Civilisation: The Just Silks
Civ Supplies: 5 Security; 2 Food
Gatherer Camp - Riverbend
Concerning the travels of Conibo Ruyavaaslefi, Outpost Liason
By the second year there were those who felt that Islandbrush was too small for our growing numbers. Amongst these was Alatha Roarthorn, a young acolyte whom the Druid picked out to lead the first band of immigrants. Her band, the Static Nature, were given instructions to bless the forests north of our capital of Islandbrush within the expanse of the Massive Jungles. They made camp at the bend of the brook Tongsbasins where it travelled south and west from the Veiled Beak mountains. After their chosen site, they named their new home Riverbend.
1st Granite, 3
Alatha dug her toes into the soft soil by the brook's edge, feeling the sand curl around her skin. She could feel the Force here, not as strong as in Islandbrush, but nevertheless she knew that Alino's presence extended to these grounds. Alatha stood there for a time, feeling the wind caress her golden locks and the sun warm her peach skin, already tanned from the warm climes of Islandbrush.
A soft coughing caught her attention and she turned her bright blue eyes to a short, skinny figure with bright orange hair. The ginger elf grinned and nodded toward the solitary camel that had dragged their scant provisions forth.
"So are we unpacking yet?" he asked in a quick, halting accent.
"In a minute, old friend," sighed Alatha. "We do have some time to enjoy the sun, Yemeni."
"Not nearly enough for my liking," chuckled Yemeni, and a dark shadow flickered across his face. He forced it away. "One year, the druid said, and we need at least a hundred and fifty Rists of food or the whole venture's bust."
"Such enthusiasm for industry," snickered a mossy-haired elf busy unloading barrels of the potent alcohol smackdown from the decidedly irritable camel. She dodged a spittoon from the animal and blew a raspberry at it, then winked at Yemeni. "One would almost think you used to be a dwarf."
"Shut your mouth, Taviti," snapped Yemeni, giving her a black look.
"Indeed," said Alatha. "Let us leave the past as the past. After all, we fought for a new world for a reason, did we not? Now, let us get to unloading. We should start with the altar and pool."
5th Granite, 3
A human would have looked at their altar and scoffed - an old tree trunk and a deadwood log, flanked by a pair of green saplings. A human would have expected a great temple of marble, filled with golden statues and its altar draped in silk and finery. A human would not understand.
Alatha had known the tree whose trunk had died, the bough that had broken. She had cultivated those saplings from seeds. They were brought fresh from the fertile soil of Islandbrush and held a spark of Alino within them. It was by this altar tha the Force would extend to fill this grove, as water would fill a jug.
Alatha rose from the altar, her communion complete - Alino's bond to this place had been strengthened by its construction. She glanced back to where Yemeni was busy digging another pool in the ground to be filled with water, then blessed by her touch. Already the first pool was filled and blessed, and she approached it as the others paused in their work to gather and watch.
An oak bough was brought to her, a limb of an old tree that still lived, yet had suffered the brunt of the world's renewal. Alatha held it reverently, speaking soft words in their native tongue to ease its passing and thank it for its noble sacrifice, then laid it in the pool so tha the gentle breeze would cause the ripples of water to wash over its surface many times.
Time passed, the sun moved in the heavens, and Alatha lifted the bough. Sunlight glimmered brightly on its golden surface, and she handed it to Yemeni to prepare.
19th Granite, 3
Several idols had now been carved at the altar, worked into a variety of shapes of beast and elf alike. Alatha picked up the first of the group, a figurine of a bat carved from the golden wood. She knelt by the pool once again, whispering into the wind.
Alino, o Force that guides us,
All things must die, that life may live again.
But as things die, you hold the promise of renewal.
A rebirth, not as we were before,
But as fresh life, novel and unblemished.
Behold this body, who passed from life,
Who surrendered himself to be born again.
See the dedication wrought into it,
Witness the worth that we bring.
Let your Force flow into this vessel,
Let it live anew.
Alatha lowered the idol into the water and splayed her fingers upon the ground. She listened with her fingers, feeling the Force's tentative spread, the gentle swell so subtle one could not know it rose from soft whispers to a crescendo until it had already come to pass. Alatha surrendered herself to the Force and It allowed her to guide it.
The gold flaked away from the idol's surface, dissipating into the crystal clear water until it sparkled like the most coveted of gems and leaving the plain wooden surface beneath. Then, with infinite slowness, the tiny carved bat spread its wings. The wings stretched outward, twisting and lengthening even as its feet elongated and thickened into roots. The sapling stretched and grew until the Force had done its work. When three hours had passed, a young tree stood in the soft silt of the druid's pool, waiting to be grown into a home.
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Druidry - providing a renewable source of wood since Ur 3!