Part of the Mil Tanor Realm, the Otan plains are a rolling sea of grass
that seems to go on into forever. Wandering herds of sandy colored Erd
and firemanes are often the only signs of life in this vast and lonely
land. Still, two races of people have chosen to settle under the vast skies
of Otan. The strange giant Centrans who live in the far south and the silent,
mounted Otan plainsmen.
The History of Otan
The Otan are a people of closely guarded secrets and mystery. Little
is known about them or their history until they were defeated by the third
invasion of the horde. They mounted a viscous rebellion of their own and
did not directly join in the Great Expulsion.
After the Anasar hordes had been pushed from the continent, the Otan claimed their lands and vowed never to be conquered by force again. Soon after the Tanor quietly moved in an annexed the land by right of conquest, pointedly ignoring the native Otan. The first attempts to farm the land led to bloody conflicts between settlers and Otan. The Triglomerate soon intervened; realizing that they could never hope to hold the territory without creating a race of caravan raiders and bandits.
A compromise treaty was quickly drawn up, defining the Otan plains as property of the Tanor, but inhabited by the Otan. The Otan would provide three regiments of cavalry along with a tax of meat, animals and furs was levied as rent. The Tanor then withdrew, feeling satisfied that they had successfully exploited the natives by letting them do all the work while reaping all the benefits. The Otan were simpley pleased that the Tanor agreed to leave peacfully.
But not all felt that way. A few Otan dislike what they saw to be the pacify and subservience of their people and have took to raiding Tanor villages and patrols along the border. The Tanor's response to the raiders has been brutal, but they have kept their promise and leave all other Otan affairs to themselves.
They are a tall thin people with skins tanned to the colour of soft leather. They dress in loose hide clothing decorated in feathers, beads and pigments. Boys and girls are shaved bald until they come of age. For girls this it soon after the onset of puberty and are allowed to grow a single braid. Once they are married a second braid can be worn. Boys do not come of age until they have proven their manliness with a physical act. Most brake a wild Firemane or kill a predator after the herd. For the raiders this usually means killing a Tanor soldier. Once a man the boy is allowed to begin to grow his beard, usually in a goatee. The man are allowed by the tribe to place one braid in their beard for every extraordinary act of bravery.
They are brilliant animal trainers and herdsmen and their stocks are
in heavy demand across the continent.
Customs
The Otan are a nomadic people who wander the northern half of the plains,
following their semi-domesticated herds of Erd, Firemane and taranters.
They rarely settle down for a few nights, erecting only small tents that
can be packed and moved quickly.
The centre of the Otan's existence are the animals under their care. The warriors who protect and train them, to the women who care for and feed the herders. At birth a baby's first drink is Erd's milk and as soon as they can walk, they begin to help with the herding and milking of the tribes.
They never speak to outsiders, instead they communicate to non-Otan with a simple sign language that every trader in Lal Sot knows fluently. Even in their own tribes they rarely speak to other than close family or friends. They rarely try and make friends with outsiders, but if their trust can be won they remain loyal for life. This is combined with a rigid sense of honor and vendetta that does not allow them to forgive an insult or injury until they extract an exact revenge. If the revenge is deserved and honorable then the offense is considered forgotten and neither party is allowed to pursue the matter any further.
They place importance on survival skills and self reliance, feeling
that the only person upon whom you can truly depend is the individual.
Every Otan is trained in the skills necessary to survive in the wild. The
year after they gain their beard or braid, the young Otan is sent
from the tribe and must spend a year alone on the great plain. Some decide
never to return and take up a life of wandering across the continent.
The Otan Raiders
The raiders take pride in their history. They see themselves as the
reason the Anasar hordes where pushed back across the ocean. When they
were free of the Hordes they had hoped that they would finally be free,
but soon the Tanor armies marched into the middle of their home and herds.
The raiders are the decendants of the Otan who refused to submit to the
new rule. They attack Tanor outposts along the border, occasionally mounting
enough troopers to risk a quick raid through Lal Sot. Tanor patrols actively
for the rebels but the raiders know the plains like no other and are indistingusiable
from loyal plainsmen.
The Plainsland
Covering from the north bank of the Otan river to the western hills
of Mil Tanor, the plains are a vast open field filled with tall grasses
and grazing animals of all sorts; firemanes, monocrons, ramhorns, erd and
land lizards all feed on the tall grasses and plentiful plants. They are
in turn preyed upon by the thylaine, firedrakes and the Otan.
The Otan River
Called the ‘River of Life' by the Otan, this wide and slow moving river
winds its way down from the Kilan mountains, through the heart of the Otan
plains before becoming violent and emptying into the Crimson Sea. Lined
by tall marshes, the river becomes nearly invisible during the spring and
summer with the clouds of insects that swarm above the reeds.
It provides the only reliable source of fresh water for travelers as
large mineral deposits under the soil often taint the thousands of small
pools and streams that dot the landscape. In the summer the only two ways
across are the Centran Forge to the north and the Otan Bridge to the south,
but in the winter, both Otan and Centran tribes come across the ice to
trade.
Strange and remote, these powerful giants are subjects of the Tanor for all the same reasons as the Otan. They pay their taxes and offer warriors for the Tanor armies in exchange for being left alone under the great blue skies of the Otan plains.
They are a giant people, nine to ten feet tall with heavy physique and legs that resemble the hind legs of an equs, reared up like some colossal satyr. Their legs are covered in hard, colorful scales and are often painted or decorated in a wide variety of patterns. They also have a long and luxurious tail, the color of hair on their head, that they decorate with ribbons beads and jewelry.
Their feet are cloven, not clawed and they can deliver extremely powerful
blows that will disable or kill a man instantly. They are a peaceful people,
little concerned with the outside world.
Customs
The Centrans live in peaceful coexistence with their environment, hunting
only to supplement their steady diet of grasses and shoots. They don't
build homes or permanent shelters, only brightly colored wagons that they
pull themselves. They never wear clothing, but often die their skin in
regular patterns and brightly decorate their hair and tails. They do not
grow crops or cultivate livestock, but they do follow the herds, watching
over them and dealing swiftly with greedy hunters.
They frequently trade with the Otan and Tanor, occasionally making their way to Lal Sot. Trading in furs and rare herbs for metal tools and utensils.
The Centran's voice, even when speaking basic Tanorian, is punctuated by snorts and whinnies, often giving inexperienced merchants the impression that the giants are slow-witted, a mistake that often results in a cheated, and angry giant storming through their shop. Many Tanor tax collectors in particular have learned that lesson the hard way.
The biggest fear in a Centran's life is captivity. Parthenians and rogue Tanor slavers sometimes make strikes into the plains looking for gladiators to fight in the arenas. The Centran deal sharply with the slavers that they catch, pinning them to wheels to die of exposure along the more traveled routes as a sign to other would be slavers. Centrans are severely claustrophobic and panic when confined or even if they are kept indoors for an extended period of time. As a result, they are not highly sought after slaves as once in captivity a Centran's only thought, besides an almost paralyzing fear, is escape and they will go to extraordinary lengths to achieve it. The Parthenians have just discovered that the Centrans can make relatively docile slaves if put to work in farms or other open air projects, and they have stepped up the number of raids in recent years. However if a catpive giant begins to think his situation hopeless, he will refuse to eat and fall into a deep depression that rarely lasts longer than a before the giant dies.
Some escaped slaves join with the Otan renegades or adventures, becoming
marauders who show no mercy if they get their hands around a slaver's throat.
The Flatlands
The Otan say that the only landmarks in the Flatlands are the Centrans
themselves. Indeed the country from the base of the Kilan mountains to
the banks of the Otan river varies no less then two feet the entire distance.
The land is less fertile than above the Otan river, and the grasses
are lower, but the relative lack of predators allows the wild herds that
graze here to dwarf those in the north.
Due to the monotonous terrain and the lack of landmarks, there are no reliable maps and it is easy to become disoriented and lost. Travelers often wander aimlessly for weeks until they manage to wander south far enough to see the mountains or north to the river, by that time usually miles off course. The Centrans, who seem to instinctively know where they are at all times in the flatlands, seem to find this situation highly amusing and will often follow a lost caravan for hours laughing hysterically before offering to help. Some inexperienced draymen have been know to get frustrated with the laughing giants and attack them, usually resulting in the poor fellow's early retirement. Experienced caravan masters know enough that if they get lost to act a friendly as possible and just let the Centrans laugh. The giant will eventually wipe the tears from his eyes and offer to lead the caravan off the plain.
To the south rise the foothills of the Kilan mountains where crumpled remains of the three Kilan strongholds sit silently. Built to guard against the Anasar hordes they were where the Kilan made their the last stand and were slaughtered to extinction. When the hordes where finally pushed from the continent, Tanor soldiers explored the ruins and told horrible tales of twisted and mutilated bodies, some still alive, behind the walls. Seen as a place of great evil the soldiers quickly fled the area leaving the strongholds to rot. Ghosts of those murdered within the walls are said to wander the corridors until the last Anasar has been pushed from Archeaus. And until then they protect the treasures that lie within.
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