Tjartel Tjuiv
Ko-ún is a massive world, home to many strange lands and creatures. To tell the story of Tjartel, we have to start at one of the most peculiar places and consequently "people" of this plane.
While the name of this island is peculiar: "Numamkuam" (meaning "Never stops" in the language of it's inhabitants), it's by far not the most surprising feature.
Numamkuam seems to be a small and secluded yet normal island in the ocean but as it's name suggests, it is always on the move. The creatures living on Numamkuam are aware their island moves but think nothing of it. After all they have never known any different and they seem quite content with their simple lives. Most tortles live of the land and find a partner just after they become adults at 15 years of age. Sadly, due to some natural limitations of their reproductive organs this also means most of them don't live past the age of 50.
Tjartel his life did not follow the course of his brethren, at a young age he knew he was different from most. He had a talent for druidic matters, not uncommon for his species, and got through the basics while still a child. Within the year even the oldest druid had nothing to teach Tjartel any more. That did not stop Tjartel, he started studying the flora, fauna and anything he could find on Numamkuam, but an island has it boundaries and soon Tjartel ran out of research material.
There was one thing he could still study whenever he got a chance, one of nature's most impressive spectacles. It would always excite Tjartel when he saw the dark clouds travelling towards the island against the wind. While everyone took cover Tjartel would be at the seaside in awe of nature's forces. That is where (mis)fortune struck Tjartel, the storm unrooted a tree which hit him in the back. His shell prevented a fatal blow but it did knock him unconscious and in to the air.
With a sore head Tjartel awoke to find himself floating, floating with nothing in sight... There are little places where life seems so scarce as on the open ocean and the days in the burning sun went by slowly. At night he got something to look at, the stars provided comfort and Tjartel gained a new found understanding of the Cosmological power locked within them. His druidic powers enabled him to sustain himself while he floated for what seemed centuries. Normally the hot sun would rudely pull him out of his dreams between the stars but this time it was something else.
A strange sensation went through Tjartel's shell, he vaguely recognised it from a time long ago but his sleepy brain was having trouble identifying it. He was bopping back and forth while scrapping over something, "oh I couldn't reach that itch for years" he thought. Enjoying this pleasant change from his usual wake up horror he laid there for a couple of second untill his eyes shot open; "Scratching!?!". He jolted up and tried to dance, his deteriorated muscles giving away under him. On the ground he exclaimed; "LAND! It's real, it's Land! Oh thank the Stars!", he looked around and couldn't believe his senses, land, so much land, it just kept going as far as he could see, and trees and plants none of which he had ever seen. At that moment Tjartel must have been the happiest tortle in existence, if not history.
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