Their walk had been long, longer than memory. It was the only way of life that the tribe had...
From Stone to the Stars
- Thread starter Redium
- Start date
- Original Alt. History
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 304
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 54
-
Statistics (48 threadmarks, 110k words)
User Total Redium 48 Threadmarks Reader mode -
Loading…
-
Loading…
-
Loading…
1.0 Foundation
Their walk had been long, longer than memory. It was the only way of life that the tribe had ever known. Even the eldest grey-beard could not recall a time where things were different. To the grey-beards of their youth, the answers had been just as lacking, lost in a shifting morass of dead time.
They had walked from one corner of the world to the other and, as some of the tales said, beyond. On and on and on they walked. They followed the herds, taking game where it could be found. They walked along the shores, catching fish from the sea. They walked through thick forests and pulled fruits from the trees and roots from the soil. Few were the places that had not known the feet of the People.
It was said, in hushed tones, that they had once even walked the realms of the dead. The place where the sun never rose and the dark's killing grip never ended. Half the tribe had been lost in those times, it was whispered, and people performed dark deeds just to survive. Even that, though, was on the edge of memory.
As the winds slowly died, snows melt, and life sprung back into the world, the tribe gathered. They had wintered well along the shores of a nameless sea, but the area grew thin of food. That's the way it had always been for the tribe. Hunt, gather, move, in an endless cycle since the dawn of the world. It was simply time for the next step in the long walk to be taken.
But there were whispers saying the walk had finally come to an end.
"The land ends," a hunter said, claiming the attention of the tribe. "Beyond us, in the direction of the setting sun, it rises up and up, greater than any tree. There are no paths trodden in the ground and little food. To the north, the land is chocked with trees with the ground itself twisted like a garment ripped open and patched too many times. To go forward a single step means to take three up and then three down. To the south..."
His fears of that path went unsaid. There were no dangers of the world in that direction like the other two, but it was filled by other men. While that could mean good things, the tribe had learned that more often than not meant bad. Women taken in the middle of the night, men slaughtered, food stolen. They could also bring gifts, pretty shells, food, tools, flint, and other resources. Those outside the People were boon and bane both. The People had fled the from the tribes to the south, barely encountering them for fear of what they brought.
"Then what would you have us do?" a younger man asked. "High lands can be climbed, trackless land can be bushwhacked. One foot merely need be put in front of the other."
"And what would the cost be?" a mother asked. "You are young, spry. These new lands sound of challenge and that is the game of young men. What of the elders, of the children, and the women carrying children within? How are they to carry on? To 'merely put one foot in front of the other' would be to leave them all behind. It would again be the travel through the land of the dead. We have barely managed through the chocking forests around us. If we were forced to also traverse hills or mountains? Foolishness."
"I suspect your blood would be a lot less hot with no more women to keep you warm at night," a voice barked out from the back of the gathering. The young man reddened when the rest of the tribe started to laugh.
"Then how will we feed ourselves?" the young man snapped back. "I hunt, I fish. Women pick berries and fruits and roots. If we stay in any area too long they disappear. Do people not remember why we move on year-by-year? All of the lands we've passed, they're chocked with other tribes and resources scarce."
"I recall..." a voice whispered. The tribe turned silent, straining to hear the oldest of the elders speak. It was not often the honoured grandmother deigned to speak, but everyone knew she had seen all that was under the sky and carried much wisdom. "They say... they say we ran from the giants. Men, but more. People who had swallowed up fire until it made them burn in body and brain."
"It was not for food that we moved, honoured grandmother, but violence?" a young woman asked. "I thought it was because the spirits demanded we move. To stay still was to plant yourself against the way of the world. A tree has roots to keep it still while we have legs to make us move."
"I remember hearing of the fire," another elder concurred shortly. "But it was fires of the land, not of man. The spirits were angry with us, I do remember that. They destroyed everything, and so on we moved."
"We wander the world because it is ours," the hunter said. "It was given to us by the spirits. It is our job to see all of it, every inch. We were given feet to walk and eyes to see."
What tale remains of the People's Exodus?
[ ] Escaping Violence
[ ] Fleeing Disaster
[ ] Seeking Resources
[ ] Chasing Wanderlust
[ ] Pleasing Spirits
"Our origin is not what we shall decide at this gathering," the young man cut in again. "We're here to decide where we shall go. We are here, now; anything from before that doesn't matter. All we must determine is how best to please the spirits and acquire food. The people to the south struggle, their lands starting to overflow so that there is not enough along the trails of the walk."
The tribe bristled at the demand, at the impudent young man, but did not move to censure him. What meaning was in their past? It would have little bearing on their future. It was impossible for it to. That past had no future any more. The tribe could not move west, north was impossible, and the south was claimed by others, food already thinning for them. To tread the east was to flirt again with the realms of the dead.
"We still have some reserves of food," the mother said. "It would not be enough to see us through another death of the world, but it is still something. In this new time, we must try new techniques or reinvent the old. This will see us through that uncertainty."
"The shores, the trees, the beasts, and the ground. I can claim no expertise save in my own domain." The hunter nodded his head, "But we must hunt. Beasts provide clothing and meat and bone. There is nothing that we do not obtain from them. Tools to work and clothes to help us survive the cold. In this world, both are essential to prepare when the world dies."
"Vanity," the honoured grandmother snapped. "Hunting beasts has always been vanity. They are scarce, hard to predict, and the spirits of slain beasts quickly curse their meat after death. How many hunters perish when bringing down a great beast during lifetime of only one world? The fruits of trees and soil are how we truly feed ourselves. They stay, whether the world is living or dead."
"Has the tribe ever been fuller than when a skilled hunter brings down a great beast?" the hunter asked. "It is perhaps the only time we ever eat our fill. Meats fills and sustains more than roots and berries ever do. Raised on meat, we can run further and longer than those who scramble through the dirt for scraps of plants. The taste alone should tell you what you need know. The spirits intend for us to consume it, nothing else compares."
"Perhaps we should look to the shore," the mother said. "Fish have the benefits of being meat while plants also grow freely along it. Everyone needs to drink, further, and so do beasts. By staying in areas where all of them gather, we'll have many options to feed on."
"Have you tried to fish?" the young man asked. "Catching fish in hand is like trying to catch the wind. Spearing them... the world below the water is different than the world above it. To strike them is not to actually strike them. What happens when the world dies? Ice will cover the bays and force us to walk along it in order to find places thin enough to break through. Many a man has fallen and frozen to death trying to get a fish smaller than the limb of a single beast. No beasts will come to the waters when they are frozen. Plants choke and die every time the sun falls low and the world dies. This is especially true for water plants. The lack of earth in them renders them fragile."
"May I then speak the virtues of the trees?" the honoured grandmother asked. "A bush of berries will not rend a man limb from limb. Roots and other plants do not run from arrows and spears. They are there and it will be work to obtain them, but they are a certainty. Throughout every world, they remain a constant."
"Until the plants finally die," the young man replied cynically. "People preying on them kills them just as it does beasts."
The tribe was silent. Exploring each area came with risks and the one that they chose failing could mean the death of many. None of them wanted to be the voice to call for a solution that would kill many of their people. Simply being unlucky could lead to the death of many. Still, there was no other choice. The hunter did not err when he said the lands around them were impassible. That must simply be the way of life on the edge of the world.
Even if they could find a way beyond the hills and mountains, what would they find there? Already, the lands to the south were filling with tribes. They still wandered as did the People, but the lands were so crowded. The traditional long walks of the People lead them to finding more and more signs of habitation, hunting and foraging. Was it much longer before there would be nowhere left to walk in the world?
"There is another option," the young man replied hesitantly. "The tribes down south. They have started to solve the issue we now face. How could they live here in so many tribes and numbers if they do not? They have lived here through many world-deaths and rebirths. Longer than we. We can obtain food and supplies from them."
Silence stretched after that proclamation. The wording was ambiguous enough. The People knew that others outside their tribe were always both boon and bane. They brought pretty flowers, food, and tools, but they could also bring pain. Would they become such a thing? How does one respond to such a thought?
When bellies grow hungry... there's a lot that people will contemplate that they once swore they wouldn't. In the time where the world finally seemed small, it was time to simply stop and try something new.
Where do the People look to obtain food?
[ ] The Shore
[ ] The Land
[ ] The Beasts
[ ] Other Tribes
They had walked from one corner of the world to the other and, as some of the tales said, beyond. On and on and on they walked. They followed the herds, taking game where it could be found. They walked along the shores, catching fish from the sea. They walked through thick forests and pulled fruits from the trees and roots from the soil. Few were the places that had not known the feet of the People.
It was said, in hushed tones, that they had once even walked the realms of the dead. The place where the sun never rose and the dark's killing grip never ended. Half the tribe had been lost in those times, it was whispered, and people performed dark deeds just to survive. Even that, though, was on the edge of memory.
As the winds slowly died, snows melt, and life sprung back into the world, the tribe gathered. They had wintered well along the shores of a nameless sea, but the area grew thin of food. That's the way it had always been for the tribe. Hunt, gather, move, in an endless cycle since the dawn of the world. It was simply time for the next step in the long walk to be taken.
But there were whispers saying the walk had finally come to an end.
"The land ends," a hunter said, claiming the attention of the tribe. "Beyond us, in the direction of the setting sun, it rises up and up, greater than any tree. There are no paths trodden in the ground and little food. To the north, the land is chocked with trees with the ground itself twisted like a garment ripped open and patched too many times. To go forward a single step means to take three up and then three down. To the south..."
His fears of that path went unsaid. There were no dangers of the world in that direction like the other two, but it was filled by other men. While that could mean good things, the tribe had learned that more often than not meant bad. Women taken in the middle of the night, men slaughtered, food stolen. They could also bring gifts, pretty shells, food, tools, flint, and other resources. Those outside the People were boon and bane both. The People had fled the from the tribes to the south, barely encountering them for fear of what they brought.
"Then what would you have us do?" a younger man asked. "High lands can be climbed, trackless land can be bushwhacked. One foot merely need be put in front of the other."
"And what would the cost be?" a mother asked. "You are young, spry. These new lands sound of challenge and that is the game of young men. What of the elders, of the children, and the women carrying children within? How are they to carry on? To 'merely put one foot in front of the other' would be to leave them all behind. It would again be the travel through the land of the dead. We have barely managed through the chocking forests around us. If we were forced to also traverse hills or mountains? Foolishness."
"I suspect your blood would be a lot less hot with no more women to keep you warm at night," a voice barked out from the back of the gathering. The young man reddened when the rest of the tribe started to laugh.
"Then how will we feed ourselves?" the young man snapped back. "I hunt, I fish. Women pick berries and fruits and roots. If we stay in any area too long they disappear. Do people not remember why we move on year-by-year? All of the lands we've passed, they're chocked with other tribes and resources scarce."
"I recall..." a voice whispered. The tribe turned silent, straining to hear the oldest of the elders speak. It was not often the honoured grandmother deigned to speak, but everyone knew she had seen all that was under the sky and carried much wisdom. "They say... they say we ran from the giants. Men, but more. People who had swallowed up fire until it made them burn in body and brain."
"It was not for food that we moved, honoured grandmother, but violence?" a young woman asked. "I thought it was because the spirits demanded we move. To stay still was to plant yourself against the way of the world. A tree has roots to keep it still while we have legs to make us move."
"I remember hearing of the fire," another elder concurred shortly. "But it was fires of the land, not of man. The spirits were angry with us, I do remember that. They destroyed everything, and so on we moved."
"We wander the world because it is ours," the hunter said. "It was given to us by the spirits. It is our job to see all of it, every inch. We were given feet to walk and eyes to see."
What tale remains of the People's Exodus?
[ ] Escaping Violence
[ ] Fleeing Disaster
[ ] Seeking Resources
[ ] Chasing Wanderlust
[ ] Pleasing Spirits
"Our origin is not what we shall decide at this gathering," the young man cut in again. "We're here to decide where we shall go. We are here, now; anything from before that doesn't matter. All we must determine is how best to please the spirits and acquire food. The people to the south struggle, their lands starting to overflow so that there is not enough along the trails of the walk."
The tribe bristled at the demand, at the impudent young man, but did not move to censure him. What meaning was in their past? It would have little bearing on their future. It was impossible for it to. That past had no future any more. The tribe could not move west, north was impossible, and the south was claimed by others, food already thinning for them. To tread the east was to flirt again with the realms of the dead.
"We still have some reserves of food," the mother said. "It would not be enough to see us through another death of the world, but it is still something. In this new time, we must try new techniques or reinvent the old. This will see us through that uncertainty."
"The shores, the trees, the beasts, and the ground. I can claim no expertise save in my own domain." The hunter nodded his head, "But we must hunt. Beasts provide clothing and meat and bone. There is nothing that we do not obtain from them. Tools to work and clothes to help us survive the cold. In this world, both are essential to prepare when the world dies."
"Vanity," the honoured grandmother snapped. "Hunting beasts has always been vanity. They are scarce, hard to predict, and the spirits of slain beasts quickly curse their meat after death. How many hunters perish when bringing down a great beast during lifetime of only one world? The fruits of trees and soil are how we truly feed ourselves. They stay, whether the world is living or dead."
"Has the tribe ever been fuller than when a skilled hunter brings down a great beast?" the hunter asked. "It is perhaps the only time we ever eat our fill. Meats fills and sustains more than roots and berries ever do. Raised on meat, we can run further and longer than those who scramble through the dirt for scraps of plants. The taste alone should tell you what you need know. The spirits intend for us to consume it, nothing else compares."
"Perhaps we should look to the shore," the mother said. "Fish have the benefits of being meat while plants also grow freely along it. Everyone needs to drink, further, and so do beasts. By staying in areas where all of them gather, we'll have many options to feed on."
"Have you tried to fish?" the young man asked. "Catching fish in hand is like trying to catch the wind. Spearing them... the world below the water is different than the world above it. To strike them is not to actually strike them. What happens when the world dies? Ice will cover the bays and force us to walk along it in order to find places thin enough to break through. Many a man has fallen and frozen to death trying to get a fish smaller than the limb of a single beast. No beasts will come to the waters when they are frozen. Plants choke and die every time the sun falls low and the world dies. This is especially true for water plants. The lack of earth in them renders them fragile."
"May I then speak the virtues of the trees?" the honoured grandmother asked. "A bush of berries will not rend a man limb from limb. Roots and other plants do not run from arrows and spears. They are there and it will be work to obtain them, but they are a certainty. Throughout every world, they remain a constant."
"Until the plants finally die," the young man replied cynically. "People preying on them kills them just as it does beasts."
The tribe was silent. Exploring each area came with risks and the one that they chose failing could mean the death of many. None of them wanted to be the voice to call for a solution that would kill many of their people. Simply being unlucky could lead to the death of many. Still, there was no other choice. The hunter did not err when he said the lands around them were impassible. That must simply be the way of life on the edge of the world.
Even if they could find a way beyond the hills and mountains, what would they find there? Already, the lands to the south were filling with tribes. They still wandered as did the People, but the lands were so crowded. The traditional long walks of the People lead them to finding more and more signs of habitation, hunting and foraging. Was it much longer before there would be nowhere left to walk in the world?
"There is another option," the young man replied hesitantly. "The tribes down south. They have started to solve the issue we now face. How could they live here in so many tribes and numbers if they do not? They have lived here through many world-deaths and rebirths. Longer than we. We can obtain food and supplies from them."
Silence stretched after that proclamation. The wording was ambiguous enough. The People knew that others outside their tribe were always both boon and bane. They brought pretty flowers, food, and tools, but they could also bring pain. Would they become such a thing? How does one respond to such a thought?
When bellies grow hungry... there's a lot that people will contemplate that they once swore they wouldn't. In the time where the world finally seemed small, it was time to simply stop and try something new.
Where do the People look to obtain food?
[ ] The Shore
[ ] The Land
[ ] The Beasts
[ ] Other Tribes
Civilization Status
From Stone to the Stars
Civilization Stats
General
Craftworks: Tiny Surplus (Equilibrium)
Diplomacy: Small Surplus
Luxuries: Tiny Deficit (Tiny Deficit)
Magic: Small Surplus (Tiny Surplus)
Material: Tiny Surplus (Equilibrium)
Martial: Moderate Surplus (Small Surplus)
Mysticism: Small Surplus
Staples: Equilibrium (Equilibrium)
Farmers: At Capacity
Fishermen: Significant Capacity Remaining
Herdsmen: Extreme Capacity Remaining
Huntsmen: At Capacity
Fishermen: Significant Capacity Remaining
Herdsmen: Extreme Capacity Remaining
Huntsmen: At Capacity
Endurance
Stability: Promising
Legitimacy: Inspired!
Prestige: 38
???
Organizational
Centralization: 1
Hierarchy: 3
Religious Authority: 5.25
Specialization: 4
Trade
| Trade Good | Status | Competitors |
| Luxuries | ||
| Common Pottery | Competing | Island Makers |
| Dyes | Little | Peace Builders, South Reach |
| Furs | Significant | Everyone |
| Gems | Dominant (Pearl Divers) | South Reach, Pearl Divers, Soft Eyes |
| Ivory | Dominant | None |
| Medicine | Little | Peace Builders |
| Strategic | ||
| Obsidian | Dominant | None |
| Salt | None | Pearl Divers |
| Slaves | No Export | Peace Builders, Hardfoot |
| Stone | Competing | Everyone |
| Cultural | ||
| Pilgrimage | Dominant | Peace Builders |
Government Type
Ancient Aristocracy
The word Aristocrat tells everything that you need to know about the People's leaders; they are the best. Trained from birth, this class provides the People with their leadership and their guidance. Taller, stronger, and smarter than many of their peers, the aristocrats demonstrate that not everyone is equipped to lead and to succeed. Despite that, these aristocrats work together to represent the People as a whole and guide them as best their wisdom allows.
Pros: Development occurs organically and rapidly, increased average leadership skill, increased governmental and cultural stability
Cons: Does not deal with with high Hierarchy, beware intra-aristocrat conflicts
Economic Type
Internal Gift Economy/External Barter
Just as the People lend their voices to their chosen leaders, they also entrust gifts unto them. The People know that their leaders will put their gifts to best use within the People. As they pay up, there is an expectation that rewards then flow down to them.
Centralization Range: Very Low -> Low
Specialization Range: Very Low
Hierarchy Range: Very Low
Religious Authority Range: Very Low
Stat Damage Resistance: Damage - Centralization/3
Normal Actions: 3 Actions
Extra Actions: 3 Empowerment Actions
Special: Vassals = Prestige/10
Status
Trending Trade Good: Salt
The People have found an unending desire for a specific trade good. In order to satisfy demand, they are currently purchasing it for twice as much as it would normally cost.
Effects: Double Effects of Salt Trade Dominance
Dissatisfied Faction (The Fingers)
An element within the People has grown increasingly dissatisfied with how the People are being run. They demand change and if there desires continue to go unmet, they may eventually take things into their own hands.
Resolve: Build a Hill and
Effects: Escalating Legitimacy hit until demands are met, crisis triggered at ??? Stability.
Settlement Extended Projects
Crystal Lake: Brick Walls (Significant), Fire Relay, Hill Top, Temple (Ember-Eyes)
Fingers: Brick Walls (Significant), Fire Relay, Temple (Frost-Scarred), Trade Hub
Hill Guard: Brick Walls (Significant) Hill Top, Temple (Fangs)
Cave of Stars: Brick Walls (Significant), Fire Relay, Temple (Cave of Stars)
Arrow Lake: Brick Walls (Significant) Temple (???)
Fingers: Brick Walls (Significant), Fire Relay, Temple (Frost-Scarred), Trade Hub
Hill Guard: Brick Walls (Significant) Hill Top, Temple (Fangs)
Cave of Stars: Brick Walls (Significant), Fire Relay, Temple (Cave of Stars)
Arrow Lake: Brick Walls (Significant) Temple (???)
Social Values (2/2)
Elitism Lv. 2
Among the People, it is not a goal, but an obligation to be the best that you can be. Those who are gifted become exalted by their peers, recognized far and wide as people of respect. To be great among the People is to be like no one ever was.
Effects:
Vendetta Lv. 2.
An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. That's why, when someone puts out one of your eyes, you blind them in both. Justice is protection and the end to violence, discord, and disorder through swift and firm action.
Effects:
Honour Values (2/2)
Might Makes RightLv. 2.
When the People hunt beasts, their arrows are set vertically; when they hunt other tribes, their arrows are set horizontally — all the better to spear through an unsuspecting target's ribs. Violence is a fact of life to the People. The question is not: "Why use violence?", but "When can violence be used?" It is another tool within their arsenal to respond to the world and among all the tools they wield, it is a keen one indeed.
Effects:
Familialism
From birth and until death, the People are surrounded by family. Whenever someone needs help, their family will be there for them. When hurt, lost or hungry, family will provide. To many, they would not consider themselves individual, but as a part of a greater family. Both their kin, their kith, but also the People as a whole.
Effects:
Spiritual Values (2/2)
Ordeals Lv. 2.
Tests and trials are a way of life for the People. They separate corns from the husk and the weak from the capable. Those who struggle and overcome the opposition of men and spirits are the ones that the People should look to for guidance. The spirits have put them through the crucible and refined them into something great. Those who prove themselves by overcoming adversity are righteous.
Effects:
Mastery of Nature
The spirits have placed countless wonders across the world and it is the People's responsibility to find and safeguard these locations. Through laborious toil, these fonts of spiritual power can be augmented and empowered, turned into sources of power available to the People. It is through measures like this that the People and their spirits can work together and remain strong.
Effects:
Elitism Lv. 2
Among the People, it is not a goal, but an obligation to be the best that you can be. Those who are gifted become exalted by their peers, recognized far and wide as people of respect. To be great among the People is to be like no one ever was.
Effects:
Increased effects of elite units
Increased generations of unique Traditions
General increase in competence
Increased social stratification
Increased Cost for many actions
Increased generations of unique Traditions
General increase in competence
Increased social stratification
Increased Cost for many actions
Vendetta Lv. 2.
An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. That's why, when someone puts out one of your eyes, you blind them in both. Justice is protection and the end to violence, discord, and disorder through swift and firm action.
Effects:
Punishment is always harsh, but it is the final word that can be said.
Increased generation of a criminal underclass
Increased generation of a criminal underclass
Honour Values (2/2)
Might Makes RightLv. 2.
When the People hunt beasts, their arrows are set vertically; when they hunt other tribes, their arrows are set horizontally — all the better to spear through an unsuspecting target's ribs. Violence is a fact of life to the People. The question is not: "Why use violence?", but "When can violence be used?" It is another tool within their arsenal to respond to the world and among all the tools they wield, it is a keen one indeed.
Effects:
The consequences of violence are more tolerable
Interpersonal violence becomes more common
Increased martial skill, especially amount professionals and specialists
People are seen as intimidating
Martial skill is desirable
Violence is an acceptable solution to problems.
Interpersonal violence becomes more common
Increased martial skill, especially amount professionals and specialists
People are seen as intimidating
Martial skill is desirable
Violence is an acceptable solution to problems.
Familialism
From birth and until death, the People are surrounded by family. Whenever someone needs help, their family will be there for them. When hurt, lost or hungry, family will provide. To many, they would not consider themselves individual, but as a part of a greater family. Both their kin, their kith, but also the People as a whole.
Effects:
Increased social cohesion, especially among the People's elites
Increased tenacity in defensive wars
Increased Hero generation in defensive wars
Increased nepotism
Decreased chance to discover social ills
Increased tenacity in defensive wars
Increased Hero generation in defensive wars
Increased nepotism
Decreased chance to discover social ills
Spiritual Values (2/2)
Ordeals Lv. 2.
Tests and trials are a way of life for the People. They separate corns from the husk and the weak from the capable. Those who struggle and overcome the opposition of men and spirits are the ones that the People should look to for guidance. The spirits have put them through the crucible and refined them into something great. Those who prove themselves by overcoming adversity are righteous.
Effects:
People are more willing to endure hardship
Can spend stability to complete two of the same action at once
Increased appreciation for first hand experience
People demoralized by failure
Refusal to change course during difficult times.
Can spend stability to complete two of the same action at once
Increased appreciation for first hand experience
People demoralized by failure
Refusal to change course during difficult times.
Mastery of Nature
The spirits have placed countless wonders across the world and it is the People's responsibility to find and safeguard these locations. Through laborious toil, these fonts of spiritual power can be augmented and empowered, turned into sources of power available to the People. It is through measures like this that the People and their spirits can work together and remain strong.
Effects:
Wonders are more effective than normal
The natural world is greatly boosted by artificial intervention
Must master nature wherever possible
Increased costs and ritualization
The natural world is greatly boosted by artificial intervention
Must master nature wherever possible
Increased costs and ritualization
Adult Trials
In order to be considered an adult, and thus have a voice worth hearing, it is important for the People to pass a trial. Officially standardized, these trials are different for men and for women. In order to be considered a man, a boy must be able to carry his own weight within society. Currently, defined as being able to produce more food than you eat, this is a popular and easy to define measure. In order for a girl to become a woman, she must survive the ordeal of childbirth and have children. An expected part of life for all girls, this metric greatly increases their franchise and influence relative to men.
Effects: Increase competence; empower women; prejudice against disability; ???
Bloodline Inheritance
There is something within each person that carries skill and knowledge, this fact is self-evident to the People and it is best to cultivate these unique talents from birth. The best potter is the one who learns at the knee of their father and mother; playing at their side with clay castoffs and helping them fulfill their duties. There are exceptions of course, some individuals do not carry the skill of their fore-bearers. These embarrassments are ruthlessly replaced for the shame they bring to their families. Bloodlines that fail to replace their own are weeded out in turn, just as the master hunter carefully culls the weak in a herd to protect it.
Effects: Increase the Specialization cap by 100%, raise the Hierarchy cap by 50%
Consequential Punishment
The People have decreed that all actions which lead the People to harm must be punished. One need not intend to harm the People, one simply needs to just make it so. Acting within the bounds of law or duty offer no protection when a convict is ruled against by their local Big Man. Doing nothing and allowing harm to befall the People is also no defense. The only defense against these charges are to always be lucky, be on your best behaviour, or on the good side of the judge.
Effects: Greatly empowers the Big Man in legal disagreements, granting wide ranging powers to punish outcasts, incompetents, and the unfortunate
Divorce
The People recognize that even the most intimate and sacred of bonds may be severed. This is a difficult process and one often seldom undertaken, for who should break asunder that which was once one? So far, the People only recognize the cause of a woman's infidelity as grounds to initiate divorce. Children born of a union between man and woman are property of the husband's family, unless disowned.
Effects: Female promiscuity, bastardy stigmatized, children from divorce belong to their father's family
Exogamy (Male)
Incest is relative and it's something that all right thinking humans avoid. This is often difficult due to small settlement sizes or due to uncertainty with respect to paternity. In order to combat this phenomena, men are greatly encouraged to leave their place of birth to join distant kin in another settlement founded by the People. While tough, it is necessary for the health of every future child born into the People.
Effects: Improves general public health, greatly increased matriarchal tendencies, increased internal unity, increased spawn rate of adventurers.
Indentured Labour
The People acknowledge the foremost importance of debts. Most of the time, these debts are unspoken; promises of labour, favours, gifts, and other services the make the rounds, greasing the economy as it exists. Sometimes, though, someone proves unworthy of the implicit trust the People as a whole invest in them. When that occurs, a council lead by a Big Man will acknowledge the unworthy's debts as forfeit. They are then tasked to work on behalf of all the People, as directed by the Big Man, until their debts are recognized as fulfilled.
Effects: Labour may be compelled for those who have unpaid debts.
Captive Labour
Enemies captured on the field of battle are not slain nor are they allowed to retreat freely by the People, instead they are captured. Work is forced upon them due to lack of resources requiring every mouth to work. These captives can also serve as hostages to exchange in war.
Effects: Debtors may be captured in war.
Holy Order: Ember-Eyes
Deep in the People's history, the Ember-Eyes were born. Based out of the Shrine of the Fingers, they claim descent from from those who fought in the most ancient wars. They specialize in the use of fire and night-fighting, skills supposedly learned at the foot of the spirits themselves.
Effects: Fire can be deliberately used as a weapon of war
Holy Order: Fangs
Just like the teeth of a wolf are the first to enter the flesh of the prey, so too do the People's Fangs enter the flesh of their enemies. Based out of the Shrine of Crystal Lake, these skirmishers train extensively with dogs in order to better serve as elite woodsmen and skirmishers.
Effects: Increase efficacy of skirmish units
Holy Order: Frost-Scarred
The winter is a terrible, biting, cutting thing. Snow to bury you, ice to burn you, and cold to tear through your flesh like a knife. Of all of the dangers of the world, this one has claimed the most lives of all. Despite that, perhaps in spite of that, an Order has arisen to work against the natural domain of the world. The Frost-Scarred are hardy warriors, braving the cold where all rational men would flee to shelter.
Effects: Gain additional winter-subphase during wars
Weregild
In the old days, it was thought that only blood could wash out blood. Now, the People know better; recompense can come in many forms; labour, baubbles, food, it just needs to be enough to assuage the hurt and pay restitution to victims.
Effects: Instead of physical punishment, criminals may pay off their offenses with excess wealth.
In order to be considered an adult, and thus have a voice worth hearing, it is important for the People to pass a trial. Officially standardized, these trials are different for men and for women. In order to be considered a man, a boy must be able to carry his own weight within society. Currently, defined as being able to produce more food than you eat, this is a popular and easy to define measure. In order for a girl to become a woman, she must survive the ordeal of childbirth and have children. An expected part of life for all girls, this metric greatly increases their franchise and influence relative to men.
Effects: Increase competence; empower women; prejudice against disability; ???
Bloodline Inheritance
There is something within each person that carries skill and knowledge, this fact is self-evident to the People and it is best to cultivate these unique talents from birth. The best potter is the one who learns at the knee of their father and mother; playing at their side with clay castoffs and helping them fulfill their duties. There are exceptions of course, some individuals do not carry the skill of their fore-bearers. These embarrassments are ruthlessly replaced for the shame they bring to their families. Bloodlines that fail to replace their own are weeded out in turn, just as the master hunter carefully culls the weak in a herd to protect it.
Effects: Increase the Specialization cap by 100%, raise the Hierarchy cap by 50%
Consequential Punishment
The People have decreed that all actions which lead the People to harm must be punished. One need not intend to harm the People, one simply needs to just make it so. Acting within the bounds of law or duty offer no protection when a convict is ruled against by their local Big Man. Doing nothing and allowing harm to befall the People is also no defense. The only defense against these charges are to always be lucky, be on your best behaviour, or on the good side of the judge.
Effects: Greatly empowers the Big Man in legal disagreements, granting wide ranging powers to punish outcasts, incompetents, and the unfortunate
Divorce
The People recognize that even the most intimate and sacred of bonds may be severed. This is a difficult process and one often seldom undertaken, for who should break asunder that which was once one? So far, the People only recognize the cause of a woman's infidelity as grounds to initiate divorce. Children born of a union between man and woman are property of the husband's family, unless disowned.
Effects: Female promiscuity, bastardy stigmatized, children from divorce belong to their father's family
Exogamy (Male)
Incest is relative and it's something that all right thinking humans avoid. This is often difficult due to small settlement sizes or due to uncertainty with respect to paternity. In order to combat this phenomena, men are greatly encouraged to leave their place of birth to join distant kin in another settlement founded by the People. While tough, it is necessary for the health of every future child born into the People.
Effects: Improves general public health, greatly increased matriarchal tendencies, increased internal unity, increased spawn rate of adventurers.
Indentured Labour
The People acknowledge the foremost importance of debts. Most of the time, these debts are unspoken; promises of labour, favours, gifts, and other services the make the rounds, greasing the economy as it exists. Sometimes, though, someone proves unworthy of the implicit trust the People as a whole invest in them. When that occurs, a council lead by a Big Man will acknowledge the unworthy's debts as forfeit. They are then tasked to work on behalf of all the People, as directed by the Big Man, until their debts are recognized as fulfilled.
Effects: Labour may be compelled for those who have unpaid debts.
Captive Labour
Enemies captured on the field of battle are not slain nor are they allowed to retreat freely by the People, instead they are captured. Work is forced upon them due to lack of resources requiring every mouth to work. These captives can also serve as hostages to exchange in war.
Effects: Debtors may be captured in war.
Holy Order: Ember-Eyes
Deep in the People's history, the Ember-Eyes were born. Based out of the Shrine of the Fingers, they claim descent from from those who fought in the most ancient wars. They specialize in the use of fire and night-fighting, skills supposedly learned at the foot of the spirits themselves.
Effects: Fire can be deliberately used as a weapon of war
Holy Order: Fangs
Just like the teeth of a wolf are the first to enter the flesh of the prey, so too do the People's Fangs enter the flesh of their enemies. Based out of the Shrine of Crystal Lake, these skirmishers train extensively with dogs in order to better serve as elite woodsmen and skirmishers.
Effects: Increase efficacy of skirmish units
Holy Order: Frost-Scarred
The winter is a terrible, biting, cutting thing. Snow to bury you, ice to burn you, and cold to tear through your flesh like a knife. Of all of the dangers of the world, this one has claimed the most lives of all. Despite that, perhaps in spite of that, an Order has arisen to work against the natural domain of the world. The Frost-Scarred are hardy warriors, braving the cold where all rational men would flee to shelter.
Effects: Gain additional winter-subphase during wars
Weregild
In the old days, it was thought that only blood could wash out blood. Now, the People know better; recompense can come in many forms; labour, baubbles, food, it just needs to be enough to assuage the hurt and pay restitution to victims.
Effects: Instead of physical punishment, criminals may pay off their offenses with excess wealth.
Collection Moste Holy (Three)
The People have developed numerous, unique religious traditions. Practices occult that would be the envy of the world. A source of pride and wonder, these treasured institutions are bulwarked against failure and destruction.
Effects: Lowered minimal threshold to maintain Holy Orders
Heroic Start!
The People are descendants of Heroes! Great men and women who have shaped their world according to their desires. Some are good, some are bad, but none can deny the People carry Greatness!
Effects: +1 to all Hero rolls
Hierarchy Tolerance
The People have peacefully transitioned for a more hierarchical form of government. They take pride in their ability to form complex societies.
Effects: +2 Hierarchy Tolerance
Primordial Law
The People's Law is of an ancient sort, far beyond recorded history. Nonetheless, the mores and values instilled by the stories, myths, and fables, are an enduring part of the People's legacy. In time, they will shift, but the underlying message; that the People's ancestors had entrusted their children with a great covenant of faith to truly make their own and develop with their own wisdom, was greatly reassuring.
Effects: Gain a one time Stability increase when completing a Social Reform megaproject.
Primordial Mystics
A great civilization, rich in Magic, the People have trained extensively in the mystic arts and the secrets of the spirits. It is a source of pride among the People to be skilled in the secret ways of the world and all put forward effort into ensuring that they understand.
Effect: Treat Mysticism bonus as 1 higher for all purposes.
Primordial Temple Builders
The first to truly turn superstitions of the spirits into religion, the People have gained an appreciation for the finer points of training religious thinkers, building religious structures, and creating the weft and weave of religion in a positive and constructive manner.
Effects: Gain Legitimacy and Stability when constructing new temples.
Religious Authority Tolerance
The People are used to having a powerful and influential religion. As such, they have been forced to develop tools to deal with troublesome and meddling priests.
Effects: +1 Religious Authority Tolerance
Rush Builders
Not only do the People go big, but they do so extremely quickly. They were the first to erect a great work within a single generation. None can doubt the ability of the People to create and do so quickly.
Effects: Reduce all building type megaproject length to two thirds.
The People have developed numerous, unique religious traditions. Practices occult that would be the envy of the world. A source of pride and wonder, these treasured institutions are bulwarked against failure and destruction.
Effects: Lowered minimal threshold to maintain Holy Orders
Heroic Start!
The People are descendants of Heroes! Great men and women who have shaped their world according to their desires. Some are good, some are bad, but none can deny the People carry Greatness!
Effects: +1 to all Hero rolls
Hierarchy Tolerance
The People have peacefully transitioned for a more hierarchical form of government. They take pride in their ability to form complex societies.
Effects: +2 Hierarchy Tolerance
Primordial Law
The People's Law is of an ancient sort, far beyond recorded history. Nonetheless, the mores and values instilled by the stories, myths, and fables, are an enduring part of the People's legacy. In time, they will shift, but the underlying message; that the People's ancestors had entrusted their children with a great covenant of faith to truly make their own and develop with their own wisdom, was greatly reassuring.
Effects: Gain a one time Stability increase when completing a Social Reform megaproject.
Primordial Mystics
A great civilization, rich in Magic, the People have trained extensively in the mystic arts and the secrets of the spirits. It is a source of pride among the People to be skilled in the secret ways of the world and all put forward effort into ensuring that they understand.
Effect: Treat Mysticism bonus as 1 higher for all purposes.
Primordial Temple Builders
The first to truly turn superstitions of the spirits into religion, the People have gained an appreciation for the finer points of training religious thinkers, building religious structures, and creating the weft and weave of religion in a positive and constructive manner.
Effects: Gain Legitimacy and Stability when constructing new temples.
Religious Authority Tolerance
The People are used to having a powerful and influential religion. As such, they have been forced to develop tools to deal with troublesome and meddling priests.
Effects: +1 Religious Authority Tolerance
Rush Builders
Not only do the People go big, but they do so extremely quickly. They were the first to erect a great work within a single generation. None can doubt the ability of the People to create and do so quickly.
Effects: Reduce all building type megaproject length to two thirds.
Great Trace -> Great Relay -> Fire Relay
Slowly, over time, the passage of the People wears away at the barriers of tree and root, stone and soil. By patience and effort, the People have cut a pathway across the land, creating a way where once there was none. This has been further augmented by numerous way stations that maintain messengers and a relay of fires, ready to be turned into smoke signals. Given the rustic nature of the trial, it increases the endurance and woodcraft knowledge of all of the People so long as the trial remains in use. Interconnection greatly increases, preventing cultural drift. In times of emergency, the beacons can be lit, and aid summoned.
Effects: Increased internal cohesion and communication. Greatly reduced emergency response time. Lowered civilization divergence. Increased development of symbolic language. Increased organization and application of resources.
The Hill
The People have created an unlikely monolith, a great mound rising from the ground. This hill is unlike everything else found in nature, it is a feature of the world completely man-made. Aside from being an immense defensive advantage, being able to make a well defended hill anywhere they would like, the People have also vastly increased their skills for working with earth. Agriculture, earth moving, or any similar task, or large scale and coordination, benefits from the skills the People developed as long as memory of this momentous event remains.
Effects: The People gain a bonus to all large scale earth moving projects. Able to construct Mottes to reinforce settlements.
Trials of Adulthood
Adulthood is a recognized time in the life of every one of the People. To be an adult means that you are self-sufficient. Someone that can hold and offer debts to others among the People. It means that your voice has worth and should be taken into account. Heavily standardized, these arcane rituals have become a rallying point for the People. A cultural artifact that binds all of them together in a way that differentiates them from outsiders. As long as the trials are regularly completed, the People will remember themselves and their history. No adult amongst the People could be one counted deficient.
Effects: The competence of all leaders, regardless of standing, is increased. Cultural unity increased.
The Hunt
A primal activity, the People have looked beyond the age old history of blood and death. Hunting is not a simple story with a beginning and an end, but a chord held in harmony with the world's great symphony. As long as the People remember their humility and their place in the symphony, there will always be a place for the People in the world of beasts.
Effects: Expand Hunting action upgraded to Manage Hunting and reveals the safe hunting cap. Defensive attrition increased.
The Law (Neolithic)
The People's code of laws are beyond ancient, more of a primordial mien, from a time that's literally lost to time. Primarily, the Law is a collection of codified stories, a canon that shows the People how to build a good life. While still open for further development, the Law goes a long way to creating a uniformity of culture and expectation of internal unity.
Effects: Increase Centralization cap by +1, grant access to Push Unity action, accelerate development of Culture resource, ???
Slowly, over time, the passage of the People wears away at the barriers of tree and root, stone and soil. By patience and effort, the People have cut a pathway across the land, creating a way where once there was none. This has been further augmented by numerous way stations that maintain messengers and a relay of fires, ready to be turned into smoke signals. Given the rustic nature of the trial, it increases the endurance and woodcraft knowledge of all of the People so long as the trial remains in use. Interconnection greatly increases, preventing cultural drift. In times of emergency, the beacons can be lit, and aid summoned.
Effects: Increased internal cohesion and communication. Greatly reduced emergency response time. Lowered civilization divergence. Increased development of symbolic language. Increased organization and application of resources.
The Hill
The People have created an unlikely monolith, a great mound rising from the ground. This hill is unlike everything else found in nature, it is a feature of the world completely man-made. Aside from being an immense defensive advantage, being able to make a well defended hill anywhere they would like, the People have also vastly increased their skills for working with earth. Agriculture, earth moving, or any similar task, or large scale and coordination, benefits from the skills the People developed as long as memory of this momentous event remains.
Effects: The People gain a bonus to all large scale earth moving projects. Able to construct Mottes to reinforce settlements.
Trials of Adulthood
Adulthood is a recognized time in the life of every one of the People. To be an adult means that you are self-sufficient. Someone that can hold and offer debts to others among the People. It means that your voice has worth and should be taken into account. Heavily standardized, these arcane rituals have become a rallying point for the People. A cultural artifact that binds all of them together in a way that differentiates them from outsiders. As long as the trials are regularly completed, the People will remember themselves and their history. No adult amongst the People could be one counted deficient.
Effects: The competence of all leaders, regardless of standing, is increased. Cultural unity increased.
The Hunt
A primal activity, the People have looked beyond the age old history of blood and death. Hunting is not a simple story with a beginning and an end, but a chord held in harmony with the world's great symphony. As long as the People remember their humility and their place in the symphony, there will always be a place for the People in the world of beasts.
Effects: Expand Hunting action upgraded to Manage Hunting and reveals the safe hunting cap. Defensive attrition increased.
The Law (Neolithic)
The People's code of laws are beyond ancient, more of a primordial mien, from a time that's literally lost to time. Primarily, the Law is a collection of codified stories, a canon that shows the People how to build a good life. While still open for further development, the Law goes a long way to creating a uniformity of culture and expectation of internal unity.
Effects: Increase Centralization cap by +1, grant access to Push Unity action, accelerate development of Culture resource, ???
Administration: Stone Age Council
Big Man Slate
Collective Decision Making
First Among Equals Council
Formalized Big Man Leadership
Construction: Earthenware Construction
Animal Glue
Bone
Earth
Fired Clay Brick
Lime
Structural Stone
Wood
Domesticated Animals: Early Domestication
Early Canine Companions
Tamed Orkers
Energy Production: Muscle and Fire
Canine Power
Fire
Farming Techniques: Refuse Reuse
Fish Gut Fertilizer
Horticulture
Food Production: Early Organized Crop Fields
Cultivation/Horticulture
Food Storage: Potted Desiccation
Brewing
Covered Pots
Drying
Herding
Pemmican
Salt
Smoking
Sugaring
Magic: Primitive Exothermic Reactions
Fire
Lime
Lye
Materials: Stone and Obsidian
Bone
Flint
Ivory
Plant Fibers
Sinew
Stone
Wood
Bone acoustic instruments
Chanting
Horns
Rhythmic drumming
Structures: Earthenware Construction
Brick Longhouse
Brick Wall
Techniques: Apprenticed Teaching
Binding
Carving
Fire shaping
Mortared Masonry
Tools/Weapons: Stone and Obsidian
Axe
Bone Armour
Fire
Knife
Macuahuitl
Rock Mace
Spear
Spear-Thrower
Sinew Flatbow
Quarterstaff
Wicker Shield (One Handed)
Transportation: Muscle Power
Birch Bark Canoes
Primitive Bone Skates
Dog Sleds (Winterized and Primitive Summer)
Rasbaska
Signal Fire Language
Snowshoes
Trace
Trailmarkers
Big Man Slate
Collective Decision Making
First Among Equals Council
Formalized Big Man Leadership
Construction: Earthenware Construction
Animal Glue
Bone
Earth
Fired Clay Brick
Lime
Structural Stone
Large Scale Stonecutting
Plant FibersWood
Domesticated Animals: Early Domestication
Early Canine Companions
Tamed Orkers
Energy Production: Muscle and Fire
Canine Power
Fire
Charcoal
Lime
Kilns
Rock Boiling
Muscle PowerLime
Kilns
Rock Boiling
Farming Techniques: Refuse Reuse
Fish Gut Fertilizer
Horticulture
Food Production: Early Organized Crop Fields
Cultivation/Horticulture
Organized Plots
Corn
Pumpkin
Squash
Quinoa
Wild Rice
FishingCorn
Pumpkin
Squash
Quinoa
Wild Rice
Entrapment
Net
Spear
GatheringNet
Spear
Berries (Elderberries, Strawberries, Blueberries, Cranberries, Cherries, Blackberries)
Condiments (Balsamroot, Evergreen)
Flowers (Fireweed, Sunflower)
Fruits (Plums, Persimmons, Grapes, Crabapples)
Nuts (Hickory, Walnut, Acorns, Hazelnut)
Vegetables (Beans, Fiddleheads)
HerdingCondiments (Balsamroot, Evergreen)
Flowers (Fireweed, Sunflower)
Fruits (Plums, Persimmons, Grapes, Crabapples)
Nuts (Hickory, Walnut, Acorns, Hazelnut)
Vegetables (Beans, Fiddleheads)
Dogs
Caribou
Orker
HuntingCaribou
Orker
Canine assisted hunts
Safe Animals (Turkey, small mammals, reptiles and amphibians)
Prey Animals (Deer, Elk, etc.)
Prize Animals (Wolves, Bear, Orker)
Refined FoodsSafe Animals (Turkey, small mammals, reptiles and amphibians)
Prey Animals (Deer, Elk, etc.)
Prize Animals (Wolves, Bear, Orker)
Maple Sugar
Spigot Collection
TrapsSpigot Collection
Bait
Conical Nets
Dead Fall
Pit
Snares
Conical Nets
Dead Fall
Pit
Snares
Food Storage: Potted Desiccation
Brewing
Covered Pots
Drying
Herding
Pemmican
Salt
Smoking
Sugaring
Magic: Primitive Exothermic Reactions
Fire
Lime
Lye
Materials: Stone and Obsidian
Bone
Flint
Ivory
Plant Fibers
Sinew
Stone
Amethyst
Citrine
Granite
Lapis Luzili
Limestone
Obsidian
Quartz
TerracottaCitrine
Granite
Lapis Luzili
Limestone
Obsidian
Quartz
Wood
Music: Crude, Natural InstrumentsBone acoustic instruments
Chanting
Horns
Rhythmic drumming
Structures: Earthenware Construction
Brick Longhouse
Brick Wall
Firing Step
Rampart
TemplesRampart
Corbel Arches
Decorative Pillars
Decorative Pillars
Techniques: Apprenticed Teaching
Binding
Carving
Fire shaping
Mortared Masonry
Tools/Weapons: Stone and Obsidian
Axe
Bone Armour
Fire
Knife
Macuahuitl
Rock Mace
Spear
Spear-Thrower
Sinew Flatbow
Quarterstaff
Wicker Shield (One Handed)
Transportation: Muscle Power
Birch Bark Canoes
Primitive Bone Skates
Dog Sleds (Winterized and Primitive Summer)
Rasbaska
Signal Fire Language
Snowshoes
Trace
Trailmarkers
Authority: Distributed Collectivized Leadership
Collective Decision Making
Specialization
Administrators: Aristocratic
Aristocrats
Council
Entertainment: Idle Time Filler
Gambling
Practice Fights
Scrimshaw
Organization: Stone Age
Apprenticeships
Early Polygamy
Extended Kinship Groups
Monogamy
Property: Non-Personal Possession
Communal Property
Reciprocal Lending
Interpersonal Debts
Records: Ancient Records
Memory
Oral History
Symbolic Tally
Religion: Ancient Ancestor Worship/Animism
Ancestor Worship
Animism
Mystery Cults
Rituals
Shamans
Temples
Roles: Stone Age Craftsmen
Artisan
Aristocrat
Craftsman
Food Producer
Shaman
Science: Shamanistic Secrets
Great Spirits
Magic
Spirits
Warriors: Ancient Warrior Clans
Elite Holy Orders
Folk Wrestling
Professional Warriors
Collective Decision Making
Specialization
Administrators: Aristocratic
Aristocrats
Council
Entertainment: Idle Time Filler
Gambling
Practice Fights
Scrimshaw
Organization: Stone Age
Apprenticeships
Early Polygamy
Extended Kinship Groups
Monogamy
Property: Non-Personal Possession
Communal Property
Reciprocal Lending
Interpersonal Debts
Records: Ancient Records
Memory
Oral History
Symbolic Tally
Religion: Ancient Ancestor Worship/Animism
Ancestor Worship
Animism
Mystery Cults
Rituals
Shamans
Temples
Roles: Stone Age Craftsmen
Artisan
Aristocrat
Craftsman
Food Producer
Shaman
Science: Shamanistic Secrets
Great Spirits
Magic
Spirits
Warriors: Ancient Warrior Clans
Elite Holy Orders
Folk Wrestling
Professional Warriors
Magic
Tally (100/100)
Abstract Tally (214/250)
Animism (50/50)Gods and Deities (200/200)
Ancestor Worship (0/???)
Hero Cults (0/???)
Elementalism (58/???)
Celestial Patterns (125/125)Ancestor Worship (0/???)
Hero Cults (0/???)
Elementalism (58/???)
Fire
Bricks (350/350)
Charcoal Kilns (200/200)
Copper Smelting (247/300)
Life
Horticulture (100/100)
Arboriculture (300/300) (Paradigm Change: 3 Turns)
Maple Sap (200/200)
Increased Maple Sap (0/Hard)
Increased Food Production (0/Moderate)
Increased Timber Production (0/Moderate)
Coppicing (0/Easy)
Agriculture (175/175)
Three Sisters (579/600)
Basic Irrigation (0/Easy)
Maple Sap (200/200)
Increased Maple Sap (0/Hard)
Increased Food Production (0/Moderate)
Increased Timber Production (0/Moderate)
Coppicing (0/Easy)
Agriculture (175/175)
Three Sisters (579/600)
Basic Irrigation (0/Easy)
Beast
Herding (250/250)
Caribou Taming (400/400)
Caribou Domestication (600/600)
Climate Adaptation (0/Hard)
Increased Hair Production (0/Easy)
Increased Size (0/Moderate)
Mammoth Taming (367/400)
Hunting (25/25)Caribou Domestication (600/600)
Climate Adaptation (0/Hard)
Increased Hair Production (0/Easy)
Increased Size (0/Moderate)
Mammoth Taming (367/400)
Dog Taming (150/150)
Dog Domestication (300/300)
Personal Dogs (0/Easy)
Hunting Dogs (0/Easy)
War Dogs (0/Moderate)
Herding Dogs (0/Moderate)
Orker Taming (400/400)
Orker Domestication (240/800)
Raven Taming (109/150)
Dog Domestication (300/300)
Personal Dogs (0/Easy)
Hunting Dogs (0/Easy)
War Dogs (0/Moderate)
Herding Dogs (0/Moderate)
Orker Taming (400/400)
Orker Domestication (240/800)
Raven Taming (109/150)
Stone
Lime Plaster (75/75) [Stone]
Stonecutting (100/100) [Stone]
Elementary Geology (42/Hard) [Stone]
Masonry (65/Moderate) [Stone]
Masonry (65/Moderate) [Stone]
Travel
Dog Sleds (125/125)
Advanced Dog Sleds (150/150)
Winter Travel (50/50)Traces (100/100)
Trails (200/200)
Roads (0/Very Hard)
Wheel (11/100)Roads (0/Very Hard)
Geography
Leader Board
Leader Board
- The People! (Prestige: 38, Army: Hardened Neolithic Warriors and Holy Orders, Economy: Agriculture Supplemented with Hunting, Art: Sacred Construction and Advanced High Quality Tools, Magic: Fire, Stone, and Spirit)
- Tribe of the West (Prestige: 29, Army: Numerous Professional Neolithic Warriors, Economy: Unprecedented Boom in Agriculture, Art: Innumerable Tools, Magic: All Things Alive)
- Island Makers (Prestige: 20, Army: Elite Neolithic Warriors, Economy: Intense Early Agriculture, Art: Advanced Quality Tools, Magic: Earth and Water)
- Peace Builders (Prestige: 19, Army: Fanatical Neolithic Warriors, Economy: Broad Agriculture and Aquaculture, Art: Ephemeral Crafts and Imported Advanced High Quality Tools, Magic: Of Song and Story)
- Roundstone (Prestige: 18, Army: Professional Slingers, Economy: Extensive Aquaculture, Art: Cloth and Paint, Magic: Shouts)
- Bond Breakers (Prestige: 17, Army: Organizing Militia, Economy: Early Agricultre, Art: Durable Weapons, Magic: Little)
- Cracktooth (Prestige: 17, Army: Bloodthirsty Militia, Economy: Agrculture and Herding, Art: Tools of Terror, Magic: Bone and Beat)
- Lakeland (Prestige: 16, Canoe Archers, Economy: Hunter-Gatherer, Art: Rugged Tools, Magic: Little)
- Pearl Divers (Prestige: 14, Army: Informal Militia, Economy: Early Fishing and Aquaculture, Art: Beautified Dependable Tools, Magic: Sea and Salt)
- Cateye (Prestige: 14, Army: Hit and Run, Economy: Hunter-Gatherer with Trade, Art: Glittering Gifts and Functional Tools, Magic: Corruption)
- Arrow Lake (Prestige: 10, Army: Informal, Devastated Militia, Economy: Near Starvation, Art: Sacred Iconography, Magic: Stone and Slaves)
- Stoutheart (Prestige: 1, Army: Organizing Militia, Economy: Subsistence Hunter-Gatherer, Art: Little, Magic: Little)
- Hard Foot (Prestige: 1, Army: Angry Militia, Economy: Recovering, Art: Little, Magic: Little)
- Soft Eyes (Prestige 1, Army: Coalescing Militia, Economy: On the Dole, Art: Little, Magic: Little)
- River Tribe (Prestige: ?, Army: ?, Economy: ?, Art: ?, Magic ?)
Last edited:
Foreword
Welcome to the 3rd spiritual successor to AcademiaNut's wildly popular Paths of Civilizations. Unlike PoC, Settlers of (Yu)Catan, and From the Cradle of the Neolithic, the system used in this quest will be significantly more focused on pure narrative. There are still numbers under the hood, but those will be things that help me keep track of narrative factors. PoC and SoY are supremely math intense and I am not keen on emphasizing that. I want this game to be something that is accessible to everyone who's interested in playing instead of being dominated by an elite few who can grasp the mechanics and plans become arcane.
With that in mind, there are a few things that everyone should know before we start:
Known Mechanics
With that in mind, there are a few things that everyone should know before we start:
- Actions form the narrative
- Narrative informs actions
- The GM is always available to clarify (IC) options
- Communicate with each other
- This will be difficult
- Have fun
Known Mechanics
People of outstanding skill and great worth, Heroes are more skilled than their common counterparts. Specialized in a specific field (Administration, Diplomacy, Martial) they are often people who would be recorded in the history books.
A Hero provides a free innovation roll related to their specialty every turn them live and sometimes give unique opportunities or extra actions beyond what you would normally receive. They also greatly increase the impact of high rolls and mitigate the effects of low ones.
The downside of Heroes is that these important people are often willful and opinionated. They may veto certain options they go against their specialty. They also can take actions — even a whole turn — away from the players. These action choices are usually optimized along the Heroes' specialty but you'll get back control once the Heroes dies.
When Heroes take over a turn depends on your government type and certain other factors. Currently, Diplomacy Heroes automatically take over the turn. As your civilization develops and goes in a warlike direction, Martial Heroes can take over. Civilizations with massive bureaucracies or a high level of Hierarchy are vulnerable to Administration Heroes.
A Hero provides a free innovation roll related to their specialty every turn them live and sometimes give unique opportunities or extra actions beyond what you would normally receive. They also greatly increase the impact of high rolls and mitigate the effects of low ones.
The downside of Heroes is that these important people are often willful and opinionated. They may veto certain options they go against their specialty. They also can take actions — even a whole turn — away from the players. These action choices are usually optimized along the Heroes' specialty but you'll get back control once the Heroes dies.
When Heroes take over a turn depends on your government type and certain other factors. Currently, Diplomacy Heroes automatically take over the turn. As your civilization develops and goes in a warlike direction, Martial Heroes can take over. Civilizations with massive bureaucracies or a high level of Hierarchy are vulnerable to Administration Heroes.
In the Neolithic Age, obtaining food was a constant struggle. Often times, some activities were simply a net loss of calories. Until the situation changes and your food throughput stabilizes, Econ is set into a tier system that must be manually regenerated.
Most activities do not drive you up or down. Building a Palisade or Shrine costs one tier of surplus, building a Settlement costs two.
Expand Hunting will grant one extra and Expand Agriculture will grant a temporary one that becomes permanent on a climate roll >50. Manage Forest does not yet increase Econ tier. Great Climate (>70) will provide one free Econ Tier of its own. Epic Climate (>85) will provide two.
Econ Tiers: Famine < Severe Starvation < Starvation < Hungry < Edge of Hunger < Tiny Surplus < Small Surplus < Moderate Surplus < Large Surplus < The Food Rots Before We Eat It!
Most activities do not drive you up or down. Building a Palisade or Shrine costs one tier of surplus, building a Settlement costs two.
Expand Hunting will grant one extra and Expand Agriculture will grant a temporary one that becomes permanent on a climate roll >50. Manage Forest does not yet increase Econ tier. Great Climate (>70) will provide one free Econ Tier of its own. Epic Climate (>85) will provide two.
Econ Tiers: Famine < Severe Starvation < Starvation < Hungry < Edge of Hunger < Tiny Surplus < Small Surplus < Moderate Surplus < Large Surplus < The Food Rots Before We Eat It!
During a Trend, a specific type of trade good becomes significantly more profitable than it would normally be. Trends are generally transitory, but during that time can be extremely powerful for whomever controls the source of the trending good. Leading traders get twice the normal profit. Dominant ones get three times the benefit. Based on the current economic type, trends boost diplomacy. After currency is invented, they will boost wealth. Factions wanting a Trend Good, but being unable to obtain them, for whatever reason, will suffer Stability damage.
Trigger: Trade good is in great demand by 1 Regional Power, 3 regular powers, OR 5 minor powers.
Effect: Leading traders get double profit, Dominant ones triple; Stability damage for recipient powers who can't obtain the trending good
Trigger: Trade good is in great demand by 1 Regional Power, 3 regular powers, OR 5 minor powers.
Effect: Leading traders get double profit, Dominant ones triple; Stability damage for recipient powers who can't obtain the trending good
In order to deal with an imbalance of trade, a Faction has entered an unorthodox trade arrangement. This arrangement involves trading technology or other valuable ideas in order to fulfill this demand. This trade may be severed at any time by the one offering technology, but there is often a reason why they are forced into this position. Retribution may be swift for breaking such agreements.
Effects: Unorthodox Trade Recipients gain 1 innovation roll each turn with technologies taken from the unorthodox trader's entire technology list
Trigger: Lose a war; trade imbalance; diplomatic action
Effects: Unorthodox Trade Recipients gain 1 innovation roll each turn with technologies taken from the unorthodox trader's entire technology list
Trigger: Lose a war; trade imbalance; diplomatic action
Last edited:
2.0 Dread Orker
[X] Chasing Wanderlust
[X] The Beasts
Viktor stalked slowly beneath the tops of the trees. His people had settled comfortably into a lowland river plain to rest, gather resources and rebuild their strength. He had remembered, vaguely, debates among the adults when he was an unbearded youth whether they should stay or move on. Those who said they should move on won, after fierce debate and many years. They place they had stopped had been beautiful, but it was only a tiny section of the entire world. There was so much more to see.
Value Gained!
Wanderlust
He was in the wilderness a short walk from the tribe's camp along the stony shore. The leaf litter and soft forest loam were home to numerous creatures, he merely had to find one. Even if he didn't, it was certain that one of the other hunters would find something. Even if only one of them succeeded in taking down a good sized beast, that would be enough to feed all of the People for a day. Whenever you made a kill, you shared and then were shared with in turn when your hunt brought nothing.
Of course, there were benefits to being the one that took home the day's kill. The People appreciated a killer and the women... he smiled at the thought before shaking his head. Ignore that, he reminded himself. Instead of having thoughts wander, you needed to think like a beast if you wanted to find one and Viktor was the best at that.
Checking the ground, Viktor paused, faint stirrings of fear crawling up his spine. Orker tracks. The People had learned much about the beasts that inhabited the land and of them all, the orker was the most fearsome. Each one they'd seen stood taller at the shoulder than a man was tall. Even if he were to reach his hands up as high as he could, Viktor wasn't certain if they would be higher. Their faces were bony, stretched taught across molted brown and grey skin. It almost looked like someone had taken their skull, boiled it, and stretched old leather over the remains. Combined with their massive body, they were a sight that every right thinking man feared.
Viktor remembered a story one of the older men had told around the campfire. He'd apparently witnessed an orker get ornery with an outcropping of rock. It has bashed its skull against the stone and the stone lost.
The tracks that he saw in the dirt were huge, even for orker standards. Each indent in the track was a large as his entire hand. No, Viktor wanted none of that. He'd much rather hunt something safe, like one of the brown ones. Those might rip a man limb from bloody limb, but at least with them, there was a chance to fight back. No man had ever killed an orker.
The sole reason that they knew that the orkers were not spirit made flesh was because they had seen dead ones in their distant travels. Rarely, very rarely. Huge beasts, most of them had died of natural causes or frozen to death when the world had ended. He'd never heard of them being killed, even by brown ones or packs of wolves.
Out of all the animals Viktor hoped to encounter, he hoped that he would see one of the horned ones. For all the fact that they were one of the few animals that the spirits had seen fit to bless with weapons, they were generally pretty cowardly. Show your face and they would run. Of course, that was the challenge. Find the beast, but not get so close that you it suddenly became tempted to lash out at you. Much better to take it at a distance, hit it with a bow, and then follow it until it finally dropped. He'd have to run after it, but that was a small price to bring home a safe prize. After all, you couldn't enjoy the rewards if you were dead. Worst come to worst, he'd be fine with one of those flightless birds. They were no risk and there was countless numbers of them, but there was no reputation in that hunt.
Pulling up to a tree overlooking a forgotten glen, Viktor slowly grinned. He spied a wolf, eyes slowly tracking for signs of threat. He was up wind, the thing didn't likely see him yet. The pet on it was extremely fine, soft from what he could see and there was plenty meat on its bones. He didn't even have to think before pulling arrows from his belt and sighting down his bow. Wolves were one of the worst animals. They hunted in packs and stole food from the People wherever they could.
Something caused him to hesitate, though. The wolf's head snapped to the left and fixated on Viktor, ears rotating round. Then it howled and the world exploded. Viktor's world exploded as he was smashed to the ground and trees crashed down while an orker charged the clearing. Sound erupted from from the great beast's throat, an unholy sound like a mountain had squealed. Above a bloodied muzzle, beady eyes fixed themselves on Viktor; all he could feel was fear. The only reason he'd survived was because he'd gotten clipped by a flying tree branch, not even the thing's main charge.
Honed instinct caused Viktor to pull back his bow and loose. The arrow impacted just below the orker's eye, but had all of the force of a feather. The flint tip shattered and its flesh was cut, but the arrow bounced off without doing any real damage.
Viktor whirled and run. It was futile to run from an orker. Their legs were longer, they could crash through brush and undergrowth that would hinder a normal person; you might as well run from an avalanche for all the good it did you. Viktor knew he was just going to die tired.
Stumbling over a root, Viktor went down hard. Something snapped by the time he'd rolled to a stop. It's only the bow, he thought hysterically. It's not your leg, get up and move! The orker squealed again, smashing brush and roots aside as it charged. Hate seemed to infuse its very spirit. Hate and the want to destroy. Each tusk hanging from its maw was long enough to gut a man; the thing was obviously made to kill.
Praying to all of the spirits for mercy, Viktor's brain short circuited when he saw the wolf from before leap. It flew in a ball of fur and fang, taking chunks out of the back of the orker's leg. The beast bellowed and kicked, sending the brave wolf flying before awkwardly turning to face it.
Everything was a farce, Viktor realized. The wolf I was going to kill, defending me from an orker. Seeing the little thing up against a great, demonic beast made him laugh. He continued to laugh when he drew the axe from his belt and slammed it into the orker's other leg. I'm already dead, Viktor rationalized. My body simply hasn't stopped. Freeze me, I'm not going to let someone fight for me while I run.
The orker squealed and bucked. The creature was massive and even though it only bounced into Viktor, it sent him tumbling roughly over the ground. He slammed into a root and it instantly robbed him of breath. Fighting past the stars in his vision, Viktor struggled to his feet. Something is his side was on fire. Every breath brought shooting pains from his feet to his head.
The orker wasn't doing so well, he saw. The thing limped with every step it took. Only the fact that it had four limbs allowed it to even stand, blood ran freely from the wound it had taken from the axe. The wound wasn't deep, but even a small cut to the leg seemed to really hobble the beast. It didn't even seem to be that agile. Orkers were wickedly fast on the charge, but it stumbled when facing both wolf and man working together. The wolf moved quickly, nipping and keeping the orker off balance while the man struck deep blows into the openings created. It was something that neither could do along, but worked so well together.
Something in Viktor's head was twisted, he realized when another axe blow slammed into the orker's underside. This was too much fun! He was laughing and crying, fighting a demon alongside some type of wolf spirit. Agony mixed with joy and he laughed! He must be dreaming!
But... dreams end.
The wolf was a second slow, the orker stepped up, there was a crunch and the wolf howled before going utterly silent. Viktor lost it. Red descended on his vision and he slammed his axe home in the orker's underbelly so hard it stuck. Pulling his knife, Viktor leaped and stabbed, dragging himself up onto the creature's back. He couldn't retreat. He couldn't count on his friend. It was just like wrestling with his brothers, he reasoned. Control their back and go for the head.
The orker went mad trying to knock him off, but Viktor managed to clamp on with his knees. Flint flashed in his hand and slammed directly into the beast's eye. The creature squealed and blood welled, but the knife chipped. Even the orker's eyes were made of bone. Viktor didn't care and slammed the knife home again and again. It bounced the first time and the second, but on the third it finally sunk home. The resistance seemed to suddenly vanish between the beast's shoulder and skull.
The orker went nuts, charging through the trees, scattering them but stopped instantly when Viktor dragged the knife across the soft hollow. He jumped and the orker crashed to the ground. It was still alive, glaring hatefully all the while, but it could move. Viktor felt a sense of perverse satisfaction as the light slowly left the thing's eyes.
"I'll enjoy eating you," he promised the beast.
Not much was left of the wolf spirit when Viktor went back to inspect it. The thing's bones and muscles were pulped. Its skin had ripped and burst from the sheer amount of pressure that had been exerted on it. It looked like a bug that someone had caught and then crushed. Obviously dead.
Whatever feelings Viktor had were cut off by a soft yipping coming from the edge of the glade. Wolf cubs. That was why the wolf fought an orker and fought it to the death. "You still saved my life, spirit," Viktor said. He thought of his club, momentarily, but knew that wasn't the answer. It would be swift death and one free of complication, but he couldn't do that to the children of the spirit that had saved him. Wolves were hated since the stole kills from hunters and occasionally chased the People. Their ancestor had paid their way, Viktor was sure. An orker weighted more than ten and ten men. Even if they smoked it, most of the meat would likely go to waste.
It was the People's rule that the kith and kin of a dead hunter would receive their share. It protected everyone, their families, and encouraged hunters to range further and go for larger kills. Were the wolves not hunters as was he? They were entitled to a share and he would fight that they receive it.
The People had flourished along the Stony Shore, taking countless beasts and other animals for food, shelter, and clothing. Their hunt consumed things from the large, flightless glitter birds, to horned ones, brown ones, wolves, and even dread orkers. Where did the People specialize in their hunts?
[ ] [Food] Safe Game
[ ] [Food] Prey Animals
[ ] [Food] Prize Animals
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick 1)
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Venerate Spirits
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] North-East
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] South
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
[X] The Beasts
Viktor stalked slowly beneath the tops of the trees. His people had settled comfortably into a lowland river plain to rest, gather resources and rebuild their strength. He had remembered, vaguely, debates among the adults when he was an unbearded youth whether they should stay or move on. Those who said they should move on won, after fierce debate and many years. They place they had stopped had been beautiful, but it was only a tiny section of the entire world. There was so much more to see.
Value Gained!
Wanderlust
The People's hearts are constantly in motion. With every beat and every breath, they wonder: What lies beyond? Only the dead have ceased their walk; people and beasts were built to move. That was simply the way the spirits willed it.
Pros: Bonus for actions related to exploration or movement
Cons: Strife caused by permanent settlement; strife variable based on the degree of permanence
Pros: Bonus for actions related to exploration or movement
Cons: Strife caused by permanent settlement; strife variable based on the degree of permanence
He was in the wilderness a short walk from the tribe's camp along the stony shore. The leaf litter and soft forest loam were home to numerous creatures, he merely had to find one. Even if he didn't, it was certain that one of the other hunters would find something. Even if only one of them succeeded in taking down a good sized beast, that would be enough to feed all of the People for a day. Whenever you made a kill, you shared and then were shared with in turn when your hunt brought nothing.
Of course, there were benefits to being the one that took home the day's kill. The People appreciated a killer and the women... he smiled at the thought before shaking his head. Ignore that, he reminded himself. Instead of having thoughts wander, you needed to think like a beast if you wanted to find one and Viktor was the best at that.
Checking the ground, Viktor paused, faint stirrings of fear crawling up his spine. Orker tracks. The People had learned much about the beasts that inhabited the land and of them all, the orker was the most fearsome. Each one they'd seen stood taller at the shoulder than a man was tall. Even if he were to reach his hands up as high as he could, Viktor wasn't certain if they would be higher. Their faces were bony, stretched taught across molted brown and grey skin. It almost looked like someone had taken their skull, boiled it, and stretched old leather over the remains. Combined with their massive body, they were a sight that every right thinking man feared.
Viktor remembered a story one of the older men had told around the campfire. He'd apparently witnessed an orker get ornery with an outcropping of rock. It has bashed its skull against the stone and the stone lost.
The tracks that he saw in the dirt were huge, even for orker standards. Each indent in the track was a large as his entire hand. No, Viktor wanted none of that. He'd much rather hunt something safe, like one of the brown ones. Those might rip a man limb from bloody limb, but at least with them, there was a chance to fight back. No man had ever killed an orker.
The sole reason that they knew that the orkers were not spirit made flesh was because they had seen dead ones in their distant travels. Rarely, very rarely. Huge beasts, most of them had died of natural causes or frozen to death when the world had ended. He'd never heard of them being killed, even by brown ones or packs of wolves.
Out of all the animals Viktor hoped to encounter, he hoped that he would see one of the horned ones. For all the fact that they were one of the few animals that the spirits had seen fit to bless with weapons, they were generally pretty cowardly. Show your face and they would run. Of course, that was the challenge. Find the beast, but not get so close that you it suddenly became tempted to lash out at you. Much better to take it at a distance, hit it with a bow, and then follow it until it finally dropped. He'd have to run after it, but that was a small price to bring home a safe prize. After all, you couldn't enjoy the rewards if you were dead. Worst come to worst, he'd be fine with one of those flightless birds. They were no risk and there was countless numbers of them, but there was no reputation in that hunt.
Pulling up to a tree overlooking a forgotten glen, Viktor slowly grinned. He spied a wolf, eyes slowly tracking for signs of threat. He was up wind, the thing didn't likely see him yet. The pet on it was extremely fine, soft from what he could see and there was plenty meat on its bones. He didn't even have to think before pulling arrows from his belt and sighting down his bow. Wolves were one of the worst animals. They hunted in packs and stole food from the People wherever they could.
Something caused him to hesitate, though. The wolf's head snapped to the left and fixated on Viktor, ears rotating round. Then it howled and the world exploded. Viktor's world exploded as he was smashed to the ground and trees crashed down while an orker charged the clearing. Sound erupted from from the great beast's throat, an unholy sound like a mountain had squealed. Above a bloodied muzzle, beady eyes fixed themselves on Viktor; all he could feel was fear. The only reason he'd survived was because he'd gotten clipped by a flying tree branch, not even the thing's main charge.
Honed instinct caused Viktor to pull back his bow and loose. The arrow impacted just below the orker's eye, but had all of the force of a feather. The flint tip shattered and its flesh was cut, but the arrow bounced off without doing any real damage.
Viktor whirled and run. It was futile to run from an orker. Their legs were longer, they could crash through brush and undergrowth that would hinder a normal person; you might as well run from an avalanche for all the good it did you. Viktor knew he was just going to die tired.
Stumbling over a root, Viktor went down hard. Something snapped by the time he'd rolled to a stop. It's only the bow, he thought hysterically. It's not your leg, get up and move! The orker squealed again, smashing brush and roots aside as it charged. Hate seemed to infuse its very spirit. Hate and the want to destroy. Each tusk hanging from its maw was long enough to gut a man; the thing was obviously made to kill.
Praying to all of the spirits for mercy, Viktor's brain short circuited when he saw the wolf from before leap. It flew in a ball of fur and fang, taking chunks out of the back of the orker's leg. The beast bellowed and kicked, sending the brave wolf flying before awkwardly turning to face it.
Everything was a farce, Viktor realized. The wolf I was going to kill, defending me from an orker. Seeing the little thing up against a great, demonic beast made him laugh. He continued to laugh when he drew the axe from his belt and slammed it into the orker's other leg. I'm already dead, Viktor rationalized. My body simply hasn't stopped. Freeze me, I'm not going to let someone fight for me while I run.
The orker squealed and bucked. The creature was massive and even though it only bounced into Viktor, it sent him tumbling roughly over the ground. He slammed into a root and it instantly robbed him of breath. Fighting past the stars in his vision, Viktor struggled to his feet. Something is his side was on fire. Every breath brought shooting pains from his feet to his head.
The orker wasn't doing so well, he saw. The thing limped with every step it took. Only the fact that it had four limbs allowed it to even stand, blood ran freely from the wound it had taken from the axe. The wound wasn't deep, but even a small cut to the leg seemed to really hobble the beast. It didn't even seem to be that agile. Orkers were wickedly fast on the charge, but it stumbled when facing both wolf and man working together. The wolf moved quickly, nipping and keeping the orker off balance while the man struck deep blows into the openings created. It was something that neither could do along, but worked so well together.
Something in Viktor's head was twisted, he realized when another axe blow slammed into the orker's underside. This was too much fun! He was laughing and crying, fighting a demon alongside some type of wolf spirit. Agony mixed with joy and he laughed! He must be dreaming!
But... dreams end.
The wolf was a second slow, the orker stepped up, there was a crunch and the wolf howled before going utterly silent. Viktor lost it. Red descended on his vision and he slammed his axe home in the orker's underbelly so hard it stuck. Pulling his knife, Viktor leaped and stabbed, dragging himself up onto the creature's back. He couldn't retreat. He couldn't count on his friend. It was just like wrestling with his brothers, he reasoned. Control their back and go for the head.
The orker went mad trying to knock him off, but Viktor managed to clamp on with his knees. Flint flashed in his hand and slammed directly into the beast's eye. The creature squealed and blood welled, but the knife chipped. Even the orker's eyes were made of bone. Viktor didn't care and slammed the knife home again and again. It bounced the first time and the second, but on the third it finally sunk home. The resistance seemed to suddenly vanish between the beast's shoulder and skull.
The orker went nuts, charging through the trees, scattering them but stopped instantly when Viktor dragged the knife across the soft hollow. He jumped and the orker crashed to the ground. It was still alive, glaring hatefully all the while, but it could move. Viktor felt a sense of perverse satisfaction as the light slowly left the thing's eyes.
"I'll enjoy eating you," he promised the beast.
Not much was left of the wolf spirit when Viktor went back to inspect it. The thing's bones and muscles were pulped. Its skin had ripped and burst from the sheer amount of pressure that had been exerted on it. It looked like a bug that someone had caught and then crushed. Obviously dead.
Whatever feelings Viktor had were cut off by a soft yipping coming from the edge of the glade. Wolf cubs. That was why the wolf fought an orker and fought it to the death. "You still saved my life, spirit," Viktor said. He thought of his club, momentarily, but knew that wasn't the answer. It would be swift death and one free of complication, but he couldn't do that to the children of the spirit that had saved him. Wolves were hated since the stole kills from hunters and occasionally chased the People. Their ancestor had paid their way, Viktor was sure. An orker weighted more than ten and ten men. Even if they smoked it, most of the meat would likely go to waste.
It was the People's rule that the kith and kin of a dead hunter would receive their share. It protected everyone, their families, and encouraged hunters to range further and go for larger kills. Were the wolves not hunters as was he? They were entitled to a share and he would fight that they receive it.
The People had flourished along the Stony Shore, taking countless beasts and other animals for food, shelter, and clothing. Their hunt consumed things from the large, flightless glitter birds, to horned ones, brown ones, wolves, and even dread orkers. Where did the People specialize in their hunts?
[ ] [Food] Safe Game
[ ] [Food] Prey Animals
[ ] [Food] Prize Animals
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick 1)
Expand Wolfpacks - Increase the number of tamed wolves that follow the People. Willfully leave out food for them in order to attract more wolves and begin taking their young into the tribe as Hunters.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wanderlust bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Unlocked by Wanderlust) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Venerate Spirits - Offer thanks to the spirits for their gracious prevision of the world, even as it struggles through cycles of life and death.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wanderlust bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Unlocked by Wanderlust) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Venerate Spirits - Offer thanks to the spirits for their gracious prevision of the world, even as it struggles through cycles of life and death.
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Venerate Spirits
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] North-East
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] South
3.0 Crystal Lake
[X] [Food] Prey Animals
[X] [Action] Expand Wolfpack
[X] [Go] East
They had found paradise.
There was no other words to describe the vistas the swept out before the People. Slowly, over years and years, as a new generation came to be raised, the People had drifted to the east, towards the rising sun. There had been whispers of discontent, numerous and persistent, but quiet, that the east was an accursed land. It was the realm of the dead, a place so hellish that to step foot in it damned souls to death. Even spirits of rock and sky didn't exist there, just empty shells of things once inhabited.
Some had slowly and quietly walked away from the People, refusing to step foot in such a place. Their numbers were small and it took years before the elders even realized that it was happening at all. Always was there those who left the People. Young men whose wanderlust was too great, causing them to strike out on their own to see all that they could see. Young women who were enticed to the south by promises of the tribes there. Hunters that set out and lost their way back, or were slain on a hunt.
Thinking of those numbers, the brothers and sisters and cousins who had left, filled the heart of every elder with sadness. The fact that people didn't have faith in the tribe's leadership had insulted some, but those who were faithful were richly, ridiculously rewarded. The birds and beasts were thick in the new lands of the east. Any hunter, even children barely trained, could go out and come back with multiple kills. Even those who gathered roots and vegetables, produced more food, more beautiful and of greater quantity than any member of the tribe could ever remember! Even the weather, the snows and the killing cold hung less in the air. Where before snow might build up high enough to trap a man at the shoulder, it was now reduced merely to his knee.
In fact, there was so much food that there were times that the People refused to search for more! They could not eat it and they could not make it keep with smoke and drying, or by storing it in pots, before it would rot.
With the immense excess of food, some of the elders had successfully argued the the People should feed the wolves that stalked them. There were questions and concerns; what if that encouraged the wolves? Whetted their appetite for more blood? Still, the thought of seeing good meat rot was too painful for even the most cautious and conservative of the tribe's elders. Seeing food go to waste when every man, woman, and child had, at points, known the pain of empty bellies was unthinkable.
Even that unorthodox decision paid many dividends. By feeding the wolves, the People reduced the number of attacks against their camp that occurred every year. Fewer children were lost in the dead of night and there were fewer instances where hunters had to watch in frustration as wolves poached the flesh of their kills. Now, the amount of food fed to the wolves was actually dwarfed by the amount it saved them in loss. A hunter might have to section off the hind quarter of every other kill, but compared to losing one of three kills wholesale when the wolves decided to steal it? It was a cheap price to pay.
The wolves and their spirits seemed to know the terms of the exchange implicitly. Aggressive wolves, those that attacked other packs or the People, were cast out or slain. No more were kills fought over by wolves and men. If any tribe not of the People approached, they had to deal with the wolves and the wolves knew not to be friends with them. Their howls provided hours of warning to the People and scared many ambitious wanderers who might be tempted to theft or murder.
On top of that, there had been secondary effects no elder could have easily predicted. The area that they had moved to was fertile, a bounteous region in an otherwise harsh world. Great stone hills rose to the north and the south, forcing the traffic of the People towards the central river and accompanying lake system. It also forced animals, the horned ones in particular, to come close.
By stationing their food drop offs along the stony hills, the People had inadvertently infested the hills with wolves. If any of the antlered ones now wanted to pass through the valley in any degree of safety, they had to pass along the river, and thus, by the People. The mere presence of a place where wolves had been seemed to scare and terrify the normally panicked antlered ones. It had made hunting, once a dangerous affair, into something almost trivial. Instead of stalking beasts for hours and hours, the People need merely spread out loosely and there was no way for the antlered ones to avoid their spears and arrows.
Some had even started to suggest increasing the number of wolves further. The valley itself was fairly narrow from the north and in the south. In the east, the valley slowly narrowed further around a series of lakes until they dumped into a mighty river the cut from the north and flowed down to the east. Settling up a bottleneck there, making it outright impossible for the antlered ones to pass by would be trivial. If they could then find some way to trap them in the west, then they could hold a herd of hundreds of antlered ones easily within reach. Given the sheer bounty of their current location, they could easily support the beasts and only cull the few animals they would need to keep the People and the wolves fed daily.
It was a tempting thought. Sorrily tempting. Some had taken that bounty as evidence in the opposite direction and that to wander was right since the spirits clearly richly rewarded it.
The tribe was deeply divided on the matter, perhaps more so than on any other issue that they could recall. They now had a place of ridiculous bounty, a place where the snows and the wind and cold did not cut through them nearly as harshly. A land that was much, much warmer than anyone of them could remember being true for their harsh homeland.
They were in a place that held a Wonder.
The river that cut through the center of the lowlands led up into a series of four small, nearly interconnected lakes. The first two were uninteresting, no different than any of the hundreds of other lakes that dotted the region. The third... though. The People had taken to calling it the Crystal Lake. The highest of the four, the one where the waters started to flow east instead of back to the west, was unlike anything the People could recall. It was fairly shallow, between knee and hip deep on a grown man, but it was remarkably clear, almost as if there wasn't even water there.
The water did very much exist and it covered an enormous treasure trove. Huge white, opaque sparkling stones covered the bottom of the lake. They ranged in size from pebbles, to chunks around the size of one of the People. The lake bed was deep enough that even when a group of youths spent days of their idle time digging, they couldn't find where the stones ended.
Each stone glittered, light breaking off into countless little dots of light trapped within the white stone; almost like drifting snow that fell on cold nights. These white stones were extremely difficult to break, so much so that they were nearly impossible to knapp without shattering. When they were made into tools, the edge they held was sharp enough that it could scratch the toughest stone the People could find!
None of that even touched on the beauty of the white stones. It was quite unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Some people had even been caught, lazily staring at the stones, entranced by their senses! They were just thinking of ways to use this new, miracle material, they promised the elders when asked. They were not entranced by it.
A few of the People's keen eyed explorers had even found areas where the Crystal Lake's crystals were different. They were of a colour that none of the People could even name! It was only once one of the elders complained of having to chew a serving of blue berries without any teeth that a comparison was discovered. These new, rare crystals were of a very similar shade to the mashed gruel the elder had asked for.
Whitestone and Berrystone, surely they were a gift from the spirits! A new Wonder to capture the beauty of the amazing land.
As if to echo that sentiment, the spirits sent a child. One that looked very little like one of the People. He had darkened skin, curly hair, and water coloured eyes like some of the People, but his hair's colour betrayed his spirit-touched nature. It was close to the colour of snow, not the typical black.
What did all of this mean, the elders wondered?
When the debates settled, how did the People interpret the patterns in the weather and the discovery of Crystal Lake?
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the People must always be on the move!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the spirits leave great Wonders they want the People to find!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, they wanted to be useful!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, they needed beautiful things!
[ ] [Value] This place was a trap, cursed and evil! The stones took the soul from man as he gazed upon them (Climate Crit)
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick1 2 for Climate Crit!)
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[ ] [Action] Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone
Do the People move as the years pass by? (Chance of Wanderlust penalty triggering: Extremely Low)
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] South (Too Dangerous)
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
[X] [Action] Expand Wolfpack
[X] [Go] East
They had found paradise.
There was no other words to describe the vistas the swept out before the People. Slowly, over years and years, as a new generation came to be raised, the People had drifted to the east, towards the rising sun. There had been whispers of discontent, numerous and persistent, but quiet, that the east was an accursed land. It was the realm of the dead, a place so hellish that to step foot in it damned souls to death. Even spirits of rock and sky didn't exist there, just empty shells of things once inhabited.
Some had slowly and quietly walked away from the People, refusing to step foot in such a place. Their numbers were small and it took years before the elders even realized that it was happening at all. Always was there those who left the People. Young men whose wanderlust was too great, causing them to strike out on their own to see all that they could see. Young women who were enticed to the south by promises of the tribes there. Hunters that set out and lost their way back, or were slain on a hunt.
Thinking of those numbers, the brothers and sisters and cousins who had left, filled the heart of every elder with sadness. The fact that people didn't have faith in the tribe's leadership had insulted some, but those who were faithful were richly, ridiculously rewarded. The birds and beasts were thick in the new lands of the east. Any hunter, even children barely trained, could go out and come back with multiple kills. Even those who gathered roots and vegetables, produced more food, more beautiful and of greater quantity than any member of the tribe could ever remember! Even the weather, the snows and the killing cold hung less in the air. Where before snow might build up high enough to trap a man at the shoulder, it was now reduced merely to his knee.
In fact, there was so much food that there were times that the People refused to search for more! They could not eat it and they could not make it keep with smoke and drying, or by storing it in pots, before it would rot.
With the immense excess of food, some of the elders had successfully argued the the People should feed the wolves that stalked them. There were questions and concerns; what if that encouraged the wolves? Whetted their appetite for more blood? Still, the thought of seeing good meat rot was too painful for even the most cautious and conservative of the tribe's elders. Seeing food go to waste when every man, woman, and child had, at points, known the pain of empty bellies was unthinkable.
Even that unorthodox decision paid many dividends. By feeding the wolves, the People reduced the number of attacks against their camp that occurred every year. Fewer children were lost in the dead of night and there were fewer instances where hunters had to watch in frustration as wolves poached the flesh of their kills. Now, the amount of food fed to the wolves was actually dwarfed by the amount it saved them in loss. A hunter might have to section off the hind quarter of every other kill, but compared to losing one of three kills wholesale when the wolves decided to steal it? It was a cheap price to pay.
The wolves and their spirits seemed to know the terms of the exchange implicitly. Aggressive wolves, those that attacked other packs or the People, were cast out or slain. No more were kills fought over by wolves and men. If any tribe not of the People approached, they had to deal with the wolves and the wolves knew not to be friends with them. Their howls provided hours of warning to the People and scared many ambitious wanderers who might be tempted to theft or murder.
On top of that, there had been secondary effects no elder could have easily predicted. The area that they had moved to was fertile, a bounteous region in an otherwise harsh world. Great stone hills rose to the north and the south, forcing the traffic of the People towards the central river and accompanying lake system. It also forced animals, the horned ones in particular, to come close.
By stationing their food drop offs along the stony hills, the People had inadvertently infested the hills with wolves. If any of the antlered ones now wanted to pass through the valley in any degree of safety, they had to pass along the river, and thus, by the People. The mere presence of a place where wolves had been seemed to scare and terrify the normally panicked antlered ones. It had made hunting, once a dangerous affair, into something almost trivial. Instead of stalking beasts for hours and hours, the People need merely spread out loosely and there was no way for the antlered ones to avoid their spears and arrows.
Some had even started to suggest increasing the number of wolves further. The valley itself was fairly narrow from the north and in the south. In the east, the valley slowly narrowed further around a series of lakes until they dumped into a mighty river the cut from the north and flowed down to the east. Settling up a bottleneck there, making it outright impossible for the antlered ones to pass by would be trivial. If they could then find some way to trap them in the west, then they could hold a herd of hundreds of antlered ones easily within reach. Given the sheer bounty of their current location, they could easily support the beasts and only cull the few animals they would need to keep the People and the wolves fed daily.
It was a tempting thought. Sorrily tempting. Some had taken that bounty as evidence in the opposite direction and that to wander was right since the spirits clearly richly rewarded it.
The tribe was deeply divided on the matter, perhaps more so than on any other issue that they could recall. They now had a place of ridiculous bounty, a place where the snows and the wind and cold did not cut through them nearly as harshly. A land that was much, much warmer than anyone of them could remember being true for their harsh homeland.
They were in a place that held a Wonder.
The river that cut through the center of the lowlands led up into a series of four small, nearly interconnected lakes. The first two were uninteresting, no different than any of the hundreds of other lakes that dotted the region. The third... though. The People had taken to calling it the Crystal Lake. The highest of the four, the one where the waters started to flow east instead of back to the west, was unlike anything the People could recall. It was fairly shallow, between knee and hip deep on a grown man, but it was remarkably clear, almost as if there wasn't even water there.
The water did very much exist and it covered an enormous treasure trove. Huge white, opaque sparkling stones covered the bottom of the lake. They ranged in size from pebbles, to chunks around the size of one of the People. The lake bed was deep enough that even when a group of youths spent days of their idle time digging, they couldn't find where the stones ended.
Each stone glittered, light breaking off into countless little dots of light trapped within the white stone; almost like drifting snow that fell on cold nights. These white stones were extremely difficult to break, so much so that they were nearly impossible to knapp without shattering. When they were made into tools, the edge they held was sharp enough that it could scratch the toughest stone the People could find!
None of that even touched on the beauty of the white stones. It was quite unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Some people had even been caught, lazily staring at the stones, entranced by their senses! They were just thinking of ways to use this new, miracle material, they promised the elders when asked. They were not entranced by it.
A few of the People's keen eyed explorers had even found areas where the Crystal Lake's crystals were different. They were of a colour that none of the People could even name! It was only once one of the elders complained of having to chew a serving of blue berries without any teeth that a comparison was discovered. These new, rare crystals were of a very similar shade to the mashed gruel the elder had asked for.
Whitestone and Berrystone, surely they were a gift from the spirits! A new Wonder to capture the beauty of the amazing land.
As if to echo that sentiment, the spirits sent a child. One that looked very little like one of the People. He had darkened skin, curly hair, and water coloured eyes like some of the People, but his hair's colour betrayed his spirit-touched nature. It was close to the colour of snow, not the typical black.
What did all of this mean, the elders wondered?
When the debates settled, how did the People interpret the patterns in the weather and the discovery of Crystal Lake?
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the People must always be on the move!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the spirits leave great Wonders they want the People to find!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, they wanted to be useful!
[ ] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, they needed beautiful things!
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick
Expand Wolfpacks - Increase the number of tamed wolves that follow the People. Willfully leave out food for them in order to attract more wolves and begin taking their young into the tribe as Hunters.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wanderlust bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Unlocked by Wanderlust) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Venerate Spirits - Offer thanks to the spirits for their gracious bounty!
Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone - The spirits have provided great bounty in the form of Crystal Lake. Attempt to put to use the unusual properties of these unique materials.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wanderlust bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Unlocked by Wanderlust) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Venerate Spirits - Offer thanks to the spirits for their gracious bounty!
Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone - The spirits have provided great bounty in the form of Crystal Lake. Attempt to put to use the unusual properties of these unique materials.
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[ ] [Action] Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone
Do the People move as the years pass by? (Chance of Wanderlust penalty triggering: Extremely Low)
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
Last edited:
3.1 Winterborn
[X] [Value] The spirits have made clear their desire, the spirits leave great Wonders they want the People to find!
[X] [Action] Establish Waystation
[X] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[X] [Go] No
Glory to the Spirits, for they are Good! They give grand Wonders to the People to find, keep and watch over!
Sat on a specklestone outcropping, Alvar gazed slowly down at the cooling corpse of an orker; fire slowly receding from his blood. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to seek out one of the fearsome great beasts. Out of all the people, only the honoured elder Viktor had ever managed to slay one. Before him, that was.
Not was that for lack of trying. It was the dream of every boy to emulate Viktor and slay one of the vicious things on their Trials of Manhood. The prestige and respect that came with such a great victor was literally incomparable. The food alone meant that all of the People could rest and celebrate for days. Women would look on you and close their eyes to all other men. Sometimes even more than one at the same time! If you needed rest, tools, help, a favour, anything; the respect that slaying an orker brought would bring it all. People would fall over themselves in order to be helpful to such a great hunter. The favours you could command would then bring even more willingness to help from others so that they could secure favours the hunter could call in. Even if the respect had been divided amongst a large group of hunters, it would be no small thing.
Of course, provided that was even possible.
Viktor had been very clear; the only reason he had been able to survive at all was because of the Spirit of Wolf that intervened. An intervention that had ended up costing the spirit its life and had led Viktor to be permanently weaker, less than he had been in that finest moment. Given that every hunter that had tried on their own or in groups and failed, with many dying, it was perhaps to be a once only fluke.
Except for now.
It had been almost easy, Alvar thought. He had climbed a tree near where the orkers had been known to roam and waited. Two days and two nights he had been up there, waiting patiently with little food and less water. But, the moment eventually arrived. He brandished his spear, jumped, and slammed it home through the beast's skull. The orker simply dropped, dead. He kicked the body once, then twice, and it didn't so much as twitch.
He had paid attention when Viktor brought out the skull of the orker he'd slain. There was a gap, slightly larger than a fist on top and roughly in the middle. Alvar wasn't sure what the purpose of the gap in the skull was, but it must be needed. Maybe it was to let the blood cool? The orker was normally so hot that its blood must boil.
Still, even as he knew exactly where to strike and how to add force to his blow by falling, it was a risky gamble. To hunt an orker is to tempt the thunder, was a saying Alvar had heard more than a few times from the clan's elders. A warning and dire prediction for hunters that got too big headed. Victory would win a lot, but defeat likely meant death.
Perhaps that was why he did it, Alvar thought in a flash of insight. Victory or Death. One or the other, both would solve his problem.
The eyes of the People had always been on him, judging, waiting. He was Spirit-Touched, Winterborn. From the moment of his birth, he had been marked as different by the shock of white hair that crowned his head. None of the People had ever been born with hair of any other colour than black. Having one born the opposite? It meant something.
Given what the People had received from the spirits, the expectations for him had been crushing. It was obvious that the spirits had chosen him, gifted him to the People, so what was the purpose? Everyone had told him that he would do great things. He would be one of the giants of the tribe, a leader that could help their people succeed in the harsh world. He had risen to meet that expectation, becoming among the youngest hunters to be trusted to commune with the wolves, to deal death to the antlered ones, and, eventually, take on his Trial of Manhood. He had been the swiftest runner of all of the People, strong with fist and foot when he and the other children had gotten together to wrestle. His strength was known and widely appreciated when it came to raising homes for the People.
Everywhere he tried, he could help better than all of the other People, but it was never enough. He was good, but not enough to bring the People something similar in magnitude to the bounty of the land of Crystal Lake. Maybe... maybe this would be enough. It would be a start, at least.
Prying open the orker's mouth, Alvar chipped off a handful of its tusks as proof of his kill. Butchering and dressing the orker by himself would be a waste; he couldn't carry back even a tenth of its meat. As long as the corpse was relatively intact, it would be good to leave for a short while. The wolves had learned that intact corpses were for the People, they would get their offerings after the People had taken their share and so left it alone. Those wolves who didn't had a tendency to be hunted down by the People, or turned on by their own packs.
Crystal Lake had changed significantly, from what Alvar remembered as a child. Instead of a collection of temporary wooden frames covered with woven mats, most of the homes appeared as gentle swells in the earth, like the many hills that surrounded the valley. Each family's house was a simple wooden frame buried in the earth with sod and grass growing over it. Since the houses were 'land' it had quieted some of the objections people had to settling. It was also substantially better insulated, making it more comfortable when the world had died or when it cried.
People had resisted building permanent structures at first, not wanting to be tied to the land. Over time, however, things ended up become more and more solidified. It wasn't so much a conscious process, but one undertaken to make things more convenient. Having to spend days weaving mats of reeds, bark and sticks every few months to replace lost or damaged panels was something no one enjoyed. If anything, that was the primary impetus to actually make something more permanent. Sure, it would take you more time in the short term, but it meant that you had to spend less time making replacement parts.
The fact that they'd settled had also allowed the People to truly thank the spirits, in Alvar's opinion. Every evening as the sun finally set, the Crystal Lake seemed to glow. Brilliant streaks of red, yellow, blue and others danced across the surface and reflected across the Whitestone just beneath it. The amount of colour was more varied and of such an amount that Alvar was shocked that it could exist at all in the entire world.
A massive Whitestone slab, one so large that it had taken all of the People, from lowliest child to grey-bearded elder, to dragx from the Crystal Lake and set on a shallow outcropping, overlooking the water. The people had filled it with sacrifices as thanks; bones and skulls of hunted beasts, food and clothing, tools and weapons, along with dozens of other useful objects. Whenever someone wanted to offer thanks or wish for success, they left something. During the darkest night of the year, in the dead of winter, these sacrifices were collected and then burned to send them to the spirits. The tradition was new amongst the People, but every year the Whitestone slab became fuller and fuller in thanks.
He crested a hill just north of the slab when Alvar stopped in horror. Smoke rose from the way station on the lake shore; far too much to be cook fires or for tool making. Sprinting back, his fears only compounded when he saw some of the People laying on the ground, obviously dead; surrounded by stranger corpses of people he'd never seen before.
Only a few homes had been burned down and the damage from fire had spread little thanks to the People's earthen construction, but the damage... He saw his own home, burned. The one that he shared with his parents, younger brother and sister. Dread welled up from the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't, didn't want to look. If he did, then his family might not be alive. If he didn't look, they still could be.
Recognizing a group of hunters gathered on the outskirts he stopped. "What happened?" Alvar commanded.
"They came from the great river and they brought bows and spears and axes," one of the hunters said. "Another tribe. They cut down anyone that got in their way and grabbed anyone they could. Women. Children. Not many were taken, but some... They dragged them off screaming."
"How did they get so close?" Alvar snapped. "What use were the wolves? Did the hunters not see them coming in?"
"They came from the east, Alvar," a second hunter said. "Aside from the great river, there's nothing there. The wolves have always been thin there. There were fewer of them than us if we were gathered together," he said. "But they came in... hollowed logs floating up the river and moved too swiftly for the few hunters who did spot them. We couldn't run fast enough."
"Speak with your father, Alvar," the first hunter said. "He... he needs you now. He needs his son."
Something about the way he spoke worried Alvar. "My brother?" he whispered.
None of hunters responded.
When the tribe gathered that evening, Alvar did not stand with them. While they argued and bickered and fought, to the point that some had to be physically separated, Alvar was busy. When the talking finally slowed and exhaustion set in, he returned. The boy who became a man wore the skull of an orker over his chest. Stone hard bone had been chipped to widen the gap in the skull enough for his head to fit through. A club of good, hard wood tipped with a Whitestone chunk lay easily at his belt.
Winterborn, the People whispered, who looked upon him and recognized the ice the eyes hidden behind an antlered helm.
Winterborn, he nodded. In vegence for his brother and to rescue his sister; he knew what he was to do for the People. That which the spirits couldn't.
The People have been attacked, raided by an unknown group who came from the north on the great river in large, floating, hollowed out logs. Some are dead and others missing, taken. How do they respond?
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Pay for the return of those who were taken. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Demand compensation and their people be returned. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] War! Send the best of the People's hunters to hunt them.
[ ] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
[ ] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
[ ] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
[X] [Action] Establish Waystation
[X] [Action] Venerate Spirits
[X] [Go] No
Glory to the Spirits, for they are Good! They give grand Wonders to the People to find, keep and watch over!
Wanderlust -> Wonderful World
The spirits have created countless Wonders scattered across the world. Places of incomparable beauty and usefulness for the People to seek and shepard. It is the duty of all to find and safeguard these places.
Pros: Bonus to actions related to movement or exploration, Wonders have increased effect
Cons: Losing control of a Wonder damages Stability
The spirits have created countless Wonders scattered across the world. Places of incomparable beauty and usefulness for the People to seek and shepard. It is the duty of all to find and safeguard these places.
Pros: Bonus to actions related to movement or exploration, Wonders have increased effect
Cons: Losing control of a Wonder damages Stability
Sat on a specklestone outcropping, Alvar gazed slowly down at the cooling corpse of an orker; fire slowly receding from his blood. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to seek out one of the fearsome great beasts. Out of all the people, only the honoured elder Viktor had ever managed to slay one. Before him, that was.
Not was that for lack of trying. It was the dream of every boy to emulate Viktor and slay one of the vicious things on their Trials of Manhood. The prestige and respect that came with such a great victor was literally incomparable. The food alone meant that all of the People could rest and celebrate for days. Women would look on you and close their eyes to all other men. Sometimes even more than one at the same time! If you needed rest, tools, help, a favour, anything; the respect that slaying an orker brought would bring it all. People would fall over themselves in order to be helpful to such a great hunter. The favours you could command would then bring even more willingness to help from others so that they could secure favours the hunter could call in. Even if the respect had been divided amongst a large group of hunters, it would be no small thing.
Of course, provided that was even possible.
Viktor had been very clear; the only reason he had been able to survive at all was because of the Spirit of Wolf that intervened. An intervention that had ended up costing the spirit its life and had led Viktor to be permanently weaker, less than he had been in that finest moment. Given that every hunter that had tried on their own or in groups and failed, with many dying, it was perhaps to be a once only fluke.
Except for now.
It had been almost easy, Alvar thought. He had climbed a tree near where the orkers had been known to roam and waited. Two days and two nights he had been up there, waiting patiently with little food and less water. But, the moment eventually arrived. He brandished his spear, jumped, and slammed it home through the beast's skull. The orker simply dropped, dead. He kicked the body once, then twice, and it didn't so much as twitch.
He had paid attention when Viktor brought out the skull of the orker he'd slain. There was a gap, slightly larger than a fist on top and roughly in the middle. Alvar wasn't sure what the purpose of the gap in the skull was, but it must be needed. Maybe it was to let the blood cool? The orker was normally so hot that its blood must boil.
Still, even as he knew exactly where to strike and how to add force to his blow by falling, it was a risky gamble. To hunt an orker is to tempt the thunder, was a saying Alvar had heard more than a few times from the clan's elders. A warning and dire prediction for hunters that got too big headed. Victory would win a lot, but defeat likely meant death.
Perhaps that was why he did it, Alvar thought in a flash of insight. Victory or Death. One or the other, both would solve his problem.
The eyes of the People had always been on him, judging, waiting. He was Spirit-Touched, Winterborn. From the moment of his birth, he had been marked as different by the shock of white hair that crowned his head. None of the People had ever been born with hair of any other colour than black. Having one born the opposite? It meant something.
Given what the People had received from the spirits, the expectations for him had been crushing. It was obvious that the spirits had chosen him, gifted him to the People, so what was the purpose? Everyone had told him that he would do great things. He would be one of the giants of the tribe, a leader that could help their people succeed in the harsh world. He had risen to meet that expectation, becoming among the youngest hunters to be trusted to commune with the wolves, to deal death to the antlered ones, and, eventually, take on his Trial of Manhood. He had been the swiftest runner of all of the People, strong with fist and foot when he and the other children had gotten together to wrestle. His strength was known and widely appreciated when it came to raising homes for the People.
Everywhere he tried, he could help better than all of the other People, but it was never enough. He was good, but not enough to bring the People something similar in magnitude to the bounty of the land of Crystal Lake. Maybe... maybe this would be enough. It would be a start, at least.
Prying open the orker's mouth, Alvar chipped off a handful of its tusks as proof of his kill. Butchering and dressing the orker by himself would be a waste; he couldn't carry back even a tenth of its meat. As long as the corpse was relatively intact, it would be good to leave for a short while. The wolves had learned that intact corpses were for the People, they would get their offerings after the People had taken their share and so left it alone. Those wolves who didn't had a tendency to be hunted down by the People, or turned on by their own packs.
Crystal Lake had changed significantly, from what Alvar remembered as a child. Instead of a collection of temporary wooden frames covered with woven mats, most of the homes appeared as gentle swells in the earth, like the many hills that surrounded the valley. Each family's house was a simple wooden frame buried in the earth with sod and grass growing over it. Since the houses were 'land' it had quieted some of the objections people had to settling. It was also substantially better insulated, making it more comfortable when the world had died or when it cried.
People had resisted building permanent structures at first, not wanting to be tied to the land. Over time, however, things ended up become more and more solidified. It wasn't so much a conscious process, but one undertaken to make things more convenient. Having to spend days weaving mats of reeds, bark and sticks every few months to replace lost or damaged panels was something no one enjoyed. If anything, that was the primary impetus to actually make something more permanent. Sure, it would take you more time in the short term, but it meant that you had to spend less time making replacement parts.
The fact that they'd settled had also allowed the People to truly thank the spirits, in Alvar's opinion. Every evening as the sun finally set, the Crystal Lake seemed to glow. Brilliant streaks of red, yellow, blue and others danced across the surface and reflected across the Whitestone just beneath it. The amount of colour was more varied and of such an amount that Alvar was shocked that it could exist at all in the entire world.
A massive Whitestone slab, one so large that it had taken all of the People, from lowliest child to grey-bearded elder, to dragx from the Crystal Lake and set on a shallow outcropping, overlooking the water. The people had filled it with sacrifices as thanks; bones and skulls of hunted beasts, food and clothing, tools and weapons, along with dozens of other useful objects. Whenever someone wanted to offer thanks or wish for success, they left something. During the darkest night of the year, in the dead of winter, these sacrifices were collected and then burned to send them to the spirits. The tradition was new amongst the People, but every year the Whitestone slab became fuller and fuller in thanks.
He crested a hill just north of the slab when Alvar stopped in horror. Smoke rose from the way station on the lake shore; far too much to be cook fires or for tool making. Sprinting back, his fears only compounded when he saw some of the People laying on the ground, obviously dead; surrounded by stranger corpses of people he'd never seen before.
Only a few homes had been burned down and the damage from fire had spread little thanks to the People's earthen construction, but the damage... He saw his own home, burned. The one that he shared with his parents, younger brother and sister. Dread welled up from the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't, didn't want to look. If he did, then his family might not be alive. If he didn't look, they still could be.
Recognizing a group of hunters gathered on the outskirts he stopped. "What happened?" Alvar commanded.
"They came from the great river and they brought bows and spears and axes," one of the hunters said. "Another tribe. They cut down anyone that got in their way and grabbed anyone they could. Women. Children. Not many were taken, but some... They dragged them off screaming."
"How did they get so close?" Alvar snapped. "What use were the wolves? Did the hunters not see them coming in?"
"They came from the east, Alvar," a second hunter said. "Aside from the great river, there's nothing there. The wolves have always been thin there. There were fewer of them than us if we were gathered together," he said. "But they came in... hollowed logs floating up the river and moved too swiftly for the few hunters who did spot them. We couldn't run fast enough."
"Speak with your father, Alvar," the first hunter said. "He... he needs you now. He needs his son."
Something about the way he spoke worried Alvar. "My brother?" he whispered.
None of hunters responded.
When the tribe gathered that evening, Alvar did not stand with them. While they argued and bickered and fought, to the point that some had to be physically separated, Alvar was busy. When the talking finally slowed and exhaustion set in, he returned. The boy who became a man wore the skull of an orker over his chest. Stone hard bone had been chipped to widen the gap in the skull enough for his head to fit through. A club of good, hard wood tipped with a Whitestone chunk lay easily at his belt.
Winterborn, the People whispered, who looked upon him and recognized the ice the eyes hidden behind an antlered helm.
Winterborn, he nodded. In vegence for his brother and to rescue his sister; he knew what he was to do for the People. That which the spirits couldn't.
The People have been attacked, raided by an unknown group who came from the north on the great river in large, floating, hollowed out logs. Some are dead and others missing, taken. How do they respond?
[ ] Treat with the raiders. Demand compensation and their people be returned. Vetoed by Martial Hero
[ ] War! Send the best of the People's hunters to hunt them.
[ ] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
[ ] War! Arm every member of the People and claim vengeance!
[ ] War! Whip the wolves into a frenzy with blood. Set them on the raiders (Unlocked by previous choices)
4.0 Creak Bed Battle
[X] War! Send all of the People's hunters.
Tempers had flared hot the night after the raiders came. Accusations were thrown around freely and carelessly. The amount of damage done was limited, but everyone had lost a sister, a cousin, or a brother. The People were one family, even if some family was more family. Each person lost to spears and arrows or taken into the night was painfully felt. More than a few of the People had to be pulled apart and physically separated in order to prevent violence from breaking out.
Alvar felt ashamed, but he was one of those voices. It was he that had suggested plying the wolves with meat and blood, working them up until they chased the People and feasted on the corpses of their enemies. His mind had instantly jumped to the risks, but he didn't care. His younger brother was dead; not even old enough to count his age on more than two hands and his skull had been crushed under a club. His sister was gone, torn screaming from their home and taken.
Even thinking about it now made his skin burn. Hot enough that even diving in the Crystal Lake had barely been a momentary shock.
Regardless, the Elders had quickly spoken up and shown everyone how foolish they were being. The wolves might acquire a taste for human blood, they'd argued. They could be lost on the journey north, after all, none among the People knew where the raiders had originated from. The hostages that had been taken by the raiders could easily be savaged by mistake.
Still, the bloodthirsty suggestion had elevated Alvar in everyone's eyes. It had been foolishness, but a type of foolishness that the tribe now appreciated. Something they needed in the moment. Alvar knew that he was no great speaker, not someone who could turn others to his cause with but a few words. As a speaker, he was painfully average. Not good, but definitely not one to embarrass himself in front of the People. But, he knew that the moment was on him. It was like in a hunt when the animal had drawn so close it was about to sense you. That was the moment to strike, to hesitate and it would be gone.
"We should go," Alvar said. "All of us. The hunters. Right now, the raiders think they've bloodied us. They're going to go back, rest and recover. Once they've done that, they will be back since they will think us weak. They will raid us again and again, taking more plunder and more captives. Everyone knows that you not leave a wounded beast be. That is when they're at their most dangerous."
"Wounded beasts also sicken and die, boy," a middle-aged hunter cut in. "They bleed to death. We will not. Who are you to presume to lecture us? To lecture the Elders?"
Pulling off his antlered helm, Alvar stepped up to the hunter. The man was bigger than him, fully grown compared to Alvar's own teenage height. He focused on the man's jaw, before winding up and smashing skulls together. The older hunter dropped, and Alvar grinned, easily ignoring the pain radiating through his skull.
"Anyone else?" he called. "It's the duty of everyone capable to defend the People. Everyone has the privileged."
Value Gained!
Hearing a grunt from the hunter, Alvar spun, drew his club and slammed it into the oncoming knife. A quick jab with the Whitestone head of the club silenced any further protests. "Pack your bags," Alvar ordered. "Bring extra food, one—no, two weeks. We'll need to bring food for the People we bring back. Bring pots for water. We leave at first light.
His heart hammered as Alvar quietly walked away. There was nothing more he could've said in that moment. The next day, when all of the men, every one who'd undergone their Trials, except for the Elders showed up, he relaxed. He could do this.
The hunting party of the People cut to the north, but did not cleave closely to the river. Alvar knew, the raiders would keep watch, at least for the first few days. This did not have the feel of something that they had tried only once. When you struck a herd, every hunter knew to be careful. A downed creature could easily have a friend to strike you in an inopportune moment.
It was two days before the first spotted the raiders, retreating north in their strange hollowed logs. It was only the fact that they were going north, struggling against the current that allowed the People to catch them. The raiders were still vigilant, though, so Alvar restrained the hunters and let them go further north. The river was too wide to hit them immediately. Too far for someone to shoot a bow across and all it would take for the raiders to win would be to make it to the opposite bank. They could set up with their bows and arrows and there would be nothing the People could do. Swimming across would just get them shot helplessly to pieces.
He'd had to... enforce discipline a few times before the opportunity presented itself. On the evening of the 4th day, the raiders had settled down on a forrested island in the middle of the river. It was a defensible point and they clearly knew it. And that made them overconfident. They had stopped for the evening and set up enormous bonfires. The captives were sent to cook while the raiders partied, feasting on stolen food and cheerfully shoved stolen women around between them. Young, low status males were forced to the outside of the group, obviously on watch; forced to wistfully watch the 'festivities'.
It destroyed their night vision, though, and that was all the opening Alvar needed.
"We swim over there in groups," Alvar ordered. "Some to the north, some to the south. Be quiet. After we've all moved, loose arrows. Three men to a target since we outnumber them. Aim for the ones outside, and when the catch on, charge."
Every child of the People knew how, growing up playing in the Crystal Lake, but never before had they swam with death watching. They were all hunters too, the raiders didn't even notice that death stalked them. Arrows knocked, Alvar watched as his men loosed once, then twice. Men dropped dead, riddled with arrows on the first two volleys. The third clued the raiders in, cries went out and weapons were drawn.
Alvar let one last arrow slam home into a raider's eye, before he charged. "Blood! Blood!" he howled. The first man to come against him carried one of the raider's strange, slim two-handed long clubs. He swung wildly, obviously expecting it to smash bone. Alvar just let it come and bounce off the orker skull on his chest. The long club recoiled and the raider winced. Winterborn's club slammed into his head, bursting it like a ripe grape, and ending any discomfort that caused.
Running up behind another, the Winterborn easily slammed home his knife into the base of the raider's skull. He knew he found the third raider when a club slammed into the back of his head, and sent Alvar tumbling down. His antlered helm cracked, but it kept his brains in his skull. His club whipped wildly around and found the man's knee, sending him down with a crack and a scream. A second blow to the chest just made him scream harder. Alvar kept smashing, but it was only once he'd crawled within reach of the raider's head that he finally stopped.
Grabbing a fallen spear, the Winterborn centered himself, trying to find any more knots of resistance.
There were none. All of the remaining raiders were in flight, diving into the river swimming to try and get away. Many he saw on the ground, most dead, but a few only injured. Some of his men lay dead too, but far, far fewer than he feared. A few of the captives were dead too, but fewer even than his hunters. They had run in the fighting and the raiders were too busy figuring out what was going on to slay them. The entire engagement had take only moments.
"Alvar!" his sister shouted, pulling him into a hug. Blood and filth clung to her, but all Alvar could do was smile.
Than smile turned icy when he looked at the retreating raiders.
Alvar shouts:
[ ] [Raiders] "Pick up your bows! Draw and Loose!" Leave none alive.
[ ] [Raiders] "Let them run." Kill no more.
Greeted as a Hero on his return, what lessons did Alvar take from leading the People in battle?
[ ] [Hero] Focus on the Defense (Build Ramparts)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Detection (Expand Wolfpacks)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Martial Skill (Promote Folk Wrestling)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Increased Population (Increase Hunting)
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick 1)
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Found Holy Site
-[ ] Creek Bed Battle
[ ] [Action] Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone
[ ] [Action] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe
[ ] Promote Folk Wrestling
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] South (Too Dangerous)
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
Tempers had flared hot the night after the raiders came. Accusations were thrown around freely and carelessly. The amount of damage done was limited, but everyone had lost a sister, a cousin, or a brother. The People were one family, even if some family was more family. Each person lost to spears and arrows or taken into the night was painfully felt. More than a few of the People had to be pulled apart and physically separated in order to prevent violence from breaking out.
Alvar felt ashamed, but he was one of those voices. It was he that had suggested plying the wolves with meat and blood, working them up until they chased the People and feasted on the corpses of their enemies. His mind had instantly jumped to the risks, but he didn't care. His younger brother was dead; not even old enough to count his age on more than two hands and his skull had been crushed under a club. His sister was gone, torn screaming from their home and taken.
Even thinking about it now made his skin burn. Hot enough that even diving in the Crystal Lake had barely been a momentary shock.
Regardless, the Elders had quickly spoken up and shown everyone how foolish they were being. The wolves might acquire a taste for human blood, they'd argued. They could be lost on the journey north, after all, none among the People knew where the raiders had originated from. The hostages that had been taken by the raiders could easily be savaged by mistake.
Still, the bloodthirsty suggestion had elevated Alvar in everyone's eyes. It had been foolishness, but a type of foolishness that the tribe now appreciated. Something they needed in the moment. Alvar knew that he was no great speaker, not someone who could turn others to his cause with but a few words. As a speaker, he was painfully average. Not good, but definitely not one to embarrass himself in front of the People. But, he knew that the moment was on him. It was like in a hunt when the animal had drawn so close it was about to sense you. That was the moment to strike, to hesitate and it would be gone.
"We should go," Alvar said. "All of us. The hunters. Right now, the raiders think they've bloodied us. They're going to go back, rest and recover. Once they've done that, they will be back since they will think us weak. They will raid us again and again, taking more plunder and more captives. Everyone knows that you not leave a wounded beast be. That is when they're at their most dangerous."
"Wounded beasts also sicken and die, boy," a middle-aged hunter cut in. "They bleed to death. We will not. Who are you to presume to lecture us? To lecture the Elders?"
Pulling off his antlered helm, Alvar stepped up to the hunter. The man was bigger than him, fully grown compared to Alvar's own teenage height. He focused on the man's jaw, before winding up and smashing skulls together. The older hunter dropped, and Alvar grinned, easily ignoring the pain radiating through his skull.
"Anyone else?" he called. "It's the duty of everyone capable to defend the People. Everyone has the privileged."
Value Gained!
Bellicose Bearing
It is the nature of the People to fight. All are expected to rise in defense of the People. The skills learnt fighting as children are ones worth remembering as adults. Perhaps especially as adults; children fight with the stakes are low. Adults must do so when the stakes are high.
Pros: General population has increased martial skill
Cons: Martial inclination becomes desirable
It is the nature of the People to fight. All are expected to rise in defense of the People. The skills learnt fighting as children are ones worth remembering as adults. Perhaps especially as adults; children fight with the stakes are low. Adults must do so when the stakes are high.
Pros: General population has increased martial skill
Cons: Martial inclination becomes desirable
Hearing a grunt from the hunter, Alvar spun, drew his club and slammed it into the oncoming knife. A quick jab with the Whitestone head of the club silenced any further protests. "Pack your bags," Alvar ordered. "Bring extra food, one—no, two weeks. We'll need to bring food for the People we bring back. Bring pots for water. We leave at first light.
His heart hammered as Alvar quietly walked away. There was nothing more he could've said in that moment. The next day, when all of the men, every one who'd undergone their Trials, except for the Elders showed up, he relaxed. He could do this.
The hunting party of the People cut to the north, but did not cleave closely to the river. Alvar knew, the raiders would keep watch, at least for the first few days. This did not have the feel of something that they had tried only once. When you struck a herd, every hunter knew to be careful. A downed creature could easily have a friend to strike you in an inopportune moment.
It was two days before the first spotted the raiders, retreating north in their strange hollowed logs. It was only the fact that they were going north, struggling against the current that allowed the People to catch them. The raiders were still vigilant, though, so Alvar restrained the hunters and let them go further north. The river was too wide to hit them immediately. Too far for someone to shoot a bow across and all it would take for the raiders to win would be to make it to the opposite bank. They could set up with their bows and arrows and there would be nothing the People could do. Swimming across would just get them shot helplessly to pieces.
He'd had to... enforce discipline a few times before the opportunity presented itself. On the evening of the 4th day, the raiders had settled down on a forrested island in the middle of the river. It was a defensible point and they clearly knew it. And that made them overconfident. They had stopped for the evening and set up enormous bonfires. The captives were sent to cook while the raiders partied, feasting on stolen food and cheerfully shoved stolen women around between them. Young, low status males were forced to the outside of the group, obviously on watch; forced to wistfully watch the 'festivities'.
It destroyed their night vision, though, and that was all the opening Alvar needed.
"We swim over there in groups," Alvar ordered. "Some to the north, some to the south. Be quiet. After we've all moved, loose arrows. Three men to a target since we outnumber them. Aim for the ones outside, and when the catch on, charge."
Every child of the People knew how, growing up playing in the Crystal Lake, but never before had they swam with death watching. They were all hunters too, the raiders didn't even notice that death stalked them. Arrows knocked, Alvar watched as his men loosed once, then twice. Men dropped dead, riddled with arrows on the first two volleys. The third clued the raiders in, cries went out and weapons were drawn.
Alvar let one last arrow slam home into a raider's eye, before he charged. "Blood! Blood!" he howled. The first man to come against him carried one of the raider's strange, slim two-handed long clubs. He swung wildly, obviously expecting it to smash bone. Alvar just let it come and bounce off the orker skull on his chest. The long club recoiled and the raider winced. Winterborn's club slammed into his head, bursting it like a ripe grape, and ending any discomfort that caused.
Running up behind another, the Winterborn easily slammed home his knife into the base of the raider's skull. He knew he found the third raider when a club slammed into the back of his head, and sent Alvar tumbling down. His antlered helm cracked, but it kept his brains in his skull. His club whipped wildly around and found the man's knee, sending him down with a crack and a scream. A second blow to the chest just made him scream harder. Alvar kept smashing, but it was only once he'd crawled within reach of the raider's head that he finally stopped.
Grabbing a fallen spear, the Winterborn centered himself, trying to find any more knots of resistance.
There were none. All of the remaining raiders were in flight, diving into the river swimming to try and get away. Many he saw on the ground, most dead, but a few only injured. Some of his men lay dead too, but far, far fewer than he feared. A few of the captives were dead too, but fewer even than his hunters. They had run in the fighting and the raiders were too busy figuring out what was going on to slay them. The entire engagement had take only moments.
"Alvar!" his sister shouted, pulling him into a hug. Blood and filth clung to her, but all Alvar could do was smile.
Than smile turned icy when he looked at the retreating raiders.
Alvar shouts:
[ ] [Raiders] "Pick up your bows! Draw and Loose!" Leave none alive.
[ ] [Raiders] "Let them run." Kill no more.
Greeted as a Hero on his return, what lessons did Alvar take from leading the People in battle?
[ ] [Hero] Focus on the Defense (Build Ramparts)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Detection (Expand Wolfpacks)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Martial Skill (Promote Folk Wrestling)
[ ] [Hero] Focus on Increased Population (Increase Hunting)
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick 1)
Expand Wolfpacks - Increase the number of tamed wolves that follow the People. Willfully leave out food for them in order to attract more wolves and begin taking their young into the tribe as Hunters.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wonderful World bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Wonderful World bonus) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Found Holy Site (Unlocked by combination of Establish Waystation and Venerate Spirits) - Create a small shrine in honour of the spirits. Can be placed at places of geographical or cultural signifiance. (Creek Bed Battle Site)
-Location?
Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone - The spirits have provided great bounty in the form of Crystal Lake. Attempt to put to use the unusual properties of these unique materials.
Promote Folk Wrestling (Increased by Bellicose Bearing) - Children fight as children will, wrestling and playing in order to learn the basics of violence and hunting. This is normally discouraged as they age by the Elders so that they can focus on necessary violence, but perhaps they should act to promote it instead? Encourage people to maintain the skill at violence against people that they acquired as children.
Raid (Unlocked by past decisions) - The People have turned their hunting of beasts into the hunting of humans. Strike down those who stand in your way and collect the rewards.
-Target?
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wonderful World bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Wonderful World bonus) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation (Penalized by Wanderlust) - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Found Holy Site (Unlocked by combination of Establish Waystation and Venerate Spirits) - Create a small shrine in honour of the spirits. Can be placed at places of geographical or cultural signifiance. (Creek Bed Battle Site)
-Location?
Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone - The spirits have provided great bounty in the form of Crystal Lake. Attempt to put to use the unusual properties of these unique materials.
Promote Folk Wrestling (Increased by Bellicose Bearing) - Children fight as children will, wrestling and playing in order to learn the basics of violence and hunting. This is normally discouraged as they age by the Elders so that they can focus on necessary violence, but perhaps they should act to promote it instead? Encourage people to maintain the skill at violence against people that they acquired as children.
Raid (Unlocked by past decisions) - The People have turned their hunting of beasts into the hunting of humans. Strike down those who stand in your way and collect the rewards.
-Target?
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Found Holy Site
-[ ] Creek Bed Battle
[ ] [Action] Investigate Whitestone and Berrystone
[ ] [Action] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe
[ ] Promote Folk Wrestling
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] West
[ ] [Go] East
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
Last edited:
4.1 Expedition East
[x] [Raiders] "Pick up your bows! Draw and Loose!" Leave none alive.
[x] [Hero] Focus on Detection (Expand Wolfpacks)
[x] [Action] Study Travel
[x] [Go] East
Alvar didn't have foggiest idea why, but the spirits had grown displeased with the People. The winters were harsher, longer than anyone could recall. There were stories from the elders that the elders of their youth had experienced such a harsh world, but they were only stories. The elders of that time were long dead now and none can ask for their wisdom on what had previously given the People such bounty.
Privately, Alvar had wondered, but never voiced if the spirits' displeasure was related to the massacre of the raiders as they fled. Nearly all of those who fled had been shot, either dying instantly or falling into the river to drown. Only a few had survived, and the People never heard from the North Lake people again after that day. The corpses had been swept away, but the bloated husks seemed to have dogged the People all the way back to the river branch by Crystal Lake.
Had the spirits been angered by the dead being swept to the spiritual lands in the east?
That thought had chewed at Alvar for a long time. Was his momentary desire for vengeance something that had damned the People? In the end, he decided that no, it wouldn't. In the years after the Creek Bed Battle, he had lent his voice to every initiative that would increase the People's hunting. Hunting was how they got their food. It was built on fighting, on violence, so he would try to fight the spirits.
The main flaw, he believed, that allowed the raiders to attack them was the lack of People ready to stand against them. Most of the People's hunters had been scattered throughout their valley, working in small groups, to bring home needed food. If they had found the raiders before they had entered the People's camp, the attack would not have happened.
Alvar had left the People then, for a time, in order to live among the wolves that rimmed their valley. The raiders had moved faster than the People were capable of in their hollowed logs. It didn't matter that there were many more of the People than there were raiders in total, if they could strike where there were fewer. It was almost like wolves when they attacked a herd and separated out the weak and the young. If the herd turned as one and fought back, the wolves would be crushed.
Cowardice wasn't the People's problem like it was for the antlered ones, though, Alvar reasoned, it was coordination. The antler folk could move in massive herd, traverse distances that the People could scarcely imagine and do it all without uttering a single word. To get the People to move took days of effort and countless hours talking, cajoling, and convincing.
Regardless, the People had an advantage that the antlered ones did not: the wolves. They howled when strangers approached, offering warning to the People. They just needed to figure out how to make the screen denser and more responsive.
In the end, the solution was simple. Someone need to live amongst the wolves, immerse themselves in their spirit and learn their language. The howls was little like the speech of the People, but it clearly meant something.
The People must have thought him mad as the years passed. Most of his time was spent up in the wilds and hills around the valley holding Crystal Lake. Only rarely did he come in to exchange a few kills for flint, wood, or other tools. Despite all the attempts to keep him close, from arguments of the elders to enticements from women, he continued in his self-appointed task.
He couldn't stop. The memory of his brother's corpse, the screams of the raiders as they were mercilessly cut down, they remained. To leave them vulnerable to another group of raiders would be akin to betrayal.
It took time for the wolves to get used to him, and he had to ply them with food more than once, but slowly they adopted him into their families. Wolves always organized themselves into small groups, families. The oldest to wolves would breed while their children stayed with them. After two or three years, those same children would separate from their birth family and seek out a mate of their own. Those newly mated pairs would then go on to carve out their own territory.
It was an elegant system. One that was immensely surprising when Alvar saw himself get caught up in it! He'd been feeding the wolves one morning only notice that there were more than a dozen of them and they barely snapped at each other! He'd always been quick to feed any wolves that came by his campsite. He'd hoped to encourage their numbers and get them to form permanent packs around the valley. Instead, they'd simply been following him!
No closer was he to understanding the howls of wolves, but he was able to understand their body language. Whenever another pack howled to announce a kill, his wolves' ears would perk in that direction. When the howled for strangers, their ears seemed to snap back.
It was enough that Alvar took his success back to the People. The panic that had greeted him when a small army of wolves walked back into camp at his command still made him smile. It had taken more years and more generations of wolves, but ever so slowly did they bond with the tribe's hunters. They would only work with people who had raised the wolf from near-birth, they still snapped occasionally, and fought with each other, but they could live amongst the People.
The benefits to the People's hunts were immediate. Wolves could easily run down smaller fare like glimmerbirds, orange wolves, or rodents, but they were also invaluable in taking down antler beasts. Wolves could easily separate specific targets and chase them easily into the People's waiting spears and arrows.
It took more kills to feed all of the new tame wolves, but it still allowed the People to make more kills than it cost. The risks also went down immensely. Wolves could easily separate a herd, but no longer would they be forced to go in for a kill. The People's arrows could do that. The People also no longer had to chase down a herd. The wolves could out pace and trap their quarry before they got away.
The Spirit of Man and of Wolf seemed to be made to work together.
Still, even as their ability to obtain food increased, it didn't swell the People's numbers as much as Alvar had thought it might. The weather just didn't seem to cooperate. When he was a child and young man, it seemed to actively help the People where it was now indifferent. And it continued to get worse, little by little. Something needed to be done.
In the end, Alvar managed to convince the People to move east. The raiders he'd ordered killed during their retreat stayed in his mind. They had been killed, hunted perhaps, but it felt different. A different word, because it was a different type of killing. Not hunting, not slaying... murder, he thought. An old word meaning 'to make dead'. It sounded ominous enough for a potential offense against the spirits.
They needed to go east, find the bodies on the raiders and bury them properly in accordance with the spirits' wishes.
The People had quickly agreed with Alvar's reasoning and set into preparing for the journey with gusto. A few of the raiders' hollowed logs were captured in the Creek Bed Battle and were quickly turned into templates to build more. It took a while to figure out exactly how to manage to correctly burn out the insides of the log without leaving it brittle, but they managed it quickly.
Even in just the preliminary stages of the People's move, they paid for themselves many times over. Children and the elderly could be easily carried in them, reasonable quantities of Whitestone and Berrystone could be brought, food and pots could be easily stored within them. Even when they came to a rapid that stopped them from progressing down the river, it was easy to get out and carry them along the shore.
Distance simply disappeared. Alvar knew that it wouldn't be nearly so easy once they had to go the other way and fight against the river carrying them downwards, but all of the People easily moved at a rate that would take a strong hunter running non-stop.
Half a moon's turn into their journey, the People finally came to a stop. An encampment had been cut into the forest along a bend in the river, one slightly larger than Crystal Lake had been. Hollowed logs swarmed out, bearing men and weapons. The meeting was tense and involved a lot of shouting. The words the other men spoke made little sense to Alvar. Their tongue was much more familiar than those of the North Lake raiders, but still strange.
Everything about this new tribe was strange. Their fingers plucked uneasily, perhaps unfamiliarity at their bowstrings but they seemed to move in their hollowed logs like it was second nature. They were also short and even slightly fat to Alvar's eye. Some of them had the water colour eyes of the People, but most of them were dark of hair and eye. None of them had anything similar to his ice-white hair.
Perhaps the only thing that prevented violence that day was a young woman paddling wildly to get her hollowed log in between the People and her own tribe. She shouted, shamed, cajoled, and all Alvar could think was that he ended up nodding his head in shame by the end of it. The People had obviously come to trade, she said, they weren't part of the 'Five Fingers', they couldn't be. The Fingers were to the east and the People came from the west.
After he finally comprehended what she said, he'd had a hollowed log pulled up that had been stuffed with Whitestone and Berrystone. The other tribe had been seriously impressed at the collection of glowing stones and slowly relaxed their guard, fingers coming off of tense bowstrings. The fact that the log also contained a woman and child was probably what convinced them fully, however. No one would bring woman-and-child on a raid.
Instead, the other tribe's speaker finally managed to browbeat her side into putting away their weapons and having the People put away theirs. They had everyone brought into the encampment and an impromptu feast set up. It seemed a bit unwise to Alvar, a huge risk to bring new people into the heart of your camp, but the Speaker seemed to be unable to take no for an answer.
"A gift," she promised in the language her tribe used. A broken and bastardized version of the People's own. Only one word in five was comprehensible, but it was enough if you were slow and took your time. "You shiny, we feed."
The only hick up was when they brought out the food. Instead of good meat, they offered strange dark black grains served in bowls. They were boiled until soft and then served with plants or strips of meat to go on top. It all tasted strange on Alvar's tongue, but the Speaker happily ate the meal. It wasn't foul of sickness inducing, then.
"What?" he asked, gesturing to the grains.
"Ah, water-grass," the Speaker responded. She gestured out to a series of long grasses that grew all up and down the river banks. She then pointed to a hollowed log and mimed holding the grass and then striking it. Apparently the black grains were what came off the tops of the plant. "Yummy!"
Eating slowly while his People and the Speaker's tribe ate, danced, and made merry (food always brought out celebration), Alvar chewed on the question that really bothered him, Why? Other tribes were boon and bane both, as he had learned from the raiders. Why trust all of the People when others could easily steal or kill?
On the other side of the fire, a young hunter puffed himself, obviously to show off. He grappled with one of the Speaker's tribesman and easily heaved him into the dirt. The tribesman's friends looked on and guffawed before stepping up to try their own luck. The hunter preened under the attention the young women were given and the tribesmen did not want to be shown up. The young hunter took two more challengers, but lost to the third, laughing when he ended up bouncing along the ground.
Then again, Alvar thought, peace might not be so bad.
"Not Five Fingers," the Speaker seemed to say in response to Alvar's unconscious thought. She spoke a few more words that Alvar couldn't understand beyond a few references to 'river' and 'beyond'. "Friend? Stay?" she asked.
How do the People react on meeting the River-Bend Tribe?
[ ] Set up a more permanent camp, friends!
[ ] Temporarily move in, neighbors!
[ ] Return to the Crystal Lake, fun times!
[ ] That's a mighty fine village you have there, attack! (Negated by River-Bend Diplomacy Hero!)
[x] [Hero] Focus on Detection (Expand Wolfpacks)
[x] [Action] Study Travel
[x] [Go] East
Alvar didn't have foggiest idea why, but the spirits had grown displeased with the People. The winters were harsher, longer than anyone could recall. There were stories from the elders that the elders of their youth had experienced such a harsh world, but they were only stories. The elders of that time were long dead now and none can ask for their wisdom on what had previously given the People such bounty.
Privately, Alvar had wondered, but never voiced if the spirits' displeasure was related to the massacre of the raiders as they fled. Nearly all of those who fled had been shot, either dying instantly or falling into the river to drown. Only a few had survived, and the People never heard from the North Lake people again after that day. The corpses had been swept away, but the bloated husks seemed to have dogged the People all the way back to the river branch by Crystal Lake.
Had the spirits been angered by the dead being swept to the spiritual lands in the east?
That thought had chewed at Alvar for a long time. Was his momentary desire for vengeance something that had damned the People? In the end, he decided that no, it wouldn't. In the years after the Creek Bed Battle, he had lent his voice to every initiative that would increase the People's hunting. Hunting was how they got their food. It was built on fighting, on violence, so he would try to fight the spirits.
The main flaw, he believed, that allowed the raiders to attack them was the lack of People ready to stand against them. Most of the People's hunters had been scattered throughout their valley, working in small groups, to bring home needed food. If they had found the raiders before they had entered the People's camp, the attack would not have happened.
Alvar had left the People then, for a time, in order to live among the wolves that rimmed their valley. The raiders had moved faster than the People were capable of in their hollowed logs. It didn't matter that there were many more of the People than there were raiders in total, if they could strike where there were fewer. It was almost like wolves when they attacked a herd and separated out the weak and the young. If the herd turned as one and fought back, the wolves would be crushed.
Cowardice wasn't the People's problem like it was for the antlered ones, though, Alvar reasoned, it was coordination. The antler folk could move in massive herd, traverse distances that the People could scarcely imagine and do it all without uttering a single word. To get the People to move took days of effort and countless hours talking, cajoling, and convincing.
Regardless, the People had an advantage that the antlered ones did not: the wolves. They howled when strangers approached, offering warning to the People. They just needed to figure out how to make the screen denser and more responsive.
In the end, the solution was simple. Someone need to live amongst the wolves, immerse themselves in their spirit and learn their language. The howls was little like the speech of the People, but it clearly meant something.
The People must have thought him mad as the years passed. Most of his time was spent up in the wilds and hills around the valley holding Crystal Lake. Only rarely did he come in to exchange a few kills for flint, wood, or other tools. Despite all the attempts to keep him close, from arguments of the elders to enticements from women, he continued in his self-appointed task.
He couldn't stop. The memory of his brother's corpse, the screams of the raiders as they were mercilessly cut down, they remained. To leave them vulnerable to another group of raiders would be akin to betrayal.
It took time for the wolves to get used to him, and he had to ply them with food more than once, but slowly they adopted him into their families. Wolves always organized themselves into small groups, families. The oldest to wolves would breed while their children stayed with them. After two or three years, those same children would separate from their birth family and seek out a mate of their own. Those newly mated pairs would then go on to carve out their own territory.
It was an elegant system. One that was immensely surprising when Alvar saw himself get caught up in it! He'd been feeding the wolves one morning only notice that there were more than a dozen of them and they barely snapped at each other! He'd always been quick to feed any wolves that came by his campsite. He'd hoped to encourage their numbers and get them to form permanent packs around the valley. Instead, they'd simply been following him!
No closer was he to understanding the howls of wolves, but he was able to understand their body language. Whenever another pack howled to announce a kill, his wolves' ears would perk in that direction. When the howled for strangers, their ears seemed to snap back.
It was enough that Alvar took his success back to the People. The panic that had greeted him when a small army of wolves walked back into camp at his command still made him smile. It had taken more years and more generations of wolves, but ever so slowly did they bond with the tribe's hunters. They would only work with people who had raised the wolf from near-birth, they still snapped occasionally, and fought with each other, but they could live amongst the People.
The benefits to the People's hunts were immediate. Wolves could easily run down smaller fare like glimmerbirds, orange wolves, or rodents, but they were also invaluable in taking down antler beasts. Wolves could easily separate specific targets and chase them easily into the People's waiting spears and arrows.
It took more kills to feed all of the new tame wolves, but it still allowed the People to make more kills than it cost. The risks also went down immensely. Wolves could easily separate a herd, but no longer would they be forced to go in for a kill. The People's arrows could do that. The People also no longer had to chase down a herd. The wolves could out pace and trap their quarry before they got away.
The Spirit of Man and of Wolf seemed to be made to work together.
Still, even as their ability to obtain food increased, it didn't swell the People's numbers as much as Alvar had thought it might. The weather just didn't seem to cooperate. When he was a child and young man, it seemed to actively help the People where it was now indifferent. And it continued to get worse, little by little. Something needed to be done.
In the end, Alvar managed to convince the People to move east. The raiders he'd ordered killed during their retreat stayed in his mind. They had been killed, hunted perhaps, but it felt different. A different word, because it was a different type of killing. Not hunting, not slaying... murder, he thought. An old word meaning 'to make dead'. It sounded ominous enough for a potential offense against the spirits.
They needed to go east, find the bodies on the raiders and bury them properly in accordance with the spirits' wishes.
The People had quickly agreed with Alvar's reasoning and set into preparing for the journey with gusto. A few of the raiders' hollowed logs were captured in the Creek Bed Battle and were quickly turned into templates to build more. It took a while to figure out exactly how to manage to correctly burn out the insides of the log without leaving it brittle, but they managed it quickly.
Even in just the preliminary stages of the People's move, they paid for themselves many times over. Children and the elderly could be easily carried in them, reasonable quantities of Whitestone and Berrystone could be brought, food and pots could be easily stored within them. Even when they came to a rapid that stopped them from progressing down the river, it was easy to get out and carry them along the shore.
Distance simply disappeared. Alvar knew that it wouldn't be nearly so easy once they had to go the other way and fight against the river carrying them downwards, but all of the People easily moved at a rate that would take a strong hunter running non-stop.
Half a moon's turn into their journey, the People finally came to a stop. An encampment had been cut into the forest along a bend in the river, one slightly larger than Crystal Lake had been. Hollowed logs swarmed out, bearing men and weapons. The meeting was tense and involved a lot of shouting. The words the other men spoke made little sense to Alvar. Their tongue was much more familiar than those of the North Lake raiders, but still strange.
Everything about this new tribe was strange. Their fingers plucked uneasily, perhaps unfamiliarity at their bowstrings but they seemed to move in their hollowed logs like it was second nature. They were also short and even slightly fat to Alvar's eye. Some of them had the water colour eyes of the People, but most of them were dark of hair and eye. None of them had anything similar to his ice-white hair.
Perhaps the only thing that prevented violence that day was a young woman paddling wildly to get her hollowed log in between the People and her own tribe. She shouted, shamed, cajoled, and all Alvar could think was that he ended up nodding his head in shame by the end of it. The People had obviously come to trade, she said, they weren't part of the 'Five Fingers', they couldn't be. The Fingers were to the east and the People came from the west.
After he finally comprehended what she said, he'd had a hollowed log pulled up that had been stuffed with Whitestone and Berrystone. The other tribe had been seriously impressed at the collection of glowing stones and slowly relaxed their guard, fingers coming off of tense bowstrings. The fact that the log also contained a woman and child was probably what convinced them fully, however. No one would bring woman-and-child on a raid.
Instead, the other tribe's speaker finally managed to browbeat her side into putting away their weapons and having the People put away theirs. They had everyone brought into the encampment and an impromptu feast set up. It seemed a bit unwise to Alvar, a huge risk to bring new people into the heart of your camp, but the Speaker seemed to be unable to take no for an answer.
"A gift," she promised in the language her tribe used. A broken and bastardized version of the People's own. Only one word in five was comprehensible, but it was enough if you were slow and took your time. "You shiny, we feed."
The only hick up was when they brought out the food. Instead of good meat, they offered strange dark black grains served in bowls. They were boiled until soft and then served with plants or strips of meat to go on top. It all tasted strange on Alvar's tongue, but the Speaker happily ate the meal. It wasn't foul of sickness inducing, then.
"What?" he asked, gesturing to the grains.
"Ah, water-grass," the Speaker responded. She gestured out to a series of long grasses that grew all up and down the river banks. She then pointed to a hollowed log and mimed holding the grass and then striking it. Apparently the black grains were what came off the tops of the plant. "Yummy!"
Eating slowly while his People and the Speaker's tribe ate, danced, and made merry (food always brought out celebration), Alvar chewed on the question that really bothered him, Why? Other tribes were boon and bane both, as he had learned from the raiders. Why trust all of the People when others could easily steal or kill?
On the other side of the fire, a young hunter puffed himself, obviously to show off. He grappled with one of the Speaker's tribesman and easily heaved him into the dirt. The tribesman's friends looked on and guffawed before stepping up to try their own luck. The hunter preened under the attention the young women were given and the tribesmen did not want to be shown up. The young hunter took two more challengers, but lost to the third, laughing when he ended up bouncing along the ground.
Then again, Alvar thought, peace might not be so bad.
"Not Five Fingers," the Speaker seemed to say in response to Alvar's unconscious thought. She spoke a few more words that Alvar couldn't understand beyond a few references to 'river' and 'beyond'. "Friend? Stay?" she asked.
How do the People react on meeting the River-Bend Tribe?
[ ] Set up a more permanent camp, friends!
[ ] Temporarily move in, neighbors!
[ ] Return to the Crystal Lake, fun times!
Last edited:
5.0 First Epic
[X] Set up a more permanent camp, friends!
Age had been harsh on him, Alvar thought. He missed the days of his youth, the days where he could run and swim from first light until the setting of the sun, sleep on the hard ground and then be ready to go the next day. He was old, rickety, now. His bones snapped and crackled and popped. Despite it all, he grinned, he still had it; among People's hunters, he was the best.
But there were moments where all he could feel was helpless. He had buried countless friends, confidants; his sister was long dead, only one of her children were still among the living, though there were a few grandnieces and nephews. Out of his entire generation, there were only a few that still lived. Given some of their health, he might soon be the last.
The worst funeral, though, was the one he attended now. His third-born son was too young to die. Old enough to make it past childhood, but not enough to fall to old age.
He'd had other children before, and buried a few of them too, but they were not the children of his love. He had been much, much older than the beautiful, vibrant speaker of the River-Bend tribe. He had literally had children of an age with her! But, if there was anyone, Natka was the love of his life. No other woman could compare in her smile, her wit, her general love of life. Alvar had caught himself smiling when he returned from near every hunt! Just being able to see her again made his life worth living. If he was the moon, then she was his sea of stars.
Natka had him wrapped around her fingers.
Four children did she see fit to bless him with and all of them had been great. The eldest, Feodor, was a hunter and a craftsman besides! He was good, at least as good as Alvar had been at his peak. The second, Lucjan, shared his elder brother's affinity for crafts. The youngest, Tymon, was excellent at organizing people. If there was a project to be done, he could make it happen but putting the exact right person in the spot to get it done.
Each of them had found a niche within the People and the River-Bend tribe. Feodor had created an ingenious series of traps made from trees and other dead fall. Things that could kill without any input from a hunter! It made hunting profoundly easier. Instead of having to find and stalk a beast, a trap could be left for them to stumble into. Dozens of traps could be set and even if most caught nothing, those catches took no effort! It also made hunting much more accessible. Children, elders, mothers new and to-be, were all capable of setting smaller traps while they gathered fruits, roots, or water-grass. The return wasn't much, but it was enough so that everyone could now be assured of having meat at every meal.
Lucjan had given the People shinning flint. A hunter had uncovered a number of small, shiny black stones several years ago, but Lucjan was the first to realize that when knapped like flint, they made blades so fine and sharp that they seemed to slide through flesh without any resistance. The only downside of the new Blackstone tools was that Blackstone tended to fracture or shatter, even more so than flint. An arrow striking bone or a spear tip driven into dense muscle was likely to utterly shatter, but it wasn't like flint was extremely durable either.
Tymon was a thinker, planning was his weapon. He always seemed to know who would be lucky on a hunt or when someone was faking strength to hide an illness. Or when a child had the perfect hands to knap flint, carve bone, or stitch clothing. It often took Natka's skill at words to smooth over his suggestions and actually get them implemented, but once people realized how often Tymon was right, they started to go along with his ideas. There wasn't one major change that people could point to, a contribution like his brothers', but he often made everyone's lives easier.
It was with a heavy heart that Alvar turned to his sons, standing on the grave of their brother, and asked them to turn their gifts to war.
"The tribe of the Fingers has attacked us," Alvar said simply. "They've raided the tribe of your mother - your tribe - for years beyond count. Natka has said that her mother's mother could not remember a time where the Fingers did not sent out their men with violence in their hearts. Those raids have only grown in strength. Your brother has died on the end of their spears. Natka..."
Alvar had met fought in the most recent battle, his spear ending the life of more than one. The wolves he had spent so many years taming proved their worth in alerting the People to the River-Bend tribe's distress. He and the other hunters in camp had managed to get in position to support River-Bend, but they were barely in time. The men of the Fingers had been quick and brutal in their raid, bringing fire to burn the wood-and-straw huts of the tribe. Chaos had reigned upon their arrival and more than a few of the River-Bend's spears and arrows flew towards them.
Status Gained: Epic Age!
At the heart of the raid, a massive woman stalked, directing the raiders of the Fingers with cold, sure precision. The jaw of an enormous bear hung from her neck and the creature's skull sat on top of her head. She was massively strong and skilled with the great, two-handed club she carried. Alvar had seen her fling a man with a single blow, sending him crashing through a flaming hut. He had engaged her then and even managed to be the first to draw blood; the bear-woman would carry an enormous scar across her face for the rest of her days.
But... in the end he had lost. Her club splintered his spear and he'd been knocked to the ground. The only thing that had saved him was Feodor leading the People's hunters, rallying them and swiftly entrapping the raiders from the Fingers. Despite that, the bear-woman managed to pull her forces to safety. Many died, but they managed to take their loot and their captives and escape down the river.
Their retreat was swift and just as well coordinated. Loading their captives and loot into hollowed logs, the raiders were gone before they could be intercepted. By going down river, they could leave at nearly three times the speed that one could go up it. The entire situation just left the River-Bend tribe feeling weak and impotent. They could counter-raid the Fingers easily, but trying to return would be extremely difficult. Even through unpathed forest, it would be faster to hike than to travel by river.
Women and children were taken as well as most of the River-Bend tribe's collected water-grass, dried and smoked meat. If the People hadn't been there, it's quite likely that the River-Bend tribe would've suffered starvation in the days immediately after the raid. They'd lost much of their food reserves and the few hunters they'd had available weren't enough to quickly hunt and replace stocks. While no one he said it, the River-Bend tribe was immensely dependent on the People. They couldn't leave, their dependence on harvesting water-grass meant that they couldn't move. If they did, they would definitely starve; they didn't have enough hunters to bring them meat. It might have been possible, though very hard, had their reserves been full, but they were almost empty now.
"Father—" Feodor started, speaking softly but harshly. "What do we know about the Fingers? We need information. For our brother... and for mother."
"I found someone," Tymon said. "Someone who always felt a little bit out of place among the River. She used to be from the Fingers, apparently. A woman who had left them to follow a husband among the River. She says that the Fingers are a massive intersection of rivers; at least five major ones, like the fingers on a hand. At the heart of that is an island made of three hills in the center of the rivers. The Fingersmen live there amongst great trees. They apparently collect this... brown power from the trees; it's supposed to be a food of the spirits. The captives they take are... forced to work, gathering the powder and tending to massive fires that burn day and night. Any captive that refuses work is not punished, directly. Instead, all captives in that person's cohort are denied food until all of them are back and working."
"They force people to work?" Lucjan asked. "That can't work well. Those best at something are called to it. They then trade the fruits of their labour for food or favours. Someone forced to work will be terrible at it."
"It doesn't work well," Tymon said. "For the captives, anyway. It works for those on top."
"Regardless," Feodor cut in. "The information is important, but irrelevant. We need to respond. Once things have recovered enough, the hunters can depart and strike back."
"That's expected," Tymon said. "The Fingersmen raid everyone along the five rivers. I'm certain they've been attacked before this. They need too many captives. With how week the River-Bend tribe is, we wouldn't be able to defeat them. At least, we can't if we wanted to keep everyone fed. Hunters who are fighting are not hunters who are hunting. We allow many of the People to focus on something that isn't making gathering food or making tools to gather food. We'd be best served by doing nothing."
"Limit the size of the raid, then," Feodor said. "Send only the best of the best and strike at night. We can use fire just as easily as the Fingersmen and escape in the chaos. The weaker hunters can remain here, protect the camp and gather food."
"There's another alternative," Lucjan suggested. "Don't fight them, but don't ignore the problem." He pulled aside his furs to reveal a beautiful amulet of Berrystones wrapped tightly in leather cord. "Offer gifts. We have Whitestone, Berrystone, Blackstone, fine furs, quality meat; there are things that are useful or pretty, things that other tribes want. If we exchange gifts, then the Fingersmen are likely to give back the captives they took from us. They might also be inclined to trade the brown powder they harvest."
"You want to help them expand their atrocity?" Feodor asked, incredulous. "They will use the Blackstone we give them and turn it on us!"
"Unlikely," Tymon said. "The giving of gifts would mean they become dependent on us. After all, we don't need captives or their special spirit food. If they take Blackstone for tools and weapons, they will need us."
"Then you will let an offense against us go unanswered. Father," Feodor said. "When the North Lake raiders attacked Crystal Lake in your boyhood, you slew them; as many as you possible could. Has the Tribe of North Lake ever bothered us since? No, not a peep. We burn their stores of food and the Fingersmen will not be a problem. Just like the River-Bend tribe, they are dependent on water-grass. They're unlikely to have nearly enough hunters to support their population and their captives. They'll melt like ice."
"Father," Tymon said. "What should we do?"
Alvar's sons waited for him to respond. He remembered the Battle on the Creek and the arrows flying into swimming backs. He had been angry then, but was that the best course of action for the People?
What does Alvar Winterborn suggest?
[ ] [Response] Feodor's Suggestion (Elite Raid)
[ ] [Response] Lucjan's Suggestion (Trade)
[ ] [Response] Tymon's Suggestion (Do Nothing)
How did the People's Heroes work?
(Martial - Pick 2)
[ ] [Martial] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Martial] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Martial] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe, Fingers
[ ] [Martial] Promote Folk Wrestling
[ ] [Martial] Expand Traps
(Art - Pick 2)
[ ] [Art] Investigate Special Stone
[ ] [Art] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Art] Expand Traps
[ ] [Art] Found Holy Site
- [ ] Location
(Admin - Pick 1)
[ ] [Admin] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Admin] Study Travel
[ ] [Admin] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Admin] Harvest Water-Grass
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick1 2 due to Climate Rolls)
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Found Holy Site
-[ ] River-Bend
[ ] [Action] Investigate Special Stone
[ ] [Action] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe, Fingers
[ ] [Action] Promote Folk Wrestling
[ ] [Action] Expand Traps
[ ] [Action] Harvest Water-Grass
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] Crystal Lake
[ ] [Go] East (Too Dangerous)
[ ] [Go] South (Too Dangerous)
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
Age had been harsh on him, Alvar thought. He missed the days of his youth, the days where he could run and swim from first light until the setting of the sun, sleep on the hard ground and then be ready to go the next day. He was old, rickety, now. His bones snapped and crackled and popped. Despite it all, he grinned, he still had it; among People's hunters, he was the best.
But there were moments where all he could feel was helpless. He had buried countless friends, confidants; his sister was long dead, only one of her children were still among the living, though there were a few grandnieces and nephews. Out of his entire generation, there were only a few that still lived. Given some of their health, he might soon be the last.
The worst funeral, though, was the one he attended now. His third-born son was too young to die. Old enough to make it past childhood, but not enough to fall to old age.
He'd had other children before, and buried a few of them too, but they were not the children of his love. He had been much, much older than the beautiful, vibrant speaker of the River-Bend tribe. He had literally had children of an age with her! But, if there was anyone, Natka was the love of his life. No other woman could compare in her smile, her wit, her general love of life. Alvar had caught himself smiling when he returned from near every hunt! Just being able to see her again made his life worth living. If he was the moon, then she was his sea of stars.
Natka had him wrapped around her fingers.
Four children did she see fit to bless him with and all of them had been great. The eldest, Feodor, was a hunter and a craftsman besides! He was good, at least as good as Alvar had been at his peak. The second, Lucjan, shared his elder brother's affinity for crafts. The youngest, Tymon, was excellent at organizing people. If there was a project to be done, he could make it happen but putting the exact right person in the spot to get it done.
Each of them had found a niche within the People and the River-Bend tribe. Feodor had created an ingenious series of traps made from trees and other dead fall. Things that could kill without any input from a hunter! It made hunting profoundly easier. Instead of having to find and stalk a beast, a trap could be left for them to stumble into. Dozens of traps could be set and even if most caught nothing, those catches took no effort! It also made hunting much more accessible. Children, elders, mothers new and to-be, were all capable of setting smaller traps while they gathered fruits, roots, or water-grass. The return wasn't much, but it was enough so that everyone could now be assured of having meat at every meal.
Lucjan had given the People shinning flint. A hunter had uncovered a number of small, shiny black stones several years ago, but Lucjan was the first to realize that when knapped like flint, they made blades so fine and sharp that they seemed to slide through flesh without any resistance. The only downside of the new Blackstone tools was that Blackstone tended to fracture or shatter, even more so than flint. An arrow striking bone or a spear tip driven into dense muscle was likely to utterly shatter, but it wasn't like flint was extremely durable either.
Tymon was a thinker, planning was his weapon. He always seemed to know who would be lucky on a hunt or when someone was faking strength to hide an illness. Or when a child had the perfect hands to knap flint, carve bone, or stitch clothing. It often took Natka's skill at words to smooth over his suggestions and actually get them implemented, but once people realized how often Tymon was right, they started to go along with his ideas. There wasn't one major change that people could point to, a contribution like his brothers', but he often made everyone's lives easier.
It was with a heavy heart that Alvar turned to his sons, standing on the grave of their brother, and asked them to turn their gifts to war.
"The tribe of the Fingers has attacked us," Alvar said simply. "They've raided the tribe of your mother - your tribe - for years beyond count. Natka has said that her mother's mother could not remember a time where the Fingers did not sent out their men with violence in their hearts. Those raids have only grown in strength. Your brother has died on the end of their spears. Natka..."
Alvar had met fought in the most recent battle, his spear ending the life of more than one. The wolves he had spent so many years taming proved their worth in alerting the People to the River-Bend tribe's distress. He and the other hunters in camp had managed to get in position to support River-Bend, but they were barely in time. The men of the Fingers had been quick and brutal in their raid, bringing fire to burn the wood-and-straw huts of the tribe. Chaos had reigned upon their arrival and more than a few of the River-Bend's spears and arrows flew towards them.
Status Gained: Epic Age!
Heroes walk amongst men in an age of strife. Song and story of the deeds committed in this age will echo across all of time and serve as inspiration for countless generations to come. Blood will be spilled and glory is to be gained!
Trigger Condition: > 5 Heroes; Conflict between Heroes
Effects: Increased Hero generation; doubled Hero effects
Resolve Condition: Source of conflict is resolved OR Heroes < 3
Reward: Prestige
Trigger Condition: > 5 Heroes; Conflict between Heroes
Effects: Increased Hero generation; doubled Hero effects
Resolve Condition: Source of conflict is resolved OR Heroes < 3
Reward: Prestige
At the heart of the raid, a massive woman stalked, directing the raiders of the Fingers with cold, sure precision. The jaw of an enormous bear hung from her neck and the creature's skull sat on top of her head. She was massively strong and skilled with the great, two-handed club she carried. Alvar had seen her fling a man with a single blow, sending him crashing through a flaming hut. He had engaged her then and even managed to be the first to draw blood; the bear-woman would carry an enormous scar across her face for the rest of her days.
But... in the end he had lost. Her club splintered his spear and he'd been knocked to the ground. The only thing that had saved him was Feodor leading the People's hunters, rallying them and swiftly entrapping the raiders from the Fingers. Despite that, the bear-woman managed to pull her forces to safety. Many died, but they managed to take their loot and their captives and escape down the river.
Their retreat was swift and just as well coordinated. Loading their captives and loot into hollowed logs, the raiders were gone before they could be intercepted. By going down river, they could leave at nearly three times the speed that one could go up it. The entire situation just left the River-Bend tribe feeling weak and impotent. They could counter-raid the Fingers easily, but trying to return would be extremely difficult. Even through unpathed forest, it would be faster to hike than to travel by river.
Women and children were taken as well as most of the River-Bend tribe's collected water-grass, dried and smoked meat. If the People hadn't been there, it's quite likely that the River-Bend tribe would've suffered starvation in the days immediately after the raid. They'd lost much of their food reserves and the few hunters they'd had available weren't enough to quickly hunt and replace stocks. While no one he said it, the River-Bend tribe was immensely dependent on the People. They couldn't leave, their dependence on harvesting water-grass meant that they couldn't move. If they did, they would definitely starve; they didn't have enough hunters to bring them meat. It might have been possible, though very hard, had their reserves been full, but they were almost empty now.
"Father—" Feodor started, speaking softly but harshly. "What do we know about the Fingers? We need information. For our brother... and for mother."
"I found someone," Tymon said. "Someone who always felt a little bit out of place among the River. She used to be from the Fingers, apparently. A woman who had left them to follow a husband among the River. She says that the Fingers are a massive intersection of rivers; at least five major ones, like the fingers on a hand. At the heart of that is an island made of three hills in the center of the rivers. The Fingersmen live there amongst great trees. They apparently collect this... brown power from the trees; it's supposed to be a food of the spirits. The captives they take are... forced to work, gathering the powder and tending to massive fires that burn day and night. Any captive that refuses work is not punished, directly. Instead, all captives in that person's cohort are denied food until all of them are back and working."
"They force people to work?" Lucjan asked. "That can't work well. Those best at something are called to it. They then trade the fruits of their labour for food or favours. Someone forced to work will be terrible at it."
"It doesn't work well," Tymon said. "For the captives, anyway. It works for those on top."
"Regardless," Feodor cut in. "The information is important, but irrelevant. We need to respond. Once things have recovered enough, the hunters can depart and strike back."
"That's expected," Tymon said. "The Fingersmen raid everyone along the five rivers. I'm certain they've been attacked before this. They need too many captives. With how week the River-Bend tribe is, we wouldn't be able to defeat them. At least, we can't if we wanted to keep everyone fed. Hunters who are fighting are not hunters who are hunting. We allow many of the People to focus on something that isn't making gathering food or making tools to gather food. We'd be best served by doing nothing."
"Limit the size of the raid, then," Feodor said. "Send only the best of the best and strike at night. We can use fire just as easily as the Fingersmen and escape in the chaos. The weaker hunters can remain here, protect the camp and gather food."
"There's another alternative," Lucjan suggested. "Don't fight them, but don't ignore the problem." He pulled aside his furs to reveal a beautiful amulet of Berrystones wrapped tightly in leather cord. "Offer gifts. We have Whitestone, Berrystone, Blackstone, fine furs, quality meat; there are things that are useful or pretty, things that other tribes want. If we exchange gifts, then the Fingersmen are likely to give back the captives they took from us. They might also be inclined to trade the brown powder they harvest."
"You want to help them expand their atrocity?" Feodor asked, incredulous. "They will use the Blackstone we give them and turn it on us!"
"Unlikely," Tymon said. "The giving of gifts would mean they become dependent on us. After all, we don't need captives or their special spirit food. If they take Blackstone for tools and weapons, they will need us."
"Then you will let an offense against us go unanswered. Father," Feodor said. "When the North Lake raiders attacked Crystal Lake in your boyhood, you slew them; as many as you possible could. Has the Tribe of North Lake ever bothered us since? No, not a peep. We burn their stores of food and the Fingersmen will not be a problem. Just like the River-Bend tribe, they are dependent on water-grass. They're unlikely to have nearly enough hunters to support their population and their captives. They'll melt like ice."
"Father," Tymon said. "What should we do?"
Alvar's sons waited for him to respond. He remembered the Battle on the Creek and the arrows flying into swimming backs. He had been angry then, but was that the best course of action for the People?
What does Alvar Winterborn suggest?
[ ] [Response] Feodor's Suggestion (Elite Raid)
[ ] [Response] Lucjan's Suggestion (Trade)
[ ] [Response] Tymon's Suggestion (Do Nothing)
How did the People's Heroes work?
(Martial - Pick 2)
[ ] [Martial] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Martial] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Martial] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe, Fingers
[ ] [Martial] Promote Folk Wrestling
[ ] [Martial] Expand Traps
(Art - Pick 2)
[ ] [Art] Investigate Special Stone
[ ] [Art] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Art] Expand Traps
[ ] [Art] Found Holy Site
- [ ] Location
(Admin - Pick 1)
[ ] [Admin] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Admin] Study Travel
[ ] [Admin] Harvest Water-Grass
What else did the People Focus on? (Pick
Expand Wolfpacks - Increase the number of tamed wolves that follow the People. Willfully leave out food for them in order to attract more wolves and begin taking their young into the tribe as Hunters.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wonderful World bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Wonderful World bonus) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Found Holy Site - Create a small shrine in honour of the spirits. Can be placed at places of geographical or cultural signifiance. (River-Bend)
-Location?
Investigate Special Stone - The Spirits have been generous in providing numerous tools for the People to work. Investigate them and try to find new ways to apply the unique properties of these stones.
Promote Folk Wrestling (Increased by Bellicose Bearing) - Children fight as children will, wrestling and playing in order to learn the basics of violence and hunting. This is normally discouraged as they age by the Elders so that they can focus on necessary violence, but perhaps they should act to promote it instead? Encourage people to maintain the skill at violence against people that they acquired as children.
Raid - The People have turned their hunting of beasts into the hunting of humans. Strike down those who stand in your way and collect the rewards.
-Target?
Expand Traps - A new invention for the People, these clever man-made dead falls allow beasts to be crushed without any danger to a hunter, or, indeed, without any effort!
Harvest Water-Grass - A curious plant that was found and cultivated by the River-Bend tribe. Workers in canoe strip seeds from stalks growing in the water and then boil them for food.
Create Annual Festival - Celebrate widely and graciously for the success that the People have faced. Eat, drink, and be merry!
Increase Hunting - Double down on the People's traditional method of gathering sustenance. Work to bring in additional meat, fur, and leather.
Explore (Wonderful World bonus) - Search far and wide in this strange new land for things that may be of benefit to the People. Resources can be found and contact established with other tribes.
Study Travel (Wonderful World bonus) - Invest time in learning how most effectively to travel. The world is harsh and strange, learning how to traverse it will save the People much in effort and food.
Establish Waystation - Create a relay point for the People, a place that they can stay during their travels or when they make annual trips to different locations.
Found Holy Site - Create a small shrine in honour of the spirits. Can be placed at places of geographical or cultural signifiance. (River-Bend)
-Location?
Investigate Special Stone - The Spirits have been generous in providing numerous tools for the People to work. Investigate them and try to find new ways to apply the unique properties of these stones.
Promote Folk Wrestling (Increased by Bellicose Bearing) - Children fight as children will, wrestling and playing in order to learn the basics of violence and hunting. This is normally discouraged as they age by the Elders so that they can focus on necessary violence, but perhaps they should act to promote it instead? Encourage people to maintain the skill at violence against people that they acquired as children.
Raid - The People have turned their hunting of beasts into the hunting of humans. Strike down those who stand in your way and collect the rewards.
-Target?
Expand Traps - A new invention for the People, these clever man-made dead falls allow beasts to be crushed without any danger to a hunter, or, indeed, without any effort!
Harvest Water-Grass - A curious plant that was found and cultivated by the River-Bend tribe. Workers in canoe strip seeds from stalks growing in the water and then boil them for food.
[ ] [Action] Expand Wolfpacks
[ ] [Action] Create Annual Festival
[ ] [Action] Increase Hunting
[ ] [Action] Explore
[ ] [Action] Study Travel
[ ] [Action] Establish Waystation
[ ] [Action] Found Holy Site
-[ ] River-Bend
[ ] [Action] Investigate Special Stone
[ ] [Action] Raid
- [ ] North Lake Tribe, Fingers
[ ] [Action] Promote Folk Wrestling
[ ] [Action] Expand Traps
[ ] [Action] Harvest Water-Grass
Do the People move as the years pass by?
[ ] [Go] No
[ ] [Go] Crystal Lake
[ ] [Go] South (Too Dangerous)
[ ] [Go] North (Too Dangerous)
5.1 Fire and Ice
[X] Plan Sorry Hannz You Have Everything
Feodor slowly packed the last of his supplies, double checking the food, extra Blackstone, flint and leather, before stringing them to his back. In the end, father had seen wisdom in his proposal: they were going to war. Vengeance was at hand. It wouldn't bring back his younger brother, but it would prevent any of the People's other children from succumbing to violence. Feodor had been raised on stories of the Battle at the Creek where his father had lead all of the People's hunters and struck back at the tribe from the North Lake. Several of the People's hunters had died, but far more of the North Lake's hunters did. Not once was there trouble again from the tribe of the north after that point.
He had learned from his father's story. You only had to use violence once, judiciously and generously perhaps, but it solved problems.
Permanently.
Value Gained: Retributive Justice!
To be honest, the prospect of a raid excited Feodor more than a little. It would be a true test of his skill. In hunting, his father was more skilled than he. When they crossed spears, however, he won nearly every time. Not that they crossed spears all that often anymore. Father was old. Every year, he was just that little bit slower, his reflexes less sharp.The death of his son had obviously weighed on Alvar in ways that Feodor couldn't understand. Maybe when he was a father, he would.
"Feodor." Lucjan stopped his elder brother before he could move to the staging area. He handed over a long thin club, "Here."
The club was as long as a man's arm and thin for its size, equivalent in width to someone's thumb. It was heavy, obviously made from spear-wood and hardened in a fire. Wolf motifs danced up and down the flat of the club and deep grooves were laid into the side. The tusk of an orker hung from a leather strap at the bottom. "What is it?" Feodor asked.
"It's a club," Lucjan said. Pulling out a stack of Blackstone flakes, he slotted one into the side. "But, it's also more. If your enemy has armour, use it as a club. When they don't," Lucjan grinned as he slotted in another Blackstone blade. "They won't even feel it when you cut them."
Feodor was quiet for a moment. Lucjan had never been a killer. Even when they had gone out hunting together and Feodor found a beast caught in one of the traps, Lucjan had always been unwilling to kill it. The only time he did, Lucjan had emptied his stomach immediately afterwards.
It was something that Feodor had never been able to understand that about his younger brother. Seeing the half-feral grin on his brother's face as he offered a thing of beauty up to be made into a tool of killing left Feodor feeling slightly sick.
"Thank you." Feodor quietly tied the club to his waist. What else could he say? "It'll be put to good use. For our brother."
"For our brother," Lucjan agreed.
A few dozen men gathered along the river-bend, packing supplies into canoes and checking weapons. Only a few dozen were arrayed, many with women and children looking on; the best of the People's best. Feodor could see Tymon wrestling with a group of wolves, trying to convince them to sit in a canoe. It didn't work, one of the hunters he'd managed to convince to help him in the task went sliding across the mud only to land on his face when one of the wolves bolted and dragged him by the lead. Feodor laughed, as did most of the other hunters nearby.
Lucjan just watched on in fascination. Feodor shock his head, his brother was always strange. Maybe that was part of being Winterborn; Tymon was strange too.
"Hunters!" Alvar called. "Double check your gear; we leave soon. And Tymon, leave the damn wolves. The Fingers are four days to the east, the wolves won't sit that long. Especially when it takes us twelve to get back. Move out."
The hunters of the People were completely unopposed on the great river. Aside from cheers from their cousins in the River-Bend tribe, the only sound Feodor heard were the singing of birds and splashing of their paddles. When they finally arrived at the Finger's Feodor's heart fell. The entire settlement was surrounded by a crude embankment of earth with rough cut logs planted in the earth. It was like a giant had decided they needed to cap the top of the hill with a house. The few gaps in the wall were gated and always watched by alert-eyed hunters.
Attacking the Fingersmen in their settlement was out of the question. Feodor knew that trying to force the gates would bring ruinous casualties. Even if they brought all of the People, forcing the gates would just result in their deaths. They could try to burn a section of wall down, but he would bet nearly anything the the Fingersmen had massive reserves of water stored in their camp for just that reason.
After consulting Alvar, his father had agreed that the Bear-Woman seemed to be the type to think ahead like that.
"North we'll go then." Alvar pointed to one of the lesser branches of the Fingers. Numerous canoes moved up stream, ferrying people and helped bring cut logs back to the settlement. Likely to be used as firewood, Tymon guessed. The entire valley smelled of wood smoke and the Fingersmen seemed to move far, far more wood than they actually used in the buildings they'd assembled.
The first few days, the People's hunters reaped a rich harvest in blood. All of them were hunters, born and bred to stalk beasts in the empty woods of the world. The Fingersmen seemed to have none of that knowledge. They were woodsmen and loyal to the Bear-Woman, but that was all Feodor could say of them. Within days, the northwestern reaches were cleared of hostiles. A few of the Fingersmen's woodcutters had surrendered, but most did not. The Bear-Woman had apparently organized things so that it was mostly fathers and mothers out gathering wood while their children were back in the settlement watched by grandparents or cousins. The threat against their families was unspoken.
While the People had slain many times their number, the Bear-Woman had organized a response and had her hunters out in force extremely quickly. Virtually everyone that could hold a bow or spear was brought. There were more fighters mobilized against them than in the entire population of the People!
Despite that, the People won. It was embarrassing to Feodor how easy it was to frustrate them and run rings around the Fingersmen. They knew the land abstractly, but most of the woodsmen and hunters had died or been forced to flee during the People's initial raids. It was easy to move by night or to carry their canoes with them to another lake, another river, and escape their pursuers. Hunting while they moved keep the People's supplies high while the Fingersmen took them from their settlement.
The Bear-Woman was consummately in command, organizing her warriors in exactly the right way to minimize damage to them or their supply lines, while maximizing coverage. It didn't help when Tymon could counter her organization and both Feodor and his father could lead any band to victory against one of the Bear-Woman's search parties. Slowly, bit by bit, the People cut holes in the net of the Fingersmen. They couldn't win, Feodor had realized that quickly; the Fingersmen had too many warriors, but they could inflict casualties so disproportionate that the Fingersmen wouldn't be able to retaliate.
It was against that backdrop, that Feodor finally saw a hole open in the Fingersmen's net. The Bear-Woman's supply protections had been disrupted and some of her forces had outrun their supply lines, forced to wait while some of the Bear-Woman's retinue gathered more. She was exposed, the heart of their enemy was vulnerable after years of harassment.
Racing towards her, Feodor pulled up short when he realized he was expected. The Bear-Woman was vulnerable, but she was surrounded by her personal guard. It was a gamble, Feodor realized. The Bear-Woman had deliberately made herself vulnerable to try and pull either himself or his father into a personal confrontation. She thought she would be victorious in a fight.
She was wrong.
(+1 Prestige: Hero Versus Hero Kill!)
Feodor took her head off with a single clean swipe of his bladed club after a short fight. The Bear-Woman was good, but his skill at combat had been honed from direct fights and raids over years. Even her armour, a thick bearskin woven with thin wooden boards was not enough to stop the crushing force of his club. Her guards broke after than and ran for their lives. Feodor let them. The Fingersmen's efforts disintegrated after that and they quickly retreated to their fortified settlement, only venturing out to collect water-grass under heavy guard. The People had to let them go since storming the settlement was impossible, but their ability to project power was gone.
It left a bad taste in Feodor's mouth to leave the job unfinished, but he knew that the alternative was too bloody to consider. At least... it was until Lucjan brought forward a solution. Apparently, he had been inspired by seeing a wolf drag a hunter across the mud. If someone could slide across something slippery like mud, why not something else, like ice? He had fashioned sliders, carved leg bones that were ridged along the bottom to be able to dig into ice.
They worked, but it was hard work. Pushing across the ice was exhausting... which was why he brought out the wolves. They could run for days and attached to a harness, they could pull a hunter or their baggage. The most difficult part had been taming wolves and raising them to harness rather than actually building the slides.
The sliders and wolf combination gave the People an enormous advantage: winter movement. The great river froze every winter, preventing virtually all winter travel. With the skates and the dogs, though, so many things suddenly became possible. If only for the young, Alvar had taken a single look and left the winter raid in his eldest son's hands.
It didn't prevent Feodor from cursing his brother while he flew across the great river behind one of the People's wolves. As ridiculous as it was, they moved faster than hey could by canoe, even if they could only bring a tenth as much equipment. Some hunters crashed, breaking bones or in one case, outright dying, but the vast majority of their raiding party arrived at the Finger's without incident. Just as Tymon expected, snow had been driven up directly against the settlement's wooden wall. The Fingersmen hadn't cleared it off. After all, why would they? No one had ever raided in winter. Snow drifted as deeply as a man was tall in most places and made conventional travel impossible.
Feodor was the first hunter over the walls that night and among the first to set fire to the Fingermen's houses. They were quickly forced from the settlement when the Fingersmen realized what was going on, but it was too late by that point. The fires spread despite the snow and ice, leaving most of the settlement burned to the ground by morning and virtually all of their supplies destroyed.
The Fingersmen scattered after that, forced to try and subsist on rations too meager to support their population. Many went into the woods, looking for game. Others got into their canoes and tried to escape starvation by finding help along one of the rivers that made up the Fingers. Some few even begged the People's hunters to take them with them, adopt them into the clan.
(Civilization Destroyed: Fingersmen! +3 Prestige)
(Epic Age Resolved: +5 Prestige!)
Feodor returned, victorious to his father and spoke quickly of his victories.
Alvar Winterborn died peacefully that night.
What was to be done with the remaining people of the Fingers?
[ ] [Victory] Settle some of the People in to support them. (Establish Waystation)
[ ] [Victory] Adopt them into the People.
[ ] [Victory] Support them with food so that they don't perish.
[ ] [Victory] Let them die.
How do the People remember this victory?
[ ] [Memory] Celebrate! (Create Annual Festival)
[ ] [Memory] Establish competitions (Promote Folk Wrestling)
[ ] [Memory] Thank the Spirits (Found Holy Site)
[ ] [Memory] This was a tragedy, no memory will be made.
-[X] [Response] Feodor's Suggestion (Elite Raid)
-[X] [Martial] Expand Wolfpacks
-[X] [Martial] Raid
- [X] Fingers
-[X] [Art] Investigate Special Stone
-[X] [Art] Expand Traps
-[X] [Admin] Study Travel
-[X] [Action] Increase Hunting
-[X] [Action] Raid
-[X] [Go] No
-[X] [Martial] Expand Wolfpacks
-[X] [Martial] Raid
- [X] Fingers
-[X] [Art] Investigate Special Stone
-[X] [Art] Expand Traps
-[X] [Admin] Study Travel
-[X] [Action] Increase Hunting
-[X] [Action] Raid
-[X] [Go] No
Feodor slowly packed the last of his supplies, double checking the food, extra Blackstone, flint and leather, before stringing them to his back. In the end, father had seen wisdom in his proposal: they were going to war. Vengeance was at hand. It wouldn't bring back his younger brother, but it would prevent any of the People's other children from succumbing to violence. Feodor had been raised on stories of the Battle at the Creek where his father had lead all of the People's hunters and struck back at the tribe from the North Lake. Several of the People's hunters had died, but far more of the North Lake's hunters did. Not once was there trouble again from the tribe of the north after that point.
He had learned from his father's story. You only had to use violence once, judiciously and generously perhaps, but it solved problems.
Permanently.
Value Gained: Retributive Justice!
An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. That's why, when someone puts out one of your eyes, you blind them in both. Justice is protection and the end to violence, discord, and disorder through swift and firm action.
Pros: Once punishment is meted out, the matter is settled
Cons: Punishments can be harsh
Pros: Once punishment is meted out, the matter is settled
Cons: Punishments can be harsh
To be honest, the prospect of a raid excited Feodor more than a little. It would be a true test of his skill. In hunting, his father was more skilled than he. When they crossed spears, however, he won nearly every time. Not that they crossed spears all that often anymore. Father was old. Every year, he was just that little bit slower, his reflexes less sharp.The death of his son had obviously weighed on Alvar in ways that Feodor couldn't understand. Maybe when he was a father, he would.
"Feodor." Lucjan stopped his elder brother before he could move to the staging area. He handed over a long thin club, "Here."
The club was as long as a man's arm and thin for its size, equivalent in width to someone's thumb. It was heavy, obviously made from spear-wood and hardened in a fire. Wolf motifs danced up and down the flat of the club and deep grooves were laid into the side. The tusk of an orker hung from a leather strap at the bottom. "What is it?" Feodor asked.
"It's a club," Lucjan said. Pulling out a stack of Blackstone flakes, he slotted one into the side. "But, it's also more. If your enemy has armour, use it as a club. When they don't," Lucjan grinned as he slotted in another Blackstone blade. "They won't even feel it when you cut them."
Feodor was quiet for a moment. Lucjan had never been a killer. Even when they had gone out hunting together and Feodor found a beast caught in one of the traps, Lucjan had always been unwilling to kill it. The only time he did, Lucjan had emptied his stomach immediately afterwards.
It was something that Feodor had never been able to understand that about his younger brother. Seeing the half-feral grin on his brother's face as he offered a thing of beauty up to be made into a tool of killing left Feodor feeling slightly sick.
"Thank you." Feodor quietly tied the club to his waist. What else could he say? "It'll be put to good use. For our brother."
"For our brother," Lucjan agreed.
A few dozen men gathered along the river-bend, packing supplies into canoes and checking weapons. Only a few dozen were arrayed, many with women and children looking on; the best of the People's best. Feodor could see Tymon wrestling with a group of wolves, trying to convince them to sit in a canoe. It didn't work, one of the hunters he'd managed to convince to help him in the task went sliding across the mud only to land on his face when one of the wolves bolted and dragged him by the lead. Feodor laughed, as did most of the other hunters nearby.
Lucjan just watched on in fascination. Feodor shock his head, his brother was always strange. Maybe that was part of being Winterborn; Tymon was strange too.
"Hunters!" Alvar called. "Double check your gear; we leave soon. And Tymon, leave the damn wolves. The Fingers are four days to the east, the wolves won't sit that long. Especially when it takes us twelve to get back. Move out."
The hunters of the People were completely unopposed on the great river. Aside from cheers from their cousins in the River-Bend tribe, the only sound Feodor heard were the singing of birds and splashing of their paddles. When they finally arrived at the Finger's Feodor's heart fell. The entire settlement was surrounded by a crude embankment of earth with rough cut logs planted in the earth. It was like a giant had decided they needed to cap the top of the hill with a house. The few gaps in the wall were gated and always watched by alert-eyed hunters.
Attacking the Fingersmen in their settlement was out of the question. Feodor knew that trying to force the gates would bring ruinous casualties. Even if they brought all of the People, forcing the gates would just result in their deaths. They could try to burn a section of wall down, but he would bet nearly anything the the Fingersmen had massive reserves of water stored in their camp for just that reason.
After consulting Alvar, his father had agreed that the Bear-Woman seemed to be the type to think ahead like that.
"North we'll go then." Alvar pointed to one of the lesser branches of the Fingers. Numerous canoes moved up stream, ferrying people and helped bring cut logs back to the settlement. Likely to be used as firewood, Tymon guessed. The entire valley smelled of wood smoke and the Fingersmen seemed to move far, far more wood than they actually used in the buildings they'd assembled.
The first few days, the People's hunters reaped a rich harvest in blood. All of them were hunters, born and bred to stalk beasts in the empty woods of the world. The Fingersmen seemed to have none of that knowledge. They were woodsmen and loyal to the Bear-Woman, but that was all Feodor could say of them. Within days, the northwestern reaches were cleared of hostiles. A few of the Fingersmen's woodcutters had surrendered, but most did not. The Bear-Woman had apparently organized things so that it was mostly fathers and mothers out gathering wood while their children were back in the settlement watched by grandparents or cousins. The threat against their families was unspoken.
While the People had slain many times their number, the Bear-Woman had organized a response and had her hunters out in force extremely quickly. Virtually everyone that could hold a bow or spear was brought. There were more fighters mobilized against them than in the entire population of the People!
Despite that, the People won. It was embarrassing to Feodor how easy it was to frustrate them and run rings around the Fingersmen. They knew the land abstractly, but most of the woodsmen and hunters had died or been forced to flee during the People's initial raids. It was easy to move by night or to carry their canoes with them to another lake, another river, and escape their pursuers. Hunting while they moved keep the People's supplies high while the Fingersmen took them from their settlement.
The Bear-Woman was consummately in command, organizing her warriors in exactly the right way to minimize damage to them or their supply lines, while maximizing coverage. It didn't help when Tymon could counter her organization and both Feodor and his father could lead any band to victory against one of the Bear-Woman's search parties. Slowly, bit by bit, the People cut holes in the net of the Fingersmen. They couldn't win, Feodor had realized that quickly; the Fingersmen had too many warriors, but they could inflict casualties so disproportionate that the Fingersmen wouldn't be able to retaliate.
It was against that backdrop, that Feodor finally saw a hole open in the Fingersmen's net. The Bear-Woman's supply protections had been disrupted and some of her forces had outrun their supply lines, forced to wait while some of the Bear-Woman's retinue gathered more. She was exposed, the heart of their enemy was vulnerable after years of harassment.
Racing towards her, Feodor pulled up short when he realized he was expected. The Bear-Woman was vulnerable, but she was surrounded by her personal guard. It was a gamble, Feodor realized. The Bear-Woman had deliberately made herself vulnerable to try and pull either himself or his father into a personal confrontation. She thought she would be victorious in a fight.
She was wrong.
(+1 Prestige: Hero Versus Hero Kill!)
Feodor took her head off with a single clean swipe of his bladed club after a short fight. The Bear-Woman was good, but his skill at combat had been honed from direct fights and raids over years. Even her armour, a thick bearskin woven with thin wooden boards was not enough to stop the crushing force of his club. Her guards broke after than and ran for their lives. Feodor let them. The Fingersmen's efforts disintegrated after that and they quickly retreated to their fortified settlement, only venturing out to collect water-grass under heavy guard. The People had to let them go since storming the settlement was impossible, but their ability to project power was gone.
It left a bad taste in Feodor's mouth to leave the job unfinished, but he knew that the alternative was too bloody to consider. At least... it was until Lucjan brought forward a solution. Apparently, he had been inspired by seeing a wolf drag a hunter across the mud. If someone could slide across something slippery like mud, why not something else, like ice? He had fashioned sliders, carved leg bones that were ridged along the bottom to be able to dig into ice.
They worked, but it was hard work. Pushing across the ice was exhausting... which was why he brought out the wolves. They could run for days and attached to a harness, they could pull a hunter or their baggage. The most difficult part had been taming wolves and raising them to harness rather than actually building the slides.
The sliders and wolf combination gave the People an enormous advantage: winter movement. The great river froze every winter, preventing virtually all winter travel. With the skates and the dogs, though, so many things suddenly became possible. If only for the young, Alvar had taken a single look and left the winter raid in his eldest son's hands.
It didn't prevent Feodor from cursing his brother while he flew across the great river behind one of the People's wolves. As ridiculous as it was, they moved faster than hey could by canoe, even if they could only bring a tenth as much equipment. Some hunters crashed, breaking bones or in one case, outright dying, but the vast majority of their raiding party arrived at the Finger's without incident. Just as Tymon expected, snow had been driven up directly against the settlement's wooden wall. The Fingersmen hadn't cleared it off. After all, why would they? No one had ever raided in winter. Snow drifted as deeply as a man was tall in most places and made conventional travel impossible.
Feodor was the first hunter over the walls that night and among the first to set fire to the Fingermen's houses. They were quickly forced from the settlement when the Fingersmen realized what was going on, but it was too late by that point. The fires spread despite the snow and ice, leaving most of the settlement burned to the ground by morning and virtually all of their supplies destroyed.
The Fingersmen scattered after that, forced to try and subsist on rations too meager to support their population. Many went into the woods, looking for game. Others got into their canoes and tried to escape starvation by finding help along one of the rivers that made up the Fingers. Some few even begged the People's hunters to take them with them, adopt them into the clan.
(Civilization Destroyed: Fingersmen! +3 Prestige)
(Epic Age Resolved: +5 Prestige!)
Feodor returned, victorious to his father and spoke quickly of his victories.
Alvar Winterborn died peacefully that night.
What was to be done with the remaining people of the Fingers?
[ ] [Victory] Settle some of the People in to support them. (Establish Waystation)
[ ] [Victory] Adopt them into the People.
[ ] [Victory] Support them with food so that they don't perish.
[ ] [Victory] Let them die.
How do the People remember this victory?
[ ] [Memory] Celebrate! (Create Annual Festival)
[ ] [Memory] Establish competitions (Promote Folk Wrestling)
[ ] [Memory] Thank the Spirits (Found Holy Site)
[ ] [Memory] This was a tragedy, no memory will be made.
Last edited: