Post by Richter on Jun 7, 2014 4:20:02 GMT -6
History:
Clan Torrzal has a founding significantly more convoluted and dark than perhaps any of its counterparts on the mainland of Zalboria. They did not begin as a clan at all, in fact, but a penal colony. Not long after Clan Kasorymor joined the kingdom, their explorers brought word of great riches and wealth in the blasted wastelands to the southwest, across the sea. Mountains of gold and precious resources, there for those able and willing to take them. But that was where the issue lied, none were willing, for few were able. The land was harsh, the flora and fauna hostile, and bands of raiders stalked the deserts attacking any that they came across. Few of the initial expeditions launched by the crown returned at all, and those that did, came back with their numbers dwindled; worn down by climate and adversary. It would seem that the wealth of the Southland would go untouched. But an opportunity presented itself.
Alan Zalbor was the second youngest son of the House of Zalbor, the founding and ruling clan of Zalboria after whom the entire nation took its name. He cared little for politics and spent most of his time studying history, war, and the arts than in the courts like a proper child of the crown should. While his kin were plying their trade and sharpening their wit in the castles and regions of the lesser clans’ nobility, Alan was debating history and theories of the world’s origin in public libraries and universities amongst the learned men of the land. Alan had quickly become the black sheep of the family, though the title bothered him little. Misfortune would befall the man on his 20th birthday, during the lavish party his family threw for him to celebrate the occasion. During the festivities he caught his older brother Briac hitting on his wife of two years late into the night as the celebration carried on to midnight and beyond. Both had quite a bit to drink by that point, so it shocked no one when a fight broke out between the two nobles. What did shock his family and guests was Alan plunging a kitchen knife into the throat of his kinsmen, who died near instantly from the fatal wound. The younger Zalborian fled the palace immediately when he realized what he had done, taking his friends and servants with him into the countryside. What began as a heinous crime, kinslaying, grew as peasants flocked to his side and aid. Alan was a popular man because he was down to earth and did not hold himself to a high perch like many of his family did, peering down their noses at the common blooded. When the first groups of manhunters were beaten and sent running an army was put on his tail, and it seemed like an insurrection was set to break out.
Not wanting to have his friends slaughtered, Alan gave himself up and put himself at the mercy of the knights who came to arrest him. This put the High King in an unusual position, but one he could exploit. Rather than kill the man, and risk upsetting the countryside further, the king wanted to appear ‘merciful’ and declared that Alan, his wife, and his supporters were not to be harmed; they would be exiled. To nowhere other than the Southlands, where a new penal colony would be founded just for him and his malcontents. Not only would the High King be able to tap the resources of the south, it would also give him and excuse to dispose of opponents to his rule without needing bloodshed; strengthening his position while appearing progressive and benign. They were rounded up and loaded onto ships by the end of the month, along with crooks, thieves, and any other scum the crown and guard wanted rid of.
They were dropped off with just enough supplies to be called adequate on the coast of the Southlands, hundreds of miles of sea barring them from ever returning home. With no other choice, they built for themselves a small city atop some sprawling foothills in between three great lakes, the only life givers for some distance in the trackless badlands. The exiles derisively referred to their own ramshackle town as ‘Rogueport’, and the name stuck ever since. When the first foundation was laid down the congregation of castaways was called together by Alan, where he announced that his name from that day forward would be Alan Torrzal, dropping the name of his family and taking another. Distant, but similar enough that none would forget his roots. As an exile king amongst exiles, he set to work establishing a safe haven for those with him.
It was not easy going. The nearest lake to the city was salty, it could not be drank, and it often flooded in spring from rain or when snow in the Barrier Mountains to the west and south melted; both feeding the river that winded down from the peaks and into the lagoon. The lush woods to the town’s southern edge that looked so inviting from the ships were instead part of a soupy salt marsh that began at the coast and wrapped around the banks of the southern two lakes. Even where the marshy ground gave way to more normal trees, the fauna all bore nasty spines and housed poisonous flora. Nomadic bands began to raid the community their second month, forcing the settlers to fight tooth and nail to survive, while the land made them import water from further north to supply the needs of themselves and crops. The weather was as merciless as the rest of their territory; scorching hot in summer, freezing at night, and rainy in spring. Only winter offered much respite.
Many supplies had to be imported at inflated cost by the crown itself, who nickel and dimed the exiles, making them work hard to provide exotic goods to feed the clan’s coffers least they be cut off. With no other alternatives, the Torrzals and their ‘clansmen’ were forced to comply. As the riches grew the royal clan sent more men, bandits, criminals, political opponents, and anyone else they didn’t care for and could trump up charges on found themselves on a boat to Rogueport. Several other Zalborian clans joined into the practice, and Raoecia did so as well. New blood flowed in to replace old as it was spilled to feed the unyielding thirst of the wasteland.
Somehow the community survived, though it most certainly did not prosper by any means of the word. The place was nothing short of miserable, whether you were in town or in the wilderness. Few people who went there returned, save for the merchants from clans Zalbor and Kasorymor. Further influxes of new population came from the destruction and assimilation of other nations to the south and east, the mysterious Neos Nation and El Merssera being two examples. When their nations were ruined or absorbed refugees from homes now gone were set to flight, with some settling in the city – as it is the final point of civilization in the west.
Part of the city’s success is due in part to the natives with whom they have dealings. The first of these groups are the Targs. When Alan Torrzal first landed at the Southlands the Targs were a nomadic band that wandered along the coast with herds of camels and other domesticated beasts. They had been at war for generations with another tribal group known as the Moruds. Both made war on the settlers, but towards the end of Alan Torrzal’s life he managed to broker a deal with the Targ tribes in the area, whom had been losing again and again to the Moruds. The two joined forces and drove the latter over the mountains. Of the five Targ tribes remaining, two joined with the foreigners and settled in region beside them. The rest remained nomadic, though on friendly terms.
While some of the lost Merserrans settled in the area, many remained nomadic, and the Torrzals made alliances with them as well. They, too, now help to fight the Moruds who are a constant threat to any on the coastal side of the mountains.
The Torrzals becoming a clan is a fairly recent happening, as far as national history goes. During the Zalborian Civil War clan Zalbor was doing very, very badly. With Clan Lamont making huge gains the nobility started to get antsy, knowing that if the penal colony wanted to break their chains they could not stop them. Acting first, the High King offered them a place in the nation once again if they would supply men and materials for their war effort. A tongue in cheek gesture at best, they would not receive the title of ‘duke’ or ‘margrave’ or any such esteemed position, but ‘viceroy’. Despite the bitter taste of that indignity, the offer was too good to refuse, and if nothing else – the Zalborians were still their blood. They accepted the title and marched to war, returning home for the first time in far too long.
Even so they couldn’t change the tide of the war, and Zalbor was ousted as the royal clan with Lamont taking their place. In a twist of fate that was utterly delicious, distant kin of the old ruling clan and their supporters were forced to flee to the Southlands; the only other option they had when Lamont supporters sealed the borders to Raoecia, where they would be safe with their kinsmen in the neighboring state. The new rulers were either too weak or too politically minded to rescind the newly minted title of Clan Torrzal, so it remains to this day.
Lands:
The region ‘claimed’ by Clan Torrzal is called Draanmor, and its borders extend much further than even the richest clan’s territory back home – being nobody save the uncivilized bands can contest their ownership. Despite what many think at first it isn’t entirely desert, though it is far from hospitable. Sandy soil hosts a large number of mosses, grasses, and shrubs that prevent the soil from eroding too terribly, and with some work this land can be coaxed to yield crops. Two of the three lakes beside the city bring in fresh water, and both rivers that feed all three are likewise mercifully low in salt. Cunning, if primitive irrigation, goes a long way in providing for the population. The hardy and fast growing vegetation also makes it well suited to keeping domesticated animals, which the settlers adopted in their first years from the locals to make ends meet. Generally, the further south one goes, the more arid the land gets. The lands further west remain semi-arable, but going too far from the city isn’t something any but the most adventurous try to do. Trees aren’t rare in this belt of land, but they rarely form cohesive forests far from the two main rivers. Though the clan claims the Barrier Mountains there are constant skirmishes in the slopes and peaks with the Moruds, who reside on the other side of the sprawling range.
Geography of Note:
The Bramblewood – The largest forest anywhere west of El Merserra is known as the Bramblewood. An unusual area, it blends salt marsh with forest. The wide lagoon south of Rogueport is high in saline from deposits left during high tide, making it much too high in salt to support most types of plantlife. Resilient mangrove-style trees managed to adapt to the adverse conditions and wrap around the entirety of Lake Isolde and half of Lake Myrna to the west; where it merges and gives way to more traditional woodland sporting tall trees with few branches save those at the top that fan out to collect sun and water. Woody vines crawl up from the trunks and roots of both types and twine between both ‘biomes’, with grasses, flowers, and mosses living on the drier ground and tall reed-plants acting as their counterparts in the soupier saltmarsh. Fungi are equally common in both sections to break down dead matter and return nutrients to the blasted terrain. Certainly an interesting terrain feature, it extends for quite some distance following the Blood River back towards the mountains and the coastline southward.
What many people do not realize at first is that quite a few of those plants are carnivorous, or at least evolved to maximize chances of survival in the harsh landscape. Most species of flowering plant have sticky, acidic prongs that grab and digest insects that would feed on their leaves – yet their powdery pollen breaks down and neutralizes this acid, so pollinators are free to propagate the species unmolested. The trees and vines have wicked thorns along their entire length from which the forest takes its name, and they’re very easy to prick a finger on or worse. It isn’t uncommon to see strips of skin from animals on these barbs from predator and prey both as they weave between the trunks, feeding the plants as this leftover biological matter drops to the forest floor and decays. The leaves of the mangrove trees contain a powerful toxin that kills anything that eats them in minutes, which the plethora of bacteria and fungi in the marsh break down to feed the entire ecosystem in days. It is not a nice place. Animal life is equally diverse, but many of the flora that live here also persist in the wasteland at large. A large number of predators and insects living here are very willing to attack a person, as the carcass of a man could feed a pack of desert wolves for many days or flesh eating bugs for many weeks.
Even so many foodstuffs come from the Bramblewood. The vines produce tiny fruits that can be collected for sustenance, and the bodies of these winding plants are one of the few sources of natural rubber that the nations of the world have access to, their trunks providing raw latex when tapped. This goopy white substance is what gave the vine its name of ‘Gumvine’. They’re very resilient and widely cultivated inside the walls of Rogueport. The thorn trees grow rough skinned fruits with studded rinds that are bitter, but edible, and the thorns can be sheared off and ground into flour since they regrow seasonally. Some of the mosses and grasses can also be eaten, and dark brown mushrooms that grow in the shade of the trees are hearty and taste like red meat – but collecting these is dangerous, as most species are toxic, a fine eye is needed to find those that are safe. Reeds from the swamp can be used to make waterproof paper, and while not very tasty, the lower parts can be eaten while the tops are taken for crafts. Little wood is actually harvested from the forest, both as a measure of safety and defense, as it is their southern rampart and for that reason many official mandates prevent logging in any number. For that reason trees of other types are typically grown closer to town and harvested when that resources is required. When it does show up, wood from the forest is hard and useful in weapons and housing when seasoned, but adobe is the cheaper and preferred option for steads. Imported species of trees, whether from further south or abroad, provide nuts as another booster crop.
People from Zalboria might be inclined to not call it a forest at all, being that the trees are spaced widely enough apart that one could drive a small car between the trunks without much issue. Even so, navigating it isn’t as easy as one might think with the branches overhead forming quite the canopy, and there are few landmarks once you’re inside.
The Three Lakes – Lake Isolde, Lake Myrna, and Lake Apirka are the three standing bodies of water around the city. Directionally, Isolde is South, Myrna is Southwest, and Apirka Northwest of Rogueport. The former is more of a lagoon, due to its high salt content, but the other two are freshwater. Apirka is the one tapped most often for irrigation and drinking water, as Myrna is deep in the Bramblewood and thus not very safe to travel to. In addition to providing water they also provide defense, the waterways boxing in the settlement and making it so only one land approach is really viable. The resultant chokepoint has been where many Torrzal defenders made their stand over the long years.
The Two Rivers – The Blood River begins in the Barrier Mountains and cuts across the wasteland, bringing life to an otherwise desolate land; acting as an artery to the region's wellbeing. Legend goes that the name comes from the first batch of exiles to the Southlands, who cut their throats with brambles on its banks rather than suffer life in the badlands. In truth, the name comes from the high iron content in the water due to its mountainous origins. Despite this metal making it smell like blood, it’s potable. This river feeds the two southern lakes.
The Spear River to the north also comes down from the Barriers, but it shoots almost straight to the coastline, hence its name. Its largest tributary feeds Lake Apirka. These aren't the only rivers in the region, but they are the ones closest to the capital.
The Barrier Mountains – Even the wide mountain ranges of Paemir look like foothills next to the mighty Barriers, which extend further than any man has ever gone. Some say it forms the edge of the world, and only abyss lays on the other side. Or at the very least, it must extend all the way to the border of existence. The mountain’s slopes are rugged and treacherous, but hold vast mineral wealth. Old ruins from ages long past dot its many peaks and valleys, and these are as coveted by prospectors as the mines themselves. The problem is that the extremely hostile Morud tribes call them home, and vicious fighting takes place over territory here. Mining towns and villages are set up and torn down or destroyed near monthly, and both sides have erected, destroyed, built, and rebuilt watch posts in the passes so many times that they’re now closer to fortresses than lookouts.
In recent years the Boars and their allies have managed to push the Moruds beyond the mountains and secure some measure of safe land. What lies beyond the mountains, no one can say. Tales from mountain men tell that vast hosts of Moruds live in sprawling jungles beyond the Barriers that could spill out and sweep aside their city at any moment. Few, if any, take these seriously, but since those reports first came in the mountain guard has doubled…
Unfortunately not just Moruds prowl the mountains, many predators do as well ranging from mammals to large birds and reptiles that live in mountain lakes and streams. More fantastic tales tell of mountain trolls living in the most remote caves that come down during the new moon to devour men whole. Supposedly they’re fell allies of the Moruds, but no one has ever seen one outside of Torrzal, despite monster hunters from Kollelkost coming to see for themselves. Coniferous trees and other hardy plants grow in the more spacious mountain valleys, and over the years several of these have been cultivated elsewhere; nuts from the Draanmor Cedar are a common foodstuff produced by treefarms near Rogueport.
The crags themselves also prove dangerous, rock slides and flash floods aren’t unknown, and even avalanches can happen higher up towards the very tips of the mountains where it is cold enough for snow to fall. Getting lost in the winding passes is also very easy without a map or guide, and the few beaten trails that exist are followed near religiously when they must be trekked.
Man-made Features of Note:
Rogueport - The city of exiles, this town has held on for longer than most people can, or want, to remember. It's typically considered the last bastion of safety and civilization in the world, and that's correct on at least a few levels. Located in between three lakes and with its back to the sea, a swamp to one side, and a number of hills that make excellent places to build, it is very defensible. Perhaps that is the only reason it lasted so long, that and the hardiness of the inhabitants. Numerous walls defend the city and the land it's built upon, with the largest exterior wall branching from one lake to another and forming a strong front line. Further in, smaller interior walls break the city up into numerous parts to defend it more easily, further allowing the inhabitants to fall back as needed in the event of breaches in the ramparts. Due to the large influxes of immigrants over the ages, and lack of space, the city is quite crowded and as a result it built upwards more than outwards; many buildings go above two stories, some even up to six where pathways and bridges link roofs to make skyways above the roads below. Most of the buildings and walls are made of resilient adobe bricks, and many housing complexes have small gardens in their yards and more growing space on their flat topped roofs, along with water barrels, to take full advantage of the rains when they come. The Gumvine is a commonly grown crop for its many uses as food and utility, with trellises allowing the vines to scale from the yards up to the roofs. The narrow streets and winding alleys pose a daunting enough task to invaders, and these thorny plants growing all over only make the going worse for those not used to them. In the more spacious yards of important buildings, and in city parks, kapok trees imported from the western clans are grown to add ambiance and for access to their fiber for clothing.
In the event of a raid the population can retreat to the citadel at the far end of the city where shelters and stockpiles are kept for the civilians, these are built atop the hills with the interior walls guarding them to make for a brutally efficient perimeter, as the high ground only adds to the difficulty of attacking the settlement. In a worst case scenario the military can make its last stand here, so it is very much designed to protect the civilians as much as allow soldiers to fight as efficiently as possible. The Torrzal Estate is also located in this area, atop one of these hills.
An ingenious system of aqueducts and cisterns bring water in from the lakes and rivers and store it below ground to feed the needs of the population at large, and this is supplemented by many collection basins for saving rain water in the spring. These, combined with a sewer system that removes the effluence from the area and keeps the water potable, is what allows so many people to thrive in so harsh of a land. Some legends say that parts of this network of below ground tunnels and caverns far predates the city, and that Torrzal only found it and used it, adding expansions or repairing ruined sections as needed. Whatever the case, the fact that even the poorest citizen in this town has access to running water says a lot, where many people in the homeland of Zalboria do not.
Ironberg - The only other true city in Draanmor is Ironberg, and it's only a few decades old. Rogueport has little room for heavy industry, and the growing demand for industrial goods meant that the Torrzal clan either had to find a way to produce their own or import them from abroad at a premium. Always fans of self-sufficiency, that choice was the one favored. Ironberg is far west of the capital city and dug as much into the Barriers as it sprawls outwards from their base. Originally a mining community, the crown financed and established a majority of their heavy industry here. Factories in the town produce steel, guns, and mass-produced textiles. Farms to feed the latter industry and the resident population radiate outwards from its segmented walls, which guard it on two sides. The sheer rise of the barriers to the south guards the rear, and the Crag River posses a challenging barrier for anyone coming from the east. A single railroad, the only one in the Southlands in fact, connects it to Rogueport. The railway lines, the trains themselves, and the fuel to feed them was all produced by the city; a fact that the inhabitants take great pride in.
By and large, it sports a much lower population than the capital, and isn't as easily defended. For that reason there's always soldiers on guard to protect the area, as it's clearly the clan's weakest link. Should it fall in war it wouldn't spell certain defeat, cottage industries are still strong in Draanmor and the art of handmaking things is regarded as a prerequisite skill for most adults, but losing it would severely hamper their ability to produce heavy equipment. For all of these reasons, it has been a favored target of the Moruds since it evolved from a nameless mining community to a hub of industry. Several daring raids on the city have secured them modern armaments before, many of which have never again turned up.
Outlying Communities - Most clans have villages that remain more-or-less static year round, that tends to not be the case with population centers in Draanmor. What larger villages do exist are transient, usually mining towns or nomad camps that are abandoned when resources run out, the season changes, or things get too dangerous. Instead, many independent homesteads dot the landscape with handfuls of small hamlets located strategically in between to act as trade hubs and general places to gather and socialize with other farmers. These homesteads typically consist of a house, a stable, and a stacked-stone wall surrounding the three with all the farming or grazing land beyond the defensive zone. Said houses are almost unanimously built of adobe, because it's cheap and easy to get a lot of en masse, and their designs resemble military blockhouses more than the homes of most Zalborians. Going up two stories, they have small windows on the second floor only with a pair of entrances; one for people, and one for livestock. When under attack the family pulls the livestock inside and hides on the upper story to pepper attackers with relative impunity - as all families in Draanmor are required to be armed with at least one longarm for occasions just like this. Mud brick does not burn, and the thick walls of the house are strong enough to withstand cannonballs, so most raiders lack the time or firepower to dig out the steaders before moving on. In a pinch, the military has been able to fight from these fortified homes to great effect as well when deflecting massed bands of nomads preying on the rural populace.
The trade hubs are similar, but boast a few shops, a saloon that doubles as an inn, and usually a smith or two that see to the needs of their compatriots. These, too, tend to be fortified structures enclosed in a protective wall.
Hill Forts - The wasteland has many hills and ridges across its sprawling geography, formed by the wind blowing sand and soil that tough grasses took root atop of and solidified as they grew. When not taken by settlers, these hills are used to build hill forts that act as outposts, rallying points for soldiers, and places that people put to flight can run to for safety. These natural highlands are augmented by laying stones along the slopes and mortaring them together, making a normally laborious climb under fire even harder. A shallow trench circles the foot of the hill into which outward facing spikes are hammered, while walls are then built around the hill top's edges with a blockhouse at all three corners (these forts are most often triangular in layout). Between these lay barracks, armories, stockpiles for sieges, and other typical features for outposts. The ramparts of the hill fort are always adobe brick and not stone, like with the homesteads. They're built to be resilient strongpoints able to outlast a siege until help arrives, or to work as front line emplacements from which an attack came be mounted. Even though the usual foes faced by Torrzal do not possess artillery in great number, the idea that these forts may one day be used to face people that do has been factored into their design; so most also have rooms and cellars dug into the earth for storing sensitive materials and personnel in the event of a shelling. This has the added benefit of being cooler, as temperature drops slightly below ground.
Where no hills are available the clan has built artificial ones before, though they prefer not to do this due to the amount of work involved. Still, several of the more vitally located forts sit on highlands built by hand.
(Rough example of what these forts look like can be found here, but much smaller of course in overall size. Or like this.)
Ethnicities:
Something most nations outside of the Republic and Baladorax don’t have to deal with is the issue of ethnicity. Draanmor is the one other that does. The four main ethnic groups in their lands are the Boars, the Targs, the Serrans, and the Moruds. Others exist that are smaller or transient, however.
Boars – When Clan Torrzal first came to the Southlands the native tribes referred to them as “Zals”, which is shorthand for Zalors, which they paid the tribesmen with to help and fight for them. Since that made it hard to differentiate between the people and the currency, this changed to ‘Bors’, and overtime that slang evolved into ‘Boars’, a more correct spelling so to speak. Fitting in that it embodies the exile’s stubborn and adaptive nature, and supremely ironic considering Clan Lamont’s symbol back home is the boar.
Boars have deviated quite a bit from Zalborians, due to mixing with Raoecians, non-nomadic Meserrans, and other peoples that came to live in Rogueport beside them. Their skin is a bit darker than mainlanders’ and they tend towards darker hair and eyes, but this isn’t a hard rule. They’re the rulers and upper class in Draanmor, even though it has no gentry like in other clans.
The Boars tend to not mobilize their citizens much for war, and instead prefer to rely on mercenaries and levies from the targs and other group to fill out their ranks. What citizen-soldiers do go to war are extremely tough and robust troops thanks to a hard upbringing in an unforgiving land, even if their weaponry tends to be dated compared to most.
Targs – The targs that settled with the boars perform a good chunk of the labor in the city’s outskirts, particularly when it comes to ranching, and basically amount to second class citizens. While rights are short in the frontier community as it is, they have less than the boars do. Even so their living isn’t too bad, certainly safer than with their nomadic kinsmen who chose to keep their wandering lifestyle. Their art and culture has heavily influenced the city, and talented ones are able to get ahead in society without much trouble.
The targs have a strong warrior culture as former raiders, and those who still trek the wastes continue to attack other tribes and pick at the fringes of the Republic’s outlying settlements. The more civilized ones prove to be apt warriors when called upon. The targs outnumber the boars in population, though they're not as concentrated as their fairer brethren are in cities and villages. While they usually travel on camelback when available, the targs are extremely well adapted to the desert and a life of mobility, some say even supernaturally so, and they're able to walk and even run across the wastes for long spans and still end up fresh enough to fight a battle when they get to where they're going. In the early days, the boars feared them more than even the Moruds.
It should be noted that just because they 'settled' in Draanmor, does not mean those targs gave up their mobile lifestyle. Many still wander between temporary settlements tending to their crops and herds, but the difference is that they typically stay in the region and have pledged their support to the viceroy as subjects; while the more nomadic bunch wander far and wide, and generally do as they please with no one guiding them but their tribal elders.
Serrans – Different from the El Merserrans that settled in Rogueport and helped forge the boar bloodlines, this group encompasses the nomadic bunch. They’re prized mercenaries in Clan Torrzal and they can almost always find work as soldiers or guards. When not doing that they tend to packs of animals that they bring with them in their nomadic treks across the wasteland. Many tend to settle in the farms outlying the cities in the winter months to trade while the weather is cool and mild, and in spring they move out to semi-wild farms that they plant in the sprawling rural wasteland along their migratory paths, these farms are usually located near spartan dugout dwellings that burrow into the sides of hills and the feet of the Barriers. Their usual routes take them first from the mountains and then far inland to many hidden springs and oasis in the worst parts of the eastern deserts, closer to El Merrsara. For this reason they only rarely have disputes over resources and territory with the nomadic targs, who stay closer to the coast and regions west of Rogueport where aboveground water is more plentiful.
Moruds – Most of the time this group are referred to as ‘Reds’, a mutation from ‘Ruds’. The reason for this is three fold: Their penchant for red clothes, their ruddy skin, and their warlike and rumored cannibalistic nature. They constantly raid Rogueport's outlying settlements and other nomadic bands and take slaves when able, ushering them across the Barriers for reasons no one knows. Few taken have ever returned, and those few have always escaped in the wasteland or mountains, none come back if they’re carted off beyond the ranges. How many reds exist is unknown, but their numbers seem to be without end. While primitive, their tactics and savagery easily makes them a match for a modern force when engaging in the jungle or desert. Unknown to Torrzal, they raid as far south as the Republic’s southern reaches, meaning there could be many, many more people in this tribe than anyone could ever fathom.
Peaceful contact has only ever been established with them three times in recorded history. The first time was during the first winter after Rogueport was built, telling the settlers to leave or suffer. They made good on the threat the next spring when the boars did not leave.
The second time was about two centuries ago, when they sent priests and merchants to ask the ‘heathens’ to convert to their religion. Not buying it, Torrzal sent them away in peace.
The third time was during the Zalborian Civil War, when a warband of reds marched on the city and asked to join their war against ‘the Northerners’. How they knew of the war is beyond anyone’s guess, though the deal was accepted. When Torrzal’s part in the war concluded the reds left without a word, taking their share of the spoils and many, many prisoners with them. Whispers tell of a prophet amongst the tribes who is giving them insight into worldly affairs…and men are starting to wonder if perhaps that isn’t true, or if the tribes are more cunning with spies and intelligence gathering than anyone had believed. Either could prove very dire for the exiles...
Clan Torrzal has a founding significantly more convoluted and dark than perhaps any of its counterparts on the mainland of Zalboria. They did not begin as a clan at all, in fact, but a penal colony. Not long after Clan Kasorymor joined the kingdom, their explorers brought word of great riches and wealth in the blasted wastelands to the southwest, across the sea. Mountains of gold and precious resources, there for those able and willing to take them. But that was where the issue lied, none were willing, for few were able. The land was harsh, the flora and fauna hostile, and bands of raiders stalked the deserts attacking any that they came across. Few of the initial expeditions launched by the crown returned at all, and those that did, came back with their numbers dwindled; worn down by climate and adversary. It would seem that the wealth of the Southland would go untouched. But an opportunity presented itself.
Alan Zalbor was the second youngest son of the House of Zalbor, the founding and ruling clan of Zalboria after whom the entire nation took its name. He cared little for politics and spent most of his time studying history, war, and the arts than in the courts like a proper child of the crown should. While his kin were plying their trade and sharpening their wit in the castles and regions of the lesser clans’ nobility, Alan was debating history and theories of the world’s origin in public libraries and universities amongst the learned men of the land. Alan had quickly become the black sheep of the family, though the title bothered him little. Misfortune would befall the man on his 20th birthday, during the lavish party his family threw for him to celebrate the occasion. During the festivities he caught his older brother Briac hitting on his wife of two years late into the night as the celebration carried on to midnight and beyond. Both had quite a bit to drink by that point, so it shocked no one when a fight broke out between the two nobles. What did shock his family and guests was Alan plunging a kitchen knife into the throat of his kinsmen, who died near instantly from the fatal wound. The younger Zalborian fled the palace immediately when he realized what he had done, taking his friends and servants with him into the countryside. What began as a heinous crime, kinslaying, grew as peasants flocked to his side and aid. Alan was a popular man because he was down to earth and did not hold himself to a high perch like many of his family did, peering down their noses at the common blooded. When the first groups of manhunters were beaten and sent running an army was put on his tail, and it seemed like an insurrection was set to break out.
Not wanting to have his friends slaughtered, Alan gave himself up and put himself at the mercy of the knights who came to arrest him. This put the High King in an unusual position, but one he could exploit. Rather than kill the man, and risk upsetting the countryside further, the king wanted to appear ‘merciful’ and declared that Alan, his wife, and his supporters were not to be harmed; they would be exiled. To nowhere other than the Southlands, where a new penal colony would be founded just for him and his malcontents. Not only would the High King be able to tap the resources of the south, it would also give him and excuse to dispose of opponents to his rule without needing bloodshed; strengthening his position while appearing progressive and benign. They were rounded up and loaded onto ships by the end of the month, along with crooks, thieves, and any other scum the crown and guard wanted rid of.
They were dropped off with just enough supplies to be called adequate on the coast of the Southlands, hundreds of miles of sea barring them from ever returning home. With no other choice, they built for themselves a small city atop some sprawling foothills in between three great lakes, the only life givers for some distance in the trackless badlands. The exiles derisively referred to their own ramshackle town as ‘Rogueport’, and the name stuck ever since. When the first foundation was laid down the congregation of castaways was called together by Alan, where he announced that his name from that day forward would be Alan Torrzal, dropping the name of his family and taking another. Distant, but similar enough that none would forget his roots. As an exile king amongst exiles, he set to work establishing a safe haven for those with him.
It was not easy going. The nearest lake to the city was salty, it could not be drank, and it often flooded in spring from rain or when snow in the Barrier Mountains to the west and south melted; both feeding the river that winded down from the peaks and into the lagoon. The lush woods to the town’s southern edge that looked so inviting from the ships were instead part of a soupy salt marsh that began at the coast and wrapped around the banks of the southern two lakes. Even where the marshy ground gave way to more normal trees, the fauna all bore nasty spines and housed poisonous flora. Nomadic bands began to raid the community their second month, forcing the settlers to fight tooth and nail to survive, while the land made them import water from further north to supply the needs of themselves and crops. The weather was as merciless as the rest of their territory; scorching hot in summer, freezing at night, and rainy in spring. Only winter offered much respite.
Many supplies had to be imported at inflated cost by the crown itself, who nickel and dimed the exiles, making them work hard to provide exotic goods to feed the clan’s coffers least they be cut off. With no other alternatives, the Torrzals and their ‘clansmen’ were forced to comply. As the riches grew the royal clan sent more men, bandits, criminals, political opponents, and anyone else they didn’t care for and could trump up charges on found themselves on a boat to Rogueport. Several other Zalborian clans joined into the practice, and Raoecia did so as well. New blood flowed in to replace old as it was spilled to feed the unyielding thirst of the wasteland.
Somehow the community survived, though it most certainly did not prosper by any means of the word. The place was nothing short of miserable, whether you were in town or in the wilderness. Few people who went there returned, save for the merchants from clans Zalbor and Kasorymor. Further influxes of new population came from the destruction and assimilation of other nations to the south and east, the mysterious Neos Nation and El Merssera being two examples. When their nations were ruined or absorbed refugees from homes now gone were set to flight, with some settling in the city – as it is the final point of civilization in the west.
Part of the city’s success is due in part to the natives with whom they have dealings. The first of these groups are the Targs. When Alan Torrzal first landed at the Southlands the Targs were a nomadic band that wandered along the coast with herds of camels and other domesticated beasts. They had been at war for generations with another tribal group known as the Moruds. Both made war on the settlers, but towards the end of Alan Torrzal’s life he managed to broker a deal with the Targ tribes in the area, whom had been losing again and again to the Moruds. The two joined forces and drove the latter over the mountains. Of the five Targ tribes remaining, two joined with the foreigners and settled in region beside them. The rest remained nomadic, though on friendly terms.
While some of the lost Merserrans settled in the area, many remained nomadic, and the Torrzals made alliances with them as well. They, too, now help to fight the Moruds who are a constant threat to any on the coastal side of the mountains.
The Torrzals becoming a clan is a fairly recent happening, as far as national history goes. During the Zalborian Civil War clan Zalbor was doing very, very badly. With Clan Lamont making huge gains the nobility started to get antsy, knowing that if the penal colony wanted to break their chains they could not stop them. Acting first, the High King offered them a place in the nation once again if they would supply men and materials for their war effort. A tongue in cheek gesture at best, they would not receive the title of ‘duke’ or ‘margrave’ or any such esteemed position, but ‘viceroy’. Despite the bitter taste of that indignity, the offer was too good to refuse, and if nothing else – the Zalborians were still their blood. They accepted the title and marched to war, returning home for the first time in far too long.
Even so they couldn’t change the tide of the war, and Zalbor was ousted as the royal clan with Lamont taking their place. In a twist of fate that was utterly delicious, distant kin of the old ruling clan and their supporters were forced to flee to the Southlands; the only other option they had when Lamont supporters sealed the borders to Raoecia, where they would be safe with their kinsmen in the neighboring state. The new rulers were either too weak or too politically minded to rescind the newly minted title of Clan Torrzal, so it remains to this day.
Lands:
The region ‘claimed’ by Clan Torrzal is called Draanmor, and its borders extend much further than even the richest clan’s territory back home – being nobody save the uncivilized bands can contest their ownership. Despite what many think at first it isn’t entirely desert, though it is far from hospitable. Sandy soil hosts a large number of mosses, grasses, and shrubs that prevent the soil from eroding too terribly, and with some work this land can be coaxed to yield crops. Two of the three lakes beside the city bring in fresh water, and both rivers that feed all three are likewise mercifully low in salt. Cunning, if primitive irrigation, goes a long way in providing for the population. The hardy and fast growing vegetation also makes it well suited to keeping domesticated animals, which the settlers adopted in their first years from the locals to make ends meet. Generally, the further south one goes, the more arid the land gets. The lands further west remain semi-arable, but going too far from the city isn’t something any but the most adventurous try to do. Trees aren’t rare in this belt of land, but they rarely form cohesive forests far from the two main rivers. Though the clan claims the Barrier Mountains there are constant skirmishes in the slopes and peaks with the Moruds, who reside on the other side of the sprawling range.
Geography of Note:
The Bramblewood – The largest forest anywhere west of El Merserra is known as the Bramblewood. An unusual area, it blends salt marsh with forest. The wide lagoon south of Rogueport is high in saline from deposits left during high tide, making it much too high in salt to support most types of plantlife. Resilient mangrove-style trees managed to adapt to the adverse conditions and wrap around the entirety of Lake Isolde and half of Lake Myrna to the west; where it merges and gives way to more traditional woodland sporting tall trees with few branches save those at the top that fan out to collect sun and water. Woody vines crawl up from the trunks and roots of both types and twine between both ‘biomes’, with grasses, flowers, and mosses living on the drier ground and tall reed-plants acting as their counterparts in the soupier saltmarsh. Fungi are equally common in both sections to break down dead matter and return nutrients to the blasted terrain. Certainly an interesting terrain feature, it extends for quite some distance following the Blood River back towards the mountains and the coastline southward.
What many people do not realize at first is that quite a few of those plants are carnivorous, or at least evolved to maximize chances of survival in the harsh landscape. Most species of flowering plant have sticky, acidic prongs that grab and digest insects that would feed on their leaves – yet their powdery pollen breaks down and neutralizes this acid, so pollinators are free to propagate the species unmolested. The trees and vines have wicked thorns along their entire length from which the forest takes its name, and they’re very easy to prick a finger on or worse. It isn’t uncommon to see strips of skin from animals on these barbs from predator and prey both as they weave between the trunks, feeding the plants as this leftover biological matter drops to the forest floor and decays. The leaves of the mangrove trees contain a powerful toxin that kills anything that eats them in minutes, which the plethora of bacteria and fungi in the marsh break down to feed the entire ecosystem in days. It is not a nice place. Animal life is equally diverse, but many of the flora that live here also persist in the wasteland at large. A large number of predators and insects living here are very willing to attack a person, as the carcass of a man could feed a pack of desert wolves for many days or flesh eating bugs for many weeks.
Even so many foodstuffs come from the Bramblewood. The vines produce tiny fruits that can be collected for sustenance, and the bodies of these winding plants are one of the few sources of natural rubber that the nations of the world have access to, their trunks providing raw latex when tapped. This goopy white substance is what gave the vine its name of ‘Gumvine’. They’re very resilient and widely cultivated inside the walls of Rogueport. The thorn trees grow rough skinned fruits with studded rinds that are bitter, but edible, and the thorns can be sheared off and ground into flour since they regrow seasonally. Some of the mosses and grasses can also be eaten, and dark brown mushrooms that grow in the shade of the trees are hearty and taste like red meat – but collecting these is dangerous, as most species are toxic, a fine eye is needed to find those that are safe. Reeds from the swamp can be used to make waterproof paper, and while not very tasty, the lower parts can be eaten while the tops are taken for crafts. Little wood is actually harvested from the forest, both as a measure of safety and defense, as it is their southern rampart and for that reason many official mandates prevent logging in any number. For that reason trees of other types are typically grown closer to town and harvested when that resources is required. When it does show up, wood from the forest is hard and useful in weapons and housing when seasoned, but adobe is the cheaper and preferred option for steads. Imported species of trees, whether from further south or abroad, provide nuts as another booster crop.
People from Zalboria might be inclined to not call it a forest at all, being that the trees are spaced widely enough apart that one could drive a small car between the trunks without much issue. Even so, navigating it isn’t as easy as one might think with the branches overhead forming quite the canopy, and there are few landmarks once you’re inside.
The Three Lakes – Lake Isolde, Lake Myrna, and Lake Apirka are the three standing bodies of water around the city. Directionally, Isolde is South, Myrna is Southwest, and Apirka Northwest of Rogueport. The former is more of a lagoon, due to its high salt content, but the other two are freshwater. Apirka is the one tapped most often for irrigation and drinking water, as Myrna is deep in the Bramblewood and thus not very safe to travel to. In addition to providing water they also provide defense, the waterways boxing in the settlement and making it so only one land approach is really viable. The resultant chokepoint has been where many Torrzal defenders made their stand over the long years.
The Two Rivers – The Blood River begins in the Barrier Mountains and cuts across the wasteland, bringing life to an otherwise desolate land; acting as an artery to the region's wellbeing. Legend goes that the name comes from the first batch of exiles to the Southlands, who cut their throats with brambles on its banks rather than suffer life in the badlands. In truth, the name comes from the high iron content in the water due to its mountainous origins. Despite this metal making it smell like blood, it’s potable. This river feeds the two southern lakes.
The Spear River to the north also comes down from the Barriers, but it shoots almost straight to the coastline, hence its name. Its largest tributary feeds Lake Apirka. These aren't the only rivers in the region, but they are the ones closest to the capital.
The Barrier Mountains – Even the wide mountain ranges of Paemir look like foothills next to the mighty Barriers, which extend further than any man has ever gone. Some say it forms the edge of the world, and only abyss lays on the other side. Or at the very least, it must extend all the way to the border of existence. The mountain’s slopes are rugged and treacherous, but hold vast mineral wealth. Old ruins from ages long past dot its many peaks and valleys, and these are as coveted by prospectors as the mines themselves. The problem is that the extremely hostile Morud tribes call them home, and vicious fighting takes place over territory here. Mining towns and villages are set up and torn down or destroyed near monthly, and both sides have erected, destroyed, built, and rebuilt watch posts in the passes so many times that they’re now closer to fortresses than lookouts.
In recent years the Boars and their allies have managed to push the Moruds beyond the mountains and secure some measure of safe land. What lies beyond the mountains, no one can say. Tales from mountain men tell that vast hosts of Moruds live in sprawling jungles beyond the Barriers that could spill out and sweep aside their city at any moment. Few, if any, take these seriously, but since those reports first came in the mountain guard has doubled…
Unfortunately not just Moruds prowl the mountains, many predators do as well ranging from mammals to large birds and reptiles that live in mountain lakes and streams. More fantastic tales tell of mountain trolls living in the most remote caves that come down during the new moon to devour men whole. Supposedly they’re fell allies of the Moruds, but no one has ever seen one outside of Torrzal, despite monster hunters from Kollelkost coming to see for themselves. Coniferous trees and other hardy plants grow in the more spacious mountain valleys, and over the years several of these have been cultivated elsewhere; nuts from the Draanmor Cedar are a common foodstuff produced by treefarms near Rogueport.
The crags themselves also prove dangerous, rock slides and flash floods aren’t unknown, and even avalanches can happen higher up towards the very tips of the mountains where it is cold enough for snow to fall. Getting lost in the winding passes is also very easy without a map or guide, and the few beaten trails that exist are followed near religiously when they must be trekked.
Man-made Features of Note:
Rogueport - The city of exiles, this town has held on for longer than most people can, or want, to remember. It's typically considered the last bastion of safety and civilization in the world, and that's correct on at least a few levels. Located in between three lakes and with its back to the sea, a swamp to one side, and a number of hills that make excellent places to build, it is very defensible. Perhaps that is the only reason it lasted so long, that and the hardiness of the inhabitants. Numerous walls defend the city and the land it's built upon, with the largest exterior wall branching from one lake to another and forming a strong front line. Further in, smaller interior walls break the city up into numerous parts to defend it more easily, further allowing the inhabitants to fall back as needed in the event of breaches in the ramparts. Due to the large influxes of immigrants over the ages, and lack of space, the city is quite crowded and as a result it built upwards more than outwards; many buildings go above two stories, some even up to six where pathways and bridges link roofs to make skyways above the roads below. Most of the buildings and walls are made of resilient adobe bricks, and many housing complexes have small gardens in their yards and more growing space on their flat topped roofs, along with water barrels, to take full advantage of the rains when they come. The Gumvine is a commonly grown crop for its many uses as food and utility, with trellises allowing the vines to scale from the yards up to the roofs. The narrow streets and winding alleys pose a daunting enough task to invaders, and these thorny plants growing all over only make the going worse for those not used to them. In the more spacious yards of important buildings, and in city parks, kapok trees imported from the western clans are grown to add ambiance and for access to their fiber for clothing.
In the event of a raid the population can retreat to the citadel at the far end of the city where shelters and stockpiles are kept for the civilians, these are built atop the hills with the interior walls guarding them to make for a brutally efficient perimeter, as the high ground only adds to the difficulty of attacking the settlement. In a worst case scenario the military can make its last stand here, so it is very much designed to protect the civilians as much as allow soldiers to fight as efficiently as possible. The Torrzal Estate is also located in this area, atop one of these hills.
An ingenious system of aqueducts and cisterns bring water in from the lakes and rivers and store it below ground to feed the needs of the population at large, and this is supplemented by many collection basins for saving rain water in the spring. These, combined with a sewer system that removes the effluence from the area and keeps the water potable, is what allows so many people to thrive in so harsh of a land. Some legends say that parts of this network of below ground tunnels and caverns far predates the city, and that Torrzal only found it and used it, adding expansions or repairing ruined sections as needed. Whatever the case, the fact that even the poorest citizen in this town has access to running water says a lot, where many people in the homeland of Zalboria do not.
Ironberg - The only other true city in Draanmor is Ironberg, and it's only a few decades old. Rogueport has little room for heavy industry, and the growing demand for industrial goods meant that the Torrzal clan either had to find a way to produce their own or import them from abroad at a premium. Always fans of self-sufficiency, that choice was the one favored. Ironberg is far west of the capital city and dug as much into the Barriers as it sprawls outwards from their base. Originally a mining community, the crown financed and established a majority of their heavy industry here. Factories in the town produce steel, guns, and mass-produced textiles. Farms to feed the latter industry and the resident population radiate outwards from its segmented walls, which guard it on two sides. The sheer rise of the barriers to the south guards the rear, and the Crag River posses a challenging barrier for anyone coming from the east. A single railroad, the only one in the Southlands in fact, connects it to Rogueport. The railway lines, the trains themselves, and the fuel to feed them was all produced by the city; a fact that the inhabitants take great pride in.
By and large, it sports a much lower population than the capital, and isn't as easily defended. For that reason there's always soldiers on guard to protect the area, as it's clearly the clan's weakest link. Should it fall in war it wouldn't spell certain defeat, cottage industries are still strong in Draanmor and the art of handmaking things is regarded as a prerequisite skill for most adults, but losing it would severely hamper their ability to produce heavy equipment. For all of these reasons, it has been a favored target of the Moruds since it evolved from a nameless mining community to a hub of industry. Several daring raids on the city have secured them modern armaments before, many of which have never again turned up.
Outlying Communities - Most clans have villages that remain more-or-less static year round, that tends to not be the case with population centers in Draanmor. What larger villages do exist are transient, usually mining towns or nomad camps that are abandoned when resources run out, the season changes, or things get too dangerous. Instead, many independent homesteads dot the landscape with handfuls of small hamlets located strategically in between to act as trade hubs and general places to gather and socialize with other farmers. These homesteads typically consist of a house, a stable, and a stacked-stone wall surrounding the three with all the farming or grazing land beyond the defensive zone. Said houses are almost unanimously built of adobe, because it's cheap and easy to get a lot of en masse, and their designs resemble military blockhouses more than the homes of most Zalborians. Going up two stories, they have small windows on the second floor only with a pair of entrances; one for people, and one for livestock. When under attack the family pulls the livestock inside and hides on the upper story to pepper attackers with relative impunity - as all families in Draanmor are required to be armed with at least one longarm for occasions just like this. Mud brick does not burn, and the thick walls of the house are strong enough to withstand cannonballs, so most raiders lack the time or firepower to dig out the steaders before moving on. In a pinch, the military has been able to fight from these fortified homes to great effect as well when deflecting massed bands of nomads preying on the rural populace.
The trade hubs are similar, but boast a few shops, a saloon that doubles as an inn, and usually a smith or two that see to the needs of their compatriots. These, too, tend to be fortified structures enclosed in a protective wall.
Hill Forts - The wasteland has many hills and ridges across its sprawling geography, formed by the wind blowing sand and soil that tough grasses took root atop of and solidified as they grew. When not taken by settlers, these hills are used to build hill forts that act as outposts, rallying points for soldiers, and places that people put to flight can run to for safety. These natural highlands are augmented by laying stones along the slopes and mortaring them together, making a normally laborious climb under fire even harder. A shallow trench circles the foot of the hill into which outward facing spikes are hammered, while walls are then built around the hill top's edges with a blockhouse at all three corners (these forts are most often triangular in layout). Between these lay barracks, armories, stockpiles for sieges, and other typical features for outposts. The ramparts of the hill fort are always adobe brick and not stone, like with the homesteads. They're built to be resilient strongpoints able to outlast a siege until help arrives, or to work as front line emplacements from which an attack came be mounted. Even though the usual foes faced by Torrzal do not possess artillery in great number, the idea that these forts may one day be used to face people that do has been factored into their design; so most also have rooms and cellars dug into the earth for storing sensitive materials and personnel in the event of a shelling. This has the added benefit of being cooler, as temperature drops slightly below ground.
Where no hills are available the clan has built artificial ones before, though they prefer not to do this due to the amount of work involved. Still, several of the more vitally located forts sit on highlands built by hand.
(Rough example of what these forts look like can be found here, but much smaller of course in overall size. Or like this.)
Ethnicities:
Something most nations outside of the Republic and Baladorax don’t have to deal with is the issue of ethnicity. Draanmor is the one other that does. The four main ethnic groups in their lands are the Boars, the Targs, the Serrans, and the Moruds. Others exist that are smaller or transient, however.
Boars – When Clan Torrzal first came to the Southlands the native tribes referred to them as “Zals”, which is shorthand for Zalors, which they paid the tribesmen with to help and fight for them. Since that made it hard to differentiate between the people and the currency, this changed to ‘Bors’, and overtime that slang evolved into ‘Boars’, a more correct spelling so to speak. Fitting in that it embodies the exile’s stubborn and adaptive nature, and supremely ironic considering Clan Lamont’s symbol back home is the boar.
Boars have deviated quite a bit from Zalborians, due to mixing with Raoecians, non-nomadic Meserrans, and other peoples that came to live in Rogueport beside them. Their skin is a bit darker than mainlanders’ and they tend towards darker hair and eyes, but this isn’t a hard rule. They’re the rulers and upper class in Draanmor, even though it has no gentry like in other clans.
The Boars tend to not mobilize their citizens much for war, and instead prefer to rely on mercenaries and levies from the targs and other group to fill out their ranks. What citizen-soldiers do go to war are extremely tough and robust troops thanks to a hard upbringing in an unforgiving land, even if their weaponry tends to be dated compared to most.
Targs – The targs that settled with the boars perform a good chunk of the labor in the city’s outskirts, particularly when it comes to ranching, and basically amount to second class citizens. While rights are short in the frontier community as it is, they have less than the boars do. Even so their living isn’t too bad, certainly safer than with their nomadic kinsmen who chose to keep their wandering lifestyle. Their art and culture has heavily influenced the city, and talented ones are able to get ahead in society without much trouble.
The targs have a strong warrior culture as former raiders, and those who still trek the wastes continue to attack other tribes and pick at the fringes of the Republic’s outlying settlements. The more civilized ones prove to be apt warriors when called upon. The targs outnumber the boars in population, though they're not as concentrated as their fairer brethren are in cities and villages. While they usually travel on camelback when available, the targs are extremely well adapted to the desert and a life of mobility, some say even supernaturally so, and they're able to walk and even run across the wastes for long spans and still end up fresh enough to fight a battle when they get to where they're going. In the early days, the boars feared them more than even the Moruds.
It should be noted that just because they 'settled' in Draanmor, does not mean those targs gave up their mobile lifestyle. Many still wander between temporary settlements tending to their crops and herds, but the difference is that they typically stay in the region and have pledged their support to the viceroy as subjects; while the more nomadic bunch wander far and wide, and generally do as they please with no one guiding them but their tribal elders.
Serrans – Different from the El Merserrans that settled in Rogueport and helped forge the boar bloodlines, this group encompasses the nomadic bunch. They’re prized mercenaries in Clan Torrzal and they can almost always find work as soldiers or guards. When not doing that they tend to packs of animals that they bring with them in their nomadic treks across the wasteland. Many tend to settle in the farms outlying the cities in the winter months to trade while the weather is cool and mild, and in spring they move out to semi-wild farms that they plant in the sprawling rural wasteland along their migratory paths, these farms are usually located near spartan dugout dwellings that burrow into the sides of hills and the feet of the Barriers. Their usual routes take them first from the mountains and then far inland to many hidden springs and oasis in the worst parts of the eastern deserts, closer to El Merrsara. For this reason they only rarely have disputes over resources and territory with the nomadic targs, who stay closer to the coast and regions west of Rogueport where aboveground water is more plentiful.
Moruds – Most of the time this group are referred to as ‘Reds’, a mutation from ‘Ruds’. The reason for this is three fold: Their penchant for red clothes, their ruddy skin, and their warlike and rumored cannibalistic nature. They constantly raid Rogueport's outlying settlements and other nomadic bands and take slaves when able, ushering them across the Barriers for reasons no one knows. Few taken have ever returned, and those few have always escaped in the wasteland or mountains, none come back if they’re carted off beyond the ranges. How many reds exist is unknown, but their numbers seem to be without end. While primitive, their tactics and savagery easily makes them a match for a modern force when engaging in the jungle or desert. Unknown to Torrzal, they raid as far south as the Republic’s southern reaches, meaning there could be many, many more people in this tribe than anyone could ever fathom.
Peaceful contact has only ever been established with them three times in recorded history. The first time was during the first winter after Rogueport was built, telling the settlers to leave or suffer. They made good on the threat the next spring when the boars did not leave.
The second time was about two centuries ago, when they sent priests and merchants to ask the ‘heathens’ to convert to their religion. Not buying it, Torrzal sent them away in peace.
The third time was during the Zalborian Civil War, when a warband of reds marched on the city and asked to join their war against ‘the Northerners’. How they knew of the war is beyond anyone’s guess, though the deal was accepted. When Torrzal’s part in the war concluded the reds left without a word, taking their share of the spoils and many, many prisoners with them. Whispers tell of a prophet amongst the tribes who is giving them insight into worldly affairs…and men are starting to wonder if perhaps that isn’t true, or if the tribes are more cunning with spies and intelligence gathering than anyone had believed. Either could prove very dire for the exiles...