The sun rises on a new world- a world not like that you may know. Shattered by a catastrophic impact not long after the extinction of the dinosaurs, Earth is not as it should be. This impact, a star falling to earth, changed not only the shape of the world, but also her content; this star bore strange light and strange crystals, warping and altering the planet where humanity slowly arose.
You are one of the first tribes to form an actual civilization, a kindred of sorts that has banded together for survival. Men, not far removed from their primitive origins, but with the potential for so much more. Simple, unadulterated, and a story with as many branching outcomes as may be imagined.
The sun rises over many tribes, sons of vanished sires who have banded together for mutual defense and from bonds of fellowship. As it begins its journey up out of the west, the first tribe the sun gazes upon are the people of the Ainu. Their island home is said to stand far out to sea, a place of rolling hills and gentle grasslands where the wind walks wild. Rice grows plentifully near the pools that litter this region, and tubers may be dug from beneath the intermittent copses of tall firs. Blood-red ores of a provenance unknown to the Ainu can be found in the jagged cliffs that occasionally rise from the terrain. To their west and south tall mountains crown the sky, while the Mother Sea beckons to the east and rolling grasslands stretch away north.
Thence the sky-rider journeys over the lands of the Warclyfe, a folk who make their homes beneath the canopy of giant mangrove each as tall as a dozen houses. Veins of sun-colored stone may be found in the stream-beds of their tropical home, though their exploitation is made dangerous by the languid lurking alligators that patrol the mires. Hunting is good in this land, however, for small flightless birds the height of a man's waist can be found in great flocks that have little sense of self-preservation roaming hither and thither. To the west of the home of the Warclyfe high peaks rise swiftly, and on all other sides they glimpse naught save the azure sea.
In late morning light falls upon the homes of the Deepkin, workers of stone and soil who make their homes in a cavern beneath the roots of a great gnarled tree as old as time itself in their legends. Between scattered copses of trees and over amber grasslands they hunt mighty buffalo for their sustenance, drawing water from a river that meanders not far from the roots of their Mother. Green herbs that cheer heart and heal limb can be found flourishing in shadowy bowyers here, and sundrop metal is found in the cliffs by the riverside. Blood-red nodules of unbreakable stone can be found growing in the water here at times as well, which glow with an unearthly light when night covers the sky. From east to west the river runs, flowing from great woodlands unto great woodlands, a facet of the terrain which is repeated also to the north. To the south the amber grasslands stretch infinitely.
Anon the sun strides over the homes of the men of Corvus, whose small campsite atop a local hillock affords them an almost unparalleled view of the rolling plains about them. Endless acreages of pallid grain can be found within a minute's walk from their new settlement, though roaming packs of wolves with sandy skin that blends into the sunlit sea have proven a danger to lone foragers. Their food supplies are supplemented by hearty yams which grow in the shade of their hill, and the loping gazelle which migrate through this region frequently. On all sides save the east they are surrounded by this amber sea, but away east the land slopes upward swiftly into frowning mountains.
Near on her journey the sun also stares down on the Aederfolk, kinsmen who live near the banks of a shady river between sparsely scattered trees on an immense ocean of green. Ghost-white grasses which sing in the wind songs to warm the heart grow here, and twining reeds whose essence is a sweet nectar that fills the senses with heady joy sprout from the banks of the twisting river. Otters also play amidst the reeds, a source of pelts and meat for the swift and cunning. The coterie of plant life and animals is rounded out by humble deer, who hide in the small thickets from rare predators. Away to the west of the Aederfolk the trees grow close and hot, a steaming jungle, and east the land grows drier and harsher, trees disappearing almost altogether away from the watercourse. From west to east flows the river, and to both north and south the band of lush savanna is unabated.
Khortuun is the name the kindred the sun next gazes upon, men who make their nest next to a vast rift in the earth that yawns down into blackness. Their homeland is parched, barren, but innumerable streams dance down to the canyon, sustaining the lives of the folk who make their homes there. White crystal that hums with a strange resonance as men approach can be found here and there in the cliffs, and beautiful copper of great worth may be found upon the scorched ground about the canyon with ease. The people mainly subside upon hardy beans that grow in abundance near the canyon's edge, brown in hue, and by harvest large fleshy mushrooms which sprout in the caves which blanket the nearby landscape. The chasm is but an extension of the lands nearby, great snowcapped peaks falling from north, east, and west into the rift valley, a valley of dry bones and the great canyon which runs away southward.
In a similar vein but reversed live the People, the Manisaharu. On the heights of great peaks they cling to existence, making their homes in shadowed crags upon the mighty mountain, tending the shaggy yaks which also inhabit these heights as their brothers and the source of much of their sustenance. The shadowed peaks where snow falls frequently, even in summer, overlook cool eastern forests where mighty pines grow to great size, and are put part of an immense mountain range that marches endlessly westward, and also north and south. Small bright purple berry blossom near the snowline, known as the Breath of Ice to the Manisaharu, holding in them a cleansing essence which can turn back many spirits of disease and rot. Gleaming gray-dun metal marks the slopes nearby, something the People have yet to use, but suspect is of great value. Great snow leopards, dangerous but solitary, also walk these peaks, and are held in great respect by all of the tribe.
Altogether different than the canyon dwellers are the kindred of Machaka, who dwell in a deep dark forest where a black river runs. These tribesmen are cursed, or blessed, to live near spiders roughly the size of a man, or larger, who they worship, hunt, and fear at times. Glittering silver can be found in these midnight woods, which the people prize for its ability to capture the light of the moon, and for the ability to attract great white panthers who sometimes aid travelers beset by the arachnids. Heavy black stones may also be found here, that are of particularly strange provenance. The forest river gathers here from many sources, and runs away east, into even deeper forests. To the north the woods turn cold and are even more forbidding, and to both east and south the forest stretches endlessly. To the west alone do the trees appear more seldom, and is some open country to be found.
The Huanca make their homes in tall hills amidst a steaming jungle, the radiant warmth of their home a constant companion, the sun's face rarely seen but her radiance constantly felt. They dine on a repast of round tubers they term potatoes that may be found growing in abundance on their elevated hillsides, and rely on the pelts of the alpaca that roam this region for clothing. Fluffy white seeding plants can be harvested on the slopes of their homes, and the rust-colored ores that are to be found here are also an opportunity for the future. Through their lands from north to south a river flows, falling in great cascades from humid peaks, and running away into interminable swamplands and jungle depths. To the east the jungle also continues, but west the land grows dry and gasping, and the Huanca do not go that way, for the hot sun there shines unhindered by cloud or shade.
The next tribe the sun sees are named the Huang, a folk that live along the Jade River and fish her depths. Immense shoals of silver riparian beasts may be dragged from the depths here, and activity most Huang enjoy, alongside their chewing of a bitter root which is said to give vitality and long life. Water buffalo with mighty curving horns they hunt upon occasion, when the tribe has need of meat that does not taste of mud, and fine blue-gray stone outcroppings litter this region. Southward their river opens upon a mighty sea, and to the east, while northward the trees and warm sun grow hot, a grassland becoming a jungle. Westward rolling acres of green beckon.
As the sun sinks downward in her journey, she comes upon the people of the Riverlands, a quiet folk who live at the mouth of a quiet river. They make their homes in dense stands of oak trees that cover the river in leaves during autumn, and chew on husks of the maize that grows here when their gleanings have not been sufficient for their needs, which is almost never. Beautiful veins mark the stones near the river in orange and yellow, and waving stands of fragrant golden flowers are found rarely in the heart of the copses which occur in this grassland. From west to east their river flows, emptying into a great shimmering sea. West and south grasslands roll, but north the oaks grow numerous and close together, crowding out the light.
When the day is ended and the moon rises, the sun finishes her travels in the lands of the Pennenthelli. They live too along the banks of a river, which flows up out of the south before emptying into the eastern sea. Sundrop ore is found here as well, and beloved for its luster by the Pennenthelli, prized alongside the beautiful red wood of the firs that grow here sighing in the wind. Great red rubies found rarely in the river's wash are ornaments the kindred here adore, though to hunt them is perilous - sinuous creatures with eyes of shadow and forked tongues hunt in the shallows after the unwary, a danger to all who walk these lands...
And so the sun sets, and then rises anew, a fresh day of Civilization's Dawn.
The Saladonian Band, itinerant traders and merchants, are travelers upon the face of the world. On verdant plains they roam with their heavy sledge laden with useful goods, near vast herds of wild horses, and hunting boars that make their homes eating tubers from this soil. Their sledge is heavy with valuable native copper ore, and they have discovered that a short distance north and a slightly longer distance east a tribe named the Machaka make their homes.
The Hesukar Band, great warriors and men of faith, wander the frozen north. They are hardy folk, accustomed to trials and overcoming them. Great arctic wolves, tamed and domesticated into shaggy dogs with snow-white and black pelts, trot alongside the band, their allies. Near the fringe of the northern Arctic vortex they roam, with boreal forests to both east and west, and the taiga north. South warmer plains beckon. The cold plains they roam now are often covered in shaggy herds of mammoths, hunted by great cave lions. Immense lizards, each as long as a man, also burrow in these frozen plains, spitting balls of fire at those that approach their dens.
The Varruk Band lives on a wide cool plains, beneath the arms of warding mountains. To the east and south the Mountains of the Sky rise, forbidding and cold, watchers of the hunters and nomads who flourish beneath their arms. To both the north and the west the wide plains of golden grass roll away in a great sea which seems to stretch forever. The Varruk are masters of horses, having tamed the mighty beasts, and occasionally even dare to ride them bareback, though the beasts take ill to this imposition from all save Varruk himself. In this land which they call their own bright blue flowers of fair flax flourish, and green malachite can be found beneath the foothills. Amber winter wheat grows wild in great stands throughout the countryside, and gorgeous white limestone protrudes in great outcroppings from the bones of the earth.
The Nirari Band, nomadic hunters with impressive bows of horn and heartwood, also roam the lands of the changed world. They walk now the light forests of the sun, where chestnuts grow, the great grizzly bear walks, and malachite may be found. Their numbers are less than those of more sedentary tribes, but their ability to live off of the fat of the land is unparalleled, and their singing arrows have downed many who thought to best them with sheer numbers alone. Their story, too, is one of a Civilization's Dawn.