[ WP ] We 've seen epic fantasy worlds based on historical Europe ( i.e . LotR ) and historical East Asia ( i.e . Avatar ) . Write about an epic fantasy world based on historical Africa .

First post on this subreddit, but this seems like a really interesting prompt: P 
 
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 It's only when the process is reversed that one can truly appreciate how easy it is to die. A wound left to fester, a cut in the wrong place, or even just a lack of sustenance can grind the intricate system to a distressingly fatal halt. 
 
 Rebirth, on the other hand? Well that's much more tricky - think of trying to thread a near-infinite number of needles at the same time in a very specific pattern, and you'll begin to appreciate just what I was being exposed to. Dirt and dust rose into the air, solidifying into long, thickened bones. Muscle and sinew flickered and hissed into existence, weaving and overlapping themselves, thrashing around like irate snakes before conjoining to their destination with a *squelch*. 
 
 A thin stream of water was introduced through a gap in my chest. It paused in a spot near the middle of my ribs, swelling to the size of a small fist, before branching off in several directions like tree roots. Wherever they spread, they divided further into little rivulets, winding between and into the flesh that lay waiting for them. 
 
 My mind was formed last. Thin, reedy strings knitted their way through my skull and down my back, spreading outwards from my spine like a forest fire. As they worked, I felt my consciousness expanding from what was previously simple strands of thought. Rudimentary flashes of smells and textures introduced themselves to me, emotions ran through my mind and my awareness gradually grew to encompass the world around me. 
 
 It could have taken minutes, or it could have taken hours; hell if I knew. I opened my eyes. 
 
 The blurry outline of a dark-skinned woman knelt over me. Behind her, the sky was obstructed by what looked like thick, criss-crossing planks of bleached wood which supported an equally crude patchwork of leather pelts. Several holes had been torn from it, revealing the inky blackness of the night sky beyond. 
 
 The woman shifted and came into clearer view, my eyes straining with the effort to focus. She wore a feathered ornament of some kind on her head, the rich plumage spreading backwards in an elegant manner. No practical application, of course, but I suppose I could n't blame her for following the modern fashion trends. 
 
 Her weathered and wrinkled face was illuminated by a small fire, fluttering somewhat feebly a few feet on my left. A trail of embers were scattered in the space between, as if someone had kicked the fire in my direction. I looked away as the direct light became too painful for my eyes, instead choosing to examine the area to my right - looking past the patiently waiting woman to do so. A large bowl sat behind her, roughly the same distance away as the fire, and the insides glistened as if it had recently been full. 
 
 Putting two and two together, I looked at the ground I sat on. Sure enough, cracks radiated from the spot I occupied like a spiders web, having shaken loose the earth in my vicinity. I looked up at the woman and opened my mouth to speak. Pain immediately flared up inside my mouth, as if my throat was made of firewood, rubbing forcefully against itself. I doubled up, coughing and reflexively trying to swallow away the burning sensation. 
 
 Nice. The first Obia brought back in over two centuries, and my first act was to splutter like an invalid. Real smooth. 
 
 The woman's head snapped up to look at somebody else. `` Aka, bring it the rest of the water to drink, quickly.'' Her voice was strong and clear, belying her old age. 
 
 A pair of well muscled arms pushed a pitcher of water into my hands and I took it gratefully, swallowing the cool liquid in large gulps. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pain flared up, but it soon dulled down to an ache, and as I drank I eyed my surroundings. Aka turned out to be young warrior of sorts, dressed only in an inappropriately colourful loincloth. He watched nervously as I examined him, noting his strong features and the criss-crossing scars across his body and limbs. Not all of them appeared to be from weaponry. 
 
 The fire and the empty bowl seemed to mark an invisible boundary. Beyond it, a couple of dozen people of all ages and genders were crowded round, watching the proceedings. A small number of scared looking women stood to my left from where I guessed Aka had been standing beyond the flames. One of them was heavily pregnant, turning slightly away from me as if to shield her baby. 
 
 In front of me a man stood proudly, his eyes meeting mine without a flicker of hesitation. His head was adorned with a headdress that boasted even more feathers than the woman besides me. It was quite impressive, actually. I wondered idly how long it had taken to gather them all. More warriors stood either side of him. The one standing just on his right, however, was the one of most interest. His entire left arm was covered in familiarly shaped tattoos. They gave off a slight glow, a pulsing green luminescence that coloured his side, despite the light of the fire. 
 
 Curiously, a pair of young children - brother and sister, perhaps - sat at the back, leaning against the pale structure that kept the fabric of the shelter in place. The older of them possessed a notably blue iris in her right eye. The bright colour burnt my vision as strongly as the firelight had, somehow despite the fact it gave off no light of its own. A delicate wisp of black smoke rose from the eye, and I watched as she blinked, scattering the fragile vapour into the air. The small shaggy-haired boy beside her clutched a leather bound book in his arms, it's cover adorned with markings similar to the tattoos of the green-armed warrior. 
 
 Huh, rune magic. So that's what the kids are playing with these days. 
 
 My attention finally moved on to the bleached frame they leaned against, and I nearly choked on the last of the water in shock. The structure was n't made of criss-crossing wooden planks as I had assumed, it was made of *bone*. A skull. Large enough that three men standing on each other's shoulders could barely touch its crown. 
 
 My thirst satisfied, I handed the empty pitcher back to Aka and looked behind me. The entrance to the shelter was through the semi-preserved mouth of the skull - two fangs, tall as a reasonable adult, helped hold up the pelt tarpaulin over the entry. 
 
 I cleared my throat experimentally, turning back to the woman next to me. No pain flared up this time. Nodding to myself, I spoke to her. 
 
 `` Thank you for bringing me back, Shaman. I presume you did n't do it by accident, and therefore know what I am to offer in return. So, tell me; which tribe am I to eradicate?''
