We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
Region: Lhana Wilds
Nation: Jin Confederation
Ruler: Altan Khan Tumajin
Prominent Race: Hutauri
Strength: 1. Horse Lords: The Hutauri of the Jin Confederation are swift, allowing them to move faster than most armies. (( the army moves faster than normal))
2. The Golden Throne: The throne of the Jin was supposedly made in the highest heaven for the God of wisdom,fairness and honor. The thrones gives the khan heavenly authority over his subjects and wisdom, honor and fairness as it was made for the god of those virtues.
3. The Kerish: The Hutauri have a reputation on being strong and fearsome warriors. ((Cav do better in combat))
Weakness(es): Tribal Loyalties: The tribe of the Jin are more loyal to their tribe than the confederation itself.
The Ezemshil System: Slaves in the Jin Confederation are commonly used for infantry in the army. However, many slaves are poorly trained, have little millitary experiance and mostly used for labor.
Demands of War: The Centaurs are a war-like people. They believe a Khan is weak when he does not go to war, fracturing the already fragile unity of the confederation
Minority Race(s): Braln, The Suun, Makhennet Humans, Magioni
The Hutauri were once human. However, during the Catasylum, the Khan Chajuhla made a plea to the God Hortu to save his wife. However, it came at a price, the whole of the Hutauri were turned into Centaurs. After splitting into tribes, the Hutauri were united by the son of the disposed Jin Emperor, who named himself Khan and introduced many customs of his people to the Hutauri. Since then, the Jin dynasty ruled the Hutauri, initiating the gradual Sinification of the Hutauri.
Region: Okagweti Isles
Nations: The Ebudike Confederation, The Free City of Sidon, The Principality of Ghislii, The Varaanian Empire, The Kobolds
((For Rulers, Races, and Racial Strengths/Weaknesses, see individual Nation Bios))
Linked post will be updated with any added region info
Nation Bio
The Ebudike Confederation is the group of the 7 smaller islands circled in red (Pink is Nunataru, Red is Azugbo, Green is Igwulo, and Yellow is Okobodo)
The Free City of Sidon is the territory on the northern part of Nukwala Island in light blue
The dark blue region on the western side of Nukwala Island marks the Kobold hunting grounds
The light purple region on the southwestern side of Nukwala Island is the Varaanian Empire
The dark yellow region on the southestern side of Nukwala Island is the Principality of Ghislii
Note: All claims (except for the Kobolds) on the jungle are barely backed up. The Ebudike have the most jungle settlements of any civilized faction but the jungles of Nukwala Island should be treated as wild lands where nomads can roam, including those under Kobold control.
((Still working on the history of the Varaanian Empire and Principality of Ghislii))
Ebudike Confederation
Ruler: Emir Nnamdi Ezenwa of Okobodo
Prominent Race: Humans
Strengths: Sea Lords - The Ebudike are skilled sailors, honing their skills in raids and wars with their eastern neighbors. (Stronger navy)
Ebudikan Iron - Their craftsmen have perfected techniques that make their weapons the envy of many armies. These techniques are shrouded in mystery of course, and attempts to recreate them have so far been unsuccessful. (boost to army)
Weaknesses: Horses? In Jungles? Is this the start of a joke? - The Ebudike have no cavalry in their armies or horses to speak of in general.
The Brothers' War - A recent civil war leaves scars that don't easily heal. (minuses to income (some of the money is going towards rebuilding) and political unity (easier to fracture, less likely to work together, etc.), slowly fading over time)
Minority Races: None to speak of (There might be a few members of certain races who came to follow Nneka, but none in large enough numbers to bear mentioning)
Capital: Rotates between Azugbo, Okobodo, Igwulo, and Nunataru (in that order). The capital changes every five years. The current capital is Nunataru (500 AC), the next will be Azugbo (505 AC).
Language: Ebudikan ((Based on Igbo language))
Religion: Nneka Faith
Government: Elective Emirate
Population: 800,000
200,000 in Nunataru (80,000 in the city proper)
160,000 in Okobodo (75,000 in the city proper)
180,000 in Igwulo (60,000 in the city proper)
260,000 in Azugbo (100,000 in the city proper)
History: The Ebudike are the native people of the Okagweti Isles. They are a dark skinned people who worship a warrior goddess by the name of Nneka and who once ruled an empire before the cataclysm. The Okagweti Isles used to just be a border region, considered to dangerous for serious population, with most of the Ebudike living in the rich plains to the north. The savanna on the northern side of the Isles is all that remains of them after the cataclysm with the rest sitting below the ocean, lost to the Ebudike. The cities of Azugbo, Okobodo, Igwulo, Nunataru, and Kakanu (located in the northern savanna of Nukwala). Once minor cities, they were now all that remained. Tensions ran high initially, with each city trying to maneuver for power. This initial period from 0 AC to 83 AC is known as the Warring Cities period. While actual combat rarely broke out, the period was highlighted by constant competition between the cities and economic and diplomatic warfare. During this time, settlers also began arriving on Nukwala Island, near Kakanu, where there was plenty of space. The Ebudike tolerated the settlers, more interested in their political games. Small scale raiding also occurred and there are some records of slaves being taken. What brought the period to a halt was the initiation of the First Settler War (AKA the Sidonian War of Liberation) lasting from 83 AC to 91 AC. The settlers on Nukwala Island wished to take the land themselves and build their own nation. Kakanu, weakened by a recent skirmish with Azugbo, was placed under siege in 83 AC. The response by the other cities was slow and erratic and by the time they organized a response, it was too late. Kakanu fell in 86 AC and their army arrived a few months after. The army, wary of laying siege to a walled city, harassed the settler villages and towns before leaving, ultimately uninterested in saving a fallen rival. Late in 90 AC, the cities caught wind that the settlers had used Kakanu's navy as a base and had begun to build a large armada to take the rest of the cities, assuming they could catch them unawares and conquer the cities with ease. The news galvanized the Ebudike with an emergency council being held between the four cities and them signing a wartime alliance uniting their navies under Commander Ekwueme Okoro in a daring plan to strike the settlers before they could finish their fleet. The settler armada was caught in its port and almost completely destroyed in a decisive victory for the Ebudike. Both sides knew that the Ebudike couldn't fight the settlers on land and the settlers couldn't fight them at sea. This led to deliberations between the two sides and the Treaty of Kakanu (AKA the First Treaty of Sidon). The treaty stated that each side would recognize the other's independence and their sovereignty.
The end of the war led to another council, this time to bring a long term end to the cities infighting. This eventually led to the Documents of the Confederation and the First Confederation of the Ebudike, a formal unification of the four cities and their territories under one Emir chosen by the priests of Nneka. This ushered in the First Confederacy period from 91 AC to 480 AC. Large scale raiding was introduced in the Confederacy's infancy as a source of income for the Ebudike and also as a source of unity, with designated raiding fleets always being a mix of ships from each city. The new government also pushed the Nneka Faith as a unifying force, causing a new wave of fervor and an increasingly religious nation. The first major historical event during this time was the Second Settler War (AKA the War of Defense) from 122 AC to 126 AC. The Ebudike had begun raiding the shipping lanes of Sidon (Kakanu was renamed Sidon after being taken by the settlers) in 119 AC much to the displeasure of the merchant houses of Sidon. In 122 AC, Sidon sent an ultimatum demanding the Confederation to stop. The Ebudike, deciding now was the time to retake Sidon, declared a holy war on the settlers, claiming that their pillaging of Kakanu was an affront to Nneka. Few were fooled by this action, but it gave them the little justification they needed. The war raged for four years, with the Ebudike gaining the upper hand. However, they were unable to capture Sidon and eventually settled for large sums of gold in exchange for promises to stop raiding (promises they only kept for a few years, knowing that Sidon couldn't actually stop them) in the Sidonian Treaty (AKA the Second Treaty of Sidon). In 141 AC, the Confederation was shaken by the assassination of Emir Muonoko Ekwueme of Igwulo, almost leading to civil war after Igwulo accused Nunataru of killing him. In 174 AC, the priesthood created the Army of the Faithful, the militant branch of their faith meant for war against the heathens, they would be used in every war since up except for The Brothers' War. From 211 AC to 289 AC, the Ebudike were involved in a series of skirmishes between the Varaanian Empire collectively known as the Coastal Wars (AKA the Sea Lord Wars). Usually the wars were motivated by Ebudike raiding, with the Varaanians sending out their navy to combat it. Sporadically, the Ebudike would try to seize the western coast with their raiding parties before being driven off by the Varaanian army.
The later days of the First Confederation were marked with issues. Questions about the power of the priests arose and rumors swirled that the Emirs had become the priests' puppets. The priests and the Confederation became an easy scapegoat for the disasters, bad harvests, and diseases that were plaguing the Ebudike with doomsayers saying that they had gone against Nneka's will. Tension began to mount in 479 AC, when three Emirs died within a year, the first due to old age, the second due to illness, and the third under mysterious circumstances, things reached a boiling point. The priests chose Emir Oluchi Ekene of Nunataru causing the court of Azugbo to cry foul and crown their own candidate Emir Ebele Chizoba claiming the priests had become corrupt and planned to soon dispose of the Emirs and rule in their own right. Azugbo raised their army and soon had anti-priest militias flocking to their side. The other cities backed Emir Oluchi and began preparing their armies. The Brothers' War had begun. The first three years were the least bloody, with Azugbo evading conflict against the larger force. That changed when they convinced Okodobo to switch sides and join them, evening the odds. The next seven years was filled with bloodshed and suffering until finally Azugbo and Okodobo won. They reformed the Confederation, weakening the priests and having the next Emir selected by a council of advisers. As a sign of good will they added the idea of rotating capitals every five years rather than the Emir ruling from their city as the First Confederation did. This period starting in 490 AC and continuing to today is known as the Second Confederacy period.
Politics: The Emir is selected by a council of advisers from each of the four cities with each city being represented equally. Once an emir dies, the council convenes and everyone is allowed to name as many candidates as they like. To become Emir, one needs 60% of the votes of the council, so superfluous candidates are usually avoided. Voting is done privately with each candidate getting a set of stones with each stone representing a candidate. A bag is passed around and each adviser slips in their selected stone. Votes are counted and if no one gets 60% of them the voting continues. However, if there are more than two candidates, the candidate who received the fewest votes is dropped (if there is a tie, all candidates in the tie are dropped. In the odd case that doing so would only leave one candidate, the candidates with the fewest votes are voted on and the winner gets to stay while the rest are dropped). And then voting continues with the two last candidates until a consensus is reached and the new Emir is elected. Below the Emir, each city has its own Sheikh who rules over it. The Sheikhs are nobles and the title is hereditary and passed on to the first born child (or the first born's first born or the second born if the first born child is dead). The Sheikhs and their families are natural candidates for Emir although generals, powerful merchants, and respected statesmen have also been elected Emir. All titles can be held by men or women, although this change is recent for the Emir which used to be restricted to males.
Religion: While the history of the Ebudike may give off the idea that they aren't religious, this couldn't be more false. What led to the anti-priest sentiment was a short line in their holy book about the priests being expected to stay out of political matters. Combine that with political leaders who are willing to stir the pot to meet their own ends and get rid of the priests and a run of bad luck that needs a scapegoat and you have the political situation that helped cause the Brothers' War. In actuality, religion dominates Ebudike life and the ceremonies, celebrations, and rituals are closely followed by the Ebudike. Their goddess, Nneka is said to have given birth to the world 5,000 years ago and that all of the races were there since the beginning and even already divided into tribes. Each tribe was assigned a task to do in the world, with the Ebudike being held up as the favored tribe and told that they were to rule. The other tribes soon forgot their tasks and left them to seek their own pleasures leaving the Ebudike to try to war with them to make them listen, but the Ebudike were weak and were soon defeated. The last two Ebudike came to Nneka and begged for her help. She promised them many children and to git them the ability to fight so that they may one day rule again and bring all of her tribes back for Nneka was weak from the birth and could not yet bring down her wrath upon them. She had promised them to send her Chosen, an avatar of war, when it was time for the Ebudike to rule. Many of Nneka's supposed teachings have worked their ways into the martial arts of the Ebudike. Her promise is not clearly translated and the direct translation from Old Ebudike is "and make you iron to strike at your enemies". Most scholars have translated it as "and make you into iron" with "into" commonly being left out in such cases however others have argued that the original translation suggests that Ebudikan Iron was given by Nneka and is thus holy (a common belief held among soldiers who have it). According to the Nneka faith, one should be an ascetic warrior, living with little and focusing on one's martial skill in preparation for the final war. Of course, such an ideal is impractical, so the priests have said that those who with bravery, temperance, charity, piety, diligence, and humility (the supposed main attributes of the ascetic warrior) would be accepted by Nneka into her arms and be reborn once the final war ends.
Culture: WIP
Society: WIP
Free City of Sidon
Ruler: Lord Mayor Skarr Hargsblatt of House Hargsblatt
Prominent Race: None (The Free City is too cosmopolitan for one race to truly dominate)
Strengths: Merchant Kings - No one in the Isles makes money like Sidon does. Some attribute it to their wits and good business sense, others attribute it to frugality and their willingness to sell their own mother. (bonus to income)
Weaknesses: Bureaucracy of Nightmares - The merchant houses are involved in so many side businesses, joint ventures, contracts, feuds, trading deals, and who knows what else that something as simple as repairing a road can soon become a horror show that has half a dozen houses involved. Even the military feels the effects. It can take months to sort through it all. (all orders take longer to complete)
Minority Races: Many (Humans, elves, dwarfs, hobgoblins, jungle trolls, ...)
Capital: Sidon
Language: Sidon Standard, Various Others
Religion: Various
Government: Merchant Republic
Population: 800,000
(450,000 in Sidon, 40,000 in Harton, 290,000 in plain/savanna settlements, 10,000 in jungle settlements)
History: Fleeing the Cataclysm, many settlers took the path down south to the Okagweti Isles and specifically Nukwala Island, some willingly and some perhaps not so much. While the Ebudike contend that they allowed the settlers to live in peace, the history books of Sidon tell it differently. They assert that at least half of the "settlers" were slaves taken in raids by the Ebudike and that those who weren't slaves were harassed and attacked. It is also worth noting that the Sidonian sources paint the Ebudike as fairly united at this point, although this might be propaganda or due to the fact that they are outsiders looking in. These transgressions led the settlers to organize and launch an attack on Kakanu, the Ebudike city on Nukwala Island in the Sidonian War for Liberation. They captured Kakanu and renamed it Sidon after driving out or killing the Ebudike. It was at this point that the Sidonians claim that they were happy to live in peace until an Ebudike fleet destroyed their ships and attacked the city, only barely being held off and forcing them to sign the First Treaty of Sidon. After the war, the Sidonians began to organize. Realizing that trade was the only way to get the money and materials they needed to protect themselves, the Sidonians turned to the few merchants they had to lead them. They made great strides in trading until the War of Defense, which set them back by about a decade of work. They were finally able to rebound however, growing into a powerful trade city. They have mostly managed to avoid wars since. With only a few small trade wars between Ghislii, Varaan, and Harton over the years. This quietness allowed them to prosper until finally they turned their eyes outwards toward the world. Harton was a rival trading town with logging camps all along the eastern side of the island. Sidon decided they were a threat in 476 AC and after 8 years of war (The Harton War), they had succeeded in conquering Harton.
Religion: Religion is less valued in Sidon than in most places on Crypso. While there are temples and churches for all of the religions of the people of Sidon, only the devout go there. There is no official religion and cults and fringe religions are common among the wealthy elite since they are considered stylish.
Culture: No predominant culture exists in Sidon, instead many cultures mix and intermingle along with foreign influence such that one season elvish style clothing and dwarven food is in style and the next everyone is clamoring for Cosmogenean music and Ebudike jewelry.
Society: WIP
Varaanian Empire
Ruler: Emperor Oran Varaniad
Prominent Race: Human
Minority Races: Elves, Dwarfs
Capital: New Varaan
Languages: Varaanian, Vishantian, Gharizian
Religion: Cult of Varan
Government: Hereditary Empire
Population: 250,000 (30,000 in New Varaan, 220,000 spread among the country side)
History: To the rest of the Okagweti Isles, the Varaanian empire was created by a mad old man who thought he was an empire. To the Varaanians, they are an empire with an ancient and rich history. Now what that history is has been lost in the Cataclysm, with little known beyond the fact that the Varaniads were the rulers and their current territory was part of it. The Varaanians are secretive, keeping to themselves while the others squabble and watching and waiting for the right opportunity, only responding when provoked, such as in the Sea Lord Wars. They have decided to retreat inwards for reasons known only to the Emperor.
Religion: The Varaanians engage in ancestor worship and worship of the royal family, giving them offerings and praying to them for help.
Culture: WIP
Society: WIP
Principality of Ghislii
Ruler: Prince Tirigan Limer
Prominent Race: Human
Minority Races: None
Capital: Ghislii
Languages: Ghislian
Religion: The Crones
Government: Princedom
Population: 100,000 (15,000 in Ghislii, 85,000 spread among the countryside)
History: Once a group of warring city states, the Ghislians slowly united under one banner. Three hundred years of infighting turned them into a mere footnote of the post-Cataclysm world. When they finally united, they began opening diplomatic relations with their neighbors. This led to a blooming friendship with Harton and an alliance after Ghislii was attacked by Sidon. The alliance fell apart during the Harton War, when the Sidonians paid the Ghislians off to turn the other way and the prince of the time, Prince Ziusudra the Weak accepted it. Recently the Ghislians have grown in power. Not enough to face Sidon head on, but enough to at least protect their lands and their peoples.
Religion: The Crones are a set of three sister goddesses that the Ghislii worship. Their stories tell of a prophecy that when the sky turns red, the world will be torn in twain.
Culture: WIP
Society: WIP
Kobolds
Ruler: None
Race: Kobolds
Strengths: Jungle Ambush - good at fighting in the jungle
Weaknesses: Not very tough - Kobolds aren't actually that good in a fair fight.
Notes: Mostly here as a threat for the jungle, not really their own faction, so feel free to consider the jungle as wild lands for nomads to claim. Most of their settlements are centered around Nonkemmiri Lake. Might give them a chief or something and have them become a bigger threat later on for IC purposes
Character Bio
Ebudike
Emir Nnamdi Ezenwa of Okobodo
Race: Human
Age: 42
Bio: First official Emir of the Second Confederation and second son of Sheikh Ezenwa Ikenna of Okobodo. He grew up in the Amber Palace of Okobodo with his many siblings, trained by the best Ebudike tutors money could buy. Upon turning 20, he was made the commander of a raiding fleet. In this capacity, he led a string of successful raids on Sidon.
He was 22 when the Brothers' war broke out and his first action in the war was to have the Azugbo men under his command arrested and their ships seized (The fleet was at sea when the war started and only learned about it upon reaching port in Okobodo). He then served in the Confederation Navy as the three cities faced Azugbo, although his days under their command were quiet. When Okobodo turned and joined Azugbo, he was given command if the Okobodo navy, where he earned the nickname Okesimirodum ("Sea Lion") for his bravery and skill in combat. And he was the commander of the combined Okobodo-Azugbo fleet in the decisive naval battle that essentially ended the war, the Battle of the Twin Navies.
The Brothers' war had left him as a changed man. Once a carefree and flamboyant man interested in an opulent lifestyle, he was now world weary, with a long scar up his leg and a dark look in his eyes. He had seen his world torn to bits as neighbors fought neighbors as anti-priest and pro-priest militias clashed. He became a diplomat in the negotiations after the war, just as ferocious in debates as on the sea, but also well mannered and charming. He was key to bringing the two sides together and afterwards became Okobodo's head diplomat to Igwulo where he began initiating charitable efforts to help the city and its people rebuild. When the Emir died in 497 AC, he was one of the first candidates proposed and was always the frontrunner, elected while two other candidates were still under consideration.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Vizier Akachi Nkemdilim - Main adviser to the Emir
Nza - Spymaster to the king. A young woman with a shaven head who enjoys teasing the Emir, much to his annoyance.
Sidon
Lord Mayor Skarr Hargsblatt, Head of House Hargsblatt
Race: Hobgoblin
Age: 84
Bio: Lord Mayor of Sidon for thirty years. Skarr Hargsblatt was the seventh born of a seventh born, in noble society he would have never risen to the top. He would've ended up like his father, Grogg. Now Grogg had the right idea, weasel around and connive, placating others just to lure them in so they could fall in your trap, but he lacked the grace necessary to make such a plan work. Skarr helped bury his father when he was 14, surprised that his old man had made it that long before someone stuck a knife in his back. Skarr combined his father's tactics with his innate cunning and wits to become a master of business. His takeover of House Hargsblatt took two decades of slowly purchasing properties, innocuously obtaining rights of first purchase or promises of purchase, and greasing a few palms at the Lord Mayor's Palace until he was finally able to enact his plan to seize control. He was able to use his contracts to seize or buy up many of the Hargsblatts' key businesses overnight and that combined with a few key Hargsblatts declaring support for him was enough to oust the current head and put him in control.
He then enacted the next stage of his plan, a carefully planned introduction to Sidon's social scene, where most of the politics and diplomacy of the city take place. He was able to rally a set of allies over almost a decade of work that became key in his election to Lord Mayor. Upon becoming Lord Mayor, he took a radical strategy. For almost four hundred years, the main points of Sidonian foreign policy came down to two things. How much do you hate the Ebudike and what's the best way to kill them? Skarr chose to ignore the Ebudike and instead focus on Harton and Ghislii. He was able to break the alliance between the two which paved the way for the Harton War, which granted Sidon control of important lumber resources and made them the undisputed trade leaders on the Isles. Skarr has since begun looking to reform Sidon and bring more powers to the Lord Mayor, with limited success.
Skarr is a reformist, seeking to free Sidon from the old ways and bring it under the strong rule that he believes the city needs. He sees the other houses as unchecked and corrupt and looks to bring them in line under the Lord Mayor. He sees the Blackwalls and those like them as the main threat to Sidon, impeding progress to line their coffers.
The Hargsblatts are a proud house that goes back to the early days of Sidon and the settlers. They are descended from a small tribe of hobgoblins (bigger and smarter goblins) who were wandering what became Nukwala Island just before the Cataclysm. They helped the other settlers and were rewarded for it after the war of liberation. The Hargsblatts became one of the great houses through their shrewd business skills and some intimidation from their jungle troll enforcers. They run many of the banks in the city putting many of the other merchant houses and powerful figures at their whims.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Leopold Blackwall, Head of House Blackwall
Race: Human
Age: 37
Bio: Head of the Blackwalls and current favorite for next Lord Mayor. An arrogant and hot tempered man, although he puts Sidon and his family above making coin (likely because he's already the richest man in Sidon by far). His father, Joseph Blackwall, Head of House Blackwall, was one of the main detractors of the Harton War, especially since it was obvious by then that the Ebudike were weak and divided. His father tried to force war with the Ebudike, steering precious cargo as close to their islands as he could to try and provoke a raiding party to strike them, with the efforts ultimately ending in failure. (In a stroke of irony, his ships would be attacked a couple years after the start of the war by Commander Nnamde Ezenwa). Undeterred, he decided to fake an attack, ordering several unmanned ships to be sunk and for sailors to spread rumors of an Ebudike attack. The efforts failed as Skarr Hargsblatt was able to find inconsistencies in the sailors stories and got them to admit the stories were falsified.
His father's actions stained the reputation of House Blackwall and the Blackwalls were social pariahs for the first time in Sidon. As Leopold grew older, it became clear to him that his father wasn't fit to lead House Blackwall and when Leopold was 23, he ordered the assassination of his father. His father was killed by poisoned wine and as he took control of the Blackwalls, rumors circulated that he was responsible, although no evidence was ever found. With the Blackwalls under his control, he began rebuilding them. While their economic and political influence has resurged and grown under Leopold's leadership, their social influence still lags behind, with them unable to completely shake off Joseph's stain.
Leopold is a conservative or perhaps even a reactionary, wanting to keep Sidon the way it has been for the past four hundred years. He still sees the Ebudike as the main threat and will push for war against them if the opportunity presents itself, although he is more careful than his father.
The Blackwalls are the oldest of the great houses and were merchants before fleeing to Nukwala as settlers. They were one of the main instigators of the war against the Ebudike and as such have gotten along with them much worse than the other houses. They're the old money of Sidon. While the other houses built their way up, the Blackwalls started from the top. They have a hand in everything in Sidon, from criminal activities all the way up to the Lord Mayor's office and nothing escapes their eyes.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Julia - Leopold's wife. A polyglot and student of the occult and magic, both trendy topics in Sidonian social circles.
Stefan - Leopold's brother. He loves fashion and especially loves using his money to buy up his favorite shops.
Alice - Julia's friend. A sister of the head of House Puttkamer. Also into the occult.
Gilliam - An elven guard for the Blackwalls who is part of the contingent that protects the main manor of the estate.
Alyse - Leopold's eldest daughter at the age of 14. She was wounded by the assassin and is currently bedridden by her condition. A headstrong girl who enjoys the quiet and pleasant atmosphere of the family gardens.
Elaeda Farius, Head of House Farius
Race: Elf
Age: 22
Bio: Elaeda is the head of House Farius, only recently taking control of it. She was groomed by her grandfather for the position and when he died the household passed to her. Young and unsure of herself, most of the older members of House Farius think that Sidon will eat her alive and that she will bring ruin to their house. This might be a self-fulfilling prophecy with Elaeda being forced to deal with the other great houses and her detractors in her own house. She is a romantic, preferring to believe in idealistic scenarios and secretly enjoying the ballads and fantasy novels written by the bards and authors of Sidon. However she is also a skilled steward, masterfully moving sums of money back and forth in a way that some believe is witchcraft.
Elaeda's idealism extends to her politics. She doesn't see the Ebudike as a threat, believing that centuries of war can be healed and that their raiding can be stopped through diplomacy. She also believes that reforms are unnecessary and that it's possible for the houses to work together on their own without the help of a leader. How these views will change as she's exposed to the harsh realities of Sidon's merchant class is anyone's guess.
House Farius is the youngest of the great houses, being formed around 220 AC and only reaching prominence in 363 AC when Rhalyf Farius was elected Lord Mayor. Most of their wealth comes from food and alcohol production and they own many of the granaries, vineyards, orchards, and distilleries in Sidon.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Raser Thokrak, Head of House Thokrak
Race: Dwarf
Age: 52
Bio: Raser is head of House Thokrak. He is a fat, good tempered man who is well liked by many, known for his lavish parties and social grace. Under his watch, the Thokraks have enjoyed prosperity that they haven't seen since the 3rd century AC. However, few know the truth of the Thokraks' success. The truth is Raser is inept at business. He was put in charge of a few business ventures and managed to run all of them into the ground, no matter how successful or foolproof the ventures were when he took control. He was kept far away from the business side of things, giving him plenty of time to spend on the social scene, where he wildly succeeded. He was so beloved that people planned their parties around his schedule since a party that could boast him as a guest got an instant boost in interest. He was the center of attention on the social scene and his brothers took notice.
When his father died he expected one of his brothers to take control but was surprised when they came to him and told him that he would in fact be taking the reigns of the family. They explained to him their demands. He would be the public face, winning them support for the contracts and deals that the house needed, but he would give up any rights to control the finances and business side, which would all be run by them. Raser quickly agreed, having no interest in going into business and seeing this as a way to continue the lifestyle he enjoyed.
Raser is a political moderate, taking no official stance between Leopold and Skarr. His opinions and stances seem to change with the seasons, perhaps to suit the whims of his brothers or perhaps to continue to play Leopold and Skarr off of each other or perhaps, as his enemies suggest, because he has no clue about politics.
House Thokrak was founded in 132 AC, rising from the artisan class, they went from owning a few stores where they sold their finely crafted jewelry, pottery, metalworking, weapons, armor, etc. to buying up rival stores and bringing them into the fold. The Thokraks fell on hard times towards the end of the third century, only just now regaining their former glory.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Elise - Business partner to the Thokraks and Head of House Beaucomp.
Varaan Empire
Emperor Oran Varaniad
Race: Human
Age: 67
Bio: Oran is the emperor of the Varaanians, although he has been bedridden for the past three years and advisers have ruled in his stead. Little is known about the enigmatic leader, his 60 year reign has been one of the most secret in an already secretive empire, with few public appearances. Some have theorized that he had died years ago without an heir and the court is trying to hold on to their power while looking for another Varaniad.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
Principality of Ghislii
Prince Tirigan Limer
Race: Human
Age: 44
Bio: Tirigan is the prince of Ghislii. He is a serious and quiet man who has led the Principality for ten years. He has reached out to the Varaanians several times looking for an alliance against Sidon but has been rebuffed each time. He has kept his army on high alert since he took the throne, believing that Sidon will attack at any moment.
((advisers, friends, family members not important enough for a major entry, and more for my sanity))
IC Index
General ICs ((Any IC that takes a larger look at the Isles that transcends the viewpoint of one or a couple of characters))
Nation(s): Flock of Ishtak, Nileshkosh "the enlightened civilization", Bartal Congregation
Ruler(s): The Prophet Ishtak, King Balriln'na and prominent aristocracy, assembly of clergy dedicated to the old religion has great influence and hold many important social positions
Prominent Race: Ahmnish (human beings born with the markings of Ahm's blessings),
Racial Strength(s): Blessings of Ahm; during the cataclysm human cities were abandoned and their populations fled into the disintegrating world, there are many stories of how the divine and magic wielders came to the aid of these forlorn refugees such as those who received the blessings of Ahm (talented magicians/mages/wizards etc)
Homogeneous; relatively isolated in Valahmna they all share the same origins and connection with the Ahmnish fellowship, the language of the Ahmnish is spoken throughout the valley (increased productivity and stability during times of war/reduce risk of civil war)
Weakness(es): Fiend Problems; kobold tribes routinely endanger frontier settlements and trade routes, vampirism outbreaks, undead hordes from time to time
Spiritual Tension; the emergence of Ishtak's reformed sect of the Ahmnish religion is threatening the old hierarchy of nomadic holy men who worship only Ahm and not the so called "myriad avatars" of Ahm as well (social upheaval tends to have a passionate religious energy to it)
Minority Race(s): Aetai (human nomads who worship the ancient gods)
Strength: Beast's Blood - The bestial nature of the Yslings gives them an affinity with the beasts of the world, and the ability to use them in war.
Weakness: Untamed - Fearsome and headstrong, the willful Ysling are restless under leadership, and their loyalties waver often.
4000 Troops
The Ysling are a race of bestial people commonly referred to as Wargs. A violent race, the Ysling are known to vary in appearance from being barely discernible from a beast, to being nearly human. Settling in Ulsa after the Cataclysm, the Ysling wondered the fractured landscape in search of a home. Travelling up the Peligin Mountains, the Ysling struggled to find a place in the world, spawning rivalries with the Dwarves of Idrus, the strongholds of the bestial people were destroyed and they were forced to travel north, finally settling in the far northern tip of the mountain range.
The Ysling are a tribal people who are known as exceptional hunters. They mostly keep to themselves, but their greed for silver, often wrought into their weapons and armour, have compelled them to establish a small village in the Peligins, whose diplomatic purpose is to offer their services in exchange for the precious metal. Otherwise, the Ysling mostly dwell in caves, living in small family clans. The remnants of the Ysling, that once presided over a feared kingdom in the days before the Cataclysm, are fiercely territorial, and do not hesitate to kill any outsider that trespasses within their mountain valley.
((Maps have been added, check it out here. Deadline for the first turn is set for sunday, Feb. 21, 3pm eastern time. I strongly recommend everyone downloads autorealm - a free and small mapping program. Once you have that, I will email you the maps which you may use more easily to plan your moved. Otherwise you're limited to the maps I provide in the appendix.))
It was unbearably hot. The midday sun beat down on Shallan’s back and shoulders as she sweltered in the courtyard, sweat plastering her thin cotton shift against her body as she pumped water into a wooden basin at her feet. The golden collar she wore about her neck chaffed painfully against her skin with every pull of the well’s lever, but Shallan quickened her pace regardless – Byron was in a particularly foul mood today, and she had no desire to take the lashings he was already itching to give.
“Hurry with that water, girl, or it’s the whip for you!” shouted the slave-master from the upstairs window, as if to echo her thoughts. Swearing under her breath, Shallan gripped the basin by the handles and carried it inside as fast she could, her bare fleet slapping against the granite flagstones. When she finally reached the upstairs bathroom Byron’s fat, greasy face was a deep red. Whether such a shade was the result of the heat or rage, Shallan could not tell. She suspected it was both.
“You sure took your sweet time, didn’t you?” he said, his tone clearly angry. Saying nothing, Shallan’s eyes flicked nervously to the whip that hung at his waist as she filled the bath – freshly oiled, it gleamed menacingly at her. Suddenly, the slave-master grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her close to him in a single sudden, violent movement; the empty wooden basin clattered noisily as it hit the floor. The two other slaves in the room both looked away, their faces hard and unsympathetic. They knew better than to get involved.
“Next time you take this long to fetch water, it’ll be thirty lashes for you,” he growled, the stink of his breath mingling with the smell of Shallan’s sweat and fear. She resisted the urge to cry out as his fingers dug sharply into her arm, instead biting her lower lip and staring at her feet. She had learned long ago that silence and submission were often the best responses to such a situation.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway, cutting Byron’s tirade short.
“What is the meaning of all this noise?”
The words were spoked in a voice that was as effortlessly elegant as it was extremely recognizable. Upon hearing it the slave-master immediately released Shallan’s hand and took a step backward, his head hurriedly bowed in deference. Shallan and the others prostrated themselves before the speaker, their heads lowered to the floor in a manner traditional of a slave showing subservience to a superior.
Byron cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Lady Sara. I was simply chastising one of the slaves. Nothing that might trouble you.” The slave-master’s voice, moments ago harsh and abrasive, had immediately adopted a tone of pleasant servility. Despite having heard it so many times before, Shallan was still startled by the transition.
“Is my bath ready, then?” Lady Sara’s sounded tired, though more out of boredom than any actual weariness. Forehead still pressed to the ground, Shallan heard the slave-master lick his lips nervously.
“Not quite, my lady. This slave girl only just brought the water, so it has yet to be properly heated.”
Shallan’s breath caught as all eyes in the room turned to her. She could feel Lady Sara’s gaze boring into her skull, crushing her beneath the weight of her attention. The feeling was akin to that of an insect trapped beneath glass, immobile and powerless – held at the mercy of a far greater being.
“This is the offending slave, I take it?”
The words rang loudly within the confines of the room, or perhaps that was only Shallan’s imagination. Her voice sounded amused rather than outraged, though that could easily be far worse. She had, of course, heard the stories about slaves who personally displeased their masters: some had their tongues removed, while others were whipped until death. Her arms, outstretched before her, began to tremble.
“Yes, my lady, it is. I assure you that she will be punished in a manner befitting her actions. I promise that I shall not tolerate any future lapses in obedience in the slaves under my supervision.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Byron. Please, leave us.”
There was a brief, awkward silence, in which it seemed as if the slave-master had trouble processing what he had just heard. When he spoke again, his tone was confused.
“Pardon, my lady?”
“Leave us, I said,” Lady Sara snapped. “Now.”
Wincing at the rebuke, the slave-master tottered from the room followed shortly after by the two other slaves. Shallan bit her lip harder, almost enough to draw blood. What terrible things did she plan to do to her alone, she wondered.
“Stand, child, and be at ease. I won’t hurt you.”
Blinking back her surprise, Shallan stood slowly on unsteady legs, keeping her eyes downcast. Suddenly, the woman took her by the chin and raised her head so that they were eye to eye.
“My, you are a pretty one,” mused Lady Sara, tilting her head from side to side as if studying her face. At length she released her chin and stepped back, as if to better appraise an item at an auction. It took all Shallan had not to wither beneath her stare – instead she stood rigid and motionless, like a statue.
“Take off your clothes,” Lady Sara said – an order, not a request. Shallan complied immediately, and in seconds she stood naked before her master’s wife save for the slave collar around her neck. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin as the woman’s eyes wandered over every inch of her bare body, silent save for the occasional order to turn around or push out her chest. The process went on for what felt like hours to Shallan, though it must have only been a few minutes.
At length Lady Sara finally spoke, her analysis seemingly complete.
“Yes, I think you will do very nicely,” she said with a bright smile. She was evidently quite pleased with herself. “You see, my son Tristan is turning nineteen at the end of this year, and I want him to have a concubine before he is engaged to marry. One of our own slaves would be ideal, but unfortunately my husband has a habit of buying rather unattractive chattel. You, my dear, are a pleasant exception – and one wasted on such menial tasks as drawing the bath. You shall serve as my son’s concubine from now on, as better befits your qualities – is that clear?”
Shallan nodded mutely that she understood. She felt a cold dread coiling in the pit of her stomach, accompanied by a sharp, painful tightening in her chest. A concubine. She was going to be made a concubine.
Oblivious to her terror at the prospect, Lady Sara continued to speak.
“What is your name, girl?”
“Shallan, mistress,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Shallan, we will be moving you into my son’s quarters tomorrow. You are to be Tristan’s personal property from now on, rather than my husband’s. Do you understand?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“For now, however, I still desire a bath. Heat it for me.”
“I would be glad to, mistress.”
“Oh, and don’t bother getting dressed. A noble concubine can’t wear those cheap rags anyway. You’ll just have to go without until we find you some proper clothes.”
“Yes, mistress.”
As Shallan stoked the embers beneath the tub, steam slowly rising off the water, she contemplated a death by drowning. She had heard somewhere that it was the quickest, most painless method of suicide, and in that sense it was extremely appealing. There were other ways as well, of course – she could throw herself off the manse’s tallest tower and hope the fall killed her, or slit her wrists with a knife taken from the kitchens.
Another possibility came to mind, however. She smothered it reflexively, instinctually, but it resurfaced again only a moment later. In the coming hours it would grow to dominate her entirely, so much so that she could not sleep nor eat without thinking about it. Soon it was the only thing she thought about.
She could escape. She could finally break free from the chains of servitude that had bound her for eight years, take a ship to some faraway land and eke out a modest living as a free woman. In the past freedom had always been a frightening prospect, its allure often eclipsed by her fear of the unknown. But now, facing a life of sexual slavery, its risks seemed to pale in comparison.
Escape or death. Both promised the freedom she desired, but only one would allow her to enjoy it. The choice was a relatively simple one for Shallan to make.
Strengths: Guerrilla Fighters - The Suun possess a keen ability to deploy small numbers of troops to weaken their enemy.
Weakness: Unconventional - The Suun have little experience or desire to fight conventional warfare. If caught in open battle, the Suun are easily defeated.
4000 Troops
Dwelling in the wastes of Lhana since before the Cataclysm, little is known of the mysterious Suun. In centuries past, the Suun were thought to be a myth, a tale of strange men whose flesh was raised from the desert sands. After the cataclysm, the rush of displaced people to settle across shattered Pangea forced the Suun to come out of hiding, and defend their cavernous oasis home beneath the Lhana sands.
In the decades following the cataclysm, the peoples of Druma began to expand out, seeking more lands following an influx of displaced refugees. Striking out west of Truro Bay, the Braln Confederacy began in occupation of the Lhana Wilds, establishing a settlement along the northern coast of Sunder Bay. Seeing their presence as a threat, the Suun attacked the Braln trespassers, and ten years of bloodshed followed.
After several decisive victories early in the war, the Braln were able to lay the foundations for a stronghold in Lhana, named Byron, the Suun forced to retreat to the southern wilds. Realizing Braln superiority in conventional warfare, the Suun opted to use guerrilla tactics, employing their mastery of the sands themselves to fight the Braln. Laying ambush points outside the Berwick, soon they feared to venture out from their walls. Overtime the city grew weak, nearly every effort to resupply the city from Kiltock failed, and the city withered away. In the final year of the war, the Suun were able to lay siege to the city, easily driving the Braln out of Lhana.
Both sides took stock of their losses and came to a peace settlement, agreeing to leave each other in peace. The Suun have been known to gather upon the ruins of Berwick, and barter with foreigners for spices and metals. It is whispered that beneath the sands, where many bones of the dead lie, there is a temple dedicated to the Suun's mysterious gods.
Human in appearence, the Suun have skin brown and golden, rough and grainy as if made of sand, and bright glassy eyes, resembling mirrors. The Suun are known to covet spices, gold, and gems, but for unknown purposes, and can be brought out of seclusion and swayed by these precious items.
Greetings and salutations dear reader. Allow me to congratulate on your first bold step upon embarking out into the world. For too many fear is allowed to rule, casting a blindness over the eyes and a sad impulse to fret away their lives behind the safety of stone walls. Together we share a common principal, an eagerness to cast off these paralyzing shackles and view the world, in all it's beauty, all it's majesty. Like me, fear is of no consequence, and the thrill of the road is something we shall embrace.
The world, dear reader, is yours as it is mine.
In the contents herein you shall find a detailed account of my own ventures, first taken in the year of 500 A.C. As I take quill to parchment it is merely one day after the celestial event many have taken to calling the blood sky, and I do not yet know where my journey shall take me, though I will take the event of the night before as a fortuitous omen to set my mark on the world. Perhaps you are not even a traveler and my words have not met my intended observance. Perhaps you stand over my corpse as I met my end upon the road. Are you a bandit perchance? A fellow wanderer? In any case, a death beneath the open sky with danger embraced is such an end I would welcome, and know I did not die sadly, though my words may be for naught.
Getting back to the topic at hand, assuming I endure the trials to be set before me in my travels, you will find a detailed account of the regions of the Shattered Pangeas, From Pangea Ulsa to Pangea Minos, and the Eletenate Isles to the Okagweti Islands. All under the heavens shall feel the trod of my boots. A life of comfort is not for us, oh no my dear reader, we yearn for adventure and adventure we shall find.
Strength: Nurturing Home - the ala'Viric Elves (Of the Forest) enjoy a special kinship with the wild Viric Forest, their populace thriving within the region
Weakness: Archaic - Following the Cataclysm and exhaustive conflicts with the Cosmogne Union and various Orc and Goblin clans, the ala'Viric Remnant have reverted to a simpler, tribal existence, lacking the resources, and military prowess of centuries past.
10,000 Troops
The elves of the Viric Forest once held a strong and proud kingdom spanning across Cosmogne and lands since flooded by the Fuming Sea. An age long rivalry with the Dwarves of the Peligins kept the Elves in a near constant state of war, in which they thrived. The conflict was in a perpetual stalemate, however, until the human hero Gerhardt Oakfist secured an alliance between Man and Dwarves, adding greater pressure on the Elves.
The ala'Viric's true decline however, occurred during the Cataclysm, when the majority of their kingdom was destroyed by the rushing Fuming Sea. In the centuries that followed, the Elves failed to regain their border regions in the river valleys of the Gant Plains, defeated by the men that settled there. Over time, the Elves reverted to a simpler existence, forming tribal clans, leaving their old monarchy behind.
The Remnant's dominion over the Viric Forest is shaky at best, suffering from frequent skirmishes with goblin and orc clans that infest the forest, yet their dominance is in tact, causing the Dwarves and Men of Cosmogne to fear it's green canopies. In Viric, the Elves hold the very forest as sacred, and fiercely defend every tree, branch and root.
((As we gear up for the first update, orders due on sunday btw, I feel I should clarify a few things and point out some changes.
Firstly, nomad players' stats have changed. Nomadic populations have been drastically reduced to reflect a more realistic representation, as well as the levy pool enlarged to a greater percentage. Check out the new stats here.
Secondly, for those of you looking to dive into the hostilities right away, I should get into war actions in greater detail. Nomadic players, though saddled with a smaller population, are able to mobilize a greater percentage of their population for war and at a much faster rate. Nomads are leaner and faster, often able to strike quickly and fade away before a rival can organize a proper defense. On the other hand, the deaths of the nomadic soldiers have a far greater impact. Whereas landed players have vast resources and large population they can call up to fight, but this takes time. Drawing troops to the battlefield takes resources, and training. Calling up all potential soldiers in a single season is an impossibility for the landed players. Much will depend on the season and general mood of the populace. Thee landed are slow and cumbersome, but incredibly powerful, able to commit countless expendable lives to the battlefield.
Thirdly, I've added a section to Adventurer Stats to give some insight into what kind of influence and investments a player could make depending on their current wealth. If you carry the wealth of a commoner, your success may be limited to minor gains, while as those with the wealth of a king can make a significant impact on the world.
Lastly, I should go over how war orders are determined in the first place. As I stated earlier, it is largely dictated by common sense and what is reasonable. A combatants strengths and weaknesses, the season and terrain in which they're fighting, who has more troops, and who is better equipped, and who has the best overall strategy. All these things will be taken into account when deciding a battle's outcome. Take your time, plan ahead, and prepare for failure.
If you plan to submit an order initiating a war action against another player or NPC, you must submit it to me early. War orders will be handled in mini's in which an opening battle will set the tone for the rest of the campaign, the campaign results to be presented in the main update. Therefore, any war orders must be submitted to me by thursday, Feb 18th, 3pm eastern, where a mini will follow if necessary.))
((I forgot to mention those circled letters represent resource points on the map, that can be raided or seized by armies. Each one represents the resources of the native landed power. Should a player lose a resource point in their region, their demand for said resource increases. S for stone, Ir for iron, M for metals, F for food and L for lumber.))
The Lion of the Broken Pride: Chapter 1 ((Emir Nnamdi Ezenwa))
The Blood Sky Omen
The Rose Palace of Nunataru was abuzz with activity over the cosmic event that had occurred a few days ago. The pink halls were filled with excited whispers about the event and the Royal Stargazer was a local celebrity, constantly being questioned by noblemen and women about the event. The hall that the Emir sat in was mostly unfurnished, with only his throne, a few torches, and some rugs adorning it. The hall was completely new and was combined with new quarters and other necessities to become an unsightly addition to the Rose Palace that was meant to house the Emir and his court. Before the war, the Emir would share the court with the Sheikh of the city they hailed from, but this was ruled to be impossible with the rotating capitals. Only the hall was finished when they arrived, so, for the time being, the Emir and his court live in a series of mansions near the hall, purchased at great expense from Nunataran nobles. All told, it wasn't an ideal set up. The treaty led to many awkward solutions and this was just another one.
It was a cool morning towards the end of the rainy season and Emir Nnamdi Ezenwa was receiving updates from his advisers before the parade of requests, judgments, and decisions. Vizier Akachi Nkemdilim was standing by the Emir's side, updating him on the response to the so-called Blood Sky. The Vizier cleared his throat and sheepishly said, "Many priests have taken the event to signal the coming of Nneka's Chosen and are petitioning us to use our resources to search the land for them."
Nnamdi gave a sigh of annoyance before responding, "Why should I divert money away from rebuilding this land to go looking for someone who we're not even sure is out there? If the priests wish to go run around the isles looking for the Chosen, then let them waste their time. We will not come to the Chosen. When the Chosen is here and ready, they will come bursting through those doors," he thrust a finger towards the great doors of the hall, "and stand before whatever Emir is lucky enough to be here and the Chosen will tell them that it is time for the Final War." Vizier Akachi quickly wrote down some notes, with no interest in continuing the subject, having seen his master's anger first hand. Vizier Akachi informed the Emir that he had no other updates and so Nnamdi sent him away.
Emir Nnamdi was quite tired of hearing about the priest's meddling. They were partially at fault for the Brothers' War and it seemed like they hadn't learned their lesson. This was just another attempt to make the priesthood relevant in political matters. He doubted that the bloody sky was an omen at all. One of the teachings of every martial art of the Ebudike, said to come from Nneka herself was Don't announce your attack. This supposed omen was like a fighter who leaned to the left before he swung from that angle. Predictable and with no element of surprise. Sending such an omen to the other tribes before their doom isn't the Ebudike way, and the Ebudike way is Nneka's way. So no, this was not an omen, but that wouldn't stop the priests from looking in the hopes they could feel important.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much that could directly be done to stop them. Political leaders messing with religion was looked down upon almost as much as priests being involved in politics. He would just have to sit back and try to mitigate anything bad that might come from it. It wasn't a pleasing decision. He'd rather be able to take decisive action, like he did at sea as a commander or like he did at the diplomacy table after war. Unfortunately, the seat of the Emir came with as many chains as it did freedoms. The entire confederation was his domain, but that bound him to certain principles and laws. Unlike in war, his actions were judged immediately by those in power, not weeks after the decisions were made and the results were known. He had gotten away with disobeying orders at sea since it was hard for the politicians to bark at him when he had a victory to show for it. Such luxuries weren't afforded to him anymore, sitting at the center of scrutiny. And so he was forced to sit here and wait, doing what is expected of him even if it brings the country to ruin. When he was crowned, he promised to rebuild this nation. Now, he hoped he wouldn't be remembered as the one who tore it asunder for the second time in a generation.
Adventures in Arborton: Chapter 1 ((Raser Thokrak))
Blood Sports
Raser Thokrak sat under a canopy only a couple of rows away from the arena. He was wearing a red silk long sleeve shirt embroidered with gold and with a cut at the left shoulder revealing the top of his shoulder and much of his forearm, as was the style of the time, over which he wore a black doublet with intricate designs outlined in red. His belt, with a solid gold buckle and carefully inlaid with jewels, pointlessly held up a simple pair of uncomfortably tight black pants, this particular season's fashion that also doubled as self-torture, that were basically a second skin. His black boots were lined on the inside with panther fur and had gold decorations on them. These were, of course, his street clothes. He shuddered at the thought of wearing any of his nice clothes to the arena.
His scabbard sat on the table in front of him and to his side a woman was examining his sword. It was a magnificently crafted thing with the perfect weight and balance and made of Ebudikan Iron. He was allowed to carry it since he was a Merchant General, some ceremonial title Skarr came up with to squeeze the money out of the larger houses since any house with a house guard of more than a hundred people had to buy the title. He remembered when he bought the sword and his brothers threw a fit. They had wanted him to wear a Thokrak weapon crafted by one of the house's master craftsmen to help sell the house's weapons. When Raser refused they insisted that they at least allow him to forge a new hilt with the family sigil on it, to give the appearance that it was one of their blades. They finally relented when Raser pointed out that anyone worth doing business with would notice it immediately and that making people believe they may have access to Ebudikan Iron was far more valuable than basically carrying around an advertisement for their stores.
The woman, Elise Beaucomp, put down the blade and slid it back to him. She was the head of some minor merchant house that had been going big into blacksmithing lately. He was supposed to convince her to let Thokrak blacksmiths make her inventory, the first step in a lengthy plan to purchase her shops from her and turn them into Thokrak shops. "Is it true that House Thokrak is close to securing a source of Ebudikan Iron?" she asked, trying to mask the excitement in her voice. He had to keep himself from laughing. His brothers would be dying of embarrassment now if they could see how right he was. Perhaps ol' Raser did know a thing about business He bet if it was the sword they wanted she would've only given it half a look before giving a bored comment.
He took a quick bite of a peach before answering. "Now, you know I can't answer that. If I told every pretty lady I met my house's trade secrets then I wouldn't be the head of a great house. Just know that if any house would be able to secure a source, it's House Thokrak. But let's not talk business just yet, my lady. The day is young and the weather is agreeable. We've got food and booze and entertainment that elsewhere only kings could hope to experience. And it's been a while since I just shared an afternoon with a sweet young lady such as yourself. There'll be plenty of times between matches to discuss such trivial matters." He sealed the message with a coy smile and a hearty laugh and Elise seemed quite content to stay for a while.
Raser turned his attention to the arena as the first match of the day began. This arena was mostly blood sports, two men going at each other and what not. Some travelers to Sidon wondered why so many would willingly fight in these arenas in a city filled with so much opportunity, and the truth was many weren't here willingly. It was part of Sidon's dark secret, the one that everyone turned a blind eye towards as much as they could. Sidon wasn't free. Sure, there weren't any slaves in Sidon at least not officially. But the blood pits, as arenas like this one were commonly called, were part of a network of forced labor. How people get caught up in it differs. Quite a few are people desperate to leave wherever they are and hear about an offer of free passage to Sidon in exchange for some work when they get there. They arrive at the boat and are asked to sign a contract, written in Sidon Standard and with the crew pretending that they don't speak the local language well. Since most are desperate to leave they sign the contract without reading it, not realizing that it requires them to work until they pay off some ridiculous sum. When they arrive, the captain sells the contract to someone else, usually the blood pits, sometimes to places that need cheap labor, and the seedier captains might sell them to brothels looking for exotic men and women although that practice is almost universally abhorred and the only one that is strictly illegal and heavily clamped down on. Some do slip through the cracks, however. Others that end up in forced labor are debtors with the laws of Sidon allowing someone with sufficient debts to be sent into forced labor. To be sent to the blood pits, one needs to have quite some debt, but there are enough of them involved to make some wonder if that amount needs to be raised. Beyond that, the people forced to work are mostly criminals, with a few odd cases thrown in. Raser never cared much for idea of it all. It made his stomach turn to think about it. He'd have preferred to have gone to a play today but his brothers assured him that Elise had been spotted frequently at such events.
"What did you think of that last match?" Raser snapped back to the present. The sand in the arena was stained red as they dragged away the body of some poor young girl. By the look of her, she wasn't from Sidon, her pale skin would've burned in the heat of the sun by now. One of the worst things about sitting so close to the arena was the smell. Not only was there the general smell of blood and death, the girl had definitely loosed her bowels as well, probably around the same time she died. He could barely stand the sight of her broken and lifeless body and he turned away before he threw up. He turned his attention to the winner standing before the roaring crowd, bleeding from several wounds. It seemed the fighters were fairly equal.
"A-ah, yes. It was quite exciting, wasn't it? Always love an even match, there's a real sense of danger in them. You never know who's going to come away with it." He looked over to check her reaction. She seemed satisfied by his response and was eagerly awaiting the next match. He grabbed some more fruit, stuffing his face with it to help calm his nerves. The matches continued and Raser slowly eased up. The matches became easier to stomach when you let yourself be carried by the crowd and their excitement.
He continued to talk with Elise, slowly pushing the deal and interlacing the casual conversation with mentions of House Thokrak's history and skill. She of course asked about the blood sky, the trendy topic currently, to which he said, "Well, I heard that it was supposed to be a sign of good fortune according to an ancient elven cult that not only predicted the Cataclysm but also predicted that the blood sky would come exactly half a millennium later." Elise nodded, enthralled by his apparent knowledge about it. That was his favorite thing about it. He could say whatever he wanted about the bloody thing and people would think he was some sort of genius, since anyone's guess was as good as anyone else's. The whole thing was quite silly and it was funny to see how many people went to their respective temples in the weeks that followed. He had gone to the temple of Thokin a few days afterwards, but only because he missed Auntie Fikheni and knew that she went there every week to pray, not because of any silly belief that he had to repent.
It was almost night by the time they were signing the deal and the matches were about to end. Elise seemed sad to see Raser go. He smiled as he left, he had enjoyed her company and wouldn't mind continuing to work with her, just so long as their next business meeting could take place somewhere far away from the blood pits. As he left the arena with his guards, he had one of his rare attacks of conscience. He wondered if what was going on back in the blood pits was right. He wondered what he would do about it if it wasn't. Large parts of the city went to the blood pits and while House Thokrak was powerful, the Blackwalls and Hargsblatts would throw a fit at any attempt to shut them down, both involved in the betting that goes on around them and with the Blackwalls owning a few blood pits themselves. Besides, Raser Thokrak, Liberator of the Pits didn't have the right ring to it. Attempting to rid himself of the thoughts, he turned to the guard next to him and shared a lewd joke about two elves and a goblin. The entire contingent of guards laughed as he finished. Yup, that was good old Raser. Just a stupid dwarf who makes people laugh.
Brief:
Emir Nnamdi Ezenwa responds to the Blood Sky and the claims by priests that it is a sign of Nneka's Chosen
Raser closes a business deal at the blood pits
The peace of the forest was a masquerade, an illusion betrayed by the endless struggle of the vile Orcs and Goblins that beset the sanctity of this place with their vile footsteps. Often the calming sounds of wind sweeping the branches above, and the call of insects to their mates, and the trickling of a thousand streams is shattered by the guttural war cry of an Orc. On this night, however, the Elf warrior Seri ala'Vira would enjoy the calm, fleeting though it may be.
Her bare feet moved deftly through the gnarled roots that entangled the forest floor, effortlessly making her way back into view of her hometree, a grace of conies tied to her back. The root dwellers stood little chance against her bow shot, and the honour of the kill was hers. With a nimble jump, she pulled herself up upon the lower branches of hometree, and eased into a comfortable nook, where a large branch met the hefty trunk of the old oak. Unsheathing her dagger, she sliced across the backs of the rabbits one by one, stripping them of their fur and revealing the pink flesh within. Smacking her lips in anticipation of the meal to come, the rabbits were laid out upon the flat of the great branch beneath her. Nothing would go to waste.
As she prepared to ignite a fire below, gathering excess bark and twigs, she suddenly became aware that the calm of the forest had taken a turn. The serenity had turned into dead silence. From bird to beetle, not a noise was made. It was as if the forest itself held it's breath. What outsiders failed to understand was that Viric Herself was a living entity, a great mind connected by a vast network of roots underground, and the ala'Viric were Her children. Viric would warn them of danger, so long as they had the ears to listen.
In a flash, Siri launched herself up the tree, catapulting her body up the tiers of branches with surprising strength and speed. Before long she stood upon the top branches of the great oak, looking out over the dark green canopy that stretched on to the edge of the horizon. To her surprise, she found that another Elf was there before her. It was Cera ala'Seer, the old wise woman that had steered the Elves of the Forest for nigh on a century. The old Elf appeared ageless, as they did, yet her hair was of a smokey grey and her eyes held a deep wisdom created by her long years upon the world.
Joining the seer's gaze to the west, Siri gasped in alarm as she saw the horizon ignite with a great burning flame. "Fire!" She exclaimed.
"Not fire." Replied Cera quietly.
Siri squinted to the horizon, seeing the glow seem to ignite the sky, drawing up like a great curtain of red followed by a blinding flash. A boom of thunder tore through the air and with a deafening screech, the sky tore open, with ribbons of blood red fanning out to cover the night sky. Siri, among the most brave of the ala'Viric, dropped to her stomach, shielding her head with her arms. After the thunder faded to an echo, Siri looked up, ashamed to find Cera unflinching with her eyes still upward.
"What is it?!" Breathed Siri, finding her feet and blinking back tears.
"An omen." Cera replied gravely. "We have been given a sign by the Great Beyond."
"What does it mean, Seer?"
"The heavens are but a window into the Beyond, and a reflection is ever cast to us of the world. As it is in the heavens, so to shall it be upon Crypso." She looked down to stare into at Siri, the crimson red of the sky reflected in her eyes. "As the heavens have bled, so too shall the world."
Siri's resilience faltered, the tears that stung as she held them back into her eyes began to flow, and she sobbed.
The world will bleed.
The ala'Viric believe the Blood Sky to be an ill omen, a sign that impending disasters are bound for the world.
A Man and a Dwarf waited silently in the cold outside the room of Arngrim the Second, High King of the Cosmogenean Union as they waited for the priests to perform the Isg rite upon his deathbed. The secrets of the ritual were kept tightly by the priesthood even when such powerful figures as those who waited were concerned. The younger of the two, the Human broke the silence “What do you make of the Red skies that have been seen of late, Lord Gudrun? Many see it as an omen for dark things to come.”
The elderly Dwarf harrumphed and replied that “Only elves would put their faith in the sky to show the future, youngling. It is merely a natural phenomenon in the heavens that occur from time to time…”
As the Dwarf made to continue the priests of Kar-Isg came through the door to the elder Arngrim’s room, with their leader carrying a small red stone. The leader, a human named Sigismund, the high priest of Kar-Isg pronounced that “He was a great soul who will bring your people much good in the years to come younf Arngrim. With his passing you now are the Duke of Ferre, young man and you the regent of the Union, Old One.”
“Then I shall send the letters to the other lords to meet at Frederick’s tomb,” replied Gudrun with tears stinging his eyes “I fear that other powers shall seek to subvert the power vacuum for their own ends so I will make sure that the spies are particularly wary until the coronation. Lord Arngrim, I request your assistance in this matter.”
“You shall have it,” The youth responded as the priests made to leave the room. “I will not see that which my Grandfather created fall apart.”
“Good lad, make your way to Narseh I will meet you there as soon as I possibly can. There is still work to be done.”
((The Cosmogeneans see the red sky as elfish foolery. The High King of the Cosmogenean Union, Arngrim II dies, his heir as Duke of Ferre, Arngrim VI ascends to that throne. The Lords are required to make their way to Narseh to elect the new High King. The regent increases security in border cities.))
Region: The Viric Forest Nation: The Tribe of Vash’ric Ruler: Gnurl the Restorer Prominent Race: Vash'ric Orcs. Different than the normal orc, the Vash'ric Orc stands in between 5'7 and 6 feet, although they usually slouch, removing a few inches from their height. The average Vash'ric Orc has dark yellow eyes, deformed ears, and dark green to black skin. Racial Strengths:
War Drums - The Orcs of Vash'ric carry a pair of leather drums into battle, as to frighten the enemy and to boost the morale of their troops. (Morale bonus for Vash'ric Orcs, morale malus to side defeing/attacking against Vash'ric Orcs.)
Strong Leader - Gnurl the Restorer, despite his older age, is a masterful warrior and tactician, and a gifted diplomat. He led the Orcs of Vash'ric out of slavery, and into freedom. (While Gnurl is the ruler of the Tribe, NPCs are easier to sway, and the general morale is higher.)
Weaknesses:
Mob Tactics - The Orcs of Vash'ric aren't spectacular fighters, so they implement quantity, rather than quality when fighting. (Malus to battle outcomes, more losses)
Low Increase Rate - The Orcs of Vash'ric does not have a good population of women, so the rate of natural increase is low. (Population grows slowly.)
Minority Races:
Goblins - Allies of the Vash'ric Orcs, the Goblins in the Viric Forest help them in their battles.
Elves - Enemies of the Vash'ric, the Elves of the Viric Forest are the staunchest enemies of the Orcs of Vash'ric, and raid their camps often.
History of the Vash'ric Orcs: The history Orcs of Vash'ric begins with the rise of Azzaut the Defiler, a cruel warlord of the Spine. After his rise to power, Azzaut began to subjugate the local orc tribes, using his wyrms to devastating effect. Not long after, the majority of the orcs of the Spine were under the control of Azzaut. Under the Defiler, the orcs lived a pitiful existence. As children, orc males were stolen from their homes, and raised in brutal conditions, before they were sent off to die for their master. They were beaten, mauled, kicked, bit, anything to break their will, so they could serve Azzaut with undying loyalty. This went on with great effect, for over 200 years. Azzaut's armies were greatly bolstered by the orcs, they were nigh unstoppable. But as is the fate of all good things, they must come to an end. In the year 425 AC, Gnurl, a captain in Azzaut's army, looted his former village. Although he only lived in this village for three years, Gnurl had vivid memories of being ripped away from his mother, and taken to to be beaten and scarred by a demonic warlord. With a newfound anger towards his master, Gnurl began to sow the seeds of revolt. As befitting a captain of Azzaut's armies, Gnurl had a sizable influence among the orcs, and he began to secretly stash weapons and sway soldiers to his side. In 430 AC, Gnurl launched an uprising, leading 225 orcs out of the Defiler's camp after a brutal and costly battle with the Swórn. As Gnurl's band make their escape from the Spine, local tribeswoman took up Gnurl's banner, fearing for their children's, and their own lives. Despite Swórn raiding the fleeing orcs, Gnurl's motley band of orcs just barely managed to make it into the Braln Confederation, and safely out of Azzaut's grasp. When confronted by a rather large contingent of Bralnic soldiers, Gnurl made a show of flight and misery, begin the Bralnic troops to let them pass into Maglia. After handing over any items of wealth that the orcs had, the soldiers escorted Gnurl's band through the Braln Confederation, via the shortest route possible. Within a week, Gnurl's band made it into Maglia, the last end of their journey coming near. Unbeknownst to Gnurl, the Maglians were obsessed with knowledge, and lore. When Gnurl petitioned the lords of Maglia for a ride to Pangea Ulsa, he was swarmed by requests. All of the leading families wanted to record these foreign creatures, but the House Bandini were the ones to score the prize. In exchange for written testimonials, and items of orcish culture, the House Bandini transferred Gnurl's band to Cosmogene. Gnurl, only having a rudimentary grasp on new languages, was forced to get off at the Viric Forest, mostly due to the fact that the Maglians were tired of the stench that Gnurl's band had, and couldn't bear to carry them any further. After the sails of the Maglian ships disappeared, Gnurl set about rebuilding orcish society. Despite Gnurl being the unofficial leader of these orcs, he still had to make his power known, so he declared himself the Chieftain of the Tribe of Vash'ric (the orcish bastardization of Viric), a move contested by no orc. Afterwards, he began to task orcs with different jobs, some were laborers, some were resource collectors, and a select few were shamans, voices of the Gods. The Vash'ric Orcs began to live a nomadic lifestyle in the forest, an existence they have eked out ever since. After the orcs arrival in the Viric Forest, they began to encounter the Elves of the Viric Forest. Although the first confrontations were tense, only until Gnurl accidentally impaled an Elven warrior, something he swore was a 'mistake'. Soon after, the elves sprung a surprise attack upon the Vash'ric settlement of N'rîm, killing around 20 Orcs. Furious at the death of his kinsmen, Gnurl began a rabid path of retaliation, burning a path through the forest. Although his never found the Elves capital, it is predicted that 65 elves were killed by the raging war band. Although hostilities have died down between the two sides, there are still sporadic raids against the other side. The Tribe of Vash'ric is slowly gaining power, and only time can tell whether this fledgling tribe of orcs will grow to forge a kingdom of blood and iron in the Viric Forest.
Classes and Social Structure of the Vash'ric Orcs:
Like most of the world, the peoples of the Far North were thrown into a frenzy by the blood sky. Unlike most others, the Djerik people were overjoyed by such a sign.
In the streets of Kilika, the shamans cried out,
"Rejoice our brethren, for the time of cleansing is upon us. Just as the cataclysm 500 years ago shook the magic tainted to their very core, today we once more see the Will of the World reject the blight of magic and plants."
In the alleys of Geriga, the soothsayers whispered,
"The violation of nature by the machinations of the Verdant Mother has festered for too long. First the earth rebelled against her corruption, and now the sky follows. As the ground erupted, so too do the heavens weep."
In the plazas of Qeuceuni, the hunters roared,
"For too long have the duel evils of magic and foliage cursed the mortal world. For too long have we complacently allowed this to destroy the holy work of the gods. This is their sign! We must go forth and cut down those insidious races that choose to use wicked magic and consume cursed plants."
Even in distant Yusbund, the dockworkers sang,
"Joyous are we, who are blessed to witness signs of such import. Joyous are we, to hear the call of the gods. Joyous are we, those chosen to consume the wicked."
And from the heights of the Divine Palace in Tujikan, Dominator Raphaelus IX proclaimed,
"Let none question the clear and righteous sign that is before us. The blood sky is an omen of death. Of death... and resurrection. The great evils perpetuated by the Verdant mother, and embraced by the soulless races of the south, could not last forever. The first reaction was the cataclysm five hundred years ago. It was the call of the gods, a signal to rid the world of taint. Yet we failed in our duties. We did nothing and the heathens rebuilt. Now a new cataclysm is on the horizon, this time from the heavens themselves. We must not fail again. We must show the gods we are still worthy of their affections. We must earn a place by their sides before we are destroyed with the tainted races. For too long have we, the Macesij peoples, remained isolated and internally divided. We must unify, and we must heed the call of the gods.
Death to heathens! Death to Magic! Death to foliage! Devour the Wicked!"