Cervia's Log - 31 Achiel, 1 AoC

Any weapon is an arsenal in the proper hands

T

he meteors are still falling. Never more than one per day. But on most days, they fall. At nearly the same time of afternoon. At roughly the same target location far off in the sea to the east. From roughly the same location in the sky and following the same trajectory to the planet’s surface. They’re nearly impossible to miss, scorching a brilliant path through the sky as they scream toward the horizon.
I know there are conditions, in some star systems, where the interplay of tidal forces between two planets can cause an asteroid belt to routinely lose some of its satellites to one of the planets. But the odd uniformity of the meteors I’ve seen streaking down from the heavens makes me wonder if, in fact, these are not meteors at all.
As I continue to travel the coast, I’ve begun taking an hour or two each day to explore ever-so-slightly into the forests. I don’t go far – always keeping the ocean close enough that I can still hear the breaking waves or see them from my position in the foliage. I was hoping to possibly find more signs of civilization. Indeed, on several occasions, I’ve been excited to spot a trail – a trail that could lead to villages, trading outposts, docks, farms… anything. But upon further inspection, every trail I’ve found has clearly been worn down by animals – not people.
But my forest jaunts have not been entirely for naught. With a keen eye and some primitive woodworking, I now have a spear. By “spear”, what I really mean is “a pointy, fallen branch” that conveniently came equipped with a modestly sharp tip. It’s not entirely straight, but straight enough. I have no knife by which to further sharpen it, but I was able to strengthen the point by rubbing it vigorously with some bleached bones that I found laying about the forest floor. It wouldn’t be terribly effective in combat, but it would easily puncture soft flesh. And the shaft is pleasingly sturdy, making it a useful walking stick during times when I’m not trying to stab something with it.
I’m quite excited to try my new weapon on some of the marine life that I’ve seen skittering about in the shallow tidal pools. You don’t have to worry about the freshness of your catch when you’ve just impaled it and lifted it from the water.

Type

Journal, Personal

Location

Islemanoton

Authors

• Cervia Polonosa