Tribes of Blackwater

Lifespan: Average 40-50 years
Average weight: 40-50 Kilograms

Biology

The Tribes of Blackwater are an odd race, appearing malnourished or withered at first. They have lithe forms, somewhere between attractive and disturbing, with sallow skin and dark hair. Mutations are common amongst them, and they rarely live to ripe old ages. However, there is a peculiar strength to them, and their various mutations may assist them in times of need.

Military

The Tribes of Blackwater lack a standing army, but are far from unarmed, with many of their younger- especially those still young- traveling on raids to take captive foreigners for their own glory. Vainglorious to a fault, the tribals fight without care for formation or cooperation, each warrior seeking only glory for themself.

They wield profane relics steeped in black magic; primitive-seeming weapons crafted from the hides, bones, and teeth of abberant horrors. These seemingly basic weapons prove horrifically effective, their presence alne sapping the strength from enemy warriors.

In battle, the tribals are supported by seemingly tamed- or at the least, controlled- abberations from the Abyss of Khora, Abyssal Sea, or the Blackwater Archipelago where they make their home. How these monsters are controlled is unknown, though this control is shaky at best.

History

Sequestered on their isolated archipelago, deep in the Blackwater Gulf near the shore of the Abyss of Khora, lies the Tribes of Blackwater. Few know they exist, though some Dragari scholars speculate they may be descendants of the Vilebloods who once inhabited the eastern badlands.

The main contact between the tribes and foreign nations are when they take to the waves, appearing in the dead of night in defenseless villages. They seek little plunder, but rather, desire sacrificial victims and slaves. The profane horrors these poor souls are subjected to is the subject of dark legend, but the Tribes of Blackwater themselves are largely believed to be mythical.

Technology

Primitive and backwater, the Tribes of Blackwater make little use of advanced technology. Metal tools and weapons are a rarity amongst them, though they are certainly capable of producing such things should they need them.

Rather, most of their technology is of the more mystical sense. The Tribes are masters of black ritual magic, using reagents from the Abyss to create profane objects infused with unholy power.

In a more mundane sense, the Tribes live in simple, technologically regressed villages, typically built of mud and straw. Stone and bone tools are common, as are self bows and throwing spears for hunting.

Society

The tribes of blackwater live in clannish tribes of inter-related individuals, each village typically being essentially one large extended family. Different tribes largely are in competition with eachother, and fighting between each tribe is not rare, though it is not particularly common either.

Powerful tribes often keep other groups around them- often on the same island- in a state of vassalage, though it may more accurately be described as thralldom.

When forming raiding parties, often one tribe will sponsor the raid, commissioning the boats and a large part of the raiding group. Then, other tribes that catch wind may be attracted to join in as well, particularly those of lower standing. Prestige amongst the tribes is largely based on their percieved piety, and nothing displays piety more than hosting a grand feast after a raid- captives are stripped down and sacrificed, eaten alive, or worse.

Seemingly, it is this perverse and horrific practice which subdues the creatures of the Abyss, allowing them to be used by the tribes. To enlist the service of such a creature- doubly so if it is a sentient example- is a great credit to that particular tribe.

The tribes of blackwater worship all manner of bizarre and malefic deities, but the greatest temple is the black monolith on Blackwater Isle, the single largest- yet utterly uninhabited- island in the archipelago. This island is only ever visited by the tribals once per year, at the onset of fall. More captives are sacrificed here than anywhere else, yet the celebrations are much less energetic as before, and the tribals take a somber tone as they approach the monolith to make countless sacrifices before it. Returning to their boats, in a black mood the tribals sail back away from the isle, not speaking a word and not daring to look back for fear the Slumbering God may devour their soul, as it does all of those they lay before its grand monolith.