Hello friends. I've recently started playing this game again, after putting it down for a few years. I think I've become enraptured with the folklore and even the developers themselves I've developed a keen interest in. There is something very fascinating about the eccentricity of them, as well as the lifestyle of those you control within the game.
Anyway, I will preface this story by saying I am not a writer, nor an artist of the traditional variety at least. You'll have to forgive me as I intend to supplement this story with some (crude) traditional drawings and proverbial speech of my own.
Lika is an escaped slave, most of you know of course this means they have very little to begin with. My interpretation is that they were forced to build for their captors, thus their high skills in that region.
Hungry and alone, far into the west he went with only a stone knife to get him by.
And they will be starting far in the east, near the Njerpeziläis.
The Story:Many years ago, a great event sparked great divide. The
Kaumolaiset engaged in a skirmish with the
Njerpeziläis and it lit off an unending cultural war. The
Reemiläinen were therefore targeted for reasons of being similar enough to their
Kaumolaiset neighbors. It's disputed among elders why the reasons for this hatred is on-going, but the general consensus is that revenge outlives the trees and therefore, we will never see an end even when we cannot remember the beginning.
Lika's parents are but a distant memory, and his original name is long forgotten. Only in his dreams does he experience his heritage, as the spirits whisper to him throughout the nights he is most hungry. He can now speak two languages and understands his enemy is not so different from himself. Grueling winters of building and working against his will has hardened his physical body, but more so his spirit. Those in red have given Lika a new thought on revenge and future prosperity, and that in the end, everyone is reclaimed by nature.
One early midwinter Lika was involved in maintaining an outward camp, watched over by but one lowly
Njerpeziläis warrior. Seeing his opportunity to escape, he pushed the man over and ran as fast as he could, the sound of swearing and swaying chainmail behind him almost as loud as his heartbeats. With arrows flying past him and the spirits of his ancestors pushing him forward, he managed to lose his captor in the trees and escaped without harm.
The gentle thicket swayed around him quietly, the distant noise of curse and footsteps long subsided. Freedom. It was at this moment, Lika knew what he must do. Head west, to the
Driikiläiset. The traders. He remembers them as the most difficult for his captors to attack.
Hungry and alone he will go, for many days.
To be continued...