Glassred
i'm the giant rat that makes all of the rules
A Lonely Freedom
Beyond the Karalian Mountains, there lives a tribe of people envied by all those who slave away in toil. Their spirit is that of unbound freedom, subject only to the elements which lash out at them by the will of the gods. In the world's written history, no conqueror has ever besieged their lands successfully, or even attempted to do so after weighing their chances against reward. The nomads of these vast steppes exist outside of the connected realms, known only as folktales and accounts by far-traveled traders. Suffice to say, they are the undisputed masters of nature, privy to all its signs and secrets. The winds and the waters whisper to them, telling of things to come. Almost always on their feet, the horse and yak are their best friends on harsh journeys north, east, west and south. In order to keep their freedom, they constantly hunt after both the prey and the conditions gentle to human life. Surrounded by nothing but the wilderness, they are the solemn Divoshii.
Plight and Misfortune
Of course, nothing is easy for the Divoshii. Nature is fierce, and the ways of the old fail to hold up against the steadily progressing medicine and tools of the outside world. To worsen this fact, a terrible curse has been following the tribe for the past thirty years. Nowadays, the mobile camps scantily ever move due to natural occurrences. Instead, a single body is usually discovered, maimed and bloated inside the comfort of their own home--forever locked in the writhes of agony they spent their last moments wallowing in. Only the elders remember why and when such a tragedy began unfolding, but they are not intent on sharing with anyone. The official explanation goes as follows; during Veles' festival three decades ago, a nameless youth stood and defamed the god's name in a speech laden with profanity. Since then, the tribe's population has dwindled from several hundreds to a mere few dozens.
Your Toil
To any outside observer, it would seem like the last days of the Divoshii are slowly approaching. Life may continue as normal, but everyone works on edge and desperate. Is there no clue for their ailment? In the upcoming month, a fated group of the tribe's youth will either uncover the hidden truth behind the Kletba and free their people, or doom them to an inevitable future of suffering. Chosen as the actors in the precise ritual which started it all, they have until the end of February to reconcile with the god, raging spirits or whatever else may be causing this merciless havoc. For now, that role is completely unknown however.
Kletba, Tale of Steppes and Desolation
Yo. Hope you enjoyed the brief introduction up there, and welcome to the interest check for my attempt at a group roleplay. In short, this roleplay will explore the life of a nomadic steppe people based on both slavonic, turkic and also entirely unique inspirations. Should you join, you will take upon the role of a tribe youth (16-29*) chosen for the sacred duty of preparing Veles' festival. Your job will be to hunt, gather, ride and survive your way to a successful festival, marred by antagonistic elders and evil curses. Specific duties will be given out after character creation and proper discussion. After 28 in-game days (timekeeping won't be intrusive), you will hold your celebration either to a renewed people, or a host of rotting corpses. Will you uncover the truth of thirty years ago before time runs out? Only the days could tell.
I expect to accept around five people, making the upper limit seven. To join, all you need is a good grasp on english, genuine interest in the concept/setting/aesthetic and the capability to keep the plot flowing with your posts. Expect a feeling of desolation, harsh environment and a dark, low-fantasy aspect bundled with soft(?) gore. If I'm to compare the aesthetic to anything, it would be either Pathologic or Morrowind, both of which are very specific but also similar. If there are any additional questions, I'll answer them accordingly in the thread below.
Looking forward to having you, comrade.
