The Mhun Chronicler- First Recount

By: Deviar Posted on: August 12, 2010

First Recount- The View of One Mhun 16th of Lupar, 544 years after the fall

I have spend several months wandering these alien lands, but my accounts shall begin here. Mhun are never known for sharing thoughts, secrets, or feelings. My people are driven by necessity where actions speak much louder than simple words. However, I write now out of necessity. Knowledge from my exploration floods my head daily then slips into dreams in the night. I fear the wonderment I experience now will wither under time's uncaring touch. I would like to apologize if this text wanders without aim. As I write, countless memories and thoughts fight for the opportunity to be immortalized in this text.

Emerging from the pool will always be the most important memory of my life. Realize that in Moghedu, water is rare and precious. To have enough water to submerge your body would give a Mhun wealth untold. To enter that water is unimaginable. My mind was reveling in the surreal sensation of water when I experienced colour for the first time. Moghedu is a land of earth and desert. It is a place of unsurpassed beauty and I will miss my home dearly. I have always grown up knowing the colour green, but now I realize that I had not truly known the life instilled beauty of green. The Trial of Rebirth was more literal for me than anyone could comprehend.

My first contact with life outside Moghedu has been both shocking and soothing. People have a steadfast determination for helping outsiders integrate into this melting pot. This is a strange concept to me. For Mhun's, our culture is our life, and outside influences destroy some of that life. We are by no means an arrogant and mean spirited people, but our identity is as deeply rooted as our will to survive. There is a saying that illustrates our sense of identity. Roughly translated it says "Mhun has left them", which is used when a Mhun has died. To truly understand our culture, you must realize that this phrase is also used if a Mhun goes insane or rejects their heritage. This helps to explain our lack of hospitality but not pure hostility. Killing and shunning outsiders would bring armies to our home. Fully welcoming outsiders would also destroy who we are.

In strange way, this is the reason why I am here. I had realized that the powerful cities of this age had a mix of all of the races. By combining the strengths of each, these cities are able to rise further than Moghedu could ever reach. For a Mhun, this is sacrilege. I realized that as people settled Sapience, the isolation that Mhun enjoyed would slowly disappear and our inhospitable attitudes would become our bane. I believed that the secret to Mhun's survival should be to reach out and gain allies. This plea fell of deaf ears and it quickly degenerated to me preaching on the street like a deranged doomsayer. I had earned the nickname "Stirge" because it was thought that I sucked the life out of Mhun. Soon, my people believed that Mhun had left me. In Moghedu, this means that I received the same treatment as an outsider. In trying to save my people I had lost them.

As I live my new life in Hashan, I hear the occasional rumor of attacks on Moghedu. Hashan remains safe from these same attacks because of it's champions and politicians. It remains safe because of its acceptance of everything Sapience has to offer. Moghedu is at the crossroads of its life as a city. I wish I had the persuasive power of Nicator to help them make the right choices.