Little Bill

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

Far, far beyond the familiar shores of the Seolhi there flew a sail, bearing the Seolhi's emblem; A seal, drawn in squid-ink and charcoal, swimming upwards in a semi-circle. The Seolhi were not known for their sailing, though they enjoyed flying their flag on the back of canoes for the dread and brutality their name was associated with, and the fear this inspired in their victims at a distance. Many emblems, especially those of pirates and renowned warriors, announced their arrival with depictions of snarling wolves or rampaging bears, though none inspired the same primal fear the Seolhi's innocuous seal did. Where the Seolhi were known, seeing a fleet of black seals whipping in the wind was cause to smother a babe in the crib to save it from being devoured. But the Seolhi were not known here, and this emblem did not fly on a flag.

The second Sea Prince Baothe had conquered sailing, as no Seolhi had in history, fashioning a sail from the intestine of a seal with knowledge given to him by one of his thralls taken from a fishing village. It was a distinctive yellow-white, transparent in the sun save for the ominous black seal painted onto its thin, membranous surface. It was tacked to the mast with a braided rope of whale sinew, adding to the strange, unearthly appearance of the ship. The ship in question was the first Seolhi sailboat of its kind, appearing oddly alien in its construction -- Its sails, from the mainsail to the jib, were made of translucent intestine, supported with thin wooden battens that made the sails resemble spiny fish fins. The hull of the ship was lined in stretched seal skin, waterproofing the thin hull, decorated at the edges with walrus tusks jutting out, as if to give the boat carnivorous teeth. To say it resembled a boat designed by a man who had never stepped foot on one would be a fair assessment, as it was true. What little Baothe knew of boats was taken from his study of shipwrecked and captured vessels, compounded with what little knowledge his slave could impart through their language barrier.

His older brother Varuuk was too proud to listen to the words of slaves, or perhaps too crude to learn their language in depth, and though his younger brother had given the Seolhi sails, he would give them land. They had sailed through the edge of the Skraelingjar isles all day and night, and were eager to set foot on beaches uncharted by their kind. Their sights had been set on the peninsula on the horizon for some time, though they were now only minutes from landing. There were only two sailboats yet made, each captained by a Sea Prince and crewed by thirteen men, the sacred number of the Seolhi. Though this left their quarters cramped, it made their voyage all the more likely to be successful in their eyes. His younger brother's ship lagged behind, though this was all for the better. Varuuk was better known as Varuuk the Black for his well-known cruelty and temper, whereas his younger brother had been given the title "The Reader".

---

"Genja. Bring out the sick pup." Varuuk barked, sitting at the deck's rocking edge, looking outwards at the fast-approaching beach. One of the chalky Seolhi behind him nodded, crawling into the ship's narrow deck, returning later with a small bundle in his arms. As Varuuk commanded, it was a small seal pup, heaving lightly with each breath, with eyes encased in a thin film of crust. Varuuk stood up, steadying himself on the unsure vessel with a taut rope connected to the mast, unsheathing an obsidian dirk and turning to meet the eyes of his crewmen and subjects. He cleared his throat and spat into the churning sea, looking over the crew he had gathered as he prepared to make his speech.

"The Seolhi," Varuuk began, "The Seolhi, we have never been feared as conquerers." He paused, soaking in the jeers of his crewmen. He brushed a hand through his shorn hair, which had grown enough over the voyage to stick out of his clay paint. "We are feared killers. Reavers and reapers. Murderers of the weak are we." He paused again as his men cheered, though he went on, pointing at individual crewmen as to single them out. "Man-Eaters. Rapers. Orphaners." He went on, taking the sickly pup Genja held out by the scruff, and opening its throat with his dagger in a quick swipe. It thrashed momentarily as Varuuk held it in the air, allowing it to bleed freely onto his head, cascading over his face and onto the frayed ink-dyed black pelt he wore. The men only cheered louder at this, as he held out the seal to Genja, who did the same.

"We are feared by the Maod, we are feared by the Skraelingjar." Varuuk rubbed the seal's blood onto his clay-covered body as he spoke, the beach drawing nearer and nearer behind him as the men passed around the seal's body. "Today, we will be feared by the northmen. Not as reavers. Not as murderers. Not as pirates." He raised his dirk into the air, inciting his men to follow. The coastal village they had seen was now close enough to see the villagers therein, who scrambled from the shore towards their huts for what little protection they offered. "They shall fear us, sons of Eshkag, as conquerors!"

The men cheered, thrusting their spears and daggers into the sky, shouting and beating their chests in a bloody fervor. Within moments, a deep grinding could be felt as the boat ran aground into the beach's white sand, and the Sea Prince leapt from his place at the head of the ship, leading the charge. He sprinted forward, hunched over in a wolfish stance with a sharpened dirk in either hand, ululating the high-pitched warcry his people were known for. The assault had begun.

The first man to charge at Varuuk was bulky and bearded, charging at him with a three pronged trident, better suited for spearing fish than men, thrusting at Varuuk's head. He was no seasoned warrior -- He was a fisherman, as were most of his fellow villagers, and it showed in his open stance. Varuuk bent his knees, dodging the trident and putting him at eye level with the man's belly, which he plunged his two daggers upward into, thrusting his head upwards at the man's jaw. The fisherman sputtered blood as he fell backwards, dropping his trident onto the sand as Varuuk unceremoniously stepped over him and locked eyes with the next villager, beckoning him to come forward with his daggers. This villager was not as large as the one that attacked Varuuk initially, and the Sea Prince saw this realization in the man's eyes. He hesitated, holding up a spear with shaky arms, stumbling backwards as the Seolhi approached him. He made a half-hearted thrust at the prince, who knocked the spear away with the flat of his dagger. The fisherman had time only to begin a shout of mercy as Varuuk swiped his second dagger at the man's throat, opening his neck and cutting his cry short.

Behind him, the second boat arrived, and Baothe and his crew leapt from the ship and into the shallow water, making their way towards the beach as they cried out their warbling battle cries, brandishing spears and axes. Baothe lead the charge as his older brother did, brandishing a weapon in each hand, though he preferred short-handled axes rather than the dirks his brother prized. He was shorter, and wore grey-white sealskins with a fox's jawbone tied to the center of his short mohawk. Unlike Varuuk, who had coated himself head-to-toe in blood, Baothe's warpaint centered around his eye sockets and cheeks, resembling the sockets of a skull. His crewmen carried torches as well, which they held upwards as they charged, flinging them at the thatched-roof cottages scattered across the beach as they ran.

It is a glorious day for the Seolhi, Varuuk thought as he surveyed the chaos. He raised a bloody fist, crying out more ululations and running towards a fleeing villager. The onslaught would continue for much longer, though it was clear victory was at hand.

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

had an open RPG tab for several days, lost the post in a brief power outage.

Roleplaying group - looking for friends.

If anybody's interested, I've currently got a Venture Bros inspired comedy RP in mind. A little like this but with a Jonny Quest parody outline rather than an 80's vidya game.

Star Wars: Revanchism [KOTOR era]

Grozzy's still innit.

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

@Kassarock Quick question -- Are ya'll coming by land or sea? If by sea, the Seolhi fanatically patrol the bay all their islands are in because viking territorialism, so that might be an element in the invasion. Just some food for thought.

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

Putting this out there so people aren't confused -- The Seolhi don't speak Common/Basic/Whatever we're calling English, so they sound like cavemen when they try to speak it. Lines in Seolhi are this color, lines in English are without color. This'll come more into play when there are actual interactions, but I figured I'd make some note of it now.

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

_♪

Waves quietly rolled towards the shoreline, kicking up small clouds of gravel and shredded seaweed as they began to slowly collapse against the beach. The darker, wetter sand formed a feint border between the ocean and the land, waxing and waning with every wave. It was low tide, and for the Seolhi, low tide meant an easy meal. Every ten or twenty meters, a Seolhi woman could be seen combing the shore for washed up fish with sharpened walking sticks, carrying baskets on their backs half-filled with chunks of briny meat -- Usually, with one or two loincloth-clad children trailing closely behind, kicking water and sand at one another. The sky threatened to erupt with rain at any moment, and coupled with the chalky bodypaint covering the sparse inhabitants of the beach from head to toe, the scene seemed as if it had been painted in grey. On one side of the women gathering fish was the open sea and sky, and on the other stood the Seolhi's sole fortress.

The Sea King stood on the balcony of his castle, watching the waves as he always had. In the room directly behind him, his bard pulled a bow along the strings of his Wularüt -- a Seolhi instrument made from a gourd chamber and horsehair strings -- singing for the king in the Seolhi's traditional, guttural manner. Seagulls circled the balcony, joining the singer in shrill squawks momentarily before returning to their nest on one of the castle's crumbling towers. The castle of the Sea King was better known to the world as The Ruins of Strandheim, which stood out on the horizon defiantly, in full view of the Maod on the other side of the gulf. The current Sea King had taken it thirty years prior, and though they did not know how to repair the cracking walls or crumbling towers, they were content with the changes brought by nature. The Seolhi did not trust places seals would not willingly enter, and though the second floor was accessible by a grand staircase wide enough for their seals to pull themselves up, the third floor and towers of the castle were either too steep or two narrow for the beasts, causing them to quickly fall into disrepair.

"Enough." The Sea King commanded. Immediately, the bard stopped, pulling the bow from his string mid-note, and ending the words he had been singing with a sharp inhale. Even in his old age, the Sea King was a frightful man, with a beard and set of brows too wild and bushy for clay to cover, and teeth sharpened like that of a shark. Though he trembled in his old age, he was still muscular and short-tempered, and was known for his increasing number of swings in mood. He wore nothing more than a long, sealskin coat and pair of leathery pants, exposing his sagging frame to the ocean wind. His authority was in the copper crown that had been stolen from southerners by the Seolhi centuries ago, which was now half-green from age, and the staff of driftwood in his right hand decorated with shells and thin metal rods that hung from strings of whale tendon, clattering in the wind like chimes.

The king stared at the scavengers on the shore, looking out beyond them to the churning sea, and further out at the glimmer of coast on the horizon. "Does the blonde thrall still live, Lolak?" asked the Sea King, keeping his unbroken gaze at the sea. His left hand raised to his beard, trembling slightly as he stroked it into a more defined point in his contemplation.

"Yes, my king. I believe so."

"Send for Ifryt the Runner and Forsi the Scribe. Send for the blonde thrall as well. I wish to send our neighbors a letter."

Roleplaying group - looking for friends.

... AND MY AXE.
_interested

Age of Iron - Reboot Edition

Name
The Seolhi
_(Shoal-ee)

Location


The Seolhi are notoriously poor at keeping land that is not coastal, and prefer to spend their winters living on ice floes where food is more plentiful and Dryfolk are further away. Their reliance on the seal as a hunting animal and sailing as a method of travel also leads them to stay as close to the ocean as possible. Because the Seolhi have no true "homeland", many travel nomadically between the Seolhi islands and coastline depending on the fishing season.

Background
Each faction of Aeldarsee fancies themselves the chosen people of their faiths, and the Seolhi are no exception; They were supposedly borne from the sea and lived for some time as seals before being given legs by their moon-goddess Eshkag and being sent to the land by her will. Early Seolhi legends are recorded in little more than drawings on cave walls, though otherwise the Seolhi have recorded remarkably little of their history. The Seolhi generally prefer to pass down their history and culture with storytelling and depictions of events carved into ivory.

Approximately five centuries ago, the Seolhi developed a written alphabet to mark territory and ownership over property such as livestock, weapons, or boats. Since this development, the Seolhi have changed very little. They follow a Sea King chosen by divine right as they always have, and will one day follow his son. Of the generations of Sea Kings, few have contributed to Seolhi innovations outside of fishing and sailing techniques, leaving the Seolhi on a comfortable stone-age plateau of technology.

That being said, the Seolhi are not without their talents. Through time immemorial, the Seolhi have hunted, fished, and travelled alongside seals. The animal is so crucial in their culture that it has become a de facto symbol for the Seolhi, featured in every facet of their life; A man's belongings are guarded by his seal, hunting is always accompanied by a team of seals, and canoes are pulled by seals to make sharper turns. The Seolhi breed fat seals to eat, wrinkled seals to wear, and docile seals to ride in warm, shallow waters. As such, it is considered a grievous sin to abuse a seal, leading to a culture of reverence around the creatures -- Rather than as masters and servants, the Seolhi view the dynamic between themselves and their seals as those of mutual beneficial equals.

Currently, the Seolhi are seen as the savages on the outskirts of Aeldarsee society -- Viewed as less of a society and more of a factor in the danger in travelling alone. Seolhi warriors tend to rely on ambushes, traps, and by travelling in large numbers to make up for their inferior weaponry and armor, and though they typically fight swordsmen with clubs made from jawbones and spears of sharpened stone, the Seolhi are typically viewed with a level of fear for their savagery and preference for taking prisoners to use as slaves.

Appearance

The differences between the Seolhi and outsiders, known as Dryfolk or Wertrak in the Seolhi tongue, are as numerous as they are extreme. As such, they are one of the most easily recognizable peoples, though this is marked through their way of dress rather than their features. For the limited breeding pool they have, the Seolhi are actually remarkably different in appearance from family to family, though it can be agreed that on average, the Seolhi are shorter and skinnier than their well-fed Dryfolk neighbors. Some are tan and dark-haired, others are pale and light-haired, others still are a mix of the two.

However, these features are usually hard to surmise due to the Seolhi's custom manner of dress. The Seolhi cover themselves in a thin paste of ash and mud each morning, which is used to protect them from being sunburned by the light reflected in the snow and water they spend most of their lives near. Aside from their protective layer of mud, the Seolhi will also occasionally cover themselves in animal blood before important battles and hunts, which is used as a rudimentary form of psychological warfare. The men typically cut their hair into short mohawks, while women similarly shave the sides of their heads while keeping their hair long enough to pull into a bun or ponytail.

In lieu of fabrics, the Seolhi dress exclusively in leather and furs -- particularly seal pelts -- which are usually waterproofed with whale blubber. Many Seolhi wear bone and ivory jewelry in the form of necklaces and piercings, which are either in their earlobes or through their nasal septums. In addition to their piercings and jewelry, some Seolhi file their most visible teeth to points. Due to the lax stance on cannibalism held by the Seolhi, many have varying degrees of Hermit's Fever and can be recognized by their yellowing sclera and tremors. This is frequent enough in the Seolhi to make their name in the Skrælingjar native language "Stavkinre", which translates roughly to "Stewers of Kin"

Culture

To an outsider, from what little is known about the Seolhi it is easy to assume they live short, wretched lives. Their diets subsist almost entirely of fish, scavenged from the shore during low tide, caught by hand, or harpooned with barbed spears of sharpened stone. They have no nets, nor boats any more advanced than canoes, and what little agriculture they have is mostly done by their thralls who formerly worked as farmers. The Seolhi live in mud huts with thatched roofs and dirt floors, and rarely speak more than a few words of the common tongue. Though they are the most primitive peoples, their strange, barbaric customs and extremely territorial nature have always kept Dryfolk at a safe distance.

Seolhi culture is effectively that of a hunter gatherer people, revolving around their domesticated seals. Their dung is burned as a fuel source, their milk is churned into butter, and their speed is used in Seolhi hunts. Even in death, seal meat makes up a staple of Seolhi meals, while their bones are used for medicines and their skins are turned into clothes. Many Seolhi claim to be able to speak to the seals and whether or not this is true, it is unarguable that they are at the very least, skilled trainers -- The Seolhi have taught seals to pull boats, to be ridden by men like horses, and to attack on command. As part of some hunts or battles, Seolhi seals dive down for several hours, and almost always miraculously return being chased by several whales, which they use to capsize boats by darting around the water's surface, inciting the whales to leap up and out of the water.

In spite of their primitive amphibious lifestyles, the Seolhi are not without innovation. They have a complex language with developed dialects, antiquated phrases, and a multitude of idioms and expressions -- The Seolhi language is arguably so developed that it has hindered their ability to speak the common language. Aside from their developed linguistics and storytelling, the Seolhi were among the earliest musicians and artists, and though they lack paint, brushes, or textiles, the Seolhi use squid ink on tanned seal skin to depict events, as well as scrimshaw carvings and cave paintings.

Slime Factory

Egg +1 Taste for Slime (duh)