http://www.myth-weavers.com en Wed, 08 Sep 2010 13:20:23 GMT vBulletin 60 http://mstylemisc.myth-weavers.com/rss.jpg http://www.myth-weavers.com http://www.myth-weavers.com/showthread.php?t=106622&goto=newpost Wed, 01 Sep 2010 18:06:14 GMT

"We are the Turtle Clan: keepers of the lost lore, warriors of the old ways, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the El'henan, and never again shall we fall."

The oath and way of the Turtle Clan. A last vestige of a time forgotten. They refuse the new sun god, and disregard the new practices, preferring to keep to the old ways, to the wars of art, war and magics. Subtle and close to the earth. Their's is a role of peace keeping. Maintaining balance and keeping the old ways.


Nestled in a forest to the north and east of our tale lies a village of the Turtle Clan. What outsiders that know of the village call it the Turtle Village or for the less friendly, Heathen's Rest. The members of the lcan itself have no name for the location, save for one: Home.

The village is surrounded by the forest and is in fact a part of it. There is no true end to the forest and no true start to the village, the two are the same. The buildings are long rectangular structures that meld into the surrounding woodlands, being of the same material, some buildings even made of still living wood, leaves andmoss growing upon it and further hiding the buildings into the background...As the plant ages, the house itself grows larger. Larger buildings, of larger and older plants, hold a special honor among the clan as a result. Each of the houses contain three to four families of people, and with the number of lodges there are approximately three to four hundred people in the village.

Outside of the longhouses many tiny fires are seen as the Anyes (what children are called until they're of naming age) playing their games, under the supervision of their elders. It may not seem apparent but every person here has a place. There are the hunters, the gatherers, Anye watchers, craftsmen, scouts, leaders, scholars. Everyone has a place here, when their talents are discovered at a young age they are groomed for their predetermined profession.

One of these, a hunter who earned the name Constance from her naming ceremony sits by a fire, there was no need to hunt for today, it had been a good hunt prior, and the meats from before were still being cured. There was no need to tax nature beyond her means. With no hunting, Constance busied herself, having several leaves in front of her, pointing to each to show the anyes what their use was, or their hazard.

The anyes, for their part had a hard time listening. Part of this was because the village was abuzz with gossip. Vistors from the nearby village had come into their camp. While it was not uncommon for a meber of the Turtle clan to be seen in their village, the reverse was seldom true. Many of the adults were discussing why they were there speaking with the elders, and silently xenophobic to the foreigners coming onto what they viewed as their land. Their hesitation was not unfounded, as what villagers who did arrive were often appalled by the blatant worship of Genecea, the Goddess of Nature, that occured in the village.

"Uhh....Feverfew...gets ridda headaches..." says one of the younger anya, straining to hear a nearby storyteller tell a tale. It was one Constance had heard before, about how their clan arrived in this spot to be chosen for a village. He was starting with one of the war's their people engaged in, with a race called the 'Fire spirits'

" ]]> For the Love of the Game Mick the Rogue http://www.myth-weavers.com/showthread.php?t=106622