wwmcglamery

Descension [CLOSED]

Sunlight pushed its way through the thick, blue glass and gently nudged Grozav awake. He rose slowly and stretched.

He was immediately ill at ease...his throat was sore. Grozav was a special case in that his powers of foresight usually manifested themselves physically rather than mentally. For instance, when it was about to rain, instead of simply having a dream about rain, his knees would ache, or when he was expecting a visitor, his nose itched. But today his throat was sore, and that meant bad news was on the way.

Grozav quickly put on his yellow, silk council robes and headed to the council chamber. Grozav was the only member of the council in the city at present but the chamber still functioned as his primary work space.

The other members of the council were not here because they were out leading their respective clans.

You see, when the island of Teren de Tijan had been pulled from the ocean as a refuge for the Tijan, the council had been formed. Each clan would send a representative to sit on the council, usually a close friend or family member of the chief, if not the chiefs themselves. However, when the council was formed, it was decided that a fifth member must be appointed, to avoid ties, and also to assure that the city was never without a leader. The Tijan were reluctant to give up their nomadic lifestyle in favor of living in a giant, glass palace on a tiny island. But in the end it was decided that a member of the Divinatie would be the best choice. With their ability to both see the future, and sense the thoughts and feelings of others, they were the clear choice to lead. So a male was chosen from their ranks and he remained in the city.

Grozav was descended from that very man. His family had held Teren de Tijan for 500 years and were well respected for it.

Grozav didn’t mind his position. He loved the city and was proud to do his part for his people. On the odd occasion that he did feel a pull to his nomadic roots, he peered into basin of water and used his powers to take glimpses into the lives of his people.

He watched as men tended their flocks, as women watched after the children, and as they all traveled the continent as they had done for thousands of years.

As he approached the door to the council chamber, two guards opened them wide for Grozav to pass. He sat in his seat at the large, round wooden table in the center of the room.

There he waited as attendants came in and out of the room placing food and drink before him. Once they had dispersed, Grozav began his breakfast.

Laid before him were three strips of thoroughly cooked bacon, a piece of bread, and a glass of water.

He drank the water first, in hopes that it would sooth his throat, unfortunately it did not. Which only confirmed his belief that terrible news was coming for him. He tried to be at peace with this. The first lesson that all those blessed with foresight must learn is: the future will do as must, you are just lucky enough to have some advance warning.

He finished,the table was cleared, and he sat in silence for some time before an attendant came to him with a message from the chief of the Divinatie, Viitor.

While stopping to make camp for the night they had been attacked. A female had been killed, but they had managed to escape to a friendly city. It was Viitor’s advice that the area in which his people had been attacked be restricted from any of the clans.

Grozav was conflicted. The Tijan were barred from very few places. He did not take this lightly.

He handed the message back to the attendant.

“Summon the council.”

Descension [CLOSED]

Viitor continued to push his armasar, though the animal was barely able to remain standing on its own, let alone with a grown male on his back. But the clan was only a single mile out from the gates of the city. They had walked nearly half the length of the continent in an effort to escape the militia at their last encampment. Viitor had not wanted to stop in that region at all but his clan had marched past their limits and needed rest. They had planned to stay only long enough to eat and get a few hours of sleep then continue, because Viitor had known that the area was not friendly to magic users. In the middle of the night the local militia had come to investigate the smoke from their fires and gave the clan of 1500 members one hour to pack and get over the province's border before they began to take prisoners. The clan had hurried but did not manage to cross the border before five of their members were taken. A wife of one of the males had charged the soldiers in an attempt to save her husband and had been greeted with an arrow through her right eye. Most of the clan had screamed and retreated but Viitor, in a rage, had turned his armasar, Caine, around and charged toward the soldiers. Several arrows flew past him and a swordsman rode towards him on his horse, but Viitor only had to thrust out his hand and the swordsman fell off of his horse, fast asleep. The other three men had been archers, on foot. Viitor directed Caine towards the man who had shot the female and Caine penned the man to the ground. The other men had run away at the sight of the giant hound. Viitor slipped down from Caine's back and bent down to look at the man. As he removed the man's helmet he saw that the man was paying him no attention, for he was completely focused on Caine's bared teeth. Viitor placed his long, green thumb and forefinger on the man's forehead and temple and closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids he saw visions of a woman stirring a pot, smiling at him, the same woman kissing him passionately as he left home, then he saw a little boy with a small, toy bow and arrow acting like his father. Viitor took these visions and manipulated them. The woman was now covered in bloody, painful pox, she lay in bed dying of a fever. The boy was starving in an orphanage, bruised from being beaten. Viitor opened his eyes and looked down at the horrified, miserable face of the man as tears ran down the sides of his face. "Now you see.", Viitor said to the man. "You have stolen a mother away from her child, and attempted to take his father as well. You see the pain that it brings to watch the one you love die. You see the suffering of an orphan child." The man was now looking at Viitor through his tears, no longer caring what Caine could do to him. "I hope that from this point on, when you raise your bow, you think on these visions." Viitor raised his hand and the man fell into a fitful sleep. Viitor mounted Caine once more and led his people across the border before the reinforcements, that he knew would be coming, arrived. Three days later, with very little food or water, and no sleep, they now approached a safe haven. Viitor was sad that he had needed to use his power in that way. He felt that it was a senseless act that would only intensify the man's fear of the magical arts. But, as he rode through the gates of the friendly city, Viitor felt relieved knowing that his clan would be safe. His relief was tainted, however, with the knowledge that he had only been able to protect most of his clan.

Descension [CLOSED]

Nation: Teren de Tijan

Race: Tijan

Race Description: *the descriptions below are based on the average for the population*
Height: 3' 5" - 5'
Weight: 80 - 110 lb. (very slim)
Skin color: Light grey and light green.
Eye color: Entirety of the eyeball is silver.
Clothing: Tunics, dresses, and robes made mostly from sheep skin.
Hair: Black - Charcoal
life span: 85- 95 years

Culture: There are 4 clans that make up the population. The clans are seperate but all work towards the
same goals and the betterment of the nation as a whole. The Tigan are nomadic but do hold land on an island called Teren de Tijan.
Though all of the Tijan practice the magic in some degree each of the 4 tribes specialize and are known for a certain brand.
1. Natura - nature
2. Divinatie - divination
3. Cicatrizare - healing
4. Vechi - arcane
The Tijan worship a deity known as The Giver, who they believe blesses the earth with all good things. Any evil or unfortunate circumstances, they believe, are
due to the absense or inacticity on The Giver's part because he is incapable of negativity.
The Tijan are a largly peacful race but will defend themselves if need be. The Tijan have been nicknamed "little gypsys" for their small stature, and similarities to the
race of traveling magicians. They are open to trade with any society that they come upon in their travels and often sell their services in magic to citizens of other nations.
In the distant past the Tijan have been known to aid the governments of forign nations in times of great peril. Clans travel with herds of sheep, and ride
on giant hounds known as Armasar. Clansmen sell raw wool, as well as thread that they spin. Inthe city of Teren de Tijan, it was soon found to be impractical to keep sheep. So the permenant citizens of the city began to keep silk worms. The citizens now make the material in mass quantities and i is a chief export.

Geography: The island of Teren de Tijan is dominated by moutains and thin forest. The only city on Teren de Tijan is located in a large valley, surrounded
by mountains. To access the city one must either climb and make their wway over the mountains or find a small network of caves running through them.

Population:
Natura- 25,000
Divinatie- 1,500
Cicatrizare- 15,000
Vechi- 200
Teren de Tijan- 45,000
Total- 86,700

Capital: The city that rests in Teren de Tijan is made of many small, stone buildings. In the center is dominated by the palace which is shaped like a vertically
elongated egg. It is made of colored glass, which is held together by a frame of pure silver. Though each clan is headed by a chief, the palace is occupied by
the Council, which is made up of a representative of each clan plus a single permenant resident of the city. \

National History: Since the civilization began the Tijan have been a nomadic race and were exclusivly so until 500 years ago. Another great nation began to
fear the Tijan and their knowledge of magic. They were hunted and killed in great numbers. At their height the Tijan numbered 5,000,000 in number
but are now short of 100,000. the Vechi clan took the greatest hit because the arcane magics were seen as the most dangerous. The Tijan fought back but in the
end used their combined power to raise the island that would become Teren de Tijan. A large portion of their population now remains there but they retain their nomadic
lifestyle.

Major Exports: Wool, magic objects and services, silk

Major imports: food, luxuries, lodgings, wood, weapons.

Military: Archery is the dominate form of weaponery in battle. Magical means are generally their prefered form of warfare if they must fight however.
There are some guards on Teren de Tijan that wield spears, swaords, and mases. They do have a small but skilled navy that patrols the wwater around Teren de Tijan.