authors note: this novel I am currently writing is based around the race of the eanko. They live on oddworld, but not in Mudos, and the tribe I write about have never come accross another sentient race, as of yet. A pic of one eanko, an archer, is displayed in this link:
http://www.angelfire.com/hero/esus/EankoArcher.JPG.
The eanko believe in multiple gods, though the most powerful is that of the planet itself, who, tranlated into english, is commonly called the mother earth. They believe her to be female. If you have any questions about this race, please ask them here, comments on the first part of the first chapter of this story will also be appreciated
More pics will arrive over time
Chapter 1
The sun was just beginning to ascend, its bright rays barely visible over the horizon. Most of the sky was covered in thin wispy clouds; it was as if somebody had hastily attempted to conceal the sky from view, to hide its infinite wonders from the curious eyes of the peoples below. In that person’s haste, the job was not done properly, clouds were strewn across the sky, un orderly and thin, so thin that many stars were still visible behind their cloaking.
It was at this time that the fifteen males left the village. Preparations had gone on for months, for this one trip, for this one last hunt. Another ten or so women and children were at the rear, carrying heavy bags, strange tools, and many carrying their tired young children, who had been startled by a night awakening, only to be carried across a boring wilderness by their mothers. The air hung heavy, it was cold, damp, the morning dew of the grass wetting the hooves and legs of most of the people, and barely anyone spoke. They knew the trek would be long, boring, hard and weary and that gave them heavy hearts. Once they had reached their destination, they could rejoice, it would be a time of fun, only to have to trek all the way back, to their small village where the lucky could stay and “guard” it from intruders.
Teno led the group, he carried a long bow, which was stew over his left shoulder, and in his right was a large heavy wooden quiver, full of arrows, each long and light. Most of the men were equipped this way, though some opted for simply carrying a very long, almost awkward, spear. Teno was light-blue/white in colour, like everyone else, his eyes were fierce and his mouth set, the feathers glued expertly onto his head held high and stiff, bright red at the bottom of the feather, slowly changing in colour until they were golden yellow at the top. He wore an old loincloth, it was beige, made from various materials and had an intricate pattern weaved into it. Some said the patterns on loin cloths were really letters from old. Stories that their ancestors wrote onto clothes through means of embroidery so they were never forgotten, but if this was true, nobody could read it anymore. It was a tongue lost long ago that only the shaman may know the secrets to, but at the best of times, he was very secretive and concealed. The loincloth was very stiff, many times it had been washed in the local river, and many times it had been awkwardly left to dry, stiffening out, making it uncomfortable to wear. Teno continued to wear it however; he did not care for comfort or for idle pleasures such as clothing.
Most over men also wore loincloths, though they all varied some simply in patterns, some in length, some in colour and some even had feathers attached to it. The shaman wore a great piece of cloth over his shoulders than fell down to beneath his rigid hooves; on the cloth was embroidered many great colourful pictures, many of hunts, one extremely large one of a great unknown animal, one that was rumoured to be taller than 3 people on top of one another. No one had any memory of such an animal, but the cloak in which the great shaman wore had been passed down his family line as long as anyone could remember, and the shaman was the oldest inhabitant of the village, though he was still fast in his pace, and tiredness was never seen in his bright, alert eyes. He carried a great staff of magical properties, everyone knew of its potential power, but it took great skill to wield it, it took great skill to realise its potential. It was a dream catcher.
It was the only dream catcher any of the tribe had ever seen, but they guessed other tribes must have one who wielded such a staff, otherwise, how could their shamans, their respective dream catchers protect the village people from the nightmares of Sohkam? The shaman of this particular village, who travelled with the hunters, would stay up most of the night, dancing in intricate patterns, similar to the patterns on the top of the staff, made from string and beads. His dancing was very effective, after just few minutes, he always captured a nightmare from the evil god Sohkam, letting all the good dreams, ones that always arrived with evil to pass peacefully through the hole in the centre. Once the shaman had a dream captured inside his staff, the rock, carved into a triangular shape would glow a dark purple colour. Each time another nightmare was captured, it glowed more fiercely, but still dark purple, and with the power of the nightmares inside this staff, he could force them out, onto enemies if he willed, causing instant insanity and extreme pain, or into the sky, for them to return to their master. While they walked, the rock on the shaman’s staff was glowing very strongly, and Teno knew that the shaman had not released the nightmares into the sky at sunrise, like he normally did. The shaman was expecting trouble on this trip.
***
Teno released an arrow from his long wooden bow, arching the string of it back immensely far, and the arrow that shot from it was strong enough to rip through an entire wooden house, but on this occasion, it simply down a young gazelle like creature. The eanko never name the animals on their continent, they leave that to the gods, the great mother god of the earth herself, for they feared her wrath too greatly to dare displeasing her. The arrow fired from Tenos bow ripped through the flesh of the smallish animal, killing it instantly. Once he had done that, he went to it and ripped his protruding arrow from its neck, and left the meat for one of the women to cut and serve in their camp, which was metres away. Other men were doing the same, some throwing spears and the shaman sat cross legged, floating one or two feet in the air, meditating, contacting the gods, the over watchers. At Teno went back in the camp, he noticed the women had et it out quickly, there were numerous fires, which for some reason attracted more animals than it was meant to (though it scared the predators alright), and the hearths were set out in uniform order, the highest ranking male in the group would have the first pick of the meat, and however he liked to eat, and that was Teno, the young leader of the great Gladifor tribe of Eanko. He sat by his own hearth, placing his quiver and arrows by the bag his mate had carried and warmed his cold flesh over the fire. His mate had collected his kill, and she walked back strongly in the camp, placed it on the floor and began to cut thin strips of its bright red flesh and place them on large thin stones, ones used for cooking over the centre fire.
Other men had begun to walk, some helping their more weaker mates with the heavy burden of the animal, some just proud to have made a good kill, of a particular large animal, or a particular fit or healthy one. As this happening, the dark blue cloudy sky suddenly became much darker; one of the large moons was exposed, indented onto it a hand, of some unknown creature of the world, and the shaman woke up.
Talk erupted at once.
The ground was dark, brown and rocky, across it lay plants of various types and the odd straggler tree every so often. There wasn’t a stream or river in any direction for miles and this causes Teno to wonder why animals would live here. Why would they spend time here, where there is no water, nothing to drink, and barely any plants either? Grass was sparse, when there was grass, it grew it small little tufts, in a purpled turquoise colour. It was similar to an area of grass near the village of this tribe, it was poisonous to eanko, and they knew that just it touching their skin could cause one to swell up in the area touched, and have a horrid large rash, immensely painful and long-lasting. It was for this reason that Teno wondered why the old shaman would ask for three of the women to go and forage for some. He had woken from his trance, his eyes red and bloodshot, for a few seconds he screamed, as if he was in excruciating pain, or as if he had been dragged through another world, or dimension. Teno didn’t know how he could do what he did, he didn’t understand the laws of the gods, and all he knew was that they had to appease them, for the gods could cause destruction so severe, it was unimaginable.
The women had rushed off quickly, each wondering how they would pick the grass and why the shaman would speak nothing until he was presented with the grass and a mortar and pestle. Teno approached him, somewhat fearfully. He never knew what happened to the shaman in trance, but when he came back, he was always different. Teno couldn’t always describe it, but the shaman seemed to gain authority, he seemed… scary.
“So then, old man, what is it that the gods have said to you?” said Teno in his usual jokey manner,
“Why have the gods decided to disturb us in this once yearly great hunt?”
“You will find out, young leader. But until then, perhaps you could fetch an old man some spare meat” smiled the shaman.
It seemed he was back to his old self, he had evidently put all the events of the trance in a comprehendible order, Teno walked off, somewhat lazily, so see if his wife had finished preparing the meat. It was amazing how fast the people had gone back to preparing dinner, no longer surrounding the shaman; they all knew how secretive he was.
Teno arrived at the main fire soon afterwards; it was only approximately one hundred metres away from the shaman's secluded hearth. Once at the fire, it seemed people hadn't forgotten the trance, like teno had assumed, but most were actually talking about. he could see that his wife was still cooking some of the meat, while helping other women string up different parts of the animal to be smoked, most people liked smoked meat much more than when it was normally cooked, but it always took much longer. Teno sat down, under a straggler of a tree which had a long bendy trunk and a small canopy like bunch of branches at the top. perfect in the day time for protection against the beams of the bright sun.
He watched over his busy camp inconspicuously. it seemed to him that nobody noticed he was watching, but more people were aware of their watchful leader than he thought. As his eyes darted around, he took in the normal evening activities which always took place at one night camp sites. Women who were not working at the main fire place engaged in more activities than Teno knew. Some held young babies to their nipples, letting them suckle at their fresh milk, whilst others were rocking them backward and forward, urging them to sleep, often laying them down to see to their mates, only to be called back moments later by crying. Other women were sitting in groups together, gossiping it seemed to Teno, on the day’s events, or on children’s, recipes, medicines and a whole world of other things. Some sat secluded with their older children, the children always wanting to go off away from camp, but the protective mothers never wanting to let them out of their sight. The rest of the women were working tirelessly at the fire, preparing food while running back to make-shift tents to see to babies or collect tools, or to see to their mates' needs.
The men engaged in completely different abilities, and one's that Teno could more relate with. He saw the usual group of men surrounding Kayal, passing around wooden mugs of his mysterious mead. Extremely good if you want to get drunk quickly, but bad in the morning because of the terrible infamous headaches, but that would never stop anyone from drinking. Most who were drinking from his mysterious recipe became rude in their drunken stupor, insulting passers-bys, insulting some of the gods (which they were punished for in the morning), some teasing children pathetic and some even demanding that their busy mates would relieve their needs, that they would have sex with them, whilst drunk. the women complied, fearful of their strong males whilst drunk but never received pleasure when forced to under such conditions, especially if they had children or if they had left their only food unattended, burning on the fire. Other men were chiselling away at bone, making arrows and spear heads, teaching the adolescent their priceless skill, while others began working on the wood in the area, taking samples, or working at the wood for a longbow, making it springy for future use in the hunt. Some were making offerings to various gods, some praying the mother earth, some praying for relief for sick relatives and some simply praying for a plentiful hunt.
These were the normal activities of the camp, not much varying from when they were at home. As Teno watched, mostly keeping his eyes on the very rude drunken men, they began to rise from the rocky group, and walk sweepingly towards him. it seemed they had noticed his penetrating stare and had probably come to taunt him. it was strange also, thought Teno, as he saw the men walk slowly towards him, that the women had not returned with the grasses the shaman requested. How long could it take?
"what are you looking at?" demanded a swaying Kayal, as he began to slump to the floor beside Teno.
"I was just wondering, Kayal, whether you have the antidote to this poison ready for the guys in the morning?" came the reply
"What has that... got to do with you..?"
"Well, Kayal, you know that if you don't have antidote, you will punished by Sohkam tomorrow night, after your headaches have finally subsided" said Teno
"The dream catcher wi-" began Kayal, but Teno cut him off.
"Our shaman is strong, yes, but even he cannot defend you against those dreams. Sohkam has ways of getting through even the biggest nets"
Another man who had sat down began to drink, then talk, "Do you think we care, o, almighty leader, if we have a feeble headache tomorrow and an itty bitty nightmare? We live for today, and to have fun at the party!"
"This is no party," said Teno, still calmly as he took the mug from Jun's hand and threw it towards the fire, "this is a trek across the continent for the big hunt. I shall tell you just once, Kayal, that if I see people drinking that poison in anymore of the voyage, I will banish you from the village, and from the trek."
Teno rose from the floor before they could reply, and walked away from their stench of alcohol.
Teno's Oddysee (images included)
