses, sharp teeth and strangely large eyes. They had thing, wisp like whiskers and soft, pointed ears. They were curious little critters, and Kwenda often enjoyed playing with them these days. Ever since he had caught one, he'd had a strange affinity for them. It was as if they thought he was one of them.

The huts of the Ansharin tribe grew closer with every step, and seeing the preparations for the great feast of the new cycle excited Kwenda. Good food, dancing with friends and recalling tales of the last cycle. This was also the time where young Ansharin who have spent their childhoods training become recognised as hunters of the tribe. Kwenda remembers the last cycle when he stood and was lifted into manhood. He remembered all those eyes on him. It was an exhilarating feeling. His train of thought was cut off by a strange feeling on his toes. Looking down, he felt an odd, leathery substance below him. His first thought was that someone had dropped a piece of hide. But then he saw an odd little rectangle of leather. He picked it up, opening it into a large shape with many dirty pieces of thin, sheets of white. There were black markings that Kwenda could not read scrawled throughout the entire thing. Excited by his find, Kwenda dashed back to the Oasis to show the others.

[MarshiestMallow]

There were few things Abigale enjoyed more then the sun rising. It's light to her signified the dawn of a new day, a new chance, and a new beginning. With the dawns early rays, Abigale went through her morning routine, as she crushed petals, dust and water to form a paint, which she carefully painted on herself. Letting it dry, Abigale gathered her hunting equipment, her spears, water and some small amount of food.

The young woman was use to this routine, having done if for a while now. Though today Abigsle would return early from her hunt, with whatever she managed to get, for the feast, the end of a cycle feast. Another sort of ending, of beginning. Perhaps the new cycle would bring something...something more. Spending a good amount of her life taking care of her father, her younger sibling left her yearning for something just a little bit more in her own life. She felt tha she was behind others, in the tribe her age, because she had seemed to start out just a little bit later as she juggled her family and her life.

This didn't necessarily matter, but for Abigale, being able to start her life, cleaning in the new cycle, it meant a lot. Her younger brother and sister, 18 and 19 respectively, had started their lives, and already her sister, never one for the hunt, had began a new family. That was good too. New life continued were the old ended. Abigale though had had enough of nurturing for a time, and wanted...excitement.

Satisfied she was prepared, Abigale started out. She had her spears strapped over her back, within easy reach and in a way that she could pull it free and attack or defend quickly. She had her water skin attacked to her clothes, and again, it was in easy reach. She glanced about, looking to see if there was anyone else gearing up for the hunt

[SillyGoy]

Satisfied she was prepared, Abigale started out. She had her spears strapped over her back, within easy reach and in a way that she could pull it free and attack or defend quickly. She had her water skin attacked to her clothes, and again, it was in easy reach. She glanced about, looking to see if there was anyone else gearing up for the hunt.

@Caits

And there, not so far away, standing in front of old man Loghos' hut, was Yel'Shadar, stringing his bow and making it ready for use. Ever the early bird, he had already finished applying his body paints with the help of Loghos, who had become something of an uncle to him ever since the death of his father. His paints today complemented his tattoos well, for the patterns on his arms, belly and legs mimicked those of the Mudain raptors. Of course, Yel had asked for something humbler, but the aging hunter whose awful foot blister was only beginning to heal insisted on Mudain patterns because, one: such markings were appropriate for something as auspicious as the dawn of a new cycle; and two: because he thought that Yel deserved it for his skill. The boy argued to an extent, but he never got the Tarkmande patterns that he asked for. A youth, after all, can only get so far when speaking with elders... especially those who weren't his father.

But such thoughts weren't auspicious, so Yel shook them from his thoughts as he began to bend and stretch, testing the limberness of his physique. A remarkable thing about the boy was that he would never display pride nor joy at his truly impressive musculature. A hunter from birth, with his training and ventures unrivaled in exclusivity and intensity under the guidance of his late father, his body looked like it had been destined for the wild hunt. With bronzed skin, rippling with taut muscle from calf to thigh, stomach to biceps - it was strange indeed for someone his age to be quietly resigned about it all. He was a promising young man and clearly he had the essence of a Mudain in him, but he'd never been seen trying to impress a girl. Even the old crones' all-knowing rumor mill was without anything juicy regarding Yel'Shadar. The Elders were somewhat concerned at this, but most ruled it out as him being an exceptionally late bloomer. "The death of his father still has a profound effect on the boy," they were saying in whispers. "His heart may not realize it, but his soul still grieves to this day."

But it wasn't so much that Yel hadn't started liking girls yet. In fact, part of the reason why he was stretching under the sun, clad in meaningful tattoos and glinting sunlight off of the first beads of sweat of the day, was because he knew that Abigail was around, and she was sure to be watching. The reason why he hadn't courted anyone yet was more complex than any simple answer. The reason was actually a mixture of different interrelated answers which weren't defined in any clear or concise manner and so were too complex for the simple human tongue or mind to grasp and express - or so Yel thought. Or maybe he was arrogant, that he deemed none of the girls in the Tribe as being worthy of his embrace, and he just didn't realize it. Yel hoped not. That would mean being an ass; and father always said to never be an ass.

And just as he finalized that thought, it appeared that his preparatory stretching rituals were finished. He glanced in the theorized direction - and he was right! Abigail was there, and she may or may not have been staring the whole time. She was some distance away, and the youth thought about saying a loud hello, but with Loghos and his love for peace and quiet, he just smiled and waved.

Yel'Shadar, son of Dug and Lowa, approached Abigail with a confident stride. As he closed the distance, he examined his fellow hunter from top to bottom three times: the first time about her gear, the second time about her body, and the third time also about her body but for unspeakable reasons. When he was near, he finally greeted her, his expression incredibly unsuspicious.

"Good morning, Abigail." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly enough, Yel decided. His voice was slightly coarse, middling in pitch but concise in the pragmatic manner of the hunters of the Tribe. "Sleep well? Ready for the hunt, I see." And he allowed his eyes up and down her body a fourth time.

[Lunarlord34]

Adoni simply sat outside his hut and 'watched' the hunters gathering. By 'watched' I suppose it was more looking at, as he could hear where the hunters were but due to his blindness obviously couldn't see.
He was so bored, being blind he obviously couldn't participate in the hunt as he had tried to before....to much hilarity and not very good results. He touch his eyes longingly. If he could see, he might be able to be of use to the tribe instead of a burden.
He slowly stood up, his hands steadying himself against the wall, as he had heard some familiar people. Yel'Shadar and Abigale.
He slowly approached them, making sure not to trip over anything he couldn't 'sense' before smiling towards them. At least he thought so, turns out he was smiling at the space next to them. Oh well, close enough right?
"Good luck for the hunt guys." He said, still smiling and talking to the space next to them. He hadn't quite mastered talking to people yet.

[MarshiestMallow]

Abigale did indeed see Yel'Shadar and she watched a moment as he stretched, clearly warming up for the hunt. Abigale hadn't thought of that today, but she wasn't going to do some stretches now, out in the open. There was a connection with Yel, if only for the simple fact that both their fathers were dead. She sympathized with that, but where Abigale's father had died fighting a disease, Yel'Shadar had died on a hunt. In a way, Abigale suspected that that was worse. She had had time to adjust to the fact that her father was going to die, Yel hadn't and his fathers death had left him an orphan, and had, Abigale suspected, drawn a wedge between Yel and the tribe.

She suspected that Yel'Shadar was stretching out in the open so people, namely girls, and she thought, her, could see. And the fact that he looked over, almost at once, to her proved that. A little thrown off by that thought, Abigale watched as he came over. She returned his wave, and watched the confident stride, as well as the three separate looks over her. She raised an eyebrow, and stayed where she was until he spoke.

"Good morning, Yel'Shadar" she responded, her own voice soft, her voice almost...fruity in a way. And Yel'Shadar looked her up and down once more. She chuckled, a easy sound that was all the more precious because Abigale rarely laughed. "I slept fine. More then ready for the hunt" she smiled, but it faded as she asked "how is your uncle's foot? If it's still troubling him, I have some salve that may help" she offered, looking over as Adoni approaches. She smiled at Adoni.

Abigale knew that he felt a sense of uselessness, because of his blindness, but that wasn't true, at least to Abigale. "Hi Adoni. Thanks. Listen, I hear some of the cooks need a hand, maybe you could help out? There's stuff you could do" she said, keeping her tone easy, hoping to not offend Adoni, but rather give him a sense of purpose. If she had more time today, she would actually offer to take Adoni out with her. She knew he had tried before, and become the joke of the tribe for a little while, but she thought it could be possible for Adoni to at least become even a poor Hunter. at the very least it would give him something else to do besides staying home. And she was patient.

@Lunarlors34@SillyGoy

[Grim327]

“1 . . . 2 . . . 3, down,” Durabu ordered as he and his partner reached the wood pile. His fellow tribesman turned around to continue gathering more wood, while Durabu stood there for a minute. He wiped a bead of sweat off his darkened forehead. The sun had completely crossed the horizon and began to share its full warmth with the world. Durabu observed the scene before him; a village full of cacophony and commotion. Hunters preparing for their morning routine, gatherers returning with a small bounty, children running around playing, and the biggest group, a myriad of people setting up preparations for the evening’s main event. The end of one cycle and beginning of another meant many things, plus the added bonus of starting a new century promised many more exciting trials and adventures. Durabu would soon reflect on the past cycle, but he always looked forward to the new one, and the new tales yet to be told.

As he was about to return to his duty, he saw the younger Kwenda running back towards the village with a strange object in his hand. Durabu looked ahead of Kwenda’s path and saw he was heading in the direction of a small group that had been forming. Abigale, Adoni, and Yel’shadar were huddled up chatting with one another; most likely about the hunt that was to soon take place. Durabu returned his gaze to the task at hand and realized the rest of the wood was already being brought back. Seeing this as a nice time to take a break, he unhitched his watersack, took a swig, reattached it to his side, and marched over to the small gathering. Durabu knew all of them. He helped each of them at some point in their lives, and seeing as Durabu was one of the largest men in the village, it’s hard for anyone NOT to remember him.

“Good morning, everyone!” He exclaimed in his deep but cheery voice. “I hope your day’s beginnings are going well.”

[Zendrelax]

Kuparr was not one of the Ansharin out hunting for the coming feast. At this moment he was helping carry supplies from the tent of the elders to where they would be cooked for the celebration of the end of the cycle. It wasn’t the most engaging task in the world, but one that needed to be done. Such was his lot today, at least for now. He was left a trifle annoyed, because he wanted to contribute in a larger and more meaningful way, but he knew that the celebration would more than make up for it.

Laying his present load down, he looked around him to see that it was also his last—at least of this nature. The cook thanked him, and he responded in kind. Looking around nearby, he saw Durabu and someone else—who’s name Kuparr was having trouble recalling at the moment—lay down a some of the wood for the fire. Kuparr liked Durabu. Durabu was kind, and while he might have questioned the elders with some frequency, Kuparr could not think less of him for it because he had many of the same questions, but did not voice them. He knew there would be no answers, and so resolved to withhold his curiosity until he became an elder himself.

Kuparr was distracted from his dream when he saw the young Kwenda running towards the Oasis. Kuparr was not one of the people who believed the younger Ansharin had not truly earned his tattoos. Kuparr had personal experience with the little primates Kwenda had been named for, and knew their speed to be unmatched. Kuparr did suspect that the feat had been accomplished with less-than-ordinary methods, but Kuparr, of all people, was in no place to criticize someone for that.

As Kwenda neared the edge of their settlement, Kuparr saw that Kwenda had something unusual in his hand. And Kuparr was intrigued. He started walking over to where Kwenda was heading—now seeing Abigale, Yel’shadar, and Adoni clustered roughly in Kwenda’s path. Somehow he had missed Durabu, who had been closer than Kuparr, heading over there as well, which was especially surprising considering his size.

“Good Morning!” He called out to all of them.

[Cello]

Kwelek Djilyaro, "Kwenda"

Early Morning | The Ansharin Oasis

Even in the early morning, the desert soil was already scorching hot. If Kwenda hadn't spent his entire life walking back and forth across these lands, then his feet would probably be burning from the red soil. His feet flew across the plains, excitement carrying him with the wind. Anyone that didn't know him would swear that he was running for his life. It had only taken about twenty minutes of running to reach the oasis from the plains. He held the leather journal firmly in his hand, wanting to show the small hunting group that seemed to be preparing to leave the village. With one final running leap, Kwenda landed with a slight slide in front of Abigale, Yel'Shadar and Adoni. The former two were hunters, and fairly talented ones at that. Yel was only a couple years older than Kwenda, but standing next to him made him feel like a little kid. He definitely related more to Adoni, who was a very unique individual.
"Good morning!" Kwenda spoke cheerfully, clutching the journal to his chest with a look of excitement. "Check out what I've found! It's a weird, leather pouch thing. It's filled with thin, white sheets. Maybe it's some form of hide?" Before he could continue, Durabu and Kuparr joined the group. Seeing Kuparr, Kwenda instantly hid the journal behind his back. Although he'd already seen it.

"Oh! Hello! I just found a thing. I was gonna give it to the elders. Honest!" Kwenda started babbling, trying to explain himself. He knew that Kuparr held a great deal of respect and admiration for the elders. They all did, to an extent. Yet he knew that Kuparr wouldn't take too kindly to him hoarding a discovered treasure instead of showing it to the elders first. "I wasn't trying to hide it! I just figured that it looked pretty old. Maybe even older than the Silence. You know what the elders are like. They burn anything from before then without a second thought. I just wanted a chance to have a look at it before that, you know?" As he spoke, Kwenda inched closer and closer to Durabu. The gentle giant's presence made him feel less uneasy. His thoughts drifted back to the peculiar journal. He couldn't understand what was inside it. The elders supposedly knew how to understand bits and pieces of the scripts before the Silence, but they would never share their findings with the others. They were just doing it to protect the tribe; but what harm could a piece of leather bring?

[SillyGoy]

@Zendrelax@Leslie Hall
Collaborative post between this silly goy and Leslie.

---

Yel'Shadar wasn't really one for flights of fancy, so when Kwelek came back to the tribe with a caged Kwenda in tow one day, he took the side of the more reasonable party who believed that the boy never actually caught the animal by trial of endurance, but rather poisoned it, tricked it, or acquired it by otherwise crooked, snakelike means. He'd been quiet about the incident and generally polite towards the younger boy, but now he's gotten something that might be from before The Silence. Now, Yel wasn't an ass - his father had explicitly told him not to be one, but if his gesture - cocking his head back, smirking sardonically and snorting - wasn't insulting, then the sun rose in the night and the rain fell from the ground and girls lost their maidenhood at age five.

He was quick to regain a serious countenance, however. "Before the Silence? Oh, amazing. Here, let me take a look at that."

Not surprisingly, Kwelek did hand him the object. Yel secured his bow and began examining the thing: hundreds of dirty sheets of something white, bound together in a tough spine and covered by a sort of hide. All over the sheets were a series of constantly appearing black patterns - symbols, something like the sigils in tattoos or hunt paints. The hunter raised his brow, held the object casually in the air, and said to Kuparr pointedly, "I don't know what it is, but it doesn't seem very useful. Think the Elders might want this thing?"

Yel expected Kuparr to say something along the lines of 'yes, and you should give it to me immediately so I can take it to the old men who would then burn the thing,' and immediately try to wrest the object from his grip. So he prepared against this.

[MarshiestMallow]

As Yel'Shadar politely declined the offer for some salve, Abigsle nevertheless made a mental note to leave some for him. Even if it wasn't used, it was the thought that counted at least. As everyone seemed to approach at once, the group got larger and Abigale noticed, as she always did, with some amusement that she was the only female in the group.

She didn't mind that. Males were easier to get along with, most of the time. She smiled at them, as Kwenda approached appearing excited. He showed the something that...was old. From before. That made Abigale curious and when it was passed to Yel, she looked over his shoulder curiously, before looking about at the others.

She knew that they should give it to the elders, but...it seemed such a shame to have it burned or hidden away, something so old, it could be valuable to their future. But she didn't speak up, instead she fell silent, thoughtful, wondering if she could prevent its destruction.

But she did say "it almost looks...like its...maybe symbols for trials? Or...for places?"

[Lunarlord34]

@Caits@SillyGoy@Zendrelax@Leslie Hall@Grim327
"Nah I am sure I would just get in the way." Adoni scratched the back of his head before grinning nervously towards the direction he thought Abigale was in. He did appreciate the thought, but he doubted he could be of much help to anyone. Most of the people in the village thought he was a burden.
Hearing the deep voice of Duraba he turned and waved towards where he suspected the big man was. He never forgot a voice, ever and this deep voice was one that Adoni could never forget anyway.
"Morning, day hasn't been going for long but it's decent so far." Adoni replied with a shrug before turning to where he believed Kwenda was with interest.
"Can I see it?" Adoni said with a slight chuckle at his own joke, but he at least wanted to be able to feel whatever it is they were talking about. He went to walk over to where he thought Kwenda was, but tripped and fell face first in the dirt. He had no idea what he just tripped over, but he believed that it was probably something very obvious so he now sighed in annoyance.