Attarï
Not all of the Merientei agreed with the new sedentary ways and burning of land practiced by the majority. Some instead yearned to live life like their ancestors, free to wander and live off the land, not burn it for fields and be trapped within never-changing walls. These people took the name Attarï, and theirs was one of the first clans not based on shared blood, but on a shared way of life.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
The Attarï wished to restore the old ways of the Allorï, but in the end their legacy promoted the opposite. After the Merientei witnessed and heard of the strange regression of the Attarï, caution and fear grew toward the lands of Attasaraï and whatever invisible threat worked its poisonous arts in the night.
Art & Architecture
The Attarï took pride in never building permanent settlements and instead living in a sëraï—a campsite formed from tall, round tents—in the middle of an unknown territory. They carved and crafted their own tools and forbid the use of any iron.
Foods & Cuisine
These nomads chased after the lifestyle of their ancestors, which they felt had disappeared from the lives of the Merientei. They turned their backs to anything farmed and grown with intent, and instead depended on fishing, hunting and gathering. They cooked the ingredients in a pot or an open flame with whatever else they had found.
History
The Attarï lived alongside Merientei clans and in the borderlands between the people and the untouched wilderness of Attasaraï. They engaged in trade and socialized with the sedentary clans often enough, but a change began to seep in slowly over the years.
Unnoticed at first, the wild foods of Ullonwï revealed themselves poisonous when consumed in excess. The foods did not kill, but a change began to appear in the behavior of the Attarï who relied solely on these gifts of the earth.
The Attarï became something unrecognizable by even the closest of their family. Unpredictable, paranoid, even aggressive. Their memories and mental abilities began to weaken. Many fled at this point, terrified of the changes taking hold within them and those around them. And yet, some stayed, slowly devolving or regressing to something more akin to a rabid beast than human.
No one knew what to do for them, and preferred to protect their own families by simply chasing the Attarï off. There were sages who wished to help, but their old knowledge had no power over the new lands they found themselves on.
In the end, the culture of the Attarï, or its memory, lived on in stories if not in life. Theirs became a cautionary tale about the dangers of Ullonwï and Attasaraï at large. Throughout the following ages, few attempted to prove the stories false. None were known to have succeeded.
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