aww i would rather we not do the generation ending thing but ok
I spend the rest of my life with my pet rabbits caring for them and generally loving them
also nice touch naming them after the fallen
[2] You care for them to the best of your ability, and along the years grow accustomed to their short lifespans and their strange habits. You name the next generation the same as the first, and you often, in times of weakness, like to pretend that they are the same rabbits, and that they love you just as much as you have loved them over the years. This you feel to be a little white lie to yourself, one that you don't particularly mind telling. The alternative to it is loneliness, after all.
(Sounds like a good deal to me.)
The main things I want to do is make the Heads strong again, tame and control the beasts that live here, hopefully recreate a union which appreciates us, and properly colonize the oasis we live in.
(At what age would we be at, bronze age, iron age?)
[5] Under your guidance, the Heads make... well, headway into becoming a strong tribe once more - over the next few generations the Heads tame the beasts of the valley, the ghastly, beefy river beasts excepted, and grow to their former strength and numbers and even surpass it - in the river valley you now dwell in, enterprising souls discover the secret of growing crops after regular floods, and sources of good stone are found further upriver. With all this, the Heads make a successful transition to a more sedentary lifestyle, though the traditions of warfare remain. Another tribe is found further south along the river, called the Ochre Tribe. Their particular specialization appears to be in building and shaping things of stone - with them a union is formed, the Union of the River, and the tribes grow very close and help each other in many ways, including finishing the Shrine of the Heads, a spire that winds up over 12 meters in height and shaped in a vaguely humanoid form. The Ochre Tribe even help paint it with a variety of available pigments they have discovered, and even they seemed impressed with the structure that resulted.
So here they are now, living in their adobe dwellings among the Ochre Tribe, a collection of warriors, craftsmen and farmers grouped around a sizable stretch of the Miraculous River. The tribes have settled down fully, although with the expansion of their numbers certain difficulties have begun to arise with organization - especially now that the last chief of the Heads has died, ending his very competent cooperation with the current chief of the Ochres. This may prove to be a time of upheaval, given the lack of a clear candidate for the next chief.
The former shaman's apprentice lead a revolution of agriculture. No, not in the style of the American revolution, but the style of the industrial one. After finding the best plants to farm (via the guidelines of Guns, Germs and steel), he did just that, farm. He picked the best plants of his farm and planted the seeds that they grew. After seeing how successful that was, some of the former fisher tribe soon started other farms. Soon, farming was in full swing, and all the benefits that can be accessed at this stage were there. Grithclock was soon known to the 2 tribe union to be the god of agriculture (or what-other name) ((is this good?
[4] The revolution of agriculture commences, though not at the rate promised or expected - the land here is somewhat poor and unforgiving of mistakes on the part of the farmer, and this fact over time gave flesh to the idea of Grithclock - the god of agriculture. Grithclock is viewed as the father of humankind, and is perceived as the land itself at the same time - to please him, worthy methods of growing must be designed, and failure implies that Grithclock has not found the farmers in question tenacious or worthy. There is much honor in being a successful farmer based on this, given the difficulty of farming as an occupation, but over the generations certain methods are worked out, and a form of subsistence farming can be devised. Though fishing still forms a significant part of the people's sustenance, farming definitely becomes a close second over time.
But now, the fact of the matter is that there simply aren't as many fish around these parts as there used to be, and people begin to fear a shortfall in the near future. While the stores built up from the Two Tribes' endless efforts to please Grithclock will serve for a while, it is quite troubling that the coast, which has formed the mainstay of local tribes' nourishment since time immemorial, is beginning to become barren.
((What alcohol will be there? Will Meshok be a hero for every person in the world for inventing alcohol? How many times Matikira's corpse has been spit on!? So many questions, so little time!))
Dukud throughout the years became the deadliest fighter on the lone praire, and only because of his invention, the lasso. The Praire Dweller (his legendary name) then married a farmer woman who gave him a son. And many years later, when he got old, he gave his son his lasso. This became the tradition of this family, father giving his son a lasso on his deathbed. The family grew, living in the desert, occasionally going to other cities and tribes for trade. But as years flew by, there wasn't any man able enough to become the head of the group. And to top it all off, a disaster struck. Ocut, a grand grandchild of Dukud, lost his mother, two sisters and brother in a raid of an undisclosed group. In pursuit of revenge, he became...
Tuco!
[1] While you certainly failed at becoming a legend of any kind, simply because there were no people around to appreciate your deeds and work with the lasso, such as it was at times, you did not fail to procreate - while the affair was short-lived, your legacy (though merely on a genetic level) wasn't. Your son's mother cast away the lasso you left her before disappearing one day, ostensibly on a hunt. The next few generations of your kind were rather uneventful, until your great grandchild, a mere teenager by the name of Ocut, was orphaned when his entire family succumbed to a mysterious disease he believes to have been brought in by a traveler from the east. Unable to return to his farm for fear of being laid low himself, he finds himself on a lonely path, one that his great grandfather, who he hadn't heard particularly good things about from his own grandfather, who had elected to become a peaceful farmer just like his mother was.
Arlia becomes progressively more bitter and withdrawn, blaming all of the tribes woes on the din-nehru. Eventually she is treated as a deranged old woman, rather than the wise elder she once was, and people ignore her ramblings.
[3] While it is true that nobody really listens to you by the time of your final years, your myths remain creative in nature, and some of them do survive through the generations, particularly the creation tale and its permutations, which ingrain themselves into the tribal consciousness.
Yun continues his duties as healer, healing everyone, even the din-nehru. He also constantly works against the mistreatment of the din-nehru, harboring a deep grudge for those who enslaved them in the first place.
[6] You manage to argue successfully against the mistreatment of din-nehru in your lifetime, and manage to cite a great deal of evidence for why it is a bad idea - the fact that it breeds so-called "holy warriors" (a phrase that causes disdainful smirks in members of the First Tribe even seventy years later), the way din-nehru slaves tend to run away or rebel if mistreated, and the simple fact that it breeds complacency and lack of compassion in your fellow man - the din-nehru, you explain, still feel pain, hunger and loss, and in truth are not that much different from humankind at all. They are dark reflections, seems to be the consensus reached about your teachings many years later. This breeds altogether nicer working conditions for the din-nehru slaves that trickle in over the coming years - while they are not allowed to partake of fully human privileges, neither does the tribe treat them as tools for their own amusement and means to an end anymore. Some even grow fond of their din-nehru workers.
Bronn, for the remainder if his days, will train to his physical peak, and search the world for great wealths. He'll never love again, as he feels his sister had been taken away, and his family did nothing to help her.
[4] You train to reach your physical peak, and over the years you manage to assemble quite a bit of wealth from the looting of long-forgotten places around the world, eventually retiring from the lifestyle and living a humble life in the city, not in want, but probably not enjoying great prosperity, either. You never really find out what happened to your sister, and eventually you expire relatively calmly, leaving no direct descendants, which you supposed was okay.
Gonjabet Uthon transverses the Northern Nation in despair and destitute, never managing to pick up solid work again, nor getting any success in popularizing his story. On the last day of his life, during the Crescent Moon Celebration, he stores his Stone Tablet in the Great Archive, (a proto-library that preserves important records) in hopes that someone will read all of it someday. When the celebrations are in full swing, he climbs to the top of the Great Archive and stands on the edge of the roof, looking down at the roughly 25-meter drop. He jumps.
In the coming generations, the Northern Nation expands and prospers. Science and technology lead to the beginning of the Iron Age, with Blacksmithing, Agriculture, and Transportation being some of the main fields profiting from the development. A group of scholars, after having way too much to drink one night, accidentally conceive Algebra.
While this is all great, the negative developments come in the rapid expansion of population, with the number of Executive Council members swell from 8 to 14. With this sudden surge in numbers and overall influence, the Executives have begun taking some of the Despot's power, especially with a chain of less capable Despots that had trouble checking the power of the Council. Sure, the Despot still controls much of society, but the Executives have their hands on many economic, cultural and educational aspects. Executives, through the usage of influence and wealth, have begun hiring private armies, bodyguards, spies and assassins. Fighting is not uncommon among the Executives as they wage either explicit or covert warfare against the current Despot, the bourgeoisie whenever they get too strong for the Council's comfort, or most often, rival Executives. This political instability has in turn allowed crime to spike. As the elected Council obtains more power, they form a sort of primitive Parliamentary organization.
Notably, the population of white goats has swelled to the thousands.
In this era of discovery and chaos, a rich, educated Explorer titled Sango Isthbat has acquired a crew and a ship, and aims to set sail and discover new lands beyond what any of his predecessor had found.
[3] The Tablet of Gonjabet Uthon is indeed placed in the Great Archive, though grudgingly, and its keepers are quite unsettled by the source's immediate suicide. Over time, after the scholar who obtained the tablet, possibly inspired, followed in Uthon's footsteps years later, the tablet developed a slightly sinister reputation amongst people working in the Great Archive, though not a sufficiently sinister one to particularly persist aside from a minor legend.
[1] And after several generations, you, Sango Ishbat, have been put to work rowing a galley that is set to explore the coastline southward after an Executive deemed your assets to be procured through a combination of foul sorcery and insidious sodomy and then took them away from you, in what you believe to be an act of either petty revenge for a slight you do not quite comprehend or a desperate grab for resources.
If he won't be rescued, Haphan would spend some time as a prisoner, to ultimately escape and return to his tribe once again. Not one to settle down, he would take several more dangerous expeditions, finding more wonders of nature and meeting different people. He won't die on his deathbed, for sure. If you're feeling generous, allow him to grow old and wiry. Then, he would go on the last trip together with equally old Pallia - never to come back... Who knows where his restless bones would finally find a place to settle down?
[5] Rescued from captivity, the capturing tribe laid low by an invasion of your fellow tribesmen, you do not quite settle down, continuing to scout for over thirty years after this time, fathering five healthy children with Pallia and exploring the surrounding lands with a great deal of care and dedication. You uncover many mysteries of the land around you, and even the place where the first din-nehru slaves escaped to, at which point they are handily annexed by the First Tribe. The contacts with the goat herders go similarly, eventually, particularly after the First Tribe obtains weapons of metal at the tail end of your lifetime. You range far and wide, and provide a wealth of information for the tribe to work with, and many strange tales. And then, one day when all of your children are leading separate lives with their own families, you and Pallia take one last trip into the wilderness, never to return. The other tribespeople find it a fitting end, considering how little they tended to see of you in life, and also of Pallia to an extent.
Apollo continues his efforts to civilize/domesticate the rabbits and replace their urge for human blood and manages to compile all of the research on rabbit behaviors onto stone tablets.
[5] It takes many years and a lot of help on Akkata's part, but you manage to create a fully working rabbit farm - from there on in, breeding and taming rabbits (and, to an extent, other animals), as well as collecting all of your knowledge on them on slabs of stone to preserve for as long a time as possible becomes your life's work, and you cannot say it is unappreciated in your lifetime - the stone slabs are collected in a large circle outside the village, the area declared protected ground (since, with Arlia's rather unfortunate habits, the concept of something being 'sacred' has rather eroded in the tribe's mind, especially with the many rounds of oratory Yun has delivered on the flimsy nature of the excuse of holy duty) and frequented by a great deal of eager learners from the First Tribe both during your time and the generations after that - a stone wall and a rather sturdy roof are built over them with time, to protect them from the weather, and people begin to bring other, related knowledge there as well, and a few tribesmen take up residence there to care for the information recorded within, creating a library of practical knowledge of sorts.
Join with the villagers. Over time, try to make more boats and become a raiding culture, called the Kurgs. Try to get the whole island under our influence.
[2] Despite your best attempts at persuading them to adopt a warlike raiding culture, the Purple Tribe do not really seem to internalize the idea, though they do build more boats to bring more visitors to their island - for it is their island, you discover. No others live here. And so you and your entire crew, somewhat charmed by the Purple Tribe's policy of general nonviolence toward arrivals, work out a system of sorts, where you 'raid' by sailing out to the coast (as you master the art of sailing at last) and attract a few foreign tribespeople to add to the Purple Tribe every year or so. Almost without exception, these people are peacefully assimilated into the Purple Tribe. Including you and your crew, you realize after spending nearly ten years there. The Purple Tribe has become your home, and you have a single devoted consort with several children there, and you honestly see no reason to leave. You never really return to the First Tribe, but you don't particularly care that much, as you ultimately lead quite a happy life.
After your death, the Purple Tribe continues to grow on its own with an influx of both different tribesmen and their own population growth, increasing in size until the island, which has gained the name of the Unknown Island due to the way nobody, for centuries, seems to quite become aware of its exact location, grows too small for them and too mired in agriculture and trade to be properly enjoyed by many. And so the impoverished begin to colonize other islands - the Island of Ash, the Further Islands, the Isle of Flowers, and a few more - they seem to be having a hard time settling in, but that's to be expected in undertakings like theirs.
((Chantututu was a ridiculously effective idiot, even if he did have some problems near the end. He will be missed, but hopefully his love of dance-communication will live on!))
Chantututu manages to nurse some of the din-nehru back to health and lead them to prospect the necessary minerals for bronze. He is known to be a very gentle but fairly effective taskmaster, and the future din-nehru dance parties are much less savage and much more fun. The First Tribe flourishes with the tools they craft from this material.
As the years go on, he becomes slightly more mature, but never stops playing dangerous pranks with Lanku that almost cause disaster. He also never stops dancing, forgoing the use of words entirely. Eventually he has several children, all but a few quite lumpy, with Lanku, who remains Great Thinker of the tribe and expert farmer. The children are all noted for their exceptional interpretive dancing skill and eccentric cleverness. He lives to an old age and does amusing dances to the day he dies.
[3] The prospecting does not go as well as hoped, and it takes the better part of your life to find the promised minerals, although you do learn far more about the rocks beneath the earth than you thought was possible in this time - your knowledge among your peers is unparallelled, and you insist on sharing it purely through dance - while this is of dubious help, the ones who learn from you seem to understand well enough, that is to say that they appear to be interested enough to discover what they can't get out of you themselves. As a taskmaster, you are acceptable, which is far better than the din-nehru left behind could have hoped for, and you do manage quite a few children with Lanku, who, while not as wonderful at dancing as you, still manage respectably well, and you have faith in them eventually becoming masters of the craft until the moment of your death, which you meet while dancing, similar to the rest of the major events you encounter in the latter two thirds of your life. You are greatly respected for your contributions to the finding of copper, tin and several other interesting rocks along the way, and at the end of your days you observe that a majority of the tribe seem to have obtained metal tools of some sort. Even the din-nehru slaves are given some when required.
[2] Lanku, however, has a harder time remaining relevant - most of her ideas seem to be geared toward expansion of things rather than an improvement of quality - she wants more fire, more fields, more seeds and more farmers, and this naturally stymies development of agriculture a tad. While she is still the Great Thinker, she does not escape the fate of Clangbunk in the end - while no doubt respected, she is often more humored than properly listened to in the latter half of her life, and many of her ideas are never realized, possibly unfortunately so.
TRY HARDER!
[3] Your early years are marked by persistent attempts at theft of instruments, many of which were unsuccessful, unfortunately for you. But your determination was ultimately not offset by your daftness, and eventually people allowed you access to sharp objects, at which point you attempted to construct many of the things you hoped to build over the years - while many of these turned out to be largely useless, you get a good invention once in a while. But a father of engineering you most certainly are not, and though you live a long life, your attempts are less fruitful than you hoped, though you do manage to invent a crane, which is the thing most tribesmen know you by and thank you for. So it was far from a wasted life, you think on your deathbed.
Hmm...how to end it...
I suppose the first thing to do would be to rescue Haphan and destroy that warrior tribe. Tuktu will continue leading the tribe for the rest of his life and doing the occasional badass feat, like maybe taming an elephant or something. He will take consorts and have children, training them to be even greater warriors than himself. Perhaps he would even get the tribe to follow him out of respect instead of fear. As Arlia became deranged, he would slowly shift the tribe's view to be less xenophobic, so that they wouldn't freak out when he revealed the secret of their heredity. Using his tribe's prowess in bronzeworking to give them an edge in battle, he would go on to assimilate others tribes around his, either through conquest or negotiation, and build an empire, or at least a coalition of tribes paying tribute to his tribe. Tuktu will pass away in his sleep at an old age, on the day of a great storm. Tribal legends will say that the wind spirit returned to its place, and he shall be worshipped as the Greater Spirit of Conquest and Combat. His oldest son will be elected the next chief.
[4] Your first non-personal campaign of war is quite a success, bringing the southern tribe of din-nehru to its knees, subjugating them and destroying their village all but entirely afterward - the new influx of cheap labor, which is treated with more respect than the previous lot, proves quite helpful. You have several consorts over the years, and quite a lot of children as well - not all of them are fit to be warriors, but you make the best of what you have. The tribe, after the first time you lead them into battle, seem to respect you quite a bit eventually, and as you get on in the years, you make headway toward becoming a reasonably authority figure. Over your lifetime, you manage to make the goat herding din-nehru owe fealty to the First Tribe as well through a combination of trade and intimidation, and the tribe becomes very well situated under your leadership, and that of your sons, grandsons and a particular great grandson after you pass away - while you do manage to die on the day of a storm, your later years have really killed any chance of you being perceived as a wind spirit in human form - after all, as the rather grim example of Arlia proves, nobody really cares about the spirits all that much if it compromises more elegant and practical worldviews, and while some do indeed spin fanciful tales about your heritage, many of the wiser people feel that such tales would do nothing other than cheapen your accomplishments in life, brutal as some of them may have been, and the legend is more of Tuktu the man than Tuktu the wind spirit - commendable human being, and father of a new civilization, the first king of these lands, as your later descendants would style you. In the generations to follow, the First Tribe grows to several villages along the river, and the current village grows to become a sizable center of population, with over three hundred residents.
Elto spends his remaining years trying to steer the tribe from their hateful ways. If he cannot, he at least tries to displace their blame from foreigners to the demons of the ocean. Above all, he makes sure the lessons learned over nearly 80 years are not forgotten by the younger. He will live, as always, for the tribe, and die for the tribe if need be.
[3] You do not live particularly long after this, but it does not matter - the tribe becomes powerful in your time, as well as more tolerant, though not entirely so. They still keep din-nehru as slaves and refuse to deal with them as full equals, but at least now they appear to be less intent on killing and torturing them on sight. You die with a warm feeling inside you that everything is probably going to work out fairly nicely.
Lerka will spend her time trying to avoid the violence of her captors, ever seeking a chance to escape.
If a long time passes and she still has not escaped, she will attempt to win a place in the tribe rather than die horribly when they become bored. Mostly, though, she hates them for having imprisoned her and wants nothing more than freedom, at any cost.
[5] As soon as you have healed, you escape without much issue - slaves following the brutal overseers' overthrow are kept in place more by the promise of a stable supply of food and lack of mistreatment, and you find it simple to slip away into the night. Nobody particularly misses you back at the village after you are gone. You wander for many years, watching several tribes for promising features. One day, though, you encounter a boat with sails, much like that of the northern people with the metal blades - it is crewed by oddly friendly and trusting people, who offer to take you over to their island village after a long conversation in which you establish communication. You figure you should accept, since none of the tribes around here seem like they would accept you, and they take you to their tribe - the Purple Tribe. It is a strange place to be in, but you fit in rather well - a few of the tribespeople seem to be foreigners just like you, though much better assimilated - you find it simple to work your way up to a reasonable position of power and influence through your wits and peculiarly effective political ability, no doubt rising from your intimidating presence and reputation of eating people. They seem strangely accepting of that last part despite not practicing similar customs themselves, and seem interested in it as you explain the basic workings of it. You eventually become the shaman of your tribe, and though you are assimilated rather well, you retain a lot of your separate identity, which lends itself very well to your occupation. Your descendants are shamans after you, and each is just as respected, if not more, than you were in the peak of your life, and a few of the Axe Tribe customs, particularly a few military ones, are adopted readily by the Purple Tribe, together with agriculture, metalworking and other things they glean from the people they persuade to live with them.
I spend the rest of my life sowing seeds, and protecting those who came with me. We first established a water source, a well, and then we irrigated our farms, planted seeds, and lived a good life.
[3] The good life, while you do manage a reasonable decade of it, does not quite last - as far as you have run, you have not run far enough from your former masters, and eventually they come for you all as well. Though they do not enslave you - instead, they promise protection in exchange for swearing fealty to them. Too entrenched and tired to keep running and start things over again, you and your fellows accept your lot in life, and make regular tithes to the First Tribe of the Delta, which you seem able to live with, ultimately. Over the generations, your farming village, though a far cry from the hopes you had in mind when first moving out this far into the wild, manages to survive just fine, and grow to a respectable size as a satellite of the First Tribe. It's not a paradise by any means, but it's not a bad life. And after what you and your fellows had to go through, most would agree that it would be overly optimistic to expect much more than that.
Talonis spends the rest of his life uneventfully, and imparts what learning his original tribe had with the goat herders as they share theirs. He dies having had many sons and daughters, including Talonis Junior of the second generation.[/i]
[1] You are, sadly, not blessed with a particularly happy life among the goat herders, as you are unfortunately one of the first casualties of the first short-lived conflict between the herders and the First Tribe. You do, however, leave behind a single child, Talonis Junior, who proceeds to lead a far more uneventful life, followed by an even more inconspicuous single grandson, who finally expires without being recognized for any accomplishments aside from producing a heir to his profound lack of a reputation with somebody else's consort - this particular great grandson isn't even given a name, and is immediately given away instead of a tithe to the First Tribe so that they may raise him to be a din-nehru slave, since nobody else seemed to want him at the time, and his father was killed when the mother's consort found out about the tryst.
And with that, the next generation begins, after a bit of a timeskip! Things you need to know:
- You are still tribesmen of a sort. Probably.
- A sedentary lifestyle is prevalent among the tribes described thus far.
- The continent's still here.
- You don't have to play descendants of your original characters, if you had any, that is.
- Metalworking is known to the First Tribe and its subordinates, the Purple Tribe and the Desert Civilization.
- Probably other things, but we can improvise those on the spot if needed.
- Ambitious, charismatic men from nowhere in particular may still be murdered in the age of enlightenment.
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Topic: History: the Minimalist RTD (Read 117149 times)