The Tribe of Ik'su'ru

The first writing in the diary of Kaldon Thanzam, a human explorer, regarding the isolated and mysterious Tribe of Ik'su'ru.
I found myself panting, the slow blaze of the sun searing the back of my neck. The pouch of wine at my belt half-empty, my shoes filled with gritty sand, and my skin red with the heat of the desert. Suffice to say, my hopes of finding a luscious land of fine foods, good drink, and shelter were quite orderly being dashed away.

Alone on my march, airy waves began to appear in the horizon. Stretching out as far as I could, struggling up and down sand dunes of all sizes, my body was fatigued- seemingly, beyond all hope. Yet, as I walked, there were telltale signs of something new. Flecks of red stone, into looming boulders of a strong crimson. Determined flora, clutching to these stones, grew more common as I neared what I hoped was a new land. Then, perplexingly.

A monument. Built of that same red stone, a pillar stretching tall into the sky. What inscriptions were writ into it’s surface I could not tell… yet the scrabbling nature of these runes, the rough-cut of the stone, told me that whichever people had created such a site were not of the same skills as the other kingdoms and nations I have visited on my travels. Thus, my joy at finding civilisation was stymied by a growing dread that should I encounter this people, I might be met with a tribe most isolated, and potentially, most wild…

They were quite wild. Thankfully, however, not as barbaric, and bloodthirsty as I had worried in my growing dread and delirium. The first I saw of them was a shadow passing overhead as I entered the shade of a great canyon, the flap of wings alerting me as I frantically glanced to the clouds. I continued on- one eye on my feet, the other to the sky. Utterly fatigued, I stopped to rest in a small corner- I collapsed instantly into a deep slumber. I awoke to the feel of soft cloth on my feet and hands, my weight lulled by a hammock tied up within a carven cave in the side of a cliff. At once I was on guard- yet once my avian saviours entered, bearing a bowl of fresh fruits and a honey-roasted lizard, I calmed myself. They are a people unlike any I have seen- covered in feathers from head to toe-claw, they are a birdlike species which stands on two legs, with their arms functioning both as appendages that can grab and perform delicate acts such as writing and the playing of instruments, whilst also functioning as wings, enabling the “Ta’kir”, to glide down from the heights of their canyon-homes when they leave their lofty settlement to forage for food. I currently write this with the setting sun as my light, so I must conclude this chapter soon, as these people do not yet possess candles. I’ve been living with these birdmen for three days now, being fed and watered each day, and the tribespeople have expressed a curiosity in me which I reflect onto them. Their language is quite difficult, once more unlike any I have encountered before- clicking, calls, harsh consonants and yet a flowing, graceful speech slips from their beaks as I try to, admittedly poorly, imitate and learn. I shall continue to document my findings, and what I learn of this mesa tribe as the days pass.