Setting:
An island about the size of New Zealand, and with about the same scenery and geographic diversity. It's heavily wooded in most areas, with lakes and swamps a plenty and some jungle to go with. There are plains in the northern part of the island: generally, things are more-densely wooded the further south one travels. This island is surrounded by a impenetrable veil of storms, which cut it off from the rest of the world. Due to this isolation, the species there have evolved differently and technology has evolved at a much slower rate than elsewhere.
The most-evolved creatures here, the "natives", are a species of bipedal furred mammals. The males average around 7'4" and the females around 5'. They align themselves in tribes: these villages generally keep to themselves, though trading amongst tribes is not uncommon. Each tribe takes it symbol from an animal in their geographic location: the Tribe of Frogs lives in a jungle area, and the Tribe of Storks lives by a shallow lake, for instance. These villages generally have a territory about 2 or 3 days-walk in diameter, so a trading voyage is generally a large event taking at least a week to trade with the nearest neighbors, or longer to trade with others. There's little animosity between the tribes, though squabbles over territory or a migrating herd or a wife are not unheard-of and are often bloody.
Casting and Tribe Leadership:
Casting is the method of magic usage unique to this island. A cast is achieved by praying to a Being, supernatural creatures that seem to have interest in the natives.
Not just anyone may use a cast, though. Each Being accepts different prayers, and only from certain people. This then limits the diversity of casts that one native can generally know: in fact, it is so limited that most only know how to pray for one thing.
The method of obtaining a cast is complicated. Each cast requires a specific prayer to a specific Being, so people cannot teach each other casts. Rather, they learn them from the Beings themselves: at birth, the natives share a connection with a Being through which the Being contacts them and instructs them. Over time, without special care, this connection will close to the point where a native can no longer learn hear the Being: this is why each native generally ends up with just one cast. Though these conversations are very real, they are forgotten like dreams, and all that is left is the innate knowledge of one prayer: this prayer is the native's cast.
However, there are some who are elected to not lose this connection. These are the Elders: from a young age, they are selected as the most prodigious of their generation, and kept separate from the trials of life and the learning that closes the minds of the general populace. Instead they spend their time in constant meditation, keeping their minds open for continued conversation with the Beings. These Elders learn many things; not exclusively casts, but also the great wisdom and foresight of these Beings. Therefore, they are revered by the people as great founts of knowledge and protectors. Often when a tribe's leader is faced with a great decision, he will first consult the Elder for guidance.
Technology:
Though the metal ruins of an ancient civilization lie scattered about and beneath the surface of the island, the natives have a primitive level of technology. Theirs is a world of hunting and fighting with bows, swords, and spears. Metal is a common element in their weapons, accessible as it is in the ruins that they half-revere, half exploit.
The natives are, however, an intelligent race. They don't suffer the same problems that the Dark Ages, when such weaponry was used by the humans on Earth, brought upon them. They are generally a clean people, naturally resistant to many diseases but still careful in hygiene. Whether this is due to realization, instinct, or the guidance of the Elders, no one remembers, but generally the natives have a strong understanding of science. Invention is not uncommon, though mass production is: while crossbows are a thing and even some firearms have been made, such things are overkill for hunting and difficult to supply. The lack of a solid supply of dense combustible material has made the creation of trains and such impossible: though, given the relatively-small size of the island and self-sufficiency of the tribes, such isn't really needed, either.
The Enemy:
Ten years ago, a strange furless creature washed up on the shores of the island. The Tribe of the Gull took in this sad small thing, as he (and his curious metal luggage) was the first thing to ever wash upon their shore. They nursed him to health, attempted (but failed) to understand his language, and eventually let him leave, outfitting him with furs and weapons and food. For five years, he retreated to the north and built a metal village for himself, and stuck strictly to his work.
But at the end of that hiatus, he reentered society in a big way: from his metal village came an army of metal creatures, and these ambassadors of his invaded the closest native tribe with ferocity. Unprepared for what they faced, the natives quickly fell to this foe, and for months his blitzkrieg went unchecked: new robots poured from his factory as he scavenged the remains of the villages that he conquered, and his forces became strong by the day.
The natives would not stand for this, though. By this time enough had escaped to other tribes with tales of death and decimation that could not be ignored, and a quick alliance along the front was made. What would continue for the next five years was a war of attrition: casting and primitive-but-rapidly-developing technology versus an unending force of robots. Nothing that the natives could do could hold back the tide, though, and by the end of this five years, nearly half of the island had fallen to the Furless One's metal tide.
An island about the size of New Zealand, and with about the same scenery and geographic diversity. It's heavily wooded in most areas, with lakes and swamps a plenty and some jungle to go with. There are plains in the northern part of the island: generally, things are more-densely wooded the further south one travels. This island is surrounded by a impenetrable veil of storms, which cut it off from the rest of the world. Due to this isolation, the species there have evolved differently and technology has evolved at a much slower rate than elsewhere.
The most-evolved creatures here, the "natives", are a species of bipedal furred mammals. The males average around 7'4" and the females around 5'. They align themselves in tribes: these villages generally keep to themselves, though trading amongst tribes is not uncommon. Each tribe takes it symbol from an animal in their geographic location: the Tribe of Frogs lives in a jungle area, and the Tribe of Storks lives by a shallow lake, for instance. These villages generally have a territory about 2 or 3 days-walk in diameter, so a trading voyage is generally a large event taking at least a week to trade with the nearest neighbors, or longer to trade with others. There's little animosity between the tribes, though squabbles over territory or a migrating herd or a wife are not unheard-of and are often bloody.
Casting and Tribe Leadership:
Casting is the method of magic usage unique to this island. A cast is achieved by praying to a Being, supernatural creatures that seem to have interest in the natives.
Not just anyone may use a cast, though. Each Being accepts different prayers, and only from certain people. This then limits the diversity of casts that one native can generally know: in fact, it is so limited that most only know how to pray for one thing.
The method of obtaining a cast is complicated. Each cast requires a specific prayer to a specific Being, so people cannot teach each other casts. Rather, they learn them from the Beings themselves: at birth, the natives share a connection with a Being through which the Being contacts them and instructs them. Over time, without special care, this connection will close to the point where a native can no longer learn hear the Being: this is why each native generally ends up with just one cast. Though these conversations are very real, they are forgotten like dreams, and all that is left is the innate knowledge of one prayer: this prayer is the native's cast.
However, there are some who are elected to not lose this connection. These are the Elders: from a young age, they are selected as the most prodigious of their generation, and kept separate from the trials of life and the learning that closes the minds of the general populace. Instead they spend their time in constant meditation, keeping their minds open for continued conversation with the Beings. These Elders learn many things; not exclusively casts, but also the great wisdom and foresight of these Beings. Therefore, they are revered by the people as great founts of knowledge and protectors. Often when a tribe's leader is faced with a great decision, he will first consult the Elder for guidance.
Technology:
Though the metal ruins of an ancient civilization lie scattered about and beneath the surface of the island, the natives have a primitive level of technology. Theirs is a world of hunting and fighting with bows, swords, and spears. Metal is a common element in their weapons, accessible as it is in the ruins that they half-revere, half exploit.
The natives are, however, an intelligent race. They don't suffer the same problems that the Dark Ages, when such weaponry was used by the humans on Earth, brought upon them. They are generally a clean people, naturally resistant to many diseases but still careful in hygiene. Whether this is due to realization, instinct, or the guidance of the Elders, no one remembers, but generally the natives have a strong understanding of science. Invention is not uncommon, though mass production is: while crossbows are a thing and even some firearms have been made, such things are overkill for hunting and difficult to supply. The lack of a solid supply of dense combustible material has made the creation of trains and such impossible: though, given the relatively-small size of the island and self-sufficiency of the tribes, such isn't really needed, either.
The Enemy:
Ten years ago, a strange furless creature washed up on the shores of the island. The Tribe of the Gull took in this sad small thing, as he (and his curious metal luggage) was the first thing to ever wash upon their shore. They nursed him to health, attempted (but failed) to understand his language, and eventually let him leave, outfitting him with furs and weapons and food. For five years, he retreated to the north and built a metal village for himself, and stuck strictly to his work.
But at the end of that hiatus, he reentered society in a big way: from his metal village came an army of metal creatures, and these ambassadors of his invaded the closest native tribe with ferocity. Unprepared for what they faced, the natives quickly fell to this foe, and for months his blitzkrieg went unchecked: new robots poured from his factory as he scavenged the remains of the villages that he conquered, and his forces became strong by the day.
The natives would not stand for this, though. By this time enough had escaped to other tribes with tales of death and decimation that could not be ignored, and a quick alliance along the front was made. What would continue for the next five years was a war of attrition: casting and primitive-but-rapidly-developing technology versus an unending force of robots. Nothing that the natives could do could hold back the tide, though, and by the end of this five years, nearly half of the island had fallen to the Furless One's metal tide.