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[nearlyNonexistent]

Click for infopage. Click here for OOC.


Scientists estimate the universe to be around 14 billion years old and that life is 3.5 billion years old. Assuming there are billions of planets out there, life has had billions of opportunities to start.


While many scientists on Earth believe that Earth is rare for being able to support life they are only half-right. It is rare that Earth has life in that area of space. The "fertile crescent" of the universe is on the opposite side from Earth, and many planets have life in that area.


You are among the first of the sapient species on a few planets in that area. Your people have lived in caves for an amount of time, but now you are forming a civilization. Can your civilization stand the test of time, and can it find its siblings of the stars?



The rules:

• Research or long projects:
     Research and long projects work by writing down what you're doing and how many posts you have to make to finish completing it. "Gunpowder: 1/2" would work if it takes 6 months to invent gunpowder. Just decide reasonable times.
• Time:
     Each post is equal to 3 Earth months, though Earth calendars don't exist here. As such, you can only do things that  could have happened over the course of 3 months in a single post; other actions need to be split up. Universal time must also be posted.
• Population:
     Population summaries in each post, as detailed as you want. At least just "Total population:
• ". You could split it by province or city if you want.
• Battle:
     If two civilizations battle they must post basic "army stats" before the battle.
• Moderatorship:
     The OP is not the moderator in any regards. All moderation actions are done through OOC votes with all players. Majority rule.
• Telephoning:
  Technological growth, project progress and population growth can only occur in a non telephoned post. A telephoned post is defined as any post that does not have 3 different people posting between the civilization's previous post. This will be an example and will bold telephoned posts to point them out:
  
  
  NN
  Varee
  NN
  Rolepgeek
  IamanElfCollaborator
  Varee
  NN
  IamanElfCollaborator
  
  The main purpose of still allowing telephoned posts is to make communication more rapid, but technological progress keep everyone more together.
  
  
  If this gets too constraining we will reduce it to 2.

Civilization sheet:

• Name of species and civilization:
• Picture and/or physical description:
• Racial characteristics: (e.g. flight, other unique attributes)
• Racial biography: (personality, short back-story)
• Location: (this would take picking a planet in a solar system, then a location on the planet's map. Maps would be made if people are interested.)
• Technology: (write "tribal era" and add the extra technology you'd like to have)

You start out with one city that has a defensive wall, city hall, and some basic structures.

Unofficial Official Waitlist:

• Urist Mc Dwarf

[nearlyNonexistent]

Cree Conglomerate
Sleep cycle 1, minicycles 1 through 3.


((One sleep cycle = one season. Minicycle = 1 month. This note will not be in further posts. The next post by anyone would be the equivalent of the next 3 months on the calendar.))


We are numbered one hundred.


Secrets:

• The Forbidden Secret of Basic Metallurgy: 1/2

While plotting through the night, eventually we came to a decision. We would form a permanent alliance. A larger alliance. A Conglomerate of alliances. The beasts have been much more stubborn in their attempts to crack us open recently, and many young had been gulped up.


However, a Conglomerate would allow for us to advance. Create. Discover new ways to plot... and new ways to be plotted against. It was a frightening concept, but we understood that if everyone worked together it would be a net positive increase for us... we could always hate each other in secret.


That is the story of the beginning of the Conglomerate. Since then we have discovered a way to carve the obsidian around us into housing, though slowly. It suits us that it is incredibly slow when one works alone; many of us can work together to accomplish the task faster. And once such feats were audible to all Cree, this made the Conglomerate swell in numbers... from fear of course.


It's rather terrifying when you have to watch out for marauding creatures and your neighbor that hates you does not, and can devote much more of their time to plotting your demises.






In the second sleep cycle, I was officially declared leader of the Conglomerate. The Conglomerate started out as a simple mob rule, nothing more than everyone agreeing to not kill each other (yet), building defensive walls to keep out the non-flying beasts, and all having silently mutually agreed to kill each other once the walls were done. Politics were created.


Now, essentially, the Conglomerate developed a form of rule; democracy where rigging is encourgaed. Through assassinations, bribery, befriending, and other such tactics, I became the Head Cree. I am the highest rank in the Cree Council, and so I was under constant suspicion and assassination attempts from the other councillors.


Then I showed them I was right for the job by publicly killing the entire council. I had developed a slight resistance to a virus that plagued many other Cree, and then I had filled the voting pool with it. It was a horrifyingly painful moment for all, but all of the councillors died. Now the council is a very trimmed down ordeal, with only a special few Cree I distrust a bit less than the others, that I specifically selected to infight with themselves than me.






By the third sleep cycle, my politics paid off, and the Conglomerate became a true ordered tribe. We had set up what we called Contemplatives; usually, the older Cree would starve to death as they became too weak to hunt. Now, however, they are kept alive beyond their usual lifespan by us feeding them... in exchange they devote their entire minds to researching a specific topic. We have only a few of these wretches, but they're already paying off.

[Rolepgeek]

Hurmdean Empire
Star cycle 2, tidecycles 4 through 6.

((I hope this is exceedingly obvious what it means))

I count nearly one hundred and forty of us, now.


Knowledge:

• The Newest Knowledge of Beast Herding: 1/2

The fighting has gone on for too long. I decide that I will change this. There is too little food, and too many predators, to allow ourselves to be divided any longer. My tail hums with anticipation at the battles to come, the glory inherent in this unification. I shall lead a new peoples. A single people, united, whom will be as my kits. I will nurture and direct them, until they shall live without my guidance, free to guide the next generation as they see fit. So shall it be.


First, I must gather others to my cause. I must make them see why this is good. I have gathered up a few dozen within my tail-coils, now, and they will help me to break the chieftains of the other tribes. So shall it be.

During first tidecycle, the first of the tribes joined happily, understanding the benefit in joining forces. The next two joined from fear of our newfound power, and rightly so. But the fourth was not so easy to subsume. It pains me to see so many of our number dead, and I weep for the loss, when we are so few, even as I consume their flesh to empower myself and my kin. I swear to gather the rest of my people with the least violence possible. So shall it be.

In second tidecycle, I united the last stragglers to our cause. I am made Emperor of the Destrachen. It is the Hurmdean Empire, so named in honor of my grandfather, Hurmde. May his spirit watch over and give guidance to his descendants in all that they do. I am challenged every cycle for my throne, and every cycle, I kill the challenger, crushing him within my tail in a warrior's death. I honor them by devouring their corpses and making their spirit one with the Empire. I am no longer a Destrach. I am the Destrachen Empire given form. So shall it be.

I appoint several of our number to thinking and watching; they look at the animals we chase and kill and eat, to see if we can make them come to us, to be eaten more easily. Others I ask to build shelter, from the storms and winds, and to protect us from predators. They all willingly obey. I am the Emperor. My word is Law. So shall it be.

In third tidecycle, the shelters are made; we have melted flake-stone, and as the stone burned away, it left metal behind. I have everyone work on this, including me. I must show unity, to set an example for all Destrachen. We use the metal, called iron by the Learning Ones, and shape it carefully, hammering with tail and fist, with stone and harder-metal, until it takes shape. Long, flat pieces make a wall around our new home, anchored into the ground. Other plates, in different shapes, make our shelter, wide at the bottom and pointed at the top. I have set some to learning how to do this, and practicing; new kitlings come, and they will need homes, when they are grown. So shall it be.

One animal becomes hard to find. The Shelled Swimmers are seen rarely. They were not easy prey, and will not be missed. It is tiring to pry their shells open, for scant meal. Though, we have found a new way to kill them, easier; if one is patient, and smashes the joints of their limbs with a strong stone or piece of metal, a Destrach can wrap their tails around them until they grow warm, and their shells soft. Then we can squeeze them until they are dead, and it becomes easy to clean the inside, for a meal to be shared with kin. I send some of our number to see where they go now, that we might keep them there and hunt them there, and let more plump animals feed where they once did. So it shall be.

[10ebbor10]

The Hive
Gathering season, lunar cycles 7-9

The Hive consists of one queen, 20 drones,100 warriors and 300 workers.

Knowledge:
- Agriculture 1/3


With winter rapidly approaching, the workers of the Hive are tirelessly making preparations, gather fruit, nuts and seeds, bringing down entire trees to reinforcing the towering spires of the hive. The days are growing short however, and danger is ever present.

No day passes or the warriors have to fight back the many animals seeking shelter within the hive. They're killed without remorse, and their flesh will be a valuable addition to our stockpiles. In time perhaps, a more efficient solution to this problem might arise, but for now, it does not yet exist.

The worst dangers however, are the cold and the rain. The cold turns our movement sluggish and makes our wings brittle leaving us an easy prey for our enemies. The rains disperse our pheromones, and so destroy the trails our workers make. Without coordination, the workers easily get lost.

The ninth lunar cycle is now almost complete. The light is scarce, and the cold is coming. Workers carrying fruits and seeds are stumbling, dropping them unto the ground. We have ceased to gather them, as we have already lost to many, and while the workers will not survive the winter, they're needed to maintain the hive to their death.

[smurfingtonthethird]

Kopaka's Brood
Tides 59 through to 150
((tides take one day as opposed to 12 hours))

There are a hundred of us, and four broodmothers.

Knowledge:

• Basic Crystalworking: 1/2

Koharu have always moved with the herds. Cave to cave, we've taken them to the best food, the safest places, the warmest places. We fight to keep these places, we scheme to take them. It has been so for centuries. But Koharu will move no longer. Four broods have come together as one here, in the largest cave, and we shall grow our herds and improve our children together.

A Koharu has taken some of the black crystals that cover the ceiling of the black caves, and thrown them deep into the ice. An impressive feat, and his breeding ranking was slightly improved, but the crystals seemed to do most of the work. We kept throwing them at things, and they seemed able to cut a lot of things, except black cave rocks. The crystals were made even sharper after we broke them.

We have more than enough food, as naught in cave dares hunt us in these numbers. In water, however, our enemies are many, and we can only forage in the shallower water safely. The food the foragers bring in is welcome, though, as it provides us with more variety.

It is now the 150th tide we have counted, and we are mostly settled in. We had carved out caves for our families, and large caves decorated with crystal for the broodmothers. The black crystals appear to be very useful for cutting through the ice, so a Koharu has learned to split them in half, to create spines for cutting with. His rank in the breeding pool was greatly increased.

[Varee]

Bloon Flock
cycle 1
Bloons ~220


Development


           - Pressure resistant 1/3


Floating higher is good but floating too high hurts. Floating too high hurt but floating too high is interesting. Some survive some don't. Floating up and up there something up there, further and further and the larger we get. Many disappear, other returned. There something up there, something different, something .... new. We all feel it, we all know it , we all want it, but it hurts. Some of us dropped down, there nothing down bur go down hurt too. it not the same go down we shrink go up we inflate.


Some of us drift out, searching for somthing. nothing around only up. so we go up slowly we all go out. We can feel it, some moreso than other we will go out, go up, go down. Thoses that feel less pain are better, we live and we learn. More energy, more strength, less pain. we need to go higher, we need to be strong.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

Konsoda Skalar Dir Rasmuso (Skalkr Consortium, under the Son of Rasmus)
Menali Rif vu Senk (Equivalents of the first month of the year to the third, three months have passed)

There are two hundred and twenty of us. Some able men, other elders.

Knowledge:

• Basic Metallurgy: 1/2

Now is a new dawn for the Skalar*. Long years have passed since the days we cowered in fear of the wretched unserim that once preyed upon us. Now we prey upon them. We stack their skulls up high at night and partake of their flesh. It is only payback for the fear they have given us. We have a stronghold now. A fort. It is only basic, crafted from the skins of our prey, and the tough wood of the senk-rima. We have to take care not to burn down the entire place.

The desert is harsh, and unforgiving. Many of our kin have died to settle this land. Many have been born in this land. What food we find, we kill or find in those rare juicy fruits that grow upon the hardy bushes of this land. We have settled near a river in the cool shadow of the mountains; the river itself descends from there, and that is a gift from whatever force governs the world.

And with the mountains came a discovery. One of our comrades, Olar Stenso, found a strange rock, green in color, during his foraging near the mountains to find fruit. Mistaking it to be an egg of some unknowable creature, he threw it into the fire to cook- careless fool.
I must thank him, as it led to a different discovery. The rock melted- that is right, melted- to create some form of strange, orange substance that was hard and tough. Nothing like rock nor wood. As I write, I have sent out groups of able-bodied Skalar to gather the strange rock from the caves or mountains. We must have more. Already, one has had the bright idea of presenting me with a crude knife made from Olar's rock- I have it with me as I write. I plan on using it to hunt tomorrow and see what this ore is worth.

Some of our comrades are complaining about headaches for an unknowable reason. Perhaps it is this strange rock? Regardless, I see it as a passing illness. It will go soon.

The unserim no longer prey upon us. We have a land we may now call our own. The future if the Skalar is bright.

And I, Swen Rasmuso*, shall lead it to one.

(-the rest is too dirty or ripped to translate-)
*Rasmuso is transliterated as Rasumussen or son of Rasmus.
*Skalar is an archaic word for the Skalkr people with no literal translation. The closest is 'children of the sand'.
*Unserim means, roughly, 'people-eaters'. A modern translation is often predator.
*Senk-rima is translated as 'sand-roots', an unusual, wood-like found in the desert.
*Transliterated as Sven Rasmussen, one of the first recorded leaders of the Skalkr people.

((Wanted to try this in the style of a historical journal. If it was too overblown, feel free to tell me; it was just an experiment.))

[nearlyNonexistent]

Cree Conglomerate
Sleep cycle 1, minicycles 18-21.


((I am /assuming/ that we're all in the same time position or this is confusing. @_@


Also we don't really have joints, but hitting it anywhere would deafen it so that works I guess. The only real thing that sticks out of the shell are the pinholes, that small hole on the front for gathering magma, and the pincer mouth.))


We are numbered one hundred and thirty-five. The children are numbered fifty.




Secrets:

• The Forbidden Secret of Basic Metallurgy uncovered.

After many months, the contemplatives finally produced a terrible, dark secret. The power of metallurgy, the ability to shift metals into liquid... and destroy our shielding in the process. By jetting magma into a small obsidian-carved chamber, the pressure builds up the heat, allowing it to melt iron in the process. I took this secret for my own. A small obsidian pit was made. The black rocks that burned slowly were placed in there, along with a large amount of the raw iron ore we consume to grow our shielding. I placed a small amount of magma in the pit, starting the iron to melt...


Using a small obsidian cup, I took the liquid and put it in another pan in the shape of a spike, and let the iron cool...  This spike was then sharpened upon the rocks, and I used it to stab straight through the armor of the now ex-contemplative. I called a conglomerate meeting and held aloft the spike, and fear was known to all.


And now that my power is cemented, I shall share my name: Crkkrstkuu, the word for "entirety".




The log of the scouting party


It is the subject of curiosity whether the beasts, which often have thrown large objects at us and wrapped us in death coils, have figured out which direction we fled from their kind. A scouting party has been sent out, and we are that party. We are numbered three, and they are:

• Kruk, "magnetite", the captain of the party and yours truly.
• Cruukstr, "mantle", the left flanker. Plan A for them is to throw her to the beasts if we find them. Plan B is to throw her straight off a cliff. Plan C is to get her lost in the tunnels, where they should hopefully starve.
• Rkkck, "rock", the right flanker. Plan A is to breed with her, causing her to become indebted to me for my gift of carrying their spores. Plan B is to convince her to kill Cruukstr, and so blackmail her with my testimony. I do not have a plan C for such a manipulable wretch[size=78%].[/size]

So far we are going down the magma river we fled to here from, to go to the lower sea where we used to live.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

Konsoda Skalar Dir Rasmuso (Skalkr Consortium, under the Son of Rasmus)
Menali Dayk vu Zhel ((3 months))

There are three hundred and sixty of us now. Much has changed.

Knowledge:

• Basic Metallurgy: completed.
• Stoneworking: 1/2

The rock Olar found so many months ago has served us well. Very well. Soon after his discovery we sent many down to the caves he wandered by to find such things and gather more of them. Obviously, we used much better methods than tossing it into a cooking fire. Stone bowls had to be hewn; wood burned too quickly- to gather the molten substance, the substance we call Olarrir- Olar's Rock-, rather imaginatively. We have already armed some of our hunters with it and are attempting to use it to gather more by creating sharp tools to rend the stone where it is found apart. We must have more of this Olarrir. More.

With the expanding of our Konsoda*, we must have more leaders.  I have appointed the idiot Olar- as simple-minded as he is, he at least knows his way around manipulating the rock he found- as the leader of the Olarrir-crafters. We do not know what to call them yet. As for the hunters and the builders, I appointed Snorri and Guspa as their leaders. And those few who know the ways of the one above, I have appointed Locki.

The stronghold is getting better. Since we have hewn the stones themselves from the caves, we have strengthened the buildings with stones. We find it more resilient for the sandstorms than mere Unserim-skin and wood. One of our enterprising young lads, Kirro, figured out how to improve the heads of our spears with Olarrir, and make something more ornate and useful.
I have told him to show others. This craft of stone will be of use.

I have also seen the river's waters sweep up to the banks and within the banks, create a sort of mud, or else wash some mud up to it, with what look to be plants I have never encountered before within it. I will investigate it at a later time.

The headaches of some of our people seem to be getting worse. Those who know of healing cannot soothe them. I cannot understand why.

Otherwise, for now, life remains difficult. Much of our settlement was blown down in a sandstorm; nobody died, thankfully. Some were killed in the attacks by unserim or otherwise in the caves by something unknown. Either way.....and of course, food is not plentiful. The dry season of the desert is at its harshest. The river we live by is thankful respite, but nonetheless, many thirst.

Still, I have hope.

[Rolepgeek]

Hurmdean Empire
Star cycle 9, tidecycles 25 through 27.

I count more than two hundred and thirty of us, most recently.


Knowledge:

• The New Knowledge of Beast Herding: Known
• The Newest Knowledge of Tool-Making: 0/2

Our peoples have grown. Many more outsiders swell our ranks, and children are born every day. We understand, now, how to make the beasts of the plain do as we please, and go where we wish. It is not always easy. But we can keep them in enclosures, formed by the iron plates, so that they may be found easily when the time for eating is near. I still must slay the challengers to my throne, and they still come to me every tidecycle. In time, perhaps, they will grow more few. I hate to slay a member of our people every month, even as their spirit empowers us with the victory feast afterwards. I know not how to change this, though. If I refuse the challenges, I will be seen as weak, not the true Emperor, and cast down, or killed as I sleep. It will remain as it is, for now. For now, so shall it be.

We have seen the Shelled Swimmers once more. A group of three investigates us. We know not why. I have dispatched hunters to encircle them and trap them; we will direct them like any other brute beast. Then we shall take them, and see if they can breed for us, so we can eat them as well. Their young are easy to eat, and we will not have to wait long, I should think. The nearby lake should do nicely for the purpose, if we block the river-mouths with iron in a pattern too strange for them to escape through. The Learning Ones call this a 'fence'. I shall have to see if it works. So shall it be.

The village has grown, and more structures must be erected all the time. We have not enough iron to build them. So I command the Learning Ones to find a way to make us more iron. They propose using iron to get iron, by smashing cliffs until rocks filled with iron fall off. I ask them of breeding the Shelled Swimmers and using their hides for armor when we eat them. They say that is good too. So shall it be.

I have taken a wife and a dirtha, and they has born children to me. Two, only, but the dirtha is with child now, and should give healthy birth. I take no consort as other chieftains once did; I am no chieftain. I am Emperor. I must be an example to my people. We must grow in number, and consorts do not allow us to grow. My dethcea is named Bavrneyt, and my son, Haldfla. They will grow strong, like our people. If they are worthy, they will rule when I am dead and my spirit watches the Empire from afar. So shall it be.

Memories Of The Hunting Party, Sent To Herd The Shelled Swimmers

They escape us yet again! I know not how they predict us every time, for there are eight of us, and we take turns leading to try and trick them. These are cunning beasts, of that there is no doubt. But they are more agile than us in the water, and it is hard to keep them from swimming past us. Bah. I shall continue the Memories on the next cycle.

Now, though, we make slow progress. We have taken to using thick meryl branches to stop their progress; they are too slow to break them, and their pincers can be smashed by a rock to keep them from cutting them. So we shuffle up the river, every tide cycle forced to stop and send some of our party off to gather the escapee. I see no reason for us to do this, but the Emperor Heildwva has said it should be, so it shall be.

I grow weary of this accursed game, though. If only we could eat one of them, to keep up our strength and ease our burden. Bah.

[Varee]

Bloon flock
~400 bloons
Cycle10

Development

-Pressure resistant 2/3
 -mental connection 1/?

We are smaller, we are stronger , we are further, we are losing? Some now too far, some feel .... Less. We are not strong we are too far, we need stronger connection. We are far now, not too high or too low yet, just far. We can feel it, feel something, feel different. We need to go further, we need to fly, we need to be free, we need to discover. The wind is strong, we can fight it. Higher we go, harder eating gets, we have storage, but it dont last long. We dont go high, not yet we dont. We feel them now, our mind are stronger, we can go further. Some are going away, the wind change way.,we have to be careful, we dont ant to be separated, we need to be one, so wecan develops   together...  One grow bigger, they reproduce faster, fascinating. More we got better we try. We cant be big, big hurt when we go high, but big grow faster, we cant have everything...

[TCM]

Guwaghaii: Collective of the Mountain Peoples
1st Ganja

Populace: 50 members.


Secrets:

• Masonry: 1/2

We have decided to band together, for a reason I know not how to describe. We have never been a people to form unions, but something deep in our souls tells us to do it for some mysterious reason. We predict that this may a message from God. Powerful God stays in the sky all day, showering us with His luminosity an warmth, praise unto him. He lets us see the ground and skies, and provides for us as well. The Ocean is vast and filled with water, but it is tainted, impure liquid, not fit to be drunken. When God delivers us water, it is pure and sustains us with life, filling our bodies with joy and sustenance.

After working, Gods goes to rest, and his sky turns black, a time we refer to as Night. Night is a scary time for us; not only does God go to sleep, but the Wazral people come out of the grounds, resting on their stomachs. They slither across the surface of the land, slimy tongues unraveling from their mouths. They are too fast to fight, and they prey upon both the young and the Hibwutai, both of which lack any forms of defense. We must shelter them as best as we can from the dreaded Wazral, waiting for God to appear and send the Wazral back into their underground caverns. We suspect that the Wazral are scared of God, for he is good.

Walls and structures have been establishments in our people for many generations, though now the younger folk have begun devising ways to improve upon them. They say that they can erect enough buildings so that each person may have one to their own, which I think is a naive thought, but that is the nature of the young. They have a name for their new art, calling it Masonry. I say it is a waste of time when they could be foraging for food, but you surely know how stubborn they are.

We have always lived with the Hibwutai for as long as they can tell, but nowadays they linger among our people much longer than they previously have done. Is there something they want from us? They are useful to us, as they are able to locate the revered Hokkon root which is nearly invisible for our people. Since they are an asset, we will let them stay around.

[nearlyNonexistent]

Cree Conglomerate
Sleep cycle 1, minicycles 30-33.
We are numbered two hundred adults, 50 children.

Secrets:

• The art of committing memory to stone has been developed.

The new contemplative was a brighter bunch than the other, and immediately focused on a method of getting the insipid beasts to realize that we are not to be trifled with. They came up with a form of writing, a way of transcribing our rhythmic metallic groaning into icons... hopefully the beasts with their awful hearing can hear the icons. We will write them incredibly simple and large for them to know. A trained writer has been sent out to the scouting party, with a simple message.


"uuu ceekrsk, strk crusket nunucruknrk!" ("Go pollinate somewhere else you beasts!")



Scouting party log

Well this sucks. We keep getting blocked by the beasts, and we're not allowed to return until we find their home. They're obviously a small camp, for this group is much smaller and behaves... oddly. For some reason they have not eaten us, only broken the edges off our pincers (which hurts like a crusket-ceeksrk but grows back) and blocked us with branches. We would wriggle around on land, but they would only pick us up and put us back in the water.


On the plus side, Cruukstr and Rkkck are getting into arguments. I might get credit for being the only one to return from such a dangerous mission yet.


Several echolocation checks later...

Another member of the Conglomerate is here, claiming they have a way to communicate with the beasts... They used an obsidian chisel to carve odd shapes into the shoreline, we will see what happens.

[Ukrainian Ranger]

The Flock
Major hatching cycle 1, Minor hatching cycles 1-6
(that is male and female eggs hatching times. )

The flock consists of 1 female and 500 males

Knowledge:
- Ecosystem manipulation 1/3
- Military formations 1/3
_______________________________________
The Spring of Death has passed. It was a black event that will remain in mythology of the race forever. New unknown decease has arrived and claimed many males and almost all females. They died in a matter of days, one after another, leaving entire flocks without leadership and means to reproduce. Only one red-feathered Rave survived. Lita is her name. Her fate is to become a mother of entire civilization. The role she is ready to take

Immediately she changed a lot of laws that existed before. Wars for territory became history. Magnificent dogfights between males were banned, too. Instead she directed aggression of the army under her command to predators that may be dangerous for her future daughters

And the war began. Flocks of Raves defended their nests against intruders long before they became sentient. But now they are on the offensive. It is not hunting, it is a Massacre. Large predators are attacked from above using rocks and crude spears, smaller are engaged by swarms of angry Raves. Almost every second male Rave died in that war but the ones who survived learned from the experience slowly learning to employ more and more effective tactics

Soon savannah is overfilled with rotting corpses of once mighty hunters, local ecosystem is ruined and Raves will soon learn from their disrespect to the laws of nature. First daughters of Lita will need to survive collapsing eco-system

[10ebbor10]

The Hive
Gathering season, lunar cycles 37-40

The Hive consists of one queen, 30 drones, 200 warriors and 600 workers.

Knowledge:
- Masonry [starting tech]
- Agriculture
- Mining [1/2]
- Hunting [0/2]
- Animal Husbandry [0/3]

*These are being realized after one another, not concurrent


Once more, the Hive prepares for winter, though we're now stronger than ever. The fruits, seeds, and other materials that were spilled near the Hive have grown into new plants, and the drones now understand. Now, our workers are busy to prepare the hive for winter once more, but with the harvests from the fields, and with the strong trees keeping everything together, this should not be a problem. Our stores are overfilled with food, and it seems even the workers might survive.

The latter is a problem however. Without work, the workers grow restless. Our warriors have to force them inside, for otherwise they would go outside and continue gathering. And though we have enough food, we do not have enough space to store it. The workers  have been directed to expand the Hive, digging tunnels into the Earth. Most certainly, many will die because of this hard labor, but such is the way of the Hive.

In our efforts, we encountered strange underground tunnels. We do not know what creature made them, but they seem to be abandoned. A few workers have followed these tunnels, and they seem to lead to the smoking mountain. For now, we will stay out of them, though the hot air is very comfortable to us.