A Strange World: Civilization's Dawn [Revival] [IC]

by **Ostnea** » Thu Jul 18, 2019 1:51 pm

Eliphas Clan

The clan buried two of their own in the past year, and all were behind themselves with grief. If these losses were of the older members of the tribe, their grief would be no less, but the loss of children, especially those who had seen so little of life hit especially hard. One son of the tribe had never lived, his spirit deprived of him in his mother's womb. Young Barba, who was just beginning to toddle and talk, was taken not long after. Mabe was beside herself with grief, and turned to prayer. The Great Spirit could heal, this the tribe knew, but she felt impotent when her daughter fell ill and withered before her eyes, and sought a blessing, the ability to heal with her hands. Jass left her undisturbed, and hunted the new wooly inhabitants of the woodland home, burdened by the thought that his sin had cost the tribe a son and a daughter.

Hillin and Etha, though they had lost a son before birth, continued their amorous relationship, though Etha was taken with a desperate fervor. The menfolk of the tribe simply concluded she was baby-crazy, though Mala dismissed this. As a former childless woman herself, she knew of the emptiness she had felt when the clan was filled with the joys of infant laughter and she merely had work.

As for Mala, she would be spending the year making pemmican for storage. The tides of fate, she reckoned, had begun to turn against the clan, and they would be needing the surplus. If the next year was better than the last, however, she would be able to free to do what she wanted. She thought of building a new shelter, as the current one was a bit crowded, especially in these times of illness.

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Thu Jul 18, 2019 6:54 pm

Lucius Arkon, Meadowlands
The years in this valley were prosperous, he had been met with a filled stomach and a relatively ‘secure’ spot to sleep. In reality the fact of no dangerous species what led him into sleeping comfortably during the nights. With this he could essentially live off the land with ease.

This was not to last forever however, as Lucius while comfortable with this way of living was not content with it. He was preparing for another hunt before his departure. Sharpening the tip od his spear. Ready to kill another beast of fluff and depart yet again to find a tribe, a person, anyone.

The years weighed heavily on Lucius. The solitude, the silence… this was to much even for him. Lucius was always a man of isolation, solutude. Preferring to stay out of trouble, outside the scope of attention. Perhaps this was what made him so despised by the chieftain. Lucius changed his train of thought, now was not the time to dwell on the past.

Wrapped around his waist was his previous prey. One of the unfortunate ‘flufflings’ that met Lucius and his crude spear in the previous year. It was time to hunt another to wear over his waist. How he despised the winter days, and yet this pelt could provide at least some warmth, and maybe even some dignity that he was deprived of when he was exiled.

He set forth spear in hand, ready for the hunt.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Thu Jul 18, 2019 8:21 pm

Ulm Tribe

by **Ralnis** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 7:12 am

De Wah Del-Aton

by **Nuxipal** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 9:12 am

The lands of the Silver River Tribe were once more blessed with storytelling and celebrations as two new members of the tribe were at the age in which they would be given their adult names by the Mother Mountain and the Silver River which flowed from her. Mia was dipped into the waters and emerged as Aila, Rua became Rayla. The celebrations were wonderous as the tribe competed with Atlatl to see who could bring in the biggest Caribou over the next week and who could get closest to a Llama before it moved away from them. For the former, Llyrin won bringing in a Caribou that Sylri and Thokk both had to help him carry back to the tribe, which provided a great deal of food for the celebratory week. For the Llama competition, Young Aelar was the winner here, going so far as to climb on the back of a llama without it so much as moving away from him. A true llama whisperer in the making he was.

The year's true activities picked up immediately following the celebrations as Thokk began assisting in the building of at third shelter with Sylri using the oak wood previously collected as well as bones and Hides from the Caribou hunts. After this shelter was completed they would be able to not have to crowd into their shelters any more and would have significantly more personal space. The two workers found themselves having a long list of things to construct and not enough time or materials to complete all of them just yet.

by **Olthenia** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 9:48 am

The Korthuun

Hairy beasts that walk on four legs, and a stillbirth. Woe and plenty are bestowed upon the children in this year. Alas.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 11:01 am

The Sea-Blessed

Year of the Pallid White
Heights of the Whitehills

The solemn process in the darkness was lit only by a few dim torches, mainly clustered around the tiny bier which two figures carried on their shoulders. It wound up from the forest floor, up through the silent trees and dark shapes before dawn. Pale snow glinted in the firelight, still piled in deep drifts where the hollows of the hills kept it from the spring's enfolding light; there was a chill in the air that spoke of a winter not yet vanished, a dark time which clung still in the heart of men.

As the column processed gradually they emerged from the shadows of even the tallest cedars, into the high windswept moors on the eastern side of the Garth, looking toward the sea. Cold bone-white stones pierced the deep black earth instead of the roots of gnarled trees, and emerald moss-grass was replaced by sparser heather and clover which flowered in a panoply of pale gold and ivory. The track at the feet of the travelers was worn by the passage of uncounted journeys, many of the heavy stones that clambered up the heights distinctively cut by the drumming of sojourners as they ascended throughout the years. It was an ancient path, one trod by the progenitors of the Sea-Blessed since memory had become legend, and legend had become myth.

But still they ascended. Ere dawn they reached the apex, the great peak of the Whitehills, where monumental stones - some said laid by the hands of giants, some said placed at the foundation of the world - gazed out toward the sea. Pillars of purest white, set against resolute shale and hardest black granite, they greeted the radiant purples, crimsons, and scarlets of the air before dawn.

Gently the bearers placed their burden upon one of the larger slabs of granite, a stone as wide as four men laying abreast and twice that length. The pale white furs enfolded a tiny body, one who had never known life, peaceful in death. Out toward the shimmering waters of the ocean the tribe looked, some with faces tracked in tears, others as stolid as stone as they held their grief inside.

Death was always a constant companion of life. The Father had given them many great things, but in the midst of prosperity, trial too could be expected. To the tribal leader, Jarn, and his mate, much had been given - but sometimes the ways of the world could be cruel too. Two daughters and a son, and now a son taken before his first breath. For all their mastery of the world, the knowledge of the ailments of the body, corruption still laid within the flesh.

After some had rested from the climb, particularly those still young, Jarn spoke aloud, his voice filled with unshed tears.

"A light that never burned. Return now to the Father, Paulus, and we may see you given back to us in glory, in his good time."

Mumbled voices, some sobbing, returned the refrain. Then down onto the bier the father of the slain child cast his torch. Fur and thatched grass, wicker and wood soaked in resin - these all kindled in an instant. As the sun blazed in the sky, home of the Father, so too did the little bed of the sleeping child become a sudden inferno. Clean and pure the devouring flames roared, and the tribe stood in silent contemplation until the white ash and cool coals were all that remained of their loss.

Then back down the hills the Sea-Blessed trekked, poorer for their misery, but comforted by the remembrance of their place under the heavens.

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 11:04 am

The Pentakuk, Year 9

The sounds of scuffling feet could be heard throughout the day. This was a sign from the land, no certain doubt of it. First, left the reindeer - which should have been their sign to leave. But now? Even the beaver, who, just as the Pentakuk, shape their world, just as the world shapes them. The mythical rok now stalks their land, striking such terror that even the fearsome wolves have left for the mountains. The cycle must continue, the people must find a new home. While the two gatherers stayed back to collect supplies, the warrior, the scholar, and the children moved to better ground. Kept safe and warm by their new hide clothes, they marched off, carrying those who couldn't yet walk, and comforting those who were fearful of the outside world. All the while, with news of others out there - far, far from home - perhaps they would learn more about the great earth, beyond the pines.

by **Elerian** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 11:09 am

Aederfolk

by **The GAmeTopians** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 11:57 am

The Men of Aten
The Bay of Aten

by **The Grim Reaper** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 12:07 pm

Apophis | Year 9

Apophis was proud. His pottery had become beautiful.

Well, not particularly beautiful. Functional was a better word. But to Apophis, this was the very height of aesthetics. He found himself looking for the future at the bottom of his jar; something that people would, someday, say with a very different meaning in a similar context.

His vision was now clear. It was time to stuff his pottery to the brim with as many strawberries as they would fit. It was time to invent alcohol.

Action: Apophis studies fermentation and attempts to invent strawberry wine & strawberry vinegar.

by **Theyra** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 5:31 pm

The Ciaráin

Another year as gone by and this proved to be a quiet one. Nothing of major importance happened either good or bad. Dáire hunted in the south, Meibhín searched for a husband in the southeast and failed. The clan's children grew a year older. Eirnín failed to find a use for the mineral that is found in the southwest and considers what other ventures he should take. It dawned that there could be an easier way to carry the mushrooms and edible grasses. So he focused himself to make it easier. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan would do there normal routines. Meibhín heads this time to the northeast and wonders if she will find a husband or anyone for that matter.

by **Nuxipal** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 5:52 pm

The Year's Turning
Year Nine

The Eliphas Clan works the forest’s well this year collecting a great deal of food for the tribe. So much so, that one morning they awake to find two wanderers approaching their home. The older, a female scout aged 24 and her brother, a trained warrior of the age of 12. The two of them wish to join the Eliphas Clan as the scent of their food is what drew them here in the first place. Even with these two eating from the supply for the year, the clan is able to preserve a significant quantity of food for the next year.

Lucius Arkon, the bane of all that is sheep continues moving along, eating his mutton and wearing his sheep skin cloak that he fashioned for himself. The man comes across a flat riverland, however, he finds no sheep here. The only beast which he finds are wolves. Enormous in size, he would call them Dire Wolves, straight from his former tribe’s tales. He must be careful in these lands. The river itself runs from the west towards the east.

Ulm, the Tribe of Ulm, what can be said of them this year is quite a tale. From starvation to having a sufficient quantity of food. Starvation held at bay this year and they are able to try and recover their strength. Mombert, Thusnelda, and Wigburg return to health. Leaving only Landriche ill this year.

The lands of the De Wah Del-Aton are filled with a cacophonous chorus at all hours of the day and night. To make matters worse, during the night there seems to be something happening to their supply of food, reducing what they gathered The tribe itself seems to grow weaker as the year marches on as illness creeps into their bodies from the lack of food. By years end, everyone in the tribe is ill with two exceptions. Que, who was previously ill seems to have recovered entirely and is healthy. The other, Tartar, dies grabbing at his empty stomach as winter weather puts an end to harvesting new food. The silver-lining to the year is the discovery of a mystic tune which Isha claims can cure members of the tribe of their illnesses. (Discovery of Mystic Healing Music Arcana)

In their comfortable river valley, the Silver River Tribe went about their lives as what they believed to be a wanderer arrived to join them. Instead this traveler revealed themselves to belong to a tribe west of the mountains in cold Forest. While a small language barrier existed, there seemed to be many words shared between them. The stranger stayed for a few weeks before departing again. With the departure of the traveler, there was again, ample food for the tribe as they seemed content to primarily hunt while the new Shelter, the strongest yet made from Oak, was raised (Quality 3). As for the tribe’s forays into learning to garden both through natural and arcane means, they failed. Unable to learn how to replant the edible grasses or to cause them to grow faster. The tribe can rejoice however, as a child was born to Pyra and Tafari who was in good health and the child Nim seemed to grow out of their sickly infantile state.

A hard year for the Sea-Blessed who can be thankful for the excess food saved from last year which held off starvation this year. Sylvia seeks out specialized herbs which were described to her and returns with normal medicinal herbs and a single dosage of the Mother’s Gift herb she was looking for. She is able to describe where she found it so that the tribe can harvest this specific herb whenever they need to. Hunting and fishing seem to bring up a sizable quantity of food, but fail to feed everyone during the whole year. As they hunger, rationing their food supplies the evil spirits visit them once more. Vittoria seems to be on death’s door every day during this time, she however does not die. Her illness remains, but Maria’s constant treatments seem to be what have kept her living for another year. During this time, while progress is made on distilling salt and basket weaving, neither of them are completed this year.

Migration, Migration is difficult. The Pentakuk however, manage to meander up river following the beaver as they leave the region. They are able to continue their hunts in these lands and bring in a plentiful food supply for the year. The lands they previously explored give them ample ability to thrive even with the move. They, however, lack shelter for the time being and their labors are split to ensure that the tribe is fed instead of housed. Kakortok travels up the river she found and discovers a tribe of people living there are well off and living a life of plenty. When she returns, both she and Anjin give birth. Anjin has a sickly boy and retains her own health while Kakortok has a healthy baby girl and also retains her health. Qimmiq finds medicinal herbs(2) to assist the tribe while Anjin is able to complete her basket weaving technique giving the gatherers of the tribe an additional tool to carry more back to the tribe.

On their coastal plains, the Aederfolk have lived on the edge. This year is no different, creating a sufficient quantity of food for the tribe during the year. They finish creating the pen that they plan to be used for the Tarpan this year and create another atlatl. Llyr, even with Cyhr’s help, is still unable to perfect the art of casting the melted metal which his people are able to create. The girl child regains her health after a long period of sickness following her birth, however, Cyhr remains ill. It seems that the last childbirth has taken a great deal out of her, enough that she needs another year to recover.

The Men of Aten work the land and their bay furiously this year. Bringing in food and help their ill tribes people recover from their current illnesses. Because of this hard work, they find themselves greeted by a stranger. A young woman arrives in the camp and asks to stay. She is 21 and a scout and is accepted into the tribe and can begin to assist the chosen of Aten in the coming year. However, the illnesses seem to persist in all except for the young Dalin, who overcomes the sickness which had taken hold in him.

The wise Apophis continues his work with trying to recreate the fermented berries he found in the wilderness. His past failures have led him to this point. As he looks to see what his labor has brought forth he is not disappointed. The bottom of the sun-dried vessel has a layer of fermented liquid. He checks some of his other experiments and finds the same in most of them. However, aside from the outright failures, there are a few which are significantly more bitter than the rest and have a very acidic smell to them. Regardless, he feels successful in his endeavour this year. With his accumulated knowledge, he has to wonder, should he seek out a tribe to join, or shall he remain alone at the edge of his lake.

The lands of the Ciaráin are alive with the sound of progress this year. As the tribe brings in enough food for the current members to live off of, the scholar Eirnín correctly discovers the method of basket weaving. This success is significant for the gathering abilities of the tribe’s future as they will be able to carry more food back to the tribe in a given trip. In the northeast, Meibhín searched the land for a man to call her own. Instead only finding silvery metals which looked appealing to the eye. Upon her return she discovered that her tribe was more healthy than it had ever been. Sickness and death seemed to have left the tribe’s bodies and they were as fit and healthy as they possibly could be.

In the new home of the Korthuun a year of rest and recovery takes place. However, it seems too much rest has been taken by the tribe as food resources fall short of needed levels again this year. Hoska complains about being the only one hunting for food and that he should not be suffering for the lack of action from his tribemates. During this time Hoska’s illness remains as he brings in food for the tribe. Agol, who worked hard to make a shelter (quality 2) for the tribe falls ill himself. Merved benefited from her lack of hard labor and has regained her health, similarly, Endir also regained her health. The strange year of lack of food, but members of the tribe swapping illnesses is capped off by both scholars being unable to discover what they were seeking leaving the tribe without a means to cure them of the illnesses they suffer from with more simplicity.

This is the account of the Year. Another Year now begins.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 8:28 pm

Ulm Tribe

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Fri Jul 19, 2019 8:30 pm

Lucius Arkon, Riverlands
Lucius kept walking through the river lands with caution. There were furred monsters in these lands, beasts of paw and fang. In this realm of claw and tooth, mortal men must be wary else they face being slain by such creatures. He passed through the region along the river, making his way ever eastward. If ever encountered the beasts, he would have his back secure as it faced the river, and if things got bad he could attempt to cross it to safety. This way Lucius could ensure his survival with relative ease.

Still though, this was a place not to be trifled with, and while no packs could be scene nearby in these riverlands, a lone dire wolf had been tailing him. Lucius eyed the beast with curiosity, these beasts seemingly hunted in packs, so why was this one alone? A sad thought entered the forefront of his mind, so he must be like me, a outcast. I guess even animals have to whittle out their packs. The beast looked hungry, being that it hunted alone, it didn't get to enjoy the spoils that a pack would have. Lucius empathizing the beasts situations tosses that last of his remaining mutton to the beast. He hated to see that beast look so hungry and desperate, it reminded him of himself many years ago, a hungry fool without the luxury of clan spoils. Hopefully this wolf would find its own path, a life where it itself can survive.

As the wolf feasted on the mutton, Lucius continued his journey, travelling eastward leaving this land of wolves and with hope to find his mortal kin.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 10:41 am

The Men of Aten
The Bay of Aten

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 10:49 am

The Pentakuk, Year 10

A new home - such a task was daunting, to put it lightly. Yet, things seemed to be going as they should, and though times were tough, they were also bright. Bright with the fires of day and night, bright with the smiles of plentiful healthy children, and bright with the warm light of discovery. No hands were empty, no one without a thing to do. For the whole tribe undertook a plethora of activities which not only guaranteed their present survival, but their continued existence in this bitter cold land. The previous year, Kakortok had returned with a gift that left everyone stunned, and with stories of a tribe, similar to their own, but who lived between the kind and protective cliffs of a valley to the east. But the true amazement was in her stomach, large with pregnancy, said to be of the tribe's elder, Tafari, who had taken a liking to her. She came with warm greetings, and a message: asking if their wise women could meet, and discuss how they survive in their lands. With a cautious acceptance, Kakortok made plans to leave the camp, and kissed her sickly child goodbye. She left to go back to the camp of the Silver River, and back to Tafari. She missed him dearly, and missed the friends she had made there. And yet- too she missed her child, though she had not left yet. Begging Qimmiq, the medicine man of the Pentakuk, to take care of the ill child. He embraced her, and made an oath to protect the boy with his life. With all settled, the scout and the wisewoman departed, to leave the frozen forest, and enter the lands of the silver river.

by **Nuxipal** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 10:55 am

The discovery of another tribe's existence changed how the Silver River Tribe acted. They felt united, but also decided that they could do with some of the warmer clothes that the scout arrived with. An exchange of information would benefit both of the tribes. Tafari and Pyra would go with the Pentakuk scout named Kakortok back to their village for the year, while one of their scholars would stay with the Silver River Tribe for the year. The exchange was to hopefully make the two groups more familiar with one another and permit a friend in the future should one tribe or the other find themselves in danger.

This year, Ixidor was nearing the age when he could help the tribe. So far he just played with Aelor and the other children. The oldest of Tafari's children has a great deal expected of him, As such when the other scholar arrives he follows them and Meru around trying to learn everything he can. He wishes to assume his father's role as the senior most wise person when he gets older and thus, when his training can begin, he wishes to train with Tafari or Meru.

While Meru knows she won't perfect the greenhand magic this year, it was deemed important that she study alongside the visitor so that she could be most successful in teaching her tribe how to craft warm clothes from caribou hides.

by **Ralnis** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 11:49 am

De Wah Del-Aton

These are the last days of them, they will all die and no one will remember them.

2 scholars use healing mystic healing music to try and heal the tribe if they can
everyone else tries to hunt to survive.

by **Ostnea** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 12:15 pm

Eliphas Clan

The clan was surprised by the two new folks showing up at their campfire. Initially the menfolk jumped up and grabbed their spears, and women grabbed the children and prepared to run back into the hut. When the brother and sister broke out in laughter, the ice was broken and the fear of the stranger gone. These folks were not ghosts, the aged spectres of the dead children they had lost two years back. They introduced themselves in a foreign, yet familiar tongue, and were invited to sit around the camp fire and share in the clan's bounty. Their names were unknown to the Eliphas, so the clan decided to rename them as a rite of passage into the clan. The woman would be named Cin, the boy Eli. Cin entertained the clan with tales of the trails they had travelled, after their clan collapsed from infighting. Eli was more reserved, but as the clan celebrated a decade in the Woodlands, he joined in the festivities and proved himself a good fighter, despite his young age. Hillin took a liking to the boy, and suggested they hunt together, which Eli accepted

With two new members, the one shelter the clan had was now packed. With food stored from the prior year and hands idle, the two workhorses of the clan Mala and Etha, would be building a new shelter for the clan to use.

With no success in prayer, Mabe returned to the mundane. With the food excess, especially in meat, needing to be stored, she began to experiment with cooking the meat longer and over a smaller flame, in an attempt to preserve it for longer.

by **The Grim Reaper** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 12:23 pm

Apophis | Year 10

He had become stir-crazy; he pined for the world he knew was out there. Apophis had a rough understanding of the world that was directly about him, but he still felt as though he was striking into something uncertain and isolated. He had come to appreciate the water, which offered not just safety but the food that he was totally dependent on. His fish traps were the larger part of his diet, serving admirably in protecting him from the ravages of hunger whilst freeing him to explore the various intricacies of the world.

He resolved to stay with the waters, at least, for a little more time. He had come, faintly in his memories, from the northwest, and he remembered that he had not been able to go further east because of the towering mountains whose shadows he had followed. So he decided that it was time, after so long, to break from their humbling gaze - to embrace who he had become, as someone who did not follow the whims of the Earth, but tamed fire and water.

Apophis had precious little, but they would support him. He would bind together his fish traps with strawberry vines, tying them to his chest, and he would take an amphora of strawberries with him. These, he hoped, would support him comfortably as he proceeded down the lake's edge - if the worst should happen to him, he would be able to fall back on this essential safety net.

Action: Apophis follows the lake's edge in a westerly direction. He lashes his fish-traps to his body and uses some of them as makeshift baskets to carry his clay jars, which he tries to fill with strawberries before he leaves so that they can be allowed to ferment. He sets his fish traps in two distinct clusters, giving him a forward base and a fall-back base which leapfrog each other, and makes up for the complexity of his preparations by sacrificing some of his portly weight on a harsh pace.

by **Olthenia** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 1:04 pm

The Korthuun

Once again, the children of the Lonely Mountain have weathered a year of both weal and woe. But so be it. None of them are in the ground as of yet - and that, at least, is a mercy.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 5:26 pm

The Sea-Blessed

Year of the Sundered Arc
Base of the Mother Tree

In and out the lengths of stripped fiber went, knotting together under careful fingers to make a varnished whole. It was a mentally undemanding task, which left much time free for talking and singing to the children as Maria worked, the weaving of the plant-strands. The young children ran here and there, some playing about the tree roots and through the twisting labyrinth of the ancient cedar's gnarled bowls, others content to trace and play with each other in the dust.

"Dama! Come sit here and see the alpus root."

Vittoria's voice was not as strong as it could be, but it was recovering. Ample food, good sunshine, and the ebbing of the dark winter that had brought her illness were slowly banishing the sickness from her limbs. A quick glance from the chief's mate told her that more color was returning to the worker's face, and that was a good thing indeed. Her illness had been long and hard, longer than any the Sea-Blessed had otherwise known, but she was nearly cured. Indeed, in the days past she had felt well enough to range beyond the compound, seeking out edible roots and berries for the kindred. They had come close to the limits of their reserves in the last winter, as mild as it was, and that had been a dangerous time indeed.

Obediently the little girl with her emerald eyes slumped down next to one of the hewn stumps, and dutifully she stayed for several minutes, learning as Vittoria told her how to tell if the roots were ripe, what their leaves looked like in spring, and fall, and how to cut and prepare them for cooking. Her attention was much better now than when she had first started learning - a sign of maturity, certainly. Some of the tribe's children were nearing their ninth and eighth winters, and were nearly waist-high in their gangly growth which would soon shoot up into the flower of man-and-womanhood.

But that was a concern for the future. A familiar knock at the doors of the palisade brought Maria to her feet, and a hurrying came when the door was opened. Familiar arms enfolded the woman, and small children shrieked and ran for the gates with cries of "Daddy!" and "Jarn!", respectively. His hands and the hands of his daughter Elvira were marked with salt and brine and the sandy earth of the shores, but their eyes were happy to be home again.

by **Theyra** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 6:29 pm

The Ciaráin

Things are easier for the Ciaráin as Eirnín was able to figure out how to make baskets. Both Ruari and Saraid thanked Eirnín for this discovered as it made easier to carry more food back to the clan. With more food, the clan has become healthier and any trace of sickness has left their bodies. They prayed and made offerings to the gods as they became healthier. Eirnín with confidence under his belt from making the baskets, he thought of something that he had a great interest in but, has put it off. The Guar taht lived in the north. He remembers that when Meibhín traveled up there years ago, they seem calm enough that Meibhín was able to pet one. Maybe they useful for the clan and makes his way up north to study them. While Eirnín was doing that, the rest of the clan do their normal routines and Meibhín heads far south on her quest to find a husband.

by **Elerian** » Sat Jul 20, 2019 10:23 pm

Aederfolk

A Strange World: Civilization's Dawn [Revival] [IC]

Year 9, Silver River Tribe

Year 10, Silver River Tribe

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