Ibn Khaldun

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 He knew his hand would not be visible where he placed it, but he placed it anyway. Within his ethereal placement of the Seven Skies, Cunimund watched through the limestone portal. peeking between the engraved letters of his name to Ogmios. His hand could not break through the barrier between his resting place and the cold air of the Langkettes that permeated through the humble barony. Ogmios in his warpaint contrasted against the dark tones of the earthen-dun wall that ringed Bodbwodz in the background. "Rally our folk by the carnyx, play its dirge in battle and at moments where man's soul quivers before uncertainty. Dash against dark foe until the Cingedoz banner is memorized by all who are rallied by your daring. Pay heed not to cast your doubt against any who wish to adopt our traditions, not all sea-faring vessels are build in our shape." Cunimund knew not if his advice would be heard or be inspiration in the mind of Ogmios.

You did an incredible job and deserve your flowers @Petsch2k. I hope for your success in your real life pursuits!

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 The shadows cast upon the lengths of tipi hides moved as their masters did; the Kwee' & their guests encircled a great mass of charring logs collapsing into itself under the lashings of flame as they conversed. Yr-Solheim and Moiseyu sat next to each other; Maȟpíya reclined with a pipe, the pipe being filled with cactus green by a Wonk that teetered on its soles further from the fire than the others. Zahra al-Hamra, a Qalasheen resident with the Kwee, sat separately with a man whose pale complexion contrasted his onyx-black hair. "Maȟpíya, Hinhanni, Tadeusz of the Kos has come to us with a request," Zahra stated, introducing the stranger as she stood. Tadeusz followed suit. "Slava and dziekuju forr your hospitality. Ja come with the results of our Narada, our folk-gathering, and we have decided to migrate south from Minitz and hoped your people and ours might co-exist for a time. The Kos clan are the last remnant of Highlander Vistulia of the old continent. Due to the war, though it may come to a close, we feel safer gathering our folk away from the mainland where the great kingdoms and plague have both waged their wars," Tadeusz described. "Well met Tadeusz of the Kos. I am no great-chief by any stretch of the imagination, but I do imagine we can certainly welcome your clan with open arms and share the mesas together. All we would want is that, just as we will defend you from hostility, aid in our defense just so. Other than that, regarding your faith, your language, your rule over your kith & kin; the Kwee'Hayastaani want nothing to do with governing others," Maȟpíya affirmed. Tadeusz clasped his hands together and sat back down with Zahra. The Kwee' gathered around the fire nodded in affirmation to Maȟpíya's declaration. Zahra opened a glass jar of Orkish Guzzoline and passed it around. By the time it had reached Maȟpíya, those who drank before him laid in a stupor or looked unchanged. He dared himself to take a swill. Much like an owl, he turned his head away from the gathering and spat out what he tried to ingest. From beneath his tunic, a half-whittled thick branch of desert juniper tumbled out. The katchsina, modeled after a chimeric mix between an eagle and a totemic man, caught Yr-Solheim's eye. "You did not tell us you looked to carve katchsina [¹]. Are you learned in the ways of jaadoo [²]?" Yr-Solheim asked. With a hacking cough forcing the last of the Orkish liquor from his mouth, Maȟpíya barely managed a shake of the head. "Come then Maȟpíya, I shall teach you!"

Lair PRO MC Name: IbnKhaldun8 Lair PRO Character Name: Maȟpíya Farisbarii Lair Name: Awlad hil'Burooj (Children of the Towers) Primary Lair Color: Orange Lair Members: IbnKhaldun8, eampregnant, PlushMouse, DarthPurgillus, Grzeq, Matzavas, Dogler, Wasteland_Shaman, MCVDK, Gimble3ooo Proposed Lair Locations (Highlight/draw at least three on the map): The red is our preference, context will be given to the why below. Lair Lore (supply link to an existing creature or other lore if being used as basis for this lair) (1000 words minimum): Lair Build and Infrastructure (photos required, give dimensions): Why can this group not fulfill their roleplay niche in an existing settlement or nation? (Give a detailed answer and examples of how this has not worked in the past.): This lair came out of earlier conversations regarding the prospect of nomadic roleplay which, due the systemic implementation of nation/settlements, is not feasible to have done under existing nations/settlements. To be completely transparent, I threw up a temp region (the red circle on the map) for players interested in the prospect of nomadic RP so we could pitch tents and play in the now while waiting for the administrative process of lair granting. The Kwee' are an active iteration of Farfolk diasporic roleplay similar to the Qalasheen (currently RPing in a camp outside Hyspia) and we are hoping this lair process will allow for some migration across the desert in LotC. Kwee tradition also is incredibly permissive towards all forms of magic & religions including necromancy, shamanism, etc. Even despite this being a "nation OOC" no-no, those who know me know that I cultivate cultures that push against the grain of OOC zeitgeists. How does this lair add to the greater world around it? How will its existence benefit its roleplay group and the server at-large?: This lair, known in RP as the Kwee' Camp or Kwee' Mesa, has already been incredibly active with Kwee' visiting neighbors to the southern desert including the Qalasheen, Hyspians, & Orcs. The Kwee' are also hosting smaller tribes who are looking for a peaceful place to gather their strength including the Kos (Vistulian tribe) led by Darthpiesel and his band of Polish RPers. The Kwee', in RP, have repeatedly offered their location as a sanctuary for mediation and for conflict resolution among peoples in the southern parts of Aevos. Similar to the Cingedoz culture which I brought onto LotC last year, the Kwee'Hayastaani is intended to be a rich culture from which players can enjoy incredible fiction opportunities such as the Kwee' being non-antagonistic to most magicks (example is a shaman shrine potentially being placed at Kwee camp), freedom from "nation churn" dynamics through a very relaxed atmosphere among the players, and most importantly - the Kwee' culture and language are actually a "child" of other player-developed languages including Qali, Hyspian, and Mihyaari.

El Dorada seemed more exuberant than usual, Maȟpíya observed. He learned from conversations of Hyspia's participation and resulting victory. He sent a letter to Cesar II that read: "Congratulations Malik hil'Hyspiya @Wavey and to the victors part of your Mamlakaan. As I remember from the Hyspian language, you have earned el triunfo and pray for your people's continued success, safekeeping, and well-being."

MARTIAL LIFE OF THE KWEE' The Kwee'Hayastaani are inclined to peace and their temperament is that of quiet calm, diplomatic mediation, and restful self-restraint. This does not translate as the Kwee' being complete pacifists nor does it mean they are incapable of holding their own in combat. From youth, the Kwee' are brought up to learn archery, hand-to-hand combat, and the ability to swim; one as their means to hunt, the second as a means of self-defense, and the last as a means of survival. As a matter of cultural enforcement, of tradition, & practicality; the Kwee' do not respond with force save for three matters: They who lay hands or arms against the Kwee or their promised allies shall have the same done to them. They who assail anyone under the gaze of the Buffalo Totem shall be assailed. One whose stated purpose is negotiation will be protected through the duration of their negotiation. All other forms of affront like cultural faux pas, intentional belittlement, and purposeful offense-making doesn't necessitate violence to the Kwee. Some who visit the Kwee will find the Kwee's rambunctious, wry, and chiding form of banter and conversation odd and such banter will be employed against those who come to sully the Kwee' name. Pride is taken in the ability to maintain physical fitness and sharp-shooting. To those two ends, it is not uncommon to find Kwee' challenge one another to wrestling, to light & non-lethal combat of arms, and especially in horse archery competitions. Horse archery competitions where an imaginary (or sometimes delineated by simple spun yarn) line between two mesas are determined with a referee for each horse archer; the horse archers are allowed freedom to gallop and shoot and the game is won when one arrow strikes either rider or horse. In terms of military tradition specifically, the Kwee' happily serve as light infantry, light cavalry, or skirmishing cavalry. Daring men and women will offer themselves up in one-on-one duels as means to end conflict without mass casualty. The tribe, being small, makes no pretension of being able to amass unwieldy blocks of heavy troops. If one of the three matters aforementioned are affronted, it is common for the Kwee' to call a warpath and nominate a Mukhiya hil'Harb [trans: Chieftain of War]. The nominated chieftain is free to command Kwee' in matters of conflict until the conflict is ended; either with the submission (or surrender) of the enemy or a treaty under the gaze of the Buffalo Totem. Warpaths are not called for the purpose of conquering, but merely for the purpose of dissolving conflict against the Kwee' or in their vicinity. It is a matter of pride for the Kwee' to offer their camp as a place of sanctuary for two conflicting parties to meet and negotiate their peace. The Kwee' take seriously the desire of being able to mediate between two conflicting parties and will protect both from third-party assaults.

Under the gaze of the Gya'anga hil'Adhbab (the Totem of the Bison) at their camp atop the mesa, Maȟpíya draws juniper branches between his kinsmen and women of the Kwee'Hayastaani to decide on a date in the coming weeks to ride for Orcgrimmor for the shared feast between the Kwee' & the Hurkaan (Orks).

MC Name: IbnKhaldun8 Discord: IbnKhaldun8 Image: Description of Image: Emblem of the Kwee'Hayastaani Dimensions: 1 wide, 1 high PS: I've done this before where I had 2 images uploaded and picked which one looked best in Map Art. If that is still possible, can I get this uploaded to see which one looks better?

MC Name: IbnKhaldun8 Discord: IbnKhaldun8 Image: Description of Image: Emblem of the Kwee'Hayastaani Dimensions: 1 wide, 1 high

KWEE' NAMES *Please note this list of names is not exhaustive and will be amended with additional ones in the future! Thítȟuŋwaŋ ♂ Plains-Dweller Shandiin ♀ Mirthful One Pahihwikwasu ♂ Iron Jacket Nizhoni ♀ Plains Beauty Hidatsa ♂ Mound-Keeper Shidezhi ♀ Fiery One Tomȯsévėséhe ♂ Horned One Elu ♀ Graceful Moiseyu ♂ Flint-Bearer Tsiishch’ili ♀ Curly-Haired One Heyókȟa ♂ Dreamer Aiyana ♀ Flower Padani ♂ Striker Hozshona ♀ (She) is pretty Akecheta ♂ Warrior Ehawee ♀ Laughing Maid Dakotah ♂ Ally Wichahpi ♀ Winking Star Wahkan ♂ Prideful One Ptaysanwee ♀ Healthy Bison Galeska ♂ Spotted Tail Dowanhowee ♀ Singing Maid

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 Adhbabarii [¹], Aatmahurk [²]. These names befitted the few Orcs Maȟpíya befriended on his previous visits to Orcgrimmor. The one for the Orc who lauded his skill in taming wild beasts, the other for the Orc whose shamanic demeanor was spirited. The two helped him navigate the great oasis and the Orkish villages that sprang from the sands like junipers whose roads, like branches, darted erratically from the main root which was their capitol. This visit to Orcgrimmor achieved for Maȟpíya his singular goal: to meet the mighty Hurkaan'Rex [³]. Grommash, which he laconically introduced himself as he bade Maȟpíya to speak plain Common, looked every bit of what Maȟpíya could expect from a martial race. Grommash's face looked as mottled and as firm as hardened leather; his battle scars seemed like mere scratches of the fingernails on unyielding shale. What hair he had remained unkempt and his tusks looked like sun baked bone. "My name is Maȟpíya of the Kwee'Hayastaani, we have newly just arrived here to Aevos, having landed upon the shores of the expansive sands," Maȟpíya began, "Our tribe is yet young, a mere handful and no mighty host to arrogantly pretend ourselves your equal. I am sent to build good relations with the Orkish. We currently camp atop one of the many mesas in the deep desert." "It seems in days of Grommash, many seek life in the hardlands of sand and sunfire," Grommash mused with a frown. "Odd it may be, but fortunate are we that we've grown accustomed to being unfenced by stone wall or tall mountain," Maȟpíya wiped three fingers across his red-toned forehead. "Grommash has offered much thought to newcomers who seek water from the oasis of the Urukhim. Earlier representatives of the Qalasheen of Hyspia came to speak to Grommash about sharing meat and drink. Methinks for those who wish to share the sand and the oasis, then they must share meat and drink with the Urukhim as sign of respect." Maȟpíya blinked away his surprise quickly. He and the Hurkaan'Rex confirmed what Grommash meant; the Orcs wanted nothing but a feast, not to employ or enslave the Kwee' nor tribute. The Hyspians would have me believe that Grommash was to demand hefty tribute, yet his own tongue does not incline to such a thing. Maȟpíya's face softened with profuse thanks pouring from his mouth. "Consider the prospect of a feast confirmed. I will let my few know and will arrange for us to bring plentiful food from our hunters. I do want to ask, is there any disagreement from the Orks of us camping atop one of the mesas? We've only pitched one tent and a few totems since arriving, not wanting to raise more until we make peace with the Orks." Grommash waved away the question, affirming that the Kwee' are fine to camp there. The Hurkaan'Rex added, "Grommash will instruct his warriors that the mesa tribe is not to be raided and is to be allowed to move and hunt freely in the sands." "I will let my tribe know that the Orcs are ever-welcome under our tents and under the gaze of our totems. We will be honored to klomp alongside the Orcs if bandit or brigand dares to try their steel against them," Maȟpíya swore.

Yessir

****. Yes.

Tired of nation churn? Want a relaxing place to rest your feet? Do you love the fiction-writing aspect of LotC? Want a creative outlet? And most importantly. . . do you dream of Thunder Bluff? Hinhanni! Tanyan Yahipi! Whether it be your main character or an alt character, all are welcome to come and dabble in the new culture of the Kwee'Hayastaani. Currently encamped atop a mesa in the Aevosian desert where we've raised totems & pitched tents, our small group endeavors to enjoy the game for what it is and its greatest potential. You don't need to pay taxes, don't need to be chained to the grinder's machine; you just need to have a lighthearted, adventurous take to LotC and roll with the punches. Also, you must dream of Thunder Bluff [¹]. Culture Lore Discord Narrative Post

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 Passing through the sandstone maw, he found vines and fronds beneath the hooves of his horse rather than cacti needles and juniper bark. The canyon pass cradled a lush jungle, protecting it from the sands that churned on the other side. Maȟpíya marveled at the green where it went and the machines that stood unattended, one shaped like a goblin but whose eyes glinted like well-oiled gears. He led his horse onward, spying a great gate whose closed portcullis bars and crenelations formed great barbs that conveyed reptilian inspiration. Hung along the walls leading to the gated passageway were not beheaded warnings on spikes, but rather colorful ritual masks of varying sizes that stared lidless and whose carved facial impressions conveyed might, happiness, and some even bantered with you when you looked upon them. Three Orcs loitered the gateway, one banging meaninglessly upon the wrought iron bars. They found Maȟpíya just as he noticed them and took an interest. Of the three, one boldly approached him atop his horse and began to stroke the stallion's mane. "Long ago. . . somevhere bevore my mind vhas stricken, mi clan bred dese," the bold Orc claimed. "Hinhanni good Hurk, I'd assume what your clan bred were mighty to befit the stature of your kind and carry you. My tribe, we breed for speed so we can make haste in the desert which we call home. My name is Maȟpíya," Maȟpíya replied, resting serenely as the Orc playfully rubbed his horse's nose. "I vould gib lat mi name, ib I had one," "If you've no given name, what are you most skilled at? I can give you a name based on that!" "Dey call me Spiritkin, dis vhas da title besto'd upon me long ago. Oder den dat, mi do nub know." "Aatma is the word for spirit in my tribe's tongue, I can call you Aatmahurk - Spirit Orc!" Aatmahurk withdrew, his eyes widening as he muttered the name under his breath. While Aatmahurk committed the new name to memory to himself, one of the other Orcs peeled away from the still-closed gate and greeted Maȟpíya. "Ug! Latz may hab da wait awhile, none to open dey gate." "That is no problem, do you happen to know the Hurkaan'Rex?" The orc nodded. "Can I ask a favor then, I will give a gift in return," Maȟpíya slipped a bottle of spiced mead from his saddlebag, holding it out, "If you meet the Rex of the Hurkaan soon, can you let him know that Maȟpíya of the Kwee'Hayastaani wishes to meet him that I might try and build good relations between my few and your mighty people?" The Orc accepted the bottle, peering into the glassy vessel with an easy uncorking. The two had a deal. With that, Maȟpíya led his horse to double back to the trail he took to enter the land of the Hurkaan.