Invent the facepalm. Support Chan(d6xtu) if he will keep the council along as advisers. And listen occasionally.
[4] Your support of Chantututu is noted, and you believe that you'll be an adviser regardless of how he tries to rule, as will others, probably. You will certainly have more time to devote to spiritual matters, which you believe you may have neglected lately.
Search for nearby threats to defend the tribe from.
[2] You locate none, which leaves you with terribly little to do.
I say we need some fruit, a still, some time, and something to distill it to.
When we start making alcohol, propose that I should get back to my tribe to get some gatherer women to help me gather the fruit.
[1] You do not actually use a still, and have absolutely no notion of the existence of ethanol. You merely ferment juice, and this is all you know how to do. And once you explain the principle, the painted tribesmen decide that they can figure out the rest from there on in.
[1] With this in mind, they saw off your legs and leave you to die painfully in the plains, which you eventually do from blood loss. But you do not mind overmuch. You know that death is but an endless, dreamless sleep, and that you've lived a full life before ceasing to exist.
With the last of my strength, pray to the Divine Overseer in hopes of a miracle.
[4] There are no miracles in sight, but you do admit the prayer makes you feel a little better. Gives you strength. And with this smidgen of strength, you continue onward through a wooded area, only to scare off a wolf eating some kind of larger animal by accident. You quickly make a fire and eat some of it, and soon you feel a bit better.
((Almost literally rofl here. I'm pretty sure that that Chantutu won't last long as chief, though, so don't worry too much.))
Chantututu gives the elder that is smearing excrement on the ground his blessing, asking only that the man engage in an earth spirit dance afterwards to ensure the venture's success. He also creates a "Council of Happy Dancers" to advise him and Lanku on important tribal matters. Naturally, he communicates all this through dance.
[1] Your continual dancing, while amusing at first, does not quite seem an appealing idea to any of the prospective council members (except Clangbunk), and just like that, the illusion of competence, this in-joke gone a little too far, starts to feel patently ridiculous, and people begin to wonder if there are not indeed better candidates for the chief's position.
Thinking back to when my older brother warned me about psychedelic fungi, I examine the mushrooms to assure myself that they are not dangerous.
"Um... D-do you speak? How long have you been here?"
I consider he may be literate, and decide to write on a wall,
"How long have you lived here?"
[3] You quickly realize that he does not recognize either your language or your writing - indeed, the writing seems to confuse him incredibly, and he immediately wipes it off the soft wall, wagging his finger at you while looking a tad disturbed by your actions. In addition, you are not from around here, so you have no idea if these mushrooms would be good to eat - you do notice the old man seems to still be functioning well, so you guess they shouldn't hurt you or anything.
Go to the Heads, and ask from which village the women and children came from, it may lead to clues formally unseen
[5] From the Fisher Tribe, obviously. Hence why they were captives - if regular tribesmen of the Heads were to be kidnapped, there would be blood, of that there can be no doubt. Right now, only mistrust and great displeasure have been provoked.
Prepare the women for baby raising.
[4] While your advice is of dubious use, it does give the women the bright idea of pooling their resources and knowledge for the task, and they share all that they know and own with one another, and nominate the first and second most experienced among them as midwife and her deputy, respectively. This eases some concerns.
A COMMOTION? WHAT HAPPENED TO THEIR PRISONERS, WITH THE VALUABLE GEAR?
I WILL CHECK UP ON THE OTHER TRIBE IN THE AREA, TOO. HOW ARE THEY DOING?
MEANWHILE, IT COULDN'T HURT TO RIG UP SOME MORE TRIPWIRES AND SNARES AROUND MY LITTLE PATCH, JUST IN CASE ANYONE COMES LOOKING FOR MY RECENT VICTIM. ENSURE I HAVE ADEQUATELY DISPOSED OF/HIDDEN HIS REMAINS AND ANYTHING THAT MIGHT BE RECOGNIZED AS HIS
CONSIDER WHETHER I KNOW ENOUGH OF THE TRIBE'S LANGUAGE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THEM, OR NOT
CONSIDER WHICH OF MY OWN REFINED CUSTOMS AND BELIEFS WOULD BE MOST OFFENSIVE TO THESE BUMBLING PRIMITIVES, WERE I TO INITIATE CONTACT WITH THEM
[6] The prisoners are gone, and the other tribe seem to retreat as well over the next week or so - they do not return, but you do notice certain animals come back to the area now that they're not being scared off regularly. You suspect something may have happened, considering the significantly improved mood in the delta tribe.
[4] Anyway, you set some traps around the area of the murder you performed, dispose of all the evidence you reasonably can, and then turn your attention toward the delta tribe again. Perhaps you can finally make your grand entrance.
[2] Unfortunately, however, you know nothing of their language. And from what you can tell of the tribe idiot's dancing, they do really hate foreigners regardless of customs and creed. So perhaps just going over there and introducing yourself isn't the best idea
Gather some supplies and go out to sea.
[2] Your raft, such as it is, is woefully inadequate for any forays into the sea, given the number that waves can easily do to it - returning home, you ponder how to correct this.
go talk to my daughter
[5] Your daughter does seem to be keeping up the optimism. She's not been talking about Plok much this past month, which you take as a good sign. Overall, your conversation goes well, and though you find out little of true interest, it's nice to go and talk to her anyway. Family time is always good, after all.
Make a new boat, using [blazing glory]'s as a baseline now that mine is destroyed.
[1] You spend the better part of two days trying to imitate your fellow raftsman's design, only to realize that it would be completely useless at sea once you're nearly done via a demonstration by none other than Hatika himself, who nearly loses the raft on his first expedition. Angered, you destroy your work in a fit of rage and elect to spend the rest of the day drinking instead.
Haphan takes his time coming home. When he arrives, he shares his story with the tribe and compliments Tuktu for his bravery.
[2] You do indeed take your time. But the lack of stress is good for you, you think.