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moonlightpaladin · 2 years

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Xaela Tribes

Sourced from here. I wanted to have these in one place to reference.

Adarkim: The largest of the Xaela tribes. While not the most skilled at battle, they overwhelm with numbers, taking losses in stride, knowing that a future victory over a weaker tribe will replenish their ranks.

Angura: A small tribe which keeps mainly to the mountainous region of northeastern Othard. The glare reflected by the everlasting glaciers upon which they travel has rendered this tribe's skin color a deep rusty tone.

Arulaq: A tribe thought lost 200 years ago, only recently discovered once again living in a secluded valley in the mountainous north.

Avagnar: Though defeated and absorbed by the Adarkim, several of the proud tribe's members still secretly use its ancestral name, knowing that it could mean death if they are discovered.

Bairon: A middle-sized tribe of the southern deserts and masters of survival in the driest of climes, the Bairon are all trained from a very young age to collect and drink their own bodily fluids, allowing them the ability to venture deep into places no other tribe will.

Bayaqud: A tribe of the steppe's western edges. Women from the Bayaqud tribe will traditionally take several husbands, as did the tribe's founding matron 2000 years ago.

Bolir: A small tribe that earns its living by collecting the dung of the beastkin herds which roam the steppes. The dung is dried, turned into charcoal in temporary kilns, and sold to other tribes.

Borlaaq: A tribe of all women. While breeding with men from other tribes is allowed, if a male is born into the tribe, he is given up within a year of birth.

Buduga: An all-male tribe which only increases its ranks through battle and kidnapping.

Chaghan: An offshoot of the Qerel tribe, these warriors enter a berserker rage known as the Will of Karash, which they believe to be a blessing from the Dusk Mother. They commit all manner of heinous acts when Karash takes hold, and some would even slay their own kin and claim it in the name of Mother Nhaama.

Dalamiq: One of only a few Xaela tribes which has abandoned the nomadic lifestyle and built a small village on an islet in the middle of a two-malm-wide span of the great inner river. It is said they once worshipped the now-fallen lesser moon.

Dataq: The Dataq cover quite possibly the most area in their migrations, for they rarely stop in one area for longer than a few bells. Sleeping is all done in the saddle, and tents are only used when the rains are heavy and unbearable.

Dazkar: Household duties such as cooking, cleaning, and childrearing are handled by the males of the Dazkar who, other than when on the move, rarely ever leave their family's yurts. Female Dazkar are tasked with hunting, and are known across the steppe as being some of the most accurate archers in the realm.

Dhoro: An elusive tribe that avoids contact with most other tribes. Lookouts are posted all about their camps with orders to flee given the moment an outsider is spotted.

Dotharl: An extremely violent tribe with members who revel in massacre and are taught from a young age not to fear death. While they are quick to attack other tribes, mortality rates are high, ensuring that their numbers never grow too high.

Ejinn: A river tribe that chooses to swim from place to place rather than walk or take boats. It is said that members of the Ejinn can hold their breaths for up to a quarter bell, and will often migrate while almost completely submerged in order to avoid contact with hostile tribes.

Geneq: In addition to the standard language used by most of the Xaela in cross-tribe communication, the Geneq employ a complex system of whistles and clicks which resemble the cloud- and wavekin of the steppe.

Gesi: The Gesi are masters of the slingspear, a mid-sized javelin carved from mammoth bone which, instead of being thrown by hand, is flung with a leather sling to improve range, speed, and killing power.

Gharl: Before each migration, the Gharl will fill a sacred urn with the soil of the place they just camped. This soil is then dumped upon arriving at the next location. This tradition has been carried out for thousands of years, leading people to believe that most the steppe is now all of one soil.

Goro: The Goro believe horses to be perfect beings, and each male and female, upon their coming of age, is married to a horse of the opposite sex. Reproductive mates are chosen by lots.

Haragin: The legends of this coastal tribe tell of a group of their ancestors who crafted a giant ship and sailed out across the endless eastern ocean. The explorers are said to have returned with tales of a terrible island covered in massive grey monoliths and inhabited by fire-breathing steel demons.

Himaa: For reasons unknown, one out of every three pregnancies amongst the Himaa result in twins. As a result, over half the tribe's members have a doppelganger. This can prove an advantage during attacks, as it confuses the enemy into believing the dead have risen.

Horo: To those who live the meager lifestyles of the steppedwellers, being overweight is a symbol of affluence and power. To appear heavier than one in their station, the members of Horo will drink copious amounts of water to bloat their bellies.

Hotgo: A tribe recently massacred by the Dotharl. The only members surviving are those who left the tribe to travel on their own and were not present during the killing. The Hotgo were known for their vibrant face paints which members would constantly change depending on their current mood.

Iriq: A tribe that follows the Borlaaq, taking on any male children given up by the female warriors and raising them as their own.

Jhungid: The second largest Xaela tribe. Mortal enemies with the Kharlu, the Jungid will spend the greater part of the year subjugating smaller tribes to swell their own ranks in preparation for an annual battle with the Kharlu—the winner gaining control over a large part of the eastern coastlands.

Kagon: The Kagon are a nocturnal desert tribe who worship Nhaama, goddess of the moon and mortal enemy of Azim, god of the sun. Instructed by their goddess that to step into the sun is to succumb to the evil of Azim, they spend the daylight hours in their tents, only emerging to hunt and migrate at night. The result is an uncharacteristically pale skin for a group of people living in an almost eternally fair-weather locale.

Kahkol: A tribe made up of orphans and refugees from tribes defeated or destroyed. Many choose to combine the name of their old tribe with Kahkol.

Kha: Unlike most of the Xaela, the Kha live on the fringes of the Xaela lands, actively seeking contact with non Auri peoples, introducing many aspects of those cultures into their own.

Kharlu: The third largest Xaela tribe. Mortal enemies with the Jungid, the Kharlu will spend the greater part of the year subjugating smaller tribes to swell their own ranks in preparation for an annual battle with the Jungid—the winner gaining control over a large part of the eastern coastlands.

Khatayin: A tribe which largely remains unseen, hunting goats in the mountains for nine moons of the year. The remaining three are spent at the foot of the great north range, where they survive off the dried meat they stocked.

Malagud: One of the only tribes that accepts people of the Raen—those that have been exiled, or those who have fled persecution—into their circle.

Malqir: A western steppe tribe characterized by its unique leader-choosing ritual which, instead of the usual test of brawn, is a game of Kharaqiq—a chess-like game played on a circular board divided into three rings.

Mankhad: A costal tribe which fights with blow-darts made from bones dipped in the poison of the pufferfish. So practiced with the pipes are the tribe, that they can disable a target from 200 paces.

Mierqid: A desert tribe which, over the course of a year, travels between over a hundred secret buried caches of supplies restocked with each annual visit.

Moks: A tribe invisible for the fact that its members are spread out across many different tribes (unbeknownst to those tribes). Communication between its members is done on the rare occasion when two tribes meet, through an ancient set of hand signals only recognizable by those who know what they are looking for.

Mol: A small tribe of devout worshippers of the elder gods, the Mol will consult with their deities (via a shaman conduit) before making any tribe-related decisions, from the direction of their next migration, to the beasts they will hunt each day for food.

Noykin: Master trainers of the wild horses which populate the majority of steppe. It is said that the horsewives of the Noykin can break any beast if given but a week.

Olkund: Selective breeding has seen the average height of the central steppe-dwelling Olkund tribe males reach over two and a half yalms. The females, for whatever reason, remain of an average height.

Orben: A tribe that rides up and down the great inner river on boats woven from reeds and reinforced with scales from their own skin.

Orl: A tribe that fled Othard in the wake of Garlean occupation. Several of the Orl found their way to the highlands of Coerthas but misconceptions of Au Ra being of Dravanian descent led Ishgardian soldiers to slaughter them indiscriminately. There is only known to be one survivor of this tribe.

Oronir: All members of the Oronir tribe believe themselves to be direct descendants of Azim, the tribe's god of the sun.

Oroq: The Oroq create sleds made of reeds dipped in horse fat to help move their possessions and young children about the inner grasslands.

Qalli: Also known as the songbirds of the steppe, the Qalli communicate through song, attaching a melody to their words to further add emotion to the meaning.

Qerel: The warriors of this tribe all wear complete suits of armor crafted from the bones of steppe tigers which they kill with their own hands upon their coming of age.

Qestir: This tribe refuses to speak, believing that all words are lies, and that a man's actions are the purest form of communication.

Sagahl: A tribe which sees all beastkin as equals with man, therefore refuses to eat or use them as beasts of burden. As a result, the diet of the Sagahl mainly consists of steppe shrubs and vilekin.

Torgud: This desert tribe does not wear any clothes, choosing instead to cover their bodies almost entirely in a white paint created from mud, lime, and bone meal. The paint helps to reflect the relentless desert sun.

Tumet: The children of the Tumet, upon seeing their tenth summer, are tied to a sacred tree while the remainder of the tribe packs up and moves to their next location. Those children who manage to break free from their bonds and catch up with the tribe at that next location, are given a name and allowed into the tribe.

Ugund: When members of this tribe die, their heads are removed from their bodies and placed in a jar of fermented goat milk. Once the liquid has been drunk by the head (in other words, evaporated), the head is then buried under an anthill so that the tiny workers can carry the spirit to the afterlife. The journey is thought to be a terrible one, the road filled with ghosts of the damned, so ensuring the spirit is drunk helps ease the journey.

Ura: This mountain-dwelling tribe is one of the few which instead of hunting, mine the precious ores of the peaks and trade them with the steppe tribes for food.

Urumet: This desert tribe has the queer custom of travelling with their elders carried upon their shoulders. It is believed that in the flat desert, this gives the tribe the advantage of being able to see farther.

Uyagir: One of a handful of Xaela tribes which have given up the nomadic lifestyle. The Uyagir reside in a system of limestone caves on the northern edge of the southern deserts which are believed to have been dug by a race of giant oliphant-like beetles which were placed on the land by the gods to punish the elder tribes that had grown too greedy.

#long post #ffxiv #lore #au ra #xaela #missy rambles #these will be good to reference when i finally write more about Dal's tribe #currently his tribe isn't Weird enough. I need them to be Weirder. need a Quirk

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duisarcusxiv · 2 months

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2,28,37 for sagra :3

oooooh thank u :3

2 - How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Fairly easy! He's not a super vocal person, but he's very lighthearted, so if you do or say something funny you WILL get a chuckle or a laugh out of him ❤️

28 - Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

absolutely not. he would much rather have the unpleasant truth so he can start working on dealing with it, or fixing it, or whatever other option he may have, than to be lied to until it's too late.

37 - Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Yes! he sings a little song to remember :D It's a tune he and Sarangerel used to sing to each other when they were little and out practising hunting or fighting (and later, flying).

He also has a good head for memorizing things because he can't read - in lore, Xaela only recently created a written language, and Sagra's tribe (the Arulaq) were "lost" for a hundred years (which is about how old the written language is), so I headcanon that the Arulaq tribe doesn't have that written language. Sagra was never taught to read because his tribe simply doesn't have a written language. He was willing to learn when he came to Eorzea originally, but a few too many incredulous, snarky comments about him not knowing how to read put him off of the whole deal so badly that he refuses to learn out of spite. He hasn't needed it for the past thirty years, why should he start now?

#FFXIV #Mine #M: Sagra #THANK U !!!

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pumpkinmagekupo · 2 years

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A Lonely Star

So finally making a little Mizuki post. Stuff is subject to change. It may not be canon accurate.

And a reminder likes/follows come from my main: hanajimasama

Master list is now here: MasterlistKupo

Name: Mizuki Motte (now de Borel)

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Main job: BLM

Other canon jobs: RPR/BLU/ AST (in the later part of Heavensward)

Crafting/gathering: BTN/ALC/WVR

Age: 32 (as of Heavensward. Keeping track of time is hard.)

Chocobo: Iskander

Long post

The past: in summary.

The Steppe:

Mizuki was born on the Azim Steppe to the Arulaq tribe. She's the oldest of four. As per their tribes traditions, the eldest of the family would become a reaper to protect their tribe and guide their spirits when they died. Mizuki didn't want this. She skipped her training to explore the Steppe. Which got her into a lot of trouble.

She has a chance meeting with a dragon that spurs her desire to learn magick.

Eventually she is forced to partner with a great spirit (voidsent) and that year on her thirteenth summer. She takes part in the Nadaam and the influx of loud shouts/screams, fighting, sent Mizuki into a melt down and she unleashes a powerful spell that silences the Steppe and claims victory for her tribe: the only time they would.

An argument occurred with her father and he told her to get out. She is picked up by chance by Camélia a great sage who took her under her wing.

She meets Y'shtola during her 13-14th year (need to figure out how old she was during the Calamity) She is then taken to Sharlayan during the panic of the summoning of Bahamut.

The Sharlayan Years: 14/15? - 20/21? <due to change

Mizuki spends all of her years studying. She's very quiet and withdrawn during this time. Mizuki takes an interest in botany during a trip to Labyrinthos. Which links to her learning alchemy. If she couldn't learn the healing craft of her master, perhaps this would be just as good! She could help people this way. (it didn't help)

She joined the Studium choir, in hopes it would make Camélia proud.

Mizuki works herself into the ground: a lot. She is at the top of her classes and publishes several theses. One Camélia hates the most is: about how Mandragora can help keep the land healthy (will think of a good title)

another was: the origin of magick.

The early years of adventuring/ARR

Mizuki teams up with Cyneweard and Ghyslain two wildwood Elezen. They sought treasure and status. Mizuki was fresh out of Sharlayan and they thought having a renowned scholar of Sharlayan would help them. It did not. A few months in Cyneweard dies in a dungeon.

Mizuki gives up adventuring for now. Goes to Ul'dah and further studies at the thaumaturge guild and picks up Blue Magick which helps earn her some extra gil. She makes a name for herself within the guilds and a few years past she finds herself being swept up into the Scion business. Y'shtola is overjoyed to see her again.

I will add more!

#ramblings of a pumpkin #oc: mizuki #long post #character lore #ffxiv

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torchkeeper · 2 years

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I settled on the basics for his parents; here are Yesugen (his Mother) and Temur (his Father)

They met when she found him injured on a hunting trip. Yesugen and her friends dragged him back to their camp at her insistence, despite the fear he’d give away that the Arulaq still existed to others. He’d wandered too far off the trail from his trade caravan heading back toward the glaciers where the Angura live. He was foraging for something to eat, got knocked around in a tussle with a tiger and assumed he’d die.

It wasn’t love at first sight but she did worry over his injuries as she was a stubborn yet caring person. Temur was extremely grateful and they exchanged words on their cultures many times despite the evil eyes her friends gave them for it. Eventually he became stable but not enough to fully heal at a mere hunting camp. So, once again, Yesugen wrangled the others into bringing him as close to the home of the Arulaq without giving it away. Any further than that was impossible and she compromised by promising to continue to come help. Sometimes if she could snag someone as a helper, it would always be from the pair of friends who found him too.

As he healed they all got to know each other well; well enough that her friends might call him a good man, but not enough to go against their tribe’s sworn seclusion. Yesugen of course followed suit in the sense she wouldn’t betray that principle either, but she also considered him a genuine friend. She found him respectful, sincere, cheerful, kind, a little oblivious but earnest to get things right, he listened to her even when he didn’t understand what she talked about, and he carried compassion in his views.

Most importantly he saw himself as one part within the world, and he saw her as herself alongside her role in his life. It was that selfless quality she rarely saw in her village that kept her coming back even after he recovered. She fell in love pretty quick, to the point she made the first move and found it reciprocated. Temur had liked her from the start but getting to know her and having seen her defy convention to do the right thing sealed the deal.

They went steady for three years meeting in secret along hunting trails and spots they marked within the valleys. Their meetings were known among some of their friends on both sides. However where the Angura who knew had no idea Yesugen was an Arulaq, as Yesugen had sworn Temur to keep that to himself, the Arulaq who knew kept warning Yesugen to break it off. They feared no matter how good a man Temur was he could one day bring Angura or another tribe to conquer their people purely because that was the way of outsiders. Such a fear reportedly had been the reason the Arulaq went into hiding centuries ago in the first place.

Instead what Yesugen heard from her people was prejudice and fear of difference. She understood why they might think that, but it wasn’t her reality with how Temur acted as a person. He always gave her honesty; in her view if he wanted to somehow invade the Arulaq with his skills he’d have long figured it out too. So instead she stood by him and at times imagined running off to join the Angura- however a love of her family and friends prevented her from acting on fantasy. When she realized she was pregnant they both were overjoyed.

Then it hit that the Arulaq would never allow the child to be born or might try to separate it from her so it could be abandoned or given to another family out of shame. The thought of this angered them both and wracked them with indecision. If they left together the Arulaq elders could say Temur had kidnapped her to justify killing any Angura they came across, possibly even send hunters to find her and kill those “guarding” her; if Temur stayed to live alone in the forest, his people would come searching and likely find the Arulaq leading to more conflict. They would lose loved ones, either to a war or leaving them behind.

Temur decided taking responsibility meant revealing himself as the father in hopes he might make the villagers and elders understand their situation. He hoped appealing to their good faith and seeing his honest nature would let their fears of him betraying them prove unfounded. He even proposed taking the child with him if the Arulaq truly couldn’t stand the sight.

In return they demanded his life. He knew of them, he’d exchanged information regarding their culture, he could tell others or lead them to their homes, he’d fathered an inter-tribal child with one of them, being near him caused Yesugen to be vocal on what she doubted from her tribe, and even if he kept his word now he might change his mind in the future. Their paranoia was unshakable and so in unanimous vote Temur was told to forfeit himself in ritual execution, or be the reason his tribe were forever retaliated against.

His final request was that Yesugen tell their child about him, and to love them on his behalf. His body was set up to look like a hunting accident was the cause of death when the Angura found him. When Gan was born she honored his request no matter how everyone sought to ostracize her and her son. As a single mother she took on both traditional roles of parents in a need to ensure he was well rounded, and could care for himself when older. She taught him to be respectful while keeping his own identity, and instilled a life long love for cooking when she showed him the kitchen or sat down to eat. Her example and her death are what drive Gan to be that same pillar for his son, as well as the stories of his father’s selflessness. She received some satisfaction in having a few of those involved in Temur’s death killed discreetly, by her own hand or with those who knew him.

Temur’s name means Iron, whereas his son is Steel, and his grandson Kete is Flint Steel, three generations of improvement (and metals)

The red in Gan’s hair comes from his maternal grandmother since both his parents have black hair as dominant; his eyes, nose, and brow / eyebrows are noticeably from his mother- while his tail type, mouth, cheekbones, and eye shape are noticeably his father’s

#screenshots #i s2g i DID NOT remember ever installing the Lost Ark hair Temur is using AT ALL i had to recheck it lmao #its so good i thought it was real before i did the check and i was so disappointed its not #ofc any of this is subject to changes and expansions yada yada #it was fun designing them #hc

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dear-spider · 3 years

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world domination // ft. @octavel

#ffxiv #balmung #balmung server #screens #final fantasy a realm reborn #ffxiv arr #ffxiv a realm reborn #au ra #xaela #arulaq tribe #khojin arulaq #khojin #edits #gpose #gposer #ffxiv gpose #octavel #duskwight #elezen

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khojin-arulaq · 4 years

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mon cabaret !

#ffxiv #balmung #balmung server #screens #final fantasy a realm reborn #ffxiv arr #ffxiv a realm reborn #au ra #xaela #arulaq tribe #khojin arulaq #khojin #edits #gpose #gposer #ffxiv gpose

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fae-magic · 5 years

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“Your biggest mistake was underestimating me.”

-Sabine Arulaq

#Sabine Arulaq #blm #black mage #ffxiv #au ra #xaela #arulaq tribe #arulaq #screenshots #Sabine aesthetic #[whispers of fire]

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shirtlesslizard · 5 years

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Decided to make a banner for the Arulaq (my own interpretation).

Not official or anything, it’s very plain in color choice since I can imagine them being neutral. Being in the mountains well over 200 years, they probably prefer to remain neutral and away from other tribes.

Probably would have been nice to be vibrant, but then it would defeat the purpose of preferring their isolation in the mountain valley away from the steppe.

#ffxiv #ff14 #headcanon #The Arulaq #Arulaq #tribe #banner #Xaela #shirtlesslizart

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dahniwitchoflight · 4 years

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All of The Tribes of The Xaela, from FFXIV, sung by me to the tune of Yakko Warner’s “Nations of the World”

Lyrics:

Of the Tribes of the Steppe there’s first the Geneq, the Horo, and Goro, then Mol

Then Bairon, and Bayaqud, Ura, and Malaguld, Remember of course the Kahkol

Now there’s Adarkim, Bolir, the Sun-Children Oronir, Buduga, now the Dazkar

The Towering Olkund, the Dead Drunken Ugund, then Qerel and Tribe Avagnar

And then Dhoro, and Haragin, Secretive Khatayin, recently now Arulaq

The silent tribe Qestir, and Orben, and Uyagir, ever-migrating Dataq

There’s Feminine Borlaaq, and poisonous Mankhad, but sadly the Hotgo are gone

The Tribe of the Tumet, the Oroq and Urumet, Moks, Orl, Kha and Kagon

Jhungid and Gesi, the Songs of the Qalli, Miraculous twins of Himaa

The Malqir plays Kharaqiq, Masculine Iriq, and Cold of the North Angura

The Clay Urns of Gharl and Violent Dotharl, Furious Raging Chaghan,

There's Saghal, then Mierqid, settled-down Dalamiq,

The Warring Tribe Kharlu, The Skin Painted Torgud

The River Tribe Ejinn, The Riders of Noykin

And those are the Tribes of Xaela

*edit* I did it again but I added background music this time and also changed the pronunciation of Xaela from Jhaela to Zaela because apparently a character in FFXIV saying it with the softer ZhJ sound was part of his accent and not how it was meant to be said lol whoops

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bUrq0AXlc3E

#FFXIV #FF14 #Final Fantasy XIV #Xaela #Au Ra #Final Fantasy

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paintedscales · 5 months

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006. Arulaq

The day of the Naadam has come, and during her time there, Nomin's attention is brought to a tribe she had never seen nor heard of before thanks to Yul's excited observations. Though not much is learned from the Oroqi individuals who have traded with the Arulaq in the past, there is hope that Nomin might one day travel to see the valley they come from.

Word Count: 3,088

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

The day of the Naadam had come all too quickly for Nomin. That was how it felt to her at any rate when she woke up to the excited chatter and commotion of both Sagahl and Oroq. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and removing herself from the cover of her blankets, Nomin squinted about the ger, catching sight of Bayarmaa organizing a good portion of belongings into a crate, meanwhile, Esenaij was nowhere to be seen in the abode.

No matter… What really made Nomin pause to consider the day was the fact that on this morning, she would have undergone her naming ceremony with the other previously unnamed Tumet children. Part of her wondered amongst those fleeting thoughts of what she would have been named had she gone back. Yet she had her name, she chose it, and she was more than fine with that.

She was…no…she is Nomin.

Still, as Nomin sleepily removed herself from her bed and stretched, she thought back to previous Naadams that she could remember. She remembered going to higher ground to witness the Tumeti warriors partake in combat with the other warriors of the Steppe. When she thought of the Sagahl, on the other hand…

“... Are the warriors preparing for today?” Nomin asked, yawning at the tail end of her question.

Bayarmaa gave a slight start, looking up at Nomin from where she was cleaning up part of the ger. Placing a hand over her chest as a means to collect herself, Bayarmaa offered a small, embarrassed smile in response. “I didn't realize you were awake, Nomin. As for our…warriors, no. We don't partake in the Naadam on the last day of the Tsagaan Sar. It doesn't benefit the Sagahl to fight for leadership over the Steppe.”

“Mm…” Nomin hummed, processing Bayarmaa’s words as she stretched her arms over her head and then trodden over to where her clothes were normally kept. Nomin’s gaze fell to her old gutal for a moment before she opened a dresser drawer and rummaged around. She lifted some neatly folded garments till she found the copper shard that had been used in her trial.

Picking it up, Nomin turned it over in her hands, candlelight glinting off of it as it caught onto the metal. She then looked over at Bayarmaa, who kept her own gaze mostly pointed in Nomin’s direction.

“What do you have there?” Bayarmaa asked, leaning to the side slightly as if that would give her a better look at the copper shard.

Holding the shard up, Nomin showed it off to Bayarmaa.

“I was wondering if you could do something with this?” Nomin inquired, closing the drawer halfway and then walking in Bayarmaa’s direction. Her movements were a little lagged, indicative of the tiredness still present within. “Since…well, since you made the baras. I bet you could make it into a necklace or something!”

Bayarmaa held out her hand, and Nomin placed the shard on her palm. A soft sigh fell from Bayarmaa’s nose as she looked the shard over a couple times. Its shine was dull -- as if a discarded piece used for throwaway clothing. However, the edges were sharp, an interesting detail when metal fittings and decorations upon their clothes were often filed or dulled so they caused no harm. “I can see what I can do. This is that piece of copper from the story you told Esenaij, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Nomin had already been walking back toward the dresser so that she could get herself dressed more appropriately.

Bayarmaa hummed softly in thought and then reached down to a pouch on her belt. Tucking the copper shard away safely, she continued getting the area cleaned up and packed away. Occasionally, she stole curious glances in Nomin’s direction, watching her and studying her.

“Are you…disappointed? That the Sagahl have no warriors who fight in the Naadam, I mean…” Bayarmaa asked, turning her gaze back to the chores she took on. She was in the process of closing the crate as Nomin pulled on some thick robes to combat the chill of the Steppe.

“... Not really…” Nomin replied after a moment's thought. She tightened her belt and got her dagger secured to herself. “I know I haven't been here long, but I guess it makes sense. I like that about the Sagahl. I like that you don't really want to fight in the Naadam. I don't think I'd want to fight in it, either. Even when I'm an adult like you or Esenaij.”

A small smile grew on Bayarmaa’s lips as she went about the ger. Pulling down a tapestry that hung on the eastern wall, she folded it. “That is well. We like not conflict with other tribes if we can avoid it… But…it does stand to reason that life on the Steppe necessitates such measures. After we get to our next location, I'd like to teach you what I know if Esenaij can't show you how to shoot a bow.”

Nomin paused. She was already sitting at the edge of her bed, getting socks on her feet. A look of contemplation grew on her face as she slowly pulled the thin fabric over her feet. With a few more moments of thought, she finally gave her response: “okay. Esenaij won’t be able to just travel to Reunion every day, will he? He can definitely teach me how to use a bow!”

Bringing a hand to her mouth, Bayarmaa chuckled softly. “Indeed. I’ll make sure that he actually sees to it.”

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The gathering of other tribes to watch the Naadam was astounding. As it ever was. It was also awe inspiring to see many different standards to indicate the tribes stood up on long, wooden poles proudly billowing in the breeze over many different groups of people. This was the first year that Nomin really took more involved notice of these standards, noting the different colors, symbols, and even different standard shapes that some of the tribes adopted as their own to represent their people.

By virtue of the Naadam itself, Nomin and many of the more passive tribes that attended the Naadam as an audience had little to worry about. Those that were more wanting of the thrill of battle found themselves already upon their hard-earned yol companions from the trials of Bardam's Mettle. Restless warriors rode their yol all across the presumed site of the Naadam, as everyone was still waiting for the Gharl soilbearers to make their appearance and spread the earth. To mark the start of the Naadam.

The Gharl Iloh was visible from where Nomin stood, their many ger erected and devoid of color -- pure white, waiting to have been stained by the new year's travel over the land. Nomin recalled how the Tumet sometimes traveled early enough to watch the Gharl arrive and set their ger up. She had overheard at the time that their ger only looked clean and spotless, but it was because they set fire to their old clothes and ger canvas to meet the new year in wholly new garments that will show their stories as the year progresses.

Looking around as the Sagahl traveled alongside the Oroq to a high enough outcrop, she looked for colors and tribal standards that she could pick out. The Oronir had been easy enough, with their bright colors that represented the bright sun of Azim. She saw the Dotharl as well -- ever the warriors that would charge into battle. In addition, there were the Adarkim, Qestir, Dataq, Goro, Olkund, Buduga, and many more of which she could not yet identify.

“Do you need some water, Nomin?” Bayarmaa’s voice broke Nomin’s concentration. Looking up at her, Nomin nodded and accepted the waterskin. She went back to looking out at all the standards, only occasionally looking up at the warriors that excitedly flew overhead on their yol.

“Whoa! The Arulaq are here, too!” Yul exclaimed, jabbing a finger out toward the standard that flew alongside the Khatayin's. When the Sagahl and Oroq traveled to their location together, he followed along after Chotan, who had not been that far away from Nomin, Esenaij, and Bayarmaa herself. He had since worn the wreath of flowers Chotan made for him around his neck.

“Arulaq?” Nomin walked over closer to Chotan and Yul, tilting her head in confusion. She had never heard of the tribe before. When she looked at their standard, she kept the symbol upon it in mind.

“Y-yea!” Yul started in response, glancing over at Nomin. He grinned, an opportunity to show off knowledge he had pleasing him. “We Oroq met them once when we were traveling down close to the base of the Tail Mountains one year! When they come down from the mountains, they're always with the Khatayin! They don't speak a lot of the same Steppe dialect we do, so the Khatayin often translate for us and them so they can trade and attend any tribal meetings!”

“They don't speak the same dialect as us? Why not?” Chotan lifted her hand to her chin, cupping it in thought.

“Dunno, truth be told…” Yul's expression fell to contemplation. “I think when I overheard some conversations with the Khatayin and Oroq elders, it was because the Arulaq had been sequestered away in a hidden valley! Apparently they never really needed anything from the rest of the Steppe and just stayed there until the Khatayin stumbled across them one winter! So they've been seen with one another more oft than not. For the best, probably. The Arulaq don't really have warriors than they do hunters since they've lived away from all the Steppe conflict for so long.”

“Yul has the right of most of it,” a gentle voice spoke. Nomin recognized it, and the three children looked in the direction of the voice. Yul’s mother was approaching them, a soft smile upon her lips as she looked out toward the Arulaq standard. “We’ve traded with them at some point with some minor difficulty. They have valuable ore and herbs found in their little valley that can be found nowhere else.”

Nomin’s eyes shimmered at the idea of a valley that had things she had never seen before. Biting her tongue momentarily, she pointed a determined gaze up in Esenaij’s direction. He looked back, and his brow quirked with immediate suspicion and annoyance. He was not necessarily listening in on the conversation, though Nomin’s expression only filled him with some level of dread.

“No.” Esenaij folded his arms over his chest, staring down Nomin, his gaze unwavering.

“I didn't ask you anything yet!” Nomin’s mouth fell open as she now started gawking at Esenaij in disbelief.

“You’re thinking of asking something, and the answer is no.”

“What was it that you were going to ask, Nomin?” Bayarmaa asked, peeking around Esenaij with a pleasant look on her face that spoke more to mischief than genuine curiosity. In response, Esenaij’s expression fell and an irritated sigh was soon expelled. His hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose in slight frustration.

“Since Esenaij travels out from the site of Sagahl often, I wanted to see if we could go to where the Arulaq live! I want to see the valley where all that rare stuff comes from!” Nomin eagerly said in response to Bayarmaa, her hands balling into excited fists that came up to emphasize her desire. The shimmer in Nomin’s eyes returned as her little tail flicked skyward with Bayarmaa entertaining her clearly curious nature.

“Did you really have to ask her about what was on her mind?” Esenaij grumbled, pointing his annoyed look of slight exasperation down at Bayarmaa.

“Whatever are you talking about, my one and only dearest brother?” Bayarmaa asked sweetly, happily hopping away with a slight twirl to her step as she stuck her tongue out at Esenaij before looking back out at the expanse of land. Raising a hand, she shielded her eyes from the sunlight and looked around. A low ‘ooh’ left her lips as she waved her hand to beckon Nomin and the other children over.

Sweeping her free hand forward, Bayarmaa eagerly pointed a finger in the direction of the four distant Xaela, robed in pure white, and riding atop horses just as pristine. They were majestic, in a sense, as their horses strode calmly and elegantly across the grasslands. The one that led the van held a clay urn that had no lid to it. When more of the audience and warriors caught sight of them, cheers erupted, starting low before rising into a raucous series of whoops, whistles, and elated cheering.

“The Gharl soil bearers come!” Yul exclaimed once he saw them, his eyes lit up as he gazed upon the Gharl. His tail wiggled to and fro with his delight as he stuck close to both Nomin and Chotan

One of the Gharl soil bearers dismounted, followed by the three others soon thereafter. Nomin watched as they walked out onto the land, the leader holding her urn with practiced care. Tilting the pot, the soil bearer spread the soil of their last location onto the land. Once the last of the dirt was poured upon the land, battle cries from the warriors erupted as they charged for their prize -- the ovoo.

“My next harvest is on the Oronir again. With Sadu of Dotharl still a child in their current incarnation, the Dotharli warriors have hardly the support needed to claim the ovoo from the Oronir. Especially with the Buduga having recently allied themselves with them,” Esenaij said, folding his arms over his chest. “The Dotharli people may be known as the ‘undying ones’ with their reincarnation, though that will do little to avail them this Naadam.”

“Sadu? Who is that?” Nomin asked, looking up at Esenaij.

Bringing a hand to his chin, Esenaij squinted before looking around where the Dotharl standard was raised. He pointed toward them and said, “the young girl with the white hair.”

When Nomin finally saw who Esenaij was talking about, there was a moment's consideration. This Sadu looked to have been the same age as Nomin herself.

“That is the future khatun of the Dotharl. Some would even argue that she was khatun the moment she had been born and determined the fallen soul of their previous khagan,” Esenaij explained. “But look how she carries herself. Tall, proud…and already in possession of the staff of the previous khagan. The Steppe is lucky she is too young to fight.”

“... Is she powerful?” Nomin questioned.

“We are yet to know fully. If she is indeed the true reincarnation of their previous khagan, then she will be a mighty force to contend with in several years’ time…. It is only fortunate that we Sagahl have no desire to reign over the Steppe. We know our strengths in knowing the land and its creatures. Fighting the Oronir, Dotharl, and the Three Giants would do little for us…” Esenaij said, frowning. “Though I cannot deny the Dotharli girl already emits such a powerful aura. Even at this distance…”

In that moment, the events of the Naadam became just background noise, slowly muffling as Nomin’s attention kept itself on Sadu of Dotharl. She was not quite sure why she was drawn to the other girl, but something about Sadu drew Nomin’s attention far more than any combat or competitive show on the grasslands below for the ovoo.

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When the clamor and dust settled, there was one who had captured the ovoo and was now dubbed ‘khagan’ for the year. A Dotharl man stood the victor for he and his tribe. There were cheers and whoops to celebrate the victory, though there were also groans and murmurs of concern from those that thought the Dotharl too battle hungry and bloodlust driven.

However, Bayarmaa was beside herself with laughter.

“So your next harvest shall be going to the Dotharl instead?” Bayarmaa asked, her hands on her hips and a wide smile upon her lips. “And you were so positive that the Oronir were guaranteed to win this Naadam!”

A frown was set heavily upon Esenaij’s face as he made no attempt to retort or respond to Bayarmaa. Nomin, however, only giggled alongside Bayarmaa at the turn of events. Though another thought entered her head when she realized what that also meant. With a small gasp, Nomin’s tail flicked up and she looked up at Esenaij.

“Esenaij! Can I go with you to visit the Dotharl Iloh?” Nomin asked, her eyes sparkling with the thought of being able to travel the Steppe and see other tribes and peoples. Not only that, but learn more of what other edible or beneficial plants there were that the Steppe offered. Granted, as not a true daughter of the Sagahl, she was missing meat, but perhaps she could hunt if Esenaij allowed it.

“So that I might suffer more of your questions and inquiries? No,” Esenaij replied, folding his arms over his chest.

“Bring Nomin with you, Esenaij…” Bayarmaa said, chuckling softly still. She then echoed Nomin’s thoughts: “it will be good for her to travel the Steppe! She needs to learn more about what we can find, how we prepare it while traveling, and if you’re headed out toward the Dotharl Khaa, you might as well also show her what grows on the fringes of Nhaama’s Retreat. Teach her as you taught me of the Steppe.”

A small growl of indignation came from Esenaij, though Nomin had been happy that Bayarmaa was at least on her side when it came to doing more fun stuff. Plus, Nomin was unable to learn much about what was in season at this time and would have to wait till spring had arrived properly. Skipping up to Esenaij, Nomin raised her hands to him with a grin.

“I’m not picking you up,” Esenaij sighed. He had declined such silent requests since Bayarmaa told Nomin how he carried her from his wain to their ger. A pain, now that he had to deal with Nomin’s random ‘requests’ for being carried. Though he was met with a pout from Nomin, Esenaij started making his way back with the other Sagahl and Oroq to their site.

Bayarmaa, on the other hand, was finally coming down from her amusement. She shook her head at Nomin and gave her a mischievous look. “Don’t you worry about Esenaij and him leaving you behind. I’ll see to it that you’re ready to travel with him in the coming days.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #xaela headcanons #xaela arulaq #ffxiv au ra #au ra xaela #xaela #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #oc: bayarmaa sagahl #oc: yul oroq #oc: chotan sagahl #oc: esenaij sagahl #sadu dotharl #NTK:Chronicles

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surlyalpaca · 4 years

Text

7. Nonagenarian

It was not the first time her Grandfather had caught her neglecting her duties. Nor the second. Or even the third. Reshene’s childhood memories of the old man were nothing more than a string of annoyed quips beyond counting. Her litany of failures in his eyes was as endless as the wind that continually blew through the ravine their tribe called home. This time, however, he said something that actually stuck with her:

“Useless brat. When your my age will you actually be able to say your life amounted to anything?”

The answer when she is 12 :

She is so sad and proud as she sings the dirge. While the rest of the tribe had long departed Reshene remains to witness as the carrion birds begin their ancient role in the Arulaq funeral rites. No one understood her aunt but her, and no one understood her like her aunt did, and Reshene thinks of all the things she should’ve said when she had time. By dawn there will be nothing left but bloodstained rocks above and the burning desire in the young woman below to make her aunt proud.

The answer when she is 23:

She feels less than worthless. Pointless. The Arulaq are small in numbers and what good is a woman who can bear no children with her body? The whole tribe whispers as her husband and his new wife produced a set of twins at the end of the long winter months. Reshene feels her Grandfather’s old stinging words even clearer, feels her life will never amount to anything. Her sister takes her in during that time and constantly whispers to her: Don’t listen to them, you are loved, you are worth something, and one day you’ll know it too.

The answer when she is 29:

Freedom. A tether broken. Portents of Calamity in the far west are witnessed and the Arulaq send their most disposable hunter off to investigate. They claim its a role of honour but everyone knows the truth. Reshene cares not. For the first time it feels like she can make her own decisions about where her life will take her.

The answer when she is 34:

She kills her first god. There will be more. The disposable hunter has become the Weapon of Light. Now everyone is proclaiming her worth and after a lifetime of vacillating between being anonymous and a disappointment she isn’t sure what to make of this new state.

The answer when she is 35:

After nothing but a string of dalliances her heart is snared and she learns what it means to lose yourself in another who loves you equally in return. It makes everything that happened up to that point seem worthwhile because it brought her to him.

The answer when she is 36:

She long placed value on her deeds, but the words of her beloved and her friends speak of different possibilities. Of being valued for herself and not merely for what she is capable of. The realization causes her to laugh. She dreams of being able to speak to her spiteful old Grandfather, to tell him that through those she has gathered closest to her heart that her life has immense meaning. Meaning beyond what deeds alone can count for. She takes this knowledge and begins to break apart an Empire with it.

The answer when she learns her soul is ancient beyond all counting, older even than the dreams of Hydaelyn, confronted by he who was once her friend and now dares accuse her of crimes beyond reckoning when the genocide of eight worlds can be traced back to his doing:

Yes she is proud of who she is and fuck you. Fuck you to hell. Everything she has done she’s done out of compassion for those around her. No butchering children and claiming its for the greater good, as he had the gall to do so. Every action she has taken is to try and help those less fortunate than herself. Failures tally up as much as successes but in the end she can at least say she’s done it to better the lives of the living and not be enslaved to a dead world whose shades are beyond caring.

The answer when she is 6, when Grandfather first asks, and all those battles are in her distant future:

She blinks, not fully aware of what the question means but understands the tone in which he said it and meekly slinks away from the old man’s anger to mind the dzo like her mother asked her to do. She is, after all, a helpful child.

#FFxivWrite2020 #ffxivwrite #reshene #no time to edit must post #still unpacking 5.3

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corpse-dancer · 4 years

Note

Do they have any mental illnesses? If so, what are they and how do they make everyday life harder?

Az has some pretty bad PTSD from her time with the Arulaq, solely due to the mental and emotional abuse she was subjected to from her father. It took her an unfortunate amount of time to realize he would never accept her and that she’d always be some sort of cursed spawn that brought misfortune to the tribe. Even when she did finally snap under the pressure and leave, it was after enduring this treatment for two decades, leaving scars that would never really heal.

It doesn’t impact her life as much as one would think, but that’s also because she isn’t constantly being introduced to anything that could trigger a reaction. More often than not it happens in her dreams, a view of the Valley covered in flame, a dark, hulking figure with sunken golden eyes in a tangled mess of abyssal blue hair. The scent of fermented milk, the reassurance that she’d always be a burden, the agonizing pain in her palms from burns that never really healed. She’ll wake up in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably, terrified, struggling to not throw up from the overwhelming fear and anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach.

Thanks for the ask 😘 @thorstyrh

#ask answers

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pumpkinmagekupo · 3 years

Text

AuRaAugust Day13: Friendship

At first Mizuki was unsure how to react to Sadu Dotharl, the Khatun of the Dotharl. Everything about her was different. Mizuki had ran from the fate foisted upon her at birth, but Sadu accepted her fate with great pride. The Dotharl believed they were reincarnations of their ancestors, a belief Gosetsu could not understand at all.

“Speak!” Sadu snapped at her when she noticed Mizuki’s curious stare. Mizuki tensed as Sadu marched toward her, glowering. Sadu did not suffer fools gladly.

“Forgive me, I just..I was just thinking how astounding it is that you accepted your fate so...readily and with such conviction...have you never thought that perhaps you were meant to be someone else?” she asked, carefully choosing her words.

Sadu wasted no time in replying. “Never. It is an honour to carry on the soul of our fallen warriors.”

Mizuki studied Sadu in awe. She's so straightforward. “I truly admire your spirit, it’s like an arrow, straight and true,” she smiled. Sadu looked taken back by her words. “Would that I had such conviction back then, mayhap I would never have left,” she continued, trying to laugh at her own uncertainty.

“What tribe do you hail from? We must be of similar age and yet I have not heard of such a warrior,” Sadu asked.

Mizuki tensed and hid under her hat. Shouldn’t have opened my mouth. What a coward she’ll think me. “I no longer belong to a tribe..” she replied slowly, peering out from her hat to gauge Sadu’s expression. “Even should I wish to return they would not receive me well.”

Sadu looked bewildered, patting her shoulder roughly with a loud laugh. “Any tribe would welcome the Khagan with open arms!” she bolstered, “and yet you still have not answered from what tribe did you hail?”

“Arulaq,” Mizuki responded reluctantly.

“Ah..that tribe..” Sadu hummed, folding her arms in thought. “I recall they triumphed in the Naadam some years past. Rumours of that day still linger but few remember it vividly enough to speak of it in detail.”

Mizuki nodded “I know it well-” Sadu’s eyes lit up and she seized her hand, an expectant gleam in her eyes “-- I was..there. ‘Twas my first Naadam and my...and my first victory on the Steppe.”

Sadu’s grip tightened but not in violence.

“We must battle at once!” she announced, her voice holding such mirth and excitement. “To do battle with a warrior crowned Khagan twice?! I must! My soul requires it!”

Mizuki blinked and laughed quietly. We are more alike than I thought.

Once they were suitably far from the tribe they began their match. Spell after spell, they negated one another’s attack with great finesse and skill. “You hold back on me!” Sadu shouted over the sounds of another fiery blast. “I wish to witness the spell you used that day!”

Mizuki blocked the attack and stepped back.

“I haven’t cast that spell since then. Long have I forgotten how.” She moved to thwart the onoming blast into a different location. “But -- let me show you what I have learnt.” She held her staff before her and a large purple sigil twirled out from under her feet; tapping the ground with the base of the winged staff further illuminated the sigil before she twirled her staff with one hand holding it up to the sky to conjure forth darkened clouds. Fire bubbled from within the clouds and several large fireballs burst forth from them.

Sadu conjured forth her two stone totems and met the blast head on as she did all her battles. The collision created a massive shockwave that rumbled through the valley, kicking up vast amounts of smoke and dust. Mizuki braced herself against it until the smoke began to settle “Did I over do it?” She looked around but couldn’t see Sadu amidst the smoke and dust. “Sadu?!” she called in panic, running over to where the Khatun had been standing “Sadu?!”

As she got closer, she saw the shattered remains of the totems. “Oh no -- I think I killed the leader of a tribe..” Mizuki felt physically sick. “Sadu!!” She started to shift the large stone slabs, praying to the high heavens she lived.

The stone rumbled and one was blasted clean past her head, making Mizuki jolt in alarm. Sadu coughed and sat up from the dust. “Sadu!” Mizuki was close to tears, thankful to see her alive. “By the twelve, I thought I had killed you!”

Sadu looked up at her, her face and hair covered in soot and dust and laughed loudly.

“It would take far greater to kill me! Though had it been anyone else you might have ended them,” she said, her laugh still clinging to her words. “Well fought, Khagan. The victory is yours. And what a battle! My soul burns bright!”

Mizuki’s shoulders slumped in relief but they shuddered with her own laughter. She held out a hand for Sadu to take. “It was my honour to fight you,” she grinned back, “it was- it was fun.” Mizuki nodded. Sadu joyfully grabbed Mizuki’s hand accepting her help off the ground. Sadu didn’t release her hand straight away, using her other hand to slide one of the blue feather wrist cuffs from her own wrist over to Mizuki’s. “Sadu-” Mizuki looked up into Sadu’s eyes confused,

“A sign that you are always welcome within the Dotharl and as nothing less than a friend.” Mizuki bit her lip to stop herself smiling stupidly, it was rare to be accepted within the Dotharl but as a friend, there was no higher honour.

Mizuki repaid the gesture with her own wrist cuff.

“I would be proud to know you as my dear friend.” Mizuki tilted her head as she smiled. “I never thought I would find such a friend on the Azim Steppe.” Mizuki took notice of the burns that now decorated Sadu’s dark grey skin. “I have some ointments with me that will help with the burns..”

Sadu patted Mizuki’s shoulder roughly. “Come, Khagan, we must celebrate over our glorious battle.”

“And let me tend to your wounds.” Mizuki repeated, giving chase to Sadu who was already marching proudly back towards her tribe.

#pumpkin writes #auraugust #auraugust prompt 2021 #oc: mizuki #Au Ra #xaela #sadu dotharl #friendship

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veloxaraptor · 5 years

Text

Never Ending Survey- Gan Raizure

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Gan Raizure of the Haragin Tribe

NICKNAME: Sharkie, Grumpy Guppy

AGE: 35

BIRTHDAY: 19th sun of the 4th Astral Moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Yokai

NATIONALITY: Xaela/Othardian

LANGUAGE/S: Common, Xaela, Pirate, Hingan, Ancient Yangxian, very basic Doman

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married, Polyamorous Relationship

HOME TOWN / AREA: The Azim Steppes and Limsa Lominsa

CURRENT HOME: The Goblet, Ul’dah

PROFESSION: Mercenary, Novelist, Relic Hunter

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Long, straight, violet with teal highlights.

EYES: Green and Orange

FACE: Angular, Square/Rectangular in shape

LIPS: Between thin and full

COMPLEXION: Tanned

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: SO MANY. Major ones are gunshot on back left shoulder, one on her right shoulder, a bite mark on the right side of her chest, three claw marks under her left eye, a spear stab on her left side under the ribs, claw marks on the right side of her belly from navel to hip.

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT: 4′ 9″

WEIGHT: 115 ponze

BUILD: Muscular, solid

FEATURES: Black sclera, black markings around her eyes

ALLERGIES: None that she is aware of

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Half up and braided

USUAL FACE LOOK : Scowling or “Wtf”

USUAL CLOTHING: Chest wraps, shorts, no shoes

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Losing her loved ones, being alone, mirrors, tentacles

ASPIRATION/S: To protect her loved ones, to grow a wonderful family, to someday break the cage she’s put on herself mentally

POSITIVE TRAITS: Quick acting, loyal, honest, loving, passionate

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reckless, restless, impulsive, stubborn, quick to anger.

TEMPERAMENT: somewhat aggressive

SOUL TYPE/S: Warrior

ANIMALS: Shark, wolf

VICE HABIT/S: Alcohol, smoking, fighting

FAITH: None, though references Halone more often than not

GHOSTS?: Yes

AFTERLIFE?: Unsure

REINCARNATION?: Yes

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Stays out of it

EDUCATION LEVEL: None. All self taught.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Bataar of the Haragin (Deceased)

MOTHER : Ehri of the Haragin (deceased)

SIBLINGS : Torugana Arulaq (Half sister) and possibly many more

EXTENDED FAMILY: Unknown, late husband’s siblings (there’s like 5 of them)

NAME MEANING/S: “The Bold One”

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Mysteries and romances

DEITY: None

HOLIDAY: All Saint’s Wake. (Though she finds most holidays a bit bizarre)

MONTH: October/November

SEASON: Autumn

PLACE: any beach

WEATHER: Overcast. Bonus if it’s raining.

SOUND / S: The ocean, rain, thunderstorms

SCENT / S: Sea air, lavender

TASTE / S: buuz, chocolate, alcohol

FEEL / S: Snuggling the husband or boyfriend, sand underfoot, water on skin

ANIMAL / S: sharks, cats

NUMBER: 6

COLORS: Black, Purple, Blue

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Cooking, writing, swimming, fighting

BAD AT: Drawing, singing, dancing, expressing herself

TURN ONS: Loyalty, straightforwardness, protectiveness, violence

TURN OFFS: Naivete, intentional stupidity, inability to take responsibility for things

HOBBIES: Cooking, smoking, writing, swimming, fighting

TROPES: Femme Fatale, scrappy scrapper, tough outside soft inside, breaking the chains, being bad doesnt mean you cant be nice

QUOTES :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1 : An action flick. Probably set in feudal Japan. I got nothing else.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2 : Lots of orchestral pieces, even mix of epic feeling and some gentle, more feelsy pieces.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?

A3 : I wanted to work with a character that’s hard to get along with, but really is just well meaning despite her actions and methods. From there she just kind of evolved into her own thing.

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?

A4 : She’s different from what I usually play. Generally I play stoic, assassiny types that focus on logic instead of emotion.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Somehow everyone wants a piece of her? Well not everyone, but a lot of people want their characters to be with her in some capacity and it’s overwhelming at times.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?

A6 : I am incredibly protective and defensive of my friends and loved ones.

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?

A7 : What a bitch.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

A8 : Gosh it’s hard to really say. Things have led me to not being in touch with too many people anymore. But Aanzo who she likes to call her Papa Popoto, Idristan who she regards as a friend but likes to heckle, her husband Noise, of course.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

A9 : Just kinda... anything really.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?

A10 : Longer than I care to admit because I kept getting distracted. >.>

Tagged by @roses-and-grimoires

Tagging.... you!!!

#Gan Raizure #holy hells #but thanks for the tag!

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