Cheruscan

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” Cambyses looked about himself, inspecting the inside of the weathered little tent he had just stumbled into. "By Saint Daniel..." he mumbled under his breath, trying to get used to the foul smell and cold air that sifted through some of the slits and tatters in the tent's thin cloth. *This had better be worth it.* He thought to himself as he sat down upon one of the cushions. His attention wandered from levitating candle to candle, and he couldn't help but think that they made for quite the fire hazard. When he did acclimate to the crone's abode, he set his gaze upon her, and spoke. "Thank you very much for having me", a warm smile forming on his face. "It's high time I had my fortune told." A short silence set in. "Ahem, of course. My story." he let out a little awkward cough, and continued: "Well, first and foremost, my name is Cambyses Cöllwitz d'Aumerie. A mouthful, I know. I don't know how well word spreads to... villages like these, but you may have heard the name a little while back." A certain sense of superiority could be discerned in the way Cambyses spoke of the poor old woman's hamlet, a sense that was palpable even to arrogant young lads such as himself. Too proud to apologise, he did his best to rationalise the insulting tone. "Not that there's anything wrong with villages like these, mind you. As a matter of fact, they do have their... charm, do they not?" he let out a curt laugh, adding: "I'm from the Commonwealth, madame. This just happens to be quite different to what I'm used to." "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?" the boy asked, his hand fiddling around in his coat. He unsheathed his pipe, as well as a small tin locket filled with tobacco and a wooden box filled with matches, before the crone could even answer, a small heap of dark leaves had already found their way into the pipe's bowl. "My father..." Cambyses began, lighting the pipe and giving it some small puffs to properly ignite the tobacco, "bankrupted our family a little over five years ago, so there was some gossip here or there." He looked up from the tobacco in his pipe to the old woman, trying to gauge her reaction. "Not to worry, you'll still get your fee." he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Where was I? Oh, yes. You see, we were very comfortable before then. Our family, house Cöllwitz d'Aumerie, had been a respected clan among the Vallagne burgher class. Sine nobilitas, yes, but blood does not make the world go round; money does. And we happened to have plenty of it." "Had. That is." He took a long drag of his pipe, thinking about what to say next. "Now, enough lamenting the past. I've been travelling around, trying to restore my family's good name. Our dreadfully empty coffers are on the verge of running completely dry, so I'm hoping to find work in the capital. My father always said the shining pearl of the Commonwealth provides for her sons, but I just hope she provides me with a means of providing for whatever family I have left." A quick glance at the pipe's bowl revealed that there was hardly any tobacco left, and so the boy's pulls became more conservative and subdued. "I should hope an artisan might take me under his wing as an apprentice. I would jump at the possibility of working in the civil service or bartering for goods as a merchant, but most of all I wish I could study. Reading law and studying the seven liberal arts would be a dream come true, if I'm honest. Alas, I've no scholarship, and certainly no financial means to get in. I dare say we're so penniless that I've no choice but to do whatever labour pays us enough to survive. He sighed, his eyes set upon the miserable pile of ash that lied where there had once been fresh tobacco. "Tell me, madame." he said, shifting his gaze to the woman. "Has fortune forgotten me yet?"

Hezekiáh Ben-Rehav’am ‎ (Kalamite: חִזְקִיָּהוּ בֶּן-רְחַבְעָם) was born to Rahav’am Ben-Akiva(Kmte.: בֶּן-יַעֲקֹב‎ רְחַבְעָם ) and his Pilegesh Merav (מירב) on the vast oriental wastes of the Korvassan desert. His family traveled with a small unnamed tribe ruled by Chieftain Naphtali IX. Hezekiáh's father, Rahav’am, was a retainer in service to this tribal leader, and was given Merav, a Qasheen-Kalamite slave girl, as a gift after his service after heroically leading a raid on an undefended Qasheen village on the Korvassan frontier. Hezekiáh was to be Rahav’am's first-born son, which enraged the man's legitimate wife, Esther (אֶסְתֵּר), so much so that she would shun the infant after its birth, never agreeing to participate in the raising of Hezekiáh, and, more importantly, disputing his legitimacy as the first-born son of her husband. Merav would give her husband four more children, three daughters and a son, before perishing from a staphylococcal infection at the age of twenty-five. Hezekiáh was only eight when his mother departed, and as he buried his mother, he buried a well-kept secret with her: Naphtali had forced himself upon Merav, and had sired a Hezekiáh. Merav never told a soul, and though she planned on telling Hezekiáh once he attained his adulthood at his Bar Mitzvah, she died well before he did, which meant that Hezekiáh never found out about his true father. Rahav’am, however, sensed that the boy was not his own. His paternal instincts had made it so that he felt that his eldest son was different to his siblings. He had thick, messy hair as dark as night, featuring an unmistakable shade of black. Hezekiáh's hair was fine and brown, and his eyes had a clear shade of dark green, which could not be found amongst any of his family. Another trait that Hezekiáh inherited from his biological father was his size and strength. Rahav’am, who stood at about five feet and five inches, was much shorter than Hezekiáh, who grew to be six feet tall. Naphtali's family, as tribal chiefs, had always gotten the most food and luxury items, which lead to the fact that the grew to be stronger and taller than their subjects. Still, growing up in the mountains of Yalach in the middle of the Korvassan desert, food was incredibly scarce, which meant that Naphtali's bastard had to provide for himself and others in his tribe. Hezakiáh's tribe, not wanting to assimilate into one of the larger cultures around them, moved further into the blazing heat of the Korvassan desert, which meant that they essentially lived as nomadic hunters and gatherers, relying mostly on the game they hunted in that massive desolate sandpit. Agriculture was not an option, and so the tribe migrated, traveling from deserted village to deserted village, from dune to dune. Rahav’am was a retainer in Naphtali's service, and, if the tribe was not waging war against another civilization, preferably a landed one that had food and building materials that the tribesmen could steal, he would be scavenging for game in the great wastes. All the chief's bowmen doubled as hunters, and due to their pivotal importance within the tribe's social system, they were expected to teach their sons this craft, so that they could take over if these men were to die. Begrudgingly, Rahav’am, who had always felt as though Hezekiáh was not his own son, taught him how to hunt and use a bow and arrow from horseback, and how to hunt in the Great Wastes. When he turned twelve, Hezekiáh, who was then known as “עין ירוקה” or “green-eye”, after his Ja’beshic trait, fashioned a composite bow, made of Sycamore wood that he cut from an age-old tree near a desert oasis. He would go on to use this hand-made bow regularly, preferring to keep it on him at all times, only storing it away for religious customs and holidays. By now, Rahav’am's legitimate wife, whom was thought to be infertile and incapable of delivering children, had birthed three sons, whose eldest, David (דָּוִד‎), actively sought to inherit Rahav’am's possessions if he came to die, which put a serious emotional strain on Hezekiáh, who was still seen as the legitimate succesor and eldest child. It was on his thirteenth birthday that Hezekiáh celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, the day upon which he became a legal adult. Esther, noticing that her husband was starting to age, and that it could not be long before he would die, confronted Rahav'am, demanding of him to disinherit Merav's “bastard children”. Rahav’am, who was getting older and older, was indecisive at first, and eventually decided not to commit to such an act. He was a traditionalist, having read the Temesh to all his children, and knew that it would be wrong to to disinherit Merav's children, as it would be at odds with scripture regarding Polygamy. Having no other options, Esther doubled down, and coerced a number of tribesmen into attacking Hezekiáh and his siblings. His three sisters and brother were killed, being too weak and young to defend themselves, but Hezekiáh could flee, taking only what little personal possessions he had, and escaping on the back of his horse. Not wanting to be cheated out of everything his guardian would leave behind, he took his father's Khopesh with him, a weapon that was passed down from generation to generation, having been forged in the plains of old Korvassa before the Great Diaspora. Having left everything behind on the day the boy reached maturity, he adopted a new name, to safeguard his identity, and make sure that he could never again be found or attacked by Esther's thugs. A month after he had left his home, he started working for a Qalasheen mercenary company, and adopted the Kalamite name of Yis’akhár (שָּׂשכָר), meaning “man of hire”, to signify his occupation as a sellsword. He adopted the epithet Ish-Har’Yalach, meaning “Of the Yalachi Mountains”. This was mostly an emotional decision, as Yis’akhár did not want to bear his father's name, whom he felt was too weak to defend his own children. He would go on to serve and fight with the mercenaries for more than nine years, where he would engage in behaviour that could be interpreted as breaking the Six Commandments. Yis’akhár is fiercely religious, sticking to the faith of his ancestors and praying to Bahyweh every day. Yet, he never felt that he killed or harmer others “in vain” or “out of greed”. Bahyweh, as the all-powerful god, had set him on this path, and Yis’akhár justified his bloodshed by saying that this was the only way he could survive, that this was how he provided for himself. After having been sailed out to Seyam for a contract, Yis’akhár deserted his company, after a dispute regarding prayer and ethnicity alienated him from his brothers-in-arms, and put him at odds with the company's captain. He now travels around, much like he did in the Great Wastes ten years ago, trying to find work and sustaining himself on whatever food he can hunt, find or steal. Physical Description: Given the tribe's inability to engage in agriculture, Yis’akhár has always had a paleolithic diet, defined by its reliance on plant-based foods, as well as meat and fish. This means that he consumed more protein and vitamins than those with diets based on products from agricultural yields, such as porridge or bread. This, naturally, lead to the development of greater resilience and muscle growth. Seeing that most Kalamites are relatively small people, the six-feet tall Yis’akhár is relatively big when compared to other people of his race, though this diminishes when compared to the peoples of Arcas. He weighs about 140 pounds, and could best be described as “thin” or “lean”, never having had an abundance of food in the barren wasteland that he grew up in. The Kalamite has dark green eyes, which is regarded as special in Kalamite culture, as well as dark brown hair. He has a scar running across his left cheek, courtesy of a Qalasheen warrior that he killed at the age of seventeen. The scar is hardly visible, though it can be made out when one pays greater attention to it. Yis’akhár has a thick slab of a nose, laying upon his beard's moustache much like a crown would. In accordance with traditional Kalamite styles, Yis’akhár shaved his head, partially because it made it easier to wear his temet. Though he dislikes changing his religion's customs and traditions, he has padded his temet, so that he could wear it in battle. Regardless of how impractical it appears to be, he swears by it, believing that it makes him seem taller. His Hajmesh, a traditional half-cloak made of different colours, was stitched by one of the eldest women in his tribe, and features the colours beige, cyan and blue, the latter being closely tied to Reshism, the Kalamite religion. Yis’akhár wears a harness of coat and plates, protecting him from most blows. His ishte, which he wears beneath his armour and coat, is quite thin, having been made to stand the blistering heat of the Korvassan desert. It features no gems or jewelry, as the Tribe of Horam did not have access to mining or currency. His mytaw are made of hareskin and leather, and were made without any special ornaments or designs. Personality Traits: Strengths / Positives: - Steadfast Being born into a conservative household, Yis’akhár was never taught to be sceptical, or to question whatever his guardians told him. Dissidence was punished, and thus he started to understand that it was better not to fall out of line, lest you wanted any trouble. His obedience led to a decisive and conclusive way of decision-making, in which Yis’akhár does not meddle with his personal morality, sticking to general ethics or religious beliefs instead, justifying his actions through the lenses of either of those sources. Aside from aiding in making quick, independent decisions, his steadfastness and ability to carry out orders without question was highly regarded by his superiors when he still served in his old mercenary company. Granted, he did desert that company recently, but only did so because of the greater good, that being his culture and demand to engage in whatever religious rites the Rheshist faith supports. - Strong Growing up in the hottest of desert, the “Children of the Korvassa”, as they are locally known, are a hardy group of Kalamites, famed locally for their strength in battle and resilience against the unforgiving terrain. Yis’akhár is a fairly large, tall person, and though he's quite lean, his diet and daily work make it so that he is seen as of above average strength for the common man. Weaknesses / Flaws / Negatives : - Incompassionate Given the fact that Yis’akhár was betrayed by his own people, and spent a large part of his life engaging in military activities that could be described as brutal and inhumane, the Kalamite is not used to being appreciated or loved, and thus does not return the favour. Due to his incompassionate behaviour and paranoid mindset, he's quick to block new people out of his life, something that might end up causing him far more detriment than he would expect. - Paranoia After having nearly been assassinated, it was increasingly difficult for Yis’akhár to imagine a world where people were not after him. Despite the fact that his community would not have the resources to chase him around, he still feels that he is being followed by the agents of Esther and David, and continually fears for his life, putting him in a state of constant emergency that's known to drain his energy and youth. - Mentally unstable The combination of his anti-social behaviour and paranoia lead to the fact that Yis’akhár only found solace in his religion and culture, something that, for a man of his condition, culd be considered fatal and incredibly mentally straining. The years of service on the frontlines were not good on his sanity either, and Yis’akhár often finds himself waking at night, having slept of those gruesome sights he himself helped cause when he still fought for coin. - Baseness Despite swearing by the legality and righteousness of the Temesh, this Kalamite's condition is quite base, justifying his own actions by manipulating the ancient words of the Texts instead of using the Temesh as a foundation for his behaviour. Though his unethical behaviour can only be observed from a third-person perspective, he himself has not understood what he is doing, nor does he understand the gravity, as he has fully immersed himself in his own personal beliefs, and currently lives within his own figurative bubble, where he approves of his own deeds, however unscrupulous it might be. Metagaming definition: Metagaming occurs when players utilize information that was obtained out-of-character to advance their character's position in-character, give their character knowledge that they otherwise would not have gotten, or use this OOC information to influence in-character events or actions. Powergaming definition: Powergaming occurs when players attempt to engage in unrealistic, unfair or godly actions. This is usually characterized by players having their characters go through superhuman activities, such as superhuman strength or athletic capability.