Lore!

The Evolutionary Experiment on The Volcanic Isles

Years ago, a groundbreaking scientific experiment was initiated to study the long-term effects of isolation on evolution. The objective was to observe how a population of creatures evolves in an environment with very minimal human intervention over an extended period. For this ambitious study, the focus was placed on feral cats, a species known for its adaptability and abundance.

Initial Population and Relocation

Originally, scientists selected a small group of these cats to serve as the initial population for the experiment, six to be exact. They carefully transported these cats to a remote island known as The Volcanic Isles, a location chosen for its isolation and diverse environments. The island's unique volcanic terrain, including forested and rocky areas, provided an ideal setting for observing evolutionary changes.

Ongoing Observation and Maintenance

Once the cats were established on the island, scientists monitored their adaptation to the new environment. After confirming that the feral cats could thrive and sustain themselves, a protocol was established to introduce new cats periodically. This process was designed to maintain a diverse gene pool and observe how these new individuals would integrate and influence the population.

Periodic Genetic Sampling

To track and analyze the evolutionary changes within the population, scientists periodically captured cats from the island for genetic analysis. These samples provided crucial data on the genetic makeup and evolutionary trends occurring in the isolated population. These ferals are likely to never return to the islands.

Splice Of History!

The sky above The Volcanic Isles was overcast, with thick clouds gathering as the wind howled through the trees. Inside at the heart of the volcano, the flames of the Everburn danced in the stone chamber, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts of the past.

Rising Ember, a young apprentice chosen to be a Shaman during her Breaking of Stones Ceremony, entered the cavern with a mixture of awe and hesitation. She had always respected Ashwatcher's memory, the elder Shaman...the first Shaman ever, whose wisdom was unmatched, but tonight she had come with a purpose. She wanted...no she needed to understand the history that shaped their world, the events that led to the division of their people. Who was she to make such decisions and lead such large groups if she never knew the truth to the tales she heard as a little?

Ashwatcher sat calmly by the fire, his vibrant fur was now streaked with silver, and his eyes, shined with the knowledge of the many moons before him. He looked up as Rising Ember approached, his gaze softening. "Come, my Rising" Ashwatcher invited, his voice like the crackling of the flames. "What brings you here to me on such a night?"

Rising Ember settled down beside the elder, the warmth of the fire seeping blissfully into her fur. "Ashwatcher, I want to know about our past. About the day you and the others first arrived on the island, and the events that led to The Clash of Origins. I feel like understanding this will help me on my own path as a Shaman."

Ashwatcher’s eyes grew distant as he gazed into the fire, the flames reflecting the memories that surfaced though a lazy smile graced his maw. "You seek the truth, unlike many of your kin...and yet still so young" He murmured, pausing before continuing. "It was many many moons ago, long before the naming of either tribe. The day we arrived on this island, it was as if Calmwater was weeping for our future. The rain fell relentlessly, cold and harsh, soaking us to the bone as we were released onto the shore by these strange creatures far bigger than ourselves." His voice was wistful, taken back to the day he may never forget...not even in death, was he released from the responsibility.

"We were six, strangers to this place and to each other. Cloud, Acorn, Pebble, Moon, Fox and I. The others…they never saw what I did that day and i'm sure they thought I was simply crazy. As we stumbled through the storm trying to seek shelter, I felt her warmth in my bones. It was Everflame who spoke to me, her voice carried on the wind like the softest of melodies, guiding us to the safety of the tunnels within the giant mountains"

"The others could not see her, nor feel the heat she brought but they followed my lead, trusting in what they could not understand. We huddled together in the darkness, listening to the storm rage outside, and it was there that I first began to comprehend the power of this land, and the role I was meant to play."

Rising Ember’s eyes widened, trying to imagine what it must have been like to be the only one to witness such a thing. Would she have followed it like Ashwatcher had? "But what happened after that, Ashwatcher? How did things go so wrong?"

Ashwatcher sighed, the weight of history heavy in his voice. "For quite some time, we lived in an uneasy harmony. We learned from the land, from each other, and from the deities who guided me on occasion. However, as more cats appeared from the strange creatures, the differences among us grew too large to ignore. The newcomers did not share our experiences or the beliefs we began to settle on. They questioned my visions, and many of them began to doubt the existence of the deities altogether."

"Fox, a fierce and cunning cat, began to lead those who rejected the old ways. He argued that we should rely on our strength and wits, not on unseen forces. The tension between us grew until it could no longer be contained. During a gathering at the Everburn, words of disapproval turned to snarls, and the unity we had once known was shattered."

"The Clash of Origins began as a struggle for leadership, but it quickly became something far deeper - a battle of beliefs, of who we were and who we thought we wanted to become. Those who remained loyal to the deities, who believed in the guidance I had received from them, had stayed with me and the others around the Everburn. Fox's followers broke away, claiming their own territory and their own path."

"But don't both tribes believe in the deities today?" She couldn't help but interject...such a division didn't make sense.

Ashwatcher looked at Rising Ember, his gaze thoughtful as he genuinely considered the question. The crackling flames of the Everburn cast flickering shadows across his weathered face. "Yes, both tribes do indeed believe in the deities today," he admitted, though his voice carried an unusual hint of sadness "But belief in the deities is not always enough to bridge the divides that form between us. The divisions that came between us were not just about faith - they were about how we interpret that faith, how we live it, and how we apply it to our interactions with others."

He paused, taking a deep breath as the fire's warmth seemed to offer him some solace in his recounting. "The tribes' beliefs in the deities are not in question, but the way we have chosen to honor them and the paths we have taken have led to different practices and traditions. Those differences have created a rift between us, and it is in that rift in which war occurs"

"The spirit of Everflame, for instance, is revered by both tribes, but the way her guidance is shown differs between us all. Her light shines on us all differently, like flames casting shadows along its viewers."

"The same goes for Everflames sisters, Proudroot and Calmwater. Each tribe views them in their own ways, reflecting their experiences with them. Over time, these differences have grown more pronounced, and though we still honor the same deities, our practices and beliefs have changed significantly as each moon passes" Ashwatcher looked at Rising Ember with a gentle, yet firm gaze. "The challenge we face is not simply about recognizing our shared beliefs but finding ways to honor them in a manner that respects those shown differences. It is a complex dance of unity and clear division, and it is the role of the Shamans to navigate these waters for them, striving for balance and understanding in all that we do. To remember that neither way is inherently right or wrong."

His gaze lazily returned to the Everburn as he continued "The war that followed was brutal and unforgiving, leaving scars that have never fully healed." Ashwatcher paused, the flames reflecting the sorrow in his eyes. "It was a time of great loss, but also of great change. The island was divided, and though the fighting eventually ceased, the divisions remains to this day. It is a reminder of the choices we made, and the prices we paid for them."

Rising Ember nodded slowly, her mind taking in the true reality of Ashwatcher’s words. "Thank you, Ashwatcher. I understand now why it’s so important that the Shamans must remain neutral. It’s not just about the deities - it’s about ensuring that the mistakes of the past are not repeated." Ashwatcher smiled faintly at her, "You have a wise heart, my Rising."

As the storm outside began to ease, Rising Ember remained by the fire despite Ashwatchers absence, feeling the weight of history settle upon her. She knew that her journey as a Shaman was just beginning, but with Ashwatcher’s teachings and the knowledge of their shared past, she felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Current Prophecy

At 126 moons, Scorched Solstice stands as the sole remaining shaman of the island, a figure both revered and feared by the tribes. His age and experience speak of his wisdom, but his fractured connection to the gods and his embittered soul cast a shadow over his legacy. Cats speak in hushed tones about him, some viewing him as a last, fragile tether between their world and the spiritual realm, while others wonder if he is close to letting everything crumble when he passes.

His decision to remain a shaman after the death of Ember's Embrace was fueled by a sense of duty more than devotion. Yet now, as the seasons stretch behind him like fading memories, the tribe's sense that his will to continue is thinning. Whispers float through the Tribe of Shadowed Groves, and the Tribe of Whispering Waves, of what will happen when he is no longer. The island’s very connection to the gods seems precariously tied to his life, and many fear that when he dies, the main spiritual link the shamans have maintained for generations will die with him.

Many of the tribe cats fear what will happen if Scorched Solstice decides to turn his back on them. or worse, if he simply lets go and lets the island's connection to the gods fade into oblivion with his death. Some have tried to approach him, to seek guidance or offer help, but the sharp edge of his words and the weight of his presence often send them away, unsettled.

Even so, there are a few who dare to hope that someone might reignite the flame within him, to remind him of the importance of his role not just for the tribes, but for the legacy of the island itself. Without him, there may be no more shamans to guide the cats, no one to keep the balance between themselves and their deities.

For his part, Scorched Solstice is well aware of this fear, and in his darkest moments, he contemplates whether it would even matter. He no longer holds the gods in reverence, no longer sees them as protectors or guides. His bitterness has grown into a quiet, dangerous apathy. He watches the tribes from afar, knowing that many depend on him, yet feeling the pull of isolation. Part of him is tempted to leave the tribes to their fate, to let the flame of the shamans flicker out with him. After all, the gods betrayed him long ago, what loyalty did he owe to them to fix it?

Despite this, there are still moments when he remembers the cat he used to be, the shaman who once believed in the beauty of life, the spiritual world, and the tribe’s future. These moments come in fleeting bursts. When he sees kits playing near the caverns, when he catches a glimpse of a sunrise that reminds him of Ember's Embrace's fiery spirit, or when he performs his sacred duties during Everburn.

Scorched Solstice remains the last thread holding the island’s faith together, but as the moons pass and his time draws closer to an end, everyone's bound to ask...will he let the fire burn out, or will he carry it forward one last time?



The Deities Have Spoken...
"Three born of the waves, beneath moon’s soft gleam,
A soldier’s might, a prophet’s dream,
And a king’s heart where hope still beams.
When shadows rise from the groves so deep,
The soldier will strike, the prophet will see,
The king will guide so the tribes may be free.
Only together, can they break the night,
And save the waves from endless blight."