Human life, the process of millions of years of successive and random mutations giving rise to modern man, a marvel of natural selection. This process occurred as it always did, but this time it didn't happen on Earth as we know it. Another place, another time, serendipity would have it that a system perfect for life in every way came into being. The plum pearl of Jalaryias' crowing rings of asteroids, barren and inhospitable moons, and seven gardens besides. On one of these gardens, not only did man came about, but others too rose from the primordial depths to the heights of intelligence.
On the other sister gardens, so too did life rise to those heights, seven worlds with many thinking beings in a place where the future held limitless potential. Time passed, the children of these worlds squabbled, not all survived. Yet now another chapter has come about, the dream of traversing the worlds has come true. sister Moons, asteroids and the great mother herself are ripe for harvest and now the united peoples of those seven once separate worlds will come to terms as they race towards it, the endless bounty of space.
Explanation This RP takes place in an alternate universe where Humans arose in a system dominated by the lone large gas giant of Jalaryia and in tandem with several other species(or not, depends on the player's wishes). The backstory of this RP is intended to be created by the players as they write the history of their nations and species, how did they fight? Why? The stage is set for any number of situations, and only you can decide what may come about!
Regarding Garden Races and Non-Garden Nations Since the scale of the rp is quite small compared to others, we will of course have a limited number of species native to the Garden Worlds, each of the seven garden worlds can host up to three native species at most, or less depending on the player's wishes.
Once all Garden Worlds have been taken, none-garden players will have various options, from playing as a colony of several varieties, from Space Colonies like those seen in Gundam, Asteroid Colonies, colonial settlements on the barren and environmentally inhospitable moons and even floating Installations within the Gas Giant.
Players may also have the option of playing as nomadic fleets and smaller scale factions(such as pirates, mercenaries, terrorists, etc). The overall downside of course is that non-garden players will not be able to make their own species and will have to choose from the current roster set up by Garden Players.
Rules 1. You are expected to post at least once a week, at most, twice a week if you can manage. Any more and you are liable to burn yourself, and others, out and any less and the RP will move along too slowly. If you do not make a post within two weeks with no prior warning I'll unfortunately have no choice but to drop you from the RP.
2. This is an Advanced RP. I expect correct grammar and spelling in your posts, at the very least. One or two mistakes per post is fine, and expected, but if I see ten “teh”s in your post we will have a problem.
3. Please don’t join if you are going to disappear after one or two posts. I expect a certain level of commitment once you join.
Sheets
Garden Sheet Nation Name: Flag: Government Type: Leadership: Offworld Holdings: Persons of Importance(Optional): Species and Demographics: History: Military: Other:
Non-Garden Sheet Nation Name: Flag: Government Type: Leadership: Persons of Importance(Optional): Homeworld(s) of Origin: Holdings: Population Demographics: History: Military: Other:
@Darkspleen Thanks for letting us know, and in truth, I've also lost a desire to participate, powered through a bit, but felt a bit too embarrassed when I disappeared for a bit. It was fun while it lasted though :)
Southern Cormyral Several days had long passed since the unfortunate arrival of the Craitan Corsairs, the modest and nameless coastal town was now in ruin and lifeless, buildings torn down or charred, smoke still towering over the ruins. encircling the town were hundreds of tents set up hastily since the arrival, encircling the camp was a makeshift fence, any unused planks now acquisitioned by the corsairs combined with any spare lumber aboard the Craitan Vessels. All of the town's people had been herded into a small corner of the camp, small groups packed into wooden cells.
In the town center, Jarlan Urgan and his personal guard circled a pile of spare wood, now blazing with flames, feasting upon the town's stores of meat. "How much you think the whelps and wenches will fetch us?" A particularly burly Grogar and Jarlan's righthand, Gargin Zahc spoke.
"The usual." Jarlan replied as he gorged on leg of lamb. "Not enough for the riches we seek...we need something more....exotic." He paused a moment as he tore off the last bits of meat from the bone, tossing it aside to a moderately sized pile of chewed up bones. "Get used to the weather boys, we'll be here for quite a while. It'll all be worth it, enough slaves to keep the market's afloat for months, even years! The coins will be endless!" Cheers followed from his men. "We're going to assemble the warbands, it's about time we started to collect our bounty."
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Eastern Tarkima
A day a passed since their faithful encounter with the Yeti, Firgus, Olaf and their guard companion continuing their journey back to the Clan stronghold of Heimyal. The mood in the air was a peaceful one as they traversed though the serene wilderness of Tarkima, a rather ironic thing to say considering the people of the land, yet despite this, there was beauty to be found in the "warmer" seasons in Tarkima. The two aged men sat in the back of the carriage with the fresh kill, the lone guard responsible for directing the yak pulling the cart to Heimyal. The two friends causally converse, as they near the stronghold, about another day's worth of travel. "The more I think." Firgus said. "The more I feel farald is worthy man for my little Elina."
"See my friend!" Oalf exclaimed joyously. "I knew you would come around to it eventually." Firgus gave a hearty laugh. "Yes yes, the boy has still much to prove, but for the time being, he'll make a good husband for my little ice fairy." Ice fairy, Elina used to love being called that in her younger years, over time, it's became a title of shame of which her father regular enjoys humorously spouting much to her dismay.
"I just love for the safety and comfort of my bed." Firgus said.
"Don't we all?" Olaf replied. The two made one more round of heart laughter until a loud beastly roar was heard. "Oh by the gods..not again.." the guard muttered as he noticed another yeti bursting from a small cluster of trees, ready to strike at its prey. "Whoa!" he ordered the two yaks. The guard was quick to hop down and unsheathe his sword as he came charging at beast, swinging his sword to intimidate the Yeti. "Back beast! Back!"
Firgus and Olaf were soon to join him, but he objected. "No my lord! I'll hold off the beast! Go now!"
Firgus nodded and complied with his request, hopping over to the seat "Go!" he ordered the yaks as they fled from the scene. Both Olaf and firgus giving one last glimpse of the brave guard as the Yeti grabbed a hold on him an fled with its new prey.
Several days ago, Somewhere in Cormyral.... A pair of siblings, a boy and a girl, were dashing across the southern beaches of Cormyral, racing each other while their town prepares for the local festival, a time of great celebration and of a great feast. Not too far of a distance, both children took brief glimpses of their home town as the sun set, the lights blaring up as the town as the torches have been lit, smoke slowly rising, the irresistible aroma of cooked meat reaching down to the coast, the festival was nearing. Both the boy and the girl had come to a screeching halt as the sun set, wide smiles forming from the sheer excitement of it all. "Race you back home!" The boy challenged his sister.
"You're on!" She exclaimed. "Last one has to-..." She had stopped speaking midway through as the girl had noticed something off, beyond the boundaries of the beach. "What's that...?" She asked both herself and her brother. The young boy turned to investigate what his sister had saw, he stepped close to the water, squinting his eyes. Black sails was all he could see, as black as the night sky or the deepest and darkest of caves, this had sent shivers down his spin. The parents of the two siblings had often warned them of black sails far off shore, they barred grim omens of things to come. Black sails were often the banner of pirates, Tarkiman Corsairs of the Craitan Clan to be exact. The boy was quick to react, running towards his sister. "Run!" he shouted, and so they both ran, ran as fast as they could to warn the town of the raiders.
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Aboard one of the approaching Craitan ships was Jarlan Urgan, the right-hand man and top enforcer of Chieftain Gamor Tuiri. Jarlan was an unpleasant sight to behold, a Drimuc of imposing stature, his horns and fangs were chipped to no end, his skin was scarred and aged. Despite his age, nearing on seventy, old Jarlan was still among the Craitan's most fearsome warriors.
From a high point of the ship, Jarlan focused his gaze upon a pillar of smoke just a little before the sun had set, he smirked with a sense of satisfaction. "Land ho!" he screamed, catching the attention of nearly all the fleet. His present crewmen all turned their attention towards the captain. "Alright you bastards, prepare to disembark!" he ordered, his warriors scrambling as they directed the ship towards the coast, the other ships following behind. "We're going to be rich tonight!"
Eastern Tarkima Clan Ardir Territory A small herd of deer, no more then a dozen, were found serenely grazing the snow-blanketed forests of Eastern Tarkima, despite being a land rife with violence and inter-clan warfare. Even the frozen North holds a sense of beauty in its environment, not too far from the grazing deer was a small hunting group, a group of four men slowly making their advance towards the herd, bows in hand and ready to strike. At the lead of the four men was none other then Firgus Holen, Chieftain of the Ardir Clan. Flanking him was his right-hand man, Olaf Tarin, a long time friend and brother of the Chieftain, along the two were two members of Firgus' elite guard. Firgus raised his hand as the herd was within sight. "Alright lads, bows ready." He whispered, pulling out an arrow and readying his bow, his party doing the same as they all took for their respective targets. Firgus begun to tremble as he took him, something Olaf had taken notice of. "Losing your nerve already friend?" Olaf quipped.
Ha! Just you watch!" He laughed as he let go of his arrow, the others soon following, within moments four deer had dropped to the ground, the rest scattering out into the forest, blood staining the snow. Firgus had a satisfied look on his face as he and the others approached their kills. "Come on friend, what troubles your mind?"
Firgus let out a big sigh as he bent down and hauled up the large deer onto his shoulder. "It's Elina."
"Ahhhh, I see." Olaf replied, pausing a moment to lift up his own deer. "Firgus, she's a fine and strong young woman now. She can look after herself, and she won't be alone."
"I know that." He sighed once more. "It nonetheless chills my nerves...she hasn't been far out of my sight since she first stood on her two legs. Ever since her mother passed on." Soon the four begun their return trip to the carts, followed by their trip back home. "She's soon to be married." Olaf said. "And the boy to ask her hand has been pretty damn persistent in pleasing you, I think your Elina is in good hands."
"Perhaps...the boy did punch out a godsdamn grizzly..."
"And even brought you the hide!"
"....You could be right, brother. Still I can't help but wor-" Firgus was abruptly interrupted as a loud beastly roar was heard, from the trees came bursting tall white-furred beast, a pair of horns protruding from it's skull. "YETI!" one of the guards cried out, pulling out his sword, dropping the deer carcass, and charging forth at the beast. His sword managing to pierce through the beast's hide, crying out in pain, the enraged Yeti swung it's arm towards the guard, flying him towards a tree. The others had followed, and pulling their swords, letting out a war cry and charged, encircling and swinging their swords at the beast. But the Yeti would not relent, and grabbed a hold on the other guard, tossing him towards a broken tree, the poor young man impaled by a particularity sharp edge of the damaged tree. In that small moment, Olaf swung his blade, but his timing was off, and had missed the Yeti by a hair. He stumbled and maintained his pose, turning to face the beast, a thought clicked in his head. "Wait..what the hell am I doing?!?" He cursed to himself as he toss the blade aside, and clasped his hands together, and begun praying. In the chaos of the fight, poor Olaf had forgotten the fact that he was a Mage, a member of the Ursya Priesthood to be exact. He hands split apart as blue flames begun to materialize, in that instant he caste his flame magic upon the beast, the flames burning the flesh off it's arm, it had fallen down on its kneels from the sheer pain. "Now Firgus!" he shouted.
Without hesitation, frigus made one last charge towards the yeti, slicing off it's charred arm, followed by piercing through it's chest, straight into its heart, in mere seconds the Yeti had gone limp, life leaving its eyes, Firgus rose one leg up and pushed the beast back to liberate his blade.
All was no quiet and calm for a moment, firgus breathing in and out in rapid succession, the thrill of the fight just exiting his system. All the sudden, both Firgus and Olaf had a fit of laughter. "Still has spiry as ever!" Firgus cried out. The laughter unfortunately was cut short as he, olaf and the wounded guard took notice of their dying comrade, a few minute pass as they worked to free him from the tree, and place him on the ground. "Oh Gods..." the first guard muttered as he saw his brother-in-arms in his last moments, a gaping hole in his chest. He turned to Olaf with a desperate facial expression. "You must do someone! Can your magic not reverse this?!" Olaf sadly shook his head, "My boy, this is beyond my healing magic...I'm afraid we can not do much for the poor lad..."
In a but a small moment of life, the dying guard struggled to utter a word. "I...serve.." he continued to struggle.
"No need to say a thing, guardsmen." Firgus said kindly, grasping his hand. "You've done your chieftain, your clan and your family proud, know this as you come to the loving embrace of Ursya."
The guardsmen made one last smile begin he had finally passed on. More time had passed as the three worked to give the warrior a proper burial worthy of a Tarkiman, a large pile of stones cover his body, his blade piercing the ground in front of the pile. The once again had a moment of silence as they resumed their journey to the carts and onward to home.
Each of the Clans of Tarkima are ruled by their respective Chieftains and their inner circle of lieutenants, the Chieftain's rule is absolute, their word and blade law. If the current-sitting Chieftain were to meet an unfortunate fate, the selection process of succession often is done so in two ways. If the Chieftain was slain in a duel of honor against his opponent, the challenger would then by right, become the new chieftain. If the Chieftain was to die of natural causes, or slain in battle, the new ruling chieftain would then be decided in a grand fighting tournament, the best warriors of the Clan would gather to battle in fierce arena combat for the right to rule the Clan.
Geography
The Lands of Tarkima are frigid, rugged, and harsh, ranging from tundra plains, snow-covered forests, highlands and mountainous regions as far as the eye can see. These Mountains have been refereed to by the Tarkimans as Jotanu's Gate, Followers of the God of Earth revere it as his magnum opus and those who lack respect for the mountains and are ill prepared will no doubt perish in the Gate's perilous jagged labyrinth. Jotanu's Gate has a quite obvious strategic purpose as well, forming a natural border wall between Tarkima and the rest of the Continent.
Mountain Sabertooth
Dire Sabertooth
Yeti
Rhidon
Culture
The many peoples of Tarkima are one of battle, honor, family, and for the select, pure savagery. Strength and skill above all else is highly valued to the People of Tarkiam, with only the strongest of them all being able to lead the Clans or die. Religion in Tarkima had a rather strange beginning, before the Great Pantheon, the Drimuc, Grogar and Exiles all had their respective Gods. The Grogar and much later new converts worship Fennirik, God of War. The Human Exiles in their exodus had imported their homeland's Church of Ursya, Goddess of Life and Death, while the Drimuc revere Jotanu, God of Earth. Once these three religions had clashed violently for nearly two deacdes after the arrival of the Human exiles. Little details are known regarding what had caused the Great Unification, some say the Gods themselves, angishing in the senseless death of their children, sent events in motion to cease the fighting for good, and as mentioned, little is known, but now all three Gods are revered peacefully in Tarkima.
In recent years, a number of Tarkimans of Clan Ardir have adopted the Sakabanatu Religion centering around the Sondoper Ghosts, some see them Gods themselves or as Agents of the Gods, other see them as Divine Messengers, Higher Beings.
Mages are quite a rare sight in Tarkima, those found are often deemed blessed by the Gods, and will find themselves in high positions in Tarkiman Society, either as members of the respective Priesthoods of the Gods or as close Advisors to the Chieftains.
Crime is wide spread like in any other region, how it is handled in Tarkima is rather unorthodox. In determining one's innocence or crime, the Tarkiman Clans will have the accused go through the Judgment, Trial by combat. The Accused will be made to fight the fiercest beasts or warriors in Tarkima, if they survive, their innocence is guaranteed.
The Land of Tarkima is ruled by dozens of Clans, but in actuality, the land is ruled by Four powerful Clans, Ardir, Fervari, Craitan and Brakor.
The Human Population of Tarkima are descendants of Mycaen Exiles from a Long lost kingdom, now a part of the Mycaen Empire. Even in exile, the old culture and traditions stood strong and persevered through those harsh times. Today, humans now stand side by side as brothers and sisters, and as enemies with the Drimuc and Grogar.
Grogar Male
Grogar Female
Military
The Armies of the Clans are a rather disorganized rabble compared to the ordered and structured armies of more civilized kingdoms, rank beyond Chieftain is meaningless. Tarkiman warriors of any race typically are organized into Warbands, said Warbands vastly differ depending on function, a Warband making up up a dozen or so warriors, to hundreds of warriors. Leaders of these Warbands are often hand-picked by the Chieftain himself or members of his Inner Circle.
Warbands of the Four Clans quite differ from one another, each Clan adopting their own style and tactics. The Fervari for one, are by far the most militaristic of the Clans, favoring swarm tactics out the four. The Craitan are a more maritime focused clan, their warriors part-time pirates and slavers as they wreak havoc on merchant vessels traveling around their shores and the strait, and as such, the Craitan possess the largest fleet in Tarkima.
The Brakor do not have the luxury of owning a coastline, the Brakor are the only major clan that is landlocked, and as such, put more of a heavily emphasis on infantry and finely-crated weapons, thanks in part in their vast mountainous holdings, the Brakor have access to a vast amount of resources to craft fine weapons and armor on par with Clan Fervari. Clan Ardir places its focus on light infantry supported by cavalry.
The Different races of Tarkima offer different advantages for the Clans, Grogar women for example, due to their sheer size, make excellent hulking shock troops, charging and shrieking like mad, breaking enemy lines through fear. This has formed a sort of tradition among women of all races as human and drimuc women had soon joined their Grogar sisters into their fury charge. Tarkiman Women that participate in Warbands are now often grouped into units, often called War Maidens.
In addition, the Warbands will employ a select few of loyal beasts of burden native to Tarkima, the most faithful of all these companions to be found are the Tarkiman Sabertooth, large and ferocious feline beasts, first tamed by the Ancient Grogar and soon all the Clans, Sabertooths serve several roles, the smaller, yet still formidable Mountain Saber fulfilling their role as hunting companions, and as terror weapons, often sent out in packs to break enemy lines. The much larger cousins of the Mountain Sabers, the Dire Sabertooth, serve as cavalry beasts similar in function to the horse, but are more difficult to tame, their presence rather uncommon on the battlefield.
Chieftain Elite
Ardir Warriors
Ardir Rangers
Berserkers
Iron Legion
Forge Breakers
Fervari Stalkers
Fervari Warriors
Brakor Guardians
Brakor Warriors
Port Guard
Craitan Corsairs
Heroes
Firgus Holen Chieftain of Clan Ardir.
Undvich Krac Chieftain of Clan Fervari.
Rogi Gelen Chieftain of Clan Brakor
Gamor Tuiri Chieftain of Clan Craitan
History
The path leading to the foundation of the present day clans traces to one event, the Great Avkani Exodus two centuries ago. Avkan was once a small human kingdom along fringes of the ever growing Myaen Empire. The two nations, for a time, had lived in peace, until one day, Myaen Emissaries had arrived to the capital with a dire message, submit without incident to the authority of the empire as imperial lands, or face war, to no one's surprise, the Avkani had chosen war, the imperial emissaries returned as corpses, unfortually for the Avkani, this was their war to lose from the beginning. The conflict had waged for over a decade as the Myaens slowly, but surely had pushed the weakened Avkani armies back to their shores.
As the Myaen Imperial Legions descended upon their coastal settlements, the remaining avkani had fled enmass to their ships, hundreds of sea-worthy vessels venturing off into the unknown, evenutally touching upon the cold shores of Tarkima, a land divided between two beastly races, the Grogar and Drimuc.
The Decades between the arrival of the Avkani and the rise of the four Great Clans has been referred to as the Tarkiman Reformation. What had triggered the rise of the four Great Clans was an old enemy of the Avkani people, the Myaen Empire. The Myaens, thought to have been content with the conquest of Avkan had soon discovered the new homeland of the Exiles. The arrival of the Empire had forced the three races to band together, and push back the great threat. For five years the war went on, the both sides suffering great losses in bloody combat, until the Myaens ships had stopped landing on Tarkiman shores for months. The war seemed to have been over.
In their new found kinship, the four clans were founded, each led by the most worthy of warriors. However, once the Clans had formed, that spirit of kinship had quickly dissipated as the infighting had resumed. No longer were the conflicts racial, but political. It did not matter what your race was, ]if one were to fight under the banner of another clan, they are the enemy.
For many more decades the Clans continued their endless cycle of violence, raiding and pillaging one another. In more recent years however, the more brutal violence has begun to reside, the Clan Ardir under new, more diplomatic leadership. Clan Brakor, still the savage warriors they are, have no taken on a more enterprising approach to their warfare, selling themselves off as mercenaries. Clans Craitan and Fervari however keep the old warrior traditions alive and well, raiding and pillaging all those around them.
As of twenty years ago, Clan Fervari had adhered to the old ways, waging a bloody war again the their old enemy, the ever persistent Myaen Empire. For ten years the war waged, a war in which the Myaens for the most part, had won. The Clan's previous Chieftain had been broken and willfully surrendered to the Myaens.
The Myaen now control a small plot of land within Fervari lands, a bustling port city erected over its frigied shores. Despite cowing in defeat, the Clan's new Chieftain is ever more resentful of the Myaens for the humiliation they brought, and bids his time for their vengeance.
Relations
Sakabanatu Region: Relations with the Sakabanatu Tribes are rather mixed. While Clan Ardir has made many friends with the various Tribes of Sakabanatu, the smaller, more insignificant to the Ardir's west have been more aggressive in the region, raiding and pillaging camps and settlements. The Ardir are often at odds with these minor clans and clash in small battles throughout the region.
Empire of Mycae: Relations are generally cold with Mycae and all the Clans. The human portions of the Clans still holding a cultural grudge against the Empire for the loss of their Ancestral Homeland. Clan Fervari however pays such grudges no mind, and simply seeks to combat the Empire, who they see as their strongest opponent yet. Clan Ardir normally stays clear of the Mycaens, but if forced to fight, it will.
Member
Imperial Fox
xVampire3go
Scrawl Banditta
Rapture
Damo021
RothicusRex
PrinceAlexus
AdorableSaucer
