The low rumble and the faint, pulsing glow from the direction of the scarred earth depression left a deep impression on the village. It was a stark, undeniable reminder that the world they inhabited held forces far beyond their understanding and control. The immediate fear of the creature attack had been a visceral, tangible threat they could fight with spears and walls. This was different – a subtle, unsettling demonstration of power emanating from the earth itself.
The atmosphere in the village remained tense for days. Sleep was lighter, eyes were more watchful. The children, usually boisterous, played closer to the huts, their games quieter. The elders spoke in hushed tones, interpreting the event through the lens of their myths about the Old Ones and their stirring power. More offerings were left near the dark metal panel by the entrance, now seen not just as a guardian, but as a potential conduit or symbol connected to these ancient forces.
Elias felt the unease of the villagers, but his own reaction was a complex mix of apprehension and intense intellectual curiosity. The rumbling and glow fit the pattern of geological activity, but the connection to the scarred depression and the presence of the artifact suggested something more. He spent time near the metal panel, not just observing it, but trying to sense anything from it, any vibration or resonance that might correspond with the earth's movements. It remained stubbornly inert, cool and silent beneath his touch.
Despite the unsettling event, the practicalities of village life demanded attention. The defenses were complete, a source of considerable reassurance, but they required maintenance. Patrols were organized, with hunters keeping a watchful eye on the forest perimeter, particularly in the direction of the scarred earth. The irrigated fields needed tending, the plants requiring consistent care to ensure another successful harvest.
Borin continued his tireless work with the hard wood and the creature's hide plates. The gifted wooden knife remained his benchmark, a constant reminder of the quality he aspired to. He had managed to create several more hard wood tools – axes that made felling trees significantly faster, and sharper knives that improved efficiency in everything from preparing food to crafting. He was also making progress on incorporating the hide plates into armor, creating crude but effective breastplates and arm guards by lashing the plates onto sturdy leather and wood bases. These were heavy and cumbersome, limiting movement, but their resistance to damage was undeniable.
The trade relationship with Zarthus's tribe continued to grow. They arrived periodically, bringing more hard wood, unique plant products from the plains, and news from their travels. These exchanges were becoming smoother, the language barrier less daunting as Elias's fluency in both tongues increased and as both groups learned more of each other's words and customs. Zarthus's people were particularly interested in the village's preserved grains and smoked meats, valuable resources for a nomadic group. They also showed increasing interest in the village's woven textiles, admiring the intricate patterns and durable weaves.
During one of Zarthus's visits, Elias, feeling a surge of curiosity, decided to ask about the scarred earth depression. He chose a moment when they were discussing strange places in the world. "Near here," Elias said, gesturing towards the direction of the scar. "Ground… hurt." He made a gesture of striking the earth. "Sometimes… move. Glow." He mimed the rumbling and the pulsing light. "You… know this?" he asked Zarthus. "See before?"
Zarthus listened intently, his expression serious. He exchanged a look with his companions. He spoke in his own language for a moment, then turned back to Elias and Kaelen. Through a combination of words and gestures, he conveyed that his tribe had indeed heard stories of such places, places where the earth was restless and sometimes glowed. They called them 'Spirit Wounds,' places where the power of the ancient spirits, not necessarily the Old Ones as the villagers understood them, was close to the surface. They were considered dangerous, unpredictable places, best left undisturbed. Zarthus indicated that his tribe avoided such areas in their travels.
He did not offer a scientific explanation, but his description of 'Spirit Wounds' and restless earth resonated with the villagers' own interpretations. It seemed that this phenomenon, while terrifying, was not unique to their immediate area. Other people in this world knew of such places, and they, too, viewed them with caution.
The conversation shifted to other topics, but Elias's mind held onto the exchange. 'Spirit Wounds.' It was another piece of the puzzle of this world's nature. It suggested that the strange activity near the scarred earth was not an isolated event, but a manifestation of a broader, perhaps geological or magical, phenomenon present in other parts of the world.
As the Sun-Eye began its descent, casting long shadows across the clearing, the sounds of the village settling down for the night filled the air. The defenses stood strong, the fire crackled warmly, and the scent of cooked food mingled with the lingering aroma of the visitors. The world outside their palisade walls remained vast and full of unknowns – other tribes, strange creatures, and now, places where the earth itself seemed to stir with ancient power. The dark metal panel by the entrance gleamed faintly in the fading light, a silent, enigmatic link to those mysteries. The village was safe for the night, its people gathered together, their lives a blend of hard work, cautious progress, and the ever-present awareness of the unsettling vibrations of the world around them.