The shaman option is indeed basically a soft/proto-spartan path, where the religious authority would be divested somewhat from the high chief's role as military leader and legal authority.
At this time the shamans probably aren't organized enough to have a leader of their own, or want to co-lead. Their current role is part medicine men, part lore keeper, and a lot of on the fly explanations for how the spirits feel. But if the tribe pushed them into it they wouldn't turn away the extra responsibility/power…
[X] write in: A test including different skills that must be completed, testers chosen by a council of clan heads. Whoever passes becomes the new leader. Upon a leaders death, first preference of who is to be tested should be to that leader's children, however, they may be challenged at anytime, even after becoming the leader, so that whoever leads is always kept sharp
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] write in: A test including different skills that must be completed, testers chosen by a council of clan heads. Whoever passes becomes the new leader. Upon a leaders death, first preference of who is to be tested should be to that leader's children, however, they may be challenged at anytime, even after becoming the leader, so that whoever leads is always kept sharp
Hmm, so the clan chiefs each essentially use their 'vote' to come up with a test that a potential chief has to complete to ascend to leader? Or are you thinking more like each clan has a champion, and new high chiefs have to go through a boss rush?
Hmm, so the clan chiefs each essentially use their 'vote' to come up with a test that a potential chief has to complete to ascend to leader? Or are you thinking more like each clan has a champion, and new high chiefs have to go through a boss rush?
More like the leaders right now would create what would become a flat test. Lets say that it tests strength, agility, knowledge of the hunt, knowledge of the spirits, and decision making. The system would start with the council needing to choose a candidate to take the test- and their first pool of candidates they should look at would be descendants of the leader that died (this is a step that requires the specific situation where the current leader has died.)
The candidate must pass the test to become the rightful leader. But current leaders can also be challenged (and Im not sure how the system would address that) but the idea is that there is a way for the leader to be selected by not just inhereiting blood, nor by being shown favor, but by proving their qualities themselves, that there is a way to make sure they remain the best fit for leadership, and by having a process in place to address the chaos after a leader's death - as well as giving some benefit to the children of a that leader, without making it an absolute indicator of leadership worthiness.
All that to say that its less of a test to choose everything - and more of a system that includes a test
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
Adhoc vote count started by Side Item on Aug 31, 2024 at 8:08 PM, finished with 24 posts and 16 votes.
[X] Two chiefs. One chosen by the clans, and one by the shamans. The Clan-chief will be a chief of the earth, hunting, and things that are of the people. The Shaman-Chief will be a chief of magic, the sky, and things that are of the spirits.
[X] write in: A test including different skills that must be completed, testers chosen by a council of clan heads. Whoever passes becomes the new leader. Upon a leaders death, first preference of who is to be tested should be to that leader's children, however, they may be challenged at anytime, even after becoming the leader, so that whoever leads is always kept sharp
It had been years since the tribe had made the decision. In the end, the council of clan chiefs had chosen to guide the tribe collectively, but they would also elect a single high chieftain to serve as the final voice, one who would ensure their people did not lose the strength and unity that had carried them so far. It was a decision that had taken time, debated fiercely over long nights, but it had been made in peace, a testament to the bonds Dran had forged during his leadership.
In the course of the deliberations, they came to realize that the voices of the shamans were not loud enough. Shamans were seen as both clanless and above the clans, a status which did not seem to befit their role.
The first high chieftain selected was a man named Ara, one of the most respected among the clan chiefs. He was strong, thoughtful, and married to Enssa, the eldest daughter of Dran. This tie to the bloodline of the former leader, combined with his wisdom and level-headed approach to tribal politics, had made him the natural choice when the council convened.
It was Ara's first act to ask the shamans to join him. He was the first to admit that he had no expertise in dealing with the wonders that now abounded, and felt uncomfortable accepting the role as chief intermediary for the spirits. He requested that the shamans appoint a chief of their own, and he would delegate all responsibility and power as far as the spiritual needs of the people were concerned. The shamans respectfully declined at first, but Ara insisted, until finally and surprisingly one of the youngest shamans stepped forward to argue the wisdom of the approach to the elders. Dal was the first shaman chief appointed, as much because she seemed the only one brazen enough to accept as because her ability to convince the others to join in showed some aptitude at the duties.
Tribal Government: Primitive Diarchy
The tribe's government is led by two chiefs: the High Chief, selected by the clan heads to oversee earthly matters such as hunting, survival, and daily life, and the Spirit Warden, chosen by the shamans to guide the tribe's spiritual path, overseeing magic, rituals, and interpreting the will of the spirits and the sky.
Dran gladly handed over his obsidian necklace of command, relieved that it would not be a burden on the tribe. Dal offered up the idea that each clan chief be given a ceremonial obsidian link, so that when the time came the chiefs could symbolically fashion the next high chief necklace for the succession. This went over well with the (now) sub-chiefs, who began to design their own link shards. Dal then requested that she be given an allotment of the various ores and metals they found inside some ants, to create a set of shamanic jewelry to show her status as head shaman. Ara thought that was more than fair, although he noted that the other shamans seemed surprised at the request.
As the years passed and the tribe settled into their new system of leadership, the time that no one had truly wanted to face arrived—Dran passed away quietly in his sleep. He was an old man by then, his once proud form diminished but his spirit as strong as ever. His death was mourned by the entire tribe, who saw in him not just a leader, but a symbol of their endurance.
The tribe prepared his burial with great care. His body was ceremonially wrapped in the finest furs and adorned with shards of the obsidian-like ant carapace he had worn as a symbol of strength. A procession of his family and the clan chiefs carried him along the path of the ants, to the largest mound they had ever discovered. It rose like a small mountain from the flat expanse of the grasslands, a place of reverence where the tribe had often watched the ants disappear into their mysterious tunnels.
As the procession reached the base of the mound, the tribe gathered in silence. Dran's body was buried at its foot, in a place that would forever connect him to the earth spirits he had revered and the path he had led them on for so long. The shamans, old and young alike, performed the rites, calling on the spirits of the land to guide Dran into the next life. When the burial was complete, the tribe dispersed, leaving only the shamans and the new high chieftains to stand in silent reflection.
Ara watched as the last of the tribe disappeared beyond the horizon, the wind whispering through the grasses like the voices of the ancestors. He stood tall and resolute, but inside, his heart was heavy. His generation would be the last who remembered the old world. They were the last who had lived through the dying days of that land, who had seen the Ice Bridge and crossed it with hope and fear in equal measure.
Now, he was High Chief, charged with guiding the people into a future that was becoming more and more distant from that past. The younger generations knew only the grasslands, the ants, and the strange, wondrous magic of the new world. They had grown up with abundance, far from the harsh realities of starvation and the death of their homeland. Ara knew that with the passing of time, the stories of the old world would become just that—stories.
He did not want that to happen. Dran's memory deserved more than fading into legend. He had been the one to lead them when all hope seemed lost, and he had carried them into this new land. Ara was determined that their people would never forget the sacrifices he had made, nor the lessons they had learned in the old world. But what was the best way to preserve that legacy? What core principle should remain to honor the tribe's past while also looking to the future?
Seeking answers, Ara turned to the shamans. Some were old, like him, and remembered the struggles of the past. But many like Dal were younger, born after the crossing, and their connection to the spirits was fresh and vibrant in ways Ara could no longer grasp.
He asked Dal to gather them together beneath the stars one night, seeking their counsel. The firelight flickered on their faces, illuminating their thoughtful expressions as they listened to Ara's concerns.
"The tribe is changing," Ara began, his voice low but steady. "The generations that lived through the crossing are passing away, and with them goes the memory of the old world. I fear that in time, we will forget what we endured to reach this land. I fear we will forget what Dran taught us."
He paused, searching their faces. "What should we hold onto? What principle should we pass down to ensure that the tribe does not lose its way?"
The shamans considered her words in silence for a long time, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them. Finally, Dal, spoke.
"We cannot hold onto everything," she said. "The past must give way to the future. But that does not mean we lose what matters. What made us strong in the old world was our unity—our ability to survive together. Dran led us with strength, but it was the bonds between us that kept us moving forward in the first place. If we are to honor him, let it be through that unity. Let it be through the understanding that no matter where we go, we go together."
Another shaman, nodded in agreement. "Unity, of course. But even more so the strength to adapt. Dran guided us because he was willing to take risks, to seek out new paths when the old ones failed. The tribe must never grow stagnant. The world may change, but we must always be willing to change with it."
There was a loud harrumphing cough from the eldest shaman. "I crossed the bridge with you, Ara. Then we did not have the luxury of now. Survival was all. I would not want the children now to know the hunger I felt, but I fear the stars have calamities yet to be written we will need to endure. We should make them aware of how important the need to persevere through true hardship is."
This set off a fresh round of debate, especially from the younger members eager to say how much hardship they had in fact suffered. Ara listened carefully, his mind turning over their words. Unity. Adaptability. Perseverance. These were things Dran had embodied, things that had kept the tribe alive. Perhaps they could carry those principles forward, just as they carried the weapons and tools forged from the fallen ants.
The Shamans shall ensure which value is preserved:
[] The Power of Unity
[] The Need to Adapt
[] The Will to Endure
It had been more than a decade since Dran had passed, and the tribe had continued to follow the great ant trail as they had for so many years before. The ants led them across the vast grasslands, through familiar paths marked by towering mounds, and though life had settled into a rhythm, there was an undercurrent of unease beginning to stir.
It started with distant signs of Others. The tribe occasionally saw smoke rising on the horizon, the telltale sign of man-made fires. At first, it was far enough away to be ignored. But then, along their own trail, they began to find discarded food, broken pottery, and tools that were not their own. There were other people out there—people who had come into the land from elsewhere, just as they had. Sometimes, when the tribe arrived at an ant mound they had visited many times before, they found that the trees had already been stripped of their fruit. Someone had been there first.
For years, these signs lingered in the background, and Ara knew it was only a matter of time before they encountered these other people. He had hoped the meeting would be peaceful. He hoped that the tribe's reverence for the earth spirits, their respect for the ant trail, would translate into harmony with whoever else roamed the land.
But when it finally happened, it was far from peaceful.
One afternoon, a group of youths came running back to the tribe's camp, their faces pale with fear. A few were badly injured, and to Ara's shock, a foreign girl ran alongside them, her strange clothing and wide eyes standing out in the midst of the tribe's familiar garb.
The youths stumbled over their words as they explained what had happened. They had broken the tribe's rule forbidding youths from wandering out of sight from the path, and had gone over a hill to play. There, they encountered a group of other youths, not much older or younger than themselves. The initial meeting had been friendly, if awkward, with a language barrier that made communication difficult. Still, they managed to exchange gestures and gifts—showing off their jewelry, touching the strange animals the foreign youths somehow rode, and marveling at their non-fur clothes.
Everything had been going well, until one of the tribe's young men, Jorin—a handsome, impulsive boy—snuck off with a girl from the other tribe. The foreign girl's brother had found them together and had flown into a rage. A fight broke out, one that left several of the tribe's youths bloodied and bruised, and at least one of the foreign youths seriously injured—possibly dead. In the chaos, both groups had retreated, but the foreign girl had followed Jorin back to camp.
Ara stared at the girl, trying to read her expression. She seemed neither frightened nor angry; in fact, she clung to Jorin's side with a shy but clear attachment. Ara could see why—the boy was handsome, with a roguish charm that no doubt appealed to the young foreigner. But the High Chieftain's mind was already racing with the consequences of this encounter.
The other tribe was likely to interpret the situation as a deliberate provocation. An injury or death in the heat of passion could lead to a blood feud, and Ara had heard from his parents and Dran's remembrances the danger that came with vengeance. The foreign tribe might already have sworn a blood oath, and if they were as connected to the land as Ara suspected, they could prove to be fierce and dangerous foes.
In the moments that followed, the council gathered. The debate over how to respond to the situation was intense.
"We should leave now, before the ants depart," said one of the elders. "If we move quickly, we can disappear into the grasslands and avoid further conflict. Let them waste their time chasing shadows."
"Running will make us look weak," a young hunter argued. "We cannot abandon the path because of a few angry youths. Dran would never have fled in the face of a challenge."
Others, like Enssa, Dran's daughter, were more pragmatic. "If we are to survive here, we must avoid unnecessary conflict. We should go to them, apologize, and explain that this was a misunderstanding. Perhaps we can even establish trade or friendship."
But there were those, who saw an opportunity in the chaos. "They have strange tools, different weapons, animals we could use. Why not strike first, scare them off for good? We have more people, and if we attack now, we could drive them from this land and take what they have."
Ara listened to each of them, his heart heavy with the weight of leadership. He could see the truth in all their words—running might save them from immediate conflict, but it would be seen as cowardice. Striking back could provoke a larger war, but it might also assert their dominance. And offering peace, while the most reasonable approach, might not be accepted.
He consulted with Dal overnight, but per the shaman the stars offered no quick or clear answers, as apparently nothing was amiss in the constellations. "Maybe that in itself is an answer: we have not done anything, yet, to upset the spirits, so our current path may be the right one." Outwardly Ara nodded at her words, but inside he sometimes wished that the problems of his terrestrial domain could so easily be solved with unhelpful answers.
Before she could make a decision, a scout ran into the camp, breathless and wide-eyed. "Chieftain, figures are approaching over the hill!"
The tribe gathered to the edge of camp, tension building as they watched the figures come into view. At the head of the group was a tall man, clearly a leader, adorned with an elaborate headpiece topped with strange thin horns that gleamed in the sunlight. He rode atop one of the strange creatures the foreign tribe used as mounts. The creature stood tall, slender and graceful, with long legs and delicate hooves. Its fur shimmered like the grasses in the morning light, and its great branching horns rose like twisted trees from its head. Its dark eyes watched with a quiet, mysterious intelligence, untouched by fear. Behind him, a group of warriors marched in formation, carrying clubs that glowed faintly with jagged tree bark.
Ara's heart raced as the foreign chief drew closer, his eyes scanning the camp with a mixture of caution and pride. His warriors were tense, ready for battle, but they had not yet raised their weapons. This was not yet an attack, but it was far from a peaceful visit.
Ara had only moments to decide how to meet this leader—whether to approach with caution, offer peace, or stand firm and ready for battle. The future of the people could depend on what he did next.
He took a deep breath, glancing at the shamans beside him, feeling the weight of the tribe's history and Dran's legacy pressing down on his shoulders. This was a test of everything they had built, and how they responded could change the tribe's fate forever.
With resolve, he stepped forward to meet the foreign chief, hoping that his choice would guide them safely into the next length of their journey.
Ara's Intentions with the New Tribe:
[] Avoid Confrontation
[] Establish Dominance
[] Open Communication
[] Write In
The other tribe came too fast to make an informed people wide choice, so this is a riot style vote setting Ara's mindset during the encounter, more votes equaling greater weight. Note that if a fight does break out you have all of your available fighters nearby and handily outnumber them.
