[b]úsińgroruvaH firogón űsä?űrörürü ússrá; The Month 16 of the 400th Firog

arsurón bära̋kH: 127 people among 14 tribes
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The arsur (coast) was a beatiful sight from the decks of ärgős, the mobile house boats that were more precious than the blood that flowed beneath the skin of every Arsurón. 

Bisre tugged at the taut, marrionet strings of her wooden toy as it danced across the surface of water, waves and drops flicking from the puppet's feet as she dragged the doll as if it was treading the water's surface. The girl, not much older than 2 úsrog giggled to herself as her father and his associates talked buisness nearby. Ánam wished his daughter might listen as well, even if she did not realize the importance at this age. 

"Bańa!" he boomed to adress his fellow cheifs, vital allies in this pressing time. "The sea calls for us to move north towards the yijen re̋Hrëh!" refering to the river at the northern most portion of the Arsur. This was a traditional favorite for raids, as the fertile floodplains drew in many weaker, yet still hardy races from the desert that were perfect for enslavement. However, this river had never been properly settled on, the traditional view being that its shallow waters would not allow for anything bigger than a raid canoe. Ánam, however, saw this risky plan as vital to his tribe's domination of the Arsur and beyond. 

"The yijen re̋Hrëh is a source of not only income, but expendable warriors for our enemies! If we can set up a bägős camp in the river we ma-" 

Ándótt, the leader of the Ori tribe slamed the end of his spear into the floor of the boat. "It is not possible Ánam! You cannot get one ärgős in those waters without sinking, let alone an entire bägős camp."

Ánam's mask hid the way his face twisted in disgust as he began to speak again. "We have no choice, Ándott! Our enemies get stronger every day! They pluck more slaves to tire us before their warriors massacre our own! They must be kept from that river, we must claim it as our own!" 

"You are willing to risk the lives of our people to try and form a camp on that river!"

"No, my own tribe will go, we will move onto the yijen re̋Hrëh!" Ánam spoke. "We will take control of its waters and make those lands ours"

"Or die and leave our alliance in pieces" the Kisi tribe chief, Ángań replied. 

"Then it will be as if I had never gone at all" Ánam replied.

The next day, Ánam and his tribesmen began sailing north towards the mouth of the yijen re̋Hrëh. Bisre looked over at the coast as they passed it, waiting to see when they came to land she had not yet seen. 

*firog - basic unit of historical time, equivalent to 5 years. The Arsurón belive their species was created 400 úsrog, or 2000 years, ago. Úsrog is the plural