Yar

I a member of a primeval tribe that progresses from its base roots in tribal living to the medieval age level of civilization and technology.

Their are two factions in this tribe. One is the founding faction, and the other, a separate group that slowly splits away from the original in both their physical appearance and culture.

Their was much war over the centuries, slowly escalating in scale and violence, many causalities lost on both sides. Eventually, it comes down to a final epic battle in the medieval age.

Our side occupies a Castle that the other side is trying to attack. The leader of our faction screams to the enemy forces, "...and if you keep fighting we'll decapitate your leader that we've captured and catapult his head over the walls to you!"

They yelled back defiantly, "No, we'll save him, capture you and send your heads flying back!"

Diplomacy having failed, we prepare for battle. I'm a high Priest, holy warrior serving in the army. I wear a special 'Epod' vest and wave a holy scepter around with magical incense. Perhaps I was blessing the army and cursing the enemies?

Our troops are readying all their arrows, catapults and machines of war while the leader is shouting out orders.

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Dream fragments from earler:

A lake and a River. Driving a car escaping...
In a city...