Legion02

Castle of the Immortals (Reboot)

@Emma @KimmiNinja @EmzyOfNeverland Okay so I made my character the fifth born with 416 as age. According do Emma's list that should work. Am I right?

Castle of the Immortals (Reboot)

@Emma Apologies, but I thought Maggie was third in line? Your CS in the Character tab at least says so. So I thought the fourth in rank was available.

DragonFall - The Leviathans Are Coming

@Leoven Okay probably a stupid question but what's the status on magic and mages? Like can they be D&D kind of wizards throwing fireballs? Or is it pretty rare, mystical and makes subtle stuff happen? I'm guessing fireball throwing bad-asses considering the Lung seem to be closely attuned to magic. But I'm still asking to be sure.

Castle of the Immortals (Reboot)

Victor Krishkov

Name: Victor Peregrinans Krishkov
Appearance: Much can be said about Victor’s appearance. Perfection would be the word he himself would use. He keeps his hair rather short for the fashion. His dark chocolate eyes can sometimes appear as if there is no iris or pupil. Just a circle of dark in white. Like most vampires, Victor is rather pale. Though that is certainly not the most striking feature of his body. Victor stands an impressive 6’2” and is fairly muscled.

Age: 416
Line of Succession: Fifth born
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Personality: Cold, perfectionist, distant but loyal and industrious. Many vampires, with age, tend to gravitate to more artful personalities. Over time, merely experiencing culture is often not enough. They require to make it. Victor is very much an exception of this rule. He is a weak painter. Even though he might have attempted writing back when he was a mere 150 years old, these days he has accepted that he would never add to the world’s beauty. However, if not artful, Victor is many other things. He is a true fighter and holds physical prowess high. With ceaseless determination, he will continue once chosen a plan of action. In the modern days, he is considered cutthroat and harsh on everyone around him. Including himself. He expects nothing less than excellence. Some vampires would (though never in his face) call him a perfectionist bastard. But say what you want, sooner or later, Victor knows. And he is not of the forgiving kind. However, he is a loyal person. Proof your worth and you can be sure to be protected. He will follow every rule his elder siblings (and, of course, his parents) set.

Those who lived long enough might actually remember that Victor wasn’t always as cold and calculated as he is now. In fact, he still has a piece of his heart. But it’s sealed and frozen. While he will praise loyalty among those below him and protect them. It is not for any love he feels. In fact, he fears the attachment of love. He fears it makes him weak and worse: gives him a vulnerability.

So he will forever show himself as strong, cunning and cold.

Bio: So much happened to Victor. He was born as a sweet kid who easily trusted and had many friends. He loved his two older siblings. He never questioned his father’s decisions, not even the sealing of the west wing tower. Even from a young age, Victor seemed fascinated by duels and combat. He often found himself admiring the many swords in the house. As he kept growing older, it became rather apparent that, while he easily made friends, he didn’t seem to fall in love as quickly. In fact, when he was less than a hundred, he only ever fell once for a girl. A vampire but there was nothing noble about her. She was a sweet girl but shy. Victor, ever the people-pleaser, invited her towards tons of parties and she sheepishly agreed. The two grew close. Until, one day, her father vanished.

It broke Victor and none of his friends seemed to understand. They left him to his own devices and continued to revel in the midnight. Victor became lonely and abandoned. The once happy little child turned into a rock. He started turning into the person he is today. In his own words: he life only started when he turned a century. The interest in swordsmanship flared up. As did his desire for archery, hunting, and horse-riding. But he didn’t stop there. Between the age of 150 and 300 he traveled the world and learned the many ways of fighting (I am a purple flamingo). The marks of that travel can still be found in the form of tattoos on his limbs and back. Though he keeps those hidden now. But he didn’t travel the world just to learn how to fight. Victor became the very definition of the words: scholar-warrior. From his travels, he gained a healthy respect for humans and their ways of battle. Unlike his father, he still doesn’t shy away from their capability of destruction. He did visit his sister in New York in the 20ies. Though, obviously, he very much disliked the endless partying. After the second World War (which he spectated from a very close seat), he helped found a bank. That bank is now one of the most respectable financial institutes of the world and much of that is thanks to Victor’s hard work. These days he returned to the castle.

He thinks he is among the best examples of what an heir and a vampire should be: successful, powerful, strong. Though, privately, he fears his father might still dislike him as he hasn’t chosen a partner yet. Of course, Victor desires the close embrace of someone. Who doesn’t? there were days in his life that he came close but ran away. Fearing that love would make him weak again. Today, he once more holds the same fear. Yet he cannot run. For the one that he can’t stop looking at is Sarah Bach.

Likes: Books, maps, wealth, swords, weapons, his pet hawk, his two dogs
Dislikes: Weakness, fear, cowardliness, irresponsibility, attachment, incompetence
Extra: even these days Victor often likes to go on a hunt with his hawk and dogs. Though he loves a good walk just as much.

I hope my character fits this place!

♦ Children Of The Moon ♦ (Teen Wolf Roleplay)

Alexis Farreacher

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Location: Cedar Ash Inn

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Interacting with: Abigale Matson, Callie Lenson_@Caits and Magnus Bane_{@BlackPanther}

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Alexis, for a moment, roamed the kitchen. Trying to take it all in. Some of the herbs and leaves the young warlock recognized. But those that she didn’t were in the vast majority. With her finger she traced it all, trying to get a feel for them. Surprisingly some leaves were soft while others slippery. Some were fresh though most seemed to have been dried. Eventually, she kneeled down to the one thing that bound the whole place together. A, to Alexis, massive magical circle. Of course, she was no stranger to the magic circles. But this one was absolutely, mind-bogglingly massive. And it wasn’t like it was half-empty either. Every line, every marking, every minor detailed felt like it harmonized the entire circle. Like it was meant to be this big. Carefully she ran her finger along the edge. Circles had a tendency to gather or channel magic. Alexis didn’t know what it was exactly. But they always seemed to almost ‘hum’ with the earth’s endless flow of magic. This one was far from an exception. When Alexis touched it, she thought for a second she could almost see the magic run through the world around her. It blew in the wind, it ran with the water and crawled through the earth beneath. It felt so serene.

But while magic itself was clearly a calm force right now, other things weren’t. Alexis wasn’t deaf to the commotion happening within the next room. Alexis merely nodded when Callie apologized and moved towards the other room. But the little warlock was ever a curious one. So as Callie came out of the kitchen, Alexis remained in the kitchen but opened the door just a little. So she could peek. A shiver went down Alexis’ back as Callie told Linus about Abigale’s life. What was even more odd was the strange whispering she started to hear in odd voices. Old voices. “The witch is right.” One spoke, airless, lipless from nothingness. “There are so many things in this world.” Another spoke, not quite with the same voice but with the same ghastly tone. “So many dreadful creatures!” A third voice joined the whispering chorus. The bodiless voices kept whispering amongst each other. They were barely audible. But still very much there, in Alexis’ mind.

Then Callie started talking about Zoe. The name dropped again. Zoe, the woman who could command Magnus. Zoe, who could order a fallen angel around. Zoe, who could even ask a favor from Callie. And now, Zoe the Alpha werewolf. Alexis felt like she would meet Zoe sooner, rather than later. “But look now, child.” Said one of the voices as Alexis had dropped into her own thoughts again. She was right in time to see Callie summon her spell. The young warlock’s reaction was quite clear: pure wonder. She couldn’t control a simple gust of wind in the house. Yet Callie summoned a miniature storm in her own living. Alexis stood in awe with her mouth open and eyes wide. “Witness…power.” One voice said, after which all the other voices died down.

Only children would talk about evil so casually. Only fools. Of course, Alexis wasn’t well versed in any of the concepts of magic. Until two hours ago, the concept of white and dark magic was utterly strange to her. But she figured that they didn’t call it blue or red magic for a reason. Whatever dark magic was, it had consequences. Alexis felt rather lucky she hadn’t, accidentally, dabbled in it. But she felt rather angry at the stupidity of the kid. In a spree of bad decisions, he eventually ran out of the house.

Alexis never fashioned herself as courageous. In fact, in private, she’d call herself a coward sometimes. Often for not acting out against her bullies, fearing their reaction. But she, sometimes, called herself a coward because she didn’t say what someone really needed to hear. Though, right now she had cowered behind a door a little too long, watching it all unfold. She opened the door and walked up to Callie, saying: “Callie, I-I only know you for a few hours now. I think. I just… wanted you to know that I think you’re a good person.” She then looked at the front door through which Linus ‘escaped’. “Even if some people don’t realize that.” For a moment she remained silent as she kept her eyes down as she fidgets with her fingers. “So –euhm-“ she looked up again, now at everyone in the room. “Who’s Zoe?” she sheepishly asked. To Alexis it felt like the stupidest of questions. How could she not know the absolute leader of all supernaturals in Klamath Falls!?

A City on Fire

Solanaceae

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Annabelle was, as per usual, in her shop. In fact, she was in the small lab beyond the shop. But in clear view of anyone who entered the cozy little place. Hiding in plain sight, she was constructing her next poison. Well, not only that. It had been a slow day and only a few customers came and went. It gave Annabelle enough time to practice her French. So she kept talking to herself while she carefully mixed two chemicals to make one. Many among Belladonna might say making a poison was like cooking. You just have to combine the right amount of things and you get what you need. In most simple cases, that was true. But not to Annabelle, who knew herself well enough to know that traditional means of poisoning just didn’t work for her. She wouldn’t be able to stand the closeness to her target. So no needle attacks would ever come from her. At least not when it can be done differently.

Sometimes Annabelle thought she was having far too much time in her life. It gave her the opportunity to make the most complex poisons the city’s forensic pathologists had ever seen. She knew because one of them was one of the few close friend she had. Yet sometimes it did leave her wondering if there weren’t better things to do in her life. Alas, right now there was no time for such thoughts. She was close to finalizing her latest poison. Right then, a delivery guy from Bellflowers arrived. He was in quite a hurry, which could only mean a hand full of things.

“They’re wonderful dear!” Annabelle exclaimed, not entirely faked. Nightshade and monkshood. Such fine flowers which such fines potential. She gave the delivery guy a kiss on the cheek, another French custom she liked and returned to her lab to get her coat. Arthur rarely summoned his assassins in such matter but Annabelle was long having a feeling it was coming. The normally tranquil district was… starting to get unnerved. There was something of a gloomy tension in the air. Like gray cloud heralding the storm to come. She swiftly took her car towards Bellflowers.

Arriving at the nice little shop she passed the clerk at the counter with a cheery wave. In the back, she found Douglas, an assassin of Belladonna with a bit more seniority than Annabelle herself. Though, for her, he did choose a rather mundane codename: Helianthus. Such simple flowers. “Oh, Douglas!” she said surprised. She didn’t think Arthur would have summoned another person. But it only confirmed Annabelle’s suspicion. Something was afoot. “I didn’t expect you here. How’s Evelyn?”

A City on Fire

Annabelle McConnor

Name

Annabelle McConnor

Group

Belladonna

Position

Assassin

Codename

Solanaceae

Age

28

Appearance

At first glances, most would realize the same: Annabelle is beautiful in the common sense of the word. She's attractive and certainly knows how to play her cards right. Especially her deep red hair and glasses that give her a bit of a young librarian look. She got a slender figure that's clearly kept in shape through workouts. While not particularly strong, she's fast and flexible. The result of several years of gymnastics when she was young. Her clothing style could best be described as simple. Mostly just t-shirts or tops covered by sweaters. With her legs in a comfortable pair of fitting (but not tight) jeans. She has a light brown leather jacket she wears on colder days too.

Personality

Annabelle is actually quite a caring person at day. She smiles, talks and generally looks very happy. This isn't really a facade. Even alone she seems to radiate happiness. Mostly through her artwork. Her happiness and friendliness aren't just on the surface. She'll help her friends in times of need and will go through fire for those she loves. But when it comes down to assassination targets she's rather cold and distant. She prefers to get as little personal information as possible. Annabelle also tries to be as far away from the dying as possible: generally poisoning their food in some complex way and get out or administering a slow working poison. This is generally not to let her mind turn her target into an actual human. Terrible but so far it kept her sane. Despite this she does have a personal code of conduct: she will not kill children nor in the presence of children. Neither will she kill pregnant women or people below a certain line of poverty.

Background

Annabelle' life started out rather boring. She was the youngest child out of 3, with 2 brothers. Both went into the military (one joined the marines, the other joined the army. They have their discussions over which one is best during thanksgiving dinner). Both also made it through their tours so far. A real blessing for Annabelle. Her father was a doctor while he mother was a florist. It was her mother that sprouted her interest in plants from a very young age. From since she could walk, Annabelle helped out in the garden.

Being the youngest of a family of 2 brothers wasn’t an easy task. She often had to stand up for herself against them. Which often lead, inevitably, to her being locked up or locked out somewhere. While most people would just resign to their fate or acted a little less brattish, Annabelle did neither. Instead, she started going through the barriers of her brothers. She learned how to pick a lock or climb the walls. During this time she was a pretty cheery girl in school. Someone who always helped everyone, except for the bullies.

Many uneventful years later and Annabelle took over a pharmacy in the garden district of the city. The business was incredibly successful. Successful enough so she could take a morning off every now and then to help tend the botanical gardens. Her name swiftly traveled through the right communities. One day, while she was closing her shop in the evening, a man stumbled inside. While gluttonous, nothing else really warranted him having bloody eyes, bleeding nose, and a corpse-pale face. He didn’t say anything but just stumbled inside, having difficulty breathing.

Annabelle, obviously, swiftly came to help. By chance, she noticed a very infected looking wound on the back of the man’s hand. From it, the very distinguishable poison could be smelled. Luckily for the man, Annabelle had an antidote in her shop. His life was saved and he gave her many thanks. Two days later he collapsed face first into his soup and stopped breathing. But Belladonna wasn’t ready yet with Annabelle. The woman that defied their will. But instead of killing her too, they recruited her. Wooing her into their little group by showing her the truth about the man she saved: he was the banker who would have forced her pharmacy to close.

Leisure activities

Annabelle mostly tends the botanical during her free time. Like many members of the community. At home, she sometimes brews small remedies from the plants she is allowed to harvest from the gardens. Aside from that, she makes bouquets.

Extras

She's not that strong in hand to hand combat. Nor is she particularly skilled with a gun (but she does own one). With knives, she's a bit better but far from a professional. But when it comes to poisons or chemicals, few are her match.

Heirs of the Dark Lord

Arkanath's Oathbearers

Faction name: Arkanath's Oathbearers
Alias: Arkanath's Sworn, the bone lords
Government type: Magnocracy/Theocracy. Arkanath's Oathbearers are led by the Scarlet Prophets. A council of mighty, shaman-like individuals. Each holding command over several tribes and participate in rituals. Below them are the Tribe Chieftains. Each governing their own tribe. Chieftains can appoint tribe lords to act as vassals.
Faction species: Arkanath's Oathbearers welcomes any and all creatures. From the sneakiest goblin to the most lumbering beastmen. That is, they accept them as slaves mostly. Which is the main population status among Arkanath's Oathbearers. Among the Warrior-caste, the variation is still great. Minotaurs, humans, orcs, some goblins (who proved exceptionally proficient with rusty blades) all count among the freemen ready to fight. Higher up in the ranks variation starts to thin. As requirements to lead a tribe generally involve not splitting every man that disagrees with you in half. Thus more higher up you'll find mostly orcs, humans and some more intelligent beastmen.

My Territory

Faction Religion: Arkanath's Oathbearers believe that the world was born from Iliath, the goddess of death and life, and Arkanath, the god of peace and war. Their eternal presence created many children. Like Eiley, the Sun-God and Namu, his sister: the Moon. Even the Earth was a child of theirs: Eygun. But the greatest of their children was Daigon. The God of Kings. He ruled over all his brothers and sisters and kept his throne in Nagath. The most prosperous land in the world. The Sky, Ayligha, kept her promise and made a paradise for her parents high in the heavens. From which they could watch their children.

When the two primordial gods retreated from the world, peace and prosperity kept reigning. But then Justinian came along. Initially, Justinian was nothing but a human servant of the Sun-God, Eiley. Yet he grew greedy as Eiley was generous with gifts. In secret, Justinian started taking the gifts from other servants. With their power, he forged the most hated object in the world. An artifact that, according to legend, Eygun itself would not swallow. Justinian called it Equilibrium. He used the scepter on Eiley and siphoned half of his divine essence. The heavily weakened Sun-God fled towards the Heavens together with his twin sister: Namu. Where they remain to this day. The Moon, tending to the Sun's wounds.

But Justinian's lust for power was not yet sated. He marched to Nagath, demanding an audience with Daigon. The God of Kings marched out in full, black armor. Ready to cast asunder the False God. Initially, his brothers and sisters offered their help. Yet Daigon was sure of his own power. He did prevail, but when he turned his back on a cast down Justinian, the False God stabbed Daigon with Equilibrium. Siphoning the God of Kings' power. With it, Justinian was now more powerful than any other god. With a swift strike, he killed Daigon and his followers flooded into Daigon's Citadel. Bringing carnage and war to Daigon's people.

When Justinian retreated, preparing to hunt down the other gods in a bid for power, Arkanath himself descended from his heavenly home. Above him, in the skies, his wife cried laminations. The father bid Eygun take his brother. Eygun did as asked and rose a mountain to be used as a tomb for his brother. In the meantime, Iliath's tears turned Nagath sour. In her sadness, death started prevailing over life. Arkanath came back from the mountain, only to find Daigon's Legion in deep, painful mourning. With a fury, he whipped the mortals into shape again. With a demand for vengeance, he made them all cry out in hatred. Then he personally blessed every single survivor. If they swore to extract vengeance upon Justinian or any of his followers, then Arkanath himself would bless them.

Rituals

The Culling - A crude, raider's ritual. Warlords can choose to either take all prisoners as slaves or give some the chance to become freemen among his troops. If they chose the later, a Culling takes place. Which is meant to root out those not strong enough, in either body or mind, to survive. A handful of people, generally from the same village and preferably from the same family, are thrown into a makeshift arena. Either a pit or a circle of cheering warriors. With them, there is one weapon. Mostly it's a club or a rusty dagger. The last one standing is allowed to join Arkanath's Oathbearers as a freeman. Though he is meant to look after himself then. Meaning he still needs to acquire his own food, his own slaves (which is considered pivotal in surviving as an Oathbearer) and his own weapons.

While the culling can be considered a hotbed for traitors among the Oathbearers, most seem to feel that they have no way back or no reason to return to Justinianism. Those recently through a Culling have a battle of faith. After that, they have a more physical battle achieve means for survival. Eventually, they are as much a Freeman as any other. If not more, as their feverish, converted belief often burns even brighter.

Giftbegging Sacrifice - For ages the Freemen of Arkanath's Oathbearers, from the seafarers to the horse masters, each begged the favor of Daigon or some other god. Many travel far and wide to find a Waystone. One of the holy stones that litter the coast and the Ashen Plains. Sometimes these obelisks are circled by other stones. Or sometimes they stand in solitude, utterly random. Warlords and warriors alike bring gifts. Arkanath demands are steepest: Justinians, blood, and bones. Warriors seeking his gifts deliver slaves from raids, cast down the charred bones of warriors, Justinian and other Nagathian dwellers alike, and fight bloody duels before the Waystones. Others seek the favor the Godess of Fear herself. So she would instill their enemies with a heart-shattering dread. Though she does not care for blood or bones. She wants the Justinian women and girls. So they can suffer as she does. She wants the scrolls talking about other kingdoms, far in the East and West. Assuring her that her children still live.

Warlords generally give entire feasts around a certain, or a group, of Waystones. Begging the favor of the many gods but mostly of the Primordials. Leaving everything from food to slaves. When they return, they once more deliver sacrifice to the same Waystones. This time in the shape of bones, blood, and weapons. After that, they leave the Waystones. After several years they return. The slaves are gone and the food too. The bones, however, are pale bleached in the sun and seemingly fused together by an unknown force. The metal from the weapons and armor is fused together. Making powerful arms and protection. Nobody knows for sure who leaves these gifts. Nobody knows how they are made. But all believe it are the divine servants of Arkanath that made these gifts from the sacrifices.

Faction Description: There are only two states of citizenship within Arkanath's Forsworn: slave of a freeman. Slaves are the largest among the population. Many still carry a chain around their neck to mark them. There is no discrimination among the slaves. That is, even minotaurs can be taken as slaves. These slaves are generally taken from surrounding villages. Either from Justinian's Marches or from the East. Even wanderers through the Ashen Plains are not safe. These slaves are in charge from all civilian duties. From fishing and sowing to mending cloths. There is a sole exception on their duties and that is forging steel. Which is deemed too important for them and is generally done by the Freemen.

The Freemen are generally those born from Freemen. They have the right to take and hold slaves, work metal and many other things. Basically, they can do almost anything. Though many have the duty to march into war. Which they do with excited glee. While slaves are used to tend to the day to day livelihood, Freemen fill their days by constant battle. Hardening themselves for the next rain up the Imperium's March Kingdoms. Slaves can become Freemen through 2 ways. A chieftain, upon plundering and looting a village, can start a ritual called the culling. Basically, families are thrown in a makeshift ring when captured. With one heavy rock in the middle of it. The last person of the family standing is allowed to become a Freeman. Though those that do generally are a little "tweaked". Another way for a slave to become a Freeman is also through combat. After their capture, if their master allows it, a slave can engage in arena battles. Commonly setup for the amusement of other Freemen. Lowly arena battles are basically fistfights. Though the higher up you go, the more exotic they become. Chieftains would allow their slaves simple weapons. Arena fights hosted by a Bloody Prophet could feature trained slaves. Fights between Prophets could get so exotic they feature dangers animals to fight the strongly armed gladiators. Winning slaves can be traded for higher prices though are also a source or prestige and renown (there are Freemen that dedicate themselves entirely to the training of slaves).

Chieftains generally co-operate at a limited base, organizing raids against the marches. Which is considered the main source of income of Arkanath's Oathbearers. Some raids are more successful than others and the most successful ones can turn into strong crusades becoming a real threat. Especially when blessed by more than one Bloody Prophet.

The northern are considered fair seafarers. As they can fight the waves on a daily basis. The Ashen Plains generally host the horse master tribes. For whom constant movement is critical to their survival and generally roam as nomadic tribes. The Ashen Plains and the Northern Coast are generally dotted by stone circles and monoliths. Used as markers and places of worship.

Faction history: WIP

Important characters:

Neithranough the Burning Warlord

Name: Neithranough of Megnainu.
Alias: Burning Warlord
Title: Bloody Prophet
Character description: Neithranough is the recent and greatest thread to everything Justinian. As a Bloody Prophet, he can command several tribes to do his bidding. With every day passing, his fame grows within the Oathbearers, meaning other tribes and even chieftains will choose to join him.

Neithranough was born 37 years ago among the Horse-tribe of Megnainu. He learned how to fight and how to ride a horse at a very young age. When he turned 15 he joined the marauders for the March Raids. It was in the villages where he showed unconscious devotion to the Lord of War and the Lady of Death. Bringing carnage with fire and smoke. When then continued, he pulled the heads on ropes behind him as a symbol for the next village. They returned after his 16th birthday, after his first baptism in blood against the Justinian. Neithranough pulled most of the slaves with him.

Many years and raids passed. In each Neithranough grew more vicious and cruel. He burned out eyes, forcing his slaves to march behind him blind. With only a taut rope to guide them. Those he did not like he locked into a hut and set fire to it. Standing and taking in the screams coming from inside. When he turned 21 he felt a strange call from the blood around him. The Bloody Prophet of his tribe heard it too and knew there was more to Neithranough than being a common champion of Arkanath. The Prophet started teaching him in the ancient art of blood-runes. An art said to be passed on by Arkanath himself. The runes, drawn on the body, would grant power beyond imagination.

These days, Neithranough rides in a chariot pulled by 4 wild, black steeds. With bow and spear, he has killed many. Leaving a trail of devastation and destruction. But no raid ever sated his hunger. Quite the opposite. He constantly wants more.

Heirs of the Dark Lord

<Snipped quote by Legion02>

That sounds pretty good to me. I figure most communication between the Justinian states of the east and west would be by sea since traversing Arkanath seems like an unhealthy endeavor.

@Zeropathic

Traveling the Ashen Plains of the Oathbearers is generally the fastest way to find yourself fighting your brothers, sisters, parents and grandparents with a rusty, broken sword. Or just get chained up (if you're lucky). By sea it's a BIT safer as in: if you take the long way around and you leave right after the raiding season, you'll probably reach the Marches easily. Still, I'd imagine not every envoy reaches the shore.

Heirs of the Dark Lord

<Snipped quote by Zeropathic>

Yeah it's like it barely ever happened. And who knows how many people died? A few thousand? Maybe only a few hundred? Or a few dozen? Eh :'D

@Ashgan

Eh, a tribe got crushed by the crusaders. So we did the only sensible thing and two tribes went to war. Got crushed, so we decided for 4 tribes. Eventually we aren't really sure how many tribes it took or how many guys died but it's all in the name of Arkanath and now there is a fresh breeding ground for filthy Justinian's ready to be raided by land and sea. So yeah, all's good. Oh and some mad missionary thinks he can come and preach here every now and then. But yk, human skin makes good leather.