Ancestor People of Manigal Concept Test

The Ancestor Peoples Beneath the waves, Manigal’s true scope becomes ev- ident. A massive seamount, its craggy slopes descend gently into the dark; the visible island was the peak of a much larger landmass until ancient catastrophe sent it crashing down. Profuse seagrass meadows and reef gardens grow across what were once verdant foothills. Among the brilliant coral seascapes hide patches of filmy, flickering light. An old magic originally meant to ward off floods, tidal waves, and driving rain, these gossamer shields mark entrances to the ancestor peo- ples’ settlements. They’re the original inhabitants of Manigal and the builders of Tomil Teb, descendants of those few who were able to seal themselves away when catastrophe struck. The ancestor people stand taller than the Manigalese, though they share the same dark complexion and curly hair. They wear colorful woven lavalavas featuring stripes and geometric patterns, and jewelry made from coral and shell. They can hold their breath for hours, but still must breathe. A scavenger folk, they comb both the ruins of settlements destroyed when old Manigal sank, and seafloor ruins from lost benthic civilization. They trade scavenged treasures to other undersea peo- ples for rare coral from the voracious Reefeater League, jewels of nacre from the sessile spongefolk beneath the Utterstorm Gyre, and the like. They hand relics and jewels alike over to Tomil Teb’s diving-apostles in ex- change for surface goods — weapons, tools, and food- stuffs and spices unavailable beneath the sea. They worship gods of coral and ocean brine to whom they build shrines on the reefs, guiding the coral into magnificent living temples. Many leave offerings of smaller fish for the spirits to ensure a bountiful catch of milkfish and blue trevally, or to gain their blessing against attacks from sharks and other predators. They call their benthic city Karoun Kan-Neng. Hidden in the coral-crusted slopes, its tunnels wind deep into the seamount. Here, the ancestor people conceal labo- ratories and workshops where scavenger-captains can bring their finds to clean and tinker with, along with sleeping areas, kitchens, and other amenities. The same magic that seals their pocket homes generates a thin at- mosphere for the ancestor people within, but the air- flow is weak and sometimes unreliable. This restricts their ability to cook food to a handful of scavenged smokeless First Age cooking devices. The waters around Karoun Kan-Neng are clear and bright. There, the ancestor people have built elaborate coral gardens in which they take their leisure, sunning themselves or hunting jewel-bright fish with nets and spears. Fresh fish is often served raw, cubed and tossed with oil and sea salt. Other popular dishes include milk- fish steamed in taro leaves, mixed seafood ceviche, yam and banana salad, and thick sweet poi. They sleep and cook within their city, but otherwise spend their time in the water, communicating in a sophisticated sign language. The grandest of these gardens is the Reef of Heaven, where the ruling Ponolei dynasty holds court among a profusion of anemones and sea lilies. Unlike the Manigalese, the ancestor people are governed by an aristocracy, with the Ponolei set above a handful of backbiting noble broods. Most ancestor people are effec- tively indentured servants, beholden to one of the noble families, performing menial labor to earn their place in the city, or in the handful of smaller settlements shel- tered by similar magic. Most such labor takes the form of scavenging; there are still troves of relics to be found among old Manigal’s ruins and beyond. Social mobility follows two avenues. Successful and wily scavengers can marry into a noble family to be- come scavenger-captains, or parents may secure their children’s futures by pledging them to the Surgeons’ Guild. The Surgeons are doctors and thaumaturges who maintain and oversee the creche-atolls where newborn ancestor people are reared. Children who fail out of the Surgeons’ rigorous practical examinations are shamed and returned to their families.