The Campaign Builder's Guild

A large island; primordial beasts, men fending off with them; catastrophes and miracles. It's a good summary.
I have something of a fascination with ancient history. And this is a way for me, in sorts, to quench the thirst. So new fluff comes from time to time. I just hope you like it. :)


Stone Age
[note]Anything in italic is in-setting and thus said in the interlocutor's currently used language of thought, write or speech.[/note]
This world –technology level- will be mostly inspired by the Chalcolithic period.
Though, copper is not widely used just yet by all peoples, and many use the material primarily to craft objects of arts and meaning.

Spiritualism
Many different people inhabit the island-continent and their beliefs in life and the afterlife may differ greatly. While generally a superstitious bunch, some are more than others, and their religious practices vary in intensity and frequency.

There is, however, one truth behind all the stories. Soul is something as much shared as belonging to something. Everything has a soul, and a soul is everything. When a man dies, his soul still lingers until its material shell is too weak from the decomposition process, at which time it disperses into the collective energy, which is also a soul in itself. The Collective Energy, a sort of source-of-all-souls that cannot normally be seen nor touched, and is in fact quite difficult to explain as a matter, can, and will, react dynamically with individual souls. It would be sufficient to say that everything is recycled, to some extent and in some form or another.

Therefore, there is no afterlife like the commonly known concepts of heaven and hell, but only continuation. The many people of Primeval would chastise me for saying that.

The Lands Beyond
Traveling "beyond" is an adventure most are afraid of. However, some now have their eyes set on the horizon, or above, and are preparing their long and ambitious journey into the unknown.

The main landmass of this world covers an area of about four million and a half (4 500 000) kilometers square. It's diverse in ecology and climate, ranging from arid and barren landscapes to lush rainforests.

This island-ish continent has a few features of note, the most prominent being the Lever Noir; a constantly active volcano of considerable size right in the middle of the island.
Just north of the crust left by the volcano, which has accumulated over centuries, is a river that stretches all the way to the north, ending in the northern sea. Its waters also flow northward. It's generally called the Great River by those who live in its vicinity.
To the west of this river lies one of the greatest architectural creations of man. A ziggurat so immense and magnificent that first time visitors are almost always stricken with awe. The Jamibians, who live in the area, call it the Stairway to Heaven.
East of the Lever Noir, in the Jungle Verde, stands a tree so tall it seems to touch the sky. The tree itself is inhabited, its man-carved holes serving as houses and its branches as bridges between habitations. Its residents have baptized the tree Gaya.
To the extreme west, there is a strange crater. It seems to be "walled" by mountains that were once there, but of which now only remains little. Tall trees grow in there, and the canopy hides whatever lies within. People that live nearby say it's a dangerous place. They call it the Baturapi.



It has been thousands of years since the first man set foot on this vast territory. In general, most people agree that their ancestors are likely to have landed on the islands that make up the archipelago on the northwestern part of the main landmass, and many a story recount that it is from these heavenly beaches that their first heroes battled the dangers of the sea to finally land on the continent, to face even greater danger. Such stories are often a source of pride and even though these ancient and mysterious days are long gone, many elders tell the tale with a nostalgic tear in their eye.

It should be obvious that the various clans that flourished during this early period were not always on peaceful terms with each other. But there seems to be a constancy in the tales of then; they were highly cooperative, and all-out war was rare, if even existent at all. However the constancy is lost when we arrive at the scorched desert.  And there many names are summoned, and many personalities are evoked, but it would seem that the importance of the fraternal relationship between the tribes had greatly diminished, and some set for the coast north of the desert, while others, in probably greater numbers, went south.

From then on, it would seem that the Bas (the people that went southward) and the Hot (the people that went eastward) gradually peopled the whole continent. The Bas reached the wet jungles of the deep south, only to meet the infinite sea that laid on the horizon. They also met strange peoples to the east, below the titanic volcano that served as a landmark. These peoples were surely Hots, although no one was sure, and, in any case, Hots weren't really known as Hots.

The Hots were, although seemingly lesser in number than their south-going cousins, quicker settlers, and went across the desert and the Manugayatru to finally reach the Jijibaeh, an imposing mountain range south of the Jungle Verde.

The tall mountains of the northeast were long peopled by the Hots, but advances unto the peninsula's southern tip were slow, and even slower was the peopling of the islands, one of them huge, south of it.

This is a general history of demographics, and in no way does it take into account the devastating loss of people after the fall of the Baturapi that left an important crater and decimated entire tribes beside the Lever Noir; the Banghambu wave that sunk the southern jungles; the constant eruptions of the Lever Noir; the Cataclysm of the southern island; and the droughts that occur repetitively along the edges of the Jamibian desert. Among other catastrophes.



Jamibia is a long stretch of sand and dunes, spotted with the occasional maquis and savannahs. The Great River separates its western part from the eastern one. This river has long been a nest for mankind; its banks and immediate surroundings being more favourable to survival than the harsh deserts that expand to the east and the west.
West of the Great River lies tall mountains, first giant dunes but then maquis where a limited flora allows for survival.

Here, civilization is quite advanced; with social traditions based on a hierarchical system; various dialects, but a common (or official/preferred) tongue; art and letters of their own; and a serious worship of the God-King, Jamibia. While subcultures are indeed many, understandably so since the land covered is so vast, the people are united under the rule of Jamibia.
Slavery is a common thing here, and more common even is that most of them come from the north, where the Great River plunges into the ocean. These slaves are tormented day and night and their numbers dwindle. While it is true that most are treated with much disrespect, they can take pride in that they built the most magnificent and imposing structure man has ever made; the Stairway to Heaven, a ziggurat of immense proportions that acts as tribute to the Sun God and the God-King.

Life here is rather good if you are not from an enslaved family. As a recognized citizen, you can eat well enough and always have shelter.
Some select families have been elevated to a sort of noble rank and serve the God-King directly, helping him in his administrative duties. It seldom happens, but the God-King sometime enjoys the company of others and so, at times, loyal subjects are invited to stand at his side as advisers and whatnot. Note, however, that they would never dare think of themselves as advisers, but rather friends that will speak when asked to, for elevating one self to the same level, or higher, than Jamibia is sure to anger his divine person and bring holy wrath upon one's self.


A vast verdant jungle, strewn with rivers and ecologically rich and diversified, the region known as the Jungle Verde spans miles and miles. It's surrounded by mountains. Some, like the Lever Noir, are monstrously gigantic and pose as obvious borders between the jungle and what lies beyond.

Mankind can prosper here, despite the wide spectrum of dangerosities that make their lair in the territory's lush greenery and opaque underbrush. Most seem to have concentrated around Gaya, a tree of stunning magnitude. Within lives countless families, forever waging wars to lift their families to the starry skies that they say holds the power to godhood. Although from a foreigner's perspective the people might seem peaceful and united, it is far from so.

Rain is abundant here, and because of this the flora and fauna is extremely rich. Surviving here is more about knowing what is dangerous; like poisonous ingredients; voracious and aggressive animals; and competing clans.


It is an unforgiving land of unbearable heat and blurry sights. Its ground is layers upon layers of solidified magma, aerial creature droppings and boiling geysers. Even today more layers come to install themselves upon previous ones, slowly, but surely adding to the height of this plateau that is already impressive in height.

Mankind does not live there, nor should it. Strange beasts, mostly aerial, make their nest in this hellish land. Adventuring there is foolish, especially since the ever-active Lever Noir imposes its towering self right in the middle, continually spitting its infernal fluids all over the place.


Many hundreds of years ago, it was usual to see red sparks from the Lever Noir light the skies from time to time, but one night an unusual crimson dot lit up in the sky, and it only seemed to get bigger...

Hours passed and some realized doom was nigh. They held hands, danced and chanted, prayed and even sacrificed while the strange celestial body raced towards them at amazing speed. The impact would have been brief for them, for the comet had dug deep and wide into the very crust of the earth. The hole that it had created spanned for miles and miles and described a near perfect circle.

Today, the alien structure that came crashing is called the Baturapi, and its hole -which holds the same name- is entirely hidden by canopy. It is said that weird beasts wander inside, but also that the glowing flora is a sight that takes the breath away.


This gigantic island, southeast of the main landmass, had a natural wealth equaling places like the Jungle Verde. However, it's now mostly barren. The forests and plains of high grass are gone, now replaced with dirt and rock. There are circulating tales that tell of a cataclysmic event.

Hidden by mountains and almost entirely covered with fog, this swampy region has been forgotten by men, or by most of them, at least. Its damp forests are soaked in water and traversed by the Allway Bayou, a long river with countless "branches" that vein the entire territory, which looks like a leaf when seen from high above.

Those who live on the other side of its northern borders claim that abominations live in this hidden land. Stories of gutless, eyeless, headless men and animals are abundant, and their wailing is ever present in these tales, hence the naming of the place the Wailing Marshes.

This eerie place is not easily accessible, and the atrocities it seems to house make people think twice about adventuring on its grounds. Most prefer to keep to the waterways, but even its waters are tainted by the foul stench of evil.


Overseeing the Bay of Serenity and the eastern Sea, as well as the Manugayatru that walls the Jungle Verde, the Shekayah Mountains lies in the mountainous peninsula on the northeastern part of the continent. It is a very wild environment, with bears, felines, parrots and other exotic animals making the most of the region inhabitants. Though, long ago men established small communities and have since thrived in this otherwise dangerous place. These men are those we call the Shekayahs. They keep to themselves and follow strange long-standing traditions.

Primeval is not all about humans, although I seem to make this point at times. Here I will put a few brief descriptions (and perhaps further detail them in the future) of these monsters that lurk in the dark places of this world.

[ic=The Moaner]This creature is humanoid in appearance, and would seem like a lazy man from afar, walking slowly and in a sloppy manner, though from up close one would call this thing an abomination. Its skin, or the parts that remain attached to its body, is pale. Some of the organs are missing, or in a decomposed state.

They don't seem to be intelligent, and are often seen walking right into obstacles and tripping on obvious logs. Sometimes they fall right into water bodies, face down and seemingly incapable of swimming. Their outstretched movements cause them many misfortunes.

Although they do possess a kind of weird language, they don't seem to communicate between themselves. The only sound they seem capable of emitting is a guttural moaning that comes from the throat. Those who don't possess a throat don't seem to be able to make any sound.[/ic]

[ic=Ashbark]Around the periphery of the Crust, especially to the south on the Jungle Verde border, exists a rare breed of tree. These trees actually weren't always as such. They became what they are, rather than being born as they are.

Burned, these trees are piles of ashes, glowing fiery red as they are caressed by the wind. They feel as though alive, animated by some strange, primal energy. Yes, animated, but not quick and witty. Just like their more ordinary peers they stand idle, but when living bodies that irradiate a lot of heat comes near them, they seem to want to fall on them, and eventually do, inflicting painful burns upon their victims as well as filling their mouth and nose with ashes, causing suffocation.

One can make them out easily. They are light gray, like the ashes of a burnt log, and have no canopy. It is said that men who succumb to this tree's deadly attack will be reborn as Ashbark themselves.[/ic]

[ic=Arachnokos]Of a translucent, very light white, these tiny spiders are incredibly vicious. Their quasi-transparency and negligible size makes them extremely difficult to spot, and their bite releases a deadly toxin that is enough to kill a horse.

The insect may possibly originate from Padassos, though it is unknown how for they seem to keep away from water. It's possible they might have been brought on the mainland by the recent influx of Padassians.

Their preferred habitat is dense forests, which adds to their being difficult to sight.[/ic]

[ic=Kratas]The sighting of one of these is a rare occurrence, to be sure. Hiding deep within the bright flats of the desert, they only come out to meet the sun, it is said, each thousand years. For long they have been the stuff of legends, their bipedal immensity (About 200 feet in height), rock-solid skin, sharp claws and fangs and empty yellow eyes striking fear into the hearts of men.

Legend also has it that if the Sun-God wills it, he may abstain from smiting down these invincible titans and let them run rampant to punish mankind for their misdeeds.[/ic]

Achieving Mantra is next to impossible. This state of being is achieved through unlocking chakras for which tapping into the collective energy is necessary, and that is already an amazing feat in itself. Someone that acquires the power of Mantra radiates the divine and inspires awe. He has some control over the collective energy and can therefore tap into this source to produce extraordinary effects.

Chakra
Chakras are vortexes of energy, or gateways, in and on the body that link the individual soul to the collective one. Unlocking different chakras grant different effects, but none are harmful. There is a great number of ways to unlock chakras.






Catastrophes are commonly believed to be envoys of some greater power. He who watches delivers his messages in dreadful ways, and they are received with utmost caution, for their power supposedly bears meaning.

Their form vary, sometimes taking the form of a huge tidal wave flooding lands entire; or moving earth that causes major quakes; or spitting mountains whose unstoppable flows of unbearable heat propagate in all directions, threatening all life that lays in its way. At times they look like humanoids of fire, ice or mud. And sometimes they take under more mundane forms, like the miniature tornadoes whose strength cannot lift more than a few dried leaves. But they have meaning, or so they say...

Understanding Catastrophes
They are, in fact, what many other campaign settings would describe as Elementals. They are dormant entities that, when provoked, will rise and unleash their chaotic and unfathomable powers upon the world, decimating entire races at times. These "energies" have a proper parent element.






Ghosts exist in this world. Some appear in the material world under gaseous form, while others look like their original self from the mortal world. Each ghost has a different purpose; some of them have vile intents while others merely wish to guide and advise.

[ic=The Frontier Wars]The Frontier Wars is the term that defines the current geopolitical situation of the God-King – who repels the demonic invasion from the south, fights a rebellion in his easternmost territories and tries to make advances in the west. The latter is pretty much an abandoned project, but with the other two fronts calming down, many usher rumours of a flame rekindled; the sparkle in the God-King's eyes as he dreams of basking in the waters of the Heaven Stream.[/ic]

[ic=Jamibia, the God-King]One of the people's favourite tale is that of the birth of the God-King and his heroic acts that led to the unification of the tribes along the Great River, and farther away even, to put a halt on the supremacy of the northern, oppressive people of the Logosu.

Born from parents on the run, the God-King's early life is one of many hardships. Apparently, the tribe from which he hails was sought out by the Logosu who thought that eating their flesh and drinking their blood bestowed upon them supernatural powers that made them stronger than others.

After many years on the run, he and his parents, as well as others, were captured by the Logosu and brought to the coastal village of Regesh. It was then that his mother and father were treated in vile manners and finally executed, in front of his very eyes. Weirdly enough they dared not free him from his cage like the others, so that they could use him for manual labour. Instead they would nag and torture him daily, hopefully shattering his will and sink him into despair. However, their tactic seemed not to work. Quite the opposite in fact, with every insult and injure he grew in ferocity. According to some elders, it was strange that he was kept alive for so long, being the troublesome prisoner that he was, and none really knows the reason for this.

Jamibia, the mortal name of the God-King, had the sympathy of his fellow slaves and tribesmen who had not died yet and had seen the torment he was inflicted. It took one simple turn of a hand to liberate the man. It was Ruobingo, a slave messenger of little importance that set the man free at night.

Upon his illicit release he freed all the other slaves and slaughtered those who had done them, and their close ones, wrong. The carnage was silent and very much one sided; the Logosu did not foresee such a sneaky, yet ferocious attack.

After his impulse he fled towards his place of birth, the mountains and maquis of the desert, with many of the freed slaves to start life anew. But the thirst for revenge was greater than he would admit openly, and no one was fool enough to think they were safe from the northern cannibals. It was decided that the Logosu people needed to be eradicated. However it was impossible, with their current numbers, to make this reality. So they set to forge alliances with the different tribes that live along the Great River, most of which also struggle with the Logosu.

After weeks of negotiations and meetings, the God-King finally persuaded the different local powerholders that his cause, as much as his person, was just and divine and that they needed to be rid of the slavers up north. He was able to gather the necessary resources and political power to launch an invasion of the north to try and subjugate his most heinous enemies.

Great battles were fought over many weeks, and his army advanced steadily until it reached the final battle, where it was concluded that only divine beings may battle other divine beings. Jamibia and Lugo, suzerain of the Logosu people, fought before their armies, showing their martial skills. For a few seconds the battle seemed to be a close one, but Jamibia quickly took the advantage, anger and madness undeniably defining his facial traits and ferocity.

Lugo was ultimately beaten, and his people made prisoners. There were hundreds of them, but those allied with Jamibia were even more numerous. The cannibal sovereign was given a terrible death sentence where his own men would punch him until the newly acclaimed God-King was satisfied. War, the demands of the people and his beliefs compelled him to slaughter the majority of the prisoners, and he did so in such a cold way that it would, in fact, change him forever and turn some of his more moderate allies against him.

The God-King returned to the place he found most comfortable, the Maquis of Heaven, to found Maga Jamibia, the new centre of civilization. He demanded tribute and loyalty from his allies, which he now considered vassals, of a sort. He made his mother-tongue the one true tongue; developed a written form for his language that used glyphs and numerics; set up a social hierarchy that allowed him limitless power; and forbid the worship of any but the Sun God, of whom he was a mortal representative.

While some actions he undertook did not please some of his allies, they generally held him in high regards and would often end up thinking it was for the best. That, they still do. His most loyal vassals commissioned a temple be built as tribute to him and his father, the Sun. This temple, a ziggurat of considerable size, was named the Stairway to Heaven, and is the God-King's prime tool to spread his influence.

[/ic]

[ic=The Padassian Disaster - First Part]The dais on which sat the man who had conquered the most powerful tribes of Padassos was richly decorated; with precious stones carved into the intricate patterns of the mahogany throne; with carpets made from the skins of tigers and panthers; and with luminous sorcery brightening the hollow eyes of animal trophies. A score of mostly naked men shouldered the platform, bringing the king wherever he desired.

The man who sat on the throne, no more than thirty years of age, claimed a most noble ancestry. From the ancients he had inherited frightening powers and a right to rule. He was bald and muscular; tall and tanned; and wore very little. A radiant white cloth made of silk hung from his waist to hide his manly parts and a pair of caligae protected his feet. Both his ears and his nose were pierced, and he sported finely crafted bone decorations.

It's in this manner that he emerged from the southern jungles into the vast plains leading to Harnaxes with an army of tattooed and masked exhibitionists to finally become the ruler of the lands. Through the green expanse until the Lympian heights, where a fierce tribe would fight to near extinction; through the lavender waters of the Purple River to the narrow coastal passage that is the Valor Pass and into the Asinas mountains, where their battle cries had been heard for the last time; Perses, the young and powerful leader from the south, had defeated his enemies and united the various tribes of Padassos under his rule.

However, even that was not enough for the ambitious king. He saw himself as a divine being, better than his peers in every way. Only a few weeks after he had subjugated the most powerful clans of the continent island he called for an assembly in Harnaxes, where all subjects were ordered to kowtow and hail him as the only true god. To assert his dominance over his people, he called forth five thousand shackled men and lined them up between he and those assembled. At the snap of his finger, his loyal army beheaded these prisoners of war. It was a carefully prepared spectacle meant to intimidate his subjects. The message could not be clearer: oppose me and you shall die.

But such a cruel act would soon have repercussions that even the self-made god, in his frenzy to be seen as divine, did not foresee. Rebellious thoughts clouded the mind of quite a few important men, whether they were from the conquered tribes or from the tyrant's own entourage.

    [/ic]

[ic=The Padassian Disaster - Second Part]Months passed and a plot was brewing. Individuals with the desire, the means and influence gathered secretly to plan the removal of Perses. It was widely agreed that they would need the guidance of the ancients to rival the tyrant's great powers. The founders of their people would have to be called down on earth, that in itself being an amazing feat, and persuaded that a direct descendant had become corrupt.

They struck on the eve of Perses' scheduled second Declaration. Reunited with the self-acclaimed god in his royal chambers for preparations, they performed a complex ritual to summon the ancients and seal the king's powers away. However, Perses was not to be undone so easily. Even through his induced trance he could sense that something wrong was going on. He fought the ancients in a battle of wills and prevailed. As he awoke, his detractors had nearly tapped into his soul, the final step before completely removing his spiritual essence which gave him his amazing powers. In a rage he screamed and repelled their spiritual invasion, not seeing that he was releasing an insane amount of essence.

What followed is uncertain. What is certain, however, is that the second Declaration never happened. The whole island had been ravaged overnight; its forests and grasslands now barren wastes, its waters poisoned; and the air heavy. Even the sky had changed from the usual clear blue to a dark purple and the clouds from white to dark grey.

People had changed too. They were now only an image of their former self. Their translucent bodies glowing with spiritual essence like the spirits of their ancients. They could pass through matter and felt no need to sleep nor eat.

Perses was still of this world, as was his detractors. But neither of them knew how to get rid of the other. It is ironic that Perses would live as an equal among his peers, and that his peers would have to live in a world where the tyrant still existed.[/ic]

[ic=The Padassian War]The people of the continent-island had not been united for centuries, the founders having broken into a few distinctive clans as they spread throughout the land. Remembering only vaguely that they once were one, the leaders of those groups now sought to dominate the others and rule supreme, their ambitions well served by the legendary past.

One of the kings, Alibarsanes, inherited the kingdom of his father Orodontases and his claim on the most noble of all bloodlines; that of Padassos, the legendary warrior who had arrived from the distant north to settle on the fertile lands of the central plains. He could count on a battle-proven cavalry to protect his realm, and on his claim to nobility to remain in power. However, stories made their way into the confined chambers of the royal palace in Harnaxes that an upstart king from the southern jungles also claimed such noble ancestry. It had been a priority of his to deny the southern king, Perses by name, access to the grasslands of his home. But a propaganda war to incite a rebellion was not his only worry. To the north, past the Purple River and into the Lympian heights lived a fierce mountain tribe led by the courageous Tripaeus. The barbarians descended every spring into the rolling hills on the southern side of the river to raid. It was important for Alibarsanes to deploy resources to protect his subjects, for his power also derived from being able to project power everywhere in his kingdom. If the barbarians were not dealt with, the ripple effect would be catastrophic.

As if both nuisances were not enough, another key player had recently made his entry into the politics of the great Padassian leaders. Mattidus and his tribe resided on the Asinas mountains past the Valor Pass. They had long kept to themselves and communicated primarily with the barbarians of the Lympian heights. However, stories have it that a deal was struck between the two tribes where, after oaths were exchanged, they agreed to simultaneously raid the central plains, thus opening a new front in the west where Alibarsanes would be forced to deploy resources.

At first only the three leaders battled, but as the war dragged on and all parties involved saw their resources diminish, Perses appeared on the plains of Oyomos and forced Alibarsanes to assemble his mighty army to face his. The powerful leader was in a pinch. Perses had at last shown himself and thus had become the prime threat, but both Mattidus and Tripaeus still wrecked havoc on his lands. He would have to deal with the young king swiftly, so, in a move that would prove to be disastrous, he recalled all his men to fight on the Oyomos plains.

The legends of Padassos tell that their people once had extraordinary powers; lifting elephants with a few fingers, breathing green fire and persuading even the most stubborn of men, for example. All of that had been thought to be legend, but Perses himself shown Alibarsanes that such power still resided within the true descendant of the ancients.

The conqueror, an hereditary title of the king of the central plains, had most of his army wiped by the sorcery of the young king. What everyone thought to be the most powerful army the world would ever know was reduced to nothingness by just a few hundred sorcerers. He finally submitted, only to be executed. The conqueror was no more.

Upon hearing this, the barbarians -while courageous and proud, were above all highly practical- surrendered without a fight and pledged to serve the true descendant of Padassos. A few pockets of resistance still dotted the land, but Perses had won the war and he wasted no time in asserting his dominance over his new subjects with Declarations.[/ic]

[ooc=Comment]Primeval has been on hiatus for about a year now, but I've recently had some inspiration for it. It was one of my first projects, and I think it has potential. So I will be working on it again and hopefully make it into something cool and somewhat authentic.

And yeah, there should be more coming in the near future.[/ooc]

Looks awesome!  I have a ton of questions, but I'll wait until you post more, since you'll probably answer most of them.

[ooc=Comment]Added a map of the place on which I focus my attention and a small primer on a few prominent features.[/ooc]

Awesome map.  So you've got a shield volcano?  Is it a typical one or a pyroclastic one?  Also (not mentioned), it looks like you quite a large river system in th east; is that like an amazon/oronoco flow type thing?  Can we expect a rain forest there?  What do the natives say about the island to the southeast?

[ooc=Answer to Humabout's questions]Interesting questions, here are some answers.

On the volcano question, I would say it's a cross between typical and shield volcano. It's typical, though it erupts huge amounts of fluid lava, like shield volcanoes, that solidify and form pyroclastic rock. In fact, reaching the Lever Noir is nearly impossible, and getting there means climbing to the plateaus that its flows created over the centuries.

Yes, where there is a lake and a network of rivers going three ways is a jungle (the Jungle Verde). A tropical rainforest you could say. The rivers, I guess, could be compared in some ways to both of those you mentioned, but their configuration isn't the exact same obviously. Also, at first glance it's hard to tell, but you can see the Gaya tree on the western banks of the lake.

Information on the southern island is coming, and I think it's going to interest you very much. I won't spoil anything for the moment.

And yeah, the map is pretty cool, thanks to Kapt'n'Lath.[/ooc]

How old is the ziggurat? If it's really huge, it must have been built by a rather advanced (for the era) and wealthy civilization - one that'd been around a lengthy time before the construction even begun. Assuming there were no supernatural forces involved, of corse.

[ooc=Answer to Ghostman's question]
Good question Ghostman.

Construction of the main structure has been finished for about half a century now, and finished is a strong word. Everyday, skilled workers and slaves beautify the structure; by carving symbols and drawings into the sun-died mud-bricks, or applying colourful dyes on the glyphs, or by carefully placing altars and artifacts in the complex, and expanding it.

Construction on this -monument- was started about twelve decades ago, when Jamibi unified the Jamibians. In truth, a stunning majority of the workers were slaves. But few slaves are left on the main structure now. They are mostly busy expanding the structure by building temples around the site.

Edit: Also, there isn't nearly as many slaves as there were at the peak of the main structure's construction. Most have gone to other tasks throughout the past years or died. It's possible some rose to what could be considered "respectful citizens".[/ooc]

The subtitle is "Clash of Civilizations."  Which civilizations are clashing and how?  And where?  And why?

I really like this feel. I have always wanted to play in a setting where civilization was just beginning to get off the ground. I am also eager to see more posted.

[ooc=Reply]@Humabout: I meant to write something on this yesterday, but was in a hurry and left. Though I did give it some thoughts and I think I don't really have to mention much about it. It's sort of a... theme. See my Imperialism section to give yourself an idea. Besides, alot of the information I will be dropping here will end up answering your question.

Thanks Horse, I should be making available more stuff in the coming days.[/ooc]