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Showing posts with label Characters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Characters. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

A Visit From the Arbiter


Hello! It's been awhile, but I thought I'd drop back in with something fluffy for you all. This is a set of tables I began writing for a campaign I ran almost 3 years ago. I was originally planning to have very odd Elves, in OSR fashion, but what I've ended up with might fit a more nebulous word. Something like "Neighbors", "Guests", or "Co inhabitants". 


François de Nomé, Explosion of Cathedral

How many ages have they been holed up in there? How many petty intellectuals have written treatise decrying imagined decadence and tyranny? Scribes copy and recopy these lies on vellum as the endless knot of the Elven world coils tighter and tighter. As the roots take hold of its foundations, as the grass chokes the promenades, as the locks rust to nothing the Elves continue their inscrutable project.

The earth is a watch. The watch has yet to be invented, but the Elves know that the earth is a watch. It is a law-bound system, subject to limitation, subject to chaos: ticking out of time. Wildfires and droughts and peasant revolts and, perhaps, eclipses are all like this: evidence of a contradiction running its course and trying to resolve. The watch begs to be wound up but betrays again as it loses synch. But what if a contradiction could be flipped inside out? I know, what does that even mean? ‘Flipped inside out’, a description of an object in space, not compatible with an abstract noun. But this is exactly what the Elves have attempted. An impossible task to make an impossible place. That is, a Utopia, no place at all.

Their logic is so calcified that it’s become endlessly creative. Every instrument of brutal, mechanical control has become its exact opposite. Grasping scarcity has become so ingrained in them that they have discovered limitless wealth. For centuries they have practiced their etiquette and manner. But none of this is extravagance, exactly the opposite. Every flourish is exquisitely necessary, organized to unknown ends. Nothing should work but it does.

Before they blinked out of history and out of their vast cities, the Elves struck a deal. This is the Ancient Contract. Nobody remembers who agreed to the terms. It is not so much a document as a mandate, a ritual, an action which constantly repeats. The Elven Arbiter arrives without warning, the Embassy is begun. Why? Something is wrong with our side of the world. Something like a quest needs to be performed. Our world must be kept as it is. There are details that must be maintained. Natural features, borders, social structures, ideological hegemonies, which the Elves have deemed necessary to the function of their hidden society.  It is as if we are not so separate afterall.

Mode of Transport: The Arbiter always travels in style.

1. Completely white litter carried by porcelain coloured humanoids without clothes, genitals, or faces
2. Bed of exotic flora which grows to move forward and withers just as fast
3. Floating glass pyramid inscribed with calligraphy, it keeps above the earth by constantly singing
4. A large crawling red hand with a small castle tower rising from the wrist
5. A carriage of silk which several large spiders swing through the trees
6. A muzzled troll whose belly can be slit open to reveal a lovely parlour with fleshy coloured furniture
7. A group of skeletons carrying four large iron wheels who fold together to make a carriage
8. A large egg which rips a chuck out of reality when cracked, replacing it with the Arbiter’s elegant drawing room. The egg appears in the fireplace and causes the room to disappear if it’s removed.
9. A massive roughhewn crystal crawling on crab legs. The sunlight makes its reflection the portal to a pleasant grotto.
10. A moving bonfire with a huge steel kettle cooking on it. A lovely kitchen is poured out when the water boils.

Appearance: It is forbidden for outsiders to gaze upon a being as mighty as the Arbiter, but they conceal themselves with the most stylish guise.

1. A crudely anthropomorphic crocodile. Eyes like stars wink from inside its jaws.
2. Robes like water, an obscuring cataract that gets nothing wet.
3. Light bends around the Arbiter, creating a moving void in sight.
4. The Arbiter is inside out. It is no shame for outsiders to see one’s guts and bones.
5. Light passes through the Arbiter, an unbreakable invisibility. But their voice is everywhere.
6. You. Just like you. A mirror.
7. A veil of chitinous insects surrounds them. Their whirring wings change colour, signalling mood.
8. A luminous silken veil from which copious sweet smoke spills.
9. A face-shaped obsidian cage encircles their body. Arms and legs, naked and pale, stick out.
10. Behind you. Always behind you. 

Knights: The Arbiter’s personal entourage. 

1.Dressed in armor made completely of slashing edges and stabbing points fitted together and riding muscular horses whose flesh is all scar tissue (Knights of Predation)
2.  Gnarled tree bark is fused to their flesh, they ride owlbears and wield wooden weapons (Knights of the Spring Thaw)
3. Wear armor of iron feathers and ride huge swans with the legs of lions (Knights of the Summer Updraft)
4. Dress in armor made of elegantly folded paper and ride gently purring snow clouds (Knights of the Winter Gale)
5. Their heads are grafted onto long spindly golems grown of glass and rosebushes. They carry their fleshy bodies on their backs in vats of purple jelly. (Knights of Spring’s Cull)
6. They are completely invisible but leave footprints of all manner of forest creatures as they march and sound like a whole zoo. Only during eclipses are they visible. (Knights of the Beast Star)
7. They appear as black blotches moving across the ground, beautiful shadow puppets of knights carrying clouds of banners atop displacer beasts. At the moment the sun sets completely, they rise from the shadows. (Knights of the Consecrated Moon)
8.  They are emaciated, missing limbs, eyes, mouths and wear armor of dark red resin which has been formed into strange prosthetic feet and hands. They ride fat quadrupedal devils who smile all the time. (Knights of the Sun’s Ash)
9. They ride steeds of flowing glass warped into the shape of horses with rooster-like manes. The knights are entombed in steaming glass canisters, like champagne flutes fitted around their arms and legs. Miscellaneous tubes hang from their chests, fragrance flowing freely. (Knights of High Summer)
10. They sit on long legged lizards with huge crests emblazoned with psychedelic patterns. Their armor is scale of petals held together with thorns. (Knights of the Spring Equinox)
What are the knights up to? After all the official business, they’ll need to blow off some steam.
1. Eating somebody’s cattle with their bare hands, they just chew the meat and spit it out
2. Standing perfectly still and staring at the sun
3. Beating each other with their own limbs, for training purposes
4. Stalking townsfolk, silently
5. Trying to trade flowers for goods and services, and succeeding
6. Peacefully sewing tapestries from grass, skin, and clouds
7. Shooting song birds out of the air with perfect accuracy and sorting their feathers by size and colour
8. Swallowing weapons, dogs, ect, and coughing them up in perfect, or more than perfect, condition
9. Burning vast amounts of incense and sitting in the flames, mediating
10. Laughing uncontrollably at every aspect of non-Elvish society. They might spend an hour just standing around an outhouse, finding everything about it hilarious.
Go-Between: The Arbiter belongs to the highest echelon of Elven society, they will not debase themselves by actually speaking with the party. Thus the Go-Between, who will speak on the Arbiter’s behalf to the players and vice versa. The Go-Between is not of high enough rank to even ask questions of the Arbiter, they must ask one of the knights to do so. This is a complicated procedure.

1. Low status Elven knight
2. Terrified local dignitary
3. An ambassador from a foreign place, kidnapped
4. Enchanted Bear
5. Treant Slave
6. An overeager wizard, obsessed with the Elves
7. Gibbering half-elven changeling
8. Drunken Satyr
9. Local farmer with an Elven device embedded in her skull. Her eyes sparkle and she is oh so courteous.
10.  An amalgam of local wildlife forced into semi-humanoid shape

What must be done? The task must be seen to or else both our worlds will fall apart, so they say. Trust me.
1. A custom is changing too quickly. A story or song is being forgotten or a style of dress is being replaced.
2. Unrest is brewing in the wrong group. An uprising in the earliest stages must be stopped or the object of its ire changed.
3. A place is not being respected. A grove is being impinged upon, a quarry mined, an ancient ruin looted for building material.
4. An institution is in crisis. A temple is falling apart, a government is losing its authority, an industry is losing relevancy.
5. A natural disaster is looming, it must be mitigated. A flood must not destroy the harvest, a volcanic eruption must not interrupt a festival.
6. Infrastructure must remain as it is. A road is not being maintained, a mode of transport must be kept in fashion, a new project (like an aqueduct) must not succeed, a new technology must be destroyed.
7. Everything is too stagnant. Something drastic and traumatic must happen to society.
8. A dispute amongst the elite is getting out of hand. A political border must be maintained, an aristocratic family must not fall apart, a war must not start. 

This post is dedicated to Algernon Blackwood

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Knights of the d50 Table

I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, N. C. Wyeth, 1922

Arms and Amores! The two hearts of Chivalry, the code of the chevalier. The knight with a right hand raised to do good, a soul bemoaning the wounds of Christ and delighting in the joys of Mary! Passionate for the pontiff, loyal at the side of his liege, conquering while on campaign, most faithful to his fair maiden! But no body can fit two hearts. Lust overflows the limits of Christianity. The bloodrush of violence makes courtliness shrink in fear. To kiss and to kill. To be like an animal on the hunt and a saint in a fine lady's chamber. The knight contorts in the confusion, being pulled in each direction, only held together by the knot of the virtue that binds him.

Don't pity the horseman. His literature paints him too well. He's a marauder, a politician, a lord of land. He brings entrails to his mouth with his left hand. Just the word of him, the lais and prose, is a poison that felled Paolo and Francesca. A high-class thug half-saved by a faith half-sincere.

And a word for the faris, a southern equal to the northerly knight. He knows no French so his code is adab, the courtly refinement of a foreign land. His way is older but just bold as the upstart virtue of the Christian kind. Like cavalier he kills, like courtier he spies, engages in intrigue, and lies. No less an angel, no less a foe, he and the knight go toe to toe.

Galahad Discovers the Grail, Edwin Austin Abbey, 1895

50 Chevaliers
Call a known rider from the list below, or bring a composite knight into existence.




1. Sir Gawain: A brilliant shield, Pentangle emblazoned. Armor as shiny as virtue.
Seeks: The Green Chapel, where he is to be decapitated, but he seems lost…
Wields: A green girdle that prevents dismemberment.
2. Sir Patrick Spens: Dripping wet, drowned. Admirably dressed as admiralty.
 Seeks: Revenge on the king who ordered him out to sea in the season of storms.
Wields: Ghost sailor boy, climbs high in the sky to survey the land, sees bad weather and omens.
3. The Bacheler: Despondent, desperate, disheveled. He’s out of his depth.
 Seeks: The answer to a question: What do women most desire?
Wields: A letter of high authority ordering execution, no victim’s name yet written.
4. The Knight with the Rowan Shield: Deeply wounded, rides with hawk and hound at heel.
Seeks: The lake of the witch who can clean and heal his wound.
Wields: A golden rod. When immersed in a river or lake, it summons the water spirits.
5. Herr Olof: Courtly garments, a beautiful saddle. Dripping and drowned from the mermaid’s lair. Seeks: His wedding. He got lost on the way there. Has it really been so long?
Wields: A fine goblet, a gift from a maiden. Drinking from it makes you forget yourself.
6. Herr Holger: Wealthy, thin, ghoulish in aspect. His head has been stitched back on.
 Seeks: To warn mortals of the torments of hell, to make thieves and tax collectors repent.
Wields: A sack of gold coins from hell’s coffers. Each can pay a devil to do an evil deed.
7. Sir Tamlin: Misty in figure, too human to be fairy. Yearns to return to our world.
Seeks: To keep trespassers from the fey places, to punish them if they do pass.
Wields: A pure rose, eating it will purge the body of all curses, illness, pregnancies.
 8. Redcrosse Knight: Heavily armed, the crimson cross on his breast. A dragon killer.
Seeks: The castle of Arthur, where his wedding will be held.
Wields: His wife-to-be, the maiden matchless in virtue, Una.
9. Sir Bedivere: Beyond distraught, weeping as he rides. He is lost without his liege. One handed. Seeks: The lake where he might let go the royal blade and fulfil his king’s last wish
Wields: Excalibur, the mighty brand of Arthur.
10. The Green Knight: Entirely Emerald Green from forehead to foot. Carries a heavy axe.
Seeks: To challenge the virtue of proud nobility by beating them in a beheading contest.
Wields: His own head. If deprived of it, he’d do a lot to get it back.
11. Sir Guiomar: Prefers talking to fighting, struggles with his lust.
Seeks: To protect a newborn child delivered to his care. It may have a great destiny.
Wields: A token of love from a fairy most high.
12. Sir Britomart: A lady-knight of perfect chastity. Fair and courteous and a lover of jousts.
Seeks: Her destiny, a man worthy of her hand in marriage.
Wields: An enchanted promise ring. The wearer must keep the bond their swear on it.
13. Sir Bors the Younger: A scar on his forehead marks him. Takes his chastity most seriously.
Seeks: The way home. He has fulfilled his quest and lived.
Wields: A communion wafer, consecrated at the mass of the holy Grail.
14. Sir Brunor: An upstart, his coat covered in ghastly gore. Very used to being laughed at.
Seeks: Revenge for his father’s death.
Wields: A heart shaped stone. Beats violently when a murderer is near.
15. Sir Satyrane: Strangely chivalrous for a hairy, lusty satyr. Prone to wildness.
Seeks: An instructor, preferably a fair maiden, to teach him better chivalry
Wields: The girdle of a notable lady, how did he get that?
16. Sir Marinell: A watery, slippery, amphibian fellow. Fears women because one is fated to kill him.
Seeks: He’s trying to drown himself, a wizard has convinced him to, but it doesn’t work.
Wields: A string of sea-pearls. Each can be turned into a large, rubbery, floating bubble.
17. Sir Artegall: A sore loser, a great champion. Dressed in the armor Achilles wore, how old school. Seeks: To resolve conflicts between arguing parties fairly and justly.
Wields: A blade that can cut through any material.
18. Sir Pelleas: A stammering, pathetic young knight. Gentle and undeceiving.
Seeks: Solace from his grief, his one true love has slept with another knight.
Wields: A beautiful gold arm ring. It is worth a lot. How hard would it be to take?
19. Sir Sagramore: Hot tempered and good. Prone to fits.
Seeks: To find a quest worthy of his knighthood, to prove himself.
Wields: A deed to land in a faraway kingdom.
20. Sir Galehaut: Gigantic heritage. Appears fierce at first but hides a most honorable soul.
Seeks: To rescue his dearest friend, captured nearby.
Wields: A turbid, passionate letter of love to an unnamed beloved.
 21. Sir Dinadan: An extrovert of cynical humor. He smiles, he cajoles, he coaxes.
Seeks: A bard who is willing to play an insulting ballad in the king’s court.
Wields: A most slanderous tract, a fantastic insult written on parchment.
22. Sir Perceval: Ignorant of the world, he wants to fit in, he wants to do his best.
Seeks: The unicorn. He doesn’t know if he should kill it.
Wields: A witch’s token of affection. If people turn jealous of the wielder, they become frogs.
23. Sir Kay: A mocking, opportunistic, mean knight. He doesn’t realize the harm he does.
Seeks: A tournament worthy of his knightly prowess.
Wields: A sharp squire, the best one could hope for. Loyal and clever and perfect in measure.
 24. Sir Lionel: A vengeful character, eager to resent. He’s constantly preening his mustache.
 Seeks: A huge wild boar which killed the family of a noble lady.
 Wields: A fine hunting hound, with a top-notch sense of smell and greater speed.
25. Sir Turquine: Obviously villainous, roughish, uncourtly and cruel.
Seeks: To delight his appetite for torture, to cause pain in others and pleasure in himself.
Wields: A whip of brairs. Does little damage but strings like no tomorrow.

8 Stages of the Chansom de Roland, Simon Marmion, 15th century

26. Sir Daniel: Determined beyond sense, unable to surrender.
Seeks: An enemy king, with an inventible army of giants and mechanical horrors, to slay.
Wields: An enchanted net that can be thrown far, a magic sword, a camel.
27. Sir Moriaen: A dark skinned knight in Moorish attire. Dispossessed, needing allies.
Seeks: To be reunited with his father and reclaim his mother’s lands.
Wields: A round shield, perfectly black. It absorbs light like nothing else.
28. Sir Palamedes: Not a knight but a faris, converted and comedic.
Seeks: A way to his homeland, to visit his family.
Wields: A finest raiment of foreign fashion, a trained singing bird that can talk like a child.
29. Sir Tor: Born as shepherd, revealed to have courtly blood. No manners but a good heart.
Seeks: A strange dog, a hound mysteriously, purely white.
Wields: A fine shepherd’s crook, it won’t let go what it latches.
 30. Sir Calogrenant: Eloquent beyond measure, courtly as ever.
Seeks: To escape a rogue knight, who is chasing him down.
Wields: A bladder of water from an enchanted spring, pouring it out will summon a rainstorm.
31. Sir Roland: A haughty paladin. His head is very clearly exploded. Yet he continues on.
Seeks: The gate of heaven, which he so rightly deserves to enter.
Wields: A frightfully loud war horn. Its sound resounds across plains and valleys.
32. Sir Oliver: A calculating, wise paladin. How surprising.
Seeks: A true emperor who can unite the world.
Wields: A holy of holies, a relic most dear. Should he keep it for himself or return it?
33. Sir Fierabras: A gigantic faris. He seems imposing but weak willed, easily convinced.
Seeks: Temples to wreck, clergy to kill, reliquaries to pillage.
Wields: A huge riding horse. It could carry 4 riders in heavy arms, tons of baggage.
34. The Fause Knight: Armor forehead to foot, the Devil riding is dis-guise.
Seeks: To web fools in words. Turn your back and you’re done for. Stand and answer to survive. Wields: A satanic fiddle. Its sound drive mortals to mad dancing.
35. Sir Hoel: Virtuous and far seeing, a saint in the making.
Seeks: A cure to the poison coursing through his veins, a bane to his bane.
Wields: A bottle of fine wine that never empties.
36. Sir Launfal: A generous, jolly knight. He loves to host and adores a good boast.
Seeks: A new court to call home. He’s lost favor, been ejected, from his old castle.
Wields: An invisible butler. It serves its master perfectly but cannot commit violence.
37. Sir Astolfo: An experienced knight wielding sorcerous powers. A bit wooden due to a curse. Seeks: A chariot that can carry him to the moon, where the wits of his comrade are hidden
Wields: A magic lance which throws opponents with the slightest touch.
38. Sir Ruggiero: A conflicted soul, torn between two faiths, between two bloods in his veins.
Seeks: An oracle who will tell him his destiny. Surely he will find two conflicting fates.
Wields: A mighty hippogriff from far off lands.
39. Sir Lancelot: Handsome, high status, high stature, a heroic kind. A love like no other lurks inside. Seeks: A shoulder to cry on, he was tricked into sleeping with a maid who is not his true love. Wields: A stone from a holy grave, it repels the undead and devils from the holder.
40. Sir Ganelon: His pride leads easily to treachery, his worst crimes are committed already.
Seeks: To find a place to hide, to lay low for a time or forever, whichever comes first.
Wields: Thirty pieces of silver, which the devil can smell, track perfectly.
41. Sir Renaud: Haphazard and foolish. Beloved by his brothers, unfortunately separated.
Seeks: To avoid punishment for a murder he accidentally committed.
Wields: The last dregs of a love potion soaked into his kerchief, dripping til tis drunk.
42. Sir Galahad: Most perfect, most pure, as if a halo surrounds him. He fights, he wins, he spares. Seeks: The Holy Grail.
Wields: Nothing but what chivalry demands.
43. Sir Dagonet: A hilarious jester but an unrepentant coward. He’s a buffoon but he’s kept around. Seeks: To convince someone that he’s prevailed in a fight, he’s even battered his own shield.
Wields: A magic sword. It’s not actually magic, someone was just humoring this knight.
44. Sir Pellinore: An aged old man who rambles easily. Strokes his beard and gazes off into space. Seeks: The Questing Beast, which he is destined to chase but never catch.
Wields: A sword that will break any blade it crosses it with.
45. Sir Erec: He’s getting older, the hair turning grey. Yearns for domestic life, the little things.
Seeks: To court the maid he has fallen for, however he is neglecting an important quest.
Wields: A sack of infinite silver coins. If he tells of the sack’s magic, it will cease to work.
46. Herr Karl: A clever young man, he yearns badly to get his way.
Seeks: To free his true love from a covenant, he plans to fake his own death.
Wields: A most elegant burial shroud, a tray of fine funeral meats.
47. Sir Aldingar: A cagey character, histories of mistakes trial behind.
 Seeks: A cure for the leprosy which has afflicted him as punishment for his sins.
Wields: A curative ointment, it eases pain incredibly but does nothing more.
48. Sir Cawline: Proud but he can back it up, boasts but he can prove it.
Seeks: To slay the Elven King, a deed to win his lady’s love.
Wields: A giant’s thigh bone, an unbreakable beater, a bludgeon bar-none.
49. Herr Peder: An expert evader, honest to none. He looks disheveled, unraveled.
Seeks: A soul to confess his sins to. He has done disgusting things, but can he admit it?
Wields: A charter from the highest authority, to force any captain to make any journey.
50. Sir Gornemant: He’s seen many a squire grow to a good knight, hopeful at heart.
Seeks: A squire with potential to tutor in proper chivalry.
Wields: Almace, a time-honored blade. Totally mundane, but its name is feared.

This table would not have been possible without the code written by Betty of Paper Elemental

The Arming and Departure of the Knights, Edward Burne-Jones, William Morris, and John Henry Dearle,  19th cent

Further Reading
Though all the figures on this list are drawn from real traditions of poetry, prose, and balladry I have not been completely faithful to my sources. This is some of the fun of the chivalric romance. All the authors writing in the genre love to tweak it and remold it. Familiar characters emerge, evolve, and merge. These are my knights, but consider reading the works below to learn what deviations I've made.

The works of Thomas Malory
Gawain and the Green Knight (this is the best chivalric poem, read it.)
Orlando Innamorato by Matteo Maria Boiardo
Orlando Furioso
The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spencer
The works of Chrétien de Troyes
The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer
Chanson de Roland
Don Quixote by Cervantes
The Child Ballads (particularly 3, 39, 58, and 61)
Swedish Ballads (particularly Herr Holger, Herr Olof, Herr Karl, and Herr Peder)

This post is dedicated to the Pearl Poet

Saturday, September 1, 2018

Peoples of the Meager Country: The Rowing People

Ok, I should probably actually talk about what's in the Meager Country. Let's start with the people and the place they live. In this first post, I'll go over the basics and talk about the Rowing People, who my players have interacted with a lot so far. 

Related image
Fairy Forest at Sunset, Ivan Bilibin, 1906

Geography:
The Meager Country begins on the northern coast of the sea of Pearls, where the great river Sargal empties its frigid waters into the sea. From here, the Meager Country can be divided into 3 regions. 

1.The lower river is marshy, it’s wide delta tapering to a web of twisting streams. The steppe stretches east and west of the lower river, rolling in some places, rocky in others, soon finding the desert which hugs the north-eastern coast of the Sea of Pearls. 
It is home to the Koto Kete, the River Folk, the Orluk, and the Seluk Confederacy

2.The mid-river is straight and fast, the grasslands beside it are fertile and vast. Far west, the terrain become rougher, small forests spring up. This is Voich, it is where the Meager Country ends. 
The mid-river is home to the Koto Kete, the Kazan, the Seluk Confederacy, and the Kingdom of Voich

3. The upper river forks. The Sargal continues north-west, the river Altai stretches to the north-east, both explode into large and small tributaries. This region is covered in dense forests, pine and spruce. The Sargal tapers off into a collection of lakes connected by small streams, the lakes of Untamo. The Altai goes quickly northward, developing into swampy taiga. Eastward, its many streams run between the Uulung mountains.
It is home to the Orusk, the Hisvek, the Orluk, the River Folk, the Untamo, and the Lapuans

Some of these groups are the same type of people but are divided by ethnicity and history. Each has a number of guardian spirits who bless their people(s) of choice with certain gifts. If a PC gets close to any of these groups, they could be initiated into them and gain the use of that group's trait. No double dipping.

The typical icelandic houses with their grass roofs
For those of you who can't imagine a turf roofed house

The Rowing People:
Two icy eyes with rectangular pupils, like a goat’s, set into a long face the white-grey color of shale. Four sturdy fingers pawing through hair like hay or like red blood or like muddy water. Women with woolen dresses and complicated braids. Men in tunics with shepherds crooks and round shields. Chiefs and elites with beautiful furs or exquisite copper brooches. These are the Rowing People. There are no sailors like them. They live in turf roofed cottages and in long halls. Sheep love them and they love sheep. Their dogs have shaggy grey hair but bright, smart eyes. They are loyal to family, to tradition, to poetry but are brave and vicious and stubborn as well. The men love long stories and rhyme schemes. Women roll dice and enjoy seeing a job done well. Their voices are sing-song and clear. They have strong emotions and are moved to tears, to laughter, and to anger easily. They eat mutton and fish and milk and cheese. These are the Rowing People.


Speed: 30ft
-Advantage on Animal Handling checks involving domesticated animals
-Wide Eyes, 3 enemies, instead of 2, must be flanking you for them to gain flanking bonuses, or to gain advantage from Pack Tactics
-Can drink salt water safely for two days at most
-Can use a use a shield, as a reaction, to bear the brunt of a melee or ranged attack to completely negate damage, but not other effects, the attack would cause. This destroys the shield.

Related image
Antiques from the Old Country

The Droven:
 They hail from far up-river, far past the lakes of the north west and across the sea from a country called Hislant-Tera. It is divided into four kingdoms. A quarter of the whole land is owned by a woman named Thegin Daughter of Regin who outlived five husbands and twelve children. All the people who come here are men, hearty and foul-mouthed. They all think they are heroes or know they are merchants. Many are exiles. Their ships are wide and heavy with fur and amber and ivory. They drink a horrible liquor they call barley wine. They tell stories of tremendous feuds and countless heroes who keep every promise they make and die for it. They will never break an oath. They form mighty shield walls and bellow the great War-Song, the voice of the Ancestral Chorus speaks through them.

Guardian Spirits: One Eyed Chief, Beloved Mother, Donar the Strong

Languages: High Droven Diction, Trade Tongue
-Gain +3 AC, rather than +2 from shields while singing the War-Song

The Hisveks: 
They have always been here, in the up-river country and along the networks of tributaries and reservoirs which flow from the west of the river Sargal. Their people were founded by two great heroes, Aivan and his cousin Truvor when they promised Sporoi, jealous king of the sky spirits, that their children would only offer tribute to him. This covenant was made at the secret Scorched Grove, where a huge burnt tree connects the sky realm, mortal realm, and underworld to each other. Hisvek men all wear white caps bestowed upon them by their tribe’s shaman when they reach manhood. It is disgraceful to take off one’s cap while the sun is up and Sporoi can see his people. Hisvek shamans are all men and can control wind, lightning, and rain. They cannot touch metal without calling down a lightning strike.

Caps are removed before Aivan's Successor
The Hisveks’ clothing is decorated with complex embroidery depicting stars, winds, water, and fire. They bind their communities together around an idea of shared identity, history, and destiny but are more divided than they would like to believe. Clan bonds are loose, families stick together but charismatic shamans and chiefs often draw large numbers of followers away from their traditional groups. Some tribes have stepped away from Hisvek society, returning to the worship of old spirits. These groups are led by shaman women, who have traditionally been shunned by their male counterparts. Currently, the Hisvek are dominated by the Orusk. They are often enslaved during raids or pay tribute to Orusk chiefs. They are not allowed to participate in the Orusk legal system or even know its laws and regulations. The Orusk have adopted some Hisvek traditions, both carve polls with the faces of gods and ancestors upon them now. Most of the Hisvek hate that the cultures of both groups are converging, that the bond they forged with Sporoi is becoming deluded.

Guardian Sprits: Sporoi the Thunder King, Aivan the Wise, Truvor the Flame Touched, The Lady of the Whistling Wind

Languages: Hisvek, East Droven Diction
-Have resistance to lightning and fire damage, so long as they keep their caps on

The Orusk: 
They came from far away, a place whose name is forgotten, and settled along the shores of the great lakes and the north western banks of the river Sargal. The men are covered in blue-green tattoos of animals and war-deeds and strange symbols from foreign places. They are middle-men, their existence secured only by tenuous connections between Droven merchants and a web of warring factions. They suck up traditions, beliefs, stories from all peoples and are always worried.

Зимняя #КоллекцияГИМ //  «Смотр служилых людей (XVI-XVII вв.)». По оригиналу Иванова С.В. 1908 г.
Review of Service Class People by Sergei Ivanov, 1913

Their society is based upon gifts. The dowry a woman receives from her husband. The food friends bring to each other’s tables. The silver torque a chief gives his chosen warrior. The sacrifice the seeress gives to the sprits to reweave the flow of destiny. They never buy and sell among themselves, they give and form bonds of debt. If one can’t repay in kind, she is enslaved and all her property forfeit. Every clan has a chief, a seeress, and a lawspeaker. The chief is married to the seeress, one who marries for love is scorned and will quickly die. When individuals seek the spirits’ aid, they come to the seeress. When the fate of the community is at stake, the chief steps up to entreat the ancestors and the land sprits.  His life is the best sacrifice he can provide to One-Eyed Chief, so long as he has been a brave leader. He will be hung and slit open and his people will find victory in all things. The lawspeaker remembers tradition and the great code handed down to his fathers by First Adjudicator. Every season, the lawspeaker calls the Assembly to order and all the members of his tribe bring suits against each other and prosecute criminals, they decide everything by vote. Every summer, the Great Assembly is called and all the Orusk gather to settle disputes between clans, amend the great code, and renew their people’s relationship to Mother Huldra to ensure a successful season of trade to come. The Great Assembly is lead by the Chief of All People, Od-Ovar.

Guardian Spirits: One Eyed Chief, Steward of the North Star, First Adjudicator, The Lady of Strings, Seeress in Black Robes, Mother Huldra

Languages: East Droven Diction, Trade Tongue
-Gain +1 to all saving throws while wearing a lock of woman’s hair tied round the forearm with a specific secret knot (Girls are taught the knot by their mothers before their wedding night)

(A note on language, Trade Tongue is a pidgin of many of the languages spoken in the Meager Country. It is terrible for communicating complex ideas. It also has enough Bronze Speak in it to be grasped by speakers of that language.) 

War flows down the river

Notable Rowing People:

Ingwar, the Terrible One, Orusk Druid/Warlock
He was exiled for perversion temporarily but remains shunned by all. He wears a woman's dress of dark blue, which he inherited from his mentor, and a shawl of raven feathers. His hair is dirty blonde but is starting go grey. He keeps his beard short and his long ponytail usually hangs over one shoulder. He has few tattoos for one of the Orusk, only three interlocking triangles on his breast.  He is generally cheerful and easy going but easily offended.

Ingwar is in the service of One-Eyed Chief and practices the same type of magic as a seeress, thus the dress and the exile. He can adopt the form of a wolf and an owl as he pleases and spends days in the depths of the spirit world, searching for hidden wisdom. There is no curse he cannot break and no spirit he cannot track down. All he asks for in return is the life of a pack animal and a favor. 

Favorite Poetic Verse: Bite off the head of your shame

Arnol Hrathsgotha, Droven Fighter
For five years he adventured in the Meager Country, for three he served the Slave Army in Kerzerk. His hair is a deep red and his eyes shine blue. His beard is huge and matches his stature. He owns a long ivory pipe and smokes purple Kerzerkian flowers when he can. His War-Song is like no other and he seems to know warriors and heroes everywhere. He is boisterous beyond belief and loves to tell stories. 

Arnol is making his way back to Hislant-Tera and assembling an army of the mightiest warriors to take back his kingdom from his scheming cousin. He will gladly take anybody along who proves themselves a true hero.

Favorite Poetic Verse: Once with maidens you did lie, Once all men must die 

Aura Daughter of Alfar, Orusk Druid
The life of a seeress is a simple one, really. There are bones to roll, sacrifices to make, children to take care of, ect, ect, ect. Aura keeps her light brown hair medium length and loose, she doesn't mind that it gets in her eyes. Her job is not about seeing things in front of her, it's about seeing things beyond sight. She dresses simply for a woman of her status, only a simple white dress and thin leather smock for her.

Aura is the wife of Dreng son of Holza, who governs the trading town at the fork of the river Sargal  and the river Altai. She is somewhat discontent in her marriage. Currently, she is trying to create support for clearing out the deep forest of evil spirits whose incursions inch ever closer to her home.

Favorite Poetic Verse: A sleeping wolf, seldom wins a sheep

Kreweld the Hier of Thunder, Hisvek Fighter
Since he was a child, Kreweld has been raised as the last hope of the Hisvek to throw off the Orusk once and for all. He speaks East Droven Diction like a native and knows all the Orusk poems by heart. He wears his white cap with great pride but dresses in fine furs from far up river. So far, he has engaged several Orusk chieftains in contests of wit and gathered a devoted following of warriors and shamans. He is ready to start shedding blood, he only needs the right opportunity.

Krewald cares deeply about duty and following procedure. He makes friends quickly and enemies only slightly slower. Grim sense of humor. He probably has a great destiny. 

Favorite Poetic Verse: Then come snowstorms and sharp winds, then the time approaches when the gods will fall

Irma, Hisvek? Rogue?
The life of a slave rarely ends well. Irma is a young woman, barely of age, but she is chief of a whole village. She was once the property of old chief Holza and was slated to be strangled and burnt on the dead man's pyre, as is traditional. However, she whispered in the dying chief's ear day after day before his candle was snuffed out. Just before he died, Holza named her as his third inheritor, after his two sons, and Irma walked away free and rich. She collected a number of followers and settled on one of the lower tributaries of the river Altai.

Irma has light red hair which she wears in a short braid. She wears dresses in the Hisvek style with complex embroidery. Before attending each Great Assembly, she cuts her hair as to be almost bald and dresses like an Orusk Warrior, lock of woman's hair round her arm and all. On her shoulder is a tattoo of a funeral pyre and a woman fleeing it. She is married to the seeress Astrid. Irma is cunning and proud, but knows when to be humble. She cares for her people deeply and is the only thing stopping the Kazan from filling them with arrows.

Favorite Poetic Verse: Remember thy oaths, but utter them not

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These are the Rowing People
So a lot of this information is a little useless. It's not necessary to know exactly how everyone dresses and what they eat, but I like having a strong image of both the more fantastic and less fantastic elements of the setting to ground my descriptions in. I often repeat lines, such as 'skin the color of shale' during play. Knowing the habits of all the peoples also gives the players some information they can use to navigate the world better. For example, the players know that the Orusk are covered in tattoos and Hisveks wear white caps. Then they meet somebody with the identifiers of both groups and they can quickly figure out how this character fits into Orusk/Hisvek society.

This post is dedicated to Evan Dahm, thank you for widening my view of what a person can look like