Edit 2
Act 1 Welcome:
I saw it before I understood what I was seeing, it was a hilled clearing with an ancient tree in its middle, it was much larger than most of the trees in the forest especially the ones near this forest edge.
I saw carved homes both on the base of the trunk of the tree, and on the slopes of the hill, they were of wood and dried grass half buried in the dirt, much like of the homes of the Anglo-saxons in the dark ages, I remember professor Green telling me they were called Grubenhäusers.
I remember the professor making us simulate building a village much like this one, I was stuck with working stones for the moth and bailey, but I was given time to make a few of them with the other experimental historians.
Some of the dwellings had gardens and what seems like wells, others did not but seem to have been workshops, barns or other such building of work and home. I then look at the residents and they seem terrified! some running or riding towards the elder tree, others herding there large cowlike white goats, small chicken like animals and mounts, and the rest were lining to create a kind of defensive formation.
I can even feel the hints of a large scale psionic projection from a group of important looking Cottorings, with most of them being elderly. I smiled and waved at them. "This is quite the welcome Camellia, do you want me to prove my might, or my magic?"
I softly asked the hunt leader who was slightly cowering behind my long dark blue hair. I should have listened to her but really who wouldn't be excited meeting a whole new civilization! it was the dream of everyone of those that sailed beyond Sol.
"Forest lord Cloudy, please. . . step back and let me talk to my people." I looked at the very much unfamiliar psionic projection or as the natives called it "War Ritual-magic" and then at the 60 something archers ready to fire at me at moments notice and then the 8 special looking cottorings holding Bladed golden spears, coated with crimson coats and armoured in hard leather.
Those 8 special little ones had the most dense essence among them all, Camellia's gate in comparison was a quarter weaker, than them. specially compared to the one in the middle, wearing much more feathers on her crimson robed hood, compared to the others.
"Of course. I would like to be welcomed, and not fought by my hosts." I told Camellia and her sisters as I gently held them and then placed them down with there mounts and turned around walking towards there boundary trees, and stepping beyond them and sitting myself down, and then started weaving soft mats, using the fiber of reeds and vines and the furred hides of slayed beasts.
Act 2 Invitation:
I was finished making the 30th matt bed and a few straw dolls when a procession of cottorings, with the most powerful of them, leading them followed closely by the head huntress. They then stood Infront of me as I tower over them, even as I sat and my hands occupied with weave work.
The procession was small only having 20 people beside the two infront I only recognize the two younger sisters of Camellia that was with her during her exploration of the deeper areas of the emerald sky forest.
The rest of the archers where unfamiliar but I sense they were all female. . . Odd, I have learned how to read the Cottorings essence, and know of there sex, but to see not have a man among them. . . are they a matriarchal warrior civilization? it would explain why only the females have come to test me.
"We greet thee, wondering forest god Cloudy! I Vivienne am the chieftess of The Honey Rose clan, of the outskirts of the Emerald forest." She gave me a bow and the others did the same. I intern reciprocated there greeting and gave them a bow as they finish there bowing at me.
"I feel welcome, Chieftess Vivienne." I said as I finished my own greetings, her expression disarmed not expecting my show of respect to her, I feel confusion and anxiety within her. I moved to lighten the mood.
"Here are my visitor gifts. matts weaved with great care, with the materials of the Emerald forest." I stacked the mattas, in front of me. I smelled the fruits they were hiding within those sacks is that there gift to me? My gifts seemed to have surprised most of the archer warriors, and the chieftess seemed to have turned even more thoughtful rather than fearful.
Was I not suppose suppose to give gifts? "Little Chieftess of the Honey Rose clan, may you accept me as a guest of your clan?" My words seemed to have changed her mood turning her questioning into one of realization and joy.
"Of course Lord Cloudy! My clan would house you as long as thy wished." After that I began to pick up my gifts, to carry it for them. but the chieftess immediately asked that they should carry the gifts themselves. I thought about it, and then realize it was a traditional honor thing so I relented.
And followed the chieftess, followed behind by the overencumbered Cottorings as I dragged my sled behind me, making them an easily walkable path. and as I walked I rediated my inner flame softly, projecting a psionic pulse that dulls pain, heals stamina, stimulate muscles and clears the mind and heart.
The chieftess was the first to notice, and spoke to me in reverence. "Lord Cloudy. . . I would like to thank you for many things. . . and I know I would thank you for more in the future. but for now we thank you for your blessing." I looked behind me and saw the smiling cottorings giving me there respectful thanks in their own ways.
Act 3 Guest:
It's been a few days since they welcomed me, but sadly even there great hall which was almost nine meters tall was to small to house me, as I learned was the traditional way of housing there guests. . . Camellia told me it was a great lost of honor for there chieftess who had welcome me personally that I wasn't able to be given sanctuary within there clan hall.
That's why I am now helping them make a bigger clan hall, the old one was made of wooden logs, using the large clan tree as the main support, beam building like a large Teepee wooden tent, it's floor was of a foundation of logs, strengthened with a clay and hay mixture, similar to its walls, the building was a large tent like circular triangle, Staked on the hardened ground, and ending on the lower trunk of the elder tree.
"chieftess Vivienne, is it really fine for me to re-make your clan hall?" I asked as I dragged my sled Filled with palm size clumps of black clay. for me, they were fist size or a little bigger, but I worry as I looked at the commoner cottorings with there little bows slung at there back, keeping clay lumps much bigger than them from falling of my sled.
"Our Hall was unfinished, yet to be decorated by our clans crafters, yet to be blessed by our priests of our gods and spirits or have been traditionally feasted in by all of our clanswomen, allies and neighbors. . . simply said it is but an unfinished shell. . . I want to express my gratitude again for your help in it's improvement." She spoke slowly as I marched back to there clan centre, for we had needed to go to one of the floodplains of the black river to gather the quality clay that the crafters had needed to make the foundations of there new hall in the design I had told them.
That is something of an oddity that I had discovered, this clan of cottorings seemed to be very skill in there crafts, but they seem to be lacking knowledge. as there level of tech seems to be in the High bronze age base on their best goods, like the cloaks and bladed spears of there elite warrior which they call their swords, but from what they know of how to make, it seems there closer in the late neolithics of old earth. . . is it an early apocalypse? like the 22nd century energy apocalypse? where humanity needed to re-learn how to make everything that wasn't powered by a mill.
"Lord Cloudy. . . Can I ask if your part of a pantheon? Back in our homelands in the first age, the gods walk among mortals, but now after the fall, the gods show themselves less. . ." She did not continue, so I was right, a great disaster had broken there civilization and scattered them. what I'm seeing now are those who's trying to rebuild things.
"No, I am not part of a pantheon, and I already told you Chieftess Vivienne, I am no god just a wondering mortal with power magic." She did not even humor me with a rebuttal, to my denial of godhood, they really believe me as similar to the gods they worship and existed in there lore.
And from the things I've seen them do, it made me believe that there gods really do exist. . . Like come on, I saw a Cottontail priest healing a huntress who got her legs clawed. By chanting a prayer to a god with the epithet Bone-mender.
The priests had a Psi-gate but no core, but somehow, a fully made healing projection had come out of his psionic heart gate, and healed the injured huntress.
So after seeing more use of there magic, I believe the gods they worshiped are real and they're worshipers are connected to them via there psi-gates. Which means. . . Okay I might be closer to being there version of a god, than I thought, but I won't be arrogant enough to admit it!
"You know if given enough psi. . . I mean magic, you can probably become as powerful as I am." I said lightly, almost jokingly.
But I was seriously believing my guess of what a god is in there civilization, and it just means a psionically capable entity powerful enough to create projections and send it through the immaterial sea and into the hands of their followers.
"I'm already in my mid years as an adult, yet I have only started my path as a third cycle, Sword of my clan. . . I think even if I trained and devoted myself more in the warriors path, I would only reach the peak of the fourth cycle, of a Clan Sword." I was right there warriors really does call themselves Clan-swords, and they embody it through and through. . . Man this is cool. It's like I'm in an old earth, The 1000 film! where a thousand shields, repelled the armies of an empire.
"Why does your people call your elite warriors 'Swords'? Does it have a deeper meaning than a woman that earns there bread through the sword? Rather than the plow or crook" I asked her as I stopped and picked up a small fallen branch that was as long as my leg and as thick as my arms.
As I did, I felt Vivienne become thoughtful, to my question. Her light brown furred face serious and unreadable. they really are less human than my gene-children, yet there still human enough to earn my affection and oath.
"Every adult in our clan from the elders to the newly blooded youths, are considered a Bow, a clan warrior. . . A person that would protect the herd and young of the clan no matter what." She was telling me this in a voice she seemed to have practice on the teaching, of the young of her clan.
"Unlike in the first age, where a citizen only needed to take one path and fully Excel at it, and past there mastery to there descendants. . .Now, a clan member needs to be more than a herder, a farmer, a crafter, a trader, a leader, a priest, everyone needed to become a warrior to survive. A clan member needs to be more than what their ancestors used to be, for the clan to remain free and survive." She closed her eyes as she spoke with both passionate pride and mournful sorrow in equal measure.
"I understand." I told her as I remember the stories my grandfather told me, as one of the last survivors of one of the darkest period of humanity. And the destruction and rebuilding I went through during the the rising era, of the united states of greater continental of earth.
It seems my sincerity reached her, as she relaxed enough to stop hiding her serious perpetually frowning face.
I looked away from her toward the distance and saw the boundary trees, but my guides seems to not see them yet, or familiar enough with the area to know were they are, as they actually moved towards a circling path, towards there clan centre.
Well I was enjoying our outings, so where's the harm with talking with them more? rather than leading them towards a faster path. "Does that mean all Swords are considered noble? And the Bows as commoners?" I asked her because I did notice there was a hierarchical system in there clan, but it was rather confusing as it had many elements of the ones I know of back on old earths political historical records, but different.
She gave short laugh and the others a larger laughed at my question. "Apologies, Lord Cloudy. But from your questions it really does make it more true that your a real foreign god that had never met with are own." Odd, why would she come to such a conclusion?
My confusion was noticed by one of our escorts, as she spoke up for the first time. "Only the gods or spirits of trickery can lie, Lord Cloudy. And from what you have shown us, your similar to the children of our Earth God Aknyald The weaver of the earth." She stopped as Vivienne there chieftess gave a whistle, of alertness.
"I apologize Lord Cloudy, but the priests and lore keeper had asked that they be the one to tell you about our goddesses, so for you to not have an impure image of them." Vivienne told me as she met my eyes and then once she had finished talking looked at the younger clanswomen who had looked worried and upset not fearful of her clan leader.
Act 4 Crafters:
I was at the clan centre, building a drying rack, for the black clay blocks that the clan crafters were shaping and damn there good at it. they were all standardized in size and dimensions, but they needed 4 crafters and atleast one of them needed to be a priest of the Earth weaver Aknyald, which is an appropriate epithet for him based on what his followers known for.
I let those thoughts pass through me as I finished pegging the last suport stake, and then I started placing the shelves on the stakes, and then hammering and tying them tightly together, after which I grabbed my sun dried and fire harden pot, and circulated my inner flame into it making whatever inside to boil, and the clay pot's simple runic decoration to glow a light orange red.
And then I used a brush made out reeds and wood to lather the freshly built rack with a black thick viscous, sweet and minty scented, glossy lightly reflective liquid. as I painted it on the rack, it quickly started to harden becoming more stone like as it dried.
"Lord Cloudy?" I heard to voice of one the rare male cottorings, and looked down from my work, after fully spreading the last bit of the resin tar mixture, some of was still on the brush, I left it in the pot.
"Oh? Hello there head craftsman, do you need anything?" I asked politely as placed down my proofing pot and sat down so I can be closer to the clansman.
"Lord. . . I just wanted to asked what are your lathering on the wood rack? it seems to be turning the wood into stone!" I looked at him he was excited, and I felt his extreme curiosity and then thought about that bullshit, first directive that a bunch of old blood politicians made me and the other pioneers, to swear upon before we left the system. . . yeah I'm gonna share this one.
"It's called Tar-Ember a way of giving wood, a level of fire-resistance. here let me show you, hop on." I lend out my hand and he jumped on it, I placed him on my shoulder and let him watch me work. I opened my pot to show a boiling mixture of Charcoal Tar, different tree Resins, some rock lime dust, salts, black stone sand and wood ash.
"This is Tar-Ember, it's a mixture of a lot of things, but mainly Charcoal Tar and Tree resins." The pot was mostly a black slowly boiling bubbly thick gravy like liquid as I described it to him.
"Why are you boiling it Lord Cloudy?" He asked as he thought about the sweet smelling, yet disgusting looking liquid.
"It is a very sensitive building Material Head crafter, it would turn to jelly quickly if not contentiously boiled, and if it interacts with the open air, it could become permanently calcified. Like so." I stopped circulating my psionics into the pot stopping it's boiling making it visibly jellify from a thick soup to a jelly and hardening further, I closed it and then made it boil again and then opened it.
"See? it quickly hardened now let me show you. . ." I was about to show him what would happen if it hardens in the open air, using a stick, but then I felt the presence of the clan chieftess.
I looked at that direction where I felt her and saw she was riding her land bird, a long tail feathered flightless chicken analog, much like those I have hunted but with less sharpened beaks.
And she was with her circle and a number of elders, and from what I feel from there gates, everyone of them was a priest and the weakest only had a good connection to there god.
"Let's talk again later Head Crafter, it seems the clan chieftess has need of Me." I told him softly as I placed him down and placed the Tar-Ember pot near him.
"My magic would warm it for atleast a couple of days, use that tap if you want some of it." I pointed to a small wooden upward tap that has a cork on it.
He looked at the direction of the leader and gave me a bow and a heartfelt thank you before going back to his group of crafters and continued to shape the black clay lumps into standardized bricks.