Board Thread:Short Stories/@comment-26108027-20181112162918

Or, well, the beginning. Our text-keepers aren't quite sure what it was. So, we just call it "The Fall". The Fall of the Bugs and Beepers that they left behind. The Fall of their Zappers and Boomers. The Fall into darkness.

It is the year 8783. The Forest both brings about life, and harnesses death. It has overtaken the ancient colonies, growing into them as It expands Its ever-changing empire. We simply exist within It, slaves to our dear Mother's whim.

There are those who have harnessed Mother Nature's gifts, and used them in different ways to better their lives.

The Champions of Ash are one such people.

They were the first to find the spark of passion that the Forge-King Reorx had created. With this spark, he placed it deep within our Mother's flesh to breathe life back into her, and in return she gave him the gift of Metal. He formed his own colony, working with Metal to create protective armors and strong weapons. They now rely on Mother to protect their boundaries with the ever-reaching spires on her mountains as they work with their destructive forces to prepare for a war that will never come. They have changed since the Fall to better suit their constant, dangerous work.

The Children of Fawn were right behind them.

They worshipped Mother Nature, killing only to eat and relying on Mother to bring them food in Her soil, and their prayers always brought about a bountiful, healthy harvest. They despised the Champions of Ash for clearing their forests to make way for new territories. They formed a strong bond with Mother in hopes that they would gain Her favor, and were rewarded with a talent of plants and animals. They have changed since the Fall to better suit their environment.

The Reef Walkers were next.

They gathered near the Oceans to live, planting whatever seeds they could find and catching fish in baskets. They are naturally fast but delicate, adapted after generations of practically living in the water. They have lived off of fish and the beach plants they harvest, rarely ever leaving their beaches. They swore their allegiance to the Shaker of Skies, Drizotl. They sacrificed portions of their catch to Him, in return for smooth seas and easy meals.

Finally, we have the Herders.

Wandering people who follow and care for the wild cows who wander the plains. Where the Maben roam, so do they. They tend to their herds daily, sometimes 100-strong to tend to their wounds, offering the sick and old up to Khelios, Guardian of the Herd. They defend their Maben with their lives, following them from the day they are born to the day they die. A lone Herder is often seen leading a Maben, and has a natural aptitude for convincing livestock to obey them.

Those in between are either hardworking villagers, scavengers, or ruthless vagabonds.

Though our Mother may have destroyed those before...

We Are Still Here. 