[Culture] Mihyaar, the City of Skullduggery

[Hephaestus 1326]

 

Spoiler

 

 

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MIHYAAR, THE CITY OF SKULLDUGGERY

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[Emē-gir]

“𐤀𐤍𐤊 𐤕𐤁𐤍𐤕 𐤊𐤄𐤍 𐤏𐤔𐤕𐤓𐤕 𐤌𐤋𐤊 𐤑𐤃𐤍𐤌 𐤁𐤍

𐤀𐤔𐤌𐤍𐤏𐤆𐤓 𐤊𐤄𐤍 𐤏𐤔𐤕𐤓𐤕 𐤌𐤋𐤊 𐤑𐤃𐤍𐤌 𐤔𐤊𐤁 𐤁𐤀𐤓𐤍 𐤆,

𐤌𐤉 𐤀𐤕 𐤊𐤋 𐤀𐤃𐤌 𐤀𐤔 𐤕𐤐𐤒

𐤀𐤋 𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕𐤉 𐤅𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤓𐤂𐤆𐤍

𐤊 𐤕𐤏𐤁𐤕 𐤏𐤔𐤕𐤓𐤕 𐤄𐤃𐤁𐤓 𐤄𐤀

 

𐤅𐤀𐤌 𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕𐤉 𐤅𐤓𐤂𐤆 𐤕𐤓𐤂𐤆

𐤀𐤋 𐤉𐤊𐤍 𐤋𐤊 𐤆𐤓𐤏 𐤁𐤇𐤉𐤌 𐤕𐤇𐤕 𐤔𐤌𐤔”

 

[Interpreted]

“Before his toes touch the threshold of Baal-Hazor, in Mihyaar, he reads,

   The blood shed on Yultharan shores,

   Since its beginnings, has spelled a splintered history.

   Leaving the scene, Ur-Mihyar hums,

 

“In the beginning was the word.

In the beginning of the word was ‘blood.’ ”

— CHRONICLE OF BAAL-HAZOR,

1732.

 

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INDEX

 

I. History …

a. Compiled History …

II. Traditions & Rituals …

  a. Common Values …

b. Naming Conventions; Onomastics …

III. Distinctions & Attributes …

a. Mihyaari Appearance …

b. Lexicon …

IV. Civilisation & Society …

a. Caste System …

b. Military …

i. Ksathriya …

ii. Instruments of War …

c. Architecture …

 

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I - COMPILED HISTORY

 

 

“With the basest companions,

I walked the streets of Baal-Hazor,

in whose filth and wickedness I wallowed,

as if in a bed of spices and precious ointments.”

— BELSHEZZAAR OF MIHYAR,

1663.

 

In the far reaches of the west, crested by smog and haar, the peninsula of Yulthar settles itself — a realm parallel to that of the descendants. Jungle canopies mottle the forsaken stretch of land: bulwarking all in a shade and blackness which knows no breadth nor borders. For, there that land of beach and pier suits a secluded people — Yultharans — from which the first strata of Easterners is rumoured to have developed. Shantytowns and destitute wharfs littered the banks of that western archipelago, whose docks seemed adjacent those of the common descendant, wherefrom a caste of fief-owners and lordlings found their foothold — and at the summit of those ranks, was Ur-Mihyar.

 

i. He is a language glistening between the masts,

ii. he is the inquisitor of strange words.

 

These words were said of Ur-Mihyar: a pillar of Yultharan secularism, and martial fortitude. And, all leagues of common Man coalesced at the fief-lord’s beck and call; ranks which would stretch from seabound sailors to the likes of Aeldinic holymen and downcast courtesans. It was the destitution and carnage of Yulthar from which their desperation came, in terror of the fiends and bogeymen who besieged the fortress’ and battlements of the Yultharans, and lingered in the dankest precipices of the peninsula, when night settled.

Ur-Mihyar’s gospels vowed solidarity in that final bastion of Yultharans. For, preservation was the name of that enclave’s grave game — breeding the least shreds and vestiges of valour and will in the fellest of souls. The refugees stood the ranks of that caste, once so few, so many that their numbers tallied those of a nation; all cattle bound to one another, brother-by-brother, in the very same yoke. Baal-Hazor, it was known, this fraternity of theirs.

 

Splintered  by reason of those beasts which found solace in the embrace of night, however, the folk of Ur-Mihyar’s caste, which stacked stones so high that their spires were once fated never to be toppled, were cast and driven from the shantytowns of their comeuppance as exiles. Tempests from all four corners of the realm encroached the ships of Ur-Mihyar, their steepled sails sundered by the violent gales, sending the fellowship into the bowels of the sea — their ships subsumed by tossing tides and currents, doomed to see not a shred of day any longer. 

 

The riptide subsided, and stragglers from that motley Yultharan band escaped the watery below. And, from below their waists, they took sight of a shoal which churned with some ineffable blackness. Feared and revered in equal gravity, this wanton body of water was dubbed the False Sea, tapering to a narrow inlet which spanned all of Rh’thor’s exotic reaches in many an offshoot stream which foamed with that unnamable iniquity. For, situated within the dreaded moors of Rh’thor, the folk of Ur-Mihyar cobbled walkways which stretched into reaches yonder fro. And, they did stack their stones once more, two-by-two, their spires and minarets spangled with thatch and manure.

 

Though furtive they were, that band of exiles broke bread with the denizens of the sea-girt realm of Rh’thor, eclipsed by leaden fumes, and postulated like sons under the same sun. They shared bridechambers, and joined one another under the briars of marriage and familial covenants; so much so that these Yultharan lepers immersed their own skin with scar-borne seals and glyphs. They were mementos and signets of lineage, aspirations, and triumphs. Yultharan minstrels and bohemians said, of this newly-charted peninsula,

 

"Undeath has changed this city's shape—this stone

is a child's head—

and smoke is exhaled from Man's lungs.

Each thing recites its exile."

 

It was here from which the present Mihyaari covenants of Baal-Hazor were contrived, joining the Easterner and Rh’thoraen conventions and values under a single ethnos. A syncretism of cultural identities which prospered to constitute this doctrine.

 

Cast from the Rh’thoraen steppe, the, then decrepit, fief-lord, Ur-Mihyar, decreed a second exodus from the Xionist prairie. Consensus with regards to his declaration is undefined, however, and is interpreted as largely apocryphal. It is suggested, by wit of some chronicles, that the thane disparaged the catechumens and laymen of Geitheros, the Red Prophet. Others argue it was by reason of his nigh-failing grasp upon common logic — the early frameworks and pygmy of his later-developed mania.

The banks of that forsaken peninsula became rife once more with the sails of the exiles, thrashing before their vessels were launched into unknown vistas in the east. And, on the first fortnight of their trek eastward, Ur-Mihyar laid claim and dominion to the waters which the oars of their ships ploughed: sea to glistering sea.

 

“Let this strait, from its inlets in the east, 

to its banks in the west,

be known as Baal-Hazor. And her people,

let them be known Baal’hai.”

— UR-MIHYAR,

1693.

 

And, it was during the first of their sea-bound summers, that plague and malaise plundered Ur-Mihyar, sending him into his death’s throes. It was later written;

 

[Emē-gir]

𐤀𐤋 𐤉𐤊𐤍 𐤋𐤊 𐤆𐤓𐤏 𐤁𐤇𐤉𐤌 𐤕𐤇𐤕"

 

𐤀𐤋 𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕𐤉 𐤅𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤓𐤂𐤆𐤍 𐤊 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓𐤋𐤍 𐤊𐤎𐤐 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓 𐤋𐤍 𐤇𐤓𐤑 𐤅𐤊𐤋 𐤌𐤍𐤌 𐤌𐤔𐤃 𐤊 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓𐤋𐤍 𐤊𐤎 𐤌𐤉 𐤀𐤕 𐤊𐤋 𐤀𐤃𐤌 𐤀𐤔 𐤕𐤐𐤒 𐤀𐤉𐤕 𐤄𐤀𐤓𐤍 𐤅𐤌𐤔𐤊𐤁 𐤀𐤕 𐤓𐤐𐤀𐤌 𐤀𐤋 𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕𐤉 𐤅𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤓𐤂𐤆𐤍 

 

 𐤀𐤃𐤌 𐤀𐤔 𐤕𐤐𐤒 𐤀𐤉𐤕 𐤄𐤀𐤓 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕𐤉 𐤅 𐤔𐤕𐤓𐤕 𐤌𐤋𐤊 𐤑𐤃𐤍𐤌 𐤔𐤊𐤁 𐤁𐤀𐤓 𐤉 𐤀𐤓𐤋𐤍 𐤊𐤎𐤐 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓 𐤋𐤍 𐤇𐤓𐤑 𐤅𐤊𐤋 𐤋 𐤕𐤓𐤂𐤆𐤍 𐤊 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓𐤋𐤍 𐤊𐤎𐤐 𐤀𐤉 𐤀𐤓

 

"𐤌 𐤀𐤋 𐤀𐤋 𐤕𐤐𐤕𐤇 𐤏𐤋𐤕  𐤀𐤃𐤌 𐤀𐤔 𐤕𐤐𐤒 𐤀𐤉𐤕 𐤄𐤀𐤓𐤍 

 

[Interpreted]

“Given at the seventh of Yathrib, this year of 1696,

 

It was Ur-Mihyar, with whom I have not very much camaraderie nor chummery, wherefrom that noisome hacking in the night came. The thrumming which sent the bosom of my ear ringing with unease. The furtive mourning and gibbering which ululated for the remedies and ointments at his bedside.

 

I was called unto his bedchambers, at which I took sight of his apathetic state. He was as if a praying mantis, the ends of his hair burnt to a brittle straw; and, dank cavities with which his pallid eyes were carried. His pores were inflamed, ‘O Promised-Lord, with cysts which were like the citrus forage and fodder of Baal-Hazor, now many a sea away from me.

 

Now, Ur-Belshezzar dresses in his borrowed robes. The litany of burial and sepulture is due, in the coming month. I fear what havoc is afoot. Light the candles: this winter will be no easy one.”

— MEMOIR OF SHADRACH OF YULTHAR,

1696.

 

 

Those antiquated ships flanked ramshackle, descendant docks, ringing out with a discordant fanfare which trilled throughout the Arcas steppe. The tallow-skinned seamen of old Baal-Hazor charted that shoreside bearing the same fruit of their antiquity, on the shores of Yulthar: penury. Penniless and hapless in equal severity, those Yultharan paupers mounted wares astride their mules and mares, and horses and howdahs – from corner to corner, festooned and decorated with threads and wreaths, those proud mounts.

Their newly vested regnant lord, Ur-Belshezzar, rode in tow, settling himself within some gaudy palanquin at its forefront: charging the Baal-Hazor band into new vistas of discovery and civilization.

 

The diaspora sequestered themselves in caverns measureless to Man, charting the extremities of the earth. Beset by the winter clime of the hollow below, and driven to lunacy by reason of their isolation, however, the paupers stooped so low as to pillage the alms and arms of nearby hamlets and boroughs, though squalid and feckless they were. And then, the name of war was spilt from lip to lip, only hushed hearsay: crescendoing into some great concert and call to heed which thrummed throughout the subterranean depths and all the way to kingdom come.

 

On the solstice of that year, the straits and streams of a curious island babbled with the gore of Baal-Hazor, its people plundered and thrust into the throes of warfare with the fell marauders of Seyam. And, smoke ran like fine molasses in the near vista: invoking, for once, a fear which could not be quelled in the spirits of those penitent folk of Baal-Hazor. 

 

How the mighty had fallen, that, distressed by the strife of those sun-kissed Seyami, the diaspora acquiesced to their wishes and conventions — catapulted into the snares of indentured servitude, by the conniving warmongers and slave drivers.

Christened as Mihyaar, a bastardization of the people’s father, the term means to topple, in Seyami, torn from the lips of lamenting Mihyaari footmen, in mockery and debasement thereof. Having misheard the shamefaced weeping of the Mihyaari on the frontlines, the Seyami misinterpreted the namesake of the dirges, Ur-Mihyar, as a word of their own persuasion. The Mihyaari settled their palanquins in some dank stretch of saharan sands. And, they sang ballads amongst one another, hollering,

 

i. Everything under the sun is my adversary. One and all. All and sundry.

 

And, as if from the blue beyond, came a braying man in the borrowed robes of Ur-Mihyaar; his feet, like burnished bronze; and marred were the fringes of his beard; his rhinestone eyes were as if factories far away; and, when he spoke, the sound of his words was like the sound of multitude, almost as if the drumming of many peals of thunder at once, and his rhetoric was so sharp that it was like a double-sided sword. He hitched his foal to a vine, and his mare’s colt to another vine — and he spoke unto them. The rock striations and formations had become unwound, and in the dune he tore a gorge within whose rifts ran silver threads, often. This refuge — this port in the storm — was dubbed Baal-Hazor, in honour of the timeworn hamlet in Rh’thor: Baal, meaning Tabernacle, and Hazor denoting, in a rudimentary sense, a hamlet or dwelling.

 

This man bode well, refashioning the splintered pieces of Mihyaar into a hardier litter. Hearsay would tell that this man was Ur-Mihyaar brought from the living-dead: reincarnated, for all intents and purposes. He introduced himself as Shah-Almaz — the Diamond-Vehicle — and was vested the pharaoh thereafter. The oracles of Mihyaar postulated that, in times of strife, the tension in the state would aggravate the old bones and stones of Ur-Mihyaar, thrusting him to pick up the pieces anew.

 

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Spoiler

 

 

 

II - TRADITIONS & RITUALS

 

 

“The ruins Baal-Hazor left

on the mottled rockplains of Seyam

appear and fade like the traces of a tattoo

on the back of a hand.”

— BALLADS AND MINSTRELSY,

MĀT-DARIUS-AKKAD.

1818.

 

COMMON VALUES

 

CAROUSAL AND CELEBRATION

A tonic against the carnage and turbulence of their history, the folk of Baal-Hazor are merrymakers. The temporal, worldly pleasures and means for amusement are coveted — as devices to muddle and take what little power sits in the mutinies and entropy of their history. These people relish in earthly revelry, launching the basest of occasions and happenstances into garish festivities, and find resolve in the chimes and chords of pompous celebration.

Ergo, there is a certain helter-skelter and frenzy to the activities and conventions of the people of Baal-Hazor. Punctuality is not an absolute priority, and outside of their regard. There is always solace in the wildness of leisure — be that, cavendish and tobacco, or ballads and carols.

 

"[Those] who walked the streets of Baal-Hazor are dark and veiled.

Oft as not, they walk in troupes, or lounge in palanquins of ebony and ivory—

hidden behind dim curtains to fend against the elements,

and borne through cities upon the backs of slaves.

How they ring out with the chimes of bondage: clinking shackles and chains."

 

RITUAL DECEPTION

Desperation and beggary has fostered a new tongue which the bannermen of old Mihyaar have adopted as their native jargon: lies and deceit. By reason of their adversity, the Mihyaari of Baal-Hazor relished the base activities of guile and trickery, and debased themselves among one another if the vile act would bring riches and resources. Treachery, fraud, and subterfuge were excused in the pauperdom, in its antiquity, established as pillars of society, by which means they would turn their hovels to halls, and meadows to Moorish forts which cast a colossus shade that would ensheath the hamlet in a twilight only quelled by the lights and wicks of celebration and festivity. It was here that their haphazard games of poker and other fiendish wagers would crescendo into dynasties which inspired reverence and fear in equal gravity.

Mihyaari tall tales would later tell of a swindler whose lies would resound with such cadence that he could lay domain over snakes, serpents, and the likes, launching him into the fruits of strategic stardom.

 

ABLUTION IN ASH

Smut and cinder clings to the skin and rind of all Mihyaari. From the fringes of their fires, which danced throughout the night, they coveted ash and soot: instruments for cleansing. The ashes which foul their faces are mementos of the long-dead, and fire is the great lockbox of things — those sealed away, within which the char of firewood, and the spirits of those rendered lost to life and time, are able to travel between the corners of the world. On the dawn of each arrival, a Mihyaari will relieve the coke and soot of his forebear, and char his features with a mask of smut and fire-sediment — almost talismans to stave off ill-wishes and misfortune.

The Mihyaari have long held stock in this superstition, that it has crossed the threshold from cultural convention to religious covenant. Ash is a tool through which lords are consecrated, and thieves are cut down; through which sinners are chastised, and saints are immortalised. 

 

BRANDS AND SIGNETS

A rite bred from breaking bread with their brothers in Rh’thor, brands and tattoos streak across the frame of a Mihyaari from head to heels. To each seal is its own value, and purpose: be that, a mark of arms, lineage, or accolades. Cultic devotion and amuletic protection had its own hand in body art and the tattoos of the Mihyaari — inspiring forces of fortune and the powers that be to join paths with he or she who has accepted their Rh’thoraen forbearance.

So opposed to the traditional means for tattoo inscription, the Mihyaari exercised branding in a ritual which called for burnt candlenut oil. This solution was ordinarily practised through rending the skin, and saturating the tissue with motifs of all varieties and qualities. Memento Legatum was said of the Rh’thoraens.

It is for this reason that flaying is so lamented, among the likes of old Baal-Hazor’s folk. The rind has been pulled from the pulp: no traces nor mementos.

 

ALL THAT GLITTERS

When entombed in the shade of Baal-Hazor, that mausoleum-world of dark and dusk, only the torches of celebration were devoted to quelling that total lightlessness. And, from the bowels of the earth, the miners of Mihyaar procured diamond teardrops and loaves and wedges of gold, and relished the many beads and baubles, and gemstones and jewels. In that time so premature, when the people of Baal-Hazor had only just discovered the fruits of drunkenness and carousing, the last slivers of light in old Mihyaar were focused through gilded ornaments and curios.

Glassy chains, hooks, and encrusted threads  ensnare the folk of Baal-Hazor: and, vanity was their plight. To those who could afford it, at least.

To this very day, the approach of a Mihyari is, often as not, heralded by the ringing and clinking of glistering baubles and decorations — testaments to their decadence.

 

HOOKS GALORE

The dervishes of old Baal-Hazor developed all manner of interesting designs and sacraments. Their criminal enterprises led them to many a revelation, from which they became privy to the lamentable avenues of flagellation in self-condemnation and decoration. Often will the laymen of Mihyaar embed demented hooks and hewed points into their skin: the bulb suspended at one cleft of their ash-caked face, and the narrow prick of the hook jutting from the next. All fashions of briars and needles crest the clerics of this peninsula, sounding out in pangs of contrition and repentance.

From driving skewers behind the eye, to perforating and piercing the skin beneath the nails, survival is tenuous to those with the gall to engineer and contrive the most terrible, doleful of piercings and modifications. 

 

REINCARNATION

All men, be they rich or poor, return to their mantle in the land beyond death. The Mihyaari, much like other cultures of their time and region, long sought for dominion over death. Inhibition in the face of the Rh’thoraen practice of necromancy, however, would prove to hinder their mastery over eternal, primaeval rest. To warm their spirits and console themselves in their uncertainty, the men of Baal-Hazor spun tall tales of men brought to the world after their passing by the powers-that-be. Relivened, or reincarnated, to fulfil unkept vows and oaths. They put stock in a threefold-cycle, consistent with life, death, and rebirth.

 

Even then, however, undeath and evading death contribute in part to Nemurîtòri, the mantra of conflicting with mortal order — an inherently wrong machination. Thus, living-from-beyond is only on a spiritual level, so as not to vertically oppose the natural, threefold-order.

 

GORHEN’S FOLLY

Derived from the poor soul who served as the first recorded instance of this ailment, it is said that those who wander the vast expanse of sand for too long are struck by fallacy and fantasy, babbling about kingdoms and a mighty noble folk that never were. All manner of healers have proclaimed cures, but their authenticity always varies. What is certain, however, is a certain wariness when trekking the desert they call home, for it may just as soon devour their mind before their body.

 

PRACTICES

 

 

SKINTAKING

It was said by the Mihyaari that with time, all temporal, material things find their ways back to their earliest possessor. That was, without the skin. Being that the signets, and names, and covenants of homes were often borne on a person’s rind by way of tattoos and inscriptions, the skin was made, by designation, a person’s tapestry. Hence, in trial and tribulation, it is a Mihyaari man or woman’s ever-avowed oath to grow their tapestry. Merit and value of skin, for this reason, was particularly especial. On a more sacral level, the belief was held by the Mihyaari that the skin is what binds the soul or spirit to the material world; anchoring he or she to the realm.

 

On the frontlines attended by the Mihyaari, who had his skin was not yet dead. Thus, taking one’s skin — the wicked practice of flaying — was chief among the endeavours of the Ksathriya and Brahmin, the noble and oath-vested warmongers and warriors of Ramasar. It was the only way to ensure one had truly left the world: letting no trace of his or her being known to any soul save empty consciences. This came often at the cost of relative familial history being lost to the annals of time.

 

Traditionally, a Brahman or Ksathriy warrior would strip their foe of their skin and rinse it of impurities, enriching it with jewels in the stead of eyes, etcetera. Certain sources document that the noblest houses would cling to the skin of their viziers or pharaohs, hanging them here and there and about as curtains and draperies, so as to ensure the charms of those kings and governors would not leave the old homes. The practice is, however, for all intents and purposes, the greatest shame and taint to an individual or dynasty.

 

 

BULL-LEAPING

A cultural mainstay and an art in its own right, the ritual sport of bull-leaping was practised in the bulk of Ramasar’s regions and cantons. Much to its attributed name, the activity details an acrobat or Ksathriya and/or Brahmin warrior — male and female — literally vaulting to, over, or from a charging bull. This would often entail grasping or seizing the dual horns of a bull, through whose support the acrobats would somersault or practice all manner of agile, gymnastic feats over the bull. At the moment when the stunt-artist grasped the animal’s horns, the bull rabidly forced or jerked its head upward, providing the acrobat with the necessary momentum.

 

Variations of the sport are practised. Occasionally, the ringleader might release a bull into an assorted group of acrobats, sending it into a rabid frenzy as participants might attempt to bridle the animal and vault over to the other side. Or, the olympian might practice a more streamlined rendition of the sport, wherein they would pole-vault over the bull — the tamer of the sports.

 

The religious and cultural significance of the practice is disputed. In a broader sense, it portrays the Mihyaari people’s hubris and larger-than-life approaches to the harshest climates and most arduous feats. Ritual acrobats have attributed an allegorical meaning to the sport. That, the bull characterises/represents the sun or the elements, filtering the able-bodied from the weak, in the clergy. Similarly, bull-leaping is shared across coming-of-age rites and electing ministers and governors: a means for determining caste and value in society.

 

GREETINGS

When exchanging hellos, it is known good faith to spit at the opposite fellow’s feet. In a land and climate where water is pertinent to survival, offering such to a stranger tightens bonds and entails a generous, amicable kindness that is not often seen elsewhere.

 

BURIAL RITES

Men and women of Mihyaar hold stock in the belief that the dead need not be restricted nor consigned to the earth. Individual rites and practises are unnumbered, of course, but a rotation of means for burial are shared between the covens and families of Mihyaar and Baal-Hazor. The most streamlined and seminal of these services is cremation. Predictably, this practice discloses that the deceased be reduced to ash following a celebration of dimensions proportional to the life and death of the individual, hence merchants and kings are more often sent away in events of greater magnitude and pageantry. Thereafter, he or she is blazed by any convenient means, and resigned to a tub where their remains may be abluted/cleansed with.

 

Tantamount to cremation is mummification. Reserved for gentry and merchants, at least, the service is consistent with decorating the deceased in the most decadent and gaudy of designs, that is, amulets, talismans, and any monetary possessions or curios. The individual is thereafter sepulchred in a sarcophagus which was often made a display of in the deceased’s court, were they a king or landowner of sorts. However, this practice is largely impractical, being that death, as it stood, is believed as impermanent, at a grander scale, and the individual would have little to no use of any talismans or coin consigned to the sarcophagus.

 

Sky burial, the last of the burial services widely accepted, is penultimate to cremation. The observance details the newly deceased being posted or put to rest at a high elevation, often at sand dunes and hillocks. This ritual gives way for birds of prey, vultures, and larks to deliver the cadaver elsewhere, returning the deceased to another life and continuing the wheel of nature.

 

In the end, though, it is important to note that, given the spiritual impermanence of death, funerary practises in Mihyaar hold little to no sacred merit. They are only pleasantries.

 

RAS-VIDA

Ras-Vida is interpreted as a blanket term for any manner of divination or natural medicine. The word is homogeneous to alchemy, however, shared between the practises of tantric prophecy, witchery, and oracle-work.

 

A far-fetch from traditional scientific ‘alchemy’, the Mihyaar partake of spiritual methods in which the main goal is divination, but other considerable outcomes range from anything between healing and foresight. While Ras-Vida revolves around the concept of immortality of the heart and the earth, to attempt the elixir of life is looked down upon, as it is directly conducive to Nemurîtòri. This is because it promotes only immortality of the body, and the spirit is thought to be persistent in the land beyond death. Hence, mastery over the living is not the primary endeavour of Ras-Vida.

 

Ras-Vida is the tantric medicine of cycles and the doctrine of earthen elements. There lie different plants and metals that have an intrinsic connection to the metaphor of alchemy. The symbols, signs, mixtures: they all have meanings beneath their physical uses and processes. To practise alchemy is to practise divination. But beyond that, Ras-Vida remains all-encompassing. There are rituals in which the world is questioned and interpreted to learn more about the past, the future, or the now. One of which is an old practice where a handful of salts is thrown into the air and the fate of said salts is left to the elements, or otherwise cast into fire. Details about the aforementioned things can then be discerned through examining the pattern of the salts.

 

The intricacies of Ras-Vida are ultimately too vast to summarise in some few paragraphs, and the practises date back to long ages. There is much to be discovered.

 

NAMING CONVENTIONS

 

Not dissimilar to the Velians of Atlas, the names of these wizened Yultharans are composed of three individual parts, tethered to one another by hyphens. These names, disambiguated, are dubbed Kaṭanat [singular; Kaṭan]. Designation arrangements vary between castes far and wide, however, evidenced by some patricians’ tendency to affix a second ‘surname’ [e.g. Dzugi, Bihari, Maratha, Badzo] or a pauper’s inclination to eschew their familial designation altogether. Notwithstanding, these labels are, as in any matter, pertinent to the day-to-day activities of a Mihyaari.

 

The order in which these three names appear is typically: familial designation [gentilicum nomen], given name [praenomen], aver nav/talisman name/et. al [cognomen], and, among patrician houses, disambiguation and/or second surname (e.g. Doe-John-Jack [Everyman]).

 

FAMILIAL DESIGNATION; SURNAME

 

Borne by the Mihyaari as keepsakes of the houses and fathers from which they hail, this is the filiation which precedes the personal and/or given name of a Mihyaari individual. Mementos of the forebears of old, great honour is held in these designations – those typically scored upon tomes and scrawled across tablets. As such, these tokens of parentage are prefixed to the personal name, fixed before the given name, typically with a hyphen. Surname designations are spilt from father to son, and are tokens of covenants between bloodlines and dynasties.

 

Sample: Šar–, Ur–, Mât–, Shah–, Kali–, Yr–, Bhat–, Ram–

 

GIVEN DESIGNATION; GIVEN NAME

 

A Mihyaari given name is the name which he/she is, in most conventions, referred to by. It is, in all regards, a personal name fixed between the surname and the aver nav. Where the second designation is seemingly ever in flux, and is able to change on a whim nigh-always, the given name is writ in stone, and is not so often changed without reason. Mihyaari nomenclature calls for the given name to be assigned at birth, lest the child shall assume a bastard designation.

 

Sample: Shaddam–, Belshezzar–, Darius–, Arbaaz–, Vyasa–, Misra–, Shaj–, Kabir–, Raja–

 

AVER NAV; SECOND DESIGNATION

 

Designated through tireless, arduous trials and feats, as opposed to birthright, the aver nav, oft as not, suffixed to the given name,  functions in two distinct ways. Scarcity of names in the ranks of the Mihyaari bred a second means for designation – almost formal nicknames – which took the shape of aver nav. A layman’s take on aver nav nomenclature would liken them simply to informal ‘second’ affiliations: the actuality is more rigorous, and has more layers. Awarded by others, the first variation which an aver nav takes is that of a token of its bearer’s quirk(s) and feat(s) [e.g., club-footed, left-handed]. It was common for these ‘second names’ to be leveraged in other ways, however. Mothers would ascribe to their newborns ‘secretive names,’ or ‘talisman names’ to ward off illness and ill-fortune. In this manner of nomenclature, the second name, aver nav, remains unspoken, and unheard of, bar by the ascribed’s mother and/or father. Take, for instance, a child’s given name, or praenomen, is Jahan, and its aver nav is Sahar. It would often happen that an illness might occur, and vie to have power over the child: hence, they would seek the child out by their name. Lesser wretches and evils — as spirits — are privy to aver nav designations. Given that this aver nav is unuttered, at large, though, the wretch fails to accost the child — leaving him out of harm’s winding way. 

Contrarily, an aver nav is similarly used, on occasions, to distinguish the branch or cadet family from which one hails. Hence, this context is more akin to a disambiguation of one’s parentage, than a lesser name.

 

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Spoiler

 

 

 

III - DISTINCTIONS & ATTRIBUTES

 

 

“Dark were they also, diffusing the odour of musk as they moved,

like the soft gale bringing with it the stench of clove.

 

Here was their abode, on the edge of the sandy shore,

of the salty strait

between Yulthar and Rh’thor.

 

And, amid the acacia-shrubs were their eyes blinded with tears,

by the smart from the bursting pods of colocynth.”

– SONGS OF SHAH-NAMA,

SHAH-NAMA-KALI BHAGAVAT.

1733.

 

MIHYAARI APPEARANCE

 

The sun’s swelter and open sea clime has long laid a brand upon the once tallow-skinned and fair among Yultharans — Mihyaari. A lifetime’s ocean-bound exodus has since made their skin dark: red and russet, and unseasonably tanned. Ascribed to as brown, generally, these people sport a broader range of complexions, however, from the warmer olives to the more ruddy, leathery bronze. Prominent and jutting, the occasional atrophy of their facial profile, and somewhat disproportionate features can be attributed to the task of crossing the boundless False Sea. The Stygian waters have rent and bent the faces of those sullen Mihyaari who dared ferry themselves across Rh’thor’s strait, oftentimes rendered inordinate or asymmetrical: crooked. The grey, amber, and ruddy-brown scale of eye colours is shared between most to all Mihyaari, however colours as vivid as the lighter blues tend to slip between the cracks.

 

Ash clings to the leathery skin of the Mihyaari, made leaden and dusted very tangibly in a gloss of soot, from trials and rites of ablution. Anointed in cinder and lampblack powder, the presence of a Mihyaari is not often without the fleeting stench of asphalt sediment. In a similar vein, most recognisable are the brands and tattoos of candlenut wax and boar’s tallow which they wear, zealous glyphs and signets scrawled across them from head-to-toe. This rite was bred from making amends and sharing accolades with the Rh’thoraens.

 

A people rife with vanity, the Mihyaari are welcomed from place to place by the hooks and piercings which encase them in a sheen of gold and bronze. These suntanned Yultharans take to the wretched rites of making incisions and punctures on the surface of their skin, where baubles and beads are frequently fixed and secured. From tongues to brows, and noses and cartilages, the folk of Baal-Hazor are festooned with many a thread, bond, and pearls. This tradition shares suit with the tendency to wear tattoos and tells.

 

Those from Mihyaar take relish in their garb and vestments, often decked with stranger articles of clothing than is familiar. As is with most facets of their culture, the fashions of the Mihyaari are syncretisms of conventions from the east and west, though belonging to neither. From their forts and homes in Yulthar, were borrowed the eclectic, embroidered textiles and sensibilities, while their lodging in the reaches of the east had taught of more contemporary, rational values of fashion. These radically unfamiliar philosophies were intertwined to breed new ensembles of clothing which paid homage to both: long-fitting garments embellished with fewer motifs than was customary. The Mihyaari showed accolades to their banner-brothers in Rh’thor, by fashioning articles of red attire and finery into their ensembles.

 

Spoiler

In the interest of maintaining thematic symmetry in the post itself, I've attached fashion references pertaining to the culture in the spoiler. Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LEXICON

 

“And now, my tongue’s use

is to me no more than an unstringed viol

or harp.

Or like a cunning instrument,

that knows no touch to tune up the harmony.”

— MIHYAARI BOHEMIAN,

1730.

 

Wrought from many curvilinear, topsy-turvy glyphs and characters, the Mihyaari script of Emē-gir is, by design, dependent on many suffixes and affixes and linguistic intricacies of far too many designs. For this reason, the language is not homogeneous with other eastern tongues and dialects of similar provenance. Between the tongue of the Qali, and that of the Oyashimans and Li-Wen, Emē-gir is not mutually intelligible, proving a strenuous feat for linguists and chroniclers of all persuasions. Archaeologists have long vied — and failed — to decipher the little licks of this script borne on clay tablets, left raving, braying, and puzzled at its convolution.

 

Much to the very name of the region, the tongue’s lexicon has been bastardised en masse. In furtive frustration, the archivists of Baal-Hazor adopted a fluid dialect and accent of common, through which they conversed and broke bread and made pacts of all proportions with the denizens and island-dwellers of Rh’thor. When they became splintered, however, individual strata and subcultures of Mihyaari loaned words from languages and tongues, leaving no single Mihyaari dialect nor accent reciprocally coherent and legible with the next. 

 

Emē-gir has since become consigned to only the archives of time. Its practitioners are far and few between, held in great regard and reverence for their scarcity and perseverance. There is a belief, in fact, that Emē-gir is rather multiple indeterminate languages in one script, than a single lexicon.

 

______________________________________________

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

IV - CIVILISATION & SOCIETY

 

 

“And Ur-Mihyaar’s spirit, raging and raving for retribution,

with Shurad at his flank come hot from high hell,

should that in these confines with a pharaoh’s voice becry:

‘Havoc,’ and let loose the dogs of war, that

this foul task shall smell up on the earth with carrion men,

groaning for burial.”

— CHRONICLE OF UR-MIHYAAR,

SHAH-NAMA-KALI BHAGAVAT,

1741.

 

CASTE SYSTEM

 

Social class is, admittedly, rather fluid in the societies of Mihyaar. There is a tangible rift between the paupers and burghers, the poverty-stricken and the landowners, however caste, as it is, is indeterminate and fluctuant. Incidentally, the class-hierarchy is consistent to merchants

 and moguls, second only to the king, pharaoh, or prince, and followed by — in order — layman and/or priests, and the impoverished. There is no de jure caste system per se, however, partly ascribed to the fact that there is a sort of praise and acclaim for those who work in ritual deceit, artifice, and thievery. The basis of Mihyaari society, in fact, is built upon the rudimentary idea of establishing oneself and taking root in wealth and veneration through the art of sham: duplicity, and deception. A prince-elect might have found resolve in his position through fraud and skullduggery — these happenstances are far ofterner met with acceptance and reverence than reproach.

 

Ordinarily, administration is conducted through a pharaoh, shah, or prince among greater throngs of collective Mihyaari. Liaison councils (e.g., king’s councils) were vested in the early epochs of Ramasar, but the flux in divination has since driven the idea into obscurity and out of the vox populi. Rather, a shah or pharaoh will instate an oracle or haruspex with whom he or she should navigate the waters of policy and diplomacy. These diviners were responsible for statecraft, in the stead of their lieges, and better equate to viziers or proconsuls than immediate councillors. The seat of Shah — or, Maharaja — is occupied by the old and learned tribe of Ur, whose bannermen and brothers trace blood and covenants to the cultural progenitor, Ur-Mihyaar, below whom are individual Rajas, the feudal lords who are mantled control and administration of their own domains and cantons.

 

In summation, caste systems hold little merit, in a society whose sway is provided to those who dabble in swindling and skullduggery primarily.

 

MILITARY

 

KSATHRIYA

A caste in their own right, the Ksathriya (singular; Ksathriy) and less martially-inclined Brahmin (clerics, relative to interpretation [singular; Brahman]) are oath-bound vanguards of old Baal-Hazor. The learned swordsmen metamorphosed from crab-fishers and longshoremen in Mihyaar’s sea-side exodus, making haste to fend the pauperdom from the extraterrestrial fiends in Yulthar-lands, and the horselord marauders who swore by sword and saddle in Ramasar. Historically, however, the ideal Ksathriy or Brahman is more spiritually, fundamentally involved and concerned with the world. They pertain to the principle of preserving and maintaining the unperturbed nature of the world — that is, life, death, and rebirth, and thwarting the pursuers and plotters of Nemurîtòri: primordial, Abyssal imbalance.

 

Likewise in esteem to the samurai of the Oyashiman isle, the Ksathriya and Brahmin are privy to a chief, certain privilege otherwise barred from the paupers of Mihyaar save for certain patricians far and few between. An established Ksathriy is afforded the right to kill without warrant, otherwise reserved for none bar the shah or pharaoh. Having given rise to the threat of mutinies and uprisings in the past, an air of unease follows the gaunt faces of the Ksathriya, bringing with them justice and turbulence in equal capacities. It is worth of note that the honour which was possessing the reputation of a Ksathriy was not a reflection of mastery over a certain martial ability, but rather encompasses a grasp at a range of concepts. These include, but are not limited to, forming bottlenecks or tackling guerilla battle formations, or Vyuhas, fairness of judgement, and tactical awareness. Ksathriya are among the patrician class, formally, and are thereon obligated to adopt a second surname succeeding their aver nav.

 

This reputation comes at the expense of peril, however. The vowed Ksathriya accrue a number of mantle-specific markings, tattoos, and signets, and their skin and rind is sought among the butchers of Ramasar. Hence it is often said, becoming bound by oath as a Ksathriy or Brahman seals one’s fate as predator and prey.

 

 

INSTRUMENTS OF WAR

Even in the blind art of war, Mihyaari footmen and Ksathriya vied to immortalise and distinguish their cultural identity. This was predominately exercised in the armour and accoutrement which the men and women of Mihyaar enjoyed, but liberties were practised similarly in the unpopular weaponcraft.

 

“… mailed, unmailed, e’vry foeman in the charge and rush of war.

Down-smitten with the strings of bows, the locking of mails, the charge!

The armourless, the armoured; the naked and bare, enemies clothed with coats of mail—

All struck down…”

 

Militaristic infrastructure became chief among the pursuits of the radically unpopular Ur-Belshezzar, as all varieties of mail and scale were taken priority by the welders and smiths of Baal-Hazor. Ordinarily, a footman’s varman — that is, his or her entire ensemble of arms and defensive garment — relished a composite armour of deerskin and mail. Renditions of the gambeson, unbeknownst to the Mihyaari, had resolved, albeit fashioned from a coat of leather and pangolin scales. They were traditionally lacquered and gilded to evoke fear in their adversaries. Plate armour and lamellar were less popular, but fixed and connected with wire. Metal or leather gauntlets, or arm guards were typically accoutred around the left arm/hand, so as to avoid any conflict or friction with the bowstring. Most uniquely, however, are the greaves, spurs, anklets, and various garlands which wreathed these mail-clad footmen, hallmarks of the Mihyaari identity.

 

Interestingly, Mihyaari welders fashioned their own adaptations of traditional weaponry from their green pastures in Yulthar. The Oyashiman tachi was crafted by Ksathriy and infantrymen all throughout the numbered trips and diaspora, only made more wicked. And therefrom, the talwar was made, which presented a curvature around the medial half of the sword. The lacquered hilt consisted of a flange which was typically disc-shaped, fixed with a cord or wire. 

 

ARCHITECTURE

 

The pride of Rh’thor and the early descendant realms was the old city of Baal-Hazor and the surrounding feudal townsteads. The entryway was a broad aperture of five-hundred cubits in height and one-hundred cubits in breadth, built and brick-laid with intent that caravans and chariots might pass to and from the cities’ battlements and bastions. Truthfully, however, the gates of Baal-Hazor in Mihyaar were as many as the landward ends of the streets, their fringes decorated with figures of elephants and beasts from stone not longer known to men. Tall tales told that the edifice of Mihyaar and their many homes were from lapis-lazuli, and carbuncle, and other choice materials, but rather they were of glazed bricks and rough-cast. There were likewise tall gardens from which hung fulgent greens, and streams ran from between the desert swathes in the interest of agriculture with a profusion of interconnected bridges. And, fountains from whom were cast scented waters in tall jets.

 

 

At least, that is what was vividly expressed through the frescoes of the city. The roads, in fact, were narrow, far and few between, its edifice and many homes like megalithic blocks of plaster or limestone, with elaborate motifs in the tilework. Complexes were far more prevalent throughout the architecture and stewardship than individual villas, attributed to the minimal effort that needed to be exerted. Articles of architecture from neighbouring cultures were adopted. Vegetal motifs of Kadaksleri architecture, for instance, were most considerable. In fact, Konchak verandas define the vast majority of the invariable architecture of Mihyaar, which is ever in flux. Individual battlements are often joined with minarets, slender spires which make for ease of broadcast and spreading word between people. Meanwhile, homes and stories are often integrated behind traditionally Qali facades and arches, many and various: horseshoe, and lambrequin, and so on.

 

 

______________________________________________

 

Written by Hephaestus @Hephaestus

Written by Kujo @Kujo

Annotations and consultation from Gaius Marius

Consultation from Tibertastic

Moral support from Publius @Olde_Publius

Consultation from MinasOrDie

Co-starring Nozoa

 

(I apologise, forums were faulty and I wasn't able to @ you fellas)

 

Spoiler

The above is a personal culture project spanning several months that I've been tinkering at, on and off. Admittedly, I was hesitant to initially post this, but have worked up the courage to do so after unnumbered revisions. I've attempted to write a culture that is distinctly LOTC. It has been written out of particular yearning for an eastern culture on the server that isn't directly something ordinarily found in real life. Kujo and I have taken our liberties, while attempting to honour some traditions and cultures from real life. We've blended aspects from Sumerian, Indian, Babylonian, Cretan, Minoan, Roman, and even Fremen cultures, and while it is rough around the edges, we're thoroughly satisfied with it.

 

We hope people express interest in it, and I'll be accepting any questions in my DMs. Please let me know or just drop a comment if you're at all interested in playing a Mihyaari and require any pointers. Seriously, any at all. We also have a discord server — it is a tad inactive, but we're hoping you can change that. Cheers!

 

https://discord.gg/fXMrQSX4

 

 

[kujo_ 2510]

A merchant of the sands smiles.

[Cally 1080]

Beautiful, Heph... I'm crying real tears.

[doreebear 605]

This is quite beautifully written. Heph, you've truly outdone yourself! I couldn't be happier! I can see you gave the post a lot of care and detail. way to go champ! :) 

[Benjikhei 698]

This is without a doubt one of the most well-worded and beautifully formatted posts that have ever graced these forums, congratulations on finishing your magnum opus heph. 
 

Invest in $MIY today.

[BoyWonderr 346]

I gotta say, this is beyond impressive, Heph. This has to be the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes upon. I honestly can't wait to see this rped

[KaiserJacobII 1455]

Is this the greatest Hephpost of our century?

[Lasombruh 612]

Hebasedus

[JoanOfArc 4604]

change the color of the text so anton and i can read it. we aren't as young as we used to be... (even if he helped consult) (also looks good so far..)

[colovian fur 8360]

well i know my next character..

 

one of the best things ive read in a while

[TojoTime 387]

Nicely done - should expand the lexicon into a proper conlang.

[Hephaestus 1326]

3 hours ago, TojoTime said:

Nicely done - should expand the lexicon into a proper conlang.

 

if i'm writing a conlag for this, best believe it'll be THICK. not half-assing this. no-siree.

[TojoTime 387]

16 minutes ago, Hephaestus said:

 

if i'm writing a conlag for this, best believe it'll be THICK. not half-assing this. no-siree.

 

5k WORDS MINIMUM

[Melpomenne 2032]

A WOMAN of the SANDS beams the proudest grin.

________

so beautifully written, so proud. u two did such a great job. vv excited

[ronin_champloo 5951]

dude when i understand ur writing, its so beautiful