Raspart is a harsh place, but only to those who do no know her. A cross between arid scrubland, desert and some thick jungle, it is home to many vicious beasts and few resources on the surface. Established community could never develop in such a harsh and untamed wild. The creatures of Raspart show this, with greatly larger bodies and impressive strength. Over 70% ar carnivourous, but the herbivores, in their defensive manouvres, are the most dangerous and are often avoided. A large amount of flora is spread about the land, mostly in the jungle where some flora have evolved into fauna, or in other words, man-eating plants. There are no true cities, but a large amount of small settlements which the inhabitants of the land move around to. The largest is known as Cale'On, the Motherhold. It is located on the side of a waterfall and the jungle and has a breathtaking view of the valley. It is used sparsely, as it embodies the spirit of Raspart itself. It is an unforgiving place, but only to those who do not know her.

Often called the Wildmen because of their behaviour and appearance, Udiin's people are actually called the Banora. They are quite similar to humans, but much taller, heavier built and often with horns and tails. They have a very primitive society, but are not as many believe so stupid. They know of smithing and other such practices, but favour living amongst the wild. They are fiercely territorial, full of passion and determination, but with room for love amongst their tribe and people.

The Banora excel physically in almost every way. Unfortunately, they are not as smart as other nations and are slightly xenophobic to anything outside Raspart. They are a nomad society and always live on the move. However, they are great lovers of history and record much of their past in rudimentary books and other things. They revere the land as their mother, and Udiin as their father, and worship both on a regular basis, as well as offerings of a hunt and crafts. They favour a great courage and strength among their people, and while not putting intelligence in high regard, still think it very useful to the people. They are split into 6 large tribes, but all of them share similar beliefs and values and work in harmony. There is no much time for war in such a harsh land after all, but there have been records of skirmishes in the past, often very vicious ones.

Udiin sat in the desert of Raspart, rolling some sort of flurescent clay-like goo in his hand. He watched it intently before making a fist and casting the substance onto the sand, where it quickluy disappeared underneath the sands. It seemed like by the time you map the Rasparian desert, it has already completely changed. He stood up and started moving through the place. He desired something to entertain him.

Udiin found himself stumbling across the deserts of Rasparta, finding himself deep within hidden sand-jungle filled with strange, blue-red cacti that dripped venom and the spider-snakes that crawled across that crossed above the jungle.

It was there, in that deepest jungle, surrounded by the humidity and the deadliness of the flora, that he saw the body. A dead Banora, killed by uncertain means. The stench of his body was terrible, and he was covered with flesh-eating hornets. There were no signs of a struggle, no other Banora about - or signs of their habitat - and the man himself had not been claimed by the predator-flora.

It was not so much a death that drew his attention, as did the presence of a corpse. No animal that could kill a Banora would just leave the body so whole and undevored, and even those who prefer the decomposed would have hidden it from others. It perplexed him, an oddity in the nature of this savage place. Udiin moved in closer, waving off some of the hornets so he could have a better look at the man. Perhaps his body would herald some clue as to his past.

Udiin examined the body, though he had very little luck in forcing the hornets to surrender their feast. He saw that the body, however, besides being fed upon, seemed relatively unharmed. Perhaps it was poisoned.. ?

It was very warm in the jungle.

Udiin snorted in disapproval at the hornet's unrelinquishing the body, but did not intervene further. Nature would do what it would. He left the insects to their meal and thought more over the matter. The thought of a poison did cross his mind, but no natural one did seem likely. If venom was used, the animal still would have dragged it away, and even if it was killed, it would show more signs of a struggle. Which meant that the most likely candidate for a suspect would be another Banora. They could make a poison, but why they would slay their brother was beyond him. He searched the jungle for the nearest tribe he could locate.

Within the immediate vicinity Udiin could not find any other tribes of his people, the Banora. He sensed the closest one was just over six hours wander from his current position. He felt hot, charged within the jungle. The hornets buzzed and clicked approvingly of his presence - even insect-carrion knew of his right of Lord in this place.

He leered off in the direction of the camp. A good six hours away... how could a poisoned man run that far with something foul coursing through him. If he did succum to something, it had to have been close. The possibility of one Banora slaying another seemed dimmer now, but not completely out of possibility. "Agh, why does this bother me. Many die here, allowing the strong to survive. Why does this one man so startle my senses?" He said aloud as he walked through the jungle, keeping his charged power dormant. He had one last glance off at the body, most likely the hornets already had their way with its flesh. He gave a heavy exhale and walked back towards the desert. If the matter crossed his path once more, he would purse it. For now, he desired the sands beneath him.

The sand was blisteringly hot, the sun blindingly bright, and small insects and arachnids scurried out of Udiin's way as he walked. He soon came upon a small oasis, the central body of water shining in the sun. A small tribe of thirteen Banora had made their home at this watering hole, and the elder wise man came to see his Lord.

"It is the Spirit of the Sands," said the wise man. "I give him plenty; I give him all. His home is my home, my sustenance, water, shelter and blood his own. Thank you for visiting our home."

Udiin snorted as the man greeted him. However, finding followers was fortunate for him. He looked down on the man with four eyes which reflected like a pool of fresh blood under the sun. "Your greeting is acknowledged" He told the man whilst staring out over the sands. "This tribe numbers thirteen members, does it not? I would wonder if you could survive with only eleven" He said, looking back down on the man.

"I... do not quite understand what you mean," said the wise man, frowning softly. "We may be able to survive, but each of us fills a vital role.. it would be dangerous. The oasis is our greatest gift. Without it we could never have survived, even with double the numbers."

Udiin scowled. "The truly strong could survive despite whatever environment they are forced into" He snorted and crossed his arms. "I require a sacrifice. Two of your numbers should suffice for my needs. I don't have to tell you what honor those two will be bestowed with, nor shall your sacrifice be merely forgotten either" His eyes could cut deeper into the man's soul than any sword ever could.

"A.. sacrifice," said the wise man. He did not gulp, and his eyes did not widen; he did not shake. Nevertheless, Udiin knew that the man was consumed with fear. "My Lord.."

He stopped. Nodded.

"It is my great honour to give you two of our best, my Lord," said the wise man, and there was begging, a hidden torment, in his eyes.

Udiin snorted as the man bowed to him. "So are you waiting on?" He asked him emotionlessly.

"Of course," he said, bowing, and left to find the sacrifices.

He returned not long after. A youthful woman - of no older than seventeen, and quite beautiful - looked onto Udiin, and bowed. An elderly man stumbled behind her, primitive cane supporting him.

"This is my daughter, Iara," said the wise man. "She is to be the first. And my brother, Gopta," he grimaced, "Who offered himself to your service. If you will, my Lord.."

He stopped. Tears streamed down his face, and while the elderly man looked rather serene, Udiin could tell that the young woman was terrified.

"I would like to say goodbye to my family before they are taken. My Lord. Please."

Udiin growled. "...Do what you will to prepare, but I will not wait long" He said, waving at them and walking out a bit into the desert. He put a hand to his forehead and grumbled. "Of all the tribes, I had to find this one. No wonder they struggle if they're this compassionate and foolish"

After a small while, the meek daughter and elderly brother came out to meet their Lord in the sands.

"My Lord," the older man said, bowing. "How might we serve?"

Udiin looked out over the dunes for a bit. "Come. We've ground to cover" He said in a deep voice as he started to walk out into the desert. The desert of Raspart was greatly known for being ruthless, for the only thing worse than a deadly being, was a deadly environment. He travelled far over the sands until he reached a point he thought best. One of the bleakest points in the desert, harsh winds whipped by like razor blades and nothing living could be seen for miles. Not that much could be seen anyway, the sand on the fierce wind was so thick you could barely see a few feet in front of your face. It felt as if your flesh would simply peel off if you stood here for too long. "This is it" He said, picking up some of the sand beneath him.

"I see," said the young woman, and it was plainly obvious that she didn't. The elderly man only smiled at his Lord, prepared to follow him even to the Rivers of Death.

"This place is pure. Nothing to interrupt our machinations" He stated, looking over to the old man. "It is time for you to fulfill your role. Step forward, old one" He readied a claw, its massive talons gleaming over the dry desert, they practically being sanded down to an even finer edge by the sandstorm whipping around the three of them. Udiin gained much from the blood of others. In this way, even the most feeble of creatures could serve him well.

The old man showed no fear, only a solemn knowledge of what was to come. He smiled slightly as the young woman beside him shook with fear.

"My Lord," he said.

Udiin glanced over the old man, the raised his arm. A brief moment of silence passed, the only sound being of the wind whipping about. Then, Udiin struck. He thrust his arm foward, his gleaming claws travelling towards and finally into the old man with alarming speed. He removed his claw, looking over the crimson liquid his hands would now be covered in. "With this, the ritual can begin" He said, kneeling down and beginning to draw a strange pattern on the ground in blood; a circle by which he could enact unearthly forces beyond the reckoning of mortals. "I suggest you avert your eyes, young one" He told the woman, finishing up drawing the circle. He began to recite an incantation, one in a dialect that seemed as impossible to say as to hear. "...Aventi~ Reveal to me the events of the jungle... reveal the secrets of the past in thine ritual circle and reveal the fate of the man that now lies bereft of life in my domain"

(I assume you're running Ritual Circle, and I'll assess your magical performance based on your Divinity alone instead of Shamanism/Sorcerous Power.)

Udiin had sacrificed his servant for knowledge; the old man had died for the act. At the sacrifice, the young woman had gasped and gone an ashy pale. She averted her eyes at his command.

The circle was gone, intricate and wonderfully twisting, and was empowered by the blood. There was a small flicker of red light within the circle, a ripple in the air as whatever spirits nearby were caught within the circle, and Udiin saw..

He saw the birth of the man, the death of a mother. Smoke-filled huts, a crescent moon. Playing with the scorpions. Obtaining their knowledge.. a youth spent in study and contemplation. Poisons, antidotes, herbs and powders. He killed a man. They never knew. Poison. He grew elder, became the village's holy man at a remarkably young age. Could speak to the spirits.. and was enraptured.. saw the coming of the Spirit of the Sands. An entire village, poisoned. No survivors. Three students.. the crafty, the honest, the lustful. All graduated. The crafty took his place. Battle of sorcery against the sand-witch of Navaah.. a win, at a cost - knowledge. He remembered nothing of the old art..

The Lord had come. He was dead. A life encapsulated in a few seconds of vision.