Aust
02-11-2005, 21:14
OOC: This is completely open, there is only one necessary part, I need someone to take control of the people who appear at the end of the piece. Ohj and in case your wondering, this takes place in Christ Own Legions, but I can't get on as that account at the moment.
The people of the Tilwoki tribe had never seen a white man, nor had they ever seen a black man, or any man that wasn’t a member of there tribe. They had no word for stranger or for enemy because they had never been those words. For thousands of years they’d been sealed off from the outside world, protected by Jungle and rivers. You could say that they where a ferial, wild people, little more than savages with untamed hair and primitive weapons.
To call them savage would be wrong of course, they may not wear clothes, and use knifes and forks but they had a strange sense of honor and religion, they didn’t kill people or destroy the environment like some people.
Yet within 5 minutes that’s all going to change…
Deep in the jungle of Christs Own Legion
The boys name was Tincalic, but we’ll just call him Tin for now. He was crawling over the deep undergrowth of the jungle floor on his belly keeping his breath quiet and shallow, his skin covered in paints the Shaman had made to hide him from his enemy.
In his left hand he gripped a spear, in his right a bow and a quiver of arrows was thrown over his back. He was sweating with excitement, ahead of him lay a Puma asleep. He had spotted it a hour ago, and had trailed it since the, abandoning his hunt for food. The honor would be his if he could kill the beast and take it’s corpse back to the village. No one in the village had ever killed a puma, at least no one alive, and the feats of those who had, long dead now, where ingrained in myth. If he killed it then the Shaman would sing the Ballard of Tincalic and the Puma.
He crept ever closer, before finally darting into the cover of a bush. The Puma didn’t stir as he pulled out his bow and knocked his best arrow. He took careful aim, light wind from right to left, he adjusted his aim carefully and then it was perfect.
He let the string go and watched as the arrow went unerringly towards the beasts throat, then a breath of wind caught it and it sailed slightly to the left, missing the throat and embedding itself in the beasts neck. The big cat roared and rose it it’s feet in pain, trying to bite the barb that had pieced it’s skin. It finally managed to rip the stick off, leaving the head in it’s fur.
Tin knocked another arrow and let fly, this one his the beast in the neck again. It roared and charged towards him, covering the ground remarkably quickly. Tin crouched and readied the spear and the beast leapt into the bush, straight onto the spear end, running itself through on the blade through the sheer force of it’s jump. Tin knew that if the cat had hit him, he’d be dead, killed by the sheer force of the blow.
The creature was dying now, it’s cheats heaving and blood spurting from the mortal wound. It lashed out at Tin, slashing open his chest and leaving 4 claw marks that would eventually turn to scars. He’d been lucky that the Puma had been weakened, if it had been at full strength that blow would have cut him in two. Still he yelled at the searing pain and leapt back, blood spilling down his naked body.
“Bastard!” he roared at the beast and the beast roared back, desperately trying to reach him, it’s life’s blood pooling around the ground as it crawled forwards. Tin kept stepping back, knowing that he just had to stay out of the beasts was as it became weaker and weaker and slower and slower. Finally it stopped, shuddered and died, a trail of blood marking it’s long, slow, agonizing crawl towards it’s killer. Blood mattered it’s fur and the spear kept it’s head upright, it still looked proud and dangerous even in death. At first Tin was afraid to approach it, fearing that it would spring back to life and kill him.
Finally he summoned the courage to approach it once more, marveling at it’s sleek and graceful body, how to get it home was the question. He felt light headed from the loss of blood and when he tried to drag the thing it simply proved to heavy even to move an inch. Wondering what to do no he decided not to take the body with him but to simply bring the animals head, to show his achievement. If the Shaman wanted the body they would return to bring it back.
How to cut the head off was another problem. Arrowheads where too mall while his spearhead was buried deep inside the Pumas innards. He heaved at the spear shaft but only succeeded in breaking it off He had no choice now. He crawled towards the thing and pushed it onto its side, the spears entry point clearly visible. He closed his eyes and reached into the hole, his hands imminently drenched with gore. He took a firm grip on the remaining shaft and heaved on it, the suction of the flesh giving strong resistance to his efforts, finally with a squelch the flesh gave and the spearhead and shaft came out with a flood of fresh blood which poured over Tin.
Blood splattered he now reached for the head and slowly cut at it, using the razor sharp spearhead like a knife, it took him nearly an hour but finally his could pull the head away from the body. It was surprisingly heavy, and exhausted he hauled it away from the body, carrying it upside down with both hands.
Then he heard noises coming from beyond the next club of undergrowth, the sound of heavy voices, human voices, and the clump of boots. Strangely those these people where speaking with weird words and pronunciation.
Tin crept towards the undergrowth and stared. They where men traveling in single file, cleaving through the undergrowth with long curved knives, pistols in there pockets. They had skin of different colors as well, some with black skin, some with white skin, only a few had the light brown skin of Tin and his people. They had strange colored hair as well, some with white and red hair, though many had the same brown hair as the tribe.
They wore strange things over there bodies, not like the cloak the Shaman wore but full body things that covered everything, there legs, there cheats, they even wore things on there heads. They each had large packs on there backs, and some where quite young, though the man at the front was old.
One of the few girls spoke to the man at the front now, “I’m sure that we should have arrived by now? It should have only been a 10 day trek. We’ve been out here for ages…” Tin ignored her words and counted the people, there where 12 of them, that was almost half the tribes numbers. Tin turned to run back to the village, the elders needed to know about this, this was something strange, something new. Keeping careful hold of the Pumas head Tin tried to move slowly and carefully away, then he saw it before him, a large snake, a deadly snake.
It curled towards him, sensing the blood from his wounds and the Puma. Tin was trapped he couldn’t go forwards and he couldn’t go back. He carefully backed off, looking for something to hit the snake with, to drive it away. HE couldn’t go much further, once he was through this bush he would be in the midst of the people.
The decision was made for him as he tripped over a upturned tree root and fell backwards, crying out as his ankle snapped. The Puma head flew away from him and he tumbled through the undergrowth into the middle of the peoples column.
OOC: Right as I said, I need someone to take control of the people. If anyone else wants to join just TG me with your idea for a character(s) and I’ll see if it’s workable.
The people of the Tilwoki tribe had never seen a white man, nor had they ever seen a black man, or any man that wasn’t a member of there tribe. They had no word for stranger or for enemy because they had never been those words. For thousands of years they’d been sealed off from the outside world, protected by Jungle and rivers. You could say that they where a ferial, wild people, little more than savages with untamed hair and primitive weapons.
To call them savage would be wrong of course, they may not wear clothes, and use knifes and forks but they had a strange sense of honor and religion, they didn’t kill people or destroy the environment like some people.
Yet within 5 minutes that’s all going to change…
Deep in the jungle of Christs Own Legion
The boys name was Tincalic, but we’ll just call him Tin for now. He was crawling over the deep undergrowth of the jungle floor on his belly keeping his breath quiet and shallow, his skin covered in paints the Shaman had made to hide him from his enemy.
In his left hand he gripped a spear, in his right a bow and a quiver of arrows was thrown over his back. He was sweating with excitement, ahead of him lay a Puma asleep. He had spotted it a hour ago, and had trailed it since the, abandoning his hunt for food. The honor would be his if he could kill the beast and take it’s corpse back to the village. No one in the village had ever killed a puma, at least no one alive, and the feats of those who had, long dead now, where ingrained in myth. If he killed it then the Shaman would sing the Ballard of Tincalic and the Puma.
He crept ever closer, before finally darting into the cover of a bush. The Puma didn’t stir as he pulled out his bow and knocked his best arrow. He took careful aim, light wind from right to left, he adjusted his aim carefully and then it was perfect.
He let the string go and watched as the arrow went unerringly towards the beasts throat, then a breath of wind caught it and it sailed slightly to the left, missing the throat and embedding itself in the beasts neck. The big cat roared and rose it it’s feet in pain, trying to bite the barb that had pieced it’s skin. It finally managed to rip the stick off, leaving the head in it’s fur.
Tin knocked another arrow and let fly, this one his the beast in the neck again. It roared and charged towards him, covering the ground remarkably quickly. Tin crouched and readied the spear and the beast leapt into the bush, straight onto the spear end, running itself through on the blade through the sheer force of it’s jump. Tin knew that if the cat had hit him, he’d be dead, killed by the sheer force of the blow.
The creature was dying now, it’s cheats heaving and blood spurting from the mortal wound. It lashed out at Tin, slashing open his chest and leaving 4 claw marks that would eventually turn to scars. He’d been lucky that the Puma had been weakened, if it had been at full strength that blow would have cut him in two. Still he yelled at the searing pain and leapt back, blood spilling down his naked body.
“Bastard!” he roared at the beast and the beast roared back, desperately trying to reach him, it’s life’s blood pooling around the ground as it crawled forwards. Tin kept stepping back, knowing that he just had to stay out of the beasts was as it became weaker and weaker and slower and slower. Finally it stopped, shuddered and died, a trail of blood marking it’s long, slow, agonizing crawl towards it’s killer. Blood mattered it’s fur and the spear kept it’s head upright, it still looked proud and dangerous even in death. At first Tin was afraid to approach it, fearing that it would spring back to life and kill him.
Finally he summoned the courage to approach it once more, marveling at it’s sleek and graceful body, how to get it home was the question. He felt light headed from the loss of blood and when he tried to drag the thing it simply proved to heavy even to move an inch. Wondering what to do no he decided not to take the body with him but to simply bring the animals head, to show his achievement. If the Shaman wanted the body they would return to bring it back.
How to cut the head off was another problem. Arrowheads where too mall while his spearhead was buried deep inside the Pumas innards. He heaved at the spear shaft but only succeeded in breaking it off He had no choice now. He crawled towards the thing and pushed it onto its side, the spears entry point clearly visible. He closed his eyes and reached into the hole, his hands imminently drenched with gore. He took a firm grip on the remaining shaft and heaved on it, the suction of the flesh giving strong resistance to his efforts, finally with a squelch the flesh gave and the spearhead and shaft came out with a flood of fresh blood which poured over Tin.
Blood splattered he now reached for the head and slowly cut at it, using the razor sharp spearhead like a knife, it took him nearly an hour but finally his could pull the head away from the body. It was surprisingly heavy, and exhausted he hauled it away from the body, carrying it upside down with both hands.
Then he heard noises coming from beyond the next club of undergrowth, the sound of heavy voices, human voices, and the clump of boots. Strangely those these people where speaking with weird words and pronunciation.
Tin crept towards the undergrowth and stared. They where men traveling in single file, cleaving through the undergrowth with long curved knives, pistols in there pockets. They had skin of different colors as well, some with black skin, some with white skin, only a few had the light brown skin of Tin and his people. They had strange colored hair as well, some with white and red hair, though many had the same brown hair as the tribe.
They wore strange things over there bodies, not like the cloak the Shaman wore but full body things that covered everything, there legs, there cheats, they even wore things on there heads. They each had large packs on there backs, and some where quite young, though the man at the front was old.
One of the few girls spoke to the man at the front now, “I’m sure that we should have arrived by now? It should have only been a 10 day trek. We’ve been out here for ages…” Tin ignored her words and counted the people, there where 12 of them, that was almost half the tribes numbers. Tin turned to run back to the village, the elders needed to know about this, this was something strange, something new. Keeping careful hold of the Pumas head Tin tried to move slowly and carefully away, then he saw it before him, a large snake, a deadly snake.
It curled towards him, sensing the blood from his wounds and the Puma. Tin was trapped he couldn’t go forwards and he couldn’t go back. He carefully backed off, looking for something to hit the snake with, to drive it away. HE couldn’t go much further, once he was through this bush he would be in the midst of the people.
The decision was made for him as he tripped over a upturned tree root and fell backwards, crying out as his ankle snapped. The Puma head flew away from him and he tumbled through the undergrowth into the middle of the peoples column.
OOC: Right as I said, I need someone to take control of the people. If anyone else wants to join just TG me with your idea for a character(s) and I’ll see if it’s workable.