The Bibilonians

Bibilionians are a remarkable species of insatiable bibliophiles. These people are the closest ancestors to the Neanderthals. Evolution has given humanity privy knowledge thereafter curiosity to act on it. Residing in their colloquially known horseshoe range, smack in the corner of the continent known as Yukamo. Marked with an overgrown mountain ridged range that consists mostly of immense trees from the trunk all the way to the tremendously mesmerizing green leafy canopy. Called home by expressive flittering birds chirping from their nests built upon branches and the little bugs that find sanctuary in the shade as well, such as butterflies, dragon flies, and if your lucky you will witness the firebug colony at night paired with the symbiotic blue-green cotton shrubs that encircle us down to the grassy plains with sparse foliage here and there. All of this greenery makes for excellent conditions. Owing to the temperate climate year-round and the nutrient-rich soil, these individuals maintain a thriving colony rich with a family culture. One can feel the warm ambiance of this village through the veins of the gigantic expanse of mesmerizing artistic grasslands and curvy rolling foothills covered in bright lush grass that make even the eldest want to frolic, explore, and pick wildflowers growing abundantly. Extending a week of travel by horse carriage, you will find there is an end to the range which leads into a long f*******n place where generations before a stiff ban was enacted on even the mention or attempt to cross the plains, punishable by exile, meaning if you left. You will be immediately disowned. This became effective when Culo led our ancestors across what he would always call the vast lands. Volt stashed the books in a trunk beneath the library, insisting the nightmares contained in those books were f*******n. Trying to divert attention from the history of their ancestors, Volt encouraged the colony to look forward to research and discovering the vast amounts of knowledge waiting for discovery. Using his one tool to control the simmering in the metaphorical pot. Unbeknownst to them, they engineered a catalyst that will spread to form many great civilizations in the future. Instead of just hunting and gathering to fill time, now they will have a route to higher intellect and achievements. For context, the Bibilonians were set before Jerusalem and Egypt combined, so this goal was an essential step into the later ages. With that in mind. The village is quite young, only three generations have led this colony. King Volt was the third village elder. Following him was his father Bewrt, preceding his grandfather Culo. Each generation has made a valuable impact through their respective practices. For example, his father was a farmer before he became an elder, so a lot of his achievements were of agricultural importance. In contrast, Bewrt’s father was a builder by profession, therefore most of his accomplishments were of architectural significance. Volt is unlike either, since he was raised more privileged than most due to being an elder's son. Most of his understanding is book smarts he has learned from other elders around town reading the books they have published in the quintessential writing hut that was built in remembrance of the expedition that cultivated this fondness. A lot of his achievements so far have been built on a broad spectrum; education, industry, economics, and innovation, in part because those are Volt’s core values he was taught to uphold his whole life. Young lances are put through a required etiquette course during their elementary years. Their final grade dictates how many years of this course will be mandated by the conglomerate education council that is ever expanding as new professors are sworn in, each specializing in a niche field, working in tandem to make a uniform plan to educate all Bibilonians equally. Even with high standards, their leader is a socialite. Often, you will find Volt laid back in the middle of the market street, during peacetime at least. Otherwise, he is the first to rise and make sure future generations may survive. Mingling among the village, soaking in the true beauty of the hand-built generation-designed cottages, stone roadways, beautifully maintained flower beds made of intricate dark grain wood slates or mortared stone. Boasting ornate pargeting, complementing each symmetrical eloquent swirl decorating the eves of each cottage invoking childhood memories of frolicking on the clay, shingled roofs, the exterior cladding hand-painted blue using inedible berries from the tree of wisdom located in the garden a walk away from town at the foot of the North side of the horseshoe plains, the tree is said to be over three hundred years old through comparing the trunk with other younger trees that were probably seeded by this tree. This came about one fall day when a builder queried his foreman as to what peculiar rings in the trunk of the trees they were milling for the village. Just as the foreman and builder speculated as time went on, the crew realized each tree had a different number of rings, so they began recording the rings, submitting the results on paper to the community council alongside their individual summary for preliminary review before getting pushed forward into the. Since the community council has only three members at maximum, each member is chosen carefully by founder and coordinator Scott from the law all the way to event planning. With that in mind, you now mentally see this council process. King Volt facilitated the inveterate habit originating in their initial years when they discovered a series of tablets during an exploration to find nearby caves in search for spring water to replenish the famished wells. Instead, they found something far more bewitching. Incorporating what they found during research, most efforts focused on learning the language, which would then lead in to a deeper investigation, they found that these tablets were an alphabet for a written language as they performed the deep examination. The aforementioned discovery in a cavern a few miles hike from the village was a collection of stone tablets, chairs, tables to pottery that had long been crumbled from the effects of years. Gaining entrance to the cavern required shuffling underneath a fear-consuming passage topside filled with rubble from what looked to be a landslide, leading explorers to believe there was more to this cavern that slid into the lake just off the right side of the trail with a steep seventy-degree slope down to a jagged beachfront rock. Since they are no fools, they are just curious. Bibilonians labored supports into the rocky hand dug cave entrance requiring hours of risky effort, any second the roof could have dislodged offing one or more people in the wake. Listening to the foreman’s assurances did not aid the gut feeling we should not squeeze underneath. Against every fighting subconscious thought. Scott, the smallest of the group, offered to scoot the rucksacks into the cavern. Then, Volt threw a laugh amid the stench of fear permeating the air almost like a febrezed outhouse. After their awaited return carrying a trunk inside the castle bailey, the village speculated on what little the company of scouts found down there. Volt had secluded himself in his study, nobody thought to disturb him since he usually gets as spicy as a Noel pepper. Volt himself brought the knowledge to us after our full moon ceremony. Looking out at all of the listening faces that surrounded the table, he stood holding two hefty tablets, explaining the language and how he planned to teach the language. This way, we can advance our communication skills as he used feature language to persuade his colony into taking a big leap. On the other hand, the benefit language is also in here too. Acting as the catalyst leading to more tablets being written on various projects around the village, and the knowledge spread around in local eateries, taverns, and homes alike. From farming testing all the way to the fisherman down along the shore, using it for things like tracking migratory patterns. Just like with all new things, the luster had been fading. Stone carving was prevalent in the village for a few years as they learned the language, though this became quickly primitive, so a new form of communication was needed as the village advanced into the bronze era. Bibilonians became more intelligent as they moved into the bronze age. Now the stone format is found to be too task intensive, a city vote was cast out looking for input or ideas. Alass a less resource-intense option was offered to Volt by the town tradesman who used a parchment of paper and ink from gathered fish. Just like the agreement, the charismatic tradesman Drate haggled a deal with the fisherman and the tradesman had a deal. Drate would supply the fisherman with replacement poles, or new hooks. In exchange for ink sacks collected from the annual jellyfish run, downstream where the lake meets the ocean. The tradesman became known for his invention by selling drafting tools, carved wood ink wells filled with ink, and pieces of simple pressed paper made by pulping woodshavings into a barrel using water and wood shavings. Plus a flat round pressing plate. When the pulp is pressed, it pushes the water out through small holes in the side of the barrel. This is the pulp that will be removed by a handful and placed between two heavy evenly flat stone slabs underneath the midday sun. Unexpectedly, this began. More paper was needed, almost doubling every month, so Drate paid builders by the sack for a satisfactory weight. By suggestion of the foreman, he invited Volt into his warehouse of goods, which was a simple timber thatch wall and a basic doorway leading into what was a cave he had been rudimentary excavating since he bought the land from a sheep herder, a commitment since the owner could not use the ground for grazing any longer due to repressed condition of the land. This deal gave the farmer more funds to buy more land from the city council further into the grassland. The irony is. It is against the rules in Bibilonia for a farmer to sell their agricultural or grazing land without just cause, so the owner had to use the most striking of reasons for the sale to be validated. If this deal had not happened, the library would not be there, it would have remained a sheepherder grazing land. Drate decided to help do his part to make the village a better place, therefore. A contract with Drate was signed, the first city lease in Bibilonia. The elders had a new warehouse carved from the interior walls about 30 feet long and 20 feet tall to accommodate the hand-built shelves of goods. The same magnificent craft skills of the Bibilonian village. The rest is now public commons as per the lifetime agreement. In thanks, the tradesman was also given a free stand in the market circle. They were constructed with the utmost craft skills, just as temples were built in later eras for worship. In this case, knowledge is considered sacred. Libraries remained hidden in massive hand-carved catacombs, shelves filled with alphabetically and topic-sorted books from stem to stern, industrious elevator platforms extended into the tall ceilings, the same as followed by the topmost bookshelves. The refined village culture moved into the homey cavern paired with hand-sewn rugs, torches, and sofas paired with chairs, shaped like pairs with stairs in pairs. Everything Biblianians thoroughly habitually gathered and researched data from; plants, animals, and geological finds to name a few. In their culture, knowledge is seniority. People truly dedicated every free minute to chasing a new adventure each day. Building an extensive archive of everything on earth and more, true bibliophiles from what we have found over the past two years of careful digging. From well-made books to stone art depicting various pieces of knowledge, we are still deciphering as we speak. That way, when something foreign ends up on their territory. They would know it was new, which is the philosophy that came across us during our research into Scotts tomes. In this in-depth documentary, we go all the way back to the prehistoric days when humanity had to conquer Dinos just to get some fresh air or use the restroom, for that matter… It all began when the elder King Volt decided to further include history scribed just like they found on those antique tablets showing how strong historical finds invigorate the people's script. It took him years to test and, therefore, would be deemed a worthy apprentice who would follow him every day and scribe down the Tomes Of Bibilonia. That noble person was, Marquees Scott Vivian, was born Bibilonian and raised by a single mother who was a stitchery during the night and his caretaker full-time daily. His father was a coal miner working at the Crest for over 30 years until the coal mine ate over thirty good men as they were working to keep their families warm. Sadly, this included his father figure. Therefore, Scott was inevitably bullied more than his peers, bless his heart, but in the time of the Biblianians, the fathers taught warrior skills to their young during lace-hood. Scott was left out of these events, and even by his mother's dire request she was declined, since in his childhood women were home during the day, and only permitted to work at night. Volt’s mother was talented, but the same was refused work. To mitigate future damage to the colony, Scott had it repealed to state all genders equally. This was also where Scott started to form a plan for the city council to better handle any issues or disputes in a lawful manner with due justice and fairness. Z had agreed with the written plan. Nevertheless, he forwarded it to the council for further speculation. Surviving doing his best to freelance learn using broom handles and leaves for padding. It blew over, but he felt something different from his mom. She was in pain inside but would not admit what was on her head until Scott was of Lancing age. At this time, Drate owned 68% of the trade share in BIbilonia. Drate grew up on the outskirts, his first thoughts as he left to break ground among the Bibilonian streets where the law was rampant for many years until new policies and regulations were formed. After peace had been restored, Drate emerged from the shadows using the little funds he had gathered from sympathetic Biblianians to purchase a cart and donkey, providing just enough space to start flipping and selling goods on the streets where he could. Growing up poor in the rural outskirts living in tents off the land but wanting to make a difference to others living on the outskirts drinking water that flows through the village, Scott decided to move into the city for a school, taking an opportunity provided by a passing-through merchant who works for the tradesman Drate. The opportunity came when the merchant and Scott began talking about trade. Scott had a sharp intellect, the merchant suspected, as he brought up the scholarship Drate had been offering. Before he leaves to head to the city against his mother's wishes, she is convinced he’ll become as corrupt as the rest of the Lances and Elders. Pulling his mother aside brought the reality to life, since she feels the situation was not addressed properly. After that, Scott has been working,, up to Capital Lance at a minimum, which will set him up to be able to rebuild a better system to replace coal. Securing his advancement letter from a courier after his request a month or so prior. As a capital lance, he submitted a memoir to the election ballot confident he was qualified. It is decided he thought to himself excitedly as he boarded the carriage in his refined clothes intended to express sophistication. As he continued his studies, without faltering either goal, since both were equally prudent. A week passed with no sight of the courier, leaving Scott pacing and restless during his free time with nothing to preoccupy himself with the racing thoughts of working for the king. Accepting the apprenticeship after submitting his moving memoir on a whim, looking for work at the royal print shop he had been employed for a few years to trade for a college education. Recently, we laid off a bunch of writers to take a larger cut for themselves. "I don't even know how I got here`` Scott threw his hands up fretting at his royal inauguration, on the verge of second-guessing himself, behind the curtain, so he had to power pose discreetly minutes before the debut of the winner. Pacing a hole in the floor waiting, Volt mentioned his name and snapped him out of his subconscious mental lull. On the stand, awestruck. Gazing out into the sea of biblionians cheering with words of praise and claps alike. "Do you vow to serve your king through trial, to sedate whatever it takes?" 'Yes sir it would be my honor' as he began writing what he never thought would make history.., let alone make it a legend. But he did indeed do just that. The book illuminated blue as a new nobleman had been inaugurated. Scott felt a funny sensation flowing through his soul. His cylindrical aura around him flashed a bright white, then faded off quickly, revealing Scott wearing a black cloak over a soft tunic fasted using a gemstone brooch that emanated a blue glow.