Description:

The Aqtuquaq Forest (Pronounced: Awk-two-quawk) is part of Tokotna’s largest forest. Bridging the gap between temperate evergreen forest and true boreal forest, the Aqtuquaq stretches across much of the interior of the continent. The Aqtuquaq is marked by its relation to other landmarks in the region instead of a fenced area or calculated square mileage. As such, The Aqtuquaq is generally agreed to contain all woodland south of the Taniya Mountains and north of The Superiors. The only true border the Aqtuquaq Forest has is its southern border. The forested land to the south of The Superiors is known as Black Pine Country and though there is little to distinguish it from the Aqtuquaq at first glance, they are separate and the border, which runs east, perpendicular to the center of The Superiors, is well established and marked by those on either side. The Aqtuquaq extends into the west until the trees give way to the grasslands that eventually reach the Verinant Valley; and in the east, it extends until the trees melt into the tundra-steppe that covers much of the eastern region.

Due to its northern position, the forest is predominantly made up of conifers, though they come from a variety of species. Spruce, fir, larches, and cedars are all common throughout the forest, as are several species of deciduous trees; such as birch, ash, aspens, maples, walnuts, and poplars. The forest floor is covered in the shed needles and leaves of all the trees, as well as anything else that may fall from the canopy above; but beneath it all is a thick layer of moss which grows like a carpet throughout the forest. While the Aqtuquaq is still a predominantly natural environment, it is not as untouched as it might appear at first glance. Logging practices, which saw many hardwoods felled and allowed their places to be taken by faster growing softwoods, has shifted the balance of the forest from its original equilibrium. Where before the loggers’ arrival the land would have had a more equal distribution of deciduous and coniferous trees, now throughout much of the Aqtuquaq there is hardly anything but conifer species. However, this original balance is still seen in what few pockets of old growth forest remain in the Aqtuquaq, mainly in the northern portions, far from the logging camps that once covered the region.

The forest also attracts a wide range of animals, both predators and prey. Pine martens, fishers, snowshoe hares, stoats, and even beavers all call the forest home to varying degrees, as do wolves, black and brown bears, mountain lions, lynx, moose, and deer. Several species of squirrel, innumerable species of birds, and many small amphibians and reptiles round out the Aqtuquaq, making it the perfect representation for the life that can be found across the Tokotnan expanse. The only species that is missing, is the one that Tokotna is most known for. There are no wild tokota packs within the bounds of the Aqtuquaq, and while lone tokotas have been known to sometimes pass through, none have stayed to try and establish a pack within the forest since the TCA has been keeping records. There are several theories as to why this is, but none have ever been found to have enough proof to convince the scientific community, let alone the court of public opinion within the Aqtuquaq today.

The variety and density of trees and animals is what drew humans to the area, with logging and fur trapping making up the forest's main professions for most of its history, and into the present day. As with all places where humans have long inhabited, the Aqtuquaq has been changed by the presence of these activities. Certain species like stoats, beavers, and larches (a fast growing and sturdy species of deciduous conifer, prized for its durable and waterproof timber) were all far more common in the past, but from the efforts of loggers and trappers, they have seen a direct decline in their populations, as have many other species that were once more common within the bounds of the Aqtuquaq in decades past.

While humans have inhabited the Aqtuquaq in permanent or semi-permanent settlements for centuries, even in the present it is not easy. Due to its forested nature, the Aqtuquaq makes for a poor location for large scale farming. Not only because of the uneven nature of the terrain throughout most of the area, but also due in large part to the conifers that cover most of it. What flat land that exists within the Aqtuquaq is more than likely podzol, a soil that more resembles sand or ash than dirt, created by the trees that call the forest home as they pull nutrients from the ground in higher quantities than can be replaced by natural means. For the forest, this causes no problems; but for those looking to grow their own food, this has made it hard for settlements within the Aqtuquaq to survive, even into the present. Today, there is only one town that still remains from all the boomtowns and logging camps that sprung up throughout the forest at the height of the logging efforts several decades ago. Tall Pines, the last settlement, sits near the center of the Aqtuquaq, the connection for all roads through the woods. At the northern edge of the forest, where the trees give way to the tundra-steppe, ranches are a common sight, and alongside great herds of reindeer, highland cows, goats, sheep, and fur covered pigs, roam and graze.

Landmarks:

• Tall Pines: It is said that the town earned its name from cartographers’ notes made on the earliest maps of Tokotna which marked the area with one simple but descriptive note: Tall Pines. The forested region this note marked led to many boomtowns, all focused on harvesting the trees; the most prized of which were trees like the redwoods that grew along the southern coast. In the earliest days of the boom, it could take two-men teams working twelve-hour shifts, the better part of a week to cut down just one. Tall Pines resides in the shadows of two of these great trees, known locally as The Sentinels. Relics of a bygone era, they are all that’s left of the original boomtown that once stood there. The trees are the only ones that weren’t felled, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Even into the present day, the rusted remains of the two-man saw that was used remains lodged in the thick bark of the Eastern Sentinel which stands near the town’s entrance and welcome sign. The stump of the Third Sentinel stands in a clearing a short walk from town where gatherings and festivals are held. It was the last of the ancient trees to be felled by the loggers of Tall Pines, and stands as a reminder of the town’s, and the Aqtuquaq’s past as a whole.
  
  Tall Pines is a hub for trade and travel through the forest, though seeing it, that fact is somewhat hard to believe. The town is the center of all logging roads that move people and supplies through the forest and beyond. And while this is all true, the town is a source of not much else, especially in terms of the comforts of home. Tall Pines is still not much more than a dirt road wide enough for two oxcarts to comfortably pass one another, with shops and homes built on either side of it; the epitome of a frontier town even though the time of the frontier is long since passed. The buildings are old and weather-worn, their timbers desaturated with age. Anywhere people or tokotas don’t commonly tread is covered in moss and lichen the same as the forest that surrounds it. Like its people, the town is humble and hardy; with a resistance to change and modernization. Anyone who works in either of the forest’s main industries either lives in town or is there often enough to buy and sell what goods they can. As the town grew out of one of the logging camps, it has a fairly diverse population; a combination of indigenous peoples as well as those who came looking for work in the Aqtuquaq. Since its founding, a little less than a century ago, the population has seen small but consistent growth.
  
  In the last thirty years a post office was established for the town, giving it a new direct line to Tyonek, the closest large city, though it is still a long and tiring journey even in fair weather. There was a train that used to run from the coastal city to Tall Pines, but the train hasn’t run for the better part of sixty years. The rails were built to first make a stop in Dillinger, the major settlement in Black Pine Country some forty miles south, but when the mines the town was known for dried up, Tyonek no longer saw a reason to continue running trains into the interior. Tall Pines was more than accepting of this isolation however, as the relationship that was once had between the loggers of the Aqtuquaq and the miners of Black Pine Country had soured at around the same time the mines dried up. The citizens of Tall Pines also found little use for a train that travelled through a territory so antagonistic to tokotas as their southern neighbor, so in the decades since, the rails have fallen into disrepair, and gone unused.



• Heart Trees: These trees grow on a scale that is truly unfathomable. Thicker of trunk, and taller of crown than even the redwoods that were once more common in the Aqtuquaq; these ancient trees are few and far between. Scientists believe that they are related to the sequoia and redwoods that grow more commonly in the temperate rainforests along the southern coast at present, but they have only been allowed to study a select few of the specimens within the Aqtuquaq, and they have yet to be found growing anywhere else in Tokotna or the continents beyond.
  
  Native legends say the trees are a sign of a forest’s health, and that long ago before the arrival of humans to Tokotna, they grew as plentiful as pines across the land. Whether this is true, there are few of these gargantuan trees left, but scientists wonder if there was ever actually more of them growing as they seem to live for several centuries. Wherever they grow, forests seem more fertile and prosperous; and while legends say this is the trees doing, science claims that the trees are more of a sign of soil fertility than a cause of it. What science has yet to fully understand is what makes these trees unlike their smaller relatives; and unlike any other living tree.
  
  They seem to share a connection, not unlike mycelium networks that connect fungi and smaller trees, but on a scale never before seen. It appears as if the entire Aqtuquaq is part of one large connection between these trees. Scientists have begun to wonder if their seemingly sporadic placement may be more purposeful than it might at first appear. And while these trees hold secrets that might explain any number of science’s greatest questions, researchers have to be careful as these trees are not only research subjects; but also, integral elements to the faith and cultural practices of native groups in and around the Aqtuquaq.
  
  As efforts to rejuvenate and better understand the Aqtuquaq in the decades since the logging boom have seen more success, more Heart Trees have been recorded as well. This has come not only as a surprise to scientists, but also the inhabitants of Tall Pines, as there are some that claim these trees weren’t there half a century before. Though as scientists only have data from more recent decades, these claims go unsubstantiated by the scientific community at large.



• Altars to the Forest Mother: Altars to Aga are common throughout the forest. Most often these humble and rustic altars are carved into the trunks of trees or built on the stumps of ones that have long since fallen and rotted away. Worship of Aga has long been practiced in the Aqtuquaq, but these altars only began appearing with the arrival of the trappers and loggers during the boom a century and a half ago. This was done to give workers a place to make offerings before they began work each day. This ritual began from local indigenous peoples that believed killing anything within the forest, whether it be trees or animals, without first making an offering or asking permission from the Forest Mother brought bad luck to the endeavor. It is said that this bad luck is not just carried by the bad actor, but by all who enter the forest until the proper offering has been made.



• Southern Border Line: As it is only the northern portion of Tokotna’s largest forest, the Aqtuquaq has borders that are not always easy to distinguish, which is true for all except its southern border, the one it shares with the Black Pine Country. In decades past this border was as hard to distinguish as all the others that mark the bounds of the Aqtuquaq, but as tensions in Black Pine flared against the wild tokota pack that once called the forest home, similar tensions spread between the populations of Dillinger and Tall Pines. Today there is little goodwill between the two communities and the border that was once fluid has come into strict scrutiny by both populations.
  
  It was decided, through tense negotiations, that a border fence would not be constructed on the border shared by the Aqtuquaq and Black Pine Country; though there were people on both sides that requested one at times in the past. It was said that a fence, while making a more defined border between the disagreeing communities, would impede the free movement of the wildlife that had existed in the forest long before the borders between Black Pine Country and the Aqtuquaq Forest had even been established. This agreement was established a generation ago, and while it is still contentious, especially among the elders of both communities, it stands to the present day.
  
  Because of Black Pine’s open contempt and disdain for tokotas, wild or otherwise, the border is well marked and maintained. In the last ten years the people of Tall Pines have started clear cutting the forest on their side of the border in hopes of making the transition to Black Pine Country more apparent; but given the length of the border much of it is still as wild as it ever was. In the places where the clearing has yet to occur, the trees are covered in warning signs and colorful pieces of cloth that act as flags. The trees have also been marked by the claws of tamed tokotas from Tall Pines in hopes that it will deter wild tokotas as well as inform handlers and their domesticated companions of the dangers in the area even if they don’t know the local history.



• Dreaming Waters:This mountain lake is located in the northern portion of the forest, though there is more to it than meets the eye. The water is cold, and incredibly clear year-round. And though it is especially cold in the winter, it never fully freezes. The water is as close to pure as you’re likely to find in the forest. It comes straight from melting snow in the Taniya’s by way of several streams, all of which pour into the lake from above. The lake is nestled into a particularly rocky part of the Aqtuquaq, and the freezing water forms multiple waterfalls where it careens several feet before combining with the surface of the still waters, leaving fewer ripples on the lakes surface than would be expected for a fall of its height.
  
  At night, when the wind is slow, the surface is so still that when the sky is clear, the night sky above reflects on the surface so clear it appears as if the stars are glistening from beneath the water’s surface. If one is to look into the lake during these nights, it’s said that you see straight into the realm of dreams-- and, that if you aren't careful, you won't be able to find your way out again. Lost either in a world of shifting thoughts and memories, or beneath the surface of the freezing water.

Lore:

For as long as there have been humans in the Aqtuquaq, spirits have walked the moss-covered ground beside them. This has long been held as fact by the native populations, but when loggers arrived during the boom a century and a half ago, sightings of a spirit unknown in the myths and legends of the indigenous people became more and more common. At first, they were called by many names. A collection of all the stories carried by the foreign people that flocked to the Aqtuquaq looking for work in the logging boom. But today, they are commonly referred to as Gardeners.

Unlike the many spirits that walk the land of Tokotna, these spirits do not seem to take the form of tokotas, or any of the other animals that call the land home. And while every sighting adds some unique element to their visage, there are some that seem to be shared by all; namely two arms, two legs, and two large forward facing eyes. These descriptors have led many to call these spirits men, but that is where the similarities to humans, superficial as they are, end. Sightings over the decades have painted quite the picture of these enigmatic spirits and have left some wondering if they aren’t just the ramblings of hungover and overworked lumberjacks. Some claim they can be as tall as an akota, while others have said they can be small enough to ride the shortest toki without issue. There have been claims that their skin is as rough and mottled as bark, while others say they are in fact covered in leaves and pine needles; and yet others claim that they are actually covered in fur that is so saturated with moss and lichen that it only appears more fantastical than it really is.

As hotly contested as their appearances have been, their origins and intents have been no easier to discern. Explanations within native communities have ranged from them being neutral nature spirits intent on healing the forest, to them being vengeful spirits intent on wreaking havoc on those that had cut down the ancient trees. And the loggers, a superstitious class due to the inherent danger of their work, also had ideas on the origin of these odd spirits. They saw the Gardeners as the souls of dead lumberjacks; lost and forced to wander a forest far from home, trapped and unable to find peace. Today, the idea that has garnered the most support is one that found a common ground between all the earlier explanations. Many believe that the Gardeners are neutral forest spirits that once inhabited the trees, and who now wander the Aqtuquaq as they please, no longer stuck in the tree they once called home.

In hopes of not incurring the wrath of these spirits, loggers began to knock on the trees they intended to cut down as if they were the doors to homes. Some swore to only cut down trees they knocked on early in the morning, while some gave trees a full day before felling them. During the logging boom, rumors spread through camps that by spending the morning knocking on the trees they intended to cut, lumberjacks found their axes and saws stayed sharper for longer, and that the crews saw fewer mishaps than those that didn’t. In hindsight, the reasons for these better results have more obvious solutions than thankful spirits. Historians say that the crews who took the time to knock, also tended to take more time to eat a full meal and hydrate, and in some cases sober up, before they began their workday, and that those changes to their workflow probably did more for workers safety than knocking on trees ever could. True as that may be however, even in the present, many who travel into the forest with the intent to fell a tree still give it a knock before they ever swing an axe.

In all the decades since the first sightings of these spirits, there are very few that record close encounters with them; and that seems to be the way the spirits want it. While there have been many disagreements on their appearance and their purpose or origins, one thing has always been agreed upon by the people of the Aqtuquaq when it came to these spirits; that to try and follow or chase them, or in any way trap them, could only ever lead to negative consequences. Most who do only end up lost; which can at times be dangerous all on its own. But some who have followed what they believed to be a Gardener say they were led into the dens of predators, or into rugged areas of the forest where cracks and crevices in the ground could swallow a person whole.

While some will never fully trust something as otherworldly and reclusive as the Gardeners, most people that make their home in the Aqtuquaq, either in Tall Pines or on a ranch or homestead outside the town claim the spirits make for fine, if not slightly odd neighbors; so long as they are treated like fellow citizens of the forest and not as pests or beasts. Because of this, and their seemingly aloof but mischievous nature, a wide array of small kindnesses, and just as many small inconveniences are said to be the doing of the Gardeners. Things like better and more restful sleep, and clothes that had been left on a line to dry being found folded when they were ready to come in; to chickens not laying, milk souring, even knitting and weaving being undone overnight, are all things that the folks of Tall Pines say fall within the spirit’s capabilities should they wish to make their feelings, good or bad, known.

Of course, in modern times these sightings have grown fewer and farther between; and for those outside the Aqtuquaq, the Gardeners and the stories surrounding them seem closer to the superstitions surrounding mirrors or ladders than true spirit encounters. And for every description or sighting that the people of Tall Pines claim, there are explanations from scientists and representatives from the TCA that point to less fantastical sources. Everything from bears and owls, even porcupines, have been put forward as the true culprits of the Gardener sightings, but that doesn’t seem to sway those that claim to have spotted one of these seldom seen spirits one bit; and in Tall Pines they still have a place in the hearts and spiritual practices of many.

Praying or meditating beside a heart tree has left some claiming to have heard a gentle thrumming behind the other common forest sounds, not unlike the beating of a ceremonial drum, or a heart. This, and the tree’s believed connection to a forest’s health, have given them their name. Scientists have yet to confirm if the beating sound heard is something that can be recorded, or if it is an auditory hallucination experienced only by the most faithful or superstitious. This in connection with the recent discovery of the organic connections the trees maintain across long distances has only added to the mystery of these monumental trees in the eyes of science, and deepened the spiritual importance they have in the native communities of the Aqtuquaq.

Black Pine Country and the Aqtuquaq Forest have a very tense relationship now, but that was not always the case. When both communities were still young, before the peak of their prosperities, they had a very beneficial relationship. For a time, it was said that Tall Pines and Dillinger were sister cities. The miners needed sturdy wood for the braces in their mines, and the loggers were always in need of metals, whether it was gold, or iron and steel. The tensions began when the people of Dillinger began their extermination of the wild tokota pack that had long called the area home.

The tokotas made the development and use of the mines dangerous, so much so that progress halted for fear of workers’ safety. Fearing for their livelihoods, and in the defense of their community, the miners killed the tokotas. When word of this reached Tall Pines, it was met with disgust. Killing tokotas was seen as barbaric and as close to sacrilegious as any act could be in a land that saw all life as an extension of Aippaq, tokotas most of all. Because of this, trade from Tall Pines slowed and eventually stopped all together. What aid they could have provided for their neighbors that were struggling as their economy crumbled, they kept for themselves.

The people of Dillinger saw this as a slap in the face. They viewed the people of Tall Pines as hypocrites who had no problem accepting the riches the mines provided when it was the people of Black Pines Country being hurt or killed, but when they defended themselves against vicious and wild animals as dangerous as wild tokotas, it was a step too far for their neighbor. When the leader of Black Pine Country and the mining operation there in, Andrew Dillinger, was killed by the last wild tokota in the forest, Tall Pines offered little in aid or sympathies. And when the tokota was killed weeks later, communication between the two settlements ceased for several years.

The two communities have never forgiven each other for the actions that occurred and the words that were said in those days, and the resentment between them bleeds into their interactions into the present day. There isn’t outright violence, things have simmered more to apathy than animosity, but every few years a new incident occurs where tokotas get too close to or cross the border the two communities share and receive the welcome the people of Dillinger think befits them and tensions flare up once again.

Though no one is sure when it began, it has long been held as fact in the Aqtuquaq that fireflies are servants of the Forest Mother, Aga. As her servants, the fireflies collect the news and goings-on of all the forest’s inhabitants and report back to her each morning. And whether it is true, or if it came from the warnings of exasperated and overburdened parents trying to keep unruly children behaved during the long summer evenings is anyone’s guess. The knowledge that Aga is watching is usually enough to make any child think twice before misbehaving, but for many adults it is something that sticks with them as well, whether they care to admit it or not. As such the arrival of fireflies each year in the Aqtuquaq is seen as the unofficial herald for summer, and Aga’s return to the forest after the long months of winter and spring.

Along with the other holidays that are celebrated across Tokotna, there are two festivals that are only celebrated in the town of Tall Pines, and across the Aqtuquaq. Twice a year, celebrations are held in the clearing north of town where the stump of the Third Sentinel rests honoring the Solstices, when the hours of daylight are at their longest in summer, and when they are at their shortest in winter. The stump acts as a wide stage and in the middle a pole is stood so streamers and flags can be hung between it and the trees around the space. In many ways it is similar to the maypoles some of the earliest loggers knew in the traditions of their homelands, but in a place as diverse as Tall Pines, many cultural practices had been combined creating something entirely unique.

The summer solstice is known as the Day of the Everlasting Sun, and the Festival of the Night is celebrated. This festival is held during the shortest night of the year, when there is only eight hours of darkness. The winter solstice is known as the Day of the Everpresent Moon, and the Festival of the Light is celebrated. This festival is held during the shortest day of the year, when there is only eight hours of daylight. During these festivals it is a time for the community to gather and share in what they have, whether it be the wide prosperity of the land in the summer, or in the company of friends and loved ones in the winter. It is a time to establish or reestablish bonds that are needed to thrive in a harsh land, especially in the bitter and isolating period of deep winter. The celebrations are a time to give thanks with good food and better company; and prayers and offerings are made to the many spirits that watch over the Aqtuquaq and Tokotna beyond.

During both festivals special care is given to the offerings and prayers said to Aga and Sikrinerk, asking for their love and protection in the coming months, and thanking them for what they have given in the months past. These festivals are also a time for the townsfolk and all others to make amends with any neutral spirits they have trespassed against in the previous months; natural offerings seem to please these neutral spirits best. Things like saucers of milk, or honey, or pieces of scrimshaw, or the crafting and hanging of a wind chime are said to be the best ways to ask for forgiveness and make the promise to better respect the neutral spirits in the months to come.

But the people of Tall Pines, and all those who call the Aqtuquaq home, know that they must tread carefully as they praise spirits, as there are some who will feel left out; and just like with people, there are some you don’t want to get on the bad side of. In a place as remote as the Aqtuquaq, the added hardships an angry spirit can provide can mean the difference between life and death. As such, even though there is little love for the dark spirits of the land in the forest, they too are a part of these celebrations. Even during the Festival of the Night, when the days are warm and long, the celebrations serve more of a purpose than just being a time of jubilation. Prayers and offerings are made to Meelanik and Borga in hopes of earning their favor in the months to come, and to thank them for their leniency in the months past. And though these prayers often fall on less than appreciative ears, they are made all the same because for all who call the Aqtuquaq home, the importance of balance is well known. Even if it at times requires compromises that please no one, and the acceptance of odd, and at times unpleasant bedfellows.

Original location inspiration by ciarwitch and The-Nerd01
Location art by USERNAME