Description
Braided hair, clumped with dirt and blood, hangs down over this small
savage's painted face -- which is smeared with charcoal. His arms are
wiry and accented in spots where muscles and white scars bulge through
his skin. His eyes are not particularly kind nor angry, instead emanating
a kind of understanding and intensity that is uncommon, except among
scholars. But a scholar he is clearly not -- humanoid teeth line a
dreamcatcher that dangles from his crudely crafted belt.
Role
The Holy Road
Added Fri Feb 3 19:49:32 2006 at level 11:
"There are some things you just don't do."
That is how the Acolyte explained it.
An entire way of life gone, and that was the justification.
The missionaries believed they were doing what was right. They spent several months trying to
reform the stubborn svirfneblin clan, but met only anger and indignance. They were seen as
evil. And they were vilified as their spiritual practice cannibals was reduced to
"cannibalism" and they were eradicated.
It was the well-intentioned missionaries who did to the rogue tribe what centuries couldn't.
But Wakazula survived due partly to luck and partly to cowardice. He watched from
the shadows of the underdark as the bodies of his relatives and friends burned
at one of the cave network's mouths. He listened to the paladins recite prayers, cleansing
the area of a perceived darkness.
They marched back toward a world Wakazula would never have known, and he followed. The
road he followed was paved, and hilly grasses spread out in every direction. The sky
was bigger than he ever would have imagined. The birds -- he didn't hear them. His
thoughts were on his old way of life. On the filthiness and wonder of this new world.
On the strange formation rising on the horizon to meet him.
He stepped through an archway.
"Welcome to Voralian City..."
Feast of Generations
Added Fri Feb 3 19:26:37 2006 at level 11:
Wet fingers. Coppery, salty.
At first, as teeth cut into it, it resists -- it fights, it pushes back.
But then, like its former owner, the heart gives in.
This way, in the tradition of his people, Wakazula becomes stronger.
From the death of his foe comes his life. His enemy's strength becomes his own.
His isolated society warred on occasion with the dwarves and duergar who
tunneled through the Underdark. The dwarves' development forced Wakazula's people to
search elsewhere for food and water. This brought war, and many of the stout folk
served as hearty meals.
The duergar were wicked and foul, and Wakazula's people had warred with them for
centuries. Feasting on a duergar was seen as a privilege and a duty -- it was
righting a wrong done upon the Natural Order, cleansing and returning their flesh
to the earth.
But it was not the dwarves nor the duergar that have ended the Fiktrakatchin
clan's way of life...