Jurdes 16, 5676

When you find a fresh, dead telef along the boundary between the jungle and the mountains in a region no one’s visited in thousands of years, and it’s evident it didn’t die of natural causes or a violent breeding battle, it’s probably a good idea to avoid the area.

We spotted the dead beast early today, and approached it on our telefs. As we neared, Rar suddenly stopped and motioned for the rest of us to stop. He carefully looked around the area, as if trying to find something hiding in the surrounding terrain. It was about that time I noticed several spears sticking from the side of the dead animal. There were no doubt people in the region, and we disturbed their hunting party. Not seeing anyone, he held his spear horizontally above his head, and then tossed it to the ground. The result was several men emerging from their hiding places.

We were surrounded, outnumbered, and none of them spoke our language, or so it seemed by their incoherent chatter. They were different from us, slightly shorter, gray-skinned, and wore woven grass and plants around their waists. Their spears had points on each end. However, I think they were frightened since we were riding the telefs, something I doubt they’ve ever seen before. Rar managed to talk to them in his strange dialect, and soon had them leading us to a village.

If we thought Razhinoch with its mud huts was primitive, Puv’l Ewoy was even more so. Their shelters consist of skins stretched over stick frames. The women and children wore even less than the men did. Their weapons were sharpened sticks. Fortunately, we learned at least some of them could understand our language even if they didn’t speak it. This made it slightly easier to communicate with them.

They are Huvudets, a tribal race somehow scattered in small, remote villages throughout much of the world. Their most famous village is located on Sarda, but I’ve heard of at least two in Bagda. I do not think they travel or communicate between villages, so they are isolated completely from others of their race. What they were doing here in Etnyben we don’t know, but perhaps everything we think we know about them is wrong.