The Haunted Steppes
The Haunted Steppes are a vast plain stretching from the Deepfells in the south and the Stoneheart Mountains in the east to the shores of Mother Oceanus in the west. The Lost Mountains and Lake Hali mark the end of the steppe to the northwest, but to the northeast they continue ever northward into frozen lands of increasing darkness known as the Shadowlands.
Once home to a powerful empire that challenged the might of the ancient Hyperboreans, these vast plains are now a cursed land of shadow-haunted horror and broken peoples. A place of fear and apprehension, The Haunted Steppes have borne the tread of hordes of murderous humanoids and the terror of the shadow-walkers, known to the Nørsk as the Scaedugenga. For long centuries, outsiders have avoided the steppes, praying that the fearsome things that dwell there never emerge again. Only in recent years have explorers from the City-State of Castorhage, Gtsang and Reme returned to these lands and discovered surprising truths about the region and those who call it home.
Almost all humans of The Haunted Steppes belong to the Shattered Folk tribes, distant descendants of the once-mighty Hundaei Empire. Most now live in the western portion of the steppes, south of the crook in the Devil’s Tail. Elsewhere, nomadic tribes roam the greater expanse of the steppe, but in smaller numbers, never stopping anywhere for long. All Shattered Folk particularly avoid the lands near the Lost Mountains and Lake Hali, and quickly cross the central corridor known as the Road of Sorrows making signs to draw the blessing of their gods, fearing it is cursed and home to demons and other foul things.
History and People
In the distant past, this region was known to the nomadic folk who lived here as the Kayma-ura-mat (in archaic Kirkut, literally, “Mother of Grass”). They tended their herds of goats and followed the buffalo, antelope, and other game animals that migrated with the seasons. The people lived in family-based clans and roamed their ancestral lands under the leadership of chieftains known as khans. None today knows when they first arrived in these plains or from where they came. In their language of Kirkut, they referred to themselves as the “Hundaei,” meaning “far-riders.” And alongside the Hundaei were their chosen companions, greatest of the horses of the Lost Lands known as the Hu-Soncala (“mighty horse-lords”). The Hu-Soncala, it is said, were blessed with human intelligence, could speak their own language, and were masters of the magic that dwelled in the land itself.
Roaming across thousands of miles of open steppe — a land of bounty but also peril from terrifying storms and deep, cold winters — the Hundaei and the Hu-Soncala were undisputed masters of The Plains. But danger lurked in the northwest where fearsome beasts, living shadows, and ancient slumbering devils were said to prowl beneath the ice and in the windswept crags of the Lost Mountains. Lake Hali in particular was forbidden — even catching a glimpse of its bleak shores was said to curse the viewer with madness and death. Tribal priests and soothsayers warned the clans against venturing near any of these places, an admonition that the clans were easily able to obey, for their own lands were rich and life was good. Unbeknownst to most of the clansfolk, however, their safety from the horrors of those mountains and the dark lake was not secured just by happenstance. An order of priests consisting of humans and their humanoid neighbors moved among the clans in secret, performing at set times ancient rituals that bound the evil that dwelt in the north. These priests were known as the Asran, or the Guardians.
This golden age on the steppes came to end, the Hundaei storytellers relate, when an evil god called Ocru-ca cursed the people for refusing to worship him, surrounding The Plains with a wall of stone. Some scholars suggest that Ocru-ca may refer to the demon-god Orcus, and that these legends recall the raising of the Stoneheart Mountains in the distant past, an act that shattered much of the continent and disrupted rivers, seas, and the climate for thousands of leagues around.
After this catastrophe, game and fodder on The Plains grew scarce. Many rivers dried up or flowed only during the rainy season. Even the mighty Ethtuwate-cala-Tun (meaning the “Gods’ Ride River”) was affected — where once it was at the center of a network of rivers that flowed throughout the steppes, after the disaster it grew broad and slow as its tributaries vanished or dwindled.
The consequent decline of the grasslands and reduction of water forced the Hundaei clans to wander farther afield. Herds grew smaller, seasonal crops became scarcer, and — worst of all — the Hu-Soncala lost their mystical abilities. Though still magnificent, sturdy, and powerful animals, within a century or two of the disaster they became mere shadows of their old selves. Stories told around The Campfires do say that, even today, when the need is great, true Hu-Soncala are born to bear great warriors and cast powerful spells, but such tales may be little more than the wishful thinking of a diminished people.
As the years stretched on and the bounty of the steppes diminished, the tribes of the hills, mountains, and steppes — gnolls, goblins, centaurs, orcs, hobgoblins, and others — were also forced to struggle for resources and turned on each other and on the Hundaei clans for control of the best lands. Soon, The Plains were ablaze with conflict and soaked in blood as human and humanoid clans fought for dominance. The Asran struggled for decades to maintain the rituals that kept the chaos of the Lost Mountains, Lake Hali, and the Shadowlands at bay, but eventually conflicts between Hundaei clans disrupted the performance of the ancient magics. The wards that protected the steppes wavered and weakened, and fearful things began to stir.
The events that followed are almost unknown among the scholars of the Lost Lands, but songs and tales of the Shattered Folk still recall the dark tragedy and epic heroism of this ancient time. Around –450 I.R., more than three centuries before the arrival of the Hyperborean legions on Akados, the first incursion of the Shadow on the steppes began with a strange darkness spreading outward from the Lost Mountains. Some unlucky Hundaei caught a glimpse of a column of inky blackness rising from the surface of Lake Hali and were struck blind or driven mad or, in some cases, died of horror from what they saw within the darkness. Clans that had ventured too close to the forbidden Shadowlands or the cursed lake were visited by strange, frightening dreams and visions, and a few even fell under the sway of the Shadow as it grew and spread. Such folk captured by the darkness came to be known as the Naduk-Taak or “Fallen Ones,” if they are spoken of at all; for it is believed that even talking about them constitutes a bad omen.
The Fallen Ones, as well as many groups of non-humans — among them the goblins, ogres, centaurs, and hobgoblins — joined together under the banner of the Shadow and began to drive the Hundaei from the northern plains. Frightened rumor claimed that they were led by fearsome beings of shadow mounted on dark steeds and crowned with darkness. The clans who lived in the perilous lands just south of the Lost Mountains were the first to fall, slaughtered without mercy in a place that came to be called simply the Killing Ground, where their cursed bones still lie and are shunned by those who dwell in the Steppes.
Faced by this terrible threat, the Hundaei khans met in an urgent gathering and heard tales of survivors and the opinions of priests, soothsayers, and holy folk. The Asran themselves finally came forward. A power not of the earth threatened the steppes and — if it was not stopped — the entire world beyond.
On the fifth day of the gathering, a strange band of emissaries presented itself. Alone among the humanoids, only the gnolls resisted the siren call of the Shadow. A vicious, carnivorous and intensely xenophobic people, the gnolls nevertheless saw the omens, read the signs, and realized that the Shadow would swallow them whole along with their human foes. Though some gnoll clans refused to participate, the majority decided to band together and offer common cause with the Hundaei.
For their part, the humans were intensely suspicious, and many sensed treachery and called to reject the gnolls’ emissaries. But the auguries were favorable, and all signs suggested that the beast-folk were telling the truth. When the khans selected the warrior-chief Utai as their supreme leader, Utai consulted with his advisors, allowed his priests to perform one more round of auguries, and then decided in the end to accept the gnolls’ offer and go into battle with them.
Great battles were fought then on the steppes between the shadow-driven humanoids and the Hundaei and their gnoll allies. But a greater, and unseen, battle was fought in the Shüdar, or Shadow, the adjacent plane of reality that harbored the soul-essences of the shadow creatures. Little can be said about this other struggle, and the songs and stories are largely poetic. But the handful of scholars who have studied Hundaei stories and culture believe that the Asran used powerful and very old magic to cast their own spirits into the void. There they advanced through nightmarish landscapes to face down their foes — whether demons, gods, devils, or something utterly beyond comprehension is not known. Few Asran returned from the Shadow, and of those, some had had their sanity shattered. A few tales suggest that some of the Guardians were trapped in the Shadow and may perhaps remain there today.
Eventually, after long years of war, whatever goal the Asran sought in that darkened realm was achieved. At the height of a great battle where an army of humans and gnolls fought side-by-side against a horde of the north, a chorus of fearsome howls arose as the shadow-things were drawn away, dragged back across the threshold that they had crossed and exiled to the depths of the Shüdar.
Bereft of leadership, the humanoids fell back. The Fallen Ones, irrevocably changed and twisted by their alliance with the Shadows, fought mindlessly until they were scattered. Victorious but on the verge of exhaustion, the defenders dragged themselves north where the last six of the Asran guardians recast the wards to seal the Shadowlands and ward the Lost Mountains and Lake Hali. What dwelled there was not killed — for it may well have been impossible to kill by mortal means, no matter how powerful — but banished. The wards the Asran set were strong, and long years passed before the darkness again stirred and came to once more threaten the world.
The remaining Asran passed their knowledge on to a new generation and once more faded into Hundaei society, conducting their rituals and rites in secret, away from the prying eyes of the world. The gnolls and Hundaei swore oaths of peace and went their separate ways, and to this day will not war on each other. The Hundaei gradually returned to their old ways as decades stretched out into centuries.
Sometime around 5 I.R., Khan Jaganga of the Sukeken (or Leopard) clan had a fearsome and portentous dream. He saw strange men and women clad in strange armor, bearing spears and marching across the land, consuming crops and killing livestock in their path. In his dream they built a great stone table that encompassed the entire land, shutting out the sun and reducing the mighty Hundaei to servitude and slavery. Consulting his oracles, Jaganga became convinced that this dream was a prophecy. Although it is possible that the story of Jaganga’s dream is apocryphal, there is a remarkable coincidence: at almost the same time, the Polemarch Oerson is said to have been granted a vision by the goddess Muir, showing him the location of the Sacred Table in Libynos, and bidding him to found there what became the sacred city of Tircople.
For many years the Hundaei had known that a new people had arrived on Akados to the east beyond the Stoneheart Mountains, but the newcomers were leagues distant and the steppe folk had their own affairs to worry about as the clans migrated, fought their own wars both petty and great, and saw to their own economic and spiritual needs. Safe for millennia behind the Deepfells and the Stonehearts, the Hundaei gave little thought to the outside world. They did trade with the mountain dwarves, however, and Jaganga learned that many dwarves had been displaced by the invaders — humans in bronze armor who had sailed in great oared ships with painted sails and called themselves the Hyperboreans.
Daring scouts from the Sukeken clan slipped through the mountain passes, surreptitiously observing the distant lands to the east and confirming Jaganga’s greatest fear — that the Hyperboreans were on the march and determined to expand their empire.
By this time, Jaganga was already well on the way to uniting the clans through a cunning combination of diplomacy and conquest. A league of Hundaei khans still opposed him, but as he gained more confirmation from his priests and diviners, Jaganga grew more determined to weld the various tribes into a single nation, not only for his own glorification, but also to save his people from extinction.
Jaganga called for a great gathering of the Hundaei and there told the khans of his dream. Others affirmed the vision and spoke of their own. Priests and soothsayers confirmed the legitimacy of the visions. True, some priests counseled caution and suggested that the dreams were actually warnings against hasty action, but Jaganga believed that only aggression under his unified leadership would forestall destruction and set their cautious words aside. The choice that he presented to the remaining independent khans was simple — join his empire or be destroyed, either by his armies or by the Hyperboreans. In the end, either out of true conviction, or out of simple pragmatism, the dissident khans were convinced, and for the first time the Hundaei were united under a single ruler.
Though there was much to do to forge his new empire, Jaganga’s primary focus was on the Hyperborean threat. The Great Khan decided to strike first. Guided by allies among the mountain dwarves, Jaganga’s riders made their way through the seemingly impassible ramparts of the Stoneheart Mountains and emerged into the Sea of Grass and swept south, descending without warning in the heartland of the Hyperborean Empire in 12 I.R.
The effect on the Hyperboreans was devastating. It was as if the very ground had opened up and disgorged an army of devils, and the undermanned garrisons of the Xircos River region were quickly overrun by the fearsome riders whose style of warfare was well-suited to the endless plains on the Sea of Grass. Even the walled settlements that marked the northernmost extent of the Hyperborean Empire, utterly unprepared for war, fell before the Hundaei. Every warrior believed that they were fighting for the very survival of their people and saw their merciless slaughter simply as a pre-emptive act of self-defense.
The Invincible Horde, as it came to be known both by its members and its enemies, was finally stopped at the walls of Apothasalos, where the Polemarch Gnassus waited with two crack Hyperborean legions. It had taken months to gather the scattered legions but now at last the Hyperboreans were ready to make a stand.
This was a new form of warfare for the Hundaei. The serried ranks of bronze faced them from behind bristling masses of the long deadly pikes known as sarissa. Uncertain for the first time, the Hundaei pelted their foes with arrows, only to see the Hyperboreans form into a sturdy chelonae or tortoise formation to ward off the vast majority of their missiles. Frustrated, the Hundaei chiefs ordered their warriors to charge the enemy phalanxes, but most of their horses — possibly showing more sense than their riders — steadfastly refused to impale themselves on the bronze points of the enemy spears. Those that did manage to charge discovered the full effectiveness of the Hyperborean formation and fell back in disorder.
Counterattacks by the outnumbered but still effective Hyperborean cavalry nibbled away at Hundaei numbers, and with supplies and reinforcements funneled directly through Apothasalos the Hyperboreans showed no sign of weakening. Soon, the Hundaei commanders received word that more imperial legions were on their way, and finally decided to abandon the field. Though it was far from an overwhelming defeat, it was a defeat nonetheless, and the battered Hundaei withdrew in good order, retreating back through the passes and limping home.
This inconclusive campaign was only the beginning of a long conflict between The Plains’ riders and the Hyperboreans that would scar the psyches of both peoples for generations. Raids continued for many years, with various groups of Hundaei forces emerging from the mountains to cause havoc and widespread panic before withdrawing. Hard-pressed by a mobile and seemingly limitless enemy, the Hyperboreans were unable to pursue or take the battle to the Hundaei, or the Huns as they came to be known.
War between Hundaei and Hyperborean became a sad fact of life, and soon no one on either side could remember a time when the two peoples were not at war. Years grew into decades and decades into centuries. The Hundaei’s entire existence began to revolve around the terrible conflict, and for their part, the Hyperboreans spent mountains of treasure to keep their frontier well-guarded. Legions stationed there became seasoned veterans, well-versed in warfare against the horse-lords. Hyperborean cavalry evolved to meet the threat, which led to the creation of entire mounted legions whose sole purpose was to patrol and protect the endless plains on the Sea of Grass.
In the end, the Hyperboreans broke the stalemate through the arrival of a new technology. From the dwarves of Irkaina, they learned the secrets of iron and steel. Many years passed before the new knowledge spread throughout the empire, and more before entire legions could be equipped with steel arms. But eventually, superior weaponry enabled the Hyperboreans to finally gain the upper hand and press through the mountain passes that had once served as highways for the Invincible Horde, until they finally broke through onto the Great Steppes.
Now, the darkest fears of the Great Khan’s prophecy were coming to pass. Desperately the Hundaei pushed back, throwing themselves against the imperial legions with near-suicidal bravery. Some battles were won, but most were lost, for the Hyperboreans had learned much and counteracted the Hundaei with sturdy ranks of ironclad infantry and their own skilled light cavalry, which was sufficient to chase down and engage the nimble Hun riders.
But now, fighting across a mountain range and far from home, the Hyperboreans faced the same challenges as the Hundaei once had. Mountain supply lines were unreliable, and the steppes were unsuited to fortifications or permanent settlement. Hyperborean activity on The Plains consisted mostly of counter-raids and a long-term attrition strategy intended to settle the region once the Hundaei were finally pacified. Despite these limitations, the empire met with some success, and pressure from the legions pushed the Hundaei westward, farther and farther away from the Stoneheart Mountains. And, entirely by accident, this pressure began the final downfall of the Hundaei.
Deprived of some of their most fertile and hospitable grazing lands, the Uken and Chabaike clans withdrew to the northwest. Lake Hali and the Lost Mountains had remained strictly forbidden since the coming of the Shadow, but memories had faded, and the displaced clans demanded the right to hunt and graze within sight of the taboo lands, well away from the troublesome Hyperboreans. When the Great Khan Ogedane forbade the migration, the two clans defied him, riding north in the year 680 I.R. and daring him to stop them. It was the greatest act of defiance directed against a Great Khan in generations, but Ogedane, pressed by the Hyperborean threat to the east, was unable to respond.
After the Great Khan’s twin humiliations at the hands of his traditional enemies and his supposed vassals, confidence in Ogedane wavered and in several cases broke altogether, as more clans began to defy his authority. The Uken and Chabaike clans, from their new homes in the forbidden lands, raised the banner of revolt and demanded Ogedane’s head and the election of a new Great Khan. To some, it seemed that those clans were driven by more than anger or resentment; their fury reminded some of the Fallen Ones, the long-ago Hundaei who were possessed by ill-omened spirits from the shadow.
Pressed on two sides, Ogedane gathered loyal clans and faced down the renegades. Battle was joined, and tens of thousands perished and entire clans were annihilated. In what may have been the bloodiest war in Akados’ history, the Hundaei essentially committed collective suicide. By 683 I.R., the once-mighty empire was no more. Small bands of survivors still roamed The Plains, and those who had made new homes in the Sea of Grass escaped the war. Some, it is said, went so far as to flee Akados entirely and make the long journey to far Libynos. But for all intents and purposes, the Hundaei as a people were gone forever. The surprised Hyperboreans suddenly realized that, through no actions of their own, their enemy had vanished.
Today, the descendants of the survivors who roam The Haunted Steppes are known as the Shattered Folk, a folk haunted by memories of ancient greatness. They bitterly recall the prophecy of the Great Khan Jaganga, and retell his story, a warning about the potentially tragic cost of fulfilled destiny.
Ironically, though their greatest enemy no longer roamed the Steppes, the Hyperboreans chose not to settle there and spent their treasure on expanding the empire elsewhere. But the void was not left unfilled. The humanoids of the steppes exulted at the downfall of the Hundaei. Within just a few years, hordes of humanoids swept across the steppes and through the Crynnomar Gap to threaten the northernmost reaches of the Green Realm. As is told elsewhere, the elves were forced to abandon their lands to the south to make a stand in the gap. Eventually, the humanoids were repelled, at great cost to the elves. In their absence, the folk of Reme felled trees and settled farms and legions to carve the new realm of the Northmarches from the former elven lands. The elves, tired of conflict, fled west, and established their new and inviolate boundaries of the Green Realm.
Alone among the humanoids of the steppes, the gnoll tribes mourned the Hundaei’s passing, for they still recalled the days then human and gnoll stood together. To this day, the gnolls and Shattered Folk will not fight each other.
Despite the slaughter of the Hundaei, the Asran — who refused to fight in a civil war of clan against clan — survived and continued their vigil in the north to keep the Shadow contained.
For long years, the rest of the world gave little thought to the steppes, assuming it a savage wilderness. But by the 2800s I.R., the Kingdom of Foere was ascendant in Akados. Ambitious and practical, the Grand Duke Prince Cale — who had spared the kingdom from civil war by renouncing his claim to the throne — cast his eyes to the north and saw there a region ripe for the picking. Long ignored, the Great Steppes seemed largely depopulated, home to bands of disorganized humanoids, nomadic centaurs, and the last pitiable remnants of the Hundaei empire. The Great Colonization had begun.
At the call of the grand duke, great caravans of settlers gathered in the Northmarches of Reme and then moved north through the Crynnomar Gap and into the lands north of the Deepfells. They founded settlements there in what became known as the Caleen lands, which began to grow and thrive. Outposts were built north of the settlements, and the Foerdewaith then advanced into the Ethtuate-cala-tun basin, the old heartland of Hundaei civilization.
Within 70 years, a string of settlements sprang up along the base of the surrounding mountains and in an unbroken chain across the steppes to the western coast more than a thousand miles away. The Shattered Folk retreated and refused battle, hoping to preserve their numbers and retain their independence. Many chieftains and petty khans chose to negotiate and accepted payment for their lands or agreed to treaties that allowed for continued grazing and migration through the settled regions.
However, the Caleen colonists also discovered that humanoids existed on the steppes in much greater numbers than first believed. The many humanoid tribes had scattered and gone feral after their defeat at the hands of the wild elves, but an unbroken remnant had settled on the shores of Lake Hali in the shadow of the Lost Mountains. Here they regrouped and began to grow strong again. Priests and soothsayers among the Shattered Folk issued dire warnings to the Foerdewaith, cautioning them against going too far north or disturbing the terrible powers that slumbered there. To their later regret, the Foerdewaith saw these as reflections of the superstitions of a simple folk and utterly ignored the warnings.
When the colonists reached the shores of Lake Hali by 2931 I.R., they encountered better organized and more aggressive tribes of humanoids. Where before there had been only sporadic marauders, suddenly the floodgates opened. Hordes descended from Lake Hali onto the Great Steppes. The widely scattered Caleen settlements were ill-prepared and many were sacked and burned before the Foerdewaith were even aware of the threat. By the time they were able to regroup and prepare for war, they found themselves encircled by hostile tribes that had seemingly sprung up from the steppes themselves. Though hard pressed, the colonists managed to fortify their settlements and steadings while receiving additional military assistance from Courghais that allowed them to push back the humanoid marauders. The lands they controlled were consolidated and protected, but now a tense stalemate existed with roving bands of the hostile humanoids.
But the stalemate did not last. After 16 years, some event disrupted the rituals of the Asran, and none know the cause. The Shadow was freed, no longer contained by the ancient magics. With no warning, in 2947 I.R. the Scaedugenga burst forth from their place of exile and unleashed armies of humanoids and creatures of darkness in a renewed assault on the Caleen colonies.
Grand Duke Cale called to Reme and Foere for aid and, despite his advanced age, went north to personally command the defense. A body of troops called the Caleen Legion was raised and initially met with some success in battle, driving off humanoid armies and relieving several colonies from siege. The victory was short-lived, however, as more humanoids, in what seemed unending numbers, continued to pour forth from the shores of Lake Hali, from the mountains, and from the Shadowlands, welded into a single force by the dominance of the Scaedugenga. While the overking sought to raise a force to relieve the colonies, Cale was forced into battle south of the Everfar Hills. The Foerdewaith fought bravely, but in the end they could not overcome the might of the magic of the shadow and sheer numbers. Grand Duke Cale, his honor guard, and his legion fell there in battle. To this day, the battlefield is called Cale’s Doom, where it is said that Cale’s spirit and those of his legion wander each night, endlessly contending with the forces of shadow.
The story of the Shadow War’s end is well known — the desperate race to the Crynnomar Gap, preparations for a doomed last stand, the return of the ancient wizards Margon and Alycthron and their raising of the Wizard’s Wall. And there the tales of Reme and Foere end, with the armies of Shadow beneath the unscalable heights of the wall. But missing from those tales are what happened next in the steppes.
Staggered by the titanic magical forces marshaled to raise the Wizard’s Wall, the Scaedugenga reeled back, initially seeking another route to the southern kingdoms. But unknown to the folk of Reme and Foere, the Asran still lived, and behind the wall they worked to save the rest of Akados from the horrors of the north. Gathering together with the priests of the Shattered Folk and tribal shamans from the gnoll and centaur tribes, the Asran again invoked the ancient rites and entered the Shadow plane, doing renewed battle with the Scaedugenga and their dark minions.
Though they were not as powerful as they once were, the magical forces that had raised the wall had also battered and weakened the Shadow, and after a long and costly struggle, the Scaedugenga were once more thrown back behind eldritch wards. Yet the defeat was not complete, and the new wards were weaker than those of old, and the Shadow continues to extend its dark tendrils from the far north even today.
To the rest of Akados, the Great Steppes were a place of tragedy and loss where sad spirits wandered. They were the Great Steppes no longer — after the defeat of the Shadow horde, the folk of Reme and Foere did their best to forget the lands beyond the Wizard’s Wall, which they now called The Haunted Steppes.
Now ignored by the rest of the world, over time the steppes themselves returned to something approaching a normal existence. Remaining Shattered Folk clans returned to their ancient migratory routes and, in some cases, even created semi-permanent settlements. Some of the folk of the Caleen colonies also survived. Now trapped behind the Wizard’s Wall, they settled into independent communities — intermarrying with some Shattered Folk and incorporating dwarves, halflings, and even some humanoids into their villages — and developed a new, unique society. Humanoid tribes bickered and fought each other. All came to shun certain lands where the shadow forces that had been unleashed had left a lasting mark, where ghosts, spirits, and undead roamed. The Asran, though diminished, continued to maintain their rituals, and now also wielded powers to repel and guard against the undead.
And so the steppes remained, forgotten, until the fateful year 3262 I.R., when the Castorhagi trader Provision made landfall at the mouth of the Devil’s Tail. There they encountered and established a cautious friendship with a group of nomadic riders and soon learned that the descendants of the ancient Hundaei still lived on The Plains, and that the local groups had banded together into the Confederacy of the Elitan-i-pan. The Haunted Steppes’ long isolation was finally at an end as the wily and profit-minded Castorhagi established trade posts along the coast and expanded their contact with the locals.
Gtsang traders who ventured into the steppes in 3360 I.R. had some success with the Campacha tribes, another confederacy of Shattered Folk, who proved to be open to foreign trade. In the course of their expedition, the Gtsang reached the small community of Chesmire, located on the southern bank of the Tabur River, one of the villages of the survivors of the Caleen colonies. They soon realized that other small villages in the region appeared to have similar populations.
Then in 3439 I.R. the Conroi Expedition, a group of explorers sent from Reme to determine the extent of any threat from The Haunted Steppes, carefully crossed the Wizard’s Wall at Durgam’s Folly. They first made contact with the Campacha folk, who roamed not far from the wall. To the expedition’s surprise, the Campacha proved to be a strong and well-established people who had pacified much of the southern steppes. Shortly thereafter, they confirmed the few rumors that had reached Reme from Gtsang and arrived at the villages where lived the descendants of survivors of the Caleen colonies.
Word of the survival of some of the original Caleen colonies shocked Reme and Foere. These communities, soon dubbed the Conroi Settlements, are only now making full contact with the outside world, visited by merchants and agents of Castorhage, Foere, and Reme. Rumors about these settlements continues to spread throughout Akados, much false, including the beliefs that they were actually founded by the Conroi Expedition, or had been on the verge of extinction before their rescue by the expedition’s arrival.
For their part, the folk of the so-called Conroi Settlements (who generally refer to themselves as the Caleen) are uncertain about these foreign interlopers, and largely distrust a world that abandoned their ancestors long years ago.
The Shattered Folk of today are divided into countless clans ranging in size from a few dozen to a thousand or more, and still practice many of their old traditions. Many still hunt and graze, following the seasons across the steppe, and engage in skirmishes with neighboring clans as they fight over prime grazing land. Some are known to be utterly ruthless with their enemies and outsiders who enter their territory, while others, such as the Campacha and the Elitan-i-pan Confederacy, are open to outside contact and have made tentative moves to a more settled economy and lifestyle, actually building a few semi-permanent settlements and tending farms on the steppe.
For the most part, however, the folk of The Plains continue to live on The Haunted Steppes in the same manner as they have for millennia. The outside world has come knocking, but so far, their influence is minimal, and there are still herds to graze, crops to grow, and battles to fight. And among the Shattered Folk, and among some of the other people of the steppes, including the centaurs and the gnolls who continue to remember the old stories, dwell the Asran, still dedicated to resisting the influence of the Shadow that lingers and bides its time in the far-away frozen north.
Religion
The tales of the Hyperboreans and their descendants make of the Hundaei the great enemy of civilization, brutal warriors interested only in conquest and bloodshed. In actual fact, the Hundaei were (and in their present incarnation as the Shattered Folk, are) a subtle and sophisticated people with a far more complex culture than their enemies wished to admit. Nowhere is this more evident than in the Ethtuwate faith, which is still practiced across the Haunted Steppe.
The ancient Hundaei were a varied people, and each great clan had its own traditions, beliefs, and legends. Their common faith was a highly adaptable and tolerant one, having evolved to encompass all of the Steppe folk. Ethtuwate practitioners believe that the universe was created when the primal deity Tunkaku, the Great Giver, split apart, with some of its elements forming the stars and celestial bodies and others forming the deities and powerful beings of law, chaos, good, evil, and neutrality. While Tunkaku no longer exists, its energies are suffused throughout the cosmos, and all living things contain a small spark of the Great Giver’s spirit. Thus, many Hundaei continue to give thanks to the Great Giver for its sacrifice and its continued influence on the world. This attitude contributes to the Shattered Folk’s tolerant faith, its great adaptability, and acceptance of other gods and goddesses.
Tunkaku gave birth to the two primary gods of the Ethtuwate mythos — the sun-deity Thaka, who rides across the sky on a great pegasus, and the moon-deity Drethra, who rules the night astride a mighty nightmare. While Thaka is most often portrayed as a god and Drethra as a goddess, they are actually androgynous (as are all deities of the pantheon), incorporating both male and female characteristics. Of the two Thaka is by far the most popular, as he is the good-aligned god of the sun, harvest, and life who rides the pegasus Hloctaw, while Drethra, usually portrayed as a creature of evil — pale and sickly with jet-black hair, steely-gray eyes, and parched, angry red lips — mounted on the nightmare steed Calcetrix the Malevolent.
In addition to these two supreme deities, the Ethtuwate faith includes a host of lesser demigods and spirits: Srishwa the Queen of Beasts, goddess of the hunt; Soncala the Horse Lord, god of war; Ugutis the Sin Master, the chaotic god of vice; Zuxaca the Serpent Trickster; and even a god of comedy and mischief named Cajusta, who is believed to have once been a mortal jester elevated to divine status by Thaka. While most of these are usually portrayed as male or female, these are only considered guises of genderless divine beings who can appear or act in any way they deem appropriate.
These gods are only the core pantheon however, for while the Hundaei worshipped many common traditional deities, their diverse and wide-ranging culture made room for local spirits, heroes, and demigods. The old clans’ nomadic lifestyle brought them into contact with each other, which led to an exchange of gods, beliefs, philosophies, and ideas. The resulting Ethtuwate faith is therefore highly flexible and adaptive, easily adopting outside gods and faiths without conflict or question as needed.
The resulting laissez-faire attitude toward the divine makes the adoption of new gods and faiths comparatively easy, though missionaries often find the Shattered Folk to be incredibly frustrating, as they eagerly embrace foreign gods like Thyr and Jamboor while remaining faithful to the Ethtuwate pantheon. In fact, the Shattered Folk have often been more successful at converting foreigners to their openminded faith than the missionaries have at getting them to abandon their old beliefs.
That being said, most Shattered Folk draw the line at the worship of demons and evil gods, however, for they are not so naïve to believe that there is not true wickedness in the world. Some priests teach that the gods of evil exist to show the folly of selfishness and cruelty, and that even demons serve a purpose in the great schema of the cosmos. As the whims of nature and the changing character of fate are tools of the inscrutable divine, so too are the creatures and gods of evil.
Priests, soothsayers, diviners, and fortune tellers play an important role in Shattered Folk society, providing guidance and interpretation of omens, signs, portents, and dreams. Numerous methods of divination are used on the steppes, including the casting of bones, the flight of birds, and the examination of entrails. However, soothsayers insist that they are merely messengers, and that their interpretations are merely feeble mortal attempts to interpret the mystical. The final interpretation of signs and portents is up to the person for whom the signs are read. And priests and soothsayers remind anyone seeking guidance of the tragedy of Great Khan Jaganga, of his war with the Hyperboreans, and the role of prophecy in the destruction of their empire. One should not allow oneself to be led or deluded by dreams and visions.
Trade and Commerce
For nearly their entire history The Haunted Steppes have been isolated from the rest of the world. In the distant past, the Hundaei established a friendship with the dwarves of the Stoneheart Mountains and engaged in a small amount of trade, but this was the exception rather than the rule. It was not until very recently, when the ships of Castorhage made landfall in the Devil’s Tail and established relations with the Elitan-i-pan Confederacy, that any real trade existed between The Haunted Steppes and the rest of the world.
Today, thin threads of merchant traffic connect the Elitan-i-pan Confederacy with the traders of Castorhage, and the Campacha with Gtsang, Reme, and Foere. Exotic foodstuffs, steelwork, jewelry, liquor, fine cloth, and lumber flow into The Haunted Steppes in exchange for fine steppes’ horses, handcrafts, textiles, and herbs. For their part, the Shattered Folk also provide some of their local intoxicants and narcotics, including fermented mare’s milk and the dried seeds and resin of the wild dreamleaf plant, which is harvested in the early fall and has begun to prove quite popular in the dens of Castorhage and Reme.
Loyalties and Diplomacy
As with trade, The Haunted Steppes have always been a world apart. Since the end of the Shadow War, they have had little contact with the rest of Akados.
Today, the Shattered Folk remain fiercely independent, though some clans prove to be open to contact and even positive relations, as the Elitan-i-pan folk have with the Castorhagi. The discovery of the Conroi Settlements has brought further attention as diplomats from Reme and Foere have approached the colonists’ descendants. For the most part, however, the folk of the steppes keep to themselves, free on The Plains, living in the old ways among the ghosts of the past.
Government
No unified government exists on The Haunted Steppes. Each of the peoples who live here govern themselves in such manner as they see fit.
Clans of the Shattered Folk are governed by khans, who are usually either accomplished warriors or high priests. The status of khan varies from clan to clan — some are absolute rulers whose word is law while others are essentially figureheads with a council of wise men or women actually ruling the clan. Though most khans are male, it is not unusual to encounter a female leader who gained the position through skillful leadership or martial accomplishment.
The folk of each of the Conroi Settlements are typically ruled by one or more elders or senior families chosen by such means as the settlement determines.
Military
The ancient Hundaei were peerless warriors, skilled in the arts of mounted warfare. Each warrior bore a short horn bow, arrows and a pair of light lances which were used to deadly effect. The clans’ nimble hit-and-run style of warfare frustrated many a Hyperborean commander, and while the Hundaei were rarely able to break the impregnable fortresses of the Hyperborean phalanx, they were never decisively defeated either.
Today’s Shattered Folk continue many of the same traditions, including military training from the age a child can ride and the deadly use of the mounted shortbow and lance. Fewer opportunities exist for military glory these days, of course. No sane outsiders would attempt to invade the steppes, with endless miles of empty plain, mounted warriors without peer on such open spaces, and the land’s reputation as haunted; and the Shattered Folk themselves have no interest in conquest any longer. Fights between clans tend to be short and relatively bloodless, often ending after only a handful of casualties. But the old ways remain strong, and twice-yearly gatherings on The Plains bring together dozens of clans for games, drinking, gambling, and sport, including contests between lancers, bow-armed riders, and nimble, acrobatic trick-riders. The Hundaei may be a mere shadow of their former selves, but at times they shine quite brightly.
Major Threats
Today, no kingdoms of Akados have any desire to attempt to seize lands within The Haunted Steppes, the tales of old deterring any but the insane from such foolish endeavor. And those who dwell here have little or no interest in the goings-on beyond their plains. Whether either view could change with the new contacts between the Shattered Folk and Castorhage, Gtsang and Reme remains to be seen.
Clans bicker, and skirmishes occur with the humanoid tribes, but that is just the ordinary way of life here and poses no real threat to the inhabitants of the steppes.
Though now quiescent, the darkness of shadow continues to loom in the north. The Scaedugenga are held at bay by the magical barriers raised and maintained by the Asran, but even the most optimistic guardian knows that the wards are not what they once were and that the Shadow is constantly probing, seeking to return once more and spread across the mortal world.
Wilderness and Adventures
The Haunted Steppes are nearly all wilderness and continue to be a world unto themselves, isolated behind mountainous ramparts and the mystical barrier of the Wizard’s Wall. While the Campacha and the Elitan-i-pan Confederacy have settled and pacified significant sections of the steppes, they remain vulnerable to raids from humanoids and other hostile Shattered Folk clans.
The rest of The Plains are a vast and seemingly endless Sea of Grass broken here and there by rivers, especially the God’s Ride River. The only significant heights in the steppes are the rugged Pin-i-Pinjhami Hills, home to hostile humanoids and largely avoided by The Plains-dwelling clans.
Elsewhere, travelers are likely to encounter many challenges, some of which can be deadly to those who are inexperienced or unprepared. Fierce winds scour The Plains, especially in winter, when they accumulate massive drifts that can strand and isolate travelers. Summer weather is also hazardous, as the temperature may soar to deadly levels. Great droughts also affect The Plains in summer, drying rivers and reducing them to treacherous stretches of mud. Massive rain- and hailstorms pound the steppes during spring, causing flashfloods that can sweep away encampments or entire traveling groups.
In addition to the hazards of weather, The Plains are also home to many marauding bands of goblins, orcs, hill giants, ogres, and others who like nothing better than to prey upon unwary travelers. Not all encounters are hostile, as the Shattered Folk, the centaurs, and (surprisingly) gnolls of The Plains are sometimes willing to approach outsiders for trade or assistance. The gnolls are an especially interesting exception, as some have maintained good (or at least tolerant) relations with the Shattered Folk since the first Shadow incursion and are not inclined to simply attack humans on sight. Naturally, not all of these groups are always friendly, or even neutral, as many centaur tribes are very warlike and some of the clans of the Shattered Folk, such as the fearsome Ognari, are highly protective of their home territories.
And here and there can be found remnants of the incursions of the Shadow upon The Haunted Steppes, wandering undead and even the occasional demons or outsiders biding their time until the Asrans’ barriers fall again. Rumors among the Shattered Folk also tell of strange beings of shadow that still stalk The Plains, possibly Scaedugenga who avoided banishment by the Asran, hunting in the dark and seeking ways to break the wards and allow their fellows to return again to mortal lands.
Yet now, for the first time in generations, The Haunted Steppes are opening up to the outside world, as Castorhagi, Remans, and Foerdewaith reach out to the Shattered Folk. Trade caravans and diplomatic expeditions require experienced adventurers for protection. Scholars from the south, especially in Reme, seek more knowledge about the history of this highly isolated and in many ways, unknown region, particularly the history of the Shattered Folk in the wake of the Hundaei Empire’s collapse, the nature of the Shadow Horde and the Scaedugenga, and the history of the surviving Caleeen Colonies — how they survived and the challenges that they faced in doing so. Some enterprising adventurers have even set out to The Plains on their own to investigate mysteries such as the Tangjan College, the Tav’chul, and the Cursed Ruin of Stone (though this last is extremely dangerous and risks the murderous rage of the Shattered Folk for violating a strict taboo). At the same time, ruins of the old colonies still molder amid the vast grasses. Some are entirely gone save for a few piles of stone, while others may be haunted by lonely spirits or inhabited by the creatures of the steppes. These battered settlements may provide shelter to travelers, or they may yet hold some remnants — for good or ill — of their original residents.
Region
The Haunted Steppes
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