For at least three years, the tribes on the ark had been at peace. There was no room for man to fight among themselves. Four tribes had managed to thrive on the island, one in each corner, with several encampments and trading routs dotting various areas. There were even a few farms branching in the more fertile parts of the island, providing the tribes with food and mounts. If they were to fall to conflict, it would only make surviving so much harder as the island it's self was covered in prehistoric creatures.
None of the tribes really understood how such a diverse ecosystem was possible. Given the fact that the island had a high ratio of carnivores to herbivorous all around. Even they themselves should not have been capable of surviving the rapidly changing climates, or the aforementioned beasts of the land. Yet somehow, the island was not only stable, but thriving against all logic.
What they did know was that life was not this way in any other part of the world. Elders told stories, passed on by their elders past, of a world covered in stone. Where only creatures that stood no taller than three men at most could survive on land, and the largest of the sea beasts was no bigger than sixty nine to ninety feet in length. And where man was constantly in conflict with one another.
These stories were quite jarring to younger members of the tribes. Their days of conflict ended when the blood staining the battle fields attracted carnivores far larger than any had seen before, or would see again with any hope. These events had almost certainly been the cause for harmony between the tribes.
This peace was kept by a set of competitions held once every season. Seven or eight events took place over just as many days as well as small games and feasts. It was by no means original. Several cultures did something similar in the 'outer lands' as they called them. However, it worked to keep the tribes from conflict.
Many young contestants and breeders would bring their tenderly raised dinosaurs to compete in the many events. From the obstacle courses, to the sky chases the competitions grew more and more elaborate each and every season. It became a grand spectacle of well raised and trained beasts and skilled riders. All of it was overseen by a ceremony master from each of the four tribes and a single farm woman called the festival maid. Often, the outer colonies contributed by helping to build and referee the events.
All festivals took place near the center of the island, just a bit south. A neutral ground where conflict had never reached surrounded by rivers and protected by high walls nearly taller than the average brontosaur. It was forbidden to live on this land even for the festival maid, in order to keep the ground clear. However, there were still one or two farms and hunting posts out laying the land across the festival grounds. This ensured there was enough food and room to put on a more spectacular array each season and not drain the winter resources, in theory.
The fall festival was no exception to the norm. Colorful banners and cheerful flags were draped and flown on every wall and each rooftop. Several of the domestic dinosaurs were colorfully painted in tribal designs, or just pretty doodles. Sweets made from berries, and ground long grass were being sold at bustling stands along the events. Feasts of fine meats and rare vegetables were readily available to any, if were so inclined.
But the real spectacle lay in the events and games. Young ones were playing rounds of 'catch the dodo' and 'find the white rock'. Couples would play 'this way, that way' a game in which one partner was blindfolded while riding a Parasaur and the other would try to guide them to different check points. Former soldiers would have wrestling matches while the elders had several forms of gambling available to them.
A few of the single men and women in the tribes would use the festivals to try and show their worth and find a suitor, usually by competing. Some would participate in the games or the dances, others would simply try to meet people through conversation.
The festival maid stood with a wide smile on her face, a small green Dilophosaur sidling up to her side. The first day of the festival had only begun, and already it was going quite well. She placed a delicately carved stone horn to her lips and blew earning the attention of the tribes. She gestured behind her to a sort of grand stand.
The first even was about to begin. Many of the contestants hurried to their places, leading either hand reared, or well trained triceratops to the designated gates on either side of a long track. One of the referees pointed each one to their side of the stretch.
The track it's self was large, and was made of simple dirt, stone fences lining either side and a white line in the center. Near the grand stands was a pen, a rose colored female trike staring lazily from the center. The contestants and their trikes were all heavily armored, making sure no blood would be spilled. Only bull trikes could participate in these games, but the riders could be any gender.
The idea of the completion was for each of the male trikes to meet in the center and spar as they would naturally for the right to the female in the herd. Mean while, the riders would try to knock one another off the already fighting beast with a padded sort of scythe crossed with a hammer.
The riders were only to try and knock one another off the sides though, so the fallen would land over the fence and not between two dueling behemoths. Were a rider to fall behind their trike, the audience was required to shout 'back!' and the other rider was required to back their beast away. This was so the fallen would not be stepped on.
If one trike were to push the other enough to make it over the line, or the rider were to fall off, a winner would be declared.
Men and women piled into the grand stand, discussing who had a chance at winning and what tribe they would root for. Often they'd be cheering on their tribe members, however, a few would cheer for another tribe. As soon as every one was settled in a seat, the game began.
The first set of riders were from the South-west tribe, and the North-east tribe, better known for having hardier people than creatures. However, the North-east tribe was often more durable as they lived in colder climates. Where as the South-west where known for being more energetic.
The South rider was a young man with a lithe frame but a strong set of arms. The North was a small, stout woman who could hardly reach her legs around the great beast she rode.
The horn blew once more and the gates blocking the combatants were let loose. The bull trikes were easily urged into charging one another. They met exactly in the center and clashed with a hard clack. The audience roared loudly as the two beasts met in combat.
Locking their horns together and pushing just as hard as they could, both trikes began to rear upright. As they did this, the man was the first to try and swing the woman off her mount. Though she proved to be harder to hit thanks to her small stature. When ever he did hit her, she almost toppled only to recover.
The woman in turn began throwing wild blows aiming for his chest, however, her short little arms couldn't quite reach. In the end it was really down to the mounts. The womans trike being evidently weaker. She may have raised him by hand, but her trike was still quite young, the other was much older and had experience. He was losing ground, fast.
The womans wild blows eventually hit the man in the leg, causing him to jolt. This shocked the older trike into flicking his head and jarring the other into nearly stumbling. This shook the woman from her place and she fell, landing not on the sidelines as she should have, but right behind her trike and almost under his feat.
The man was only aware of this when a call of "BACK! BACK! BACK!" overcame the crowd. He did just as he was supposed to, taking the trikes reigns and pulling, urging the beast to give ground. The woman took the chance to scramble away and under the fence. Her mount stopping when he saw her to his right when she was supposed to be atop his back.
The crowd cheered both riders on, however, as it was a mere game after all. Another set of contestants was already preparing in the stands while the man backed his mount into an exit. The riderless trike was soon backed by a few of the referees while the defeated contestant was checked for injury.
Soon a pair of men from the South-east and North-West tribes were loosed. Both of them strong and well built from hard work one a more warlike people due to the carnivore heavy area they lived in.
It didn't take long for the two to rush out of the gates, both men swinging violently at one another. Both of their mounts were battle worn, being old pros at this competition and actual combat. However, the northernmost Triceratops was older, as was evident by it's slower movements.
The men were of little use in this competition as neither of them even budged with the others blow. Instead, the younger, southern trike began pushing against it's elder, giving the occasional shove of his head. Sure enough, the older beast gave way. Backing up and surrendering the fight as the younger chased him back.
These jousting tournaments took place over the course of the morning and most of the afternoon. In the end The south-east tribe lost to a single breeder on the outskirts of the swamp. The scraggly looking man seaming to be quite week, but actually packing quite the punch. And where he failed, his much more bulky and short trike made up for with it's smaller build giving it leverage on the much bigger beasts.
They were both awarded a wearable medal. The man was given the egg to a fine bred Trike from the lines of the last three winners. Several breeders and beast keepers approached the scrawny man asking to borrow his trike and raise a stronger herd.
As the contestants and tribe members nearly assaulted the man with heavy amounts of praise and questions, the two first contestants hung back, checking up on one another. The short woman seamed to laugh over something the man said, making a few gestures and quipping a bit of northern humor to him.
This did not go unnoticed by the festival maid, nor the masters of ceremonies. If all went well, they would soon be hosting an inter-tribal wedding. Or so they hoped. It would be a great step towards keeping the peace. Already the four masters began discussing the decorations, and where each flag would sit, what would serve as the couples ride home.
When one of the masters asked the maiden what her opinions were however, she just shrugged. It would take time to tell weather or not things would stay as peaceful or not.
As the first festival day came to a close, there were far more important things than a pair of young people talking. Such as the nights feast, sleeping arrangements needed to be planned, and how long had those children been wrapped up in the maypole?