A Strange World :: Civilization's Dawn (IC/Closed)

by **The Grim Reaper** » Tue Oct 30, 2018 3:30 am

Lyov, Firsthome

Lyov sorted through what remained of his shimmerstone. His mosaic glinted strongly in the light; his choice to leave the rough sides as the image of the mosaic, using facing to set the stones into place, was clearly paying dividends. But right now, he needed a piece with a nice natural curve to it, to delicately pop into place at the edge of the central firepit, and he was drawing a blank.

The pile he had left to him was worth its weight in gold at this point. As much as he had tried to avoid this day, it was inevitable - he had run out of workable shimmerstone. It was annoying to see, so clearly, the mosaic in its glory, half-complete, and yet to be unable to work to it. It would be a routine trip to collect more shimmerstone, but after three years, it seemed impossible to stop thinking about the mosaic in its beauty. Still, it had to be done.

He started to prepare for another journey to collect shimmerstone. This time, however, he felt more comfortable. He felt he had direction. Not just in the physical sense, having done the trek once before, but spiritually. This was not an exploration without meaningful fruit, but something he could work towards, to be an end to his means. This felt comforting.

With his prior experience on the trip under his belt, he wondered if he would have time to take stock of his surroundings. Now enriched by his understanding of the night sky, it struck him that he had only ever seen the stars in the sense he now could not avoid using from Firsthome. They had always been part of the tapestry of life for him, but they did not form shapes, paths, or grand movements through space and time before. Now, these systems were inescapable. He wondered if they looked the same from the north.

Lyov: Collects shimmerstone with his wicker handcart; investigates if his understanding of astronomy from his observations at Firsthome still apply when he observes the sky from the northern shimmerstone veins.

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Tue Oct 30, 2018 4:18 pm

Clan Bryre
Reshia's Pasture

“By the end of this year, Ferren, you shall be debparting to meet Clan Serys,” stated Vallen, “we will make sure that your wife and children will be in good care.”

“Good, I know she is a little upset with this ordeal, but I’m sure she’ll come around,” Ferren said hopefully, “It is important that we make good ties with our neighbors.”

Vallen nods silently, the past few years, had been calm, quiet, and all around rather forgettable. The only real change was the development with clay working, but there was still much to learn. Regardless this meeting would be one of the most important thing in the past following year, save for Larren’s (Fourth), and Garrun’s (Sixth) namedays.

“Oh, and Vallen,” Ferren said abruptly, “The mana draw experiments are underway, best we figure out how to obtain mana, as a finite force, rather than relying on sacrifices.”

“Understood, good studying shaman,” said Vallen departing for a way to allow fluffings to be herded.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Wed Oct 31, 2018 6:40 am

by **Adab** » Wed Oct 31, 2018 8:20 am

The Maelon, They Who Came Forth from the Mountains

No fluff for now, unfortunately.

by **Ralnis** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 7:44 am

Xcotl,
Conceretated by the Dead

The drought had finally afflicted the folk of Xcotl. Opono had gotten ill from over exertion. Zuma, had found a path around the plagued lands. The Chieftain feared that the plague would spread should one of their own traveled there.

Still, he felt bad for there was nothing for they could do but leave them to their own devices. As for now, they had to worry about food and Opono. The drought had dwindled their food and their corn. Opono is bed ridden with overexertion and Zuma had finally go to see the Zhou in talks between tribes.

Tenochitanzula recalled that the Fergdun had strange instruments that could heal but with their own problems, they had rely on their own intelligence to improve on the medical welfare.

Kutor also helped in studying on how to improve on general welfare for the tribe.

As Uli hunts squirrels with traps and a bronze spear to get food to last through the drought.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 10:48 am

Clan Serys

New Horizons

"So, what do you think?" Garen said with a wide smile, drying the simple plant-based dye from his hands and turning to his sister, sitting on a rock, head slightly cocked to the side, looking at the pattern of hieroglyphs roughly painted on the rocky side of the Kame that rose above Serrith, casting it's shadow on the small settlement of the Clan. He had painted, or tried to paint the story of when their parents arrived in Sera from the Greatwood where they had been born and lived when they were their age. Kharyn now also cocked her eyebrow, it looked good enough but there weren't enough pictures to really retell their story in all of it's detail. Perhaps another system of glyphs would be better? Well, that was an issue for another day. Kharyn had her own planet. Her stepmother and Lia spent so much time gathering fruit, going across the land from grove to grove. Why hadn't Father thought about growing their own sweetplum grove near Sera? It wouldn't feed them completely but it would help.

"Kinda looks like Harrim painted it." She said with a wry smile, taking delight in her younger half-brother's annoyed expression before hopping down from the rock and giving him a pat on the back and a few encouraging words before leaving to go attempting to find sweetplum saplings to replant by Serrith. As she strode across the Kamelands of Sera, her thoughts turned to the stranger who was to visit them soon, one of these Bryre-folk her father had met with some years ago. She wondered what he might tell them of the land they lived in and who these Bryres were as a people, time would tell.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 5:05 pm

Walls of the Sunhold, Firsthome
9th of Winter's Grasp, Year 24

Under Vladimir's fur-wrapped fists the sigil glowed brightly, a consuming red fire licking from the inert stone towards the matching inscription upon the ice-encrusted fitted rock exterior of the Sunhold. Shadowy gray forms leapt into stark relief under the overcast sky, indifferent half-light of winter banished in an instant by the sharp acrid stink of enchantment. It reminded the scholar of nothing so much as the feel after a lightning strike had happened nearby, and the hairs on the back of his neck slowly curled upwards as the power of the feat he had engineered became increasingly apparent.

The other bonding, the one during summer, that had been different. Languid sun-warmed stone gracefully accepting the embrace of the twining energy, taking what heat that was given into itself gladly, as an affectionate lover might caress a long-lost companion. But here the raw potential of the forces the Hvasskyn sought to trammel was all too apparent. Sparks as of a wild campfire spat from the joining of the red flames, and even through the thick pelt wraps the son of Nemtsov was aware of the building heat. Retorts shattered the stillness of the winter air, ice cracking and shearing away from the surface of the Sunhold.

Then the rock crumbled away, consumed. It might have been a corpse hollowed out by predators, so final was its moment of demise, the stern near-black stone turned to so much brittle dust and shards of what had been. Only a small segment, the Rune now reduced to a sullen fading cherry red, was intact. One hand of the laborer scrabbled at the pile of cracked stone at his feet, and another fragment of the bones of the earth he raised to the sigil. Consuming fire sprang forth again, not touching the man that held the stone, for the intent of the magic was bound as like to like- but consume it did, supping on the morsel the shivering man proffered eagerly and hungrily as if it were a living thing that had wanted for sustenance for many moons.

Power. Yes, the wardings gave power. Power to withstand, power to bind even the currents of time, bid them turn back on themselves and warding ill-luck from those who bore the sigils given by the Father and the Mother. But there was no mistaking the danger inherent in the trammeling of such potent forces. Vladimir felt, as he worked through the day, reducing a pile of stone to dust and vapors on the wind, that some days he didn't even truly understand what the Keen-Folk did... and that was perilous. Perilous indeed.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 6:12 pm

Year 24

The great drought has subsided after only troubling the land for two years. The rivers once again run full, and game teems in meadows and forests.

Lyov: The artisan's journey to the north is uneventful, and he returns near year's-end to the Hvasskyn laden down with a wealth of lustrous shimmerstone. His tales of the changes in the dance of the night sky are much sought after around the Sunhold's fires, for the Keen-Folk have not investigated the skies nearly as completely as the member of their village who stood apart. Lyov happily described the slight changes in the nighttime dance in the far north, but perhaps equally as interesting to the sojourner was how little that tapestry had changed throughout his journey- the stars rose and fell much as he had expected them too, in their appointed places and seasons. A constant in the world that slipped ever more into the future.

by **Kelmet** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 7:30 pm

The Land of Lordaeron

By the Light

Another year, blessed by Light.

Varian-Warrior - Hunting for food.
Calia-Scholar - Researching Rudimentary Smithing
Natalie-Scholar- Researching Rudimentary Cultivation
Mara -Worker- Growing and nurturing the Barley crop. Expanding it if they can.
Mark- Worker- Growing and nurturing the Wheat crop. Expanding it if they can.
Baron- Worker- Harvesting local iron deposits.
Aiden-Scout - Staying at Zhou Clan to negotiate with Xcotl
Anveena-Scout - Returning to the tribe.

Vestubian- Character- Transcribing the "chant of light" a written collection of the lights religious and magical principles and practices.

Child, Male,5- Todler stuff.
Noteworthy relationships
Varian & Natalie - Together, parents of Baron & (*adopted) Aveena
Aiden & Calia - Together, parents of Mark
Avenna & Mark - Togather

Noteworthy roles
Varian- Leader
Vestubian- Shaman
Mara- "Den mother" figure

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Thu Nov 01, 2018 8:50 pm

The Honori People
Another quiet year over the Mesa

And as the rain once again filled the trickling river they based their lives upon, all they could do was thank the Gods for their mercy, and thank their ancestors for their foresight for times of crisis like these. Life continued onward, well fed, content. Looking towards the future, the Honori people gladly found ways to drastically increase their crop yields in the barren soil of their desert home. As the plants grew to feed them, so would they need to feed the plants, so they would grow. Rather grossly, Homa discovered a symbiotic relationship the tribe began with their fields. Human excrement, rotted food, plant matter, and ash could all be combined in a certain slurry of filth that greatly increased the field's vitality. Rather disgustingly, a large hole was dug, and all of such filth was thrown into the hole, while Arka tended it's management and application unto the fields.

The Honori, as a people, it was rumored anyway, just two short generations ago were sedentary folk, much like they were to this day. Not to the same extent at all that they could claim to be now, with a dependence of agriculture and monuments made of stones to last until further generations, but sedentary none the less- with simple mud and sticks for huts and a reliance on hunting and gathering- but they had, supposedly, lived in a much more fertile land- perhaps not even in the desert, but the plains, or the forests. Well, what remains of the specifics has been lost to time it is afraid, ever since the parental generation of the current Honori- with it's last vestiges in the old woman Homa- rapidly, and suddenly died off, leaving their children to greatly fend for themselves, and lacking the remnants of knowledge of their further ancestors. But, this streak for the desire for permanence seemingly never left the Honori, as they quested to better their grandparent's home far away, and began to prepare for another monument of stone, and, perhaps, a home of stone or, the newest idea of Homa- shaped clay brick. And so, like years before and years before that, Sumi was given the hardest job, forced into the most tiring of the tasks of the tribe, to which she was venerated for almost to a similar level as the old woman Homa or the leader Yuni. And so more and more large amounts of sandstone began to be quarried for these uses.

A new generation of lore was now accustomed Honori people, a whole new religion, based around whole new concepts to those of their ancestors. A break from the past, as their agricultural revolution became the center of their lives. The worship of the Sun and Moon, similarly permanent like their homes were, replaced their largely animistic past beliefs. The burial of the dead, for instance, began to be practiced for the first time. In the long distant past, bodies were burned, their ashes scattered, and their bones left to the winds to erode to dust. But today, past cremation, one might discover if they dug back up the bodies of the young dead beneath the village, they were buried under large rocks and a large layer of dirt beneath their home's hearth, signifying the symbolic importance of the hearth inside for heating during the freezing desert nights, but also giving real, practical credence to the fact they had no intention at all of migration any time soon. Scholars might however, look forward just a few years and notice the burial of their most honored dead lacked a key component of cremation, instead choosing a more ceremonial burial, but, alas, that is a story for the near future.

by **The Grim Reaper** » Fri Nov 02, 2018 4:17 am

Lyov, Firsthome

"And in the far north too, the stars do not leave their places, hanging in their patterns undeterred by the ongoings of us mortals."

Lyov's favoured teaching implement, for the purposes of teaching his tribeskin of the relationships between the stars, was a specific piece of shimmerstone. Particularly high quality, but irregular and difficult to work with, it sparkled with flashes of limitless life in different angles of lighting. Lyov had many time bemoaned the fact that he could not set it into his mosaic, but it had so many faces, valleys, and dimples. It simply couldn't be used to emphasize the beauty of its neighbours, too greedy for its own good. But for this single use, he found it exemplary.

He would delicately indicate the dots in the shimmerstone, speaking to their different tones and shades of colours, and drawing lines in the air between the dots. In the one piece of shimmerstone, it seemed, was every constellation that Lyov could convey.

Lyov knew that the seemingly two-dimensional projection of the stars on shimmerstone was an illusion. He had cleaved enough shimmerstone to know that what looked, at first glance, to exist only on a plane, could easily be separated into two along the concealed plane. The seemingly solid stone and the stars that made their home in it existed with distance, just as the world outside it. It thus seemed natural, explaining the stars as he did in reference to the shapes, patterns, and colours of shimmerstone, to understand the stars too as being in some unseen three dimensional space, hanging in the air. It was not an answer to a question he asked himself, but simply his first recourse. He knew that, whereever they were, in two or three or more dimensions, it was clearly beyond his grasp. For something to be so far away that from Firsthome to the far north they did not shift, he could not begin to comprehend their existence.

But he did comprehend them. And it was a comprehension he now felt he had to share.

In the mosaic, he wondered. Since joining the tribe, he had felt a profound need to fit in, and to understand a world that seemed to be a much less important part of his life. With freedom from the world around him, it seemed ever-more-important to be part of it. He started to feel as if he was achieving that. He started to feel as if he could soon give something back.

Lyov: Continues working on the mosaic; meditates on a concept of ritual to use the mosaic as a focal point for a social festival by canvassing for the opinions of his tribemates

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Fri Nov 02, 2018 10:37 am

Clan Bryre
Reshia's Pasture

As the sun shined upon the wide plains of the Bryre’s, the clan said their goodbyes to Ferren. Exchanging hugs, and handshakes. Even Chieftain Vallen, a man who didn’t like to show his soft side, happily hugged his fellow clansman. Tonight was going to be the last time they will see Ferren till years end. They wanted his send off to be a loving one, rather than a lonely one.

After Ferren left, Eshin begun to take his leave too, heading off searching for another region, to explore. Vallen was now the only grown man at the Clan, and while he hoped for his brethren to have safe journey’s. His fear that he would fail them was insurmountable. He lost his companion and daughter, what if he fails the entire tribe.

Only time would tell, and while Vallen fears for the worst the other clansmen are rather hopeful. Reshia works on collecting food, plucking sweet fruits from trees. Larren begins work on his father’s “Liquid Manus” theory. Rana works on sheep care, and Garrun begins building a clan stead out of clay bricks.

Vallen having nothing to do, will visit Drakeling Valley at one point this year.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Fri Nov 02, 2018 4:26 pm

Cadmus,Great Bay

"They have arrived the Hyvasskn!" Titus peered at the ship from afar, his olive skin, and jet black hair moistened by water. He was hunting fish, along with his brother Flavius in the bright azure waters of the bay the glistening marble cliffs overlooking them when he saw the familiar faces from beyond."Well, this is going to be interesting, I'm sure Brutus will want to know of this " Flavius said as he watched the travelers depart from their vessel. Titus remembered their first encounter, he was naturally curious and asked many questions, but he learned very little of these people. Now that would change. Forever.

"Welcome to Cadmus! I do pray that the gods granted you safe travel across the seas, " Titus said as he led Nadia and Ivan to the Circle. Flavius would relay the knowledge, to Brutus who sat in one of the huts pondering the issues that troubled his tribe.

Brutus's eyes glistened with wisdom, gained from many years of walking on Terratus after hearing the arrival of the southerners known as the Hvasskyn. Curious folk, who sailed on wooden vessels, across the breadth of the entire world, who knew what hardships and trials they faced in their quest to the Great Bay. Surely the gods had ordained that these people where to meet for a reason. Brutus greeted the tribesmen at the Circle of Arkane, where they exchanged formalities.

It was a lively discussion, as the two tribes, fraternized exchanging stories. The Circle of Arkane was a center of knowledge, and the Cadmians would share information they had garnered over the years. Overtime The Havassykn would gain the trust of the Cadmians and talks of an alliance were proposed where the young men and women of both tribes would be married off, a union that would benefit both tribes, for years to come.

by **Illegal Planets** » Fri Nov 02, 2018 4:31 pm

The Yngling
Saliae

A bright morning sun shines down upon a flat expanse of dry earth and sand. An oasis flourishes here, surrounded by a smattering of maize, squat trees, and flowering sourberry bushes. The Yngling, literally meaning 'born of the sand', have settled around the oasis, erecting a large adobe structure used to house the clan. A man and a woman, Azaz and Lea, wield small clay basins of water brought from the spring and carry them towards the many salt flats where they will mix the glistening white earth with the water in the basins before leaving the briney solution to evaporate in the sun. Another, older woman called Yda, is busy collecting flexible branches from the many sourberry bushes that grow near the water.

The oldest man, Gotorix, is alone, squatting over a large, shallow pit ringed with strange, discolored rock. It is distinct from the other stone, glistening in certain areas where the sun hits. Captivated by the glimmering of the ore, Gotorix descends down into the pit to take a closer look, armed with a crude stone pick.

Jin and Amlee, the youngest of the clan, set out together to explore east and search for game, while Dezi hunts near home. These three are armed with simple spears tipped with flint. All are dressed lightly in animal pelts. The men wear only loincloths, except Gotorix who sports a short cape which displays his status as head of the tribe. The women wear short, loose skirts.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri Nov 02, 2018 4:49 pm

Banks of the Great River, Firsthome
3rd of Windsong, Year 25

The return of the voyaging Keen-Folk was met with both joy and sorrow, one of the number removed that had been a dear son to the tribe, another new face to be known provided in its place. Such an outcome had been discussed the year before, ere ever man or woman had departed to sail upon the depths of the sea seeking a tribe of other men- though the Father and Mother had blessed their progeny with wives and husbands by and large, a boon in times when familiar faces were all too familiar and the endless stretches of the world silent. But if there were other races of men placed upon the Earth, truly they too must be, in their way, children of the Father, and so worthy of his love. There were those of the houses of the Hvasskyn who pined for a help-mate to be given to them, only for the watches of the night to be cold and lonely. Now a son was lost to House Nemtsov, but a daughter gained for the young strong and keen Alexei. Her speech was halting, after the manner of fair Lyov and the others like Gregor and Markus who had come only recently to the embrace of the tribe, but the few words she had were sufficient enough to display the twin juxtapositions of her obvious happiness in being given a man by the gods for her own, and her slight timidness at being so far away from family and friends.

Jarn sat on the wall of the Sunhold, and watched this cautious yet happy meeting with his eyes veiled. There was joy in his heart, yes, but also a wariness he had not felt in his many long years. He had not, he supposed, truly believed the wild tales of the seafarers when they spoke of meeting a man who claimed to be from a great and powerful tribe. Many of those who the Keen-Folk had encountered in the wide woods and vistas of the world had claimed as much, and though he had not doubted them, their claims had also all been proven hollow in so far as those civilizations and kindreds had long since passed from the marches of the present. But here was evidence, concrete and irrefutable, that another organized band of mankind survived- nay, prospered- not more than a few weeks or months of hard sailing from the place that the Mother had given to his people. The Nemtsov elder's heart was troubled, for though the Cadmians seemed of good cheer and near enough to the tribe of the Keen-Folk to have been accorded nearest kin, dark of hair and swarthy of complexion, it seemed all too likely to the elder's mind that this would not always be the case.

Men had a capacity for violence. This he had seen even in his own people, during tense arguments and fist-fights which had been defused only through wisdom and long fraternal bonds which held men back from evil. No such bonds would bind all tribes of the Earth, no matter how fair-hearted his own folk choose to see such things. Beneath the walls of the Sunhold a few weeks later the humble wedding ceremony of handfasting between Alexei and Emilia proceeded apace, the position where Jarn had sat abandoned for a smile and his role as village elder and leader. But the dark thoughts that had moved in the Nemtsov's mind at his contemplation were not altogether banished.

Jarn Nemtsov (Scholar) works on tough cotton bandages to use for wounds
Maria Nemtsov (Scholar) continues her experiments with coal, placing it at different places within the inferno to see how best the flames consume it
Vladimir Nemtsov (Scholar) sets to work developing a simple wooden dock reaching out into the Great River, for use with boats
Alexei Nemtsov (Scholar) begins smithing some simple iron hammers, for use in shaping stone and testing the properties of iron when compared to bronze
Celia Nemtsov (Scholar) begins touching and approaching the more docile of the cattle, familiarizing them with her scent
Ivan Nemtsov (Warrior) is married to Drusillia of the Cadmian Clan, given in marriage as a sign of alliance
Gregor Starborn (Warrior) guards the tribe and hunts wild game
Dmitri Rurik (Warrior) hunts local game and guards the tribe
Markus Sundsvar (Worker) labors to fertilize the rice paddy of the tribe with burnt ash, to increase its resilience in time of drought
Petyor Rurik (Worker) tends rice field, using wheelbarrow
Natalya Rurik (Worker) labors alongside Vladimir to erect the humble dock
Talia Starborn (Worker) tends rice field
Kursk Seaward (Worker) travels with Nadia up western coast, to harvest coal with the Windrunner
Sasha Nemtsov (Worker) mines meteoric iron in the east
Sylvia Sundsvar (Scout) explores S by SE by SE
Nadia Seaward (Scout) goes along with Kursk to harvest coal
Medicinal poultices traded to the Cadmian Clan in exchange for the secrets of Fertilization and Masonry
Alexei Nemtsov is joined with Emilia of the Cadmian Clan, his bride joining him in the lands of the Hvasskyn. They are now known as House Whitestone, after the pallid cliffs of her homeland joined to the white cliffs of the western marches of the Keen-Folk.
Kursk Seaward and Nadia Seaward seek another child to carry on their name
Gregor and Talia Starborn seek a child

Viktor Sundsvar (Young Worker) helps with the work of meteoric iron, supplying the furnace with shoveled coal
Harald Sundsvar (Young Scholar) learns of the workings of the Rune of Strength

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Sat Nov 03, 2018 5:14 am

Clan Serys

A Visitor Arrives

No time for fluff today sadly.

by **Ralnis** » Sat Nov 03, 2018 5:43 am

Xcolt
Concentrated By the Dead, Year 25

The drought finally subsided after two years but the crops and food supply had suffered greatly. Opono was healed and treated after her overexertion but was still weak. Zuma was still at the Zhou village to negotiate and Uli still hunted till the crops could be tended to. Opono hated to be weakened like that but the chieftain demanded her to rest as the two scholars try to tame the Great Wolves in order to stop them from plaguing their lands and turn it into a boon from Xu.

((Collab post made by GameTopians, Kelmet, and Ralnis))

The Land of Lordaeron, By the light.

Aiden made his way to the Zhou clan as he has done a few times before. The Scouts of Lordaeron were starting to become a regular face in the lands of the Zhou since the last few years expeditions have sent them threw their lands. Ever since the last exchange between the scholars of the to Aiden and the others had hoped that further cooperation would come of it and it seems those hopes were finally granted.

Besides the Zhou, Aiden had heard tales of the Xcotl people. Perhaps they to could be learned from? As the light guided him Aiden knew his responsibility and duty to his people.

His canoe creaked as Aiden brought it up to the shore, next to the outlet of a great river out into the ocean. The soft sand of the coast provided enough resistance to bring it to a slow stop as he slid up onto solid ground. Clambering up out of the primitive floating construct, Aiden could already spot his destination - the Zhou Clan’s camp, a roaring campfire providing a glimmer of color and light in an otherwise dull landscape. As he approached, figures in the camp itself became visible, popping in and out of wooden huts gathered a safe distance from the campfire. A group of three figures sat on logs by the campfire, leaning into it to ward off the bitter cold of the tundra. Aiden drew closer still, and the figures turned to face him. Welcoming smiles graced the faces of those who noticed him, and one yelled out.
“Wang! Come greet the foreigner scout!”
A man dressed in simple clothing exited the most central of the wooden huts, striding up to Aiden as both drew near the campfire. Aiden noticed that the three by the fire seemed ill - one more so than the others, but clearly all was not well in the Zhou Camp.

“Greetings, friend! What brings you to the home of the Great Zhou?”

“Very well my friend. Better now to be among others.” Glancing at the ill by the fire “By the Light what is wrong?”

“The Heavens have cursed us with a blight upon our crops. We seek a solution, but in the meantime our people waste away. Almost half our number have departed to collect more food and replace what was lost.”

“If there is a way my people can help we will. The Light will not turn its back on the hungry. Now tell me what should I expect from the Xcotl?”

“The men of the Southeast have visited us but once, a single man exploring our lands. We know little of their ways, and less of their language, though the man that came learned some of ours.”

Xcotl, Consecrated by the Dead

Zuma was late to to meeting the Zhou Clan for the Fergdun Clan had been hit with a sickness from the heavens. He was tasked by the chieftain to go seek out these Zhou for any aid or discoveries that they had. Other clans or tribes were always a mystery to Xcotl, always weary of what man would do. Man was always more cunning than animal, more cunning than the Great Wolves that they fight against.

Has he found the trail that lead to the camp, he felt the common uneasiness that came to meeting new people. It was fine to meet the Fergdun, who were cordial in trade till the beavers were running out. The Zhou were more mysterious though, and all must take caution around new people.

As he reached the grounds of the huts, he stopped as he kept his bronze spear near him and talked to the first tribesman that came to him.

“I Zuma, from Xcotl, speak to leader.”

Zhou Ping, carrying baskets laden with apples from the South, emerged from the tree line and into the Zhou encampment. Seeing Zuma, Ping halted his progress to the campfire.

“Greetings, foreigner.”

Hearing the man’s words, Ping glanced over to the campfire, seeing Wang speaking to Aiden.

“Our leader is currently speaking with another foreigner. You are more than welcome to join them.”
With that, he continued on his way, disappearing into one of the huts with his baskets of apples.

Zuma barely understood the strange words of the Zhou person, but he knew the directions to the campfire. He walked over there, marveled by huts and baskets but remembered that huts would never survive a trek through the arid lands of their Former Home, that which the Myths were taught to the folk. As he got by the campfire, he saw the mighty Zhou and some strange foreigner talking. He didn’t understand what they were talking about but he went to them anyway.

“I Zuma from Xcotl, came to speak to Zhou.

Wang turned at the sound of a new voice, extremely unfamiliar but somewhat comprehensible.
“And here he comes now. Greetings foreigner of the Southeast, you are welcome in the home of the Great Zhou. We wonder for what reason it is that you both have graced our lands with your presence?”

“Greetings Zuma, my name is Aiden from the land of Lordaeron. It is always a honor to meet new people on behalf of my tribe.” *Aiden extended a small waterskin for Zuma to drink from, a custom in the land of Light to extend trust to one another.

Zuma sat down after perching his bronze spear up behind him. The drink was water and filled him with some refreshing taste. Afterwards he began to talk.

“I come from the Southeast, beyond the Ruby Mountains of Fergdun and seek knowledge and discovery to aid Xcotl. We look to seek the many ills that have befallen our people. Tests sent by our Ancestors.”

Wang took a seat next to Zuma, laying the flint axe he held beside him.
“It seems that much ails all our peoples, friend. Aiden, what brings you to Our home?

“We lost Vistra a few years back, Varian believes that we need to start working with other tribes to survive, we just don’t have the numbers anymore. We were hoping to find others of similar mind.”

Wang’s eyes narrowed following Aiden’s words, staring at the ground in thought.
“I am interested in what you have to say, but am unsure of what it is that you have in mind. We cannot simply agree to collaboration with another without a plan, an agreement to which we may follow that is mutually beneficial for us all.”

“I know, thats why I am here. Each of us has things the others need, for example Lorderon is a rich fertile place with plenty of food. Food we would be happy to share in exchange for whatever your tribes might have to offer.”

“Xcotl has enough food, much needed to be replaced after drought. But Xcotl have metal, much metal that allows to make new things. But Xcotl wants more food and beasts. The beasts in Xcotl’s lands are not good. Dust Bulls too smart to be captured, Great Wolves too many and Ant-Hounds are mysterious. Yet the Ancestors have sent us their blessings to help us work, allow them to return and help us should we pay. We offer this for we don’t know what else to give.”

“And my Great Zhou, in turn, possess four great scholars and are at the center of our three tribes. I propose a collective effort from all the people of our tribes, so that we might all mutually prosper. It is only by laying out the deficiencies of all our tribes as individuals, and compensating for those faults as a collective, that we might all together secure the future for our children. What say you, friends?”
Wang smiled to the other two, more confident in this idea than he had been before.

“Varian had exactly this in mind when he sent me here. Xcotl was a welcome addition to his vision.”

“Xcotl is afraid of this, as am I” Zuma had said,” we do not like new people and this idea is too sudden for a choice to be made as quickly as now. Our people have not had much of a future for our children but it seems that we all suffer under the Dead.

Therefore, Xcotl will unite with this collective, if only to see the future and the Ancestors smile down upon us.”

“It seems we are in agreement, my friends, despite our misgivings. We should then agree on specific courses of action. I would like to put forward the following:
First: Our scholars should work to secure lines of transportation for food and, in future, other goods.
Second: Our warriors and scouts should work to subdue the animals of the surrounding regions, and attempts should be made to tame them with the help of our scholars.
Third: A collective effort should be made to better exploit the resources available to us, from the metals that remain un-meltable to the strange, calming black stone to the southeast.
I would seek your opinions on these tasks, friends.”

“The exchange of knowledge would indeed benefit us all…...Varian may be timid in sending our warriors to bleed for another tribe but he may be convinced. As for your last point, we all may have resources that each other can use.”

“Yes, the exchange is good, but the warriors of Xcotl are few and weary. It would take more than arms to subdue the beasts. But Xcotl is willing to try and foster a new friendship for the future of all peoples.”

((End of Collab post))

by **The GAmeTopians** » Sun Nov 04, 2018 7:28 am

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Nov 04, 2018 9:32 am

Year 25

Lyov: The work on the shimmerstone mosaic begins anew, now that Lyov is well-supplied with materials, and underneath his knowing hands the resplendent monument takes shape. His interrogation of the other members of the tribe about social rituals at first seems fairly unsuccessful, for the Keen-Folk have little in the way of what could be described as rituals or ceremonies of a religious or societal nature. Patient questioning, though, eventually reminds Lyov of the ceremony of the new dawn that he has seen many times, where the Hvasskyn greet the dawn on the day of the year when the cold winter nights begin to give way again before the summer's lengthening days. Mosaic (75%)

by **Kelmet** » Sun Nov 04, 2018 10:00 am

The Land of Lordaeron

By the Light

Another year, blessed by Light.

Varian-Warrior - Hunting for food.
Calia-Scholar - Researching Rudimentary Medical Care
Natalie-Scholar- Researching Primitive Cultivation
Mara -Worker- Growing and nurturing the Barley crop. Expanding it if they can.
Mark- Worker- Removing the blight from the wheat crop. Trying to have a child with Anveena.
Baron- Worker- Removing the blight from the wheat crop.
Aiden-Scout - Sending food aid to the Zhou clan.
Anveena-Scout - Searching for medicinal herbs . Trying to have a child with Mark.

Vestubian- Character- staying on hand to ensure healthy births. Researching holy light healing.

Child, Male,6- Todler stuff.
Noteworthy relationships
Varian & Natalie - Together, parents of Baron & (*adopted) Aveena
Aiden & Calia - Together, parents of Mark
Avenna & Mark - Togather

Noteworthy roles
Varian- Leader
Vestubian- Shaman
Mara- "Den mother" figure

by **Novas Arcanum** » Sun Nov 04, 2018 10:01 am

Cadmus,Great Bay
7th of First Seed

The people of Cadmus continued working on the Grand Temple. It was beautiful and radiated divine light. Brutus believed it would be a center of healing, and wellbeing, thus it would be dedicated to Itempas, god of medicine and healing, it is stated in the Cadmian tales that his bow and arrow of light obliterated the demons that haunted mankind, his fearsome wrath sweeping away the forces of death, disease, and despair. The Temple of Itempas, would serve as a bastion of medical care, and healing for eons to come.

Meanwhile, Ivan had been cordially welcomed to the tribe. He was a warrior thus would be great at hunting game, and fishing, together with Drusilla, they would form House Sol, and they would seek children once Drusilla herself was fully recovered. The medicine the Hvassykn had given worked miracles, and both Camilla and Drusilla were well on the path to recovery. It seemed things where on the up for the Cadmian people, and brighter days were sure to come.

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Sun Nov 04, 2018 2:17 pm

The Honori People
Another quiet year over the Mesa

A new year passes through the valley, and it seems only yesterday they could say the same. The Honori people had learned much throughout the previous year, and as the next generation approached maturity, they hoped much more could be done. The single scout leaving the village to distant lands became two, as both Arka and Shanti left in two separate directions into the unknown. Maybe more friends could be found in lands long travels away. and maybe they could convince those friends to join them.

It had been known, see, vaguely, that their not-so distant ancestors had indeed not only met, but bred with a large band folk not of their own blood. indeed, this is what gave them their lighter, red-brown skin, and wavy hair, as opposed to the tight tendrils of hair and earthen brown skin that once belonged to them. Arka too, proved to them that they must not have been alone, and provided her children with an even lighter, fairer red-brown skin, with similar long wavy curls. The legacy of a distant lack of isolation was in their blood, and it was certain to the Honori it must be honored, and the outside world must be found.

Back at home however, progress was slow, as Arka's attempts to fertilize the fields were steady, but not as fruitful as they would have liked. And so, when she left, they gave the task to another, hoping the newly grown Hano would do better, given his stregnth and aptitude for hard work from a young age. And as the young man learned what it meant to contribute to the hard work that kept them sustained, Suki, by herself, began a new monument. Down by the river, and the fields, an obelisk's base began to be laid from the stone she had cut. Homa had suggested it, and with the critical success of the pillar of life, as it had been known, they hoped similar blessings could be given to their crops. And so, all began to get to work, with their own jobs, looking towards the dawn across those distant mountains.

by **Adab** » Mon Nov 05, 2018 6:09 am

The Maelon, They Who Came Forth from the Mountains

The Divine Presence had been good to Maelon and his tribe so far. Life was peaceful and joyous in the cave where the tribespeople had made their residence. During the day the adult members of the tribe would go out, collect the food (and go hunting, if need be), and feed the goats, and at night they would gather around the great fire in the cave, offer a prayer of thanks to the Divine Presence, and consume their food as one tribe. They were making good progress with the goats; while some fled them, returning to their herd, the others were docile enough to stick around, and they appeared to have adapted well to this new environment. Attempts continued to be made to breed the goats. Little Asmamon's presence brought further joy to the tribe. With his irresistible smile and rambunctious behavior, he was truly a delight to everyone in the tribe.

One matter of concern was Kaina's wound from the bear attack. Although she appeared to be recovering, she once again had a bad spell and the wound was now beginning to fester. The tribe attended to her day and night, trying everything they could, making sure that she consumed more food - especially apples and occasionally meat - and drank more water than usual. Maelon halved his daily portion of the food and gave it to her. From time to time Maelon would lead his tribe in burning bear meat as a sacrifice to the Divine Presence, all the while praying for Kaina's speedy recovery.

by **The Grim Reaper** » Mon Nov 05, 2018 6:34 am

Lyov, Firsthome

His mosaic was nearly complete. He knew that with the last few pieces, still some months to come, the complex textures of the unpolished, rough mosaic would throw light into deep reliefs and sparkling reflections. Small regions of the mosaic were now revealing what seemed, deceptively, to be their true beauty, creating beautiful moments as the rays of the sun washed over them. But Lyov knew that the resplendant, full-scale glory of the mosaic would only be apparent with its completion. For now, it was but a shadow; like the allegory of the cave, a shadow that seemed to speak of all the possibilities of the world, concealing the true extremes of what it was possible to experience.

Lyov was well aware of the fact that this mosaic would allow him to earn a name for himself. He was keen to create a mosaic that would outlast him; that would become more a part of the tribe than the many who had been born into it. By extension, he reasoned, the memory of his work would be a memory of him, and he would thus gain the belonging he craved. He therefore continued his project to feature it in a ritual, a celebration of the tribal identity that would finally and assuredly secure for himself a position that could not be ignored, if only in the light of a single day.

In terms of its visual presence, he knew that the firepit he had carefully maintained in the middle of the mosaic would provide the greatest boost. He had refused to light it, for fear of ruining his grand surprise until the very last moment. Instead, when he required light to work in dark days, or heat to make the hidden characteristics of the individual stones or regions of the work more obvious, he painstakingly concealed the irrelevant parts of the mosaic with his clothing.

However, he had noticed something interesting. It was not a grand observation, but rather, now, the development of an instinct, the seamless application of his theory into practice. Despite knowing full-well that shimmerstone took on its most impressive appearance in the application of fire, a sufficiently bright fire seemed to him to make shimmerstone more dull. This was, of course, because it simply washed out the light - a bright fire forced one to squint their eyes, and made the reflections only a marginal impact on the visual field of the beholder.

This, he gathered, would be a perfect mechanism by which to emphasize the beauty of the shimmerstone.

So too did he, now a reasonably competent traveller, understand the effects of sleeplessness. It was disorienting, and disarming. It made one vulnerable, and left them at the mercy, it seemed, of nature. In those moments, more than any other, did he miss the protection of the tribe, and crave the simple luxury of a campfire. This too he saught to harness.

And he also had his moment - the equinoxes. The Hvasskyn already kept the winter solstice as a holy day. The winter solstice, he had learned, corresponded to the furthest bound of the sun's travel along the hemisphere - it had a counterpart in the summer solstice, he gathered, corresponding to the other bound, but which was not commemorated by the Hvasskyn. In between, however, the sun passed through a middle point twice a year. When it did so, it also reached its highest point in the daytime sky, seeming to be at its most awesome. These two are the equinoxes.

Having over time built his mosaic towards these previously known bounds, the solstices, it struck him that the mosaic thus implied a clear line between Firsthome, which had formed the starting focal point of the work, and the placement of the equinox.

Lyov now planned out his event.

It would take place on the day and night that he estimated to be immediately before the next equinox - and, he hoped, every equinox passing.

At midday of the appointed day, he would assemble at his side the youth of the village, and any who were willing to volunteer to give up their night.

His volunteers would be responsible for stoking a fire from the moment the sun touched the horizon well into the night, preparing torches and a ditch of water to extinguish the torches in, as well as some smaller satellite fires to boil water in.

They would work throughout the night, working and revelling in equal measure as they watched the shimmerstone take on its life.

Then, before the setting of the moon heralded the sun, he'd have the Hvasskyn roused from their slumber. Coming to the mosaic, they would each collect a torch. He would light his torch on the fire, and the light would be passed from torch to torch. He would tell the story of making the mosaic, which he was to prepare into verse - a verse for each step in the process and the people who had contributed to it.

There would be a verse for the work of Sylvia and the Sundsvar, whose explorations had first revealed to him shimmerstone and the many wonders that he had attempted to study. A verse for the Seawards, who had applied his theory of the double-hulled canoe to the discovery of the mysterious Cadmians. A verse for Maria and Jarn's Nemtsovs, who had introduced him to the Hvasskyn, their river, and their bronze, and to whom he had in turn given the wheelcart. A verse for the Ruriks, who had taken his wheelcart in order to give to the tribe the food that was so essential to the liberty he now had to create a mosaic; a liberty he did not take lightly, still remembering the days before he joined the Hvasskyn. Finally, a verse for the Starborn, founded as it was by the Rurik girl Talia, whose copper spears at so young an age had inarguably revealed the great benefit of tribal cooperation to Lyov.

At the end of each verse, each person with a lit torch would light another. He had quickly realised that this was a number that would grow quickly. On the first verse, only he would light a torch, making two. On the second verse, four people would have lit torches. On the third, eight, and on the fourth, sixteen. On the fifth verse, his last verse, every member of the tribe old enough to hold torch would have a lit one. At the end of this verse, he would instruct the tribe to extinguish the firepit with boiling water. The heat from the water would prevent it from cooling down the shimmerstone, allowing it to be spread all across the shimmerstone in order to help to accentuate and magnify the reflections.

The torches would allow the members of the tribe to cast long shadows on the mosaic, which Lyov hoped would be a beautiful, chaotic sight. The darkness of the shadows would not dull the stones, but in fact, throw their inner flames into stark contrast. The flickering torches would create a layered, shaded, multidirectional flood of human bodies, all illuminated from within by a heart of stones.

And then, as the sky started to take on the colours of sunrise, and the mosaic's natural light died down, he would have them extinguish their torches, and they would walk back towards Firsthome, as far as they could go before the light of the mosaic disappeared entirely. From there, they would watch the sun rise, consuming the embers of the mosaic and taking the labours of the tribe to the equinox noon, at the very highest reach of its path.

Lyov: Finishes his mosaic, prepares his Equinox Ritual including his mythology of the Hvasskyn Mosaic (a poetic recounting of the Hvasskyn's families). Starts to recruit volunteers who can help to develop and prepare for the ritual in their leisure time in case he's overlooked anything, and who will assist him on the equinox itself.

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Mon Nov 05, 2018 2:29 pm

Clan Bryre
Reshia's Pasture

No description.

A Strange World :: Civilization's Dawn (IC/Closed)

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