Update 4
During these centuries an icy wind blows from the far north and south, chilling the lands inhabited by homo sapiens. Across many regions, there are years that seem to pass without any summers. The great glaciers, which have already swallowed much of the world, now relentlessly advance across the landscape year on year, sometimes day by day; within a few centuries, vast expanses of former hunting grounds are encased in thick layers of fresh ice. Humans, their close relatives, and other animals are forced into narrower confines, increasing competition - bringing death and misfortune to many.
Yet in other areas, the glaciers gradually withdraw, as localised breaths of warmer and drier air conspire to prise some land from the ice’s grasp. And, at the same time - although happening at a pace hardly noticeable to humans - the seas are steadily retreating from land; in some areas, the coastline retreats hundreds of miles within a few generations. Entirely new islands also rise from the sea, only to be quickly colonised by trees and animals - and in some cases, people.
At the same time, human cultures are on the move - developing new ways of life, both sedentary and nomadic. Many battles and struggles are played out across the changing landscape, until finally, the world of the ancestors has been truly transformed…
The
Vahaeara are both blessed and cursed by this changing world. Their home peninsular doubles in size as the sea level falls; but to the north and east, they face competition with Odoni who are being forced south by the ice, and later, battles with the descendants of the
Rasna; enemies who form a natural alliance against any expansion of the xenophobic Vahaeara. Meanwhile, all around them, tundra and taiga gradually replace what was once lush seasonal forest; even the sacred inland lake known as
Aenayu becomes lost to ice. Only coastal lands remain warm enough to allow any kind of farming - which consists of patches of hardy, near-wild vegetables; food that needs to be supplemented by meat and fish in order to provide enough nutrition.
During this time the Vahaeara develop what becomes known as the
Vahunotana, or ‘way of souls’, which is both a kind of philosophy and a code of laws; one side of the Vahunotana is a strict set of taboos that is put in place to prevent over-use of their remaining resources, both plant and animal. From this comes another change - some Vahaeara become herders, gradually domesticating one of the hardy, long-haired species of bovine that inhabit the surroundings - these semi-wild cattle require very little maintenance, and offer a slow but steady supply of meat, fur and hides. They also provide milk in humble quantities, though it is enough to begin encouraging the spread of lactose-tolerance genes through the Vahaera bloodlines over the following centuries.
Thus some of the Vahaera become settled into permanent villages, based on fishing, vegetable farming and cattle farming in guarded pastures. A similar way of life spreads to the western isles - which are blessed with a warmer climate, albeit prone to frequent storms. The closely-related
Vaheomo peoples prosper at this time, colonising new lands as the waters recede, and absorb the idea of the Vahunotana as their own; the endangered giant birds of the isles now become protected in their remaining nesting grounds by tribal law. Though lacking herds of cattle (which can hardly be transported on such primitive boats), the isles are blessed with grapes, fruit trees, and abundant fishing in the surrounding waters, and the population blooms, to the point that Vaheomo are forced to begin voyaging into the colder, wilder, iceberg-dotted waters of the north in search of new hunting grounds to avoid breaking the laws of the Vahunotana.
Some Vaheomo also venture south, along with traders from Vahaeara heartlands; their primitive boats - little more than rafts - are surprisingly seaworthy, but still often sunk by storms; it is only a brave few maintain contact with the
Sentri and other tribes on the southern mainland, exchanging fine ivory, down, furs and obsidian in exchange for precious silver and gemstones. A few voyagers also become shipwrecked on new islands far to the southwest, upon wild, but blessed shores, where the days and nights are of equal length. After a few false starts over several centuries, where populations dwindle and die out, enough arrivals finally arrive at one time to found a new sustainable population on the ‘isle of serpents’ - these are a mixture of peoples from the north and the equatorial mainland, calling themselves the
Yakumo.
In both the Yakumo and Vaheomo there exist tales of a much greater island to the west - a vast and fertile land, teeming with life, as well as giant monsters. But with such primitive boats and such stormy waters, only a few have travelled there and ever returned to tell the tale; few dare to venture far beyond known waters, which are risky enough as it is.
Back on the mainland, the former Rasna hegemony over the northern hunting grounds evaporates under the combined stressed of a changing climate and tribal in-fighting; after a period of flourishing and population boom, there is now not enough good hunting in the surrounding lands to support their population. A group calling itself the
Rashaami emerges as the closest successor the Rasna, with a heavy influence from the Sentri cultures in the south; they retreat to the remaining temperate forest lands on the coast. Other groups splinter out eastwards across the continent, setting off a complex chain reaction of migrations and invasions. Only a small group calling itself
Viirna - closest cultural and linguistic relatives of the old Viirsa - remain in the north, forging close ties with the Odoni and gradually intermarrying with them.
The great monument of the Rasna known as the Tiimhaa now sits abandoned, lying in a contested tribal no-man's land, its origin and purpose already being rapidly lost to garbled myth and legend.
Across the plains to the south, the
Sentri are - like the Vaheomo - one of the lucky groups able to truly prosper at this time; a drier climate leads to a thinning of the forest and spread of savannah conditions, but the Sentri respond by investing more effort in cultivation of fruit trees and edible plants along the banks of the great river system that originates in their mountainous homeland, eventually spreading out beyond to wetlands in the east and west. This primitive farming is not a sole means of survival but is able to make up a large part of the village diet; it only takes a couple of centuries for domesticated species of fruits and vegetables to begin diverging from their wild counterparts, becoming more suited for human needs.
At the same time, other groups of Sentri become more specialised as goat-herders in the semi-arid, hilly lands of the west - it is a dangerous and highly mobile lifestyle, as flocks need fresh grazing and to be guarded from ferocious predators, day and night. A later introduction of domesticated camels from the east also feeds into the nomadic lifestyle. There are also Sporadic contacts with seafaring Vahaera, with some of the blond-haired voyagers settling in these tropical lands and intermarrying with the locals, spreading elements of their polytheist religion. As centuries pass, these herders diverge from the increasingly-sedentary culture of the Sentri, becoming known as the
Naiyori.
The Sentri and Naiyori sometimes fight each other - and there are many intra-tribal feuds - but there remains a strong cultural bond; the yearly ‘festival of light’ in the shadow of Imp’senta remains important to both cultures. It is at this time that a primitive pictorial writing system also begins to spread from the Sentri heartland - first painted on cave walls, and later carved into stone tablets and etched into mammoth tusks. The pictographs tell the story of animals, plants, hostile tribes and other dangers that have been encountered by travellers, and also tell the story of heroic deeds and legends of old - forming the early basis of what may become a written language.
With more of the Sentri involved in farming or otherwise having villages to defend, there are fewer forays out into the northern plains, which become more or less the domain of the Rashaami and
Ohmiir peoples - offshoots of the Rasna. While these warlike peoples fight amongst themselves, the Ohmiir also put enough pressure on the nearby
Masa peoples to force them to ask for help from the Sentri chieftains; the Masa are distant cousins of the Sentri, and travellers from Imp’senta have been marrying into their tribes for centuries. The Masa now fall firmly under Sentri influence.
Indeed, the Rashaami and Ohmiir themselves contain a sizeable portion of Sentri-Masa ancestry, and share elements of their language and culture - together forming a large zone of cultural continuity across the western side of the great continent. This does not equate to peace however, and the Sentri villages face mounting threats from marauding bands of warriors, seeking to loot both food and ornate silver treasures for which the Sentri are renowned.
Traessa tribes, whose warriors are by now are experts in laying traps and ambush tactics, also threaten the Sentri from the south, as do the powerful non-human Ingoni clans (‘beast-men’) which persist in the southeast jungle.
The Traessa are themselves surrounded by enemies however, having made few friends over the centuries with their aggressive ways;
Baessa tribes gradually populate large swathes of the southern continent, eventually mixing with
Naua boat-peoples of the southeast peninsular to give rise to a new culture, the
Naessu, who are renowned for their rich tradition of oral storytelling - mixing the legends of both Naua and Baessa. These stories also serve a practical purpose, passing down a coded form of advice for finding food, espousing the virtue of being prepared for harsh times (as freezing winds often blow in from the southern waters during winter), and the virtue of open and honest dealings with outsiders; indeed, Naessu seafarers maintain their Naua traditions, venturing across the island archipelago and as far as the Sentri and Masa peoples in the north, exchanging precious stones, giant bird feathers and seashells with the mainlanders.
The peninsulas and islands shared by the Naua and Naessu are swollen in size by falling sea levels, reducing stretches of open water and making navigation somewhat easier; though as with the distant Vaheomo, stormy seas remain a much-feared phenomenon and claim the lives of many travellers. Here, too, native giant birds are soon pushed to the brink of extinction - though in this case the adults are ferocious killers, fully capable of decapitating a man with their beaks, they are still vulnerable when nesting, and their eggs are a prized source of both food and decoration.
The center of the great continent sees a clash between the
Kutans and the Rasna offshoots, both sides weakening each other in the struggle to dominate the fertile riverlands running south from the great sacred lake. Eventually, both sides are overwhelmed by a third party - incoming bands of
Ashala, large numbers of whom are now seeking new hunting grounds, as harsher climates take hold in the far north. The Ashala peoples already have a cultural influence over the region, with elements of their rich mythology having already been absorbed by the Kutans. Kutans meanwhile migrate southeast, displacing older
Hannu populations in their wake.
The
Ashala now bring a superior technology set of stone tools, herbal medicines, and general survival strategies born from centuries of existence in harsh northern climate. The Ashala tradition of building stone ‘gardens’ as places to connect to the spiritual realms, mixes with the old
Carva tradition of raising stone monoliths as spiritual landmarks, leading to a renewal an extension of some old monuments that already date back thousands of years.
At its peak, Ashala culture stretches across a huge swathe of the central and northern continent, but it inevitably begins to fragment - a separate
Rashana culture develops in the south west, born from mixing with former Rasna and Kutan peoples, while eastern adventurers become absorbed into the emerging
Susagh'am culture.
Many of the Ashala show a reverence for the Utur (‘snow men’), seeing them as intermediaries with the divine, and being willing to share with them even when they compete for the same prey animals. Interactions are not always peaceful however, especially in the desperation of harsh winters, but for now the two populations continue to coexist in the northern plains; but the Utur, being slow breeders, are now easily outnumbered by the homo sapiens.
There are dwindling numbers of mammoths in the far north - partly a result of climate and hunting by Ashala. Reindeer, bison, and musk ox remain fairly common but their herds are easily dispersed by over-hunting or by the onset of harsh weather. Some Ashala tribes begin to try to control their prey animals, as has happened elsewhere, leading to domestication; with the Ashala, there are at first abortive efforts to domesticate wild horses, before the herds all escape or are killed off by harsh winters. Success is instead found with hardy wild cattle, closely related to the species domesticated around the same time by the Vahaera of the far west. Herds of these hardy, semi-domesticated cattle become more and more common as the years pass, with more and more hunters turning to herding, especially in areas where large carnivores have already been scattered or have learnt to fear the approach of human beings. And, as with the Vahaera, genes for lactose-tolerance in adults begin to surface in the population as the centuries pass.
In the east of the great continent, there remains the promise of a lush new lands to colonise, but the situation gradually becomes less promising; forests are thinned out and pushed back by the southward spread of harsh cold weather, as tundra conditions take hold along the glacier line. The remaining fertile land is inhabited by a concentration of fearsome animal opponents - aggressive giant apes, huge cave bears, and ferocious packs of cave hyenas are all major obstacles for the relatively-small groups of homo sapiens venturing into the region, not to mention migratory clans of Utur (snow men - also known as At’ar).
Nonetheless, a new culture begins to emerge here; known as the
Susagh'am, they are largely derived from earlier
Ashut'ar peoples, but have an influx of fresh blood from bands of Ashala that venture east, as well as
Hannu,
Mau and similar peoples from the south and southwest coast - also absorbing the last of the
Carva peoples who had been migrating through Ashala territory. In contrast to earlier nomads, with a history of survival in harsh climates, many of the Susagh’am seek to settle in permanent villages in areas where hunting and fishing are richest, and winters less severe. These villages are protected by wooden palisades - a first line of defence against giant bears or hostile humans. The Susagh'am also develop more powerful bows, used for both hunting and for defending their territory. Tribes further north remain as mobile hunters, using their bows to weaken and take down prey from a safe(r) distance. In-fighting between tribes and villages serves to keep warrior skills sharp; occasional raids by roaming bands of Ashala fail to break the strength of the Susagh'am.
Falling sea levels transform large parts of the continental coastline in the south and southeast; the large island inhabited by the
Oai peoples now becomes reconnected to the mainland, but the isthmus also creates a large obstacle between the islands inhabited by the Mau. The western Mau begin exploring new islands off the southeast coast - finding mysterious, giant carved stone heads, seemingly ancient in origin, which terrify the explorers - but otherwise begin to settle down into the pattern of primitive farming and permanent villages seen elsewhere. Mau mysticism and storytelling tradition develops further at this time, having a big impact on their close cousins the Oai who reside on the mainland; Oai flourish in tropical forest and their population grows large enough to repel probes by Kutans and Susagh'am into this relatively-sheltered, tropical garden.
The Mau who are isolated in the north-east, facing considerably colder climates and different prey animals, develop into a seperate culture known as the
Kodaka - in contact with, and borrowing heavily from the Ashut’ar and Susagh’am of the mainland, they learn the skills needed to survive in harsh northern winters, and even begin probing into the icy waters of the far north. They are skilled fishermen, and Kodaka boatbuilding - building upon thousands of years of Mau experience - is the most sophisticated yet seen, their boats and canoes able to withstand all but the most ferocious storms. Kodaka are noted for their striking grey hair in adults, said to be a result of exposure to cold winds from the sea (but actually due to a genetic mutation).
As for the survivalist
Ashut’ar, small groups of these hardy peoples push on into the north and east, seeking to find the limits of the world not covered by impassable ice. Without realising, they cross an ice-free landbridge to a whole new continent. One tribe of Ashut’ar - following a prophecy to find a new mountain homeland - makes a perilous journey across an expanse of ice - losing half their number to cold, accidents, and being forced to eat all their wolf-dogs to survive - but eventually make it to a mountainous peninsular surrounded by a ‘great salt lake’ and ice-free shores in which to make a home. Years later, the survivors call themselves
Ashut'shadb, and are remarkable for their short stature and robust forums - perhaps adaptations to the cold. They are perhaps the most extreme survivalists among homo sapiens, and certainly the most isolated from the rest of humanity.
As this era draws to a close, the climate seems to stabilise; the seas settle somewhat, and smoking mountains become quiet; the gods seem content for now, though the expanded ice sheet shows little sign of retreating.
What now?
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RULES UPDATE - I've now added some actual stats to the second post of this thread (
here).
Lineages - each new culture that branches from your original culture will be considered part of the same ‘lineage’ or culture family. Each lineage is ‘owned’ by one player, cultures can become part of multiple lineages due to intermarriage, and thus come under the influence of multiple players at once.
Each turn, you can potentially influence every culture in your lineage - giving them new technologies, new cultural traits, new physical traits (genetics), and you can guide their relations with other tribes, as well as nudge them to explore or conquer in a certain direction. Branching off with a new culture also remains an option.
But what are the limits here? Generally, the rule is the more you try to do at once, the weaker the outcome will be. If you focus on just one culture (as per the first few turns of the game) that will have the greatest effect - you can expect to have two new technologies/cultural traits, and one new genetic trait - or two genetic traits if branching off a new culture. You’ll also get greater power over their attitudes to other cultures/tribes, and in directing them to migrate / invade a certain area.
If influencing multiple cultures, don’t hope for more than one new technology/cultural trait per turn. Genetic change will be slower (may be too small to register in the stats straight away) and your guidance on diplomacy / migration should be quite vague, or it will get lost in confusion. Any new culture you try to branch off will also get less of a head start.
Where I share influence over a culture/tribe with another player, can I contradict that player’s orders? Yes absolutely - I will have various ways of working out the conflicts (which might result in tribal in-fighting, or something more peaceful). It may be that both orders happen in part, or neither happens exactly.
Can I branch off a new culture in another part of the world, completely separate to all my existing ones? Potentially yes, but I would like to limit this as things could rapidly get out of hand. I may ask you to forfeit your existing lineage in order to do this (making them NPC).
For the time being,
new players are still able to join by branching from any existing culture, NPC or player-controlled - or can potentially take over existing cultures, pending approval from any owning player(s). Feel free to run ideas by me beforehand, just in case I do have any objections.