#Dataq Tribe

[hyzenthlay-kagon]

Wish we knew what the other tribe banners looked like. I need to know what Kagon's banner would look like! Would there be stars?!

The Xaela tribal banners I’ve managed to find so far.

Oronir

Qestir

Buduga

Mol

Dotharl

Dataq

[paintedscales]

Chronicles // Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

A collection of writings I've done for myself to establish Nomin and how I saw her beginning her journey. Headcanons and my own extrapolations on provided material from official sources abound.

This is a more comprehensive list of my main writings -- if only to make it a little easier for myself without diving into my tag to find them should I need to. If anyone else is interested in these, then I hope this list also makes it easier for you to access them as well -- and thanks if you actually enjoy them!

I plan on retroactively updating this when appropriate.

EDIT: Currently being rewritten and fleshed out in earlier parts, so the list is going to look a little janky until I'm happy with where the stories can converge upon one another!

Hear. Feel. Think.

The journey of this Warrior of Light is not an easy one, not that Hydaelyn's Chosen ever have it easy no mater what timeline she has touched. Within this journey, Nomin tal Kheeriin has trial after trial thrown at her as she grows and ventures across the Azim Steppe. She learns of the people of the Steppe, becoming closer with her people and their individual cultures within their tribes. Such valuable lessons and teachings guide her on her journeys, even when she travels across the Ruby Sea that sees her to Eorzea and other places she never imagined she would have seen otherwise.

Main Tag: #NTK:Chronicles || Read this work on Ao3! (account required)

Tumet

Sagahl

Esenaij

Ura

Qerel

Oroq

Arulaq

Urumet

Dotharl

Dataq

Daritai

Malqir

Bolir

Haragin

The Rice Farmer (Extra)

Geneq (UNEDITED PAST THIS POINT; CONTINUITY AND PLOT NOW DISJOINTED)

Moks

Mankhad

Jhungid

Bayarmaa

Hotgo

Dhoro

Kharlu

Gharl

Mol

Ugund

Malaguld

Arik

Noykin

Dalamiq

Himaa

Iriq

Borlaaq

Gesi

Chaghan

Qestir

Olkund

Uyagir

Goro

Adarkim

Avagnar

Bairon

Angura

???

[ffxivxd]

The Dataq tribe of the Xaela cover the most area in their migrations. They rarely stop in one area for longer than a few bells. Sleeping is all done on the saddle and tents are only used for heavy rains.

[amememightywarrior]

I just dragged all these people and more through the Dataqi Chronicles FATE chain in Azim Steppe.

All right. “Dragged” might be an exaggeration. More like ‘Spammed shout and a hunt LS with locations of each FATE as they happened’ and chatted with the people who showed up.

[moonlightpaladin]

Xaela Tribes

Sourced from here. I wanted to have these in one place to reference.

Adarkim: The largest of the Xaela tribes. While not the most skilled at battle, they overwhelm with numbers, taking losses in stride, knowing that a future victory over a weaker tribe will replenish their ranks.

Angura: A small tribe which keeps mainly to the mountainous region of northeastern Othard. The glare reflected by the everlasting glaciers upon which they travel has rendered this tribe's skin color a deep rusty tone.

Arulaq: A tribe thought lost 200 years ago, only recently discovered once again living in a secluded valley in the mountainous north.

Avagnar: Though defeated and absorbed by the Adarkim, several of the proud tribe's members still secretly use its ancestral name, knowing that it could mean death if they are discovered.

Bairon: A middle-sized tribe of the southern deserts and masters of survival in the driest of climes, the Bairon are all trained from a very young age to collect and drink their own bodily fluids, allowing them the ability to venture deep into places no other tribe will.

Bayaqud: A tribe of the steppe's western edges. Women from the Bayaqud tribe will traditionally take several husbands, as did the tribe's founding matron 2000 years ago.

Bolir: A small tribe that earns its living by collecting the dung of the beastkin herds which roam the steppes. The dung is dried, turned into charcoal in temporary kilns, and sold to other tribes.

Borlaaq: A tribe of all women. While breeding with men from other tribes is allowed, if a male is born into the tribe, he is given up within a year of birth.

Buduga: An all-male tribe which only increases its ranks through battle and kidnapping.

Chaghan: An offshoot of the Qerel tribe, these warriors enter a berserker rage known as the Will of Karash, which they believe to be a blessing from the Dusk Mother. They commit all manner of heinous acts when Karash takes hold, and some would even slay their own kin and claim it in the name of Mother Nhaama.

Dalamiq: One of only a few Xaela tribes which has abandoned the nomadic lifestyle and built a small village on an islet in the middle of a two-malm-wide span of the great inner river. It is said they once worshipped the now-fallen lesser moon.

Dataq: The Dataq cover quite possibly the most area in their migrations, for they rarely stop in one area for longer than a few bells. Sleeping is all done in the saddle, and tents are only used when the rains are heavy and unbearable.

Dazkar: Household duties such as cooking, cleaning, and childrearing are handled by the males of the Dazkar who, other than when on the move, rarely ever leave their family's yurts. Female Dazkar are tasked with hunting, and are known across the steppe as being some of the most accurate archers in the realm.

Dhoro: An elusive tribe that avoids contact with most other tribes. Lookouts are posted all about their camps with orders to flee given the moment an outsider is spotted.

Dotharl: An extremely violent tribe with members who revel in massacre and are taught from a young age not to fear death. While they are quick to attack other tribes, mortality rates are high, ensuring that their numbers never grow too high.

Ejinn: A river tribe that chooses to swim from place to place rather than walk or take boats. It is said that members of the Ejinn can hold their breaths for up to a quarter bell, and will often migrate while almost completely submerged in order to avoid contact with hostile tribes.

Geneq: In addition to the standard language used by most of the Xaela in cross-tribe communication, the Geneq employ a complex system of whistles and clicks which resemble the cloud- and wavekin of the steppe.

Gesi: The Gesi are masters of the slingspear, a mid-sized javelin carved from mammoth bone which, instead of being thrown by hand, is flung with a leather sling to improve range, speed, and killing power.

Gharl: Before each migration, the Gharl will fill a sacred urn with the soil of the place they just camped. This soil is then dumped upon arriving at the next location. This tradition has been carried out for thousands of years, leading people to believe that most the steppe is now all of one soil.

Goro: The Goro believe horses to be perfect beings, and each male and female, upon their coming of age, is married to a horse of the opposite sex. Reproductive mates are chosen by lots.

Haragin: The legends of this coastal tribe tell of a group of their ancestors who crafted a giant ship and sailed out across the endless eastern ocean. The explorers are said to have returned with tales of a terrible island covered in massive grey monoliths and inhabited by fire-breathing steel demons.

Himaa: For reasons unknown, one out of every three pregnancies amongst the Himaa result in twins. As a result, over half the tribe's members have a doppelganger. This can prove an advantage during attacks, as it confuses the enemy into believing the dead have risen.

Horo: To those who live the meager lifestyles of the steppedwellers, being overweight is a symbol of affluence and power. To appear heavier than one in their station, the members of Horo will drink copious amounts of water to bloat their bellies.

Hotgo: A tribe recently massacred by the Dotharl. The only members surviving are those who left the tribe to travel on their own and were not present during the killing. The Hotgo were known for their vibrant face paints which members would constantly change depending on their current mood.

Iriq: A tribe that follows the Borlaaq, taking on any male children given up by the female warriors and raising them as their own.

Jhungid: The second largest Xaela tribe. Mortal enemies with the Kharlu, the Jungid will spend the greater part of the year subjugating smaller tribes to swell their own ranks in preparation for an annual battle with the Kharlu—the winner gaining control over a large part of the eastern coastlands.

Kagon: The Kagon are a nocturnal desert tribe who worship Nhaama, goddess of the moon and mortal enemy of Azim, god of the sun. Instructed by their goddess that to step into the sun is to succumb to the evil of Azim, they spend the daylight hours in their tents, only emerging to hunt and migrate at night. The result is an uncharacteristically pale skin for a group of people living in an almost eternally fair-weather locale.

Kahkol: A tribe made up of orphans and refugees from tribes defeated or destroyed. Many choose to combine the name of their old tribe with Kahkol.

Kha: Unlike most of the Xaela, the Kha live on the fringes of the Xaela lands, actively seeking contact with non Auri peoples, introducing many aspects of those cultures into their own.

Kharlu: The third largest Xaela tribe. Mortal enemies with the Jungid, the Kharlu will spend the greater part of the year subjugating smaller tribes to swell their own ranks in preparation for an annual battle with the Jungid—the winner gaining control over a large part of the eastern coastlands.

Khatayin: A tribe which largely remains unseen, hunting goats in the mountains for nine moons of the year. The remaining three are spent at the foot of the great north range, where they survive off the dried meat they stocked.

Malagud: One of the only tribes that accepts people of the Raen—those that have been exiled, or those who have fled persecution—into their circle.

Malqir: A western steppe tribe characterized by its unique leader-choosing ritual which, instead of the usual test of brawn, is a game of Kharaqiq—a chess-like game played on a circular board divided into three rings.

Mankhad: A costal tribe which fights with blow-darts made from bones dipped in the poison of the pufferfish. So practiced with the pipes are the tribe, that they can disable a target from 200 paces.

Mierqid: A desert tribe which, over the course of a year, travels between over a hundred secret buried caches of supplies restocked with each annual visit.

Moks: A tribe invisible for the fact that its members are spread out across many different tribes (unbeknownst to those tribes). Communication between its members is done on the rare occasion when two tribes meet, through an ancient set of hand signals only recognizable by those who know what they are looking for.

Mol: A small tribe of devout worshippers of the elder gods, the Mol will consult with their deities (via a shaman conduit) before making any tribe-related decisions, from the direction of their next migration, to the beasts they will hunt each day for food.

Noykin: Master trainers of the wild horses which populate the majority of steppe. It is said that the horsewives of the Noykin can break any beast if given but a week.

Olkund: Selective breeding has seen the average height of the central steppe-dwelling Olkund tribe males reach over two and a half yalms. The females, for whatever reason, remain of an average height.

Orben: A tribe that rides up and down the great inner river on boats woven from reeds and reinforced with scales from their own skin.

Orl: A tribe that fled Othard in the wake of Garlean occupation. Several of the Orl found their way to the highlands of Coerthas but misconceptions of Au Ra being of Dravanian descent led Ishgardian soldiers to slaughter them indiscriminately. There is only known to be one survivor of this tribe.

Oronir: All members of the Oronir tribe believe themselves to be direct descendants of Azim, the tribe's god of the sun.

Oroq: The Oroq create sleds made of reeds dipped in horse fat to help move their possessions and young children about the inner grasslands.

Qalli: Also known as the songbirds of the steppe, the Qalli communicate through song, attaching a melody to their words to further add emotion to the meaning.

Qerel: The warriors of this tribe all wear complete suits of armor crafted from the bones of steppe tigers which they kill with their own hands upon their coming of age.

Qestir: This tribe refuses to speak, believing that all words are lies, and that a man's actions are the purest form of communication.

Sagahl: A tribe which sees all beastkin as equals with man, therefore refuses to eat or use them as beasts of burden. As a result, the diet of the Sagahl mainly consists of steppe shrubs and vilekin.

Torgud: This desert tribe does not wear any clothes, choosing instead to cover their bodies almost entirely in a white paint created from mud, lime, and bone meal. The paint helps to reflect the relentless desert sun.

Tumet: The children of the Tumet, upon seeing their tenth summer, are tied to a sacred tree while the remainder of the tribe packs up and moves to their next location. Those children who manage to break free from their bonds and catch up with the tribe at that next location, are given a name and allowed into the tribe.

Ugund: When members of this tribe die, their heads are removed from their bodies and placed in a jar of fermented goat milk. Once the liquid has been drunk by the head (in other words, evaporated), the head is then buried under an anthill so that the tiny workers can carry the spirit to the afterlife. The journey is thought to be a terrible one, the road filled with ghosts of the damned, so ensuring the spirit is drunk helps ease the journey.

Ura: This mountain-dwelling tribe is one of the few which instead of hunting, mine the precious ores of the peaks and trade them with the steppe tribes for food.

Urumet: This desert tribe has the queer custom of travelling with their elders carried upon their shoulders. It is believed that in the flat desert, this gives the tribe the advantage of being able to see farther.

Uyagir: One of a handful of Xaela tribes which have given up the nomadic lifestyle. The Uyagir reside in a system of limestone caves on the northern edge of the southern deserts which are believed to have been dug by a race of giant oliphant-like beetles which were placed on the land by the gods to punish the elder tribes that had grown too greedy.

[craterdogs]

I'm not sure where you're at in MSQ so. For the WoL ask meme pick 3 you wanna answer the most!

thank you for the ask! i love my special lil man so i'm glad people are curious about him :]

i just got to stormblood post patch so i know what most of these mean thankfully. everything's under the cut cus this seems to have gotten a bit out of hand

[asks from this: https://www.tumblr.com/craterdogs/701644429929365504/ffxiv-ask-meme-wols?source=share]

Why did they become an adventurer? Glory? Money? …?

i still haven't posted my Goro tribe lorepost cus it's not done but the short of it is they think horses are divinity so every tribe member is assigned a horse of the opposite sex to be symbolically wed to when they come of age (~16).

Ori's beloved horsewife Agtuurai died when she was attacked by a mammoth when Ori was ~22 so she died well before she was supposed to. it kinda irreparably fucked him up since any emotional intimacy in the Goro tribe is expected to be shared with what is essentially an emotional support animal that everyone has. romantic sexual partnerships between tribe members are kinda unheard of bc of the horse thing and also the reproduction roulette (mates drawn by lots. for real) happens every spring. it's all either compartmentalized or regimented.

this grief of losing his beloved Agtuurai combined with Ori having a visceral aversion to the reproduction roulette concept (turns out he's gay. whoops) AND the knowledge that he can't keep dodging the mating game like he has for two years AND he has no emotional support anymore to deal with it all just kinda. broke something in him. he also started having the Echo visions around this point and thought he was genuinely losing his mind. so he set out for Eorzea looking for answers like the Echo told him to because that was the only guidance he had at that point and he literally felt he had nothing left to lose.

it's basically this: it was more socially acceptable with his tribemates to become an adventurer than to stay there and he'd rather leave on his own terms than face ostracization from his small tight knit community

How do they deal with the pressure of being a or the Warrior of Light? Do they have a ritual to relax and recenter themselves?

okay so. he just never takes a break. the idea behind it is if he's busy he won't have time to Think but unfortunately Thinking still occurs occasionally. i joked initially that he'd go hide in some bushes or smth to have a quick sob every once and a while but i fear it has become canon, like everything else about him. we will stick to the bit til death takes us both.

but he knows (thinks?) he can save the people he's failed to save before if he embraces being the Chosen One. so he carries on. he's feeling a bit in over his head at this point though now that he is a significant political figure

Tell us about the two major events from MSQ that left the deepest emotional scars on your WoL.

this may be cheating but the entirety of heavensward/dragonsong tested his conviction. all the people that died in that arc were very dear to him and that's also when he learned he'd been lied to/left out of a lot of the Scions' plotting & scheming and had really only been used as cannon fodder #feelsbadman (also playing these arcs as a dragoon fucking slaps i love 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰 so much. and Estinien my good friend Estinien)

the OTHER thing is not main story. it is a FATE chain on the Azim Steppe called the Dataqi Chronicles. in short: the Goro tribe had a good number of its people slaughtered by the matanga beastmen. the Dataq tribe with the help of a single Goro survivor (and you, the player) help save the rest of the tribe. it's a very sweet story and i had no idea it existed til i got there so you can imagine the excitement.

so. picture this. you are Ori. you are visiting your homeland for the first time since you left a year or so ago. you are nervous about seeing your family bc you're worried you've changed too much so you put off visiting (he loves them and will defend his tribe to any naysayers despite the way it messed him up. you know how it is with family). then you run into the Dataq and help save an injured hunter they found and oh shit, she's your cousin and 1/4 of your tribe is dead. BUT. you can still help save who's left.

Ori feels immeasurable guilt about being too late and too cowardly to seek out his tribe sooner. but it solidifies his resolve to carry on and be brave even (especially) when shit gets personal. i am writing a short story about this so there will be a good long response to this sometime later

to summarize all these answers:

(he'll be fine. maybe)

[niche-for-a-light]

FFXIV LFRP – Runa Dataq

Lizzer. Be sure to read her rules and detailed about too! I rp in multi-para/novella style on Tumblr and on Discord, not in-game.

This is a sideblog to amissa-fide.

THE BASICS

Name: R’runa Mishca Runa Dataq

Age: 26 years

Nameday: 29th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo’te, Seeker of the Sun Au Ra, Xaela

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual, biromantic

Marital Status: Dating

Server: Twintania, Light DC

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: Black

Eyes: Red, bright red limbal rings

Height: 158 cm

Build: Lithe, lacking muscle definition, but healthy. Feminine waist and hips, but nonexistent bust.

Distinguishing Marks: Additional scales on her cheeks and forehead

Common Accessories: None

PERSONAL

Profession: Adventurer, healer for hire

Hobbies: Alchemy, botany

Languages: Common

Birthplace: Raptor tribe

Residence: Has an apartment in the Lily Hills, but can rarely be found home

Religion: Not her thing

Patron Deity: Make her pick and she’ll say Oschon, the Wanderer

Fears: Failing her chosen duties. Failing as a friend. Failing to be there for someone who needs it. Being unable to wander. Becoming disconnected from nature. Letting someone die.

RELATIONSHIPS

Spouse: None, but dating Ashtani

Children: None

Parents: R’mishca Nunh (father), R’eilh Tahx (mother). Current statuses unknown to her.

Siblings: R'viniat Mishca (older sister), R'kurat Tia (younger brother), R'sammal Mishca (half-sister), R'zak Tia (half-brother), some other half ones. Current statuses unknown to her.

Other relatives: A bunch

Pets: Chocobo companion, Kryse

TRAITS

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

HABITS

Smoking Habit: None

Drugs: No

Alcohol: Occasionally, in moderation

CHARACTER HOOKS

Healer for Hire: Need someone to keep you alive through a mission or just to take care of your tiny ass scrape? Throw some gil her way and she’ll take care of it.

Meddlesome: Trouble? Trust her to get involved in an attempt to sort it out. Is that welcome or not? You tell her.

On the Road: Wandering wanderer likely to wander into others in every possible corner of Eorzea. Danger or no danger? Depends entirely on the surroundings. And her attitude, probably. Might’ve pissed someone off, you never know.

Later in Life Xaela: Born a Miqo’te and only recently turned into an Au Ra through the power of Fantasia, there’s much and more she doesn’t know about the cultures of her new race. Eager as she is to leave her past behind and embrace her new chance at life, she’ll take any opportunity to learn. Perhaps you could provide her with one?

OUT OF CHARACTER

Mun is located in Northern Europe.

Discord is available if we’re planning to rp together. 

As a general rule there’s nothing I'm entirely unwilling to write, but let’s discuss everything and make sure we’re on the same page. I’m also cognizant of in-character consequences and might refuse to rp something as a result.

I mostly write in a single timeline, but I’m not completely opposed to canon-compliant AUs.

[thecat-inthehat]

3. Scale

A sequel to this. Content warning for insinuations of child abuse, and canonical Buduga actions. Set approx 8 years before the events of Stormblood.

(2155 words) [Masterpost]

---

Sometimes Daidukul Buduga hated his life. He hated the orders of Kete Khan, he hated the way the sun beat down on him, he hated how his feet ached as he walked into Reunion. He especially hated how everyone, even the Qestir, sneered at him as he walked in. They would not bar him, nor would they start a fight, but the Buduga were not well liked. 

And for good reason. Kete’s raids on the other tribes--capturing boys, men, supplies, and herds for their own--earned them the ire of most of the Steppe. The Dazkar especially hated them with a passion, as their men were considered homemakers and precious. The Qesi, the Horo, the Dataq, the Dotharl… all despised them. The Buduga had earned the ire of the Steppe, and Daidukul wondered how much longer it could last them. 

Based on how the merchants in Reunion looked at him, not long. He only had a few meager supplies for bartering, little and less Doman coin that might be of use, and little physical skill to trade. He needed bandages for one of the new boys, rope for tents, and a whole other assorted list of items. Kete had loathed to let Daidukul go, wanting to keep him close at hand in intimidation, but even he knew that attempting to walk into Reunion would be a death sentence. Reunion might be a place of neutrality, but enough tribes wanted him dead that it would be overlooked. 

And now Daidukul was in Reunion, alone, trying to ignore the daggers being glared at his back while doing some shopping.

“And what do you want?” The Goro merchant asked, glaring at him suspiciously as she petted her husband’s mane. 

“Rope, if you have any. Some of our yurts were destroyed by the spring storm.” Daidukul said, pulling out a sack of fruits gathered from their last raid. “I’m willing to trade a batch of apples for a few yalms…?”

The woman was about to protest, but her husband at her side knickered at the word “apple”, and she sighed. “Yes, yes, my love, I know you want them. Where did you get them?” She asked, her eyes narrowing. 

Daidukul knew better than to lie. But he could imply his discomfort. “Kete ordered a raid on one of the Adarkim septs.” Add a grimace of distaste here, a swish of his tail… Spinning the truth into a way that she could accept and maybe even feel sympathy for him, not unlike how he plied Kete with buttered words to protect himself or the younger brothers. 

The Goro’s lips pursed, and she idly pet her husband’s mane as she considered. “Well. If it was the Adarkim… How much did you need?” 

Dai felt some of the tension drain out of his shoulders, and he smiled gratefully. 

On and on it went, talking to various merchants, trading stories, and being careful with his words. Some still drove up the price regardless, but a few had learned to recognize him and his distinctive hair, and were cautiously willing to let him barter. He had come to Reunion enough times in recent years to be at least somewhat known, despite his green clothes, and a few were treating him fairly. He didn’t see the Ura colors, which was a shame -- Khuril was always more than happy to trade what they needed, among other things. 

Azim was turning in the sky, casting Reunion in a warm golden glow that made his scales feel hot. It wasn’t unwelcome really, as it helped get his mind off of how his feet hurt and loosened some of the muscles around his neck and shoulders. If he could just get what he needed and went home, then maybe he could avoid being pulled for guard duty that night. 

A glint caught his eye, and he couldn’t help but look up, shading his eyes against Azim’s light. An Oronir stood on the top of the overlook, gazing down at Reunion. A strange weapon was strapped to their back, and every so often it gleamed with golden light. 

“... Magnai?” Daidukul murmured, squinting at the figure. He could spot the golden braids, the broad shoulders. That had to be him. The damn brat was going to make him climb the overlook to talk to him, wasn’t he… With a sigh Daidukul headed for the north of the village to start heading up the hill. What in the hells was he even doing here, the Oronir were to the east this time of year, tending to their sheep herds. 

By the time he got to the top, his feet were aching, and a lance of pain was traveling up his left calf. He had to pause to let himself breathe and move his aether around, giving himself a second wind as he attempted to make the ascent. Normally his feet didn’t ache this much, but with the raid only a few days ago, and then working hard on Kete’s orders afterwards… if his feet had just healed properly when he was a boy, this wouldn’t have been such a problem, but of course not. Kete had to make sure none of the new brothers ran away, didn’t he? 

“You,” he groused as a way of greeting, “are a son of a bitch.” 

Magnai turned to face him, and his solemn expression dropped into one of concern. “Daidukul, what-- Damn it, he sent you out again, didn’t he?” 

Daidukul leaned on his knees briefly to catch his breath, and felt the second wind start to push back the pain. A hand touched his shoulder, and a burst of Magnai’s sunbright-aether flooded his senses, and the pain receded even more. He let out a shaky gasp, and felt his knees almost give out from under him in sheer relief. So he just decided to sit down in the grass and let himself rest for a moment. 

Magnai knelt down next to him, his brow furrowed in worry. “It’s nice to see you as well, Daidukul. My apologies, I didn’t realize you were down below.” 

“It’s alright,” Daidukul said, waving off Magnai’s hand. “What are you even doing here, the Oronir aren’t due this way for another several moons.”

The young man let out a sigh and decided to sit as well, dragging a hand over his face. On his back the … weapon? Glinted again, and Daidukul could see what looked like a pulse of aether moving about the stone. It looked vaguely in the shape of an axe, Magnai’s preferred weapon, but what was it? He cast out his senses just a bit, and Magnai’s own aether was nearly eclipsed by how strong the weapon seemed. 

“I went on pilgrimage.” Magnai said, glancing back at the weapon. When he looked back at Daidukul, the gold of his irises seemed to perfectly match the aether that pulsed through the axe. “I found a…” 

Dai waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, he looked at the weapon again. There was something niggling in the back of his mind again, and Daidukul felt his mouth drop open. 

“You… You found it? The Scale of the Father?” He demanded, staring at it. 

Magnai huffed a small laugh, and ran a hand through his hair and didn’t meet Daidukul’s eyes. The youth was arrogant like all Oronir, but this was the first time Daidukul had seen him be meek. “Aye. I’ve spent over a year searching for it, and Father finally showed me the way.”

Daidukul didn’t ascribe to the Father as much -- the Buduga tended to call themselves Nhaama’s spear, and prayed to Her more often than not. The Oronir, by contrast, were fiercely devout in their worship to the Father, believing themselves to be directly descended from Him. Any conversation with Magnai was always peppered by his beliefs and that confidence that the Sun flowed through his veins -- a confidence that he backed up by his sheer prowess on the battlefield. And now with a sign of the Father’s ironclad favor, surely he should have been strutting around like a preening yol, declaring his superiority for all that would listen. 

Except Magnai seemed… settled. Thoughtful, quieter, and less of a dire need to prove himself. 

“... He really did, didn’t He?” Daidukul asked softly. 

Magnai sat his arms on his knees, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands, and stared at the flowers in the grass before them. He didn’t speak immediately, letting the wind and the sun wash over them as the reality of what exactly he had accomplished crashed over them. What must it be like, Daidukul wondered, to be shown such favor by a Father that loved you, guided you into claiming His personal favor? To be cherished like a beloved son? He was a man of six and twenty, and yet he craved the confidence that this boy of nineteen summers had, he craved the easy acceptance and celebration of his ability. To be loved, unconditionally, by a Father that cared. 

“When I said to you that I would become Khan, I did not think it would be like this,” Magnai said softly, and his golden eyes flickered up at him. “Not with Father’s favor, and His eyes, watching my every move. But… we’ve talked for so long about what changes need to be made, how the Steppe has faltered and run themselves aground. This has to be a sign that we are on the right path.” 

“Magnai, this is--” Daidukul himself off, looking away. Sure, saying all of that was well and good, but… 

“You saw it, didn’t you?” Magnai continued on, relentless. “There are less merchants in Reunion this year, and even less will come next. Tribes have been lost, the winds grow stagnant as the Ironmen occupy the south. They will come for us, sooner rather than later.” 

“I know, but what chance do we actually have?” Daidukul murmured, and ripped up a blade of grass, shredding it anxiously between his fingers. 

“Isn’t this a sign, my friend?” Magnai asked softly, and it struck Daidukul how uncertain his voice sounded. “That we are on the right path? That Father has seen what I planned to do, what you told me of your own tribe, and granted us favor?” 

“Where’s that sunbright confidence, Oronir? Have you suddenly stuck your tail between your legs?” Daidukul asked, eyes narrowing slightly. 

Magnai didn’t meet his eyes, and instead unhooked the axe from its strap on his back and laid it across his knees. He ran his claws over it, and took a breath. “I climbed Skypiercer with naught but my fists and nerve. I found the tomb of Enkhtuyaa Khatun and her love, and read their story. Every time this weapon has been found, it is because change must come to the Oronir tribe, that the Father wishes our course to be corrected. I am not merely a brother to them now, I am the Eldest. I have to--” 

His voice cracked, and he bit his lip. Daidukul reached out and gently laid his hand over Magnai’s, giving it a small squeeze. 

“We have a duty, now, and the weight is heavier than the mountains. We must be what Father wishes, Daidukul. And I … I don’t know if I can do this alone. I can’t do this alone.” 

“You know I don’t worship the Father like you,” Daidukul said softly, running his thumb over the scales on Magnai’s fingers. There were some new there, scarred over from the cuts he must’ve gotten climbing the highest mountain in the Steppe. 

“I know. I have never claimed otherwise,” Magnai said, glancing up at him. “But… we’ve been friends for years now, and He has kept watch over us, even guiding us to meet. Surely that means something.” 

“It does. It does,” he murmured, and took his hand back to drag it through his hair. He let out a sigh, and glanced to the Dawn throne, where his tribe was camping just north of it. “So now I suppose that our plans have to become solid, not just… words on the wind.” 

Magnai nodded slowly, and let out a sigh. “Whatever it is, whatever you need of me, I will help. You believed in me when naught else did, Daidukul.” 

Daidkul inhaled, letting his lungs fill as he took in the scents from the wind and Reunion down below. This was … so much. He had talked with Magnai before about steering the Buduga on a better course, but it had always seemed so impossible, Kete’s reach too far to do anything about it. Every little act of rebellion he had tried seemed to make life worse, or worse for the brothers that were not in Kete’s favor. Maybe he didn’t have the Father’s favor, or even the Mother’s, but … Magnai did. And they would work together. 

“... I need to overthrow Kete.”

[dahniwitchoflight]

All of The Tribes of The Xaela, from FFXIV, sung by me to the tune of Yakko Warner’s “Nations of the World”

Lyrics:

Of the Tribes of the Steppe there’s first the Geneq, the Horo, and Goro, then Mol

Then Bairon, and Bayaqud, Ura, and Malaguld, Remember of course the Kahkol

Now there’s Adarkim, Bolir, the Sun-Children Oronir, Buduga, now the Dazkar

The Towering Olkund, the Dead Drunken Ugund, then Qerel and Tribe Avagnar

And then Dhoro, and Haragin, Secretive Khatayin, recently now Arulaq

The silent tribe Qestir, and Orben, and Uyagir, ever-migrating Dataq

There’s Feminine Borlaaq, and poisonous Mankhad, but sadly the Hotgo are gone

The Tribe of the Tumet, the Oroq and Urumet, Moks, Orl, Kha and Kagon

Jhungid and Gesi, the Songs of the Qalli, Miraculous twins of Himaa

The Malqir plays Kharaqiq, Masculine Iriq, and Cold of the North Angura

The Clay Urns of Gharl and Violent Dotharl, Furious Raging Chaghan,

There's Saghal, then Mierqid, settled-down Dalamiq, 

The Warring Tribe Kharlu, The Skin Painted Torgud 

The River Tribe Ejinn, The Riders of Noykin 

And those are the Tribes of Xaela

*edit* I did it again but I added background music this time and also changed the pronunciation of Xaela from Jhaela to Zaela because apparently a character in FFXIV saying it with the softer ZhJ sound was part of his accent and not how it was meant to be said lol whoops

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bUrq0AXlc3E

[jax332]

My OCs!

Hey guys

Recently I've noticed more and more people taking interest in my other characters and that makes me feel phenomenal! So I've decided to make a list of them in case you were wanting to get to know them a little too!

First up is @rashonagae he's my son of Doma. Born to two resistance fighters, Rasho is a very proud and noble sort, and having lived in Sui-No-Sato his whole life gave him the drive for something more than just the bubble. So he set out to become a Sekiseigumi, working for the turtles and sneaking out for samurai lessons in Kugane. His master and him watched the moon erupt over Eorzea and she encouraged him to go help.

Second is @jkehytia He is my Thavnairian boi. He was a shy kid growing up, only having 1 friend named Kacie. Kacie and Kehy decided to work together when it came to their tribe's coming of age ceremony, where every child at the age of 15 had to go into Thavnair and prove to themselves and their parents that they have what it takes to live and thrive on their own. She ended up seducing him and stabbing him mid... Yeah.

@walkerofthedawn is Duncan Dawnwalker, and he is... Completely off the hook when it comes to lorebending and personality. He's time traveled, dimension traveled, time traveled again... He's fought the empire, got his soul crystal from Jax's Dad, learned how to SMN by basically bringing each of the espers that trouble Rabanastre during the raid into existance, and he's befriended a moogle monk!

@ofhorsesandmen is Day'ir Dataq, Jax's father's bodyguard, who was born on the steppe and sucked at hunting, though he never gave it up. After hunting a giant chocobo? (Giant yellow bird) and it took one slash at him and pushed him to the brink of life and death. After Jax's Aunt on his father's side of the family found him, she healed his wounds and restored him back to health. Being born of an unknown tribe and found by the Dataq, he was raised and loved as he was.

@leaderofthecult is my "villain" character, but even he even has a bit of innocence. Yuzuka's parents died early on in his life, and he was the leader of a dravanian cult as of age 5. His caretakers fed him the usual, either dragon flesh or the flesh if recently deceased cultists and/or hunters that died fighting the cult. He doesn't know any better and will eat the flesh of recently deceased party members for dinners. It's just how he was raised, please don't hate him x.x

AND THAT'S ALL OF THEM FOLKS!

If you'd like to interact with one of them then hit them up! If not, then pass them by. Thanks for your support!

[finalsongxiv]

GEREL DATAQ | MATEUS

↦ NOT LOOKING FOR ROLEPLAY  >> GENDER: Male >> AGE: 28 yrs >> RACE: Xaela, Au Ra >> BIRTHPLACE: The Western Steppes >> SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual

↦ PERSONALITY Abrasive | Rude | Push-Over when you’re small and cute (read: Tsundere OTL) Gerel has a personality that doesn’t always mingle well with others. His immediate reaction to being suddenly approached is usually harsh and rude, as he generally doesn’t like to be interrupted while he’s busy. If you can get past the initial backlash, his prickly demeanor lessens quite a bit. He’ll quickly come to accept and even respect some people’s presence. On the other hand, you might find yourself on the receiving end of smug indifference. It’s really a toss-up. ↦ BIOGRAPHY Gerel was born in a small clan that roamed the vast Western Steppes. No one stayed long, usually shifting to other clans as their paths crossed with others of their tribe. When they diverged, he was with new people, with new stories and new experiences. The only constant was his older sister, his only living blood family. He greatly admired his sister, an exceptional warrior who was beautiful and kind. He was much younger than she was, and didn’t understand that she was fighting towards something larger than herself. She kept her actions and motives separate from her clan and life with her brother. But eventually, this great secret calling took her life. Gerel was old enough by then to defend himself, but the death of his sister nearly crippled him. For some time, he traveled the world listlessly, and slowly, as recovery came, so did the urge to fight. Eventually, Gerel sought out a great guild in Eorzea to learn black magic. ↦ LIFE IN EORZEA Gerel has flourished with proper instruction and is studious in his prusuit of knowledge. Unexpectedly, he finds himself aiding a strange order who call themselves the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. If not for the fact that he had heard the voice himself, he would have written them off as mad. Gerel is a warrior of light, one who can hear the echo, but he struggles to accept this voice is trustworthy, and these people righteous. Only time can tell, and he is not short of that. (He is not “The” Warrior of Light)  ↦ FEARS (Vigorously scratched out) ↦ OTHER  >> PROFESSION: Adventurer | Researcher  >> HOBBIES: Collecting small animals and helping them back to health, studying, riding his carbuncle, practicing new forms of magic.   >> LANGUAGES: Common, Doman, A bit of this and that from traveling but really only enough to convey he isn’t a threat and words to establish trade >> RESIDENCE: While he generally camps near Ul’dah, he has no permanent residence. >> BIRTHPLACE: He has no idea, the western plains are vast and he doesn’t remember his parents.  ↦ TRAITS extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathetic / apathetic / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between cultured / uncultured / in between loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

↦ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE >> HAIR: Soft, white, messy >> EYES: Pink, with a limbal ring of white >> BUILD: Gerel has spent his life outside living a nomad’s life, his hands are rough and his skin is darkened from the sun. His shoulders are broad from carrying his supplies on his back and he is strong from his adventures. He is long limbed and tall with a natural glower that cows strangers at a glance.  ↦ DISTINGUISHING MARKS >> Gerel has a tattoo on his forehead that was given to him when he was much younger, back when his sister was alive. They represent a promise to train himself in morality and discipline, concentration, and wisdom in order to be more pure, awakened and enlightened indiviual. After the death of his sister, he gave up this promise, taking up black magic instead. The void in his soul was too great to care for others for some years after his sister’s passing. >> He keeps metal ornaments at the end of his horns that dull the tips. >> Like his scales, his fingernails are black. ↦ COMMON ACCESSORIES >> You will rarely see Gerel without a set of earrings on or a pair of fingerless leather gloves. His nails are black and sharp.

[Not Actively Roleplaying This Character but Headcanons are A-OKAY.] >> Flirting is a-okay but I’d rather get to know you before we did anything NSFW. >> I’m actually not a huge NSFW rper. I like drawing it occasionally/writing it but NSFW RP isn’t my favorite.  >>I prefer paragraph and I actually prefer rping in google docs vs in-game but I’m happy to rp in game if I’m not running around actually playing. >> I don’t care if we’re on different servers, I’m happy to rp with anyone. Just send me an ask! >> My favorite kind of RP is stupid romantic garbage and friendship ships HH I also really like beating characters up in RP and heavy angst so I mean fair warning;;  

>> I’m just getting back into rp and am interested in some casual rp!  >> Mature/dark themes are okay! >> I prefer paragraph rp! >> I also like to use google docs, but that isn’t necessary! I just find it easier to keep track of everything and play between posts. I can also respond outside of the game that way! >> I also don’t mind if we aren’t on the same server, we can just rp through google docs.

N/A

>> Feel free to say hi in-game or on tumblr! I work full time so I’m slow sometimes if you leave me a message (hhhh), but I’ll reply when I can! <3 

[theduskthrone]

21: Repast

The night before the Naadam, the Mol feasted. 

It was tradition, of course; a celebration before the day the tribe would fight for glory and power. Natorei recognized almost all of the traditional foods, and even helped prepare some of them. But she could not bring herself to eat anything. 

Even the cooking aromas were enough to send her back to her lost childhood, remembering nights with her parents, or with her own tribe, that hurt her to remember. Because here she was, in her homeland she thought she would never see again, and she had made no effort at all to reconnect with the Dataq. If anything, she had intentionally avoided them, immersing herself in her work with Hien and the Mol to the exclusion of all else. 

The night of the feast, she tasted none of the exquisitely prepared local cuisine, instead only eating trail rations that she had packed from Eorzea. 

[paintedscales]

009. Dataq

A storm brews over the Retreat, and there are worries on where to take refuge for the night as the Sagahli van finds themselves a little stranded out on the desert sands. Thanks to a keen eye, however, they do not have to travel far to find allies that are willing to take them in for the night.

Word Count: 5,135

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

Time among the Dotharl was much more palatable once Nomin was able to meet again with Arik. The two of them had sat together for their meals while other Dotharl were more than happy to give shows of strength in their celebrations that night. Whether it be through a contest of bökh, or even trading punches and kicks with one another, the Dotharl were more than happy to celebrate with raucous cheer and merriment in their own way. With their win in the Naadam, and even the year's khagan having his babe’s soul revealed, there were many reasons for the tribe to revel.

Of course, time spent with her new friend was short lived as Nomin suspected it would have been. Once the dawn of morning shed its light upon the golden sands of Nhaama’s Retreat, Esenaij had already been awake and took care of the wain and that upon it. Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai were no slouches, either, as they ensured that their waterskins and extras were refilled with the elder's blessing. Everything went smoothly for them.

Nomin was wracked with disappointment as she trudged from the ger she and Bayarmaa were housed in for the night. A frown was set upon her lips. She hated waking so early, but more than that, she hated the idea that she would not have been allowed the chance to say a proper goodbye to Arik before they were well on their way back to the Sagahl Iloh. They were to go back before the Sagahl’s migration, which seemed to make Esenaij firm in his want to hurry along. Unfortunately for Nomin, the others that were part of the van agreed to this -- even Bayarmaa, much as she seemed to sympathize with Nomin.

“You'll get another chance to see your friend again, I'm sure,” Bayarmaa said, doing what she could to console the clearly upset Nomin. It was evident by Nomin’s silence and unwillingness to converse that she was saddened by the notion of not getting to have just a few more bells in the morning in order to have that moment of farewell.

In fact, Nomin even committed to bundling herself up and going back to sleep in the bed of the wain for a good portion of the rest of the morning. Her dreams were of little comfort, however. Within the scape of the dream she had, Nomin was brought back to her trek toward Reunion after her Tumeti trial.

The ropes slung over Nomin's shoulders felt heavy, as if they weighed her down more and more with each step she took. They snaked around her as if they intended to tie her back to the trunk of another dawn pine. Not only that, the visage of Reunion itself felt like it was not getting any closer.

No…it instead felt as if the settlement were growing more distant.

It was frustrating. Just as Nomin thought she was making progress in getting to Reunion, the lands shifted and stretched. Nomin only walked and walked, never reaching her destination, and only growing more frustrated as the ropes weighed heavy and even began to asphyxiate her.

Then the world shook as Nomin struggled and fought her binds. The land was suddenly bathed in darkness before the loud crack of thunder made her open her eyes in a start. She sat up in the wain, bringing her knuckles to her eyes to rub at them momentarily as she regained her bearings. When she looked around, she saw how the sky was blanketed in dark clouds that obscured the sun and shrouded the land with a heavy shadow of gray.

“Rain in the Retreat, huh… What rotten luck that it would appear now to hinder us,” Nomin overheard Daritai mention as she crawled over to one side of the wain. She blinked away the bleariness from her eyes and scanned the sandy lands.

“It’ll do us no good to get caught up in it,” Esenaij replied, a slight groan to his voice, indicating his annoyance at the fact. “Those clouds rolled in quick. It’s not ideal, but it may be best to head back north and west to the caves where the Uyagir house themselves. They would not be wont to turn us away. It’ll add another sun or two to our way back to the Sagahl, but we have little choice if we wish not to be kept stranded by the rain.”

There was a momentary pause.

“And all that besides, it will not do Nomin well to get caught in the rain, either. I would rather not have to deal with any ailments she gains from attempting to hastily see ourselves to our destination versus being smart about it,” Esenaij continued.

“Wait!” Bayarmaa exclaimed, standing at the top of a nearby dune. Her tail was arched upward with delight or a sense of accomplishment, perhaps both. She then turned to look at the rest of the van and pointed excitedly beyond. “The Dataq are not far from us and have built their encampment to weather the approaching rain! We won't have to travel bells just to get to where the Uyagir are!”

Barghujin let out a low whistle and then grinned.

“Nice eye! It's a shame you don't come often with us, Bayarmaa! I wonder how many obstacles we could have avoided having you along,” Barghujin chuckled. Despite the comment made in jest, Esenaij shot them a look that seemed to speak volumes on how he had not appreciated the connotations of what was said.

“Let us just meet with the Dataq and seek sanctuary with them,” Esenaij said with a small growl to his tone. “We have nothing to give them in turn, though. I hope they mind little of this situation.”

“Worried about the Dataq and not the Uyagir?” Keuken asked with a slight scoff.

“The Uyagir would definitely not have asked for anything in return. Such is their way of eternal punishment unto themselves. I certainly would have felt less guilty about asking if we might use their caves for shelter…” Esenaij attempted to reason.

Bayarmaa made her way down the dune swiftly, using the sand to slide down on occasion, giggling somewhat as she approached. When she neared, she wagged a finger at her brother. “Not so! We have springtime knowledge of what vegetation to expect on the Steppe and how to harvest it. We'll trade our knowledge for their shelter should they want something in return.”

“... If they even want our knowledge…” Daritai sighed. He pushed some strands of hair out from obscuring his face, a frown settled upon his lips. “As a tribe that never seems to stop unless necessary, the Dataqi people are no doubt the most knowledgeable about the Steppe in its entirety, and even that outside of it, wherever they choose to roam…”

“Oh, I'm sure there's something we could share…” Bayarmaa replied, putting her hands on her hips. “I don't think we need to worry about it too much.

“We’ll get nowhere just speaking about it,” Esenaij sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He adjusted the harness of the wain and started in the direction of where Bayarmaa saw the Dataqi encampment. “The sooner we manage to shelter ourselves, the better. Let us meet with our Dataqi brethren.”

Nomin did nothing but stay silent in the back, still disappointed. She thought to herself that if it were going to rain anyway, they should have asked the Dotharl if they could stay a day longer. Though, she laid back down in the wain, staring at the covering that was stretched over the bed.

Plip.

Plip.

Plip plip plip.

Raindrops started falling, their slow drips becoming the rising chorus of rainfall blanketing the land. What Nomin recognized afterward was that Esenaij hastened his pace, and it seemed that Daritai and Keuken pushed the wain at either side to help speed up the process of pulling it, while Barghujin and Bayarmaa pushed from behind in order to ascend the dune and then slow it down on the descent. All the while, the rain thickened, wettening the sand and drenching everyone else.

By the time the van arrived at the Dataqi encampment, everyone that was not Nomin was soaked from head to toe. Nomin herself was instructed to stay in the back for the time being where she could stay dry from the pouring rain. All the while, she overheard Barghujin and Bayarmaa speaking with voices she didn't recognize; members of the Dataq, surely.

Their words were just distant background noise in the moment to Nomin as she lay there, staring idly up at the inky canopy that kept her shielded from the sun prior. Now it kept her shielded from the rain…

The cart moved again and Nomin sat up to look over the side of the wain. She saw ger that were all standing close together. There was something different about them -- something Nomin could not quite place her finger on. Not right away at any rate.

Esenaij had been directed to take the wain to where the horses and sheep were being sheltered. The smell of the livestock hit Nomin first as she brought the fabric of her robes up to cover her nose. It was unpleasant, and she was quick to grab her baras toy and get herself out of the vehicle once it entered the shelter of the pavilion.

Nomin saw Bayarmaa off in the distance close to one of the ger and was about to run off in her direction. Before Nomin could even leave the covered patch of land, she was grabbed by the arm by Esenaij.

“Not so fast…”

Nomin looked back at Esenaij, the bright green glow of his limbal rings cutting through the darkness down at her. Wind-aspected, Nomin was told during her first few suns among the Sagahl. Esenaij’s aether was aspected to wind that showed in the limbal rings he was given during his coming of age and that he  never bothered to change.

Letting go of Nomin, Esenaij reached into one of the crates that held the van’s collective belongings, and he pulled out a thickly woven blanket made from linen.

“Stay close. I won't have you getting drenched and coming down with any ailments…” Esenaij said, throwing the blanket first around his shoulders before holding it up to prevent the rain from falling on Nomin and drenching him any further. He led her toward Bayarmaa, who had been accompanied by a woman Nomin did not recognize.

“This is where we'll be staying tonight,” Bayarmaa informed Nomin as they went into the ger. Esenaij since took off to a different one that he was to share with Barghujin, Keuken, and Daritai.

Looking around the ger, Nomin finally put her finger on it. The ger of the Dataqi were smaller than the Sagahli (or even the Tumeti) ger she was more used to. Small, and yet…there were several children in this ger. Like a babysitting area in Reunion. Along with said children were two adult members of the Dataq who regarded both she and Bayarmaa warmly.

Nomin and Bayarmaa learned that the two women that were stationed in this ger were both mothers -- not of all the children present, but mothers that were keen on babysitting and watching over the children while the storms raged on. When Nomin glanced around, she noticed that the children had a myriad of things to keep them occupied. Some children had puzzles, others had books, a couple of children had even been playing with wooden dolls on the opposite side of the ger.

“Hey! Holuikhan! Those girls’ horns and scales are weird, just like yours!” a boy yelled at another girl who seemed to sit away from the other kids. After he had spoken, some of the other Dataqi children giggled or laughed. This caused Nomin to furrow her brow while raising her hand to cover some of the discoloration she knew she had on her horns.

Bayarmaa stayed silent, but she placed a comforting hand on Nomin's back.

“Erketu! You leave those Sagahli girls alone! I will not have you creating enemies in this ger while we’re here!” one of the women scolded, getting up from her seated position. She had previously been sipping some tea while having a conversation with the other woman in the structure.

“It’s not my fault their scales are weird!” Erketu retorted.

“It’ll be your fault when I lay you across my knee. Keep speaking as you are, we’ll see what happens!” the mother went on, grabbing the boy by his horn and dragging him to the other side of the ger. “They are  guests here while we wait out the storms. You will not make them feel unwelcome here and defile our standing with the Sagahl!”

After the woman sat Erketu on the other side of the ger, she approached both Nomin and Bayarmaa with an apologetic look on her face. She offered a respectful bow, more to Bayarmaa than to Nomin. Clearing her throat, she said, “my apologies for him. Children are wont to say whatever is on their mind… I hope that Erketu hasn't caused you too much distress.”

Bayarmaa shook her head, taking the outburst in stride.

“Fret not… Regardless of any commentary, my little sister and I appreciate the Dataq offering us respite in this dire weather,” Bayarmaa replied. She kept a hand on Nomin’s back before her attention went toward the girl that had been included in Erketu's outburst regarding Bayarmaa and Nomin. She moved her hand and squeezed Nomin’s shoulder gently, looking down at her. “Isn't that right?”

“... I guess…” Nomin slowly replied, frowning after glancing in Erketu's direction. Her response caused Bayarmaa to sigh before she removed her hand.

“Please, go and join the other children and play with them,” the Dataqi woman urged Nomin after looking down at her. She motioned toward the rest of the ger with an efforted smile upon her face, the children who overheard looking up with some curiosity before going back to what they were doing prior. Of course, Nomin could only glance from the woman to the other children in the ger.

Hanging from the center pole of the ger, two lanterns hung, casting warm light over everyone and everything. Nomin’s eyes adjusted well enough to the dim and warm lighting, and she looked back up at Bayarmaa before scanning the ger once more. She eventually saw that girl -- Holuikhan, Nomin remembered Erketu saying -- and walked toward her.

“... Hello, I'm Nomin!” Nomin greeted, holding her baras toy close. Though Nomin only had lamp light to see, the girl that sat there with an open book in her lap had much more noticeable patches of discoloration on her scales up close. The patches were nearly white with a purple fade between the black and white discoloration. Unlike Bayarmaa and Nomin’s striated markings, Holuikhan's patches were like blotches of spilled paint.

Nomin cleared her throat, glancing back at Bayarmaa when she got no response from Holuikhan. She then pointed at the book and attempted to strike up conversation again. She wanted to quell the pang of jealousy that hit her, for Nomin was still not versed too well in being able to read nor write.

“What are you reading?”

Holuikhan looked up finally at Nomin, a small frown creased upon her lips. She stared at Nomin for a long time before she finally looked back down at her book. Holuikhan slowly closed the book and looked at the title on the cover.

“It's called Maiden of the Sea of Blades…” Holuikhan eventually said in response. Her words were soft and delicate, and Nomin had to lean forward a bit to hear her.

“Is it good?” Nomin questioned.

A small nod was Holuikhan's response. A smile grew upon her lips, and then she asked with piqued interest, “would you like to read it with me? It's about a woman named Tomame Hagane from the Malaguld tribe who goes to the lands of Yanxia and discovers an ancient sword of her people! It’s one of the few stories we have about a Raen au ra taken in by the Malaguld on a quest to discover an ancient family heirloom of theirs!”

“Oh, I…” Nomin started, casting her eyes to the ground. The story already sounded amazing, but Nomin harbored some doubts about her capabilities. She swallowed after a moment, her voice quieting. “I can't really read that well… Bayarmaa…she's been teaching me to read and write. But there's a lot I still don't really know…”

Hearing her name, Bayarmaa walked over, weaving between other Dataqi children before she crouched down with a smile. She looked from Nomin to Holuikhan, and then down at the book. Casting her gaze back toward Nomin, she said to them, “I have something fun we could do.”

Both Nomin and Holuikhan looked at Bayarmaa inquisitively.

“Holuikhan, have you ever written or made up your own stories?” Bayarmaa asked, her warm expression remaining upon her face.

“Sometimes…” Holuikhan looked down at her book. “But I like reading the ones we get from Reunion or other traders more than making my own stories.”

“I see…” Bayarmaa brought a finger to her chin, a low hum of consideration falling from her lips. Her smile remained, even as her expression grew pensive. She then waved toward one of the two women overseeing the children, catching her attention. “Excuse me,  might you have some vellum and writing supplies that we can use?”

“Of course, let me see what I can scrounge up,” the woman said, placing down her cup and walking toward one of the boxes. There were a few boxes that were in the ger for the kids specifically that had things like handcrafted toys and instruments for the children to play with, and books that Nomin could not read.

Nomin's change in demeanor was apparent. Her tail flicked upward and a large smile spread across her face. She held her baras toy close, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Are we going to draw, Bayarmaa?”

“I was thinking…if Holuikhan liked at all to make stories, we could draw some pictures of some of her favorite moments she's made,” Bayarmaa suggested.

“I don't know how to draw…” Holuikhan replied, her prior expression of interest deflating a little bit. “If you drew anything, you should draw stuff with Tomame in it, though! She's my favorite to read about.”

The woman that had been flagged by Bayarmaa retrieved some rough paper and some charcoal and offered them to both the Sagahli individuals after approaching them. Both Bayarmaa and Nomin gave thanks as they took up the materials and laid them out. Holuikhan watched them, eyes following the papers being laid out momentarily before she looked at Nomin as she took a seat to get more comfortable.

With the paper laid out, Nomin grabbed one of the sticks of charcoal. Already, she set to work to get some plants and shrubs she remembered being taught about etched upon the paper. Holuikhan leaned over, watching with intrigue as Nomin dragged and prodded the stick of charcoal across the sheet she had.

Meanwhile, Bayarmaa got herself settled more upon the ground and took up her own stick of charcoal to start drawing. Her drawings were a little more carefully planned, though unlike Nomin, she began sketching something that resembled more of an auri visage. When Holuikhan looked over at Bayarmaa and what she was working on, there was a long moment between the three of them that was filled with silence, the scratching of charcoal, and the heavy battering of rain against the ger.

Thunder cracked, making the land shake with its reverberations. Some of the kids gasped or gave a slight start in response, though Nomin only remained silent. Her heart raced, but the thunder was not as bad as the gedan attack or being startled by the Dotharl when she bore witness to their khatun seeing the soul of another. Their cheers and whooping still rang in her horns whenever she recalled being back there.

“Why are you just drawing plants?” Holuikhan asked, having shifted her attention back to Nomin’s drawings.

Nomin paused.

“I want to, um…” Nomin took a moment, frowning in thought. She struggled for words, attempting to find the phrase Bayarmaa taught her. Eventually, she shrugged it off and simply continued with: “I want to keep remembering what Bayarmaa taught me about plants, and I can do that by drawing them.”

“Commit them to memory,” Bayarmaa gently said in a helpful manner.

“Yes! That's what I was trying to say!” Nomin beamed, looking up at Bayarmaa and then looking at Holuikhan.

“Did you teach Nomin to draw, Miss Bayarmaa?” Holuikhan asked, glancing between both Nomin’s drawing and Bayarmaa’s drawing. Compared to Nomin’s shaky and eager depictions of bulbs and other plants, Bayarmaa’s drawing was taking the shape of an auri traveler who was accompanied by a horse.

“She was actually already pretty familiar with it,” Bayarmaa replied with a chuckle. She glanced at Nomin. “How did you start drawing, Nomin?”

“Drew in the dirt a lot…” Nomin's reply was to the point, her gaze going back down to her sheet and drawings. She paused again, her attention going to the book that was in Holuikhan's possession. Pointing to it, Nomin posited the idea, “that's your favorite story, right? How about you read it for us while we draw? If it's a good story, I want to know it, too!”

“Yeah!” Holuikhan said, beaming as her eyes brightened with excitement. She flipped the book all the way back to the start. “I’ll go slowly so I can also explain! I love this story.”

Holuikhan looked back at the drawings.

“Can you show me how to draw if I read the story?” Holuikhan asked.

Nomin giggled and nodded. “I can show you how to draw, sure!

Time with the Dataq continued on like that for Nomin and Bayarmaa both. Holuikhan read the story of Tomame, explaining some bits that Nomin asked about, and keeping her in suspense for other details. Though Nomin pouted at some of the secrets of the book, she simply continued to listen, sometimes stopping where she was in her doodling to look at and listen to what Holuikhan read. The book captivated Nomin enough to ask Bayarmaa if they could get a copy of the book from Reunion the next time they went.

What intrigued Nomin further was when Holuikhan showed her pictures painted into the book with a grin.

“There are books with drawings?” Nomin asked, surprised by the knowledge. She thought all they had were writings in them.

“You’ve never seen picture books?” Holuikhan asked. She pointed at the drawing on her current page with a smile. The image was of an auri woman, her horns and tail white as snow. “There are drawings in the book to help tell the story and sometimes help you get an idea of what the characters look like.”

Nomin took in the details as much as she could. Both she and Holuikhan exchanged interests, with more of the book having been read aloud as the night settled, and Nomin breaking out of her normal art subjects to attempt drawing Tomame. All until the two eventually wore themselves out to slumber, Bayarmaa and the other women helping to get them tucked in for the night.

When morning rolled around, the rains had come to an end. The lands were damp, though could easily be maneuvered.

Esenaij and the others were already set to work, getting the wain prepared. Meanwhile, many of the Dataq were quick to rise themselves, their efforts going toward dismantling their ger and getting their belongings loaded up upon their horses and their own wains that carried the materials. There were a good few Dataqi members who were already sitting in the saddles of their horses, but were tied or secured to them; these members were slumbering still yet sitting upon their steeds, their saddles having been outfitted with cushioned backs so that they could lean against them if needed.

“They sleep like that?” Nomin inquired as she got situated in the back of Esenaij’s wain. Part of her imagined that she could never sleep on the back of a horse -- especially if it was to keep moving across the Steppe. She imagined the horse’s gait from what she remembered with the Tumet. A gallop could be smooth, but a trot? Now that would have just been uncomfortable.

“It's part of how they ensure they can travel the Steppe unimpeded,” Daritai mentioned as he placed a secured jar of water down into the wain bed. Apparently it was a collection of rainwater the Dataq gathered and allowed for them to take with them should their waterskins run dry. Daritai then looked over at Nomin before continuing; “it's far from uncommon that the Dataq will continue to ride for days at a time. They really only stop for a couple bells for their horses and sheep to rest. Sometimes they stop to milk and shear their sheep.”

“They probably had their encampment set up bells before the storm actually hit yesterday, too,” Barghujin said after they drank deep of their waterskin. They then took a book from their satchel and handed it off to Nomin with a grin. “New education material for you. The Dataq have traveled all across the Steppe because of their way of life and have recorded their own findings. A lot of what they have of immense value is mostly in the weather and environmental differences to effectively prepare themselves should they need to hunker down because of natural hazards. They were happy enough trading us some recordings they had for our own on herbs and medicine.”

Nomin hummed in consideration to that. She never really thought about the rain nor the snow other than they were things that happened and things she, at this time, expected to have been sheltered from. She never thought about planning ahead. Not until she took up the proffered book and heard Barghujin’s words.

“Nomin!”

Nomin looked over the railing of the wain at the sound of her name. Holuikhan was running for the wain and the other Sagahl, a familiar book clutched to her chest along with some loose sheets of vellum. She eventually paused just a few fulms distance from the wain before continuing in a walk, her breathing somewhat labored by her run to get there.

“The Dataq are soon to ride across the Steppe again,” Holuikhan said, looking over her shoulder briefly and then looking back up at Nomin. She adjusted the book within her hold and then offered it to Nomin. The second book that was offered that morning already.

Taking the book gently, Nomin looked it over and gave a small gasp when she realized what book it was.

Maiden of the Sea of Blades.

“Are you sure, Holuikhan? Isn't this your favorite book?” Nomin asked, hesitation in fully accepting the gift evident by the way she held it gently against the railing. It was as if Nomin was waiting for Holuikhan to have second thoughts and snatch the book back into her possession.

Holuikhan nodded emphatically in response to Nomin’s inquiry, however.

“That's why I want you to have it! I've read the story of Tomame so many times, I could probably tell you the whole thing by heart!” Holuikhan proudly said. She then relaxed her shoulders, her expression softening. “But you've never read it before… Maybe it can be your favorite story, too. You know, since we didn’t get to finish it last night at all. Only scratched the surface! And…and maybe when we see each other again, we can talk about the book and draw together again.”

Nomin then pulled the book close. Protective. A warm smile spread over her face.

“Thank you, then. I’ll have Bayarmaa help me read it!”

Holuikhan then took the sheets of vellum and organized them, getting them all straightened out. She held them up, and Nomin saw that the sheets held out to her were some of hers and Bayarmaa’s drawings that were done over the course of the night prior.

“You left them in the ger…” Holuikhan informed Nomin. “I mean, the both of you did. I didn't think you'd want to leave without them.”

Just as Nomin was reaching for the sheets, Bayarmaa was walking toward them, Keuken at her side. Withdrawing her hand and then waving at Bayarmaa, Nomin smiled widely. In return, Bayarmaa was quick to give a gentle wave before her attention went to Holuikhan.

“Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave with your tribe?” Bayarmaa asked, somewhat surprised by Holuikhan's presence.

“Y-Yes!” Holuikhan turned toward Bayarmaa and offered to her instead the drawings. “I was just wanting to say goodbye and to give you both your drawings back before I left with my parents. Not to mention giving Nomin the book about Tomame!”

Bayarmaa took the drawings, a soft and mused scoff falling from her. Thumbing through the drawings, Bayarmaa then picked out one in particular. It was of a charcoal drawing she did of Tomame alongside her steed. She then handed it to Holuikhan.

“Keep this one. Since you enjoy Tomame so much, this one is for you,” Bayarmaa said.

“You mean it?” Holuikhan’s brow rose up as she tentatively took up the drawing.

“Of course. Keep it, it’s yours,” Bayarmaa reaffirmed. With the bed of the wain having been largely emptied since their time with the Dotharl, she went around to seat herself on the back. As the wain jostled and shifted, Esenaij sighed as he readjusted the harness onto his person.

Holuikhan held the drawing close, looking down at the image of Tomame fondly. Offering a small bow in thanks and respect, she then turned to leave with the rest of the Dataq. Not before pausing and looking back, expressing thanks for the drawing and for their time the night prior.

Once everyone was on the road on their respective ways, Nomin started prattling away about some parts of the story she remembered, mostly to Bayarmaa. The book was then taken and shown to Bayarmaa as well, Nomin looked up at her with excitement.

“Can we read this together after studies?” Nomin asked, eyes bright.

Laughing lightly, Bayarmaa took the book up in her hands and opened it. Smiling down at Nomin, she replied, “we can read it right now. It’ll be part of our studies since we’re still working on reading and writing along with all of our other things. How’s that sound?”

A surprised look gave way into further excitement, and Nomin nodded eagerly as she settled next to Bayarmaa. “I’d like that!”

[ffxivxd]

Sokhatai of the Dataq is the niece of Khalja, the khan of the tribe. Her parents and husband were claimed by a sickness, ushering her into depression. However, the 28 year old of Qalli heritage came to terms with her loss and now uses singing and poetry as a hobby.

[dutyfound]

Tsagaan Sar - A Xaela Lunar New Year Event

A gathering of Xaela - family and friends are invited to Reunion to celebrate the arrival of the Lunar New Year. Many festivities are planned, with plenty of drinks, dancing & a Buuz Eating Competition - the winner will receive a character portrait from @hixxiart !

Notes: Reunion welcomes ALL tribes and non-Xaela. Please dress in formal tribal attire. No fighting or hostility will be tolerated as per Reunion rules.

When? 24th February at 4pm EST/9pm GMT

Where? Reunion, Azim Steppes

Server? Balmung

Contact Oyuu Dataq/Ajir Qalli for more information. We look forward to seeing you there! Join The Game of Dawn Thrones Discord for more Xaela roleplay news and shenanigans. 

What is Tsagaan Sar? 

One of the most important holidays for Mongolia, Tsagaan Sar is a holiday that celebrates the end of winter and serves to welcome a flourishing new year. It is the Year of the Dog this year. It is actually celebrated on the 16th February, but we’ll be hosting on the 24th for organizational reasons.

Families gather to renew and solidify ties, particularly between young and old, and to repay debts and resolve disagreements. People dress in traditional clothes, tell stories that transmit traditional knowledge, consume traditional dishes, play games, and practice customs that reinforce Mongolian identity, solidarity, and continuity.

We wanted to bring this tradition to the world of Xaela, bringing together tribes from all over the Azim Steppe to put aside grievances and celebrate peace whilst welcoming the New Lunar Year.

What will the event feature? First and foremost, it will mainly act as a celebratory gathering where Xaela and non-Xaela who wish to come to Reunion to mingle and wish each other a Happy New Year. We expect people to dress up in their best formal/tribal attire, and there will be plenty of food and drink to keep everyone happy. Plenty of opportunities to meet new people and meet up with acquaintances, a guaranteed good time! It’s a common tradition to eat a LOT of Buuz dumplings at Tsagaan Sar, so we will be hosting a Buuz Eating Competition some point during the event! Participate to fill your belly and potentially win a portrait from @hixxiart , examples of her work here and here!

Any things we should know before coming along? 

Xaela and non-Xaela alike are welcome! If your character can visit the Azim Steppes, they are most certainly welcome to come along and celebrate with us.

Please dress somewhat formally. If you are a Xaela, we encourage you to go wild with your fabulous tribal flair!

No hostility or fighting between tribes will be tolerated, as per rules of Reunion.

The event will be hosted by Ajir Qalli and his friends within Reunion and is not tied particularly to any tribe. Just bringing family and friends together in a peaceful setting!

[xaelapedia]

The Dataq

The Dataq cover quite possibly the most area in their migrations, for they rarely stop in one area for longer than a few bells. Sleeping is all done in the saddle, and tents are only used when the rains are heavy and unbearable. This is, however, less a hard rule and more an ideal for which they strive, even if they do indeed travel further and longer than any other tribe.

Set 1, worn by most tribe members:

Twinsilk Turban of Scouting - Undyed Ramie Poncho - Dark Blue Thavnairian Gloves - Undyed Ala Mhigan Bottoms of Gathering - Undyed True Griffin Caligae of Striking - Undyed Viability: 8/10 A combination that on its own cannot be used by the player. But this garb can be replicated on a scouting class by replacing the leg gear with the Nabaath Bottoms of Scouting left undyed, and the feet with the True Griffin Caligae of Scouting dyed Loam Brown. As the Ramie Poncho cannot be dyed, the body gear must instead be the Cashmere Poncho dyed Dark Blue. With a few creative liberties it is also possible to wear this as a striking class by using the original shoes and exchanging the bottoms for something similar such as the Riviera Slops in Pure White for males or the Bonewicca Wildling’s Sarouel. For a head piece with different detail but a similar style, a few types of bandana will work so long as they are dyed dark blue, such as the Pagos Bandana in Dark Blue. Player example: