Post by Nathan on Sept 18, 2005 11:21:25 GMT -6
Part One: The Prophecy
Natto Auh awoke to find the morning fog still clinging to the tents of his tribe’s camp. Today the Mehl would be off on their annual ceremonial hunt. The ceremony was paramount to the Mehl and their connection to the past. They had perfect knowledge of agriculture and animal domestication. Their knowledge of warfare was sufficient enough for them to ward off invaders, but the Mehl were never known for ferocity and thus they remained rather isolated and settled around the base of the sacred Mount Naydea-de rear the coast of the Border Waters. Mount Naydea-de is the supposed residence of the gods of the Mehl. They lived, however, under the mountain, whose peak poked into the clouds on some days. Natto was a rare Mehl that had ventured out of the Naydea-de Valley and had experienced the other peoples of the island, Flaventia. The Tash, in the north, were renown for their animal husbandry. In the east the people of the Haseel Woods were excellent wood craftsmen and, accordingly to legend, were accomplished seafaring people who had made a journey to the Great Northern Land many years ago. The Mehl, Tash, and Haseel live in peaceful isolation with each other, save the infrequent traveler, such as Natto Auh.
Natto got out of his tent and began to sharpen his spear. What a crude weapon he thought to himself. For the ceremony, the Mehl did not use the hardened steel that was in use for centuries previously, they used sharpened flint, as their ancestors did. As he sharpened the flint to a finer point, Natto began the Hunt Mantra, a prayer to the Hunt God Fleisher.
Lead the spear to the Heart.
Make the death its Start.
Leave my people and me the flesh.
And you may devour the rest.
The Mantra had focused his mind on the spear. He did not notice his fellow Mehl stir about the camp. At last, the sun had reached very tip of the Old Stone. The Mehl had access to timekeeping instruments such as sundials and minute glasses for more precise time measurement, yet on this day, every year, they relied on the Old Stone to tell them what time it was. They all quietly set out, from the camp to the field. Both of these were permanent fixtures, despite every effort to make the camp look nomadic and the field to look wild and untamed, the fact that the main settlement, complete with houses, a magnificient temple, and the Praciiduntu’s house, their main chief, was still in the line of sight from both camp and field. It didn’t matter. Those were relics of the future. As the Mehl walked down to the Field of Fopliks, they recalled and said a prayer for every person they knew who had died in their lifetime. Therefore, the first one to the field, called the Yoi, was considered the least grief stricken, and was required to haul any of the Foplik meat caught that day back to the camp. The last person to arrive in the field, called the Grei, was regarded with utmost respect and given extra meat at the feast that night. However, traditionally, the Grei gave their extra meat to the Yoi as a sign of thanks for bringing the meat and symbolic of the importance of an innocent mind over that which has seen death.
That day they had only caught one Foplik. Flint spears are very hard to use, that is why the Yoi’s duty is not usually backbreaking. The men of the tribe cooked the meat and they feasted all night until the sun arose again. Then everyone packed up their belonging from the permanent camp and went back to their homes made of stone, their temples with glass windows, and their markets full of Foplik meat caught with steel. It was Temple Day today. Rarely does a Temple Day fall on the day after feasting, but one is expected to go to every Temple Day.
The Temple, however, was rather empty. So the High Priest of the Naydea-den began with a prophecy while waiting for stragglers. The prophecy fascinated Natto. One day a wondrous city will rise above our land, supported by the very clouds that float so lightly above us. And from their, the Mehl will prosper and oversee a kingdom that expands from the Border Waters to the Great Blueness. A floating city! Natto had heard this prophecy many times. No one gave much attention to it, it was a childrens story. The Mehl had never displayed a thirst for conquering, let alone subjugating the many peoples of this land. However, Natto was entranced.
Natto Auh awoke to find the morning fog still clinging to the tents of his tribe’s camp. Today the Mehl would be off on their annual ceremonial hunt. The ceremony was paramount to the Mehl and their connection to the past. They had perfect knowledge of agriculture and animal domestication. Their knowledge of warfare was sufficient enough for them to ward off invaders, but the Mehl were never known for ferocity and thus they remained rather isolated and settled around the base of the sacred Mount Naydea-de rear the coast of the Border Waters. Mount Naydea-de is the supposed residence of the gods of the Mehl. They lived, however, under the mountain, whose peak poked into the clouds on some days. Natto was a rare Mehl that had ventured out of the Naydea-de Valley and had experienced the other peoples of the island, Flaventia. The Tash, in the north, were renown for their animal husbandry. In the east the people of the Haseel Woods were excellent wood craftsmen and, accordingly to legend, were accomplished seafaring people who had made a journey to the Great Northern Land many years ago. The Mehl, Tash, and Haseel live in peaceful isolation with each other, save the infrequent traveler, such as Natto Auh.
Natto got out of his tent and began to sharpen his spear. What a crude weapon he thought to himself. For the ceremony, the Mehl did not use the hardened steel that was in use for centuries previously, they used sharpened flint, as their ancestors did. As he sharpened the flint to a finer point, Natto began the Hunt Mantra, a prayer to the Hunt God Fleisher.
Lead the spear to the Heart.
Make the death its Start.
Leave my people and me the flesh.
And you may devour the rest.
The Mantra had focused his mind on the spear. He did not notice his fellow Mehl stir about the camp. At last, the sun had reached very tip of the Old Stone. The Mehl had access to timekeeping instruments such as sundials and minute glasses for more precise time measurement, yet on this day, every year, they relied on the Old Stone to tell them what time it was. They all quietly set out, from the camp to the field. Both of these were permanent fixtures, despite every effort to make the camp look nomadic and the field to look wild and untamed, the fact that the main settlement, complete with houses, a magnificient temple, and the Praciiduntu’s house, their main chief, was still in the line of sight from both camp and field. It didn’t matter. Those were relics of the future. As the Mehl walked down to the Field of Fopliks, they recalled and said a prayer for every person they knew who had died in their lifetime. Therefore, the first one to the field, called the Yoi, was considered the least grief stricken, and was required to haul any of the Foplik meat caught that day back to the camp. The last person to arrive in the field, called the Grei, was regarded with utmost respect and given extra meat at the feast that night. However, traditionally, the Grei gave their extra meat to the Yoi as a sign of thanks for bringing the meat and symbolic of the importance of an innocent mind over that which has seen death.
That day they had only caught one Foplik. Flint spears are very hard to use, that is why the Yoi’s duty is not usually backbreaking. The men of the tribe cooked the meat and they feasted all night until the sun arose again. Then everyone packed up their belonging from the permanent camp and went back to their homes made of stone, their temples with glass windows, and their markets full of Foplik meat caught with steel. It was Temple Day today. Rarely does a Temple Day fall on the day after feasting, but one is expected to go to every Temple Day.
The Temple, however, was rather empty. So the High Priest of the Naydea-den began with a prophecy while waiting for stragglers. The prophecy fascinated Natto. One day a wondrous city will rise above our land, supported by the very clouds that float so lightly above us. And from their, the Mehl will prosper and oversee a kingdom that expands from the Border Waters to the Great Blueness. A floating city! Natto had heard this prophecy many times. No one gave much attention to it, it was a childrens story. The Mehl had never displayed a thirst for conquering, let alone subjugating the many peoples of this land. However, Natto was entranced.