The Exodus of Dust

The Exodus of Dust was one of the most major events in early Libran history, effecting the whole of Southeastern Libra. It occured about 70 years after the birth of Man at Gaea's Womb. When the Elven Lords rode into the primitive and starving cities of early man on carriages made of glittering gems and gold, they painted themselves as the saviors of Man, come to teach the primitive natives of the Arahah Basin farming and the benifits of civilized living. Their aloof and arrogent mannerism angered the cheifs that ruled the human cities, but in general, the population welcomed their new benevolent rulers. Only a very few saw the coming of the Elves not as the advent of a new, richer way of life, but rather as the annexation of their people, and the destruction of their unique culture. These groups were run out of their villages, in the fear that they might anger their Elven saviors, or make humanity appear ungrateful. Many of these people formed small groups, and began to move south, beyond the lighty wooded clearings of the Arahah Basin, and into a more densly forested southern region called Mistgrove by many. Unfortunantly, Mistgrove at that time was hardly an easy place to live. One by one, the smaller groups came together for protection, until there was a large moving town established in the middle of the wood. They set up a city called Xxhazu on the western edge of Mistgrove, where they tried to eke out a living for the next 30 years, where many other humans from the north joined them, before abandoning it, thanks to the nonstop attacks of a race that could have been goblinoid or Demonic in origin. The Exodus Folk, as they were now being called, were governed by a council of chiefs, who decided at that point to keep moving south, past the Mistgrove, and into the rumored fertile plains beyond. As it turned out, the journey through the woods was much more uneventful than was anticipated, and the group passed easily to the other side. Unfortunantly, the Exodus Folk had very little time to rest before they were contacted by a race called the Plainsdwellers, probably early halflings, who told them that the plains were not in fact as rich as the rumors had said, and that the plains barely had enough resources to support its current inhabitents. The Exodus leaders met with the Plainsfolk chiefs, who agreed to guide the Exodus Folk through their territory and give them supplies, on the condition that they leave immidiately. Upon exiting the fertile Golden Plains, the Exodus found itself faced with its greatest challenge yet- The Great Southern Desert. They set up camp near the edge of the Desert, and bartered for water with the local halfling town. It seemed that they were ready for the greatest leg of their journey, until they were attacked by a reptillian race called the Aasathi, who were native to desert. The Aasathi had been raiding halfling border towns for decades, picking clean the bones of the already poor race. While the raiding party was easily driven back by the warriors of the halfling village and the Exodus Group, word spread of a large caravan moving practicaly unprotected through the desert. By the time that the group reached the edge of the desert, an Aasathi horde had assembled to meet them. The human warriors fought, but they died by the droves when put up against the professional warriors of the Aasathi. Many civilians died trying to flee from the magically hardened weapons of the lizardmen. When the group reassembled, they were split as to their course of action. While the majority wanted to press on and find greener pastures as previous generations had attempted, many of the humans, mainly the families of the slain, wanted to stay behind, and complete the 7 day mourning process that was customary among humans at that time. They split up, and those who remained behind began to dress their dead. But no sooner wasthe rest of the group over the horizon before the Aasathi attacked again, and in force. The mourners were slaughtered. Those who survived decided to go no further. They had paid the price of pressing on, and it was too dear. They migrated farther north, back into Plainsfolk territory. There they founded the town of Sumara, and built new lives for themselves. Meanwhile, the rest of the group was lost, and running out of water quickly. They had wandered into an area of the desert called The Heath, where not even the hardy Aasathi attempted to make camp. Many of them died of thrist, but the council told them to press on. They lied, claiming that they knew that the end of the desert was just over the horizon, and that there was a land of orchards and green pastures that was just waiting for them on the other side. The people pressed on, but as the Aasathi raids grew more and more common, and more more of their warriors began to fall into the sand and never get up again, the people began to wander. Did the desert ever end? Day after day, nothing but sand, no streams, no trees, just dunes, and Aasathi war parties. Watching the sun come up in the morning, being forced to endure the grueling heat and lack of water, and then watching the sun go down again, knowing that they would only have to face it again in the morning, many of the party went insane, and wandered off into the desert, and were never seen again. At long last, after many months of wandering, they reached a source of water- the Red River. Asking the Scarabis who lived in the river valley their location, they learned that they were only halfway through the desert. Knowing that their leader had lied to them, they lynched them, and hung them off the cliffs of the river. They settled in the river valley, and took their greatest priest as king. One day, they would be called the Ubantu, and they would turn back even the legions of the mighty Nalbadeisan Empire. They were, and are, the first of the Free Humans. Their ancestor's wish had been, after much hardship, granted.

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