Before We Were the Nauroxians, Page ?

When the Nauroxians were young, we were named and taken from the wide free spaces that we called home. We were told we could no longer roam, that we could no longer graze on the young wild shoots that we loved.

At first we were sad, we mourned. But we have overcome that, we find our happiness in the trees and the stones. It was for our safety, they told us, as others of their kind would surely harm us if they found us. We could only trust the Zyrkari of the city-state Jorath. We trusted them, our older brothers.

They taught us how to cover ourselves with strong metals. They taught us strength was in our muscles and the metal weapons, not in the weakness of the gentle magicks we knew. They taught us language and writing, but only some as other parts were too complex for us yet. They taught us to cook our food instead of foraging and hoping that Justice would provide for the worthy.

The oxem, who bear the young, were kept safe behind their walls, cooking and serving in return. The oxen, strong and mighty, learned to go to war with the city-state Razun.

A certain young oxen might find himself not returning from that place, but we were told by the Jorath-Zyr that sometimes sacrifices must be made. They sacrificed much to provide and help us, they said. We must be partners with them and help them in return.

I leave the before pages with the oral tales of our people from the before times so that they are not lost, and leave more pages after this for my sons, who are strong young oxen, to write the after tales of the Nauroxians as they grow under the ever watchful and wise eyes of those who care for us and nurture us from the savages we were.

Do not forget my name, Ghunthar! Do not forget my battle call, tharik ghakatir!