From the article archive
World A Week: Clans of the Canis
I fell through worlds, and came to rest under a spreading oak giant in what should be a Pre-Columbian forrest if I am to judge by the air's clarity and the mature trees.
Shortly after as I gather my stuff, a dog with an unexpectedly wide head, and a harness of leather with tools strung on it slips around the tree. He's cute, so I reach out reassuringly with hand and telepathy.
"There, there, fellow, I'm okay, you're okay."
"Why do you speak so simply? And what in the name of the Nine Forrest Gods are you?" the thought came back to me with clear power, and ease.
I've seen stranger, but not in such a ordinary and yet delightful package(I like cats as well.)
We became friends of a sort, his pack and I as we travelled back to his village. He admired my hands, and my balance, and I admired his speed and stealth.
Soon enough I saw a set of caves for they had poor vision, and did not hide them that well from sight, but I was told the scent baffles were of legendary treachery. More than one enemy war party had been split up, and been convinced to attack each other in the confusion of a night raid.
The life at first seemed free and easy, but I learned that they had no way to prepare for hard times, and that the young males would soon have to be escorted to an encampment far away from their parents(so as to reduce the hardship of combat between parent and children). This tragedy happens during the sacred Truce Week for the large valley we inhabited(I think it was a variant of the Missisippi Basin).
I am a small bit of an inventor, and as such easily applied certain basic tricks to enhance my ease and protection, and did so for my hosts as well. They were utterly astounded, and a number were highly skeptical.
So, when a visionary among the young, my self-same friend I've mentioned, came to plead my help because his new tribe would be so vulnerable, and he promised to support my efforts, and not mutter that I should be left out for the Dark Crawlers like some others were saying, half-in-jest, well it was hard.
I'm arrogant, but not arrogant enough to obey the Prime Directive when a well-meaning friend begs for his life. So, somewhat uneasily, I went along.
Years past, but I felt like I was shovelling in quicksand at times. They were equivalent to Early Stone Age, I guess. Without hands or any possible TK, which startled me at first despite their other psi powers, they were so limited. Almost destined to be barbarians it seemed at times in the dark of the night. My innovations spread however, and many things happened. I think I pushed them into agriculture, and postal service, and dozens of other things.
I also gave rise to an assasin who walked a thousand miles to tell me of the harms I brought his people. He lectured me as I lay there under his bloody jaw, but I don't feel too guilty. Sad, yes, but worse would have come. I still kind of hope the huge guy got away.
Tadeusz
Shortly after as I gather my stuff, a dog with an unexpectedly wide head, and a harness of leather with tools strung on it slips around the tree. He's cute, so I reach out reassuringly with hand and telepathy.
"There, there, fellow, I'm okay, you're okay."
"Why do you speak so simply? And what in the name of the Nine Forrest Gods are you?" the thought came back to me with clear power, and ease.
I've seen stranger, but not in such a ordinary and yet delightful package(I like cats as well.)
We became friends of a sort, his pack and I as we travelled back to his village. He admired my hands, and my balance, and I admired his speed and stealth.
Soon enough I saw a set of caves for they had poor vision, and did not hide them that well from sight, but I was told the scent baffles were of legendary treachery. More than one enemy war party had been split up, and been convinced to attack each other in the confusion of a night raid.
The life at first seemed free and easy, but I learned that they had no way to prepare for hard times, and that the young males would soon have to be escorted to an encampment far away from their parents(so as to reduce the hardship of combat between parent and children). This tragedy happens during the sacred Truce Week for the large valley we inhabited(I think it was a variant of the Missisippi Basin).
I am a small bit of an inventor, and as such easily applied certain basic tricks to enhance my ease and protection, and did so for my hosts as well. They were utterly astounded, and a number were highly skeptical.
So, when a visionary among the young, my self-same friend I've mentioned, came to plead my help because his new tribe would be so vulnerable, and he promised to support my efforts, and not mutter that I should be left out for the Dark Crawlers like some others were saying, half-in-jest, well it was hard.
I'm arrogant, but not arrogant enough to obey the Prime Directive when a well-meaning friend begs for his life. So, somewhat uneasily, I went along.
Years past, but I felt like I was shovelling in quicksand at times. They were equivalent to Early Stone Age, I guess. Without hands or any possible TK, which startled me at first despite their other psi powers, they were so limited. Almost destined to be barbarians it seemed at times in the dark of the night. My innovations spread however, and many things happened. I think I pushed them into agriculture, and postal service, and dozens of other things.
I also gave rise to an assasin who walked a thousand miles to tell me of the harms I brought his people. He lectured me as I lay there under his bloody jaw, but I don't feel too guilty. Sad, yes, but worse would have come. I still kind of hope the huge guy got away.
Tadeusz
Recovered from the Gaming Outpost database backup. Original wording is preserved; damaged punctuation and presentation markup have been repaired. Historical links without a local match point to the Internet Archive.