Bractos

“Far to the West and many moons past, in a place seen by few from these Eastern lands I was born. By Eastern reckoning it would have been 338 years after Lanival.” Bractos stands up from the table, allowing a glimpse of several matching and well worn hilts beneath his cloak. “While I was a child the lands of my people, the Rakash, fell under attack by undead created and controlled by the human necromancer, Lyras. After many battles, my Dzirta, or pack, fell under attack just as Katamba was waxing full – not unlike tonight’s moon. A mere cub, I had been cornered by two of Lyras’s foul animations. I was using both hands to swing a small blade I had been given, and recall little else. I do remember, however, watching those beasts fall as one of my uncles fought his way through to me, threw me on his back, and yelled at me to not let go. He ran for miles and miles, myself and another cub clinging to his back. Lyras’s undead did not have the speed and stamina of live Rakash, especially not in moonskin.

“My uncle had run far to one of several pre-arranged rendevous points in the event of an attack such as had occurred. The plan, and hope, was that several meeting points would help ensure the survival of the Dzirta, though at the cost of dividing it. No other of my immediate family had reached this point, but we could neither go back nor contact the other groups directly as all had agreed. Many young warriors were with us, and we made our way Eastward through our ancestral lands, sometimes skirting Lyras’s minions, sometimes destroying them. Lyras’s grip appeared to weaken the more Eastward we traveled, and we fell in with other Rakash and even Prydean who were departing Eastward as well.”

Bractos draws a pair of blades and leans them against a nearby sofa, taking a seat next to them. He looks at the night sky through a high window, “in the West my Dzirta was known for its warriors. Our golden eyes also were said to be a blessing from Mrod in remembrance of Katamba’s brilliance, and were a great source of pride.” Bractos fixes you with a soulful stare that seems far different than that of a human. Drawing his cloak over his features, he looks back to the window, and his hands find folds deep within his cloak. “Although I live by the moon, I am no mage bending his neck at the heavens. Since coming to the East I am one of the Eastern guild of Barbarians, in my tongue Varvar.” This last guttural word is drawn out as Bractos lurches off the couch and to his knees.

A long silence is broken finally by the sliding of one of the bone-hilted blades now behind Bractos. But before it strikes the ground, without looking, Bractos reaches back and stops its fall. Your thoughts that his hand looked somehow different are interrupted when he stands and faces you, his cloak falling away from his features. Where there had been a human face, there is a proud wolfen visage and jaws, only the same eyes are watching you. “Since Grazhir’s destruction blackened the face of Katamba we take our true form only when it is full.” You watch as Bractos tail sways emphasizing his words. “But enough of this, you wanted to know about my history in these lands.

“As I mentioned, I came here with other Rakash when we were forced to leave our lands by the scourge of the human necromancer Lyras. Much of my adolescence was not hunting on ancestral Rakash land, but was traveling farther and farther away from those lands. It was, however, fine training for a warrior; training I have continued here in the East until I can join in avenging my people against Lyras.

“I reached these lands in 357 after Lanival, and joined the Barbarian guild. My brethren have spread about through other guilds more suited to their style of fighting. Since eighteen years of age I have trained to one day be able to defeat Lyras. Over the years I have visited most parts of these Eastern lands and seen many of its people. No place other than the West is my home, but I have spent considerable time in the Northern Province of Therengia. I found many there who work together – perhaps the closest other races can come to a Rakash Dzirta.

Last Revised: 06/27/03