Quoth Wikipedia:
A traditional yurt (from the Turkic languages) or ger (Mongolian) is a portable, round tent covered with skins or felt and used as a dwelling by several distinct nomadic groups in the steppes of Central Asia. The structure consists of an angled assembly or latticework of wood or bamboo for walls, a door frame, ribs (poles, rafters), and a wheel (crown, compression ring) possibly steam-bent.
Full article here.
Admittedly, I have previously established that Realmgard does have northern nomadic peoples, though at this point they have more in common with the Sámi of Northern Europe than the Mongols and other Turkic nomads that actually live in yurts…
I need to work on hammering out a coherent picture of their culture and society and I think I could get some good stories out of exploring said culture further.
Of course, the obvious solutions is probably to establish that there are multiple nomadic cultures in Realmgard…
Mostly, though, for now I just wanted to make that “Yurt Locker” joke.
Also, for reference, this is kinda-sorta a follow-up to some of the scenes I did in February:
Anneliese’s life as a junior member of the Wolf Knights has changed her life in many ways, and taken her further from home than she’s ever been before.
And yet, even beneath the endless sky of the great, vast plains of north-central Realmgard, some things never change.
“Ow!” she exclaims, hitting her head on the doorframe of the tent as she steps out into the morning.
Clearly, the nomads’ tents were never designed for tall Elves like her.
Anneliese flinches and takes a quick step back as an orange blur speeds by.
“Ow!” she exclaims as she hits the back of her head against the doorframe of the tent.
“Good morning, Anneliese,” Lisette calls over her shoulder, the fox-girl speeding towards the fire where the other novice Wolf Knights are assembled.
“Yeah,” Anneliese mutters. “Morning.”
The orange-haired fox-girl is already long out of earshot by the time Anneliese responds.
Alternating between rubbing her wounded forehead and the wounded back of her head, Anneliese makes her way over to the other Wolf Knights.
They’re a strange bunch: a dragon Wilderling, a fox Wilderling, an adopted Elf with Dwarf parents and an unfortunate tendency to hit her head on things, and friends. All under the watchful eye of a grizzled veteran Wolf Knight whose favourite pastime seems to be enumerating the many, many failings of the youth of today.
“Good morning,” Anneliese tells the others as she settles down beside the fire with the others.
“Breakfast is these little dumpling things,” Helgi says, stuffing several into his mouth. “I’m not sure what’s in them, but they’re delicious.”
Helgi eats the most of the group of novice Wolf Knights, maybe because he’s a dragon Wilderling.
Suddenly, Anneliese feels something jumping at her.
“We’re under attack!” she exclaims at the impact, bracing herself for the inevitable battle.
The battle never comes. Instead, Anneliese glances down to see the girl from the nomad tribe grinning up at her and hugging her tightly.
“Good morning An-an-lee-za!” she says happily, still not quite able to pronounce Anneliese’s name correctly.
“Good morning, Sen-Linn,” Anneliese replies as the girl climbs into her lap and smiles broadly at the other Wolf Knights.
For some reason, Sen-Linn has latched onto Anneliese, often to a very literal degree, jumping onto her, climbing all over her, and holding onto her hand. Anneliese doesn’t mind, she just wishes the girl would bring it down just a little bit.
“Hey, Sen, what are these?” Helgi asks the girl, holding up one of his armful of the dumplings.
“They’re made with horse,” the girl answers.
The other Wolf Knights gasp in horror. As for Helgi, he looks briefly conflicted, contemplates the dumpling in his hand, shrugs and crams it into this mouth.
“Come on,” Sen-Linn says, tugging on Anneliese’s sleeve. “The chieftain and the shaman are waiting for you!”
Anneliese takes a deep breath to steady herself, straightens out her tunic and resolves to comport herself with the dignity and magnanimity befitting of a Wolf Knight —
— and promptly hits her head on the doorframe of the shaman’s yurt.
“Ow!”
So, this one didn’t really examine or expand on the nomadic culture, but that’s hard to do in 500 words and I’m not quite sure how such a culture fits into the overall scheme of Realmgard, but I’m now giving more thought on that than previously.
So, because, the nomads don’t really correspond to any real culture, I decide to use “Sen-Linn” as a placeholder name since it doesn’t seem to correspond to any real-world language.
And maybe because it’s a bit reminiscent of Lyn from Fire Emblem, who is herself a member of a nomadic tribe that’s at least vaguely Mongol-influenced.
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