The Nomad Faction is not a Faction in the same way the other nine are. It is less structured, more a state of mind. A single rule defines and shapes them. The rule the Nomads live by is this; To settle is to die. And so they endlessly travel the lands in small, close-knit groups, their homes temporary, able to be packed onto horses and into backpacks quickly when the time to move on arrives. They live off the land, hunting and foraging whatever they can, always guided by the seasons. There are many separate groups that make up the Nomad Faction, all with widely differing beliefs and customs, but all unified by their unique credo; To Settle is to Die.

 

Some groups are old and have roots dating back to the Rift itself, others have a more recent history. Each and every one developing from the ever present desire to keep moving.

 

And while these groups are totally independent and self-sufficient, they are forever connected; both spiritually through their core belief and physically through their regular gatherings.

 

Every 4 years, high above the seemingly endless Grassland plains, a celestial event occurs, when the Sun ‘marries’ the Moon in a spectacular astronomical conjunction. The various Nomad groups converge together on the vast plain to celebrate this dramatic event in a huge gathering under the stars. Here they share stories, music and enjoy a series of fun but seriously competitive games. They also use this valuable time together to trade goods and livestock, as well as arrange marriages between sons and daughters from different groups. This is how the bonds are maintained across the distances that usually separates them.

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But of course there is also a more serious side to the event. During the gathering a council is convened of elders to discuss the pressing issues of the day, mainly Trolls and where they have been seen last, any of their community that have been lost in the previous 4 years and any interactions they have had with the other Factions.

 

This wonderful event lasts until the Moon leaves the Sun, to slip away onto its own path once again. For despite the Moons eternal love for the Sun, even it knows that to settle is to die. And so the people gather their belongings, say their goodbyes and continue upon their never-ending journey.

 

Each group has its own version of how the gathering began, but all involve a common factor; a small early group of Nomads were caught off guard while setting up camp on the grasslands. They were attacked by a large family of Grassland Trolls who surrounded them, preventing them from fleeing. Despite the huge odds against them the small group held out for many days, taking horrific losses before sadly succumbing completely to the attack. There were no survivors. But they didn’t go down without a fight.

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A few days later a group of Nomads came across the scene and found the remains of the travellers scattered among the wreckage of their camp. But that was not all they found! Surrounding the camp they discovered the bodies of multiple dead Trolls. To kill one Troll was hard. To kill two was almost impossible. But this small group had managed to kill 6 Trolls. They had truly died heroes.

 

The encounter became a tale told between travelling groups and over the years the tale became a legend and the legend became a myth. Six trolls became sixty trolls and the land became sacred. And so now the Nomads gather every four years to remember the Heroes of the Grassland Massacre and celebrate the Nomad way of life.

 

It is said that when the end times come to this world, the only people that will be left will be the Nomads.