The Oblivious Monk

Hullo everyone. *waves* Midterms are through...so...can I play now? The little kid of me is bouncing around now.

Hi there folks. I've managed to get away from the first two weeks of OMGSTRESSOFCLASSES to say HOLA! I haven't forgotten about this. I promise! I'm...working on something I find intriguing. But it's good to say hullo to you all.

Oh yeah? Awesome.

Hullo Emeralis, pleasure to meet you! Pardon for the distraction lately. I've been hunched over developing an ulcer from my work. >.< And trying to develop a light cavalry unit.

Isiloka dé Za Myrullat/Masrah Marksman Player Information Name: Jay Contact Information: [email protected], AIM: CorinFirestorm Character Information Name: Isiloka dé Za, Isil for short Race: Myrullat/Masrah half-breed. Age: 28 Gender: Male Place of Origin: Pémi’Lla Fuq, Stenmalkk Class: Journeyman Marksman Relationship Status: Unattached Channeling Capacity: -Type: Internal -Focus Used: Isiloka primarily uses channeling for three things: the first is silencing his footfalls; the second is improving his accuracy; and the third is for increasing his ability to run across the mudflats of the Stenmalkk Swamp. He also has some ability to use it to increase his dexterity or speed, though these benefits are mild at best. His physical Focus is a leather band kept around his right wrist, the hand with which he draws his bow, that is inset with markings identifying him as a Hunter to his people. -Degree of Skill: Moderate. His lack of stamina reserves his Channeling to one-shot-kill or do-or-die scenarios and limits his ability to employ them for long periods of time or rapid succession. Appearance: Slight of frame and stature, Isiloka dé Za is still easily located in a crowd of his people. While still graceful and quick like the majority of his people, his darkened tan skin is in stark contrast to the normal coloration of his people and makes his green0colored markings more noticeable. His gray hair hangs to his chin and is usually pulled back into a top knot to facilitate archery. His eyes are a lightly brown with a slightly more almond shape than the rest of his people. His features are youthful and graceful, belying a bit of his naïveté, innocence, and youth. His clothing, or lack thereof, is designed to give him the greatest range of movement, preferring a leather bolero vest paired with tailored pants of linen or leather. A cross stitched leather built holds a stiletto, fletching and carving knives, and has a place to mount a short quiver. Like most Myrullat, he doesn’t wear shoes. His expanded equipment for when he is away from home includes a medium weight, full length cloak in dark green, linen shirts and extra clothing, a short quiver, a large quiver, a rucksack, assorted bows, arrows, feathers, strips of leather, and a pair of leather sandals known in the Stenmalkk as arro’zuko: leather feet. Special Skills: Trained from his coming of age in Pémi’lla Fuq to be a hunter, Isiloka has the necessary abilities to remain on an hunt for extended periods of time and make critical, sniper worthy shots. He is skilled in the arts of tracking and archery as well as climbing and scaling, natural practice for living among the suspended housing of his home city. He has received extensive tutoring in carpentry, allowing him to craft his own bows as well as fletching to create his own arrows. He also learned the skills of knot-tying from time spent at the docks of his home. Strengths: Expert Archer, naturally agile and quick, adept at climbing, swimming, and tracking. Expert bowyer and Fletcher. Conversationally adept in several languages, passable in many more. Hunter training has also made him an adept survivalist. Weaknesses: Pride, low stamina threshold prevents extended bouts of physical activity or Channeling, lack of strength limits attack options, easily identifiable in a crowd, aversion to arid or cold environments, socially despondent and reclusive, lack of trust. Personality: Isiloka is an incredibly introverted person, preferring to move alone than with a group and, while not completely contrary to his society’s communal nature, has made him a bit of an outcast. But it serves him well in his pursuits on the hunt. It does make him less trusting in social situations and more likely to run than to stay and discuss or fight. He also believes that support is usually not available and is therefore extremely cautious when entering into combat or an aggressive situation, preferring to avoid drawn out conflict as much as possible. It is possible to bring him out of his shell through intrigue. Confusing Isiloka is one of the easiest ways to gain his attention. The other is appealing to his skill or sense of accomplishment. In the past he has followed a group if he is interested in what they might have said in a tavern or passing on the street, watching from afar to see if they would be amiable to his inclusion in a group. This had lead to more than one accusation of thievery and spying, which he takes as a great insult. He takes great pride in his craft, both hunting and the creating of hunting implements, and tends to be slightly haughty, nearly insulting, when dealing with what he deems as common bows and arrows. He is more accepting of people with less-than-perfect archery skills, though still displays points of hubris. Isiloka’s nature is to establish himself in a camp, be it a city or an actual camp, and then move forward and explore from that central point. This style of exploration forces him to become a regional expert of sorts, knowing the terrain, paths in and out, and the commonly viewed people exceptionally well. However, he misses the metaphysical and philosophical details of a situation, rarely understanding the motivations of higher-level life forms. This becomes problematic when he is tracking one of these sentient beings. Isiloka also has a tendency to simplify all situations down to base, almost animal like motivations and simplistic desires. This tends to make him seem socially obtuse and rude. He tends to vocalize his unhappiness rather sharply, at first through petulant pouting and the silent treatment, and later by criticizing and complaining once he is more familiar with the person or persons he is around. Once he is comfortable with a group however, he does open up, becoming much lighter hearted and energetic, becoming even jovial at times. He tends to abstain from physical contact, even in friendly situations. His apprehension at being excluded or removed from the group however does keep him a bit at arm’s length and always double guessing his actions and responses. Once earned, Isiloka is exceptionally loyal to a group however, and will stand and fight if the group is in danger or needs his assistance, even against his better instincts. History: “It’s an interesting tale, to be sure…I’m not sure you’d want to hear it all,” the young Myrullat murmured, reaching over for his tankard. His companion at the tavern table seemed intrigued. Most of them were, Xaneth that is. Intrigued in this sun-kissed swamp runner and how he came to whatever backwater alehouse he found himself in. Isiloka dé Za smiled and took a long draught of ale. “Alright…it starts in port…” The Sword of Hearts was a merchant schooner of great repute and was a local favorite in the port of Pémi’Lla Fuq whenever she made berth. The moment those large red sails were seen on the horizon, the best berth was prepared and postings for discounts for her crew at every respectable bar and house of ill repute. The town knew what to expect: the finest weapons, the most exquisite silks, the rarest spices, and the nicest men from Masrah. That was how Edercarri Zallés knew the night was going to be different. The last time the Sword had docked, she had been but a slight on the docks, scurrying around and doing her best to fletch sailors out of their hard earned coin for trinkets and bits of fruit. She hadn’t understood the flash messages or women waving with their brightest scarves. Her mother had sniffed at the notion, preferring to stand guard at the door to her favorite lover’s tavern. Momma Serra, a Xaneth woman with an eye for talent and a taste for ale had just shaken her head and smiled. She’d know one day. And Edercarri knew that day had come. When her Mother had passed, Serra had taken to wandering, leaving the bar in her hands and name. Her name and offers were among those left upon the market board where the boat would dock. She had tidied the establishment and was polishing glasses as the first men came in. She smiled up at the towering figures, pouring ale and fetching wine as her cook fed whatever bits he had shoot that day in the swamps. Crocodile stew and ale was a perfectly acceptable combination as she was concerned. It was as the crew were rowdy and well into their later rouds, Edercarri looked up and locked eyes with a dashing man with handsome almond eyes and a striking smile. And a very large hat. And a fancy sword. And it was all she could do to keep from swooning. She was no virginal maiden. No, she understood mating and had indulged herself before. But she had no lover, no partner. Yet this man, this excellent example of Masran physiology, exuded calm and control and excitement. And Edercarri responded. He ordered rounds of drinks for anyone in the tavern, even those not of his crew. And he ordered the finest spirits for him and his companion, both of whom perched at the bar. He sparkled and simpered and stayed long after the crew had left and well into the night. The next day, the Sword of Hearts sailed from Pémi’Lla Fuq with all hands and Edercarri’s bar opened late as the lady of the establishment was quite late in moving from her bed. Nine months later, Isiloka dé Za came into the world. “So yeh, I don’t know m’dad,” the young Myrullat said, slicing a hunk from something steaming and tasty smelling the other member at the bar had ordered. “Just that he was dashing and handsome and all that rot.” Isiloka grinned and took a bite, letting his companion ask something else. “Eh, that’s a loaded question. There isn’t much that was different ya know…my people like to…breed outside the box,” he murmured with a smirk. The young Isiloka had experienced little hardship for having a father of a different race. The fact that he did not know his father was of little consequence as well, despite it being out of the ordinary. What set him apart though was his skin. He was instantly noticeable with his dark skin and quick eyes. And like all good children, he dealt with the teasing by getting into fights and scrapping about. And eventually, he learned to ignore the others and sit by himself. That was when he learned to tie knots. He spent hours at the docks, perfecting his skills with rope and string, learning from the different kingdoms and races that sailed into the docks. He learned languages and shipman’s signals as well just as he returned the favor. It was a learned experience, greater than the sparring or channeling classes in his mind. He still did conditioning though, often not by choice. When older Myrullat saw him, they would chase, sending him scampering with others his age through the city and swamps just as the pursuers had once been chased. It was a tradition designed to teach evasion, strength, or agility. The smart hid in crevices and recesses, old and forgotten or new and undiscovered. The strong stood and fought or climbed to the higher rungs, learning to use the elevation changes to their advantage. But the agile. The agile ran as long as they could, dodging through crowds and across roofs. And Isiloka was agile. He earned a reputation among the children for being around a corner, across a gap, and down a ladder faster than some much older than he. The older children disliked this quality. The elders praised it. And at age 15, as he came of age, the boy was handed over to Ehizta rí Hos-to, the master hunter and marksman. From there, his days at the docks were limited. He trained in archery and tracking, learning the best way to not only find his prey, but strike it from afar. He learned beast lore, beginning to understand the different creatures that roamed around and through the city. Ehizta was not simply content with shooting a bow either. Isiloka learned to craft his own weapons and bolts, perfecting the arts that would allow him to be self sufficient in the wild should the need arise. Ehizta taught him how to stab with a knife, aiming for vital organs and blood ways. He also taught him to Channel like a hunter: to walk across the bog with greater acuity, to channel the Leyht to practically see where to shoot to strike his target, to boost speed and agility. He learned how to hide, to strike, to move, and to flee. And at the age of 22, Isiloka was sent on his first solo excursion. He was sent after a thief who had taken an ancient book from the Myrullat shrine. It was a text of great importance, but not irreplaceable: the perfect way to show his worth to the community. He set out over bog, tracking the Xaneth by her stumbling steps and broken plants. Her control in the suffocating swamp was that of a novice. And the apprentice hunter tracked her to a camp at the edge of the causeway. If she made the road, he’d never catch her. As night fell and shadows lengthened, he steeled himself and drew his bow of handcrafted Rosethorn wood and, with arrow notched, Channeled, and let loose his bolt, signature blue of blue plumes visible from his targets neck just a moment later. He stole into her camp, took the book and the stiletto dagger that he still carried today before returning to Pémi’Lla Fuq. “So I was a Journeyman then…still am,” Isiloka told his companion, playing with his dagger and grinning amusedly. “I just wander now. Taking a job or whatnot when necessary.” He speared an apple, dessert from his companion as payment for his tale and insight into his culture. He blinked, chewing softly as his companion asked another question. He grinned wolfishly, the apple disappearing behind slightly elongated fangs. “What am I doing here? In Tolvera?” the Myurllat asked incredulously, leaning forward. “Are ya daft man? The Incident of course. Everyone’s heard about the Tolvera Incident.” He laughed and leaned back, picking up another slice of fruit. “Anyone worth their salt is here now.”

I've always liked the term Magistair, pulling it from some elven lore. What about Meister? *shrugs* I plugged master into the translator and let it run wild. Haha.

Madame does seem to be more...perhaps noble? Maybe even merchant class. Not academic though. No, Master seems to fit there best. *nods nods*

Thank ya Jess! Nya, I think the Master fits in this sense. Mistress or Madame are better reserved for women of less repute than your Sayuri. Quite a lot less by my estimate. Oooo...encyclopedia. I like the idea of the encyclopedia. Annnd now a note on my boredom at work: I drew a map of the Stenmalkk Swamps. With colored pencils. Wooooo. *headdesk*

Good to meet you both Chaos and Matt. And yes! Haha. I just finished reading Sayruri's profile and had not realized how similar our cultures came out to be. What is it about the southern points of a country that make it so community oriented? Hummm...intriguing. I must say, I love the Leyari and Madame Sayuri. It's so freaking elegant. Almost the complete inverse of that previous statement. But yes, I do look forward to seeing how the cultures interact once they meet.

City of Pémi’Lla Fuq Constructed of wood harvested from the swamp, salvaged from the wrecks of ships, and from the occasional Ironwood branch, Pémi’Lla Fuq exists at the mercy of the tides and tempests of the sea. The largest settlement in the entire Stenmalkk, the city serves as a cultural hub for the Myrullat people as well as their traditional home. Helped into existence by the guiding palm of the Seelvah, the architecture of the city provides a comfortable environment for all who come to visit, trade, or live. Like the Seelvah, the construction of their city is based in the trees and relies upon principles of balance and suspension for the buildings, connected by bridges of rope and wood or zip-lines. The lowest buildings are the storehouses, suspended only thirty meters above the waterline. The highest buildings are nearly two hundred meters above the waterline. In addition to large structures, open air patios, bazaars, and places for markets are present above ground. During the month of lowest tides, the open air center of the city with its large, black stone floor hosts a giant market and a site for pilgrimage for the Myrullat people. An open port with an extensive floating dock complex that is tethered to the Ironwood to allow it to float with the tides extends into the lagoon and river. Because of its busy docks and multiracial populous, Pémi’Lla Fuq exists under a code of neutrality, tumultuously enforced by a hired force that does little more than keep the city from falling apart completely. Legitimate business and thieved goods mix in the hanging storerooms and floating warehouses of the city as crews of similar reputes mingle in her taverns and brothels. The only real rule is that money talks, and death had best be silent. Divided into three quarters, the city boasts a mostly free idea of movement. Both the Residential and Trade quarters welcome people of all races and creeds. Only the Culture Quarter, the smallest section of the city on the northern arc of the rock island, is restricted: this is the Myrullat quarter and only they may enter. It is here that their cultural identity is kept and preserved and where their Channeling techniques are guarded and taught. History Work in Progress City Visitor's Guide Work in Progress

Stenmalkk Swamps Geography: Nestled in an ancient tidal basin, the Stenmalkk Swamps are an example of the brackish tidal deltas that prove so dangerous for travelers along the southern shores of Alteiryn. By far the largest and most expansive of these marshes, the Stenmalkk has earned some fame and notoriety for the sheer number of travelers swallowed by the muck of lost into the mist. There are three principle rivers that ender into the Swamps: the Pena, the Pona, and the Bideeze. The Pena is the furthest West and is the calmest of the three. It intrudes a fair distance into the murk and it does have the largest number of tributaries branching from the main route. The Pona is the most volatile of the rivers and is situated the furthest East. This river penetrates the swamps almost to the edge of the basin and is exceptionally prone to flooding. Some Myrullat hermits are the only know inhabitants of this part of the swamp. The Bideeze has the largest mouth onto the sea and also provides one of the most stable tidal swells. It is on this river that the city of Pémi’Lla Fuq rests as well as several ruins further upstream. The ancient Xanthei Causeway loosely follows this river down to a large stone base, thought to have once been a signal tower or lighthouse. It has been modified in modern times to reach other parts of the swamp, though the construction never seems to stand up to the elements in the swamp and the Causeway, both old and new, has fallen into significant disrepair. Due to the influence of the rivers and the tides, the physical geography of the swamps is almost always changing. The Causeways mark out some of the few patches of nearly permanent solid ground and are still the greatest chance of safety to those unfamiliar with murky terrains or squelsh, a combination of mud, sand and water that tends to drag travelers down to a horrifying, choking death . The primary composition of the inner swamps is more solid clays, soils, and mud. The water from springs within the area does have some effect on soil composition. There are more fresh water plants in the inner Swamp and as the murk gives way to the walls of the tidal basin. Pockets of land in this area are larger and tend to be more stable, providing adequate places to camp. South of the fork in the Causeway, it is not recommended that travelers stray too far from the beaten path or make camp if they are unfamiliar with the nature of the terrain. It is beyond this point when the truly brackish water begins and the most treacherous parts of the swamps are found. Known as the middle swamps or the Squelchings, this area involves the most turmoil in terms of shifting soil compositions and quality. Vegetation here is dense, though largely unknown owing to the rapid shifts and adaptations in species in the area. The lower swamps are more sandy, owing to their proximity to the shore and salt waters. While the land here does have great variability, it does have one feature that makes it far less treacherous than the middle swamps: rock. Large outcroppings of stone dot the areas of the lower swamp, suggesting a once great structure or natural formation. Vegetation is sparse here, though the Ironwood trees grow well upon the rocky outcroppings. Leyography Current Leyogrophers have plotted a Line entering the Stenmalkk in the northern extremes, running along the Causeway and through the city of Pémi’Lla Fuq before heading out across the ocean and towards the islands of the Alteiryn archipelago. There is a large branch of the line that seeps out in the middle swamps and The Line’s influence is generally marked for the unstable nature of the Squelchings as well as the natural adaptations of the Myrullat and strength of the Ironwood trees supporting the city itself. Many Leyogrophers argue about the black perforation on the top of the rock where the city sits. The most popular opinion is that a Node once existed here, but that the Garick War’s influence reached here through more than just refugees and those escaping the fighting. According to the theory, when the two Nodes were destroyed, the resulting collapse in Lines meant that this node disappeared. It would explain the concentration of structures in the area. However, no records or research have ever proven this theory to be true. Bestiary: Life in the Stenmalkk is wide and varied. Besides the multitude of insects, reptiles, fish, avians, and amphibians travelers expect in the swamps, some notable creatures do exist here. Below is a sampling of the most noteworthy and famous. Other species and variations do exist, but they are either undocumented, or not unique to the Stenmalkk and therefore not catalogued here. Fern Stalker: a large, landed bird, these creatures are found primarily in the upper swamps. Their wide, webbed feet allow them to run across the muck with surprising agility. They are extremely territorial and nests should be avoided at all times, especially during the summer months when mating and hatching occurs. Muskerlloka: the largest reptile in the Stenmalkk, muskerllokas are much like their smaller cousin, the alligator. Presumed to be an adaptation born of Leyht, these creatures can grow to nearly twenty feet in length. Propelling themselves on anywhere from four to twenty-four legs, they can move surprisingly fast. They have been known to pull down sections of the Causeway, mud boats, or even ships to capture prey. Ranging from docile to hostile, these creatures are unpredictable at best. The Myrullat avoid them, considering them protectors of the swamps Spirit. Their skin is prized for its strength and flexibility and some of the most expensive armors are made from the material, though they are very rare owing to the skill and strength needed to down one of these massive beasts. Pozopennía: arguably the most deadly thing in the swamp, these fist sized insects have a bite that is nearly always fatal. They use a compressed neurotoxin that paralyzes the motor skills of their prey. A second bit from the same stinger brings death. To feed, the pozopennía uses a second stinger to extract bodily fluids from its prey. Their neurotoxin is prized as a poison reagent and rumors suggest that local inhabitants known not only how to counteract its effects, but also how to harvest it safely. Myrullat: the only known higher-level thinking species from the Swamp. For more information, see the compendium on Known Races of Thought. History Work in Progress

Isiloka dé Za Myrullat/Masrah Marksman Player Information Name: Jay Contact Information: [email protected], AIM: CorinFirestorm Character Information Name: Isiloka dé Za, Isil for short Race: Myrullat/Masrah half-breed. Age: 28 Gender: Male Place of Origin: Pémi’Lla Fuq, Stenmalkk Class: Journeyman Marksman Relationship Status: Unattached Channeling Capacity: -Type: Internal -Focus Used: Isiloka primarily uses channeling for three things: the first is silencing his footfalls; the second is improving his accuracy; and the third is for increasing his ability to run across the mudflats of the Stenmalkk Swamp. He also has some ability to use it to increase his dexterity or speed, though these benefits are mild at best. His physical Focus is a leather band kept around his right wrist, the hand with which he draws his bow, that is inset with markings identifying him as a Hunter to his people. -Degree of Skill: Moderate. His lack of stamina reserves his Channeling to one-shot-kill or do-or-die scenarios and limits his ability to employ them for long periods of time or rapid succession. Appearance: Slight of frame and stature, Isiloka dé Za is still easily located in a crowd of his people. While still graceful and quick like the majority of his people, his darkened tan skin is in stark contrast to the normal coloration of his people and makes his green0colored markings more noticeable. His gray hair hangs to his chin and is usually pulled back into a top knot to facilitate archery. His eyes are a lightly brown with a slightly more almond shape than the rest of his people. His features are youthful and graceful, belying a bit of his naïveté, innocence, and youth. His clothing, or lack thereof, is designed to give him the greatest range of movement, preferring a leather bolero vest paired with tailored pants of linen or leather. A cross stitched leather built holds a stiletto, fletching and carving knives, and has a place to mount a short quiver. Like most Myrullat, he doesn’t wear shoes. His expanded equipment for when he is away from home includes a medium weight, full length cloak in dark green, linen shirts and extra clothing, a short quiver, a large quiver, a rucksack, assorted bows, arrows, feathers, strips of leather, and a pair of leather sandals known in the Stenmalkk as arro’zuko: leather feet. Special Skills: Trained from his coming of age in Pémi’lla Fuq to be a hunter, Isiloka has the necessary abilities to remain on an hunt for extended periods of time and make critical, sniper worthy shots. He is skilled in the arts of tracking and archery as well as climbing and scaling, natural practice for living among the suspended housing of his home city. He has received extensive tutoring in carpentry, allowing him to craft his own bows as well as fletching to create his own arrows. He also learned the skills of knot-tying from time spent at the docks of his home. Strengths: Expert Archer, naturally agile and quick, adept at climbing, swimming, and tracking. Expert bowyer and Fletcher. Conversationally adept in several languages, passable in many more. Hunter training has also made him an adept survivalist. Weaknesses: Pride, low stamina threshold prevents extended bouts of physical activity or Channeling, lack of strength limits attack options, easily identifiable in a crowd, aversion to arid or cold environments, socially despondent and reclusive, lack of trust. Personality: Isiloka is an incredibly introverted person, preferring to move alone than with a group and, while not completely contrary to his society’s communal nature, has made him a bit of an outcast. But it serves him well in his pursuits on the hunt. It does make him less trusting in social situations and more likely to run than to stay and discuss or fight. He also believes that support is usually not available and is therefore extremely cautious when entering into combat or an aggressive situation, preferring to avoid drawn out conflict as much as possible. It is possible to bring him out of his shell through intrigue. Confusing Isiloka is one of the easiest ways to gain his attention. The other is appealing to his skill or sense of accomplishment. In the past he has followed a group if he is interested in what they might have said in a tavern or passing on the street, watching from afar to see if they would be amiable to his inclusion in a group. This had lead to more than one accusation of thievery and spying, which he takes as a great insult. He takes great pride in his craft, both hunting and the creating of hunting implements, and tends to be slightly haughty, nearly insulting, when dealing with what he deems as common bows and arrows. He is more accepting of people with less-than-perfect archery skills, though still displays points of hubris. Isiloka’s nature is to establish himself in a camp, be it a city or an actual camp, and then move forward and explore from that central point. This style of exploration forces him to become a regional expert of sorts, knowing the terrain, paths in and out, and the commonly viewed people exceptionally well. However, he misses the metaphysical and philosophical details of a situation, rarely understanding the motivations of higher-level life forms. This becomes problematic when he is tracking one of these sentient beings. Isiloka also has a tendency to simplify all situations down to base, almost animal like motivations and simplistic desires. This tends to make him seem socially obtuse and rude. He tends to vocalize his unhappiness rather sharply, at first through petulant pouting and the silent treatment, and later by criticizing and complaining once he is more familiar with the person or persons he is around. Once he is comfortable with a group however, he does open up, becoming much lighter hearted and energetic, becoming even jovial at times. He tends to abstain from physical contact, even in friendly situations. His apprehension at being excluded or removed from the group however does keep him a bit at arm’s length and always double guessing his actions and responses. Once earned, Isiloka is exceptionally loyal to a group however, and will stand and fight if the group is in danger or needs his assistance, even against his better instincts. History: “It’s an interesting tale, to be sure…I’m not sure you’d want to hear it all,” the young Myrullat murmured, reaching over for his tankard. His companion at the tavern table seemed intrigued. Most of them were, Xaneth that is. Intrigued in this sun-kissed swamp runner and how he came to whatever backwater alehouse he found himself in. Isiloka dé Za smiled and took a long draught of ale. “Alright…it starts in port…” The Sword of Hearts was a merchant schooner of great repute and was a local favorite in the port of Pémi’Lla Fuq whenever she made berth. The moment those large red sails were seen on the horizon, the best berth was prepared and postings for discounts for her crew at every respectable bar and house of ill repute. The town knew what to expect: the finest weapons, the most exquisite silks, the rarest spices, and the nicest men from Masrah. That was how Edercarri Zallés knew the night was going to be different. The last time the Sword had docked, she had been but a slight on the docks, scurrying around and doing her best to fletch sailors out of their hard earned coin for trinkets and bits of fruit. She hadn’t understood the flash messages or women waving with their brightest scarves. Her mother had sniffed at the notion, preferring to stand guard at the door to her favorite lover’s tavern. Momma Serra, a Xaneth woman with an eye for talent and a taste for ale had just shaken her head and smiled. She’d know one day. And Edercarri knew that day had come. When her Mother had passed, Serra had taken to wandering, leaving the bar in her hands and name. Her name and offers were among those left upon the market board where the boat would dock. She had tidied the establishment and was polishing glasses as the first men came in. She smiled up at the towering figures, pouring ale and fetching wine as her cook fed whatever bits he had shoot that day in the swamps. Crocodile stew and ale was a perfectly acceptable combination as she was concerned. It was as the crew were rowdy and well into their later rouds, Edercarri looked up and locked eyes with a dashing man with handsome almond eyes and a striking smile. And a very large hat. And a fancy sword. And it was all she could do to keep from swooning. She was no virginal maiden. No, she understood mating and had indulged herself before. But she had no lover, no partner. Yet this man, this excellent example of Masran physiology, exuded calm and control and excitement. And Edercarri responded. He ordered rounds of drinks for anyone in the tavern, even those not of his crew. And he ordered the finest spirits for him and his companion, both of whom perched at the bar. He sparkled and simpered and stayed long after the crew had left and well into the night. The next day, the Sword of Hearts sailed from Pémi’Lla Fuq with all hands and Edercarri’s bar opened late as the lady of the establishment was quite late in moving from her bed. Nine months later, Isiloka dé Za came into the world. “So yeh, I don’t know m’dad,” the young Myrullat said, slicing a hunk from something steaming and tasty smelling the other member at the bar had ordered. “Just that he was dashing and handsome and all that rot.” Isiloka grinned and took a bite, letting his companion ask something else. “Eh, that’s a loaded question. There isn’t much that was different ya know…my people like to…breed outside the box,” he murmured with a smirk. The young Isiloka had experienced little hardship for having a father of a different race. The fact that he did not know his father was of little consequence as well, despite it being out of the ordinary. What set him apart though was his skin. He was instantly noticeable with his dark skin and quick eyes. And like all good children, he dealt with the teasing by getting into fights and scrapping about. And eventually, he learned to ignore the others and sit by himself. That was when he learned to tie knots. He spent hours at the docks, perfecting his skills with rope and string, learning from the different kingdoms and races that sailed into the docks. He learned languages and shipman’s signals as well just as he returned the favor. It was a learned experience, greater than the sparring or channeling classes in his mind. He still did conditioning though, often not by choice. When older Myrullat saw him, they would chase, sending him scampering with others his age through the city and swamps just as the pursuers had once been chased. It was a tradition designed to teach evasion, strength, or agility. The smart hid in crevices and recesses, old and forgotten or new and undiscovered. The strong stood and fought or climbed to the higher rungs, learning to use the elevation changes to their advantage. But the agile. The agile ran as long as they could, dodging through crowds and across roofs. And Isiloka was agile. He earned a reputation among the children for being around a corner, across a gap, and down a ladder faster than some much older than he. The older children disliked this quality. The elders praised it. And at age 15, as he came of age, the boy was handed over to Ehizta rí Hos-to, the master hunter and marksman. From there, his days at the docks were limited. He trained in archery and tracking, learning the best way to not only find his prey, but strike it from afar. He learned beast lore, beginning to understand the different creatures that roamed around and through the city. Ehizta was not simply content with shooting a bow either. Isiloka learned to craft his own weapons and bolts, perfecting the arts that would allow him to be self sufficient in the wild should the need arise. Ehizta taught him how to stab with a knife, aiming for vital organs and blood ways. He also taught him to Channel like a hunter: to walk across the bog with greater acuity, to channel the Leyht to practically see where to shoot to strike his target, to boost speed and agility. He learned how to hide, to strike, to move, and to flee. And at the age of 22, Isiloka was sent on his first solo excursion. He was sent after a thief who had taken an ancient book from the Myrullat shrine. It was a text of great importance, but not irreplaceable: the perfect way to show his worth to the community. He set out over bog, tracking the Xaneth by her stumbling steps and broken plants. Her control in the suffocating swamp was that of a novice. And the apprentice hunter tracked her to a camp at the edge of the causeway. If she made the road, he’d never catch her. As night fell and shadows lengthened, he steeled himself and drew his bow of handcrafted Rosethorn wood and, with arrow notched, Channeled, and let loose his bolt, signature blue of blue plumes visible from his targets neck just a moment later. He stole into her camp, took the book and the stiletto dagger that he still carried today before returning to Pémi’Lla Fuq. “So I was a Journeyman then…still am,” Isiloka told his companion, playing with his dagger and grinning amusedly. “I just wander now. Taking a job or whatnot when necessary.” He speared an apple, dessert from his companion as payment for his tale and insight into his culture. He blinked, chewing softly as his companion asked another question. He grinned wolfishly, the apple disappearing behind slightly elongated fangs. “What am I doing here? In Tolvera?” the Myurllat asked incredulously, leaning forward. “Are ya daft man? The Incident of course. Everyone’s heard about the Tolvera Incident.” He laughed and leaned back, picking up another slice of fruit. “Anyone worth their salt is here now.”

Region of Stenmalkk Southern most continental point of Alteiryn Far to the south, past ruins of civilization and great cities left barren, and where the roads have long given way to worn cart wheels and the occasional markers of paths lays the expanse that is the Stenmalkk Swamps. Here, the air is thick with sulfur and salt and solid ground gives way to squelching soil hiding all nature of pitfall and treasure, shrouded in mists when the sun is high. A broken causeway stretches into the mists, clinging to little patches of solid ground in a desperate attempt to ward off the inevitable march of time and tides. Further down the rickety path, it branches, letting travelers pick their own way across the treacherous soil. The most solid and stable of these routes leads to a man-made island, a sparse sight this far into the shifting soil. The perfectly square foundation is all that remains of an ancient tower, now repurposed as the landing of a new, more impressive bridge that leads to the only point of significant elevation in the entire expanse at the furthest edges of the marsh, where the river began to flow again and the sea was on the horizon. Atop the hill lies a forest, dense and tall, comprised of old trees rooted to a large outcrop of stone. The Ironwood survives the storms of the sea and the daily batter of the tide, the roots digging themselves into the stones itself and leaving only one area of the outcropping barren: a perfect circle of shining black rock. And it was in this forest, among the branches above the rock, that the city of Pémi’Lla Fuq rested.

Per Mosh's orders... The Myrullat Lore: The Myrullat exist in small communities throughout the Stenmalkk and the southern coasts of Alteriyn, preferring warm and humid climates to the more temperate reaches of the rest of the continent. Tales state that they were humans that ran to the swamps to escape death and forgot how to be civilized. These tales also state that they were helped out of the muck by Seelvah. Physical Characteristics: The Myrullat maintain a fairly normal humanoid appearance. Owing to generations of living within the swamp and the effects of the Ley Line’s powers, their physiology has adapted to facilitate their existence. Their stature is thin and reedy in appearance, owing to the lighter quality of their bones. Males stand at an average of 5 foot, 6 inches while females average at 5 foot, 2 inches in height. They are also slender in weight, rarely weighing more than 130 pounds. Pigmentation has been affected by their habitat as well, resulting in more pallid tones for 80% of their skin and in large patches of colored skin on their forearms, necks, legs, chests, and back; this skin color has taken on different hues, ranging from pale greens to light browns. Hair remains mostly normal in comparison to other humanoids, though reds and blonde hues are more muted. Eyes are more reptilian, having a pupil that is slightly elongated vertically and possessing a second lid to facilitate sight under water. Their feet are also elongated and are extremely dexterous and have webbing between their toes. Ley Capacity: Moderately strong in Channeling abilities, the Myrullat do have some true adepts. Most members who live in the Stenmalkk tend to demonstrate higher than average proficiency, owing to the proximity to a large branch of a Line. Most of the species demonstrate profound abilities with brackish or salt water and mud, earning a reputation as water cultivation experts. The youngest Myrullat have also been seen practicing Channeling to increase their ability to run atop the shifting soils in the marsh, leading to the popular pastime, Pod Hopping. Culture: Relatively young in terms of peoples, the Myrullat exist in communal establishments throughout the swamps of southern Alteriyn. Pémi’Lla Fuq is seen as their cultural home and place of origin and is where their most important artifacts and their cultural histories are kept. Their leadership is based largely in precedence and what is best for the commune, dissent being an avid part of their community until the decision has been made. All work and wealth are shared among the families, though property such as weapons, clothing, and anything that might be considered heirlooms are considered private property. Disputes and crimes are handled by a tribunal consisting of the strongest warrior, the richest merchant, and the oldest shaman. Family structure within the communes is usually fluid, with the children being nurtured and educated by most of the members of the society in turn. Roles in society, both domestic and public, are shared equally within society and family units with a person’s unique abilities being the focus of their role in society and a partnership. Mating is socially looked upon as an act of procreation, not of affection and therefore, the best combination of compatible attributes from both parents is sought. For example: a strong female warrior would seek an intelligent male to mate with so as to achieve the best results for their offspring. Some mating pairs remain exclusive while others seek to diversify their results and offspring. Coming of age is generally around 15 with apprenticeship lasting until 26. The average Myrullat has a lifespan of nearly 220 years, providing they do not indulge in too much strenuous activity or Channeling. The Myrullat are generally accommodating, if standoffish when faced with other races. Cross-species mating is common as the humanoid qualities and thin, graceful features of the species make them desirable to many of their visitors: brothels featuring specifically Myrullat prostitutes are extremely popular among Xaneth of many regions. Sample Names: Nekatuta ís Cal, Hilgarra zú Haiz, Lortxi Ki, Indarts Uaura. Males have the two letter contractions in between names. (Note: Basque language was used in Google translator; two words were entered and then results combined to create the names.)

Ummmm....Hullo! Name's Jay, pleasure and all that. I blame the illustrious KChan for my arrival. And I look forward to meeting and having fun with you all.