Here is how it works: I'm roleplaying as if Dawali has gone around to let everyone know what's going to happen the night before, so that everyone are prepared and know what to do. They gather around the circular ceremonial stone ground by the great ceremonial fire, in the north part of the village, right by the Town Hall. All members have been asked to bring one white item (white, or painted white for the occasion) for sacrifice. This item can be anything from a weapon or a tool to a rock, but they must carry some amount of emotional value for the owner. Roleplay as if your character has already arrived, please, unless you intend for them to be late!


We follow post order, and skip the person who is due should they take longer than 4 days to respond when it's their turn.

He was never sure whether he was awkward or comfortable when he appeared for his tribe in his ceremonial clothing, but he would not forsake tradition for his own selfish feelings. The leather "jacket" had once been sown by his mate, all that time ago when they had first settled in their first house. His own fingers had mended it since, and now it was adorned with feathers here, some beads there. It made him too warm to wear it in summer. The great fire's flames rose high in the air next to him, spilling an orange light on everything and set his russet pelt aflame with color, and he thanked the spirits that his pelt was not as thick as that of most wolves. That very same pelt would disappoint him in winter, but at least he was not dying from heat just yet. Despite his thoughts, he appeared rather calm on the outside, waiting patiently in his usual spot, for the members of his tribe to arrive. Behind him lay a little bundle, and a large one, the latter containing foods and whatnot for the feast that was ahead. His smoking pipe hung in his belt, for once, as did the little bone flute he sometimes played, and drums were accessible to anyone. It seemed as if even the skies were on his side, for the late day might very soon turn into a magnificent evening, with not a cloud to see anywhere. Everything was set for a jolly celebration, but first came the serious part, which Dawali played with ease from years of practice. The Chief coughed to get their attention as soon as it seemed that most had arrived. "Welcome, everyone. For some of you, this is the first time you have ever come to one of our ceremonies; an extra welcome to you!" He paused, and his eyes traveled across the faces of the newest members, some so fresh that he doubted that they had met very many of the others before. "We should thank the world for the gifts that she has given us during these peaceful summer months. We will extinguish our precious fire and re-light it, just as everything dies and is born again every season." He turned quite seriously and started to shuffle sand onto the great fire, its flames shaking with every fist of sand he threw on it. He felt no need to tell the members to participate, as he assumed that most of the members that had been there awhile would do so automatically, easily showing the newcomers how it was done. His flint and tinder, and a pile of very fine, dry twigs, waited on the ground in a safe distance from the big flames. Soon, they would be part of the new Great Fire, but first, the flames had to die out.

Great! Continue to post, and anyone who wasn't part of it the first round can still jump in!

We follow post order, and skip the person who is due should they take longer than 4 days to respond when it's their turn.

They said nothing, but repeated his actions as they slowly robbed the Great Fire of air, sand covering the embers underneath and causing them to die. He stopped when he saw that they were all nearly dead, but still warm, and easy to rekindle from the embers he had brought before. These embers were lit ceremoniously and for this purpose, carried in a box he had been lucky to have brought with him here. He would never have been able to build it himself, that much was for certain. Despite its strange looks and scorched insides, all those holes and chambers somehow kept the embers alive for a decent amount of time, and now he waited until everyone stepped away before he pushed some of the large logs away and poured the embers into the center, throwing carefully dried pieces of bark and twigs on top to encourage fire. In not long, flames were roaring again, but he continued to feed it twigs - larger and larger ones as the flames persisted - as he spoke, for there was still one task left before the formalities were over. Logs on the inside soon caught fire again, already warm from before. "Now, as the fire is again alive, we will all offer something to it, in the hopes that the powers of our world will make our autumn as splendid as our summer has been." He moved back to where the different bundles lay, and quickly found the two small ones he was looking for. As an example to everyone else, he opened the smallest one, and showed them its contents before they were tossed into the fire. The little sea-shell did not burn so much as... roast, perhaps, and was soon a totally different color than the purest white it had been. Chitsa, his sister, had once collected them, and he had found it along the shore when traveling some moons ago, keeping it as a memory of her and the rest of his family in the Great Tribe. Wordlessly he opened the second package and started to toss little handfuls of the dried herb onto the flames. The tobacco gave off a pleasant smell as it burned, and a completely different air rose from the fire, now. Somehow thicker, it seemed to the Chief that it was laden with the greater powers of their world.

Here is how it works: I'm roleplaying as if Dawali has gone around to let everyone know what's going to happen the night before, so that everyone are prepared and know what to do. They gather around the circular ceremonial stone ground by the great ceremonial fire, in the north part of the village, right by the Town Hall. All members have been asked to bring one white item (white, or painted white for the occasion) for sacrifice. This item can be anything from a weapon or a tool to a rock, but they must carry some amount of emotional value for the owner. Roleplay as if your character has already arrived, please, unless you intend for them to be late!


We follow post order, and skip the person who is due should they take longer than 4 days to respond when it's their turn.

Each offered their little packets to the fire, and they stood and watched them burn for a while in silence, with the air filling with the scent of burning tobacco, sending trails of slightly denser smoke to the sky. His own nose drank the scent in eagerly. He did smoke a pipe so and so often, but it smelled wholly different when mixed with the earthy scents of the Great Fire — closer to home and closer to his family. It was in moments like these that his mind flew to them, as if the roar of the flames in front of him somehow enabled his thoughts to reach them, wherever they were. He was the only one, now, that had not gone there, and sometimes he doubted his place in the tribe completely. After all, who was he, leading a tribe, a family, when his own family had chosen to be elsewhere? But as all moments, this one was short and passed by as quickly as any, and then it was time for more festive activities than to ponder on one's past and future. Turning abruptly, he felt a large smile split his face into two as he slapped his hands together forcefully. "Right! Food and music and dance for everyone!" Still smiling, he stepped to the side and threw his arm out in a broad movement, presenting the foods in a pile behind him. A variety of fresh and dried fish and meats, berries, roots and fruits, and some nut bread for those that wanted to sink their teeth into something wholly different. Some drums and flutes lay there, and another packet of tobacco for those that wanted to smoke. He moved quickly into the others and settled just on the edge of the paved ceremonial ground, pulling up his flute and starting a merry tune. He no longer remembered its name, but it was simple and yet urged the body to dance. The Chief played sitting down, but even still his body bounced from side to side with the rhythms of the melody, his moment of doubt already forgotten.