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Arashan - The Ko The cloak hangs from one of the crossbeams of Arashan's tent. His dwelling is a humble one, but still befitting that of a man of his stature. It is adorned with a few trophies and gifts from dignitaries, the inner walls dyed with the indigo that is the lifeblood his people. But most of all, it his spacious, for the Amaghar's family. As it has been every night since the other Circles conspired against him and stole the future from him, he is alone in his tent. His eyes trace the weaves and intricate embroidery of the cloak. It was his father's. Arashan remembers the day he came back with it, himself so small and his father seeming so very, very tall that day. He had been minding the camels, one of his duties as the eldest son of the Amaghar. His father looked so glorious in the morning light atop his camel, veil unpinned and grinning in that mad way of his, the cloak thrown around his shoulders. He was a man who defied the Ko with every breath and had rightfully earned the love and respect of his men. He had just raided a treacherous enclave of Green Men who dared to cheat the Walemundi. He threw the cloak to young Arashan, gold threads glittering in the sunlight, and told him that tonight they would have a feast tonight--at the Green Men's expense. Such extravagances were rare, and he treasured the memory, as he did all memories of his father, precious as water in the desert. The cloak has changed from his father's day. Still beautiful, with its intricate golden mazes set into the indigo-dyed fabric. But at the center of the maze now sits a grinning demon, a Dervish, trapped and bound to his will now, or so they say. The demon's glittering eyes reveal nothing. Arashan extinguishes his candle and whips the cloak around his shoulders heading out into the cold predawn of the Ko. The Indigo Circle had not yet reached the next oasis on their great migration, so that night they had camped on the leeward side of a sand dune, those slumbering giants of the desert. It was said that a man of true virtue, sitting atop certain ones for three days and three nights in solitude, could prove his worth and command it to move as he willed. Assuming he survived. And it was the right dune. The sages are ever unclear on such details, Arashan finds. But standing in the shadow one of such giant, as he had many others, he understands why they command such respect. While the dune offers protection from the wind, it can easily consume a poorly planned or unwary camp. Choosing the right dune is a matter of skill, experience, and luck, in order of increasing importance. He walks up the sand dune, the broad sandals that the Wandering People have perfected over untold generations of penance enabling him to easily ascend, and look upon the coming dawn. The Judging Eye peeks over the horizon, serpent-backed and coming alive with color. At sunrise and sunset, one can almost forget how deadly the Ko can be, much like the Elysian Viper. Beautiful and always deadly. Arashan had seen too many fools fall victim to its venom, dying with a smile drawn across their face. "The wind...has died," it finally dawns on Arashan what has been bothering him. The Ko is a land of winds. By day they sear the faces of the Wanderers with burning sand and by night it freezes them to the bone. The wind never stops in the Ko. "This is an ill omen." With all the speed available to him, he descends the dune and rounds up his lieutenants. "Wake the men. We are breaking camp within the hour and pressing onward. The children can eat on camel-back. This place is ill-omened, I fear for our safety if we delay any longer. We can rest at the height of the sun." Moving the Circle onward towards the next Oasis, one of the Circle's hidden sources of Indigo. This lack of wind gives off bad vibes for Arashan pre:Arashan
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Nov 17, 2012 23:53
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Qualities
Ko Wanderer +4
The Indigo Raider with the Blood-Red Hands +4
Negotiator +2
Divine
Cloak of the Winds +2
Foible: The Circle Must Not be Broken -2
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 12:16 |
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Arashan - Indigo Oasis, Ko Desert (Elysian Sands) Nothing is truly hidden in the Ko. It only becomes lost in the trackless waste and the endless sweeping dunes, ever changing in this windswept, blasted land that the Wandering People call home. It sweeps away all trails and draws a final shroud over the bones of all who seek to traverse it. Only the Walemundi know the scant signs by which the oases can be found, a secret jealously guarded, and envied by outsiders and brothers alike, for knowledge of the oases is life in the thirsty desert, one which is not shared lightly, even with fellow Wanderers. The smell of indigo flowers fills the air long before Arashan and his circle crest the final dune and feel a burden lifted off their shoulders. Each oasis, they know, is sacred, an upswell of the benedictions of their ancestors, and the only places in this, the land of their penance, where they may find respite. They are greeted by the cultivators and dyemakers as they pass, mostly members of the Circle too old or ill to handle the constant wandering, along with a few to guard the oasis and attend to the elders. It is a position of great responsibility, as they must ensure to the livelihood of their sons and daughters. Arashan dismounts his camel and takes off his sandals, handing them off to an attendant of the oasis. His Left Hand Men do the same, his Right Hand, Tomal, taking his cloak and folding it neatly, setting it down at the edge of the sanctum. It would be wrong to carry such a cursed thing into a place so holy. They tread the last few sandy feet barefoot into the water and wade their way to the shrine. Arashan kneels on the green of the little island, before the elegant shrine, and lays down icons of his wife and son, setting a spring of indigo into the altar, an ancient wood panel carved by their ancestors and set into a rocky spar at the center of the oasis. He speaks a brief prayer for them, and dutifully utters words for his parents and his ancestors, asking for any aid they can offer him and his Circle in the coming months. "Every day, I wish..." he whispers to himself, before rising, unfinished. Their feet have barely touched the boundary of the sanctum when Arashan turns to Tomal and asks him, "Do you believe I am being...punished?" His Right Hand pauses, leaving his Amaghar's cloak draped over his own arm, and waves the other lieutenants away. They depart quietly to attend to other duties. "My Amaghar, the sages say that our life is one of penance. We are born to sin and if our souls are to pass through the sands to the Last Green, we must suffer a measure of grief. Of...punishment." Arashan's dark eyes stare out into the desert, his tagelmust hanging in strips about his shoulders, hair blowing in the gentle breeze of the oasis. "So you believe what they say. This, all this, is just punishment for my ambition. So many dead. I wonder if they weigh the dead against they use to punish you just the same as those you killed with your own hands. If so, we are a bloody-handed people, Tomal." Tomal frowns, the creasing his wrinkled face weathered by the years of harsh living. "Your father told me once, after your mother passed, that the burdens set upon our shoulders are no more than we can bear. The sages may tell us it is a mountain, meant to grind us into the dust, grower ever heavier with our sins, but so long as there is life and so long as the Wandering People continue to draw breath, we cannot believe that the tasks set before us our insurmountable. Arashan, your father would not have wanted you to suffer so. His dreams for you, for all our people--" "I know, Tomal, my friend." He smiles, setting a hand on the shoulder of his mentor and most trusted man. "He was a man of such grand dreams, wasn't he?" Arashan covers himself and sets aright his robes as they head towards the tents. "That he was, my boy, that he was." Tomal glances back at the oasis a moment. "Where shall the Great Circle's path find us next, my Amaghar?" "To Elysia. To Elysia. I feel as our backs are to the wind, Tomal, and before us is the Great Oasis. We have no choice but to step forward and accept our fate." Heading to Elysia, the central Oasis. Arashan will be keeping his ears open at each stop along the way and asking around when gets there about the current state of the various Circles of the Wandering People, get a feel for the intertribal political atmosphere. It's all geared towards his ultimate goal of uniting the peoples of the desert. Using Ko Wanderer +4 and Negotiator +2.
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Nov 28, 2012 03:45
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