NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Quickleaf" data-source="post: 4464735" data-attributes="member: 20323">Sounds like a good fit - that would place them near the Free Cities, and would certainly change those areas! It would make sense that the Mamluks then expand from Qudra to Liham and Umara to act as a buffer against the encroaching Tuigan army. Then a truce is signed when the Tuigan leader recognizes the Enlightened Faith, and soon after Tuigan caliphs are recognized in the Free Cities.I've done some brainstorming on a tiefling backstory - it's quite long. I'd love some feedback on this and the other races.[sblock=Tieflings - People of God's Kindness]The people of what would become the Haunted Lands once lived in a verdant plain, but they were a divided people, their cities and tribes constantly in a state of war. Among them there was a sultan whose heart yearned for peace, but his people were beleaguered on all sides by warring tribes and feuding cities. His vizier was very old and learned in the ways of divination, and so the sultan asked: “How may I best bring peace to the land?” Without hesitation, the vizier spoke with a voice as smooth as honey: “My great liege, I have foreseen that success will follow you and your descendants in battle. The people need a strong leader, one to unite them, but their hearts are filled with contention. Thus, only war will bring the peace you seek.” Though his heart was heavy, the sultan donned his armor and sword and he set about conquering first the neighboring tribe, and then a city, and another. Smoke and wailing followed the sultan wherever he went, but it was as his vizier said, none could stand against him. He became a warlord, vicious and merciless, certain his campaign would lead to a lasting peace. While inspecting his spoils after beheading a rebellious general he found an old scroll which told of the City of Peace wherein whatever one wished would be granted. Again he asked of his vizier: “I have learned of the City of Peace, and I am troubled…I began this war to unify the land, but now the peoples’ hearts turn against me. I did the best I could, but is there another way to peace? I must find the City of Peace even if it costs me my life.” But his vizier, with affected sorrow, warned the sultan that it could not be so: “Already another seeks the City of Peace, and he would use its power to bury you and your family in the dust. There is only one way to stop him from reaching it – you must slay the riders of the gray grass down to the last one, for only they know how to find the city. Thus will the secret of the City of Peace never be discovered.” Weeping, the sultan spent the night in prayer asking forgiveness. “None but my soul will bear the burden of what must be done”, he said to his soldiers. At last he was resolved, and he donned his armor and sword and tracked down the riders to their oasis; though the fighting was vicious and the sultan wounded many times, he killed every rider and the revered mystic who led them. Bloody sword in hand, he heard someone behind him and whirling about saw a young boy, just seven years of age with tears in his eyes. Unable to strike the boy, the sultan struggled to his mount and rode back to his palace where he collapsed in a daze. When he awoke the sultan found himself alone in his bedchamber with the vizier. “I have done as you said, they are dead,” he told the vizier. But the vizier drew forth a dark orb and spoke magic words and thereupon appeared the image of a lordly ruler in a white aba swearing vengeance upon the one who killed the gray riders. The sultan turned away, overwhelmed by sickness. “My liege,” said the vizier, “even I cannot protect the land from the great magic this fool unleashes. Though you were unable to kill the boy, you have succeeded at conquering tribes and cities alike – you could have founded an empire! Alas, it will never come to pass. Your children and your children’s children will be forgotten, buried in the sands of time.”Despairing the sultan pleaded. “Is there nothing I can do to spare them this grim fate?”“One thing yes,” whispered the vizier, “but it requires a great sacrifice.”“Yes! If it means my life, all my wealth, I would give anything to the gods!” Implored the sultan.“Not the gods, precisely,” smiled the vizier, pouring a goblet of amber wine. “My terms are this: Serve me as I have served you and all your children shall be my slaves. Agree to this and I shall protect your family from the destroying storm that bears down as we speak.” The vizier held the goblet of wine forth.Hand trembling, the sultan took the goblet in his hand and was horrified to discover it was filled not with wine, but with blood! “What dark sorcery is this?” He demanded.Eyes flashing with otherworldly might, the vizier hissed at the sultan as a burst of wind flung the windows open, casting sand into the room. “The storm is upon us. Now drink if you wish them to live!”Murmuring a prayer, the sultan drank the goblet of blood. Veins of infernal fire rushed through him and the sultan collapsed in agony. The sultan shook as his form changed and hatred filled his heart. At last he collapsed, weeping.Smiling, the vizier stood over the sultan, abandoning his mortal guise to reveal a fearsome shaitan with curving ram horns and burning eyes. “Until the end of time, your children shall bear my mark...”[/sblock]</blockquote>

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