The Nameseek

For most tribes in The Blood Swamp, a name is not given at birth. Children and youth carry only the name of their tribe, and are differentiated from each other in conversation only by their parents and relative age. As such, you have only ever been called Child of Mudheel Sneaktrapper. Today, though, you lose even that identity. Two moons past marked your eighteenth year of life, and so you now stand naked and unarmed in the center of Mudheel Village with your two peers, waiting for the village leader to arrive and begin the ceremony. You shoot a glance towards your father, Sneaktrapper, and reflect that twenty years ago, he was standing here, without a name, probably just as nervous and excited as you are now. The thought gives you some comfort. He was able to find his name a mere eighteen months later, when he returned wearing a tiger pelt and leading three slaves. He took two of the slaves as his own, and one of them gave birth to you a short while later. Having a nameless for a mother might hold you back in other tribes, but the Mudheel tribe believes strongly in letting every individual succeed or fail based solely on their own merits, which is what brings you here today.

The village leader, a large, hairless man wearing a feathered cape and using a forged iron spear like a walking stick, had finally arrived and was standing before you and your fellow youth. “Mudheel young,” His voice booms out across the village, and the ambient conversations all fall into silence as the tribe gives its full attention to their leader. “Today, you have no name. Today, you have no skill. Today, you have no value. A strong tribe is made of strong people. Today, you are weak. Today, I reject you from the Mudheel tribe.”

Had you not heard this speech every year, his words might be shocking to hear. Certainly, if an outsider were in attendance, the opening lines would seem unfairly harsh. But everyone here was Mudheel, by birth or by choice or by , and many of them had been through this ceremony themselves. After an acceptable pause, the leader continues. “Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be strong. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will have skill. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will find your name. Should such a tomorrow come, the Mudheel tribe will welcome you back. But today, your only home is the swamp. Now. Begone!” The leader thumps the butt of his spear against a stump, once, twice, three times. His words have become law. You and your peers turn away from the chief and walk past the ring of trees that mark the edge of the village. Nobody follows you, but a sentry watches passively from a tree, and you know there are a couple scouts outside the village to make sure you all go your separate ways.

One of the other nameless youths thinks themself a warrior, and breaks South as soon as you clear the treeline. Their next few months will likely be focused on stealing or crafting a weapon, and finding an adequate foe against whom to test themself. They remind you of your father, both in appearance and in cruelty. Your other peer, you know, lacks a clear goal, and shoots you a nervous look before taking a deep breath and heading East. Your eyes slide up and down their pretty curves as they disappear into the swamp. They will likely be at a nearby clearing gathering Visionweed, a common first step for those on their Nameseek. After about an hour of aimless wandering, you pause to consider your next step...

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Hey there! Trying something a bit different to get the creative juices flowing. For this story, I'd like to involve the audience a bit more than I usually do. I'll be keeping a close eye on comments, chapter submissions, and incoming messages, and allowing them to influence the chapters I write and even the worldbuilding across different threads. The introduction is intentionally light on details or direction, but hopefully has enough to tickle your imagination.