Scattering of the ancient Runes

Life, Relocation

A story that eludes to how the Ancient Dotite runes were scattered across Mythos

In the dark age, Nomadic tribes were commonplace with a few committing themselves to territories with high resources. Due to the ever changing world, warped by otherworldly energies, the new world had an unpredictable and treacherous ecosystem. In order to survive in the new climate, many wanderers sought salvation through power, raiding the defenseless, pillaging the weak and forged fragile alliances with useful nomadic groups and tribes, providing protection from warlords and raiders. The more peaceful nomadic tribes acted as tradesmen for the less fortunate, at worst, they were emissaries acting on behalf of tyrannical lords. These people excelled at trading, delegating manpower between allied forces and from their worldly experience, develop new devices and equipment to better survive in a world still alien to them. An economy has maintained itself till this day, mostly to provide for the less developed civilisations.   Coming out of the age of blindness, man had all but forsook the concepts of God in their majority. To discern man's worth, the Gods themselves wished to see if man had learned anything from their past mistakes, the wars, the suffering, but they could see little hope. During that period, man had struggled and starved and without any sustainable technologies, the old inexperienced generation died off rather quickly and so did much of their wisdom and knowledge. Their offspring however, took to a more primitive nature, and with many ancient libraries destroyed, only fragments of mankind's old glories made manifest.   The old world knowledge was hoarded by seventeen great tribes which now act as part of the United Government of International Affairs. With the new generation barely comprehending the words of the old text due to compartmentalised knowledge, there was a great power struggle, a cold war was fought between the greatest of tribes for knowledge.   Tribes in the colder regions to the north died off during the first annual bifrost, Every Amethul. The celestial gates of the heavens open at the peak of the mountain region. At this time frost fire would burn through the land, encasing everything in crystalline snow and ice. The frost fire had eerily preserved villages and artifacts, the remains of which, fused with the immortal ice, renderimg them useless.   The island cities and locations below sea level were overturned by a series of floods which birthed lakes, rivers and oceans. The residual esoteric energy from the Cataclysm poured into the earth and forced great expanses of land to protrude up from the dead waters to make way for what we now know to be the Fairy Islands A home for mutants and monsters, for those within its borders, they know this region as Poseidon Crest. Very few inhabitants reside here.   The Great Expense, covered much of the Farsi region to the east. A harsh land that was famous for the rich minerals it would produce. Seperated by a large mountainous range is The Faye Marsh isle, it is here that the Gnomes would call home, at least until the Rune Wars.   The Great Haul - The homeland of many of the human race. In other instances, great fissures opened up with torrents of power gushing out. These were named the Opal rivers after the various forms that opal takes. Between each of these continents remains a remote island. at its centre, a large fissure acts as a beacon, a compass, this is known as the Dragon’s Eye beacon.   The most powerful tribe at the time was the Dodungo tribe. They would reside in a flourishing forest in The Great Haul. They made camp in a ripe and beautiful plains expanse found in large forest teeming with life. At its centre was a secluded fort, an artificial moat would surrounding their main camp, a large cave at its core full of raw minerals. It radiated great warmth and power. Although the inhabitants made their home in the centre, they had claimed the whole forest as their own, treating any outsider with extreme prejudice.   The Dotite people were large in form and fierce in nature, giving them the reputation of a mighty and proud people. Each one recognised not just by stature, but the radiant crystal that hung from their neck. They lived unusually long lives. Their strength, speed and stamina surpassed their kin. Many outlanders sought their secrets, spies were killed and disrespect from any outsider was dealt with by trial by combat, often warring with other tribes and subsuming their possessions.   With word spreading about the Dodungo tribes recent trades with the Trutiki and Lothos tribes, the most infamous tribes known for pillaging and sex slavery and the Kelcutta tribe, known for being one of the greatest war faring tribes in the land. The Dodungo wanted for nothing, but every now and again their curiosity would be peaked by the creations of the outworld. The more peaceful tribes caught on to their peoples naivety and would seek refuge with the Dodungo tribe. The Ewipi tribe were one such people.   Like many of the nomadic traders, the Ewipi people sought to find favor with the Dodungo tribe, using their connections and resources to find safe passage to the southern lands which cut through the Trutiki tribes domain - in modern day, these lands inhabited by the Trutiki tribe would be known as Kathlows Market - to the lands that border the Farsi Region.   They had reached the perimeter of the Dodite territory, waiting in the shadow of the forest canopy, behind them acres of vineyards and farmlands abound, villages who slave after the Dodite people acting as slaves and servants. Beyond them were vast mountains, of which were the Burulean shards, a highly mountainous region that, although far in distance held another powerful tribe that remained feared and isolated, this mountainous land acted as a border that severed the Dodite reach. Within their perimeter however, the Dodite people promised not a hair would stray from their head. A promise that had not yet been breached.   At the edge of the forests reach the Ewipi people made camp at the north eastern entrance, still gathering themselves after fleeing from the Trutiki tribes tyranny. They took refuge, residing in the shadow of the forest for three days, the one to greet them was a single Dodite warrior, Darnascus. His creamy skin was offset by the dusty red of his hair, unkempt and full, he wore a fiery-gold crystal with a faint green inner flow around his neck. His appearance was analogous to the lions of legend, from the age of men.   As he made his way to the Ewipi people, a worn middle aged man but the name of Moroe met Darnascus outside their camp. With his dusty brown hair and ragged clothing, he was clearly a slave of som sort. His hands told tales of a carpenter, but with many of those in his camp being either elderly or in the early stages of childhood, Moroes pitiful but awkward nature was made manifest. In exchange, he wished to trade plans for plumbing, a collection of old religious encroachments and other garments that were traded to them by an old fishing post, apparently found in an underwater monastery, they also wished to trade exotic fruits, apples, pears, kiwis, citrus fruits.   The request was simple enough, something of this nature would take a few days to resolve. Darnascus, however, having been rather curious of the outside world, saw an opportunity to escape the suffocating world his people built. Like a few in his clan, he was getting on in his age and wished for a more peaceful life than the one he had currently lived. He saw his life before him, constantly struggling to prove his worth before those younger and stronger would eventually kill him. Until that time, watching the outlanders free and mobile with many tales of endless waters and floating islands, creatures, far beyond one's imagination. He wished to see it all. Taking the message to his people, Darnascus made haste to put plans into motion.   Morning, Midday and Night, the Ewipi people would grow in number. Believing that leaving was surely death, they had refused to leave, to survive, they did minor jobs in the vineyards, providing repairs and other services, the party had stayed five days longer than expected, eight in total, during that time the Dodite watchmen hiding in the canopy of the forests trees were instructed to observe the Ewipi people. The Ewipi people had been taken in many refugees since their arrival. From a handful of twenty-three to two-hundred and seventy-three, some of which had met raiders on their way to the site, the price paid could be seen weighing on their shoulders.   On the ninth day, Darnascus returned, requesting the presence of Moroe and a handful of others. Looking around the camps, forty two caravans, ninety three horses and now amassing many young men and women amongst their ranks. Impressed, he handed over to Moroe a scroll and with grim resolve, Moroe read over it.   Upon the scrolls were written that the Ewipi people were to hand over: fourty-five crates of fruits, three male lambs, seven horses, twenty-seven women and an item worth greater than or equal to a quartz star stone (a moderately valued stone, we now call them, Runes). Moroe, devoted to his own people, saw fit to fulfill this arrangement, taking from the newcomers rather than his own. After the transfer had been arranged and the last woman was delivered to the Dodite tribe, Darnascus took from his pouch, a single stone of average size, no bigger than a child's fist. The true nature of which was unknown to Ewipi people, or any who had not encountered the Dodite people. Enraged Moroe raised his fist in anger to strike at Darnascus, but a moments glance at his imposing structure made him think twice. Darnascus instructed them to wait a day, place the stone in the head of the leading caravan and they will remain unscathed. Before they could complete the contract however, Moroe was instructed to draw his own blood over the stone and it will activate. With the contract sealed in blood, the Ewipi people made way to depart southward. Upon doing so, another ten had accompanied them. With many fearing death, half the troop stayed behind in the village of slaves. The others, fearful over potential death, made may through the settlements of raiders seeking out vulnerable passers by.   They remained untouched...   A few months pass and the Ewipi tribe had made its way to the warmer climate toward the north west region of the great haul which we now know to be the High Gardens Palace quarters. There they met a small settlement stationed within a moat, they had developed far more than most settlements, brandishing steels and discovering a means to power old technologies to minute success. Looking to restock, the Ewipi people traded their support and manpower for food and supplies for their journey. The elderly and infirm would stay behind, leaving the children to wander after daycare. Baelic was one such child, known for his skin and hair white like snow and reddened eyes. Allergic to the sun, he would regularly find the rear most caravan where a vagrant would reside for his regular training sessions to be a man. With his odd appearance, he would often be likened to a demon, a monster and subsequently stoned by the other children. On this occasion however, the children followed him to the vagrant to pick fights with the stranger. Ashter, Dura, Paora and Galele were not friends of the child, merely following as though lemmings but upon seeing the vagrants large form took to keeping silent. Tikanter, Valeri, Bokoreb and Jaora took to flinging rocks at the vagrant also. Enraged, the man roared at the children. Tikanter, the chieftain's son was arrogant and postured knowing that any harm on his head would prove detrimental to the vagrant so he continued.     ===       Fed up with the his indignant behavior, the vagrant took two stones from his bag, struck them together, a loud bang could be heard and a glorious array of light vanished as soon as it came, the sudden nature of the bang cause the boy to relieve himself much to his peers surprise. Humiliated, he stormed off back to his quarters. In spite of their generosity, he was often short tempered and cynical with the tribesmen, regardless, they suffered his arrogance. This, tempered with sudden bouts of aloof behaviour made him difficult for the elders to tolerate. If not for the tenderness he had shared with the children, he would have surely been cast out. It led many to surmise that he had family before his exile, having found solace looking after the children, that and the belief that he may be exhibiting a case of mental instability.   He had ventured with them for six years, migrating through the poisonous marsh lands of the south east and into the east in hopes of establishing their homeland in the plains that run outside the the territory of the Roa tribe.   The nature of the tribesman had reformed him into a new man over time, a good man. It took six and a half years for the insanity to take hold of his mind. But In his bouts of madness, he began to slowly lose touch with reality, that being said. The children loved being around him all the more, the stories he would tell when his mind would wander, of well springs of eternal youth, of creatures with 10 eyes and sharp teeth, of butterflies that grant wishes, of slithering serpents that listen to your dreams… When the adults would have their backs turned, the children would awe in amazement at the show Boreb would put on. But to them it was all just a mad mans ramblings preoccupying children. And that it was.   The lightheartedness of the tribe slowly turned course as they had hit the barrens. The food had dried faster than anticipated and the steeds fell ill regularly. At this rate, the people feared death by starvation. In order to save resources, the elderly and infirm were herded off and put to sleep in order to save resources. Boreb himself would have surely died if not for his way with children, his ability to soothe their hearts made the journey bearable. However that didn't stop the scorn and ire from the more prominent members of the tribe.   Three years in the wilderness had passed and things had gotten desperate. The cacti, ruru plants and wandering buffalo supplies have almost run out, if not for the lucky supply of scorpions and minor dragons that cross their path, they would have surely died. Seemingly useless, they had reduced Borebs rations to a stick of old bread and week old cactus, barely any of its water remained. But somehow, this had lasted him little over a week, With everyone on the brink of thirst and hunger, there he stood, strong in body, half so in mind. This led the tribesmen to believe that he was a thief. With little to no proof, they made plans to lead him to his death..   Whether it was due to resentment or the enforcement of new punishments, his punishment was death or exile. Boreb chose death as he believed he would not survive on his own. As they would with the elderly and infirm, they would take them far from the camp before killing them. The executioner attempted to lead Boreb to his death, but a strange pulled him elsewhere. Rather than going north to the mountains, Boreb convinced the executioner to veer slightly to the west. It was this slight divergence that brought into view an oasis.   The group of men, ran to the oasis, the water reflecting the light of the sun so perfectly that it almost looked like glass. Sought to get rid of the mad man   Came back with berries, water, enough to last a few weeks rations. Both killed by wild beasts Adelinia. A regular listener of Borebs stories would mimic the man, writing his words down as though a gospel, and in the dark of her tent as she read the stories as a means of comfort. A faint glow could be seen from the innards of her tent.