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PostSubject: Looking at turn #3   Wed Feb 10, 2010 5:55 pm

Cereal Turn #3

After the first revelation of Cereal when our lands and our bodies were remade in our image he gave us many years to adjust. We grew complacent, we learned nothing, organized nothing, had no pride or honor. This did not make the great god of the birds happy!

On the first day of the new era Cereal looked down upon us and decided our time of rest was over. We were lazy, we had no focus. But he saw one strong hunter who tried to race the winds, outfight the great cats, chase the birds of the air, and sometimes even win! This pleased the lord of Eagles. Before all his peers in the nesting grounds a great winged shape of yellow flame swooped down out of the rising sun to engulf his chosen prophet. First Hunter screamed in pain and struggled to break free. We were all very much afraid! Yet the prophet not only survived, but he left the holy fires transformed into a being of writhing markings and burning flame!

This creature brought to us the word of cereal. Nobody wanted to listen and there was much ass kicking; for the prophet brought not only the words of Cereal, but also the beginings of the sacred Martial Arts!

When we had all been properly chastised the first Lord Prophet began to teach. He taught us to fight, to compete, to have pride in ourselves and our accomplishments, and when he was ready he flew us up into the deep air where it was hard to breath, and using strange minerals and sharp claws placed upon our foreheads the mark of initiation, we were amazed! We could breath in the thin air as easilly as we could in our sacred land of Aves far below!

Since then we have learned the rituals of Cereal. The prophet has annointed priests, his best students, and taught them the sacred meditation, tai chi, and prayers. Every year one of these priests, his best student, challenges for the right of leadership. The winner becomes the prophet, and the loser is burnt to death by cereal for his weakness! After the yearly challenge new priests are always chosen from amongst the people.

And so the years go on . . . The prophet gives us fire to cook our food in the mornings, and we have learned to keep the sacred flames burning so he may attend to his ritual prayers and meditation. Some priests purify the food or heal small cuts or bruises with a touch, they never get sick, and it seems like they can even see in the dark. Someday perhaps the rest of the people will earn these potent tattoos, for now though we thank Cereal for his gifts!
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PostSubject: Re: Looking at turn #3   Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:02 pm

Kirin Turn #3

Description: Faith Of The Father

Under the guidance of the wise and mighty Father God and his priests; they who weild the mighty pearl of wisdom, we have prospered for the past hundred years!

Fish are plentiful out in deeper waters which we reach in our unstable dugout canoes and we only lose a few people a year to storms and by smoking them they last longer though some few animals can get them where we hang them amongst the trees. Still it is nice to have a food reserve ready for a rainy day.

Stone axes added to the pearl of wisdom made our rooting out of heretics simpler, until the father decreed that strange ideas were to be accepted unless they truly went against his ways of learning. After that we merely seperated ourselves out from the heretics, chasing the worst of them into the forest where they could go their own way and hopefully find their own path to The Father. Most especially we keep the followers of Smart Stick away from the pearl of wisdom.

Some months after we managed to purge the tribe of smart stick's followers and many other heretics who otherwise we would have slaughtered the father's great pearl of wisdom glowed with an eerie white light and sent out waves of fog in all directions. The ground all around us shook and screamed. Men, women, and children were knocked into the dirt, some where badly injured.

From the ground strange gnarled trees rose up growing at an amazing pace, ripping their way towards the sky with a loud screaming, groaning, tearing, motion. The tortured bark healing before our eyes into twisted shapes with sad human faces staring out from the patterns in the bark!

The Terror Trees within our new sacred grove were apple, peach, pear, walnut, chestnut, and oak. Each one came with a gift of fruit or nuts. Fried acorn and walnut Mush is very tasty. Apples, peaches, and pears are a special treat in their season. Best of all the father's globe showed us how to plant the seeds of these trees with buried fish and manure, how to water them, and let them grow.

After a hundred years many of the hills around the sacred grove where the father's body rests are covered with our orchards and we are beginning to harvest fruit and nuts in larger quantities. Every so often the decendents of the heretics, now calling themselves "The Hidden" show up to trade fermented milk, meat products, and trinkets of pale white bone.

We wish we knew where they got such things, but they speak amongst themselves in a strange convoluted dialect that is hard to understand, and when they make an effort to be understood they talk in riddles, they claim that if we love riddles so much we should love theirs! We can't argue as they are emulating the Father, but sometimes we think their riddles are meant to mislead us rather than help us learn!

Description: The Hidden

Since the days of Smart Stick and Dim Rabbit we lived amongst the people in fear. Our doubts were never addressed, but those caught thinking strange thoughts, or questioning the father were killed without mercy. We hid our beliefs in whispers and riddles, and watched our friends and loved ones destroyed for any single mistake or missed step in our dance of deception. The father demon took many of us.

Yet in the end he realized he could not squash us with rivers of blood. Every act of cruelty merely hardened our hatred of him and all he stood for. Finally he told his children to stop killing us, and instead they pushed us out into the hills and forests. Out where our strange ideas and doubts would not infect their children or distract from their worship.

As they planted the fathers demon trees we moved up into the mountains and learned to think for ourselves without relying upon the false knowledge and tainted gifts of the Father Demon. Like him we learned to domesticate the beasts of the earth. Feeding them and keeping them well fed, and then harvesting from them milk, meat, hide, and bone. Just as the father demon keeps the people well fed and harvest belief to make himself stronger at their expense.

We've changed our language to keep our belief and knowledge secret from the Pigs and Goats of the Father. Yet we trade with them, our cousins from time to time. Watching what they are doing, spying out problems that might come towards us should the father decide we too should be tame and unthinking beasts in his service.

They wonder how we do what we do, where we get our meat, milk, and bone in such numbers. We give them riddles not to teach them anything, but to make them think, to sow doubt in their faith in the father. If we are lucky he will teach them what we know. Herding of goats and pigs. Then they will see how he treats them the same as we treat our livestock, and they will rebel.

Even if they don't we keep them distracted. Hopefully the father demon does not know that we have sent many of our children fleeing to the east and to the west. Hopefully at least some of our children and grandchildren will live free of the Father Demon AND his children. In the meantime most of us stay here and watch our enemies and our families who suffer under the Demon's foul gaze.

Faint images come to you from the east and west. Some of the hidden flee through open wooded prairies, others wander through forested mountains and over vast wet grasslands seeking safety. They move slowly herding their goats and pigs, but already they are quite a ways away, your not sure how far, or which group has gone in what direction.

This was probably our first real split in the game. The player had given an order not to enforce unity and those who really carried a grudge against last turns inquisition and squashing of ideas and debate burst into almost open rebellion sending many of their families away as a preparation in case they all had to leave in a mass migration later. Many feared the new stance was a trick to get the players enemies out into the open where they could be killed more easilly.
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PostSubject: Bernedette Turn #3   Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:19 pm

Bernedette Turn #3

Bernedette gives a speech:

"Greetings Helge-Conchabhar, my most blessed people. Many years ago I looked down and saw on my land two creatures that had been given different but great gifts these creatures were enemys but I saw in them the potential to be not just great allies and friends but to indeed become one people that could grow and proclaim my glory in everything that they did. These many years since I joined toghether the Bernadines and Bernardos I have watched you and heard your prayers. I have seen much that has pleased me in that time. I saw how the Bernardos took great care in keeping safe their Bernadine twirns and hunted the large game to feed the pack. I saw the Bernadines humble nature always giving honor to not just to me but the Bernados as well, I saw their eagerness to help their pack in all ways possible, and I saw them learn to sew clothing in the image of my own all these things have pleased me greatly .

I have seen much that pleased me but also much that greatly displeases me I saw the Bernardos filled with pride in their own gifts often forget that the Bernadines are to be their partners and that they should be honored for their gifts as the Bernadines honor them for theirs. Indeed the Bernardos do not even see fit to give me the honor I deserve. The Bernadines have forgoten many of their gifts using their abilty to make tools only using this knowledge to make the clothes that they honor me with. You also have failed to give the proper respect to those who gather from the plants of the land and the bounty of the sea for while their seems little glory in this they are equaly important as the hunt in providing for the pack what they need to be strong and healthy. your actions in these matters have displeased me .

However I know that these slights were due to ignorance not with the intent of displeasing me so I shall not curse you this time. insted I will leave you with this knowledge. From today on the Bernadines are to take up the knowledge of their ancestors and again make tools for the benefit of the pack, they shall make clothes for both cermonies honoring me and to wear everyday that they may honor me daily, they shall make for the Bernardos kercheifs to where around their neck so they may also honor me these shall be taken off only for the hunt. In answer to the prayers of my Bernadines who have given effort to honor me as best they could I give you the power to see through the eyes of all the beasts of the land and sea and air and indeed to control all these animals but this gift shall need to be worked for you must learn to use this gift starting first with the rabbits, then the reindear going from their to become masters of all beasts with every beast you learn to master and every tool you create you will be honoring me as I value these things highly and you will be greatly gifted for your efforts.

The Bernardos shall learn to speak with their brethren of other packs so that the knowledge of my ways may spread to all. The Bernardos who are not adept at the making of tools are to develop ways to number the amount of all things(the start of math) to add to the knowledge of the pack I value knowledge highley and these and all other knowledge learned by the BErnardos and Bernadines will be a way in which you may give me honor and earn gifts for the pack. At night when you rise from your bodies Twirns being one in body can do much if they put in the effort to learn you may move around as you please, and take energy from any animal that the Bernadines have learned to command you can use this energy to speak to one another as during the day, but take care that you do not kill the animal from which you take the energy for you will receive less from a dead animal then from alive one. and as you frolick throught the night knowing none can harm you take care to notice the sky and learn the movements of the stars and planets and all else that lives in the night sky.

You shall eat of the food of the hunt, the bounty of the sea and the food that grows from the ground giving me thanks and praise for these gifts and rembering always that all these foods are all important for the pack to grow strong. The oldest twirns of the pack must pray from the the dawn until the sun is at its highest point in the sky so as to honor me and remind my people that I watch them always. before the pack eats they are to pray together thanking me for the gifts I have given and that I may give them more. because I wish to always be a part of your life pray to me in the depths of your despair and the heights of your joy. The Mammoths are not to be hunted except on the longest and shortest days of the year and the days exactly half way between (equinoxes,solstices). on these days before eating you will don your cerimonial garb and perform the ceromonies to honor me and will not eat in order of pack domince as you do daily but split all equally among yourselves to rember that I am the alpha over you all.

work to please me and you will be given great gifts displease me and I will curse you


Over the past century the rains have come frequently the rivers have swelled, and the air is hot and humid. As the winters grow shorter the Mastadon and whooly Rhino quickly shed their think winter coats and spend more and more time enjoying the summer weather. A few of them have died on the hottest days, but most seem to be adjusting fairly well.

Across the plain a greener grass is spreading which the mammoth and Rhino don't seem to like as much, here and there strange trees are also popping up, as if transported into the area by magic. You recognize lone apples, peaches, pears, plus the rare oak or walnut. These invaders are extremely rare on the plain, but they seem to be thriving. Nothing much bothers them, it is as if the local bugs have never encountered anything like them before. They simply grow and grow!

Since your speech the Bernedine have once more taken up knives and scrapers. They have made the leap forward from wearing smelly rotting hides to actual leatherwork using the labor intensive brain curing method. When not out hunting both bernardo and bernadine now wear clothing now. Cowboy outfits for the humanoids, and kercheifs for the canines. The cowboy boots still give the people trouble, they can't figure out how to make them, but they wear leather socks that are their closest attempt to date.

The bernedine have also developed the ability to mentally locate and enter the brain of reindeer and rabbits, seeing through their eyes. They often use these skills to help scout out the terrain and locate prey for their twirn companions. It is a small skill but it helps with the hunt.

Every morning from sun up till noon the oldest twirns of each pack gather together to give you praise, and each member in turn praises you in order of pack rank within their race before eating.

The H-C has also learned to move and speak in it's ghost wolf form, and ghost wolves fight mental battles for dominance within the pack. The Alpha Pack now has H-C members from each sub-pack. These smartest of Twirns eat before ALL others and are accepted as the ultimate leaders of the entire Super-Pack.

Of course on Bernedette's four sacred feast days that does not matter. Special rituals are observed then and all pack members eat at the same time. The people chafe at this, but so far they hear your blessed words and they obey.

This player didn't care for the initial direction her people were taking and moved fairly quickly to correct course. She decided to spend points giving a massive speach and laying a curse over the land. It worked, but it cost quite a bit and the course direction began a bit slower than she might have liked. The initial speach is included here for readers, but didn't end up in her turn as she already knew what she'd said and didn't need a verbatum repeat of it. Those are her actual words from her turn.
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PostSubject: Re: Looking at turn #3   Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:49 pm

Damon Turn #3

Description: Vadin

For generations untold we have lived among the Nurturers, protecting their weak, frail bodies with our strong teeth and sharp claws, and letting them protect our cubs while we hunt meat to feed the people. In our minds the voice of Damon the pure has echoed while we sat drinking the great waters below his eternal fire. Slowly those words have taken on meaning, we've learned to speak to each other, if not to the weak and slow nurturers.

With thought comes philosophy, boredom, and a tendency to ponder things. Where did we come from? Why do we love the weak and slow moving nurturers? What is Damon the pure? Did he create us? If so why? During the summer months we sit by the cool waters and listen to Damon speak with a voice like thunder, wind, and storm.

Most of his words make no sense. They seem to involve the nurturers doing things with mud and stone . . . nothing that seems important to the hunt. We watch them and wonder what our relationship to them is, and why Damon wishes them to play in the dirt. It makes for a slow easy afternoon.

During the winter seasons some of the nurturers stay here by the sacred water and do strange things with mud, but most disperse, small groups following our prides on the hunt. They eat of our kills and gather strange plants. Some of us tried to eat these plants too, but they don't taste very good. Few try this diet twice!

Description: Vall

And so the years went by . . . During the summers when the golden grains dot the landscape we gather food by his oracular spring and let the great cats bring us meat. During the dry winters we split up into many smaller bands and migrate to follow the Vadin across the lanscape in search of more food. Thus it was for one hundred years while great Daman napped above his holy spring. LIfe was good and our numbers grew.

Then the master woke with the lashing of almost forgotten storms and the gurgle of the great floods of old. The sky above his sacred flame clouded over and flashed with lightning and the winds picked up. In their roaring the great god gave instructions to his people. For a hundred years a small storm has hovered above the sacred flame raining pure clean water into his pure deep pool below.

We have learned to mold clay into many shapes, to fire it with many colors in mighty stone kilns, ovens built along the same lines bake grain into tasty flatbread . . . when we please Damon he praises us, when we do not the storm sits silently flashing lightning at us. Slowly we have began to erect a mighty ziggurat in his honor before the oracular pool.

Year after year we add glazed blue and black bricks to the structure, a vast step pyrimid rising towards Daman's clouds far above. Clay shovels let us dig into the dirt channelling clear pure water from his never empty pool into a mighty brick lined chanel around the base of the temple. From this many people wash and drink!

With tightly sealed jars of grain the elderly and the pregnant women/cats of the tribe can stay at the temple all year long listening to the wisdom of Daman and working on perfecting his teachings. The rest of us return to the awesome monument every summer.

Only here do we have access to fire, cooked bread\meat, and pure clean water. Many people and cats die each year during our annual migration. Some are injured on the hunt, others come down with mysterious illnesses, or fall to some random accident. Thankfully though the the people are born, spend their early years, and the worst of old age, here under the gaze of the mighty one.

Above us his temple shines a glory rising ever skyward. Around it smaller buildings of red brick house the aging leaders of our people, the pregnant women, and the small children eager to learn Damon's ways. All hail the demon god! May we keep him happy so he does not return us to fire, storm, sickness, and flood!

Damon got two descriptions this turn because he had two races that saw things in different ways and each of them was giving him different important information about his society. This is different from Kirin who actually had his population split into two different cultures altogether. As you can see the lionlike vadin have only recently developed speach and are starting to wonder why they are forced to care about humans and where they came from.
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PostSubject: Re: Looking at turn #3   Wed Feb 10, 2010 7:20 pm

Cheetahcat Turn #3

All through this turn the monsoon has been increasing in strength and rainfall is now a daily event even in the dry season. The mangrove swamp and jungles have spread across the lowlands and the great cheetahcats have started spending more and more time up in the trees or up in the dry highlands. They have even moved our people's camp to higher ground where the manure can safely be buried away from the rising waters.

Also the numbers of the CheetahCats has continued to grow like crazy as they learn to hunt in the swamps using their TK to help support themselves while they jump from tree to tree and run over muck deeper than a grown man's waist. Thus meat is still plentiful as are shellfish and various the plants of the thriving mangrove swamp.

And thus the the years seemed to roll forward under the thumb of the CheetahCat. And when we had almost given up hope, when shit had stained our spirit, and we all were praying to die and be reborn as mighty cats . . . the great goddess had mercy on us poor pathetic humans! Great is the mercy of Mother CheetahCat!

On the night of the full moon our Secret Cult of the CheetahCat had been meeting in a shadowed valley. It's favored members were dressed in colored spots, dancing, growling, and baring their teeth in immitation of the great cats. Lesser men and women beat on hollow logs to fill the night with an eerie music. And our prayers rose to the ears of Mother CheetahCat.

With a swipe of her mighty paw the night lit up with cold violet fire and the most favored of our men and women rose into the air and spun like an eddy in the muck of the swamp. Like shapes formed from mud they melted and were reformed under her fingers.

Thus were the Purple born. Tall and thin, finely muscled, they had skin pale as a white grub and covered in pale violet cheetah markings that almost glowed in moonlight. Their hair was long, straight, and purple. Their ears were slightly pointed, their eyes were violet and shaped like almonds. We tried to speak to these apparitions but they failed to answer.

Instead they looked at each other and smiled. They danced in unison like an army of forest ants. Moving with an eerie coordinated grace no man could match. Howling and singing in perfect harmony thanks to Mother CheetahCat. Without words they brushed us poor humans to the very edge of the sacred grove never breaking their dance, never showing sign that any action was unpracticed or unknown to the others.

As we watched they grew forth teeth and claws of purple light and struck out at the air, they spun and jumped, howled and beat uppon wooden logs . . . Each man paired up first with one woman and then with another. They had no sign of respecting their former mate bonds, but celebrated life with each other as part of a never ending dance. Gone was their connection with muck dwelling humanity, they were the purple, our rightful lords and masters.

After that day the purple dwell alone in the sacred grove and we must do our rituals elsewhere. They wander together, never in groups of less than five. Seldom do they speak to us and when they do they chant the words in unison. Letting us know not the will of one purple, but the will of Purple Itself. During the day they sleep shaded beneath the trees of the sacred grove protecting their pale skin from the suns harsh rays. At night prides of purple hunt small game in the swamp below.

Half of our numbers had been transformed and vanished, half again had been pressed into service taking care of the new midnight overlords. This did not pass unnoticed by the great cats of the daylight hour and they tracked the Purple to the sacred grove. Not realizing the might of this new race they tried to press the Purple into service. Stones and daggers flew, but the skin of the purples glowed violet and no damage was done!

As one the purple pounced upon the great cats, ripping at them with teeth and claws of light. Yet they too could not prevail as the mighty CheetahCat threw them away in all directions bashing them into trees or holding them immobile in the air beyond arms reach. After days of battle it was clear that neither of the lordly ones could harm the other.

Thus came about the Covenant of Twilight. The lords and ladies CheetahCat rule the day and protect the sleeping Purple. At twilight the two meet and celebrate the might of their mother. Come nightfall the purple take command of both swamp and highland and the Cheetahcat sleep peacefully under their watchful gaze.

We poor humans must serve both. We live in two shifts, some work during the day, others at night. Never are we left alone, never are we free. The eyes and claws of Mother CheetahCat are upon us. Our only hope is that she will once more take pity upon the faithful. And sometimes she does, every so often one of our children is born PURPLE! Great is the mercy of Mother CheetahCat

Like vadin this player has an intelligent cat race. Unlike him they didn't start out as social animals without language and kept mostly as pets by the humans. Instead they were a fully aggressive telepathic and telekinetic race who quickly dominated the humans they were supposed to be helping. This turn the player uplifted a few humans to counterbalance the cats aggression. Unfortunately the people have learned from the cats over the generations and now the "Purple" also want to dominate the ordinary humans.
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