burkhanlig

[burkhanlig]

Pultic Crow ;

         Vezely’s chin raises as she stews in thought over the tentative campaign. She is aware of Kravod’s current state of dilapidation. Its decay arguably began after the fall of the Putlai and the splitting of the realm into three kingdoms. Kravod remained the capital of the realm of Narimanush, but its power dwindled, and its funds slowly ran dry. Upon its transition under the Jhangovar tribe, corruption plagued its leadership and led to further neglect of its infrastructure. It now sits forgotten in the Great Khaganate despite its infamous past.

         Upon mention of the cult, the estranged emissary stiffens her posture, finding discomfort amid the reflection — even if she grew to hold the highest esteem for its members and was in their debt for her survival, it was not always so. When she held some worth among the Pultai, she often found the cult and its requests meddling and unwise, especially when it came to coin.

         ❝There was only one Dark Lord,❞ she counters politely, lips slanting in mild amusement over the question (and in a desire to disregard the past tense she must use). ❝It is others who created his many faces and skewed his truth. For the Pultai, it is true we acknowledged him as our War-God, Maladûm, and for him, we crossed the Anduin. But we also knew the Northmen called him the Necromancer — The Shadow of Dol Guldur. But they were not afforded an audience with him as our own. Only fear were they so graciously bestowed. As for the cult,❞ she realizes she went on a tangent, so she cycles back. ❝They held power in the council. More than might be considered wise for Kravod’s growing infrastructure.❞

         — “I understand” — Margöz said. The influence of the ecclesiastical power was nothing unrelated to what he lived day to day since he had become the religious and political leader that he was. Flatterers (whom he secretly hated), spewed out words soaked in honey just to gain the favor of the one they themselves had chosen, granting him more power even than themselves, and sometimes, he thought, than he should have. Sometimes the democratic ways of his own religion were a bit strange to him.

         However, the great capital of the Pultai dynasty, Kravod, remained a mystery to unravel. Where had these followers of the Cult of Shadow come from? He knew that this doctrine had been born in the ancestral land of Kykurian Kyn, but how had that crooked root that crawled between the crooked forks of the pagan paths of the dynasty that at some point dominated much of the central steppe seen the light? of Middle Earth?

         —“In Dorwinion they called him The Dread God. In Khand he was known under the pseudonym Thûmraki, but in the end, Maladûm was one.“— Said the Lôke-Khan, implying that he had understood her point perfectly. — "Sorry if I don’t get out of my astonishment for the things you are telling me.” — He said, almost sincere, almost without being able to hide that smile that appeared at the corner of his lips, as if he was a child in a toy store, of those that abounded in the square of the northern district of Mistrand, where the carpenters manufactured humanoid dolls with small pieces of wood.

         —“Religious beliefs can be a great means of control, if you allow me to be honest”. — Margöz commented as he dyed his lips violet again from the wine coming from the vicinity of the fertile bay of Dacranamel.

          Years were wasted, shifting her way out of the hot sands of Near-Harad. She was there to collect her life’s savings which consisted of a mound of gold and silver ingots contracted to be safely stowed in the great banking institutes of the Dar. The hope, however, was squandered when discovered that all holdings of Mordor’s clients were dissolved by order of Gondor’s new king immediately after the war. And if any of these clients come calling, they were to be arrested on sight and extradited. She barely escaped the Dar with her life, and here on the outskirts of Mistrand and in the company of Sauron’s former worshippers, she feels no less safe. All of Mordor’s former emissaries, if they survived, have prices on their heads, and the purse is high enough to interest any mercenary from here to the eastern horizon.

          As a collective, the present company does not need coin – but as a bargaining chip, the new member might hold some purpose. If handed over to the Lôke-Khan as a sign of good will, would not a former emissary of Mordor then make a wise offering of assurance to the Western king? This makes the Lôke-Khan’s appearance at a requested council (one purposefully left out of the agenda and thus to her knowledge), so troubling. Form, which appears lither than before the war, tries to slink away, but eyes, also stripped of their former sharpness, meet the dragon leader’s before she knows it. She can go nowhere now without her existence being known. // @burkhanlig

#vezely #v: Last Dragon Alive #((Can't remember what were we talking about #But I also promised that I would not drop any threads! #I'll try to be more active!))

[burkhanlig]

Free Map: Sutrlûrza Khand

I made this for my MERP Campaign, but you can adapt it to yours as long as you need a Middle-Eastern/Arabic styled city. Tools used: Age of Empires II Definitive Edition’s map editor + Adobe Photoshop CS6 for merging and final details.

You can download the full image (98 MB - 16439x8379 pixels) clicking here.

#In case you wondered what I was doing lately...

[burkhanlig]

moodboard: Başkurdistan

#♦ || We write our history with blood and salt (ᴛʀɪʙᴀʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ) ||

[burkhanlig]

𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂   𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄     .

bold what applies.       italicize what sometimes applies.   repost don’t reblog.

i.     𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀 .     cold to the touch.  flickering candles.  cold breath upon your neck.  billowing white gowns.  midnight strolls.  pearl trimmed bands.  indulging in your deepest desires.  the fall from grace. the fear of outsiders.  bloodstained sheets.  dark imaginations.  something lurking in the shadows.  the urge to run away. glowing eyes in the darkness.  the scent of garlic. preying on the weak.  the power to both bring and take life.

ii.     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 .     old bookshelves.  kisses on the hand. a devotion to the finer things in life.  prizing youth and beauty above all. paying the ultimate price. the pursuit of pleasure.  blood red sins painted over in white snow.  a drug-induced stupor. breaking the heart of the one you love. losing what’s left of your humanity.

iii.      𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 .     frantic sketches.  the stench of something rotten.  unorthodox beliefs. a scream from the woods. candles burning out. dangerous knowledge. contemplating existence. the crunch of leaves. the chill of winter in your bones. dark ambitions.  prometheus reborn.  the contrast between life and death.

iv.      𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎 .     false accusations.  taking justice into your own hands.  divine justice.  elaborate schemes.  playing upon others’ weaknesses. the solitude of the ocean. an ever-changing identity. dissatisfaction in your life.  an alienation from humanity. escaping from prison.

TAGGED BY: @vezely TAGGING: @elrchir​, @sungruin​, @tinuviele​, @velkaya​, @maladum​, @showmeahero​

#♦ || Just another stallion born under a december moon (ᴀᴇsᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄs) ||

[burkhanlig]

So... basically what happened was that a few months ago, my external drive where I was saving all my work and the texts about the book I was writing (kind of sourcebook about Rhûn and the Easterlings) got broke. Some things were posted here but still most of my work is gone and I have to do it again. That caused me a terrible writer’s block and a great sadness to write again (plus I have to re-make all my icons) and that was the main reason why I was not so active. But I don’t give up on Margöz and all the work I have put on this character. I will have to fix some things, but I’ll return. I don’t know exactly when, but I will. Cheers! 

~R.-

#activity update #♦ || Out of chariots (ᴏᴏᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

fleading personality traits |

Below the surface everyone is pretty complicated. Based on your answers, we think the following three traits are important strands in your personality:

RATIONALITY

You like clarity and intelligent simplicity and you get frustrated at messy thinking. This can make you seem unreasonably pushy to some, but it is actually a virtue: you are motivated by a horror at pointless effort and a longing for precision and insight into how things and people work. Your ability to synthesise and bring order is essential in producing thinking which is truly helpful.

ORDERLINESS

You love it when everything is neat and tidy: when there is a proper way of doing things, and you can tick things off the to-do list and know where everything is. So others, at times, are to you unbearably sloppy and messy. And you run into things that can’t be ordered (a child, a partner, a colleague at work) which drives you slightly nuts. But your desire for order is a good one when it is focussed where it is needed and when you’re okay with a bit of mess.

RESILIENCE

You have a tendency, after a setback, to turn your emotions towards restriving. What attracts you is the idea of wiping out a humiliation by resumed action – overcoming weakness, repressing your fear. Because part of your motive is pride, you can sometimes be unwilling to admit weakness or to receive aid. But at heart, tour insistence on coming back and never folding has taught you a valuable pessimism: you know that important journeys are never easy. 

Tagged by: @vezely​ ( thanks! I know I’m dissapeared... ) Tagging: @durnaar​, @showmeahero​, @emznur​, @velkaya​, @fairestfall​ and anyone else~

#♦ || Never laugh at live dragons (ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs) || #♦ || Even dragons need a break once in awhile (ᴍᴇᴍᴇs) || #((Yeah; I'm not dead. #I just need to re-make all my icons because my hard disk broke... #I'll return someday))

[burkhanlig]

This is just an “I’m alive” signal for you all. Lately I have been with a lot of freelance work, managing a festival that took place yesterday that was absolutely great, and some other life things that are taking my free time. Also I'm dealing with a writer’s block in all sences, not only in RP (I write for a magazine in my country and I can’t write without feeling I’m forcing myself to do it), but things should calm down a little in the next weeks, I didn’t forget any of you and I know I owe replies and I promise they will be done, I'm not droping any thread I have. Until my return, have a stupid munday picture. Peace.

~R.-

#; munday #; munface #; activity announcement tag #♦ || Out of chariots (ᴏᴏᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

Ok, it was shorter than expected. :)

From tomorrow on I’ll lose my internet permits again. I’ll not be around until I recover them. Sometimes this takes a week… Sometimes more. I will let you know when that’s finished. Meanwhile, I’ll be on hiatus.

#Activity announcement tag ; #♦ || Out of chariots (ᴏᴏᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

From tomorrow on I’ll lose my internet permits again. I’ll not be around until I recover them. Sometimes this takes a week... Sometimes more. I will let you know when that’s finished. Meanwhile, I’ll be on hiatus.

#Activity announcement tag ; #♦ || Out of chariots (ᴏᴏᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

#; munday #; munface #((with Tuca #my mom's doggo))

[burkhanlig]

High as fuck Walking Corpse ;

*A danger?“ Yes, she could easily be, a flick of her sword and she’d watch his head roll into the endless waves of the Lake. But it was not so simple, she was in his domain and after all, she was a decent person with morals-relatively.

"Danger only comes to those who seek her.” She replied, raising her hands in an over-gestured show of innocence.

As she followed him she wondered how long his people had been occupying Esgaroth, they certainly looked and sounded different from the others. The lives of men were short, but they burned feverishly like a flame eager to devour it’s wick. In two decades the old people here would be accustomed to their new rulers, and in three a new occupier would capture the trading town once more-it was only the blink of an eye to her.

“You are unsettled, yes?” She, the tall lithe figure tilted her head at the question. “Perhaps it is because the moon is in full? Spirits walk when lunar light is high, I watch them brush past you.”

        "The feeling of danger can be exciting sometimes ... But it is my duty to prevent that excitement from spreading to the people. Okay, follow me." --- The Guard said and turned on his feet enough to have a sideways view of his companion and know that he would not die impaled by a dagger in his neck.

         They passed through the west pier, the warehouse and the mint, beyond the starting point of the quadrant known as the Trout’s Well, a small maritime area where schools of fish abounded. Some night fisherman hidden in the shadows of his own hunger was the only presence besides the guard and his enshrouded companion. Margöz watched her, she was slender and he imagined that under that black cloak was a delicate but strong figure. She walked with difficulty as if it were a wounded gazelle, he could not imagine what problem she could have gotten herself into.

         The young Wainrider could not help laughing at her last comment --- "Are you drugged or something? If so, could you share a bit of your narcotics? You see, there are nights that are very boring and if I can converse with ghosts it would be better." --- He mocked --- "We are already close." --- He said as they turned in a narrow alley.

#ramblingsofamoonwatcher #v: Tyrant of the East #((Sorry for the delay! :) ))

[burkhanlig]

Ruler of the World ;

      the  ambition  in  him  was  burning  as  fast  as  a  fire  consuming  the  dry  grasses  in  the  middle  of  summer.   and  even  though  ambition  should  be  ruled  for  this  fire  can  bring  him  to  naught.   it  was  true ,  he  was  a  mortal  and  she  a  spirit  with  material  shape.   but  immortality  was  not  a  gift ,  it  was  a  curse  when  it  comes  to  living  a  life  full  of  nothing  but  wars  &  bloodshed.   for  even  when  sauron  had  taken  her  ring  back  and  almost  the  entire  continent  was  under  her  dominion ,  she  knew  that  war  has  not  ended.   visions  she  received  but  blurred  they  were.   when  her  lord  comes  out  from  of  void  a  war  will  begin ,  a  war  for  dominance  &  revenge.   but  even  if  her  master  doesn't  return ,  her  siblings  will  come ,  led  by  the  winged  herald ,  who  will  try  everything  to  bring  her  down  and  take  her  head.   &  thus  her  future  was  as  unknown  as  was  his.   nobody  have  the  ability  to  fully  know  their  future ,  even  those  who  were  born  with  privileges.

                                                                           ‘     remember   how   far   you’ve   come,   and   you   won’t   have   to   rely   on   a   destiny   for   your   future.   it   will   come   on   your   own .     ’

      with  slight  steps  the  dark  lord  approached  the  dragon-ruler , the  radiance  of  her  golden  eyes  reflected  in  his  armor.   even  when  she  didn't  give  him  a  precise  answer ,  she  already  had  something  in  mind ,  that  she  hid  behind  the  small  smirk  that  formed  on  her  pale  face.   after  all  margöz  was  the  only  one  that  succeeded  in  getting  back  what  was  hers  and  so  her  blessing  he  deserved.   sauron  carefully  placed  her  right  hand  on  his  shoulder  as  a  sign  of  support ,  her  three  metal  fingers  rattled  on  the  metal  that  was  protecting  him.

                                               ‘     with   a   decision   and   a   defined   purpose ,   you   can   begin   work.   now ,   go   and   rest ,   and   if   it   is   written   to   meet   again ,   we   will.      ’

     &  after  these  words  the  dark  lord  hit  the  ground  with  her  sceptre ,  opening  the  heavy  metal  doors  slowly  and  behind  them  stood  four  courtiers.   they  were  paler  than  her  majesty  for  they  were  not  human  beings  and  their  skin  had  never  met  the  sun.   the  men  would  have  escorted   the  lôke-khan  to  the  iron  gates  and  there ,  one  of  them  would  give  the  khan  two  papyruses  covered  in  wolf  skin ,  one  of  them  written  with  prayers  of  the  black  speech  and  the  other  represented  a  list  of  requirements  he  had  to  fulfill  so  the  dark  lord  could  be  able  to  help  when  needed.   he  will  have  to  estimate ,  which  tribe  he  will  first  decide  to  attack ,  describe  in  detail  when  and  how ,  investigate  the  slightest  detail  of  the  sort  of  whether  they  sleep  in  leather  tents  or  wooden  constructions ,  what  is  the  soil  and  the  weather  in  the  given  area  and  the  number  of  the  tribe.

        It was one thing to live under the wing and protection of Lady Sauron, and quite another to live under its shadow like a pantomime orchestrated under its own laurels. The Dragon Ruler preferred the first to the second; He had never aspired to be a God, nor someone remembered for his power and glory, but for instilling the love of the peoples of the steppe to consolidate a great nation that united them all under one same purpose and for that he needed options that were beyond physical violence. He preferred to persuade than to attack, although sometimes this was inevitable, especially with certain proud and conservative leaders who continued clinging to banal and empty beliefs as a chasm which did not allow them to see beyond a few meters of distance in the long path of the economic, cultural and social progress of the tribe they commanded.

         Margöz looked up once more and thought as the Ruler of the World began to shadow his figure with her tall and imposing silhouette. Yes, he had come far. But not precisely in the wittiest way. The dragon's diplomatic face must sometimes be hidden to channel his fury. It was so that many of these conflicts were resolved by the sword, blood and smoke, as the threat of the Hazga, the Rahiwenna and the Corsairs of the Inland Sea. There were still towns and cities beyond the Talathrant River to seduce or subjugate.

         Although his armor protected his shoulders, the mere rose of those white cadaverous fingers on the metal of his armor made him vibrate. The leader of the Great Khaganate sighed at her words. He thought that by his stubbornness things could have been much worse, but the Queen of the World was generous with those who served her well, and he had served ... - "So I will do it. My Lady…" - he said then, saying goodbye and bowing respectfully.

         When the thud of the opening of gates reached his ears, the Lôke-Khan turned on his feet and headed for the exit of that mortuary room escorted by the ghosts of flesh and bone that had taken him to the throne chamber in a beginning. He knew that her Majesty was watching him on his way, he felt her eyes burn on his back even when they closed behind him.

         Margöz did not expect it was what happened next when the herald of terror handed him the two writings: the form and the clauses. When he finished reading both, a half smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. Without waiting for it, things had taken an unexpected turn.

         It was a new beginning, and there was work to be done.

#durnaar #v: Tides of Darkness #((Congratulations anyway!! #Ok; I think this one is done?))

[burkhanlig]

#this is how heavy metal music would sound in a modern Rhûn #♦ || Let the mortal heroes sing our fame (ᴍᴜsɪᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

Lost walking corpse ;

Hithfaeril sneered, admittedly more enraged by the meaningless words of a human than she should have been. Her hands, wrapped up in mittens to fend off the biting cold tugged at her cloak, ensuring that the soaked fabric warded off the new falling rain.

“This is what you call a warehouse then?” Casually she glanced back at the large wooden building, she knew what it was. “Hmm, I suppose that makes sense. You see, I am easily lost, everything in your town of Men looks the same to me.” She held his gaze, though her eyes were still shrouded. “This was not the destination I was looking for. I am trying to find the Inn I am staying at. I do not suppose you could direct me there?”

        The presence of nocturnal prowlers was common in that quarter of the city. But generally these were male, and they were not shrouded from head to toe. The young Wainrider had every reason to suspect the person in front of him. Although he could not see her eyes, the paleness of her skin formed a translucent silhouette in the darkness, almost as if it was bathed in the moon, or touched by death itself.

        --- "There is no inn in this quadrant of the city." --- he said sharply --- "Town of Men? And what are you? A dog?" --- He said raising an eyebrow in mockery ---"I guess I should escort you. I can not allow someone armed like you to walk through the city at night. You are a danger to anyone."

#ramblingsofamoonwatcher #v: Tyrant of the East

[burkhanlig]

#rediscovering this masterpiece #♦ || Let the mortal heroes sing our fame (ᴍᴜsɪᴄ) ||

[burkhanlig]

Easily offended walking corpse ;

“I have seen walking corpses and spirits and I do not interfere. It is better not to bother the undead, they have their own agendas.” She sheathed her blade, but not because his announcement of being a guard held any weight to her. Her arm ached, the wound in her shoulder throbbing, making her stomach churn with sickly pain.

It had only stopped for a moment, the heavy sleet began to pour down once more.

“So tell me, young guard, of what benefit is it to your city of trade and market to threaten and be hostile towards a foreigner?”

        --- "And you pretend that I believe all that, isn’t it?" --- the vein of his skepticism towards the supernatural themes began to beat with nervous impulse. 'The dead don’t roam in winter', said an old saying. For him no season was suitable for such unexplainable event.

        He took a step forward while adjusting the button on his coat. His breathing formed volatile and ephemeral clouds of steam in the cold air of that gelid night only illuminated by dying oil lamps and frozen stars. 

        --- "Threaten?” --- Margöz said somewhat annoyed --- "Sorry, little snowflake. I did not know you were going to be offended by that comment. I'll reformulate the question, what were you doing wandering in the warehouse of the west pier at this time of night?"

#ramblingsofamoonwatcher #v: Tyrant of the East #((Right; I could never RP using my phone; ha!))

[burkhanlig]

#have you ever read a lyrics and said this shit is talking about me!! ? #current mood 101% #♦ || Let the mortal heroes sing our fame (ᴍᴜsɪᴄ) ||