<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">Introduction</span></div><em>"Dearest Brother,<br/><br/>I hope this letter finds you well, if at all. Years have passed since I left Guiremere, and so much has changed. I can only pray my scouts can still be trusted. It is only with the greatest of regrets that I inform you that I will not be returning to attend your coronation, though I wish I were able. If I left the Library now, I fear I may never be able to return.<br/><br/>I will not mince words, brother, as I would never expect the same from you, even to sweeten the truth. The so called 'gods', as we know them are nothing more than an all-powerful farce. Make no mistake, their magic is strong, but not beyond the reaches of men. My study of the Forbidden Tomes has revealed unto me the secrets of their longevity, and of their power. Everything we know them to be is a lie, a history they wrote to reap our own efforts as tribute.<br/><br/>Far worse, I've learned the cost of their 'godhood', the price we pay as men is far too great. I will not share this with you, the grief would be too great for a future king to bear along with the weight of the crown, if only I could unlearn it myself. This cycle cannot be allowed to continue, and I will see it brought to an end. I mean to wage war with the gods, using the very power they have put themselves above us with for so long. And when I do, when mankind if free once more, I must die, so that I do not repeat the mistakes they have made. The forbidden works have already been destroyed, the knowledge of godhood shall die with the gods.<br/><br/>I pray only that you can forgive me, brother, and know that I have lived without regret."</em><br/><em>-Excerpts from the End Days</em><br/>-Letter between The Usurper and king Rant Guire IV, Final lord of the Guire Empire<hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_AlHeA9eBB8/Upp7G4fkoVI/AAAAAAAABSI/kVQa4vh2JVQ/s1600/079-DSC01013.JPG)</div><div class="floatright">(http://www.celnav.de/vacation/fcanyon.jpg)</div>The crater, the scorched throne, the scar; all names for the same thing, the great hole in the middle of the continent's vast wasteland. Stories tell of an ancient kingdom that sprawled nearly the entire waste that thrived centuries ago, before The Usurper rose against the gods. Some would label him a hero, the savior of all mankind, others a tyrant, a madman bent on destruction, others still a a victim of his own vanity, one who simply could not understand the true price to pay for a land without gods. Whatever the legend, they can all agree that it was this battle with the gods, wielding their own power, that decimated the kingdom, turning everything into the wastes overnight. Those that survived were cut off from one another, the seemingly endless dessert spans nearly a third of the continent, few caravans see enough profit in braving the wastes' difficult terrain, badlanders and beasts to risk the journey. Those that survived had to forge new homes and tribes on the edges of the continent, living off the mountains, the sea, and what bounty they could find in the Wooded veil, the northern forest, untouched by the scorch, assuming the forest fey would permit them. While the southern plains and small patches of forest of the continent of were easy enough to traverse, they were a haven for thieves looking for an easy meal.<br/><br/>What couldn't be provided by an everyday mage or healer, many tribes, villages, and even cities relied on the bravery of wastelanders and Wastelander guilds to acquire the necessary artifacts, spells, and magical resources needed for everyday life in the scorched remains of an empire. Such a life wasn't for all, those that were often found vast rewards within the ruins of the old world. There was much lost in the overnight disappearance of the Empire, and much to be learned again from it's remains.<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">This is a GM-free game!</span></div>All participating players are<del>welcome</del>encouraged to introduce new characters, NPCs, locations, lore, surprises and challenges meant for other players, and anything else they might come up with any time they like. Hopefully this OOC will serve as a great way to introduce new ideas, or coordinate allowing one another to take over for NPCs written in so a previously 'solo' scene can be co-written. I think we've got a good mix of players here, so i'm really looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with. For the time, I'm not really interested in putting in a bunch of rules for posting, though I do ask every player not to get<em>too</em>far ahead of those who need more time, I think a good ground rule would be something like no more than two or three posts per player before everyone has gotten one in, though I am open to suggestion. I'm sure we'll be making plenty of exceptions to that rule, especially if two players are carrying on a conversation or intimate scene.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">Character Sheets</span></div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>ThatRPGuy</strong></span></span><br/>It's really great to see so many interested people! And just in time, too! You guys saved me a few bucks, I was just about to consider taking out an ad in the banner auction before you all showed up!  :P<br/><br/>Since we're starting to see a good number of interested parties, I figured it would be a good idea to go ahead and put my own character together for this little shindig. Anyone who wants to do the same is not only welcomed, but encouraged! Since this is a systemless game (heck, GMless for that matter), I don't really see much of a need to enforce any kind of character sheet, so those that wish to join me, feel free to write as much or as little as you like. I imagine there's plenty of large pockets of civilization in the world, cities and whatnot, so please don't feel obligated to stick to the tribe idea that I did. Have fun, and be as creative as you like!<br/><br/><strong>Character name:</strong>formerly Risni Stepe, though he's dropped the tribal name, formally introducing himself simply as Risni, or Risni of the Veil<br/><strong>Hair color/style:</strong>A dark black that goes just past his shoulder blades that he often keeps tied back or in a loose braid when on a diplomatic excursion.<br/><strong>Eye color:</strong>Like most of the Stepe tribe, a dark, nearly sapphire blue.<br/><strong>Build:</strong>Athletic, though not bulky. Most of his training revolves around his focus and agility.<br/><strong>Height:</strong>6'1"<br/><strong>Appearance/Clothes:</strong>Risni is often somewhat pale with a light complexion, though far from sickly, spending most of his time in the shade of the Wooded Veil, his demeanor a practiced calm. Depending on how long his trips to the wastes last, he can, at times, get pretty tan. Most often, Risni is wearing tunics or robes in browns, greens, and olive colors, though the forest has allowed him to make an armor from the leather of it's beasts for his journies into the wastes.<br/><br/><strong>Character History/Reason (if any) for venturing into the wastes:</strong>At one time, Risni was one of the greatest hunters in his tribe. His skill with a bow and ability to track meant that his tribe rarely went hungry, and often walked away from scuffles with the other tribes on the edge of the wastes with all their members still standing, if not limping. He'd even had some luck braving the wooded veil when tracking or chasing down game, where others wouldn't dare tread in fear of invoking the fae creature's wrath. In nearly all accounts, he was the perfect example of a tribal hunter and warrior, until the day he grew overconfident and bit off more than he could chew, tangling with nearly an entire rival tribe over hunting rights. Beaten to the verge of death, Risni had no choice but to flee into the Wooded veil where even his assailants wouldn't dare tread, where he eventually collapsed.<br/><br/>Risni eventually woke to find himself still very much alive, and in good health, though far deeper in for forest, in the company of the trees, their spirits, and the fae. Rather than leave him for dead or punish him for his crimes against nature, he had been taken in. The forest had seen something in Risni he hadn't ever seen in himself, and was determined to set him on the proper course. It took years for Risni to accept, let alone embrace his role, but in time, he became something of an avatar to the forest, venturing out as needed to act on behalf of the Wooded Veil, wielding the power bestowed on him as needed. At times, his missions were diplomatic, working as a medium to negotiate peace between tribes that bordered the veil before war could break out and harm the forest. Other times, they might involve the removal of someone who simply refused to respect the wooded veil. On rare occasion, he would be sent into the wastelands to find and retrieve ancient knowledge, or to plunder one of the many magical artifacts wastelanders routinely sought in order to bring it back to the veil to be disenchanted, so it's magic might be returned to the land.<br/><br/>Over the last year, his delves into the wastes were becoming more and more frequent, it was becoming far to common that he would need to replenish the land's magic. Consulting the wisdom of the elder trees and their dryad, he learned of a force, something rooted deep in the wastes that was slowly seeping away at the life of the world. Once more, Risni ventures into the wasteland, this time in hopes of finding whatever it is that is draining his forest.<br/><br/><strong>Abilities:</strong>A gifted hunter and fighter, Risni has only honed his skills in years of service to the forest. Risni is skilled with both a staff and bow, and has often needed to use his forest longbow as a melee weapon in a pinch. While he also knows powerful natural magic, it's of little use to him in the wasteland, where little is known to grow. He's an expert in basic survival skills, and has some knowledge in magical mending, though he's unsure of how well it well work on creatures other than forest life and fae.<br/><br/><strong>Allies:</strong>Risni's most powerful ally is the wooded veil itself, along with all it's creatures and fae, though beyond the safety of the trees, he's often on his own. He is marked in a way normal vision cannot see, magical beings outside the forest are able to tell at a glance he can be trusted, and those with magical vision would be able to tell at a glance he's connected to the forest in some way.<br/><br/><strong>Enemies:</strong>Not everyone that can see he has a connection with the forest sees him as an ally, especially those looking to exploit it's resources, wildlife, or magic. Risni has found himself the target of an attack more than once, simply because it's been assumed the guardian of the forest is far less powerful outside it. Many of the northern tribes that have chosen not to live in harmony with the veil view him as a nuisance if not an enemy, none more than his former tribe. When Risni suddenly reappeared after being missing for years, only to ask them to stop laying traps for the creatures of the viel, he was immediately marked for treason and run out. To this day, the Stepe have him marked for death.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>MementoMori</strong></span></span><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Nila Prieto<br/><strong>Hair Color/Style:</strong>Soft black, loose waves, usually worn in a braid, or put up out of her face<br/><strong>Eye Color:</strong>Sea glass green<br/><strong>Skin:</strong>Pale olive<br/><strong>Height:</strong>5'9''<br/><strong>Tribe:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Brief History/Background:</strong>At seven years old Nila Prieto became an orphan. Her entire tribe was eradicated in a raid save for Nila and a few other young girls who were meant to become slaves. The Quietus was the largest nomadic tribe in existence, and one of the only tribes brave enough to travel through the Wastes. While they survived by trading everything from furs, to weapons, to magick, to grain, to slaves and prostitution; they thrived by killing any and all who stood in their way. The Quietus were akin to a plague of locust, devouring smaller tribes as they passed, taking what was needed, what was wanted, and burning the rest. They were an army of devastation. Each man was a trained killer, each having their own special skills and abilities, but working together seamlessly to spread destruction and death. They had no remorse or guilt, they did not murder or pillage for any political gain, merely because they wanted to. And, more importantly, because they can. There was no power large enough to stop them. But The Quietus were a reasonable bunch, and their peace could be purchased at a hefty price. But what was a little food, a little water, a little money when it came to saving your own neck?<br/><br/><em>Take what you need, take what you want, and kill anyone who stands in your way.</em>Those were the beliefs that Nila had been raised with, and she believed in them wholeheartedly. But The Quietus were not her family; they were the vermin responsible for murdering her family, her friends. They took her from her home and turned her into a slave, a thing to be used, abused, and beaten into submission. And Nila had played along, but she was grown now, and she was ready to take what she wanted. She played the submissive part, doing what she was told with neither an argument nor a complaint. But she had been studying, watching, learning. She knew how to shoot a bow, how to wield a knife, a few basic spells she had picked up from some of the other slave women, and she was ready to take back her freedom. But first there was a man who had to pay. The man who had slit her parents throats in front of her, the man who had stolen her innocence, the man she had been slave to for nearly two decades. And once he was dead, she would truly be free. If The Quietus didn't kill her before she could flee.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Chtozahuinya</strong></span></span><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Gozer the Kinslayer<br/><br/><strong>Hair:</strong>Bright red mo-hawk, held back in a ponytail. A rough beard.<br/><br/><strong>Eyes:</strong>Hazel<br/><br/><strong>Build:</strong>Broad shoulders with a bulky physique. An emphasis on strength and endurance.<br/><br/><strong>Height:</strong>6'4"<br/><br/><strong>Appearance/Attire:</strong>Gozer has the ruddy complexion of the Jessirat Nomads. Clan tattoos cover his chest and left arm. A black sun on his chest with four blue spirals, one of which curls up the side of his neck into his jaw line. The tattoos along his arm are varied, denoting achievements within his clan and remarkable kills or conquests.  He wears cured hide armor, taut and flexible, under an iron chest piece made from scrap. Both his bracers and boots are steel shod.<br/><br/><strong>Character History:</strong>Gozer's mother was a Jessirat prostitute, as was her mother before her and so on. Gozer and his fraternal twin brother, Dozer, were raised by their many "sisters" to be honest and hard working men. When visiting a tribal settlement the brothers protected the women as they plied their trade and often took work as farm hands or laborers depending on the season.<br/><br/>Males in the clan are used as peace offerings to the tribes that deal with the Jessirat. The Jessirat women provide strong young men to marry into a tribe. Which keeps the tribe healthy and diverse.<br/><br/>Gozer and Dozer were eventually chosen, though by different tribes. Dozer was selected first, as red hair is a sign of ill-omen in the Wastes. Some weeks later Gozer was chosen by the Great Bull tribe. As he prepared for his wedding feast, not having met his bride-to-be, the clarion call for defense sounded. Gozer charged out of the temple, naked but for his boots and an axe.<br/><br/>He frightened enemy and ally alike with his ferocity, cleaving into one foe after another. At first it was to prove his mettle to his new tribe, but then the blood lust was upon him and he was a terror to behold. It was not until he saw his own face staring back at him in his dying brother's eyes that he could bring himself under control.<br/><br/>The brothers had no way of knowing they would meet in battle. None the less, Kinslaying is one of the most grievious crimes in the Wastes. The mark of the pariah was overshadowed only by his own shame.<br/><br/>Over the next few years Gozer earned his bread as a mercenary and, when the times were hard, a bandit. No matter how deep into the Wasteland he gets, he cannot outrun the gnawing guilt.<br/><br/><strong>Abilities:</strong>Gozer is warrior born and bred, able to wield martial weapons with exact proficiency. Raised among the Jessirat he is a parsimonious negotiator; he walks away from most transactions with the better deal. Whether a mercenary contract or a bed for the night. In these last few months Gozer has gained some measure of control over his blood lust, but he knows he will never completely master it. For the frenzy owns him.<br/><br/><strong>Allies:</strong>Prostitutes and sell-swords, there is honor among the disenfranchised and the wanderer. He has saved many a companion's life on the battle field, brothers in arms will come to his aid.<br/><br/><strong>Enemies:</strong>Priests and Elders, some sins can never be forgiven. Much is the blood he's spilt upon the dead land, earning him a reputation as a murderer. Brothers and sons of his victims will always seek retribution.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Aadreal</strong></span></span><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Riest of the Magwars, her tribe does not use family names as they believe such things lead to serving family above all else<br/><br/><strong>Hair:</strong>White with the barest hint of blue, much like the light of a full moon<br/><br/><strong>Eyes:</strong>Deep blue to the point of appearing black at times<br/><br/><strong>Build:</strong>Behind the attire, one word would be used to describe Riest, soft.  Her skin is pale yet still holds the barest flush of younger days spent in the sun.  With the gloves removed, her hands appear unblemished and smooth, none of the harshness of hard work or weapon training marring her. While not portly, she certainly has not suffered from lack of food in recent times, an additional cushioning to the natural feminine curves bearing witness of one too many rich meals.  This subtle roundness even extends to her face, filling her cheeks and giving the look of one innocent and uncaring of the difficulties in the world.<br/><br/><strong>Height:</strong>5’5”<br/><br/><strong>Appearance/Attire:</strong>Despite her open and friendly demeanor, Riest’s appearance often causes others to give her space.  No matter what she wears, it is always black or dark grey, often covering all but her eyes.  Elaborate layers of fabric twist and wrap around her from head until it is tucked into the tops of her boots.  The fabric revealing her to be a woman yet loose enough to obscure her true shape.  The heat of the Wastes has little patience for those darkly clad and yet she handles any discomfort without complaint, leaving some of the more superstitious to wonder if she isn’t one of the creatures said to haunt the sands.  For there is something more than just her attire that makes others turn away, there is something about her very presence that seems to make some uncomfortable.<br/><br/><strong>Character History:</strong>There are some that still believe in the old ways, who dedicate their lives to try and keep alive the memories of the time before the Wastes were created.  Though if you listen to some, the Wastes have always been, but among Riest’s people, they know otherwise.  Each and every child is taught the stories of what once was, of the wonder and greatness of the cities before.  Of the magic that once infused the land and sky.  Of the gods that were more than believed in, they were known, having walked the world and creating priests with powers greater than even the most skilled mage could dream of.  The world as it was a goal for those who still believed.<br/><br/>It was in this environment Riest was raised, her tribe the descendants of those who gathered after the great catastrophe and sought to bring the world back to its true state.  But time passed, the tribe grew smaller and smaller, belief became memory for many and her people were seen as a nuisance.  Still, it was rare for them to be turned away, their healers having knowledge and some gift that put all others to shame.  It was even said there were some that could not only speak with the dead but return them to the living, or could kill with a single glare.  Only the foolhardy risked facing such a wrath, even if they were simply stories told around campfires.<br/><br/>The truth was somewhere in between, those few who remained serving gods long dead though the fragile belief was enough to keep the memory alive.  As with every child in her tribe, when Riest turned thirteen she underwent a testing, the tribal elders chanting and casting until they knew what her future held.  She was touched, a spark of divine nestled within her heart, yearning to serve something greater than herself or her tribe.  So the training began, exhaustive study of the gods that once were, their rituals and the beliefs of those who served them.  As well as being taught how to write, to read, to do sums and how to heal.  After all, it was the healing ability of her tribe that kept so many alive, despite more and more choosing to leave the tribe.<br/><br/>After years of preparation, the time for the choosing arrived.  Cleansed in purified waters, clad only in a thin robe, Riest left her tribe, wandering into the Waste alone.  For three days and three nights she took neither food nor drink, settling in among the sands to meditate.  The spark within her reaching out until it found what it sought.  When she returned, Riest was changed.  Her dark hair had turned white, her pale eyes had darkened.   Blood pooled under her skin over her heart, forming a stain in the rough shape of a raven in flight.  She’d been marked, chosen by one of the dark gods.  Yaril, the Goddess of Death, Mother of Tears, Stalker of Nightmares, Keeper of Dark Knowledge and Lover of the Night.  Not since before the world changed had Yaril selected a servant, though the Magwar still trained their priests to be in Her ways.  They no longer saw the sweet, loving, caring young woman that Riest was, instead they saw the choosing as a sign of some darkness within her soul.<br/><br/>Unwelcome in her own tribe and finding little comfort among others or even in the cities, Riest once more found herself alone in the Wastes.  Something out there called to her, she could feel it.  Though each time she tried to seek it out, something stopped her.  Be it running across raiders, running out of water or the feeling simply vanishing.  Yet still she persists, her dreams giving her hope and memories not her own.<br/><br/><strong>Abilities:</strong>Beyond the training in healing provided by wisdom and herbs, Riest's service provides a divine touch which allows her to heal those who do not shadow death's domain.  Those who reside closer are more difficult, forcing Riest to take on some of their wounds as payment for Yaril's gifts.  Often times this price leaves her weak at the mercy of those around her, thus limiting the frequency with which she's willing to undergo such a ritual.  She is not trained in weapons and so long as she can pray, she does not need to be.  One touch can end a life as easily as it can save a life, though with every death Riest suffers.  The more the victim wishes to live, the greater Riest's pain.  The few times she has been forced to defend herself in this manner has simply left the attacker severely wounded, the young priestess unable to endure any further torment.  However it was enough to allow her to get away.  There are other magics she wields, though she does not speak of them if she is able.  Through prayer she can return the spirit of the dead to their flesh, if only momentarily.  The records state Yaril's most faithful could return any to the living, even if their body was long destroyed.  Riest is unsure if she believes that, hating the touch of the dead far too much to even attempt it.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Allies:</strong>Technically Riest was not banished from her tribe so should she ever find herself in need, most would come to her aid.  Outside of her tribe, she has made few friends, moving on before she would once again have to see those around her grow uncomfortable and distance themselves.<br/><br/><strong>Enemies:</strong>Though she does not know it, Riest has enemies.  A small offshoot of her tribe has found out about her service.  They serve the god Eristan, who long ago swore vengeance upon Yaril for reasons unknown.  But such is the way of the old gods, they loved, hated and bore all of the emotions of their human worshipers.  Other than that, Riest feels no ill will to any, attempting to be kind to all and aid them when they find themselves under the Goddess’ shadow.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Pheonyx</strong></span></span><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Luth'ol (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v641/SoaringDragon/RPG%20Characters/403781_269316053181992_1235909227_n_zps79ba5556.jpg)<br/><br/><strong>Appearance/Clothes:</strong>Brownish red hair, golden yellow eyes, pale, but lightly tanned skin. Standing about 5’6”. 23 Season of the Greens (Spring Time) old. Tattoo around forehead and upper left arm. Lion claw on a leather thong around neck. 4” long leather wrist guards, sandals that wrap up lower legs, cotton skirt and top – sand coloured. Spear, sword, and Lion<br/><br/><strong>Tribe:</strong>Aishnak Vhaisse<br/>The Aishnak Vhaisse roam a medium chunk of the Wastes and a large part of the Prairies off the Wastes. Not a normal thing for Lions generally that pick a territory and stick to it, the Humans that have bonded with the Lions are to blame for the Prides nomadic lifestyle.<br/><br/>Children grow up playing and romping amongst other cubs and the adults, both Human and Lion, and are left in the care of Lions as often as a Human. The children learn hunting and tracking from observing the Adults of the Pride. And though the Adult Humans keep a close watch on the young ones to mark out those that show exception in certain areas the Pride always needs filled, they do not interfere in their learning. If a child is too unobservant to notice a stronger predator stalking them, they will not chase it off. If they do not survive an attack by such, they also will not rescue the child. It is survival of the fittest, and the Way of the Pride. As Children reach maturity, they are sent out into the Wild to survive on their own, and see if a Lion will choose them as a companion. It is a harsh way of life, but the Pride is stronger for it.<br/><br/>The Aishnak Vhaisse communicates with both words and the various roars and grunts and calls of the Lions. The Human adults teach their children the various uses of plants that can heal and harm, as well as be used for flavoring food when it is cooked. The Humans of the Aishnak Vhaisse have evolved enough to be able to eat their meat either cooked or raw. Vegetables and grains are a rarity, most often found on the plate during lean hunting times.<br/><br/><strong>Character History:</strong>Luth’ol grew up like an typical kid of The Aishnak Vhaisse. When she reached the age that the young are allowed to follow the Hunters, she was quick to show promise as a Scout. If she managed to catch wind of a hunt before it was to leave, she was gone and already checking out the terrain and finding prey. Even if she didn’t get a heads up in time, she’d usually manage to get ahead of the hunters enough to still scout.<br/><br/>Showing an ability to observe and be a good scout, and capable of getting herself out of a sticky situation or three in sometimes rather creative ways, she was taken under the wing of the best Scout the Pride had. She thrived under the guidance, and showed a liking for the more solitary life of a Scout.<br/><br/>When she reached maturity, she was sent out as was the Way. She spent several weeks wandering both the Wastes and the Prairies on her own. During that time, she woke one morning to find a large male Lion, not of the Pride waiting for her under the tree she’d chosen to sleep, and a half eaten deer as well. She calls him Nika, and he seems to accept it, for the most part. After their time out and learning how to work with each other, they finally returned to the Pride, and Luth’ol and Nika took their places as Scouts for the Pride.<br/>Though Luth’ol is a part of the Aishnak Vhaisse, she is known to disappear for long periods of time. Always returning with information and oddities she’s found in her journeys. She stays around long enough to reestablish ties with her Pride, and then leaves again.<br/><br/><strong>Abilities:</strong>Hunting, both solitary and in a group. Scouting and Tracking. Capable of surviving by herself.  Observation.<br/><br/><strong>Allies:</strong>Aishnak Vhaisse, Lion Pride associated with the AV, and with some time, stranger Lion Prides.<br/><br/><strong>Enemies:</strong>Because the Aishnak Vhaisse have such a large roaming territory, they have been known to have scuffles with other tribes they come across. Usually out of fear of the Lions that the other Tribes see as a threat, or wanting the furs of. The Aishnak Vhaisse do not really see the other Tribes as enemies, but as another part of the Way of Life, and weeding out the weak who do not survive the skirmishes. That doesn’t mean other Tribes do not see them as enemies, or fear them because of the Lions they travel with.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Yesiroleplay</strong></span></span><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c9/424955_10151308184782958_110644116_n.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Miri<br/><strong>Hair:</strong>Long straight auburn tresses, once coiffed or styled in various manner and adorned with jewels and combs<br/><strong>Eyes:</strong>Light hazel brown<br/><strong>Build:</strong>Soft and yielding and curvaceous bordering into voluptuous.  Under the curves and the padding is the toned musculature of a skilled dancer.<br/><strong>Height:</strong>5'7"<br/><br/><strong>Appearance/Attire:</strong>Miri has the dusky olive skin typical of her people, and her usual attire reveals liberal expanses of that flawless complexion.  Until recently she rarely experienced direct sun, as it ages the skin and mars the setting of her consort's prize jewels.<br/><br/><strong>Character History:</strong>Lands far, far to the west of the central scar border a tempestuous sea constantly battling itself against stark cliffs or washing upon wide beaches.  The people here are traders, merchant ships and caravans set forth from a string of city-states allied by culture and split by feud, commercial rivalry, and tradition.  Shair strove against Malih each against Tajr to build wealth and accumulate power.  And the most impressive display of wealth was a grand palace.  A palace complete with gardens and fountains and languid pools, and of course a properly stocked harem.<br/><br/>Miri lived most of her life in such a harem.  Born of destitute parents struggling to survive in an over-taxed and under-watered village, the Tajr’s men noticed her grace and potential for real beauty at a young age, and took her along with the tithe of olives and dates and rice as partial payment of the village’s heavy tax debt.  Her parents were happy to see her go.  They had one less mouth to feed, and the girl would most likely see a better life than they could provide.<br/><br/>It would be years before Miri grew into her role as concubine.  Years of relentless lessons and training and instruction for her duties.  She learned all the skills needed of a harem girl – how to serve and how to smile, how to walk and how to dance, how to talk and when not to talk, how to prepare potions and poisons and select a proper relaxant or stimulant for her master’s increased pleasure.  And of course, she learned much about sex, though only through instruction without practice.<br/><br/>When she was of age, she finally met the Tajr, and put that instruction into practice.  She became one of the man’s favorites, and when one summer he took a grand excursion to hunt tiger and even wilder beasts, he brought along all the comforts of home, including a handful of his favorite concubines and their eunuch guardians.<br/><br/>Travelling far to the north, hunting game none of his rivals could hope to match, the Tajr met his end not under tooth and claw of some savage beast, but in ambush by tribesmen near the fringe of the Wooded Veil.<br/><br/>The Tajr, his mamelukes and his servants and his riches came captive to these primitives, and most were slain or destroyed.  But a few were spared.  Those that did not fight, or that had some value were allowed to live.  Miri found that life as a savage’s slave wasn’t so different from life in the harem.  True, there were no jewels, and there was no silk.  But the duties were quite similar and the politics among tribal women were very much the same as those within the harem.<br/><br/>But a tribal village didn’t have the stability of a rich palace.  Such tribes had enemies and allies, and constantly raided or traded with others.  And the girl changed masters often, sometimes via commerce, but more often through violence.<br/><br/><strong>Abilities:</strong>Miri has extensive alchemical knowledge, and given time and ingredients can manufacture or prepare a surprising assortment of potions, elixirs, remedies, and more exotic concoctions.   She is also a trained and gifted dancer, something of a diplomat, a polyglot, and of course quite sexually proficient.  She also heals very fast, nearly to the level of regeneration.  Whether this ability comes from alchemical infusion, training, natural ability, some combination of the above, or from something else entirely remains a mystery.<br/><br/><strong>Allies:</strong>Whoever she’s with at the time.  She’s very flexible.<br/><br/><strong>Enemies:</strong>The enemies of those she’s with aren’t really her enemies, she tries to stay out of such squabbles.<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">World Details</span></div><br/>This will be updated as needed, though everyone is free to contribute here in the OOC. If you want information about your character's lore, history, tribe, etc added to this first post for easy access, just let me know in the OOC or by PM and I'll gladly edit it in.