[color=8dc73f]Seventy years ago DSMC-LXVI-Γ was just another mineral world offering up its bounty to the new frontier, an inhospitable red jewel to be cracked open and discarded. To some it remains so, if not infinitely less obliging. During that bygone ore-rush prospectors unearthed more than metal with their satellite mines and drop shafts, drawing previously unknown lifeforms to the surface. While academics still argue about proper taxonomy their extinction was of considerable relief to the universe at large. 
 
Colloquially this 'mindflesh' surged up to ravage not only the surface but damage or destroy trade lanes and orbital installation through anomalous means. Crews were boiled alive, stations peeled themselves apart and long range bombardment proved all but useless in combating them. During the twenty seven days that would come to be known as the month of tears mankind was forced to confront hostile alien life with undocumented extranoematic capabilities. Their response was to build a better bomb.  
 
Through trial, error and costly frontline experimentation an alloy not merely resistant but directly hostile to these energy fields was created, dubbed 'delirite' for what were mostly thematic reasons. After a few successful salvos the menace was obliterated, operations could resume and the few surviving pockets of marooned workers could be rescued, or so it was assumed. Long range scans confirmed a sort of fallout from the attack, ambient extranoematic radiation that they had no cost-effective means of dispersing. From the boardroom of an adventurecapital cruiser it was decided that the only course of action would be to wait it out, auction off parcels of land before anyone knew they were worthless then buy them back at a later date and return for stranded assets. 
 
But those, those are the affairs of foreigners and this planet is no longer their own. It was your forefathers that survived, their bones that feed the soil and your sweat and blood that stains it. life is, was and will remain a short struggle here on Eslau, but each generation gains ground and lives fuller. You are a people of marsh tribes and tarlanders, bogfolk and tunnel nomads, inheritors of a harsh land and its secrets. You are Eslausians and this is your story.[/color] 
 
This RP could best be seen as a tale of New new-world expansion as told by the indigenous peoples rather than its explorers, though set on an interstellar stage rather than intercontinental. What little technology you have (Which can only be maintained, not replaced or reproduced) is seventy years behind the curve; and stands out like a sore thumb amid the rediscovered pre-industrial lifestyle. But that isn't to say you aren't without certain advantages over those with designs for your world. Like all life that remains and thrives here you've adapted to the abundance of extranoematic energy and exhibit certain gifts because of it, those that hone this skill are known as Cognoscenti--but we'll discuss them later. 
 
Playing a native demands a certain familiarity with their circumstances, which isn't nearly as bothersome as it sounds.  
 
[hider=Elausian Primer]
[color=8dc73f]* [b][color=f7941d]First and foremost you are the descendants of surviving workmen and engineers[/color][/b] (security was automated and administration was based off-world) so you've got some hardy, quick-witted stock behind you. These progenitors lived at most fourteen years after the incident due to disease, cell damage and mutation, leaving a young and ill prepared populace to fend for themselves. Not all of them survived to adulthood and it's only thanks to rampant teenage pregnancy that the bulk of the next generation endured. They'd lived shorter lives than their parents but managed to do so for longer on the planet itself, averaging a good twenty to twenty five years each. This trend continued, with nature weeding out those most susceptible to the ill effects of damaging EN radiation. At this point most third generation Eslausians are in the winter of their lives, expected to go out at the ripe old age of thirty or so, with the newest crop of men and women being stronger than ever. 
 
So very Darwinian in the respect that off-worlders need to wear special suits and dose themselves with medication to avoid becoming ill, whereas you've culled that particular weakness from the gene pool to some extent. 
 
* [color=f7941d][b]Life is hard and you're expected to be useful. Kids don't get childhoods, they get chores, apprenticeships and professions.[/b][/color] The most important thing about you is what you can do and how well you do it. There's no safety blanket in place to catch the feeble, infirmed or unproductive--those that don't do wither and die. In most regions there's less an upper class than large, respected families that grow larger still as outsiders vie for entry. Wealth and status are far more evenly distributed than amongst the foreigners, which in itself becomes a source of friction. 
 
* [b][color=f7941d]Lifelong exposure to EN radiation has bestowed upon you certain anomalous properties. Most glaringly all communication is non-verbal.[/color][/b] More akin to everyone around you being exceedingly empathic than individuals speaking telepathically. To this end all those within a certain radius of each other are cued in to whatever emotions and desires are flying about (Though not specific thoughts), the language itself concerned with focusing, filtering and interpreting these broadcasted feelings. As a result it's very hard to deceive someone, and alexithymia and other personality disorders render one effectively mute. Body language and vocalization are usually reserved for adding physical emphasis to one's tuning--like how one might exaggerate tone or curse in conversation.  
 
As this means everyone is 'talking' all the time the best way to keep something secret is not to dwell on it--a skill that takes practice--and most relationships are pretty straight forward. Stealth is also a tricky proposition, the sole domain of social lepers known as "silent ones" 
 
* [b][color=f7941d]As a secondary side-effect the world (Not just yourselves) is plagued by mutations--and to be perfectly clear these are not the beneficial comic book variety.[/color][/b] (With an exception to be covered in depth) Some are inborn and others accumulate with age and exposure, which are by and large greebily and benign. Skin discoloration, patchy or excess body hair, over-grown or malformed bones or tissue. etc. If your character could score a modeling contract take them back to the drawing board, essentially. While there's no need to go full 'the elephant man' (you're welcome to) they need be unsightly/conspicuous enough to face discrimination if they lived in the real world. 
 
* [b][color=f7941d]Remnant technology is poorly understood and anything you're likely to find on world will be in various states of disrepair if functioning at all.[/color][/b] Feel free to weigh how useful a gun you can't reload, vehicle you can't refuel or gizmo you don't understand may be before including it in a CS or picking it up mid-story. Without the appropriate backgrounds expect to make the wrong guess (Seeing a rifle as a club or not understanding grenades, for instance.) [/color]
 [/hider]
That out of the way it's time we discuss the different tribes and geography 

[hider=The Planet] 
[color=8dc73f][color=f7941d][b]Eslau[/b][/color] is very very wet and very very humid thanks to an extensive system of geysers and network of marine volcanoes, this seismic activity in turn makes its cave systems both plentiful and unstable. The superheated steam these ubiquitous geysers constantly eject falls back down as mist, rain or is absorbed into the atmosphere, leading to perpetual cloud fronts and endless downpours. With little sun most of the abundant plant life is either myco-heterotrophic, carnivorous or directly parasitic, meaning very little of it is a familiar green. Swamps, bogs, fungal forests, and marshlands dominate the waterlogged horizon, broken up by the occasional land reef or tar flat whilst muskegs rather than tundra mark the planet's poles. Seas are inhospitable cauldrons of scalding water steeped in ominous brume and what life roils beneath them best left to do so in peace; all variety of sailor considered to be maniacs by their landborne peers. Travel is done on foot or in saddle unless you're lucky enough to be ferried to and fro by air. More conventional forms of transport exist, as the occasional skeleton studded wreck reminds. Settlements and cities are far and few, with nothing resembling a country or unified government in place. Most are primitive homesteads built up and out of pre-existing structures in a way that offends aesthetics. Much of the flora and fauna exhibit anomalous attributes as well, having likewise been exposed to seventy years of fallout. Gravity is slightly less pronounced on Eslau, but not by any meaningful degree. [/color]
 [/hider]
[hider= The People]


[color=8dc73f][b][color=f7941d]A family[/color][/b] is a group of people related by blood or marriage all settled in the same general area. [b][color=f7941d]A tribe[/color][/b] consists of all families occupying a particular region. [/color] 

[color=8dc73f][u][b][color=f7941d]Marsh Tribes -[/color][/b][/u] The marsh tribes enjoy a relatively higher standard of living then most of their neighbors, due to the nutrient-rich wetlands that support them, and while it doesn't so much resemble typical farming there's plenty to cultivate. Supplementing their diet with meat from hunting and livestock--being one of the few locales able to sustain domestic herds--their more sedentary than most. Insects and disease are a fact of marsh life, as is the threat of rustling, poachers and summer raids. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Bogfolk -[/color][/u][/b] Supporting themselves on an industry of peat and bog metal these tribes tend to eke by, peddling what they can to outlying regions and cautiously protecting their livelihoods. Poor soil makes cultivation difficult, forcing them to range nearby swamps and fens in spite of hazards. As such many bogfolk hire themselves out as guides or messengers, relying on their read of the land and experience to safely return from each trek.  
 
[u][b][color=f7941d]Tarlanders -[/color][/b][/u] There's one thing and one thing only that these black, blighted lands offer up in abundance. Tar, in all its forms. From vast tracts of oil sand to seeps as far as the eye can see these pitted landscapes belch up black gold. Though mainly used for waterproofing (and all peoples need constantly keep rot at bay) this precious sludge is an even more valuable commodity to those able to refine it. They must trade and rustle or perish, but generally prefer to offer the first before the latter. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Tunnel Nomads -[/color][/u][/b] Mysterious wayfarers that roam self-contained pocket eco-systems deep below Eslau's surface, constantly on the move to stay one step ahead of the shifting subterranean cave-system. As the years accrue nomads migrate to the surface to avoid being swallowed up in their old age and often settle in whatever clime is at hand. Younger stock tend to make the trek only when short of fresh water or as outcasts. Sometimes called milk-eyes from a life spent in near darkness they suffer the day under blindfold but navigate the night like no one else. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Muskeggers -[/color][/u][/b] Few lay claim to the far north and south in all its barren, bitter cold but proud are the men that bear that title. Beasts are their bread and blood their water, and they've prodigious appetites for both. They raid to reap that sown by weaker arms, cutting down those not humble in their wake. Knowing themselves strong they do not offer trade but instead demand tribute, for that given up in tithe is not taken by force. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Fungs -[/color][/u][/b] Sometimes seen as quasi-mystical beings plenty of superstitions hold to those that settle in amongst the tallcaps. Masters of moldlore they drive deeper into the sporeways and softwealds than others dare, impressing with their ability to return. Rare medicine and powerful narcotics are their contribution to the world at large, though the price they ask is steep. No one knows what becomes of the children they take. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Coastals and Brumeys -[/color][/u][/b] If there's one thing to be said first it's that out of respect, fear or a healthy mix of the two these are the only settlements a Muskegger raid will move around and not over. As anyone that would choose to sleep beside the boiling sea needs to be a touch mad or all the way crazy. Fishers and ferrymen those that man the oars are called scalds--for obvious reasons--usually trading amongst themselves (Coastals staying the mainlands and Brumeys populating volcanic island chains) It's important to note that when they go fishing the boats [i][u][b]ARE[/b][/u][/i] the bait. 
 
[b][u][color=f7941d]Tincts -[/color][/u][/b] A term that came about either from tinkering or the 'extinct' machines they surround themselves with this tribe is perhaps most open to foreign influence. Though many peoples lay claim to forgotten buildings and disused machinery the distinction comes from being able to keep it working. Overtly distrusted it is nevertheless their willingness to buy random junk and pay handsomely that keeps them from being openly antagonized. A few functioning firearms don't hurt either. They tend to keep on very good terms with nearby tarlanders.[/color] 

[center][b][h2][color=8dc73f]ϾώϿ[/color][/h2][/b][/center]

[color=8dc73f][b][color=f7941d]Braves[/color][/b] are career warriors as opposed to the hunters and able bodies that are gathered and armed to fill out a raid, usually valued at twice a man or more. Eat. Train. Fight. Sleep. That's this day, the one before and the next. While often butting heads with those that support them braves are a needed tool and deterrent, as sometimes one must take from others and so must always guard against it in return. As more established families can feed and arm more braves poorer members of the tribe often seek their protection. 
 
[b][color=f7941d]Doyens[/color][/b] are the unofficial heads of a tribe, earning the title with mastery of a trade. This usually take many of the years their in short supply of, leaving them old and (assumedly) wise. More than a simple honorific Doyens are considered worth many men, as the skills they perfect are in high demand. A boon to any tribe they draw trade and respect, so much so that families--even those in open feud with one another--will opt to induct them into their households; to come and go as they please. This reverence stems from not only their ability to do a particular craft well but to teach other, less gifted tribesmen to do it well enough. Not every smith need be able to craft swords or armor just as no Doyen has the time to smelt endless bog metal or shod hoppers. 
 
Inversely [b][color=f7941d]cognoscenti[/color][/b] aren't considered a part of any tribe or family, as their honing leaves little room for obligation and it is a burden to support their training. Yet as they will come to wield undeniable power their favor is often sought and mutual reliance is born. In exchange for food, water and other necessities from bordering settlements the schools quell instability in the region, usually by putting down dangerous beasts or weeding out the sort of kinstrife that cannot await a moot. As each cognoscente can do the work of many braves few protest the arrangement. 
 
[b][color=f7941d]The diplomatic landscape[/color][/b] takes the form of general opinions formed from first and secondhand accounts, so while individual and interfamily judgments vary cultural attitudes tend to stay the same. Occasionally the bulk off all tribes in an area will call a [color=f7941d]moot[/color], for purposes of preserving the delicate truces they abide by. Concerns and grievances are aired, things get talked out best they can and the Doyens solve more sensitive issues amongst themselves. Remember, most of all--these are informal and do not resemble democratic ruling. Powerful families and powerful tribes have more say in what will be, it doesn't matter that you're right if the guy disregarding you has more braves to throw at a potential conflict or you need his trade to survive. This is often flaunted in 'big stick' negotiations, so bribes are openly offered during the round table. Common topics of discussion include demands of wergild, negotiating trade and tribute, arranging marriages and so on. [/color]

[/hider]