(I know this has been made before but never too successfully.) You are an early humanoid and must survive dinosaurs, tar pits and many other prehistoric dangers. Nothin much else to say.
NameAnything you want) Tribe nameNothing offensive) Tribe numbers1-150 More people means more resources but also more needs) Health conditionHealthy to start) Inventory:Flint, Flint knife
I say to my men that using a wide log we could craft a recipient for the tar, but the expedition to get it will be the next day. I send a couple of men to recollect more wood.
You find a nice forest and flint is readily available. You start collecting it with the axes. You collect large piles of wood and flint. The sun is starting to set. What now?
I carve some axe blades, and give them to my men, instructing them to bind them to wooden pieces at the tar pits, since we can't carry tar jet. Once the axes are bound, we shall take down the tree and build the tar deposit.
"Hear me now, tribesmen of the Lazandonii, hunters of the mythic Valley of Donii. There was a time when we wandered in the wilderness, with no path and no purpose. We knew nothing about the wood, nothing about the stone, and nothing about the fire. We were but animals. In those dark times, we where hunted by ferocious creatures, chased and killed without a chance to fight back, for our fangs and claws are nothing against the tough skin of the beasts. We also were apart of each other, and family or friendship were words unkown, survival was the only thing that mattered. But alone and with no tools, soon we would perish in such a dangerous place, the Lazandonii Valley. But the spirits came to our aid in the dark times. A man, the first clan man ever, noticed how the feral dogs could take down bigger and stronger beasts, by uniting efforts. He came to the conclusion that only united we could survive. But no one would listen to his words. He had no status, he had no power, he had nothing. But one night, when the stars shined gracefully upon his he had a dream. He dreamt of a woman, whose name was Lazan, "The Wise". This woman showed the man how he could convince the others. The next day, the clan man found our first stones: flint and marcasite. Together, they made fire. And flint by its own would make tools as sharp as sabertooth fangs. With fire in one hand and the first knife in the other, the man convinced a few to join him, teaching them to attack as a pack of Donii, Great Dogs. Soon, the group became a tribe, a clan, named Lanzandonii, the Wise Dogs. That is the story of our ancestors. This, we must never forget: only united we can persist. Only with cleverness we can endure. We are Lazandonii." I say to my tribe.
Well cannibalism leads to a horrible disease that liquifies your brain inside your head so no. You have three days of food and a water source but your only defense is your small flint knife. What do you do?
