Sorry I haven't been able to start anything yet, been swarmed. Hopefully I can over the next few days.
Zeropathic
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
This is still very much a work in progress, particularly in the Personality department, but I have a decent idea of who my character is and who my people are. A lot of this is just my notes to myself.
I intend to finish this in the next couple of days, but until then, here's something for you guys to work with.
Something I wonder about is the geography of the region. In Vietmyke's sheet is described a desert region to the east. I imagined the steppes to be north of that, and sort of wrapping around the eastern and northern parts of the Godsfang Mountains, parts of it also bordering or being close to the kingdom of Aldebaran. Did you have any preconceptions about what a map might have looked like?
I intend to finish this in the next couple of days, but until then, here's something for you guys to work with.
Name
Bekter Ovan-Shar - Ovan Khan - of the House of Touman
A curiosity of the Yagar naming tradition is that the father’s name is used as a prefix to the given name, or in the case of girls, their mother’s name is used. As such, Bekter is the name of Ovan’s father. The “Shar” suffix, meaning “yellow”, is an honorific indicating his descent from the legendary Yellow Khan of two centuries past. Those close to him would simply call him Ovan.
Age
31
Race
Human
Nationality
Yagar tribes
North-east of the Godsfang Mountains lies a vast expanse of open, untamed land stretching for thousands of miles. Sometimes called the Land of Winds, due to the the harsh gales that whip across the open plains ceaselessly. Thunderstorms appear with startling suddenness, turn the ground to mud with torrential rain, and then end as abruptly as they started. Winter’s inevitable march shrouds the plains in frozen white, the biting cold a deathly trial for even the hardiest of beasts.
These are the Steppes, and their harsh conditions have forged a tenacious people: the horse nomads, some call them; barbarians, others say; the Yagar, they call themselves. Throughout the ages the names of the tribes have changed, as have their customs and faiths, but their nomadic way of life has remained true for as long as history has been written. They are the people of the horse and bow, hunters and herders, their children taught to ride from the moment they can walk and to shoot from the moment they can hold a bow.
They enter and leave the tapestry of history as suddenly and unpredictably as the thunderstorms sweep the plains. Normally, the tribes turn their weapons against each other and feud over centuries-old transgressions, giving the settled kingdoms little more trouble than occasional raids into their border territories. But occasionally, a great figure emerges and unifies the tribes, and with newfound strength sets their eyes on the riches of the sedentary world. When they are weak, they are little more than a pest. But when they are strong, the tribes pose an existential threat to those who border the steppe, something the kingdoms felt dearly when the Yellow Horde of two centuries past emerged to subjugate all at the behest of their Yellow Khan. Such empires have never lasted, rotting from within with the tensions of power-lusting men and unrevenged grudges.
Military expeditions by the settled kingdoms into the steppes have only ever been partially successful at best: there are next to no settlements to pillage, no cities to capture, and the food is scarce. The tribes know this and simply pack up and retreat into the vastness of the steppes, goading invaders to pursue them, harassing them all the way and striking when they are tired and hungry. Many an over-eager would-be conqueror has lost his armies this way, and the kingdoms have learned that the best way to handle the nomads is to fight them with their own, pitting tribe against tribe through the use of cunning diplomacy to prevent them from uniting in the first place.
Occupation
Khan of the Toumans
Religion and customs
Polytheism, primarily the God of Earth; shamanism; ancestor worship
• The soul is said to come from the earth and reside in the blood, and as such many of the tribes worship the Earth as the principal deity, though the Sky and Fire are popular choices as well. Regardless of which a tribe prefers, the others will still have some significance in their beliefs.
• As the soul comes from the Earth, it should be returned to the Earth after death.
• Blood-sharing rite: the blood of two (some times more) people is mixed in a cup, and then drank in turn by the ones performing the rite. This creates a bond of blood, like that of family. The Yagar say that the soul resides in the blood, and so this ritual is like sharing your soul with someone else. This rite is also part of the traditional marriage ceremony.
• A barren plain lies in the middle of nowhere, entirely flat, with not a hill on the horizon. There grows a White Tree the height of a horse, its trunk crooked, its branches bare. When struck the tree bleeds black blood, called the Blood of the Earth, used for religious ritual. This is the holiest of sites for the Touman tribe.
• The Rite of the Khan is related to the blood-sharing rite. The Khan offers his blood, and thereby a part of his soul, to the soil of the White Tree, and in return he drinks the Blood of the Earth, taking a part of the very soul of the earth itself into him. This is said to give the Khan magical powers, allowing them to sometimes see things unseen to normal men. Certain herbs can be ingested to induce a trance-like state where these things are seen more clearly. With an offering of the Khan’s blood, he can borrow the power of some of these beings that reside at what is believed to be the border of life and death, sometimes with traumatic consequences for the channeler. It is said that old Khans are never truly sane.
Appearance
Roughly human-looking
Personality
• Lived a pretty carefree and adventurous youth, never expecting to claim Khanship of the tribe as both his older and younger brothers were favored over him for the position by their father the Khan. The mantle of responsibility forcibly thrust upon him has made Ovan a more serious person, but the adventurer's spirit lurks just beneath the surface still.
Biography
Possessions
• Book of Grudges: A dusty leather-bound tome passed down since Touman’s time, written in the Yagar script. It is simultaneously a dramatic narrative of the tribe’s history as well as a detailed account of all wrongs committed against the House of Touman. It opens with a vivid retelling of the massacre at the grand assembly after the Yellow Khan’s death, in which Zasag’s assassins butchered Altan and his supporters.
• Bone Necklace: The tips of two human ribs attached to a string of horse hair. The ribs belonged to Ovan’s deceased wife and stillborn child, and serve as both a memento and a connection to their unrevenged spirits.
• Yagar Bow: The Yagar recurve bows – wood, horn, and sinew held together with animal glue – are claimed to be the finest in the world. The tribesmen, who train archery from a young age, are capable of shooting these heavy bows with great accuracy even from atop a galloping horse. Ovan’s current bow was a wedding gift from his wife’s father, who was a bowmaker famed for his skill, and as such this bow is of particularly fine quality.
• Hashad's Saber: This curved sword design of the desert nomads is beloved by the Yagar for how well suited it is to be used from horseback, so much so that it is often imitated by their own weaponsmiths. This particular specimen was a prize won in a bet with a prince of a desert tribe, its high quality workmanship, golden inlays, and intricate engravings a testament to its previous owner's wealth and status. Engraved on the bottom of the blade is the name "Hashad" in the script of the ancient desert kingdoms.
• Ulaan: The Yagar horse is a hardy breed accustomed to the temperamental weather and harsh winters of the steppes. Ovan’s steed is a red-coated mare with a white teardrop spot on her forehead.
Skills
• Shooting
• Riding
• Slashing
• Some shaman mojo magic
• Playing the horse-head fiddle
Motivation
• Ensuring the survival of the remainder of his tribe
• Destroying the Zasags for their transgressions against the Toumans
• Destroying Dagon for his transgressions against the Toumans
Bekter Ovan-Shar - Ovan Khan - of the House of Touman
A curiosity of the Yagar naming tradition is that the father’s name is used as a prefix to the given name, or in the case of girls, their mother’s name is used. As such, Bekter is the name of Ovan’s father. The “Shar” suffix, meaning “yellow”, is an honorific indicating his descent from the legendary Yellow Khan of two centuries past. Those close to him would simply call him Ovan.
Age
31
Race
Human
Nationality
Yagar tribes
North-east of the Godsfang Mountains lies a vast expanse of open, untamed land stretching for thousands of miles. Sometimes called the Land of Winds, due to the the harsh gales that whip across the open plains ceaselessly. Thunderstorms appear with startling suddenness, turn the ground to mud with torrential rain, and then end as abruptly as they started. Winter’s inevitable march shrouds the plains in frozen white, the biting cold a deathly trial for even the hardiest of beasts.
These are the Steppes, and their harsh conditions have forged a tenacious people: the horse nomads, some call them; barbarians, others say; the Yagar, they call themselves. Throughout the ages the names of the tribes have changed, as have their customs and faiths, but their nomadic way of life has remained true for as long as history has been written. They are the people of the horse and bow, hunters and herders, their children taught to ride from the moment they can walk and to shoot from the moment they can hold a bow.
They enter and leave the tapestry of history as suddenly and unpredictably as the thunderstorms sweep the plains. Normally, the tribes turn their weapons against each other and feud over centuries-old transgressions, giving the settled kingdoms little more trouble than occasional raids into their border territories. But occasionally, a great figure emerges and unifies the tribes, and with newfound strength sets their eyes on the riches of the sedentary world. When they are weak, they are little more than a pest. But when they are strong, the tribes pose an existential threat to those who border the steppe, something the kingdoms felt dearly when the Yellow Horde of two centuries past emerged to subjugate all at the behest of their Yellow Khan. Such empires have never lasted, rotting from within with the tensions of power-lusting men and unrevenged grudges.
Military expeditions by the settled kingdoms into the steppes have only ever been partially successful at best: there are next to no settlements to pillage, no cities to capture, and the food is scarce. The tribes know this and simply pack up and retreat into the vastness of the steppes, goading invaders to pursue them, harassing them all the way and striking when they are tired and hungry. Many an over-eager would-be conqueror has lost his armies this way, and the kingdoms have learned that the best way to handle the nomads is to fight them with their own, pitting tribe against tribe through the use of cunning diplomacy to prevent them from uniting in the first place.
The Yellow Horde was a great confederation of tribes centered around the Shargal tribe and its legendary Yellow Khan, who united the tribes and brought them to bear against the settled kingdoms two centuries ago. They conquered the peripheral lands with bow and lance, and used captured engineers to tear down the walls of the great cities. Those who submitted willingly were spared. Those who resisted were often mercilessly slaughtered as examples to others. It was a time of misery for the kingdoms and of glory for the tribes.
In his later years, the Yellow Khan distanced himself from the task of administering his empire. His descendants would say that he dedicated himself to spiritual matters. Others whisper that he went mad, twisted delusions perverting his mind. When he unexpectedly died with no appointed heir, chaos ensued. The eldest son, Altan, was assassinated, some say by his younger twin brothers’ conspiracy. The descendants of Touman, first of the twins, would forever blame Zasag, the second twin, whose descendants would in turn point their finger at Touman.
Regardless of what actually happened, the younger sons would soon turn on each other and drag the empire into a long and bloody civil war that wrought pain and misery upon all the conquered lands. The conquered kingdoms rebelled and rose in coalition against the tribes, reclaiming their lands and driving the nomads back to the steppes. The Yellow Horde was no more, breaking once again up into myriad tribes. The Shargal tribe would forever be split in two: the Zasag tribe and the Touman tribe, whose mutual hatred burns hot still.
The Touman Tribe of today is but a shadow of the Yellow Horde of times past, yet it has still managed to remain one of the dominant tribes of the steppes, along with their bitter rival. Dagon IV, eager to extend his influence and to end the raids at his borders, set out to subjugate the steppe. The Zasag tribe was bribed with power and brought to bear against the Toumans, and with Dagon’s unholy blessing the once-proud tribe was hounded across the steppes until only a few remained. Those who survived have sought protection under the Scarred King, pledging their bows to his cause.
Their bitter rival, the Zasag Tribe, would wear painted masks of wood and bone in battle to frighten their enemies and in ritual to honor their god. After forsaking their faith for Dagon’s promised power, the designs of their masks have become increasingly perverse, as if to mimic the twisted, inhuman things they have become underneath their false faces, which they now wear at all times as if to hide away their true visage. It is whispered across the steppe that their transformation is not due to Dagon’s corrupting influence, but the result of a curse cast upon them by their vengeful god for their transgressions.
In his later years, the Yellow Khan distanced himself from the task of administering his empire. His descendants would say that he dedicated himself to spiritual matters. Others whisper that he went mad, twisted delusions perverting his mind. When he unexpectedly died with no appointed heir, chaos ensued. The eldest son, Altan, was assassinated, some say by his younger twin brothers’ conspiracy. The descendants of Touman, first of the twins, would forever blame Zasag, the second twin, whose descendants would in turn point their finger at Touman.
Regardless of what actually happened, the younger sons would soon turn on each other and drag the empire into a long and bloody civil war that wrought pain and misery upon all the conquered lands. The conquered kingdoms rebelled and rose in coalition against the tribes, reclaiming their lands and driving the nomads back to the steppes. The Yellow Horde was no more, breaking once again up into myriad tribes. The Shargal tribe would forever be split in two: the Zasag tribe and the Touman tribe, whose mutual hatred burns hot still.
The Touman Tribe of today is but a shadow of the Yellow Horde of times past, yet it has still managed to remain one of the dominant tribes of the steppes, along with their bitter rival. Dagon IV, eager to extend his influence and to end the raids at his borders, set out to subjugate the steppe. The Zasag tribe was bribed with power and brought to bear against the Toumans, and with Dagon’s unholy blessing the once-proud tribe was hounded across the steppes until only a few remained. Those who survived have sought protection under the Scarred King, pledging their bows to his cause.
Their bitter rival, the Zasag Tribe, would wear painted masks of wood and bone in battle to frighten their enemies and in ritual to honor their god. After forsaking their faith for Dagon’s promised power, the designs of their masks have become increasingly perverse, as if to mimic the twisted, inhuman things they have become underneath their false faces, which they now wear at all times as if to hide away their true visage. It is whispered across the steppe that their transformation is not due to Dagon’s corrupting influence, but the result of a curse cast upon them by their vengeful god for their transgressions.
Occupation
Khan of the Toumans
Religion and customs
Polytheism, primarily the God of Earth; shamanism; ancestor worship
• The soul is said to come from the earth and reside in the blood, and as such many of the tribes worship the Earth as the principal deity, though the Sky and Fire are popular choices as well. Regardless of which a tribe prefers, the others will still have some significance in their beliefs.
• As the soul comes from the Earth, it should be returned to the Earth after death.
• Blood-sharing rite: the blood of two (some times more) people is mixed in a cup, and then drank in turn by the ones performing the rite. This creates a bond of blood, like that of family. The Yagar say that the soul resides in the blood, and so this ritual is like sharing your soul with someone else. This rite is also part of the traditional marriage ceremony.
• A barren plain lies in the middle of nowhere, entirely flat, with not a hill on the horizon. There grows a White Tree the height of a horse, its trunk crooked, its branches bare. When struck the tree bleeds black blood, called the Blood of the Earth, used for religious ritual. This is the holiest of sites for the Touman tribe.
• The Rite of the Khan is related to the blood-sharing rite. The Khan offers his blood, and thereby a part of his soul, to the soil of the White Tree, and in return he drinks the Blood of the Earth, taking a part of the very soul of the earth itself into him. This is said to give the Khan magical powers, allowing them to sometimes see things unseen to normal men. Certain herbs can be ingested to induce a trance-like state where these things are seen more clearly. With an offering of the Khan’s blood, he can borrow the power of some of these beings that reside at what is believed to be the border of life and death, sometimes with traumatic consequences for the channeler. It is said that old Khans are never truly sane.
Appearance
Roughly human-looking
Personality
• Lived a pretty carefree and adventurous youth, never expecting to claim Khanship of the tribe as both his older and younger brothers were favored over him for the position by their father the Khan. The mantle of responsibility forcibly thrust upon him has made Ovan a more serious person, but the adventurer's spirit lurks just beneath the surface still.
Biography
• The tribe is a remnant of the infamous Yellow Horde of centuries past, which united the tribes and swept the settled eastern kingdoms. Upon the death of the Yellow Khan, a civil war broke out over the succession and the Horde was fractured as a result, and the fractured tribes were driven back to the steppes. Two branches of the royal family formed new tribes and have been bitter rivals ever since. (Touman tribe/Zasag tribe)
• Dagon moves to subjugate the tribes near his borders. My rival tribe submits in exchange for corrupted power and are tasked with hunting down my defiant tribe to the last man, woman, and child. Weakened after engagements with Dagon’s armies, my tribe is no match for the Zasags and our rapidly diminishing numbers are hounded across the steppes, denied even the time to perform rites for their dead who are left to rot on the steppes.
• My father, the Khan is killed in a raid. My brothers and sisters are captured. My pregnant wife is mortally wounded. We escape and head to the plain of the sacred White Tree with a small cohort. My dying wife volunteers her life in sacrifice to the earth. She is fed a concoction to render her delirious, and in an attempt to save the child it is cut from her womb. Her blood seeps into the earth as she draws her last breath. The underdeveloped child is held in my arms; unmoving, unbreathing, void of life.
• The Ritual of Khans is performed, with the last remnants of my tribe as my witnesses. The blood of my wife and stillborn child is offered to the earth so that their souls can return to the soil. I give my blood to the soil, and in turn I drink the Blood of the Earth. I am made Khan of the Toumans.
• A rib is taken each from my dead wife and stillborn child to be made into an amulet.
• I take the remainder of my tribe and seek the Scarred King’s protection.
• Dagon moves to subjugate the tribes near his borders. My rival tribe submits in exchange for corrupted power and are tasked with hunting down my defiant tribe to the last man, woman, and child. Weakened after engagements with Dagon’s armies, my tribe is no match for the Zasags and our rapidly diminishing numbers are hounded across the steppes, denied even the time to perform rites for their dead who are left to rot on the steppes.
• My father, the Khan is killed in a raid. My brothers and sisters are captured. My pregnant wife is mortally wounded. We escape and head to the plain of the sacred White Tree with a small cohort. My dying wife volunteers her life in sacrifice to the earth. She is fed a concoction to render her delirious, and in an attempt to save the child it is cut from her womb. Her blood seeps into the earth as she draws her last breath. The underdeveloped child is held in my arms; unmoving, unbreathing, void of life.
• The Ritual of Khans is performed, with the last remnants of my tribe as my witnesses. The blood of my wife and stillborn child is offered to the earth so that their souls can return to the soil. I give my blood to the soil, and in turn I drink the Blood of the Earth. I am made Khan of the Toumans.
• A rib is taken each from my dead wife and stillborn child to be made into an amulet.
• I take the remainder of my tribe and seek the Scarred King’s protection.
Possessions
• Book of Grudges: A dusty leather-bound tome passed down since Touman’s time, written in the Yagar script. It is simultaneously a dramatic narrative of the tribe’s history as well as a detailed account of all wrongs committed against the House of Touman. It opens with a vivid retelling of the massacre at the grand assembly after the Yellow Khan’s death, in which Zasag’s assassins butchered Altan and his supporters.
• Bone Necklace: The tips of two human ribs attached to a string of horse hair. The ribs belonged to Ovan’s deceased wife and stillborn child, and serve as both a memento and a connection to their unrevenged spirits.
• Yagar Bow: The Yagar recurve bows – wood, horn, and sinew held together with animal glue – are claimed to be the finest in the world. The tribesmen, who train archery from a young age, are capable of shooting these heavy bows with great accuracy even from atop a galloping horse. Ovan’s current bow was a wedding gift from his wife’s father, who was a bowmaker famed for his skill, and as such this bow is of particularly fine quality.
• Hashad's Saber: This curved sword design of the desert nomads is beloved by the Yagar for how well suited it is to be used from horseback, so much so that it is often imitated by their own weaponsmiths. This particular specimen was a prize won in a bet with a prince of a desert tribe, its high quality workmanship, golden inlays, and intricate engravings a testament to its previous owner's wealth and status. Engraved on the bottom of the blade is the name "Hashad" in the script of the ancient desert kingdoms.
• Ulaan: The Yagar horse is a hardy breed accustomed to the temperamental weather and harsh winters of the steppes. Ovan’s steed is a red-coated mare with a white teardrop spot on her forehead.
Skills
• Shooting
• Riding
• Slashing
• Some shaman mojo magic
• Playing the horse-head fiddle
Motivation
• Ensuring the survival of the remainder of his tribe
• Destroying the Zasags for their transgressions against the Toumans
• Destroying Dagon for his transgressions against the Toumans
Something I wonder about is the geography of the region. In Vietmyke's sheet is described a desert region to the east. I imagined the steppes to be north of that, and sort of wrapping around the eastern and northern parts of the Godsfang Mountains, parts of it also bordering or being close to the kingdom of Aldebaran. Did you have any preconceptions about what a map might have looked like?
1x Like
GM
Flagg Strange. This outcome I did not foresee.
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
This is still very much a work in progress, particularly in the Personality department, but I have a decent idea of who my character is and who my people are. A lot of this is just my notes to myself.
I intend to finish this in the next couple of days, but until then, here's something for you guys to work with.Name
Bekter Ovan-Shar - Ovan Khan - of the House of Touman
A curiosity of the Yagar naming tradition is that the father’s name is used as a prefix to the given name, or in the case of girls, their mother’s name is used. As such, Bekter is the name of Ovan’s father. The “Shar” suffix, meaning “yellow”, is an honorific indicating his descent from the legendary Yellow Khan of two centuries past. Those close to him would simply call him Ovan.
Age
31
Race
Human
Nationality
Yagar tribes
North-east of the Godsfang Mountains lies a vast expanse of open, untamed land stretching for thousands of miles. Sometimes called the Land of Winds, due to the the harsh gales that whip across the open plains ceaselessly. Thunderstorms appear with startling suddenness, turn the ground to mud with torrential rain, and then end as abruptly as they started. Winter’s inevitable march shrouds the plains in frozen white, the biting cold a deathly trial for even the hardiest of beasts.
These are the Steppes, and their harsh conditions have forged a tenacious people: the horse nomads, some call them; barbarians, others say; the Yagar, they call themselves. Throughout the ages the names of the tribes have changed, as have their customs and faiths, but their nomadic way of life has remained true for as long as history has been written. They are the people of the horse and bow, hunters and herders, their children taught to ride from the moment they can walk and to shoot from the moment they can hold a bow.
They enter and leave the tapestry of history as suddenly and unpredictably as the thunderstorms sweep the plains. Normally, the tribes turn their weapons against each other and feud over centuries-old transgressions, giving the settled kingdoms little more trouble than occasional raids into their border territories. But occasionally, a great figure emerges and unifies the tribes, and with newfound strength sets their eyes on the riches of the sedentary world. When they are weak, they are little more than a pest. But when they are strong, the tribes pose an existential threat to those who border the steppe, something the kingdoms felt dearly when the Yellow Horde of two centuries past emerged to subjugate all at the behest of their Yellow Khan. Such empires have never lasted, rotting from within with the tensions of power-lusting men and unrevenged grudges.
Military expeditions by the settled kingdoms into the steppes have only ever been partially successful at best: there are next to no settlements to pillage, no cities to capture, and the food is scarce. The tribes know this and simply pack up and retreat into the vastness of the steppes, goading invaders to pursue them, harassing them all the way and striking when they are tired and hungry. Many an over-eager would-be conqueror has lost his armies this way, and the kingdoms have learned that the best way to handle the nomads is to fight them with their own, pitting tribe against tribe through the use of cunning diplomacy to prevent them from uniting in the first place.The Yellow Horde was a great confederation of tribes centered around the Shargal tribe and its legendary Yellow Khan, who united the tribes and brought them to bear against the settled kingdoms two centuries ago. They conquered the peripheral lands with bow and lance, and used captured engineers to tear down the walls of the great cities. Those who submitted willingly were spared. Those who resisted were often mercilessly slaughtered as examples to others. It was a time of misery for the kingdoms and of glory for the tribes.
In his later years, the Yellow Khan distanced himself from the task of administering his empire. His descendants would say that he dedicated himself to spiritual matters. Others whisper that he went mad, twisted delusions perverting his mind. When he unexpectedly died with no appointed heir, chaos ensued. The eldest son, Altan, was assassinated, some say by his younger twin brothers’ conspiracy. The descendants of Touman, first of the twins, would forever blame Zasag, the second twin, whose descendants would in turn point their finger at Touman.
Regardless of what actually happened, the younger sons would soon turn on each other and drag the empire into a long and bloody civil war that wrought pain and misery upon all the conquered lands. The conquered kingdoms rebelled and rose in coalition against the tribes, reclaiming their lands and driving the nomads back to the steppes. The Yellow Horde was no more, breaking once again up into myriad tribes. The Shargal tribe would forever be split in two: the Zasag tribe and the Touman tribe, whose mutual hatred burns hot still.
The Touman Tribe of today is but a shadow of the Yellow Horde of times past, yet it has still managed to remain one of the dominant tribes of the steppes, along with their bitter rival. Dagon IV, eager to extend his influence and to end the raids at his borders, set out to subjugate the steppe. The Zasag tribe was bribed with power and brought to bear against the Toumans, and with Dagon’s unholy blessing the once-proud tribe was hounded across the steppes until only a few remained. Those who survived have sought protection under the Scarred King, pledging their bows to his cause.
Their bitter rival, the Zasag Tribe, would wear painted masks of wood and bone in battle to frighten their enemies and in ritual to honor their god. After forsaking their faith for Dagon’s promised power, the designs of their masks have become increasingly perverse, as if to mimic the twisted, inhuman things they have become underneath their false faces, which they now wear at all times as if to hide away their true visage. It is whispered across the steppe that their transformation is not due to Dagon’s corrupting influence, but the result of a curse cast upon them by their vengeful god for their transgressions.
Occupation
Khan of the Toumans
Religion and customs
Polytheism, primarily the God of Earth; shamanism; ancestor worship
• The soul is said to come from the earth and reside in the blood, and as such many of the tribes worship the Earth as the principal deity, though the Sky and Fire are popular choices as well. Regardless of which a tribe prefers, the others will still have some significance in their beliefs.
• As the soul comes from the Earth, it should be returned to the Earth after death.
• Blood-sharing rite: the blood of two (some times more) people is mixed in a cup, and then drank in turn by the ones performing the rite. This creates a bond of blood, like that of family. The Yagar say that the soul resides in the blood, and so this ritual is like sharing your soul with someone else. This rite is also part of the traditional marriage ceremony.
• A barren plain lies in the middle of nowhere, entirely flat, with not a hill on the horizon. There grows a White Tree the height of a horse, its trunk crooked, its branches bare. When struck the tree bleeds black blood, called the Blood of the Earth, used for religious ritual. This is the holiest of sites for the Touman tribe.
• The Rite of the Khan is related to the blood-sharing rite. The Khan offers his blood, and thereby a part of his soul, to the soil of the White Tree, and in return he drinks the Blood of the Earth, taking a part of the very soul of the earth itself into him. This is said to give the Khan magical powers, allowing them to sometimes see things unseen to normal men. Certain herbs can be ingested to induce a trance-like state where these things are seen more clearly. With an offering of the Khan’s blood, he can borrow the power of some of these beings that reside at what is believed to be the border of life and death, sometimes with traumatic consequences for the channeler. It is said that old Khans are never truly sane.
Appearance
Roughly human-looking
Personality
• Lived a pretty carefree and adventurous youth, never expecting to claim Khanship of the tribe as both his older and younger brothers were favored over him for the position by their father the Khan. The mantle of responsibility forcibly thrust upon him has made Ovan a more serious person, but the adventurer's spirit lurks just beneath the surface still.
Biography• The tribe is a remnant of the infamous Yellow Horde of centuries past, which united the tribes and swept the settled eastern kingdoms. Upon the death of the Yellow Khan, a civil war broke out over the succession and the Horde was fractured as a result, and the fractured tribes were driven back to the steppes. Two branches of the royal family formed new tribes and have been bitter rivals ever since. (Touman tribe/Zasag tribe)
• Dagon moves to subjugate the tribes near his borders. My rival tribe submits in exchange for corrupted power and are tasked with hunting down my defiant tribe to the last man, woman, and child. Weakened after engagements with Dagon’s armies, my tribe is no match for the Zasags and our rapidly diminishing numbers are hounded across the steppes, denied even the time to perform rites for their dead who are left to rot on the steppes.
• My father, the Khan is killed in a raid. My brothers and sisters are captured. My pregnant wife is mortally wounded. We escape and head to the plain of the sacred White Tree with a small cohort. My dying wife volunteers her life in sacrifice to the earth. She is fed a concoction to render her delirious, and in an attempt to save the child it is cut from her womb. Her blood seeps into the earth as she draws her last breath. The underdeveloped child is held in my arms; unmoving, unbreathing, void of life.
• The Ritual of Khans is performed, with the last remnants of my tribe as my witnesses. The blood of my wife and stillborn child is offered to the earth so that their souls can return to the soil. I give my blood to the soil, and in turn I drink the Blood of the Earth. I am made Khan of the Toumans.
• A rib is taken each from my dead wife and stillborn child to be made into an amulet.
• I take the remainder of my tribe and seek the Scarred King’s protection.
Possessions
• Book of Grudges: A dusty leather-bound tome passed down since Touman’s time, written in the Yagar script. It is simultaneously a dramatic narrative of the tribe’s history as well as a detailed account of all wrongs committed against the House of Touman. It opens with a vivid retelling of the massacre at the grand assembly after the Yellow Khan’s death, in which Zasag’s assassins butchered Altan and his supporters.
• Bone Necklace: The tips of two human ribs attached to a string of horse hair. The ribs belonged to Ovan’s deceased wife and stillborn child, and serve as both a memento and a connection to their unrevenged spirits.
• Yagar Bow: The Yagar recurve bows – wood, horn, and sinew held together with animal glue – are claimed to be the finest in the world. The tribesmen, who train archery from a young age, are capable of shooting these heavy bows with great accuracy even from atop a galloping horse. Ovan’s current bow was a wedding gift from his wife’s father, who was a bowmaker famed for his skill, and as such this bow is of particularly fine quality.
• Hashad's Saber: This curved sword design of the desert nomads is beloved by the Yagar for how well suited it is to be used from horseback, so much so that it is often imitated by their own weaponsmiths. This particular specimen was a prize won in a bet with a prince of a desert tribe, its high quality workmanship, golden inlays, and intricate engravings a testament to its previous owner's wealth and status. Engraved on the bottom of the blade is the name "Hashad" in the script of the ancient desert kingdoms.
• Ulaan: The Yagar horse is a hardy breed accustomed to the temperamental weather and harsh winters of the steppes. Ovan’s steed is a red-coated mare with a white teardrop spot on her forehead.
Skills
• Shooting
• Riding
• Slashing
• Some shaman mojo magic
• Playing the horse-head fiddle
Motivation
• Ensuring the survival of the remainder of his tribe
• Destroying the Zasags for their transgressions against the Toumans
• Destroying Dagon for his transgressions against the Toumans
Something I wonder about is the geography of the region. In Vietmyke's sheet is described a desert region to the east. I imagined the steppes to be north of that, and sort of wrapping around the eastern and northern parts of the Godsfang Mountains, parts of it also bordering or being close to the kingdom of Aldebaran. Did you have any preconceptions about what a map might have looked like?
Accepted, awesome CS. I think I'll begin work on a map once we have all our characters join. Then I'll try to reconcile everything mentioned in the CSes.
Dreamforge
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
I'd like to express interest in signing up for this RP if you'd be willing to have me along for the ride. I have a couple of concepts in my mind currently. If the @Flagg is willing, should I send over a PM and see what would be most fitting/desirable for the setting? Or is it more suitable for an OOC discussion?
Scratch that, I think I have a solid idea. I'll get writing.
Scratch that, I think I have a solid idea. I'll get writing.
Dreamforge
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
༊
H a r s i i l S e e k e r O f H e a r t s
Oh, but you must travel through the woods again and again, and you must be lucky to avoid the Niifal every time.
But the Niifal… the Niifal only needs to find you
once
R a c e
N i i f a l
N i g h t T r o l l
The Niifal, otherwise known in the Human tongue as the Night Trolls are a clandestine and loose collection of highly specialised predators. In their formative years the Night Trolls had gained a somewhat legendary reputation among human populations of Aldebaran (and perhaps Kingdoms further afield) as creatures of the night who would stalk the darkest recesses of lonely villages, waiting for days for the perfect time to strike; the result often led to entire communities being silently eradicated before the signal for help could be sounded. However, the prime of the Night Trolls has long since passed, and as communities of Humans grew larger, more complex, and better organised, the Niifal have subsequently been pushed back further into the remote areas of Aldebaran. Some scholars consider this once proud -and universally frightening- race to be statistically extinct, with no reported cases of their attacks upon population centres since the inauguration of Dagon IV. Most equate this to the systematic culling of the hunters in recent years to nullify the threat that they pose to isolated communities.
Since the Red Night began and the lands of Aldebaran have begun to twist and deform to the will of the Demon Emperor and his Perfecti, those few who still survive have had to stalk the noxious bogs and decrepit forests of the once-proud Aldebaran, subsisting not on the flesh of Men, but the decaying forms of the otherworldly beasts that have taken residence in the deepest corners of this dying land.
Night Trolls are terrifying to behold by the standards of Humans, and are often seen as animalistic, primal creatures. On average, they stand at eight feet tall reared to full height, with the tallest recorded individuals reaching dizzying heights of eleven feet. That said, they do not often stand to full height, nor do they walk bipedally in most cases. It is much more comfortable and efficient for these creatures to move on all fours, affording them a greater running speed and a much lower profile: perfect for hunting.
Niifal are adapted for hunting in the same sense that a wild predator is adapted for the kill; they are immensely strong, dexterous, and are infamous for the lack of sound they produce even during the most intense chase. It seems as though every aspect of a Niifal's physiology is precision engineered for the sole purpose of stalking man and his ilk, and making the absolute most of the physical advantages that such a creature wields.
...At least once they were proud hunters of man. Now, they face extinction; man is no longer the focus of their wrath. Survival is now the priority, and they will forge alliances where they had once never expected in order to stand against the Demon Emperor for perhaps a few more years, postponing the inevitable...
N a t i o n a l i t y
A s i r i i
A n c e s t o r ' s T r i b e
The Asirii is the collective name for the last known community of Night Trolls left extant in the world. Their ancestral home was the sprawling Nightlock Forest due North of Kuranes. It was here that their influence was at it's most extreme, with even armed and prepared contingents of soldiers refusing to march within a hundred miles of it's border for fear of incurring the wrath of the Niifal watching from within. Now, though, given the systematic culling of their species and the bastardisation of Aldebaran by dark forces from the South, there is little left of this influence. The Asirii represents perhaps a hundred individuals, though such a number is declining daily, leaving the Night Trolls no choice but to venture forward into the rotten domain of Dagon to carve their place in this new world by force.
Each member of the Asirii hunts alone, stalking the dead forests and fens of Aldebaran and giving the inhuman beasts that wander something new to fear. They strike fast, and they strike with fury, cleansing the lands one monster at a time. The Niifal know that these corporeal intruders are not the top of the food chain, that they are not the apex, for that honour lies with the Niifal alone. The Night Trolls know that they are doomed, and they will fight until every last one of them has been slain in order to prove their dominion of this dying land.
R e l i g i o n
The Night Trolls do not subscribe to any of the Human religions of the land, if their spiritual nature can even be called religious. While they do not worship an anthropomorphised deity of any kind, they do revere the stars and their patterns, and attribute certain natural phenomena to the movement of the constellations across seasons and years. It is often believed within the Asirii that births that align with powerful constellations will yield powerful Niifal, leading influential and glorious lives.
It has been said, but never truly confirmed by Human scholars, that the Niifal use the stars to guide themselves to their next targets, following a favoured star for weeks until they find a suitable population of their favourite targets -humans- to prey upon. Apparently a Niifal will honour the stars with a kill by draining the blood of the last victim in a hunt and drawing the symbol of the leading star into the dirt with it.
All Night Trolls aspire to one thing: to be the Apex of the World, to be the greatest predator the world has ever seen.
So it is said, anyway...
A p p e a r a n c e
Harsiil is somewhat typical of the Night Trolls in appearance alone; ten feet tall, ragged fur as dark as the night, a fearsome set of jagged horns angled back away from his head, and vicious teeth lining his mouth in droves. He speaks his native tongue in tones reminiscent of thunder, dons plates of darkened steel over vital areas, and gazes out of jet black eyes punctuated with a pinprick pure white pupil nestled within. Such a creature instills fear not just in men, but in beasts and demons alike as though they were his prey of years gone.
P e r s o n a l i t y
Harsiil's unusual nature belies his nearly standard appearance; this hunter wishes to prove the dominance of his near-dead people, but not through fighting until the last. From a young age, he has been time and time again proven to be nothing short of ingenious, out-hunting even his most experienced peers with apparently minimal effort. He sees alternatives to the pervasive idea that he must die fighting for the glory of his ancestors; news of the rebellion of the Scarred King spreads fast, conveying a message strong enough to stir his mind and heart into joining the number who desire the same as he: to dethrone the Demon Emperor and take back the land from the darkness. This is his goal, his utter imperative, but such an honourable goal is studded with sheer impatience and contempt at the Humans who lead the revolution.
It was they that culled his people in days of old, fuelling a feud that has lasted generations. He feels somewhat superior to any Human peers he may encounter, naturally seeing them as prey and not as allies; leading to heated encounters and occasionally brutal fights that leave him with fewer allies than before.
He is a solitary creature, and such social commands are alien to him; while he tries to adhere to the Human code of honour whilst in their presence as a mere courtesy, he often undermines command and respect to further his own goals, whether they be shared by the collective or not.
B i o g r a p h y
It is said that every Niifal's life is determined by the position of stars upon the night of their birth; for some reason unknown to human scholars, Niifal cannot be birthed on clouded nights where such positions cannot be determined by any reasonable means. Any gentle-mannered Night Troll (as rare as they come and as loose this term may be) will tell you that this is due to the fact that the soul of the Niifal comes from the cosmic realm itself, their primal souls projected from the stars and embedded within their bodies prior to birth.
There is, however, apparently one exception to this near-mythical rule. Upon one darkened night exactly one full cycle before the inauguration of Dagon IV -roughly sixty six years- there was recorded a storm with clouds so black that no stars could be seen, but that scintillated the darkness with flashes of lightning as blue as the ocean itself. It was during this legendary deluge that a rogue, runaway Niifal and a Star Shaman of the Asirii clan witnessed the birth of their firstborn whilst being pursued by a specialised contingent of elite Night Troll hunters from the South, intent on putting down the heavily pregnant rogue. It was in a small clearing in the sodden forest that the first starless Niifal was born, and it was here that the thirty pursing soldiers were encircled by a pack of Niifal loyal to the Shaman and his newborn and consequently slain to the last.
It was not until many years later that this newborn earned a name through the hunt.
The legend of the Unkillable Man was one that has stayed with the Niifal for many generations, and referred to an undying human of considerable might who found solace within a fearsome dungeon of ice in the far Northern reaches of the land. Many Night Trolls had attempted and failed, for some reason, to successfully hunt this most dangerous of Men.
The young and unnamed, starless Niifal, perhaps in a brash display of confidence, heard this tale and solemnly travelled North for sixty six days. It was within the icy reaches of the blizzard-raged land that he found the ancient dungeon.
He descended.
Many considered the starless Niifal to be dead as months passed with no word of success. His self-appointed task was nearly forgotten about by his clan.
But, on the clearest night of the generation, where every star could be seen with astounding clarity, the Niifal returned, the heart of the unkillable man lashed into an amulet and worn around his neck. The blood had long since dried on the long journey back, but upon presenting it to the Asirii, they burned the heart upon a bonfire and six years of clear nights followed. The hunter earned himself a name: the Seeker of Hearts.
In the native Niifal tongue, this is pronounced 'Harsiil'.
E q u i p m e n t
M o r t a n i i s T h e M o r t a l F a n g
Mortaniis is Harsiil's favoured weapon for close-to-mid range fighting, or rather, hunting. It is a nine-foot long pole arm weapon that resembles a fearsome spear; a shaft of blackened steel with a straight Niifal horn -an object of incredible natural strength and keen sharpness- fused to the end. It is both aerodynamic and balanced, allowing for a combination of striking and slashing attacks to be performed by a skilled user such as Harsiil; though he is rarely forced to engage in such brash actions, as the first attack tends to be a killing blow upon unsuspecting victims.
It is said that this weapon has been dipped in the blood of the mythical Niifal immortals, granting it a deadly touch, inflicting wounds that simply do not heal. The validity of such claims, however, err on the side of hearsay as nearly all notable cases of attack from various holders of this weapon through the ages have unanimously been fatal.
A spear of this kind allows one to kill silently, and from great distance. Coupled with the immense strength of the Niifal in general, Mortaniis is simply an extension of the brutality of the Night Trolls.
K a r n i i s C o w a r d ' s L a m e n t
If the classic description of a Night Troll Greatbow could be given form, it would take the exact image of Karniis (The Niifal native term for Coward's Lament). Closer to a ballista than a bow, this savage weapon is larger than a fully grown human, and requires the immense strength only held by the Night Trolls to even lift, let alone draw with any accuracy. However, the effectiveness of such a construct cannot be denied once it is seen functionally in action. Firing huge, weighty greatarrows across vast distances, a well aimed shot can split a man in half from a hundred yards, pin him to a tree from five hundred yards, and kill him reliably at a thousand. Truly a weapon to be feared by any known to be in the sights of the Night Troll hunters. However, it is rare to see Greatbows being used, as the impact from the arrows cause such deafening impact sounds that they can be heard from across valleys, resembling the sound of thunder striking; this eliminates the advantage of the element of surprise - they are also cumbersome to draw, and the arrows are so heavy that very few can be easily carried at any moment, even for an experienced Night Troll hunter.
S k i l l s
T e r r i f y i n g
Night Trolls are gigantic beasts, to say the least. They stand occasionally at twice the height of fully grown men, have muscles many orders of magnitudes larger than the aforementioned, are lined with innumerable teeth, don fur as black as the deepest night, and Harsiil is no different. It is entirely natural for weak-willed men and mer to be entirely and instinctively terrified by the mere sight of a Night Troll, and for the stout and steadfast of them to be uneasy at best. It may be due to appearance alone, or the booming tones of their voices and warcries, or perhaps the way they slink and skulk through the shadows and the trees without a single sound that makes them so universally an object of contempt and fear in the domains of men.
This can often be an advantage, sometimes a disadvantage, but never inconseqeuntial.
P r e d a t o r
In every single aspect, Harsiil and his kin are highly evolved predators; the stuff of nightmares. Despite his size, he is capable of moving extremely quickly on all fours, and is highly dexterous to boot. Part of his exceptional hunting ability stems from his ability to reposition rapidly, and with almost no restriction. His powerful arms and claws allow him to climb walls, towers, trees, and almost any obstacle quickly and gain height, or perhaps give chase where no other predator could. This lends him an exceptional advantage over traditional fighters who excel in prolonged combat. He is capable of breaking off when compromised and reappearing once more where he is least expected.
The other part of his exceptional hunting ability is due to his natural stealthy tendencies, especially during the night and in darkened areas. He can move undetected to even the most astute listeners; move subtly but extremely quickly, and close distances with enough speed to catch any planned target seemingly without any prior warning. Once he has found a target and engaged from the safety of his target's blindness, it is simply a matter of the kill; the easiest thing in the world for a beast of this ilk.
U n r e l e n t i n g
Harsiil is more animal than civil, and does not let a simple wound or trap slow his progress. Pain by human standards is but a scratch for such a gigantic creature, and even more severe injuries can be shrugged off at least for a while until they can be treated.
...And treated they can be. Combined with incredible resilience, a Night Troll knows the fauna of the land well enough that primitive herbal remedies can be concocted on the fly, allowing for minor symptoms to be stemmed. Bleeding can be stopped, healing can be quickened, and otherwise fatal injuries can be stemmed just long enough for survival.
W a r c r i m e s
WARCRIMESSSSS
M o t i v a t i o n
Revenge? Glory? Necessity? Perhaps all of these factor in to Harsiil's decision to attach himself to the Scarred King's rebellion. Perhaps it is true that if he simply allows the reign of the Demon Emperor to continue then he, his clan, and alas the entire world either bend the knee or die. For such a proud member of such a proud species, this is simply not an option.
If he must ally himself with his natural prey, and generational enemies, so be it. The world will not be the plaything of Dagon, he shall not be the Apex of the World; such an honour should lie with Harsiil and no other.
GM
Flagg Strange. This outcome I did not foresee.
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
@Dreamforge looking good so far!
Jinxer The British One
Member
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1 yr ago
@Flagg
I've updated a few bits in my post recently, I should be able to complete and polish it off tonight.
I've updated a few bits in my post recently, I should be able to complete and polish it off tonight.
GM
Flagg Strange. This outcome I did not foresee.
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
@Flagg
I've updated a few bits in my post recently, I should be able to complete and polish it off tonight.
Hey sorry i overlooked your character completely! looking good! you can feel free to put the WIP CS in the char tab. Same to you, @Dreamforge
All these interesting cultures that Hadar will obsess over, very good.
Dreamforge
Member
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7 yrs ago
@Flagg Awesome. I should have the sheet functionally done by the end of the night. I'll pop it up when it's reached that stage.
Jinxer The British One
Member
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1 yr ago
@Flagg
Shiny. I've finished off the CS and posted it in the characters session as requested. Looking forward to throwing this varied cast into the thick of it!
Shiny. I've finished off the CS and posted it in the characters session as requested. Looking forward to throwing this varied cast into the thick of it!
Zeropathic
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1 yr ago
I updated my sheet with some religious flavor. I'm hoping to get the biography finished tomorrow or on Sunday.
Kassarock W O R L D E A T E R
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8 days ago
Space for one more?
GM
Flagg Strange. This outcome I did not foresee.
Member
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2 mos ago
Space for one more?
taking folks on a case by case basis
Lucidnonsense
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
Hrmm Culture concept.
A wandering Festival of masked jesters who set up camp outside of cities. Those who see the show come back changed. Most just come back with an impossible story, some fall into a deep depression, some go mad, and Others leave with the festival to join them in mirthful horror.
A wandering Festival of masked jesters who set up camp outside of cities. Those who see the show come back changed. Most just come back with an impossible story, some fall into a deep depression, some go mad, and Others leave with the festival to join them in mirthful horror.
That's an interesting hook actually. Where are you going with that? Part of a character concept, or a sort of side-storyline?
Edit: Oh btw @Dreamforge, under Harsii's 'Terrifying' skill you mention "voices and warcrimes". That's probably meant to be warcries, right? Though I imagine that a being such as he has little respect for the Geneva convention either way.
Edit: Oh btw @Dreamforge, under Harsii's 'Terrifying' skill you mention "voices and warcrimes". That's probably meant to be warcries, right? Though I imagine that a being such as he has little respect for the Geneva convention either way.
Dreamforge
Member
Seen
7 yrs ago
@Ashgan
You can now imagine me howling with laughter. Who knew autocorrect on a laptop could be so unhelpful?!
I'll have the bio finished tonight, and will post him in the character tab when complete.
EDIT: There are apparently many blaring spelling errors in his CS so far that add a little comic value to the whole thing. Apparently a Greatbow can split a man in half at a hundred years. Truly, a time travelling weapon for the ages!
You can now imagine me howling with laughter. Who knew autocorrect on a laptop could be so unhelpful?!
I'll have the bio finished tonight, and will post him in the character tab when complete.
EDIT: There are apparently many blaring spelling errors in his CS so far that add a little comic value to the whole thing. Apparently a Greatbow can split a man in half at a hundred years. Truly, a time travelling weapon for the ages!
GM
Flagg Strange. This outcome I did not foresee.
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Sorry its been quiet, folks. Busy weekend for me. Will try to have the first post up tonight or tomorrow and we'll be off to the races!
2x Like
Jinxer The British One
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1 yr ago
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