The contract conditions were the same as usual, though the fact the primitives decided to adopt the diverse faith based pantheon system came at a surprise. Low magic fantasy was getting more popular, so the studios were probably sponsoring this type of integration concept, too.

The 0 plag clause would be a pain.

The countdown was at 0:01:40, his character ready, his clan mostly online and the coordinates set.

Hawk zoned out as he waited.

The numbers slowed to a crawl.

And then everything went bright.

His eyes had to adjust to the sudden influx of sunlight, but once they did he saw a wall made up of wood and rough stones behind the wooden grid. Looking around, he concluded they were fairly high up. To his left was an amazing view of the landscape, a valley full of fields and pastures with a river and behind that high hills or maybe very short mountains. To his right was more of the same, though the slope seemed far steeper.

Bulwark was checking the wall to see if it'd be a viable defense already. The group checking out the soil and local farming techniques was probably the Dryads.

Aaaand, of course the hunters were off to the forest.

The big gate to the local settlement was closed for some reason. Usually newsies ushered their first galactics off to meet their rulers first, but so far all they locals did was stand on the wall and look down. They weren't aiming any bows tough, so that was good. He'd have to wait and see when they would get in, though the landscape ready looked like something he'd enjoy exploring. Later though, it might be his turn advising the locals to kickstart their clan's building projects soon.

While the clan leaders went to talk to the locals he sat down on a rock to enjoy the breeze. It was nice, but boring...until he noticed something concerning. The bushes and trees were huge and the grass was very high, but he hadn't put much thought into it. This was a primitive world, after all.

No, what worried him was that a dove landed nearby, apparently utterly unafraid of humans and far too large for a small bird. His character was above average human size, but the dove was so large it'd likely go to his chest if it stood in front of him. Taking a closer look around he noticed another thing none of them had really been aware of before, just assuming it was a local thing. Everyone had fairly large heads.

The realisation that this planet must have been settled during the third wave dawned on him. They were Pygmies. And if they were unlucky there would be other genetic variations designed to increase settler's survival chances.

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His musings were interrupted when some of the idiots started fighting because of course they did. They had been standing around for more than five minutes, after all. Somebody screamed ‘Fall damage!’ and suddenly a guy was off the cliff and likely dead. A few moments later an avatar in newbie clothing respawned next to the path, giggling. The other idiots were howling various things in triumph.

Idiot number howled in triumph and rant to the cliff to jump again. Apparently it was high enough to give a kick, because suddenly people started jumping after him. Hawk wondered whether bungee jumping was really a good sport to try right next to a brand new newsie village, but it looked fun and the clan leaders were still talking, so he might as well try.

With a smirk he got to his feet, ran to the cliff and jumped.

The wind made him feel as if he was flying free through the air for a few moments…until everything went dark.

Respawn was disorienting as usual after a good jump.

The door was still closed, so he went to jump again. Respawn right next to a jump was rare and probably the best recruitment fact their clan could hope for. Better use it extensively. He didn’t want to be the clan leader who would have to explain why jumping down a cliff would be a local attraction.

By the time the clan leaders called him, Bulwark and the Dryads as well as a few others to enter the settlement it was evening. The others were led to a longhouse further down the mountain. What greeted them as they entered the gates was a very wide, long and only slightly hilly plain. Pastures, fields, a few small houses made of clay about a kilometre down the path, wood and some stone were inside the walls. Paths went along the wall as far as Hawk could see, though he couldn’t see the other end of the plain due to the elevation.

The shape of the steep mountain with a gentler southern slope and a very flat top within a larger valley was unusual, but for this kind of primitive hill fort it was perfect. If they could make proper use of the space a small city could fit within the walls. Definitely more than the few newsies that seemed to be living here.

The clan leaders led the group to a fire with benches made of tree trunks split in half all around it not far from the gate. A few older women brought a large wooden bowl filled with soup as well as platters of dense bread. The fact they didn’t have their own bowls and spoons with them stumped the newsies for a bit, but they seemed to decide that that was the players’ problem as they didn’t offer them bowls.

One of the Dryads complained, but all she got was a confused “Why would anyone travel without a bowl?”. Maybe they had some sort of rule or religious thing about personal bowls. They’d have to get a civ girl in to research that.

First though Hawk took a look around. There was obviously no city planning going on and the building style was heavily restricted by a severe lack of techniques. These people were even more primitive than the usual newsie planet, but if they really were part of the third wave it wasn’t surprising.

The 0 plag restriction was going to be a real problem. How the hell were they supposed to teach such primitive people enough to get them to research stuff on their own when the concepts of higher learning and research were totally foreign to them?

While Hawk was in lalaland with his thoughts the locals sat all around them, on reed mats and on the ground, along a low stone wall not far away and in the grass. Each person got some soup from the large bowl, though they brought a different soup from somewhere or it wouldn’t have been enough. The two groups watched each other while conversations and whispers filled the air.

Eventually, one of the oldest newsies got to their feet and cleared their throat.