WreckTall |
Omens
Livestock provide only stillbirth. The water in the streams and ponds is no longer sweet. The wild game have scattered. The air is as still as death. All bad omens.
Portents
The moons become as blood. The insects no longer sing at night. A star flares in the night sky. Now brighter than anything in the night sky, and second only to the sun in the morn. The heavens are of fate and prophecy. What unalterable path does this light illuminate?
Dreams.
You as chief are plagued by dreams. Emotions hardly contained. The urge to travel undeniable. The guiding star beckons you. Faces of your ancestors scream for attention. No peaceful rest can be had.
What do you do? Follow the star? Alone? With an army? with your village? Is this a prophesy of your destiny or portents of your oblivion?
You can start with any backstory you want. You may know the other tribes well to not at all. Understand their customs, or barely speak the same language. Start near one another, or never see a soul. I'll leave that to you.