RalphGiezer

“ALLAHU AKBAR!” A proud solider of the Caliph would roar, raising his blade to the sky’s with a strong grip.

The atmosphere of the ominous worship room was almost muggy with the stench of dank green and iron; the iron coming from the many rotting heads of mali that have fallen victim to Zhag’s merciless and devout worship to the true deities of the universe. They surrounded him in a circular barrier, lifelessly watching him. Blood would be splattered near the base of a towering totem within the dank room in which he worshipped “Afâr’Ilzgûl, Lûp’Ilzgûl-“ He bellowed in a guttural voice, spilling his own blood into a small urn as he continued to praise incoherently “Afar Angathfark agh Kezt, let et be gruk’d dat juztyze wyll be zuurv’d tu dah albaiz. Zuun, nub zurvyvorz wyll be levt tu blah ov dah albaiz demyze…” His eyes gleamed with hate and grimace, opening his blood shot eyes “Mirdautas vras, az wiff wyll undo Krug’s gratezt myztayk, allow’yn Malin murzy…”

Zhag'Yar sat crisscross in what seemed to be the middle of a worship room. Beads of sweat rolling from his forehead as he meditated; hush whispers and snippets drowning his mind. All voices of concern and franticness. His eyes would open wide, seemingly breathless as he rumbled in a soft groan "Diz am unlii dah begynun…"

((Don't give me that 'cleans blade' gay ****

Nearing Sahar's abode, Gabriel would grope at his forehead as he made way up the steps to her door. His fist would clench violently- the veins of his neck practically throbbing as his thoughts would echo and recache within his cranium. A grunt would escape as he breathed slowly; the echoes of villainous laughter and whip striking would slowly fade with every thump of his heart. He muttered to himself "I'm fine... You're fine..." Soon after collecting his scrambled thoughts, his fist would reach to knock on Sahar's door "You're safe..." ((NOW THIS IS A QUALITY COMMENT ^^^^^ ECKS A DEEEEEEEE))

Zhag would look to the crude drawings with a smirk cracking his stoic visage, followed by a hearty chuckle and a shake of his head as he sat besides an ivory table ”Dah am diz?...” Only silence would follow as he peacefully read the pamphlet with ammused smile...

Hey boiz lets go find some volcano base and **** up some gnarly ghouls ?

The dripping of saliva echoed throughout the massive cavern like stomach of the Duhnah Skhelll. Yar himself sat under a tall palm tree upon the sand which covered the entirety of the stomachs base, followed by several scattered pools of saliva build up. He was meditating, judging by the lack of his response it was almost as if he was sleeping in an upright position. “Ug-” A rather blunt voice would call near Yar’s vicinity. He slowly opened his eyes to meet Zhag’s. He stood some feet in front of him idly, alone- his visage stoic as ever. “Thromka Zhag.” Yar muttered with a simple nod, “It is good to see that you have not forgotten of our blah from last time.” Zhag seated himself rather calmly on the soft sand with a sigh, “I come bearing gifts as well bruddah,” he grunts with a curt smile producing a small urn and a sack of green. Yar scoffed with a smirk, looking to the green all the while Zhag dug the urn into the powdered sugar-like sand. “Quite the gift…” He comments sarcastically “I see you also came alone, Zhag,” he added with a single grunt, tilting his head to the side, “Why is that bruddah?” “This journey and our talks,” Zhag begins with a tiresome drawl, “Are personal- crucial. I insisted on going alone. I’m not one to be so open.” Yar furrowed his brow to this, his mind trailing off before simply commenting “I see.” He watched Zhag pat the green into the urn and lighting it. “I am honored that you have allowed me to redeem myself in your eyes, Yar,” he added blankly with almost a bow, seating himself upon the soft sand with a huff. “You have already brought honor to yourself before you even spoke to me bruddah,” Yar commented as he adjusted himself, “There was no need to prove yourself once more.” Whilst Yar continued on, Zhag would offer him a fairly large book, grunting “I thought I’d bring you a copy.” Yar nodded taking the book with a grunt, “Rulg. Now let us see your thoughts. Who you really are...” As he began to skim through the pages of the book his visage would begin to show relevant concern- grimace as he furrowed his brow. Noticing this, Zhag furrowed his brow as well, his blank stare only turning into a distasteful glare, “Everything alright?...” Yar’s jowls shook along with his head. His eyes quickly skimmed through the pages once more with rather abrupt turns before finally looking to Zhag. The entirety of the creatures stomach would begin to rumble as everything around them would distort and even collapse, “What happened to us, bruddah…” A sharp pain would strike at Zhag’s forehead- his head hung towards the ground fighting the abrupt trauma. Holding a hand to his forehead, two fairly rounded stumps would root out of his head almost like bony growths. He’d roar to the pain while the bowels of the creature would begin to howl as well. Zhag would awaken on his back within the clan hall of the Yar den. He huffed several times as he rubbed at the growths upon his head with a wince. Gaining his wits, he’d look to the ground for a moment- Falum would seem equally confused by his reaction as he sat across from him. “This doesn’t bode well,” Zhag muttered in a breathy tone. (NOTE: These events have happened prior to Zhag'Yar's banishment)

Zhag, along with Elphaba who would be riding a pack mule carrying several pounds of cacti, traversed the vast sands sluggishly thanks to the blistering heat of the lifeless desert. During their travels the duo would encounter a fairly large cactus, a tiresome smile appeared upon Zhag’s expression. He’d approach it with a crude knife at hand; peeling at the thorns, he’d grunt to Elphaba, “Mi nebbur lyk’d dah uld zkah’r perzuunalii… Bub mi ztyll hab mi rezpektz voor ‘im.” Soon after peeling away at a majority of the thorns, he’d wrap his hands around the plants smooth shaft, “Et am hozh daht hee am vlaaht noow. He am ag peeze, he am wit his bruddahz, he am wit U’la…” His voice would grow solum to U’la’s name- his figure would be almost as still as a statue, before finally returning to his labors. “Hee am awey vruum diz Krug voorzaykuun uzg… et am all azh lyk uz kan azk voor…” With one heaving tug of the plant, he’d practically rip the cactus from the earth’s grasp from the root down.

As of recently I've been scouring the forums for any information or lore I can find on Southernos. Though it's culture is spanned into some subcultures which would include small minor tribes and some inactive subcultures, there isn't all that much intel that essentially generalizes- labels their culture and people unlike their lighter skinned farfolk counterparts. Despite the generalization of Southernos under one culture is possibly considered a slight issue (though not as relevant), I feel as if there needs to be some solid lore on Southernos, let alone lore that is available to anyone who wishes to make a character of this race (NOTE: not referring to Mountsidian lore which is a subculture to Southernos). If anyone can respond with any helpful tidbits of old Southernos lore posts or anything related to Southernos (excluding any subrace information) that would be p helpful! I'm only saying this cause I've recently made my second Southernos character and despite going off of regular farfolk lore, I haven't a clue about actual Southernos lore; even though I've heard from some sources that the Southernos are solely based on African culture.

Within the depths of the Yar clan den would Zhag read the flyer which was offered to him by a pigmy goblin who had gotten ahold of one. Irritancy would seem to slowly build up with the loft of his brow. Groaning in a ghastly tone would Zhag crumble the paper- tossing it into the furnace. Soon after would the flames of the furnace roar with vibrancy and rage as Zhag stared down to the embers...

Gabriel would look around to his energized brethren with a quelled smile “Ah, all is coming together so it seems...” Yet his smile would slowly decimate to a soft frown, contemplating to himself “Surely Auda will keep the Kadarsi alive; our culture... And prove Sahar wrong...”

~-=RALLY OF YARS=-~ [!] The great horn of Yar can be heard across the lands, as goblins adorned in bones and pelts hand to each and every uruk scrolls wrapped around bones [!] Whilst the number of Yars within the walls of Krugmar depletes, so does our impact within our ever-developing and powerful community. We begin to lose our influence, our culture, our honour as one of the oldest clans to exist within the uruk community… The Yar clan has been through many rough patches over the years, but it seems as if this is the lowest our clan has been, nearly at the brink of fading into the past as a once-strong clan of traditionalists who believed in the true values of uruks as well as the wise morals of the great uruk Yar. But with great effort and willpower- following in the footsteps of our fallen rex, U’la, and Zhag’Yar, the current chieftain of the clan, we will once again raise Yar from the ashes of defeat. The Yar clan will soon go above and beyond the ranks, until we reach our rightful place in Wargothhood. Not only is this a call of recruitment for uruks and newbloods, who have yet to find their place in Krugmar, this is a call to rally. To those who once represented our great clan many years before, but recently left Krugmar, or have been scarcely seen within our walls due to the changing climate of Krugmar’s traditions and leadership. If those who have once proudly represented our clan wish to show their honour and dedication once more, now would be the time to offer your heart and spirit into our great clan. The Lur clan has also decided to work alongside Yar in hunting events, in hopes of uplifting both clans and to continue practicing Yar’s wise morals and deep culture. “I swear my eternal allegiance to the Yar clan. I swear to live by the clan law, and to walk in the wisdom and honour of Yar. Should I ever betray the clan, I will be cursed to have my blood spilled as this animal. I will die in helplessness and dishonour!” ~Yar clan initiation oath

Zhag'Yar would stare intently at the burnt severed cow head which was originally placed in the Yar den by the SAME Gorkil, but is now in his blarg- next to his hookah. He'd produce a slight scoff "Hmn, Wuelb-" Tossing the head into the bonfire within his house, Zhag'Yar grunted with a perk of his brow "Peepz lyke diz momo zkah'r kan'nub tayk ag inzuult..."

McName: RalphGiezer RpName: Gabriel Muttahir Char age: ??? (Most likely mid 30's) Char Goals: Live the simpleton life and honor his culture through the spread of its influence (most likely burry the hatchet on past issues as well) Disord(if private pm me on forum): You know me boi Rp Race(we are leaning for more farfolk, Qalasheen but we accept all): Southernos Details(about your char): Regular darkie joe with traditional apparel and fragrances (spicy), but his face is essentially really scarred and beat... (Don't bother asking icly anytime soon) Any info you want to give or questions(please refrain from any toxic or trollish questions, thank you): This Caliphate finna last o-o