Rust Banner
"Those marauders, barbarians - riders of ruin and discord. Nothing good can come from them." - Tu'San the Chronicler.
"Without us, tyrants would have taken these lands long ago. We are the righteous winds. We are freedom." - Skytooth, Motarch of Rust Banner
A brief account of life in the tribe.
Motorsteed
Scrapclan
Road Terror
Warhost
Marithine
RUST BANNER
From the endless tar pits of the far west, to the ocean in the east, and though the storm-choked expanse of the vast interior. No region shall be closed to them. No storm shall pin them. No law shall shackle them, and they shall bow to no will but their own.
The clans of Rust Banner are true nomads - for them, to rest in any place too long is anathema. Theirs is a lifestyle of plunder and scavenge, living off of the bounties of the tribes who make and grow.
Although they do maintain some secret holdings, deep in Korash's centre, these are secret sites that ideally a motarch and their clan will only travel to in times most solemn, or most dire. They are sacred and ancestral sites that lie in deep and labyrinthine canyons, shaded by soaring limestone cliffs. Their 'dying places', for instance, are where the honoured dying will go (or be brought, if they have become too weak to make the journey themselves) to live out their final days in reflection, sheltered from the unrelenting sun.
Then there is the great secret holding of the tribe, "Sher'Tara" (or 'Stoneroots'), where those few amongst them who do not live lives of fartravel and plunder reside. These kin are the makers of machines, and those who administer rites secret and sacred.
But beyond these, the tribe roams further and more frequently than any other of Korash's great tribes - such is the necessity of their survival. They are raiders. Marauders. Seekers and takers. They seize what they need, then disappear into the dust before striking elsewhere.
It might seem a paradox then to learn of the more subtle strictures of the tribe. Their code, for example, prohibits the robbery of dying tribes. If plundering a people will push them into extinction, they will not do so. Additionally, they have been known to leave gifts to those tribes they plunder frequently - and around secret fires, unseen by outsiders, give thanks to the spirits of the fallen on both sides for the hard-won bounties of the Korashi deserts.
Lives of eternal riding mean Rust Banner produce some of the very finest of motorpilots - riders of impeccable, easy skill, with abilities honed since young childhood: for once a child walks, they can ride. To them, to ride is life. It is all. Upon their motorsteeds (honoured cycles of a design honed over generations of journey and strife) they perform feats of driving that are legendary amongst the tribes. Or perhaps infamous - their reputation amongst outsiders is not good. To most (though, it must be noted, not all), they are barbarians without exception, and menaces without equal; feared, often hated, and frequently cursed.
Those who have lived through a Rust Banner raid are unlikely to be comforted by knowledge that the damage could have been worse; or that they did not steal your tribekin away with them (the tribe does not take slaves, and vocally abhor the practice); or that they often wounded, when they could killed.
Factions (the tribes)
"Without us, tyrants would have taken these lands long ago. We are the righteous winds. We are freedom." - Skytooth, Motarch of Rust Banner
A brief account of life in the tribe.
Motorsteed
Scrapclan
Road Terror
Warhost
Marithine
RUST BANNER
From the endless tar pits of the far west, to the ocean in the east, and though the storm-choked expanse of the vast interior. No region shall be closed to them. No storm shall pin them. No law shall shackle them, and they shall bow to no will but their own.
The clans of Rust Banner are true nomads - for them, to rest in any place too long is anathema. Theirs is a lifestyle of plunder and scavenge, living off of the bounties of the tribes who make and grow.
Although they do maintain some secret holdings, deep in Korash's centre, these are secret sites that ideally a motarch and their clan will only travel to in times most solemn, or most dire. They are sacred and ancestral sites that lie in deep and labyrinthine canyons, shaded by soaring limestone cliffs. Their 'dying places', for instance, are where the honoured dying will go (or be brought, if they have become too weak to make the journey themselves) to live out their final days in reflection, sheltered from the unrelenting sun.
Then there is the great secret holding of the tribe, "Sher'Tara" (or 'Stoneroots'), where those few amongst them who do not live lives of fartravel and plunder reside. These kin are the makers of machines, and those who administer rites secret and sacred.
But beyond these, the tribe roams further and more frequently than any other of Korash's great tribes - such is the necessity of their survival. They are raiders. Marauders. Seekers and takers. They seize what they need, then disappear into the dust before striking elsewhere.
It might seem a paradox then to learn of the more subtle strictures of the tribe. Their code, for example, prohibits the robbery of dying tribes. If plundering a people will push them into extinction, they will not do so. Additionally, they have been known to leave gifts to those tribes they plunder frequently - and around secret fires, unseen by outsiders, give thanks to the spirits of the fallen on both sides for the hard-won bounties of the Korashi deserts.
Lives of eternal riding mean Rust Banner produce some of the very finest of motorpilots - riders of impeccable, easy skill, with abilities honed since young childhood: for once a child walks, they can ride. To them, to ride is life. It is all. Upon their motorsteeds (honoured cycles of a design honed over generations of journey and strife) they perform feats of driving that are legendary amongst the tribes. Or perhaps infamous - their reputation amongst outsiders is not good. To most (though, it must be noted, not all), they are barbarians without exception, and menaces without equal; feared, often hated, and frequently cursed.
Those who have lived through a Rust Banner raid are unlikely to be comforted by knowledge that the damage could have been worse; or that they did not steal your tribekin away with them (the tribe does not take slaves, and vocally abhor the practice); or that they often wounded, when they could killed.
Factions (the tribes)
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