Young Oin lived with the Volturi clan. But the clan vanished in time, thus he lead his journey of life towards the bigger clan called Krux. With the clan by his side he fought many battles, but he never forgot his old clan. Clan with a vulture in its coat of arms. He stays with Krux as a honorable guest. Oin is an excellent craftsman, great companion and is highly competent as a sark-alef, which he showed in many occasions. He doesn't yearn for the higher ranks unlike the others in the army, although a general's rank was offered to to him repeatedly. As a flail fighter he reached his greatest glory, he was develish reaching enemy lines those days.
Basir
Basir´s clan was swallowed by past full of wars too. Even despite the fact the clan Matuga Sor belonged to the one of the most famous clans of the Southern lands. But with the time The White Crow – which is the transalation of the clan´s name into a basic language – started to loose her feathers until the moment when Basir was the only one left. He joined his ways then with Uku-Roth, clan of young warriors. Basir proved himself to be very good tracer when he led warriors through crooked paths of mountains and deep forests into the back of the enemy. He as well was a leader to few of diversionary groups which aimed to attack from ambush. He knows how to track a good place for camp and how to build one as well as all of the good tracers do. He has a peaceful nature until the moment a fight comes.
Basir´s clan was swallowed by past full of wars too. Even despite the fact the clan Matuga Sor belonged to the one of the most famous clans of the Southern lands. But with the time The White Crow – which is the transalation of the clan´s name into a basic language – started to loose her feathers until the moment when Basir was the only one left. He joined his ways then with Uku-Roth, clan of young warriors. Basir proved himself to be very good tracer when he led warriors through crooked paths of mountains and deep forests into the back of the enemy. He as well was a leader to few of diversionary groups which aimed to attack from ambush. He knows how to track a good place for camp and how to build one as well as all of the good tracers do. He has a peaceful nature until the moment a fight comes.
According to the legends, clan Ignis was one of the largest northern clans. They were uncountable. The ushatari of the clan liked to get recruited to mercenary hordes, or they formed various marauding expeditions themselves. I've heard a lot of stories about their guile. Wherever they came, all burned to the ground. Both clans, Snaga and Ignis, were connected by continuous mutual hostility. Whenever both clans‘ warriors met in the same mercenary horde, all kinds of provocations, insults and scuffles were bound to happen. Every now and then one got robbed or other’s throat was slit - there was never any need to search for an excuse. It was therefore a big surprise when the warriors of Ignis appeared at the funeral of Magua, an old shaman of Snaga, with an offer of peace. The incomers cannot be rejected in such an important day – only time will tell whether the truce will last...
The uruki caravan of the Ignis clan erected their camp in the middle of the old tower ruins’ courtyard. The whole construction was managed by a tall uruk, who was called Tim Tim as I found out later. He acted very deftly and expertly. His demeanor showed that he was respected by the clan’s members and they all obeyed his orders. The camp was closed from other tents and had its own fireplace. The Ignis clan kept its distance from the other uruki who were present at the funeral, as in this occasion they were all together. Through a long observation I realized that krual of Ignis was under strong influence of Tim Tim. The krual listened to his advice and Tim Tim inconspicuously moderated the krual' s occasional mighty bragging or violent tendencies. His weapon were wiles, rather than the heavy flail hanging from his belt. The secret threat is usually wore than an open fight.
Another member of the Ignis clan was a tall young uruk in a horned helmet. His height was really worth admiring. It made him more menacing and gave him a huge advantage in fights. This leads me to description of another strange habit I happened to witness. Instead of grieving and honoring the remains of the deceased as it is done by people in my homeland, the uruki arranged a contest for the strongest warrior on the quickly raked ashes of the burnt-out pyre. Even though the fights were not meant to end with death, they seemed very dangerously. The young ushatar in the horned helmet called himself Fanda. His hard thrusts knocked many of his rivals to their knees. Nevertheless, he lacked experience to stand victorious and thus even he eventually got to know the defeat. All the same, it is certain that he will become a very dreaded warrior one day.
The last one of clan Ignis’ krual’s escort was a very strange uruk, who was called Vydra. He wore colourful kilts, had mischievous eyes, was fidgety and talked a lot. He laughed often and made fun of everybody around him. He was very consistent in this manner. Whenever I looked at him, he noticed me and stuck out his tongue. It was impossible to watch him without his knowledge and he graced me with his disgusting greeting every time. One time, however, he lost all his attention. It was caused by a bottle of black booze which the uruki drink. It was a strange sight - he behaved madly, often switched moods, talked to himself and tottered through the camp. His companions were guarding him, so nobody could reach him and so he couldn’t harm anybody either. When I asked Maalflok about this, he stonily said that this happens to all uruki, that the black liquor wakes voices, visions and memories which they never lived through...
When I heard the news spreading across the camp, that banners of another caravan appeared on the horizon , I went with the others to see who is coming. Due to the quandary in which the bystanding uruki clearly were, it seemed, that these weren’t any welcomed guests. When the markings on the banners became clearer, Maalflok cursed under his breath and Loqok angrily threw a knife into the nearest tree –it remained stuck in the trunk by half the blade’s length. When the caravan reached the ruins of the ancient tower, it was indeed Maalflok who went to meet the newcomers. He talked to their leader several times and several times returned to his tribe to consult. Ultimately, however, the caravan encamped and it wasn’t until the late evening that I got to know what was going on. The clan was called Ignis and its leader Fritol was a dreaded warrior, a mercenary general and a veteran of many battles. I also learned that there were deep rifts caused by mutual grievances between him and ushatari from Snaga. Yet this fearsome Uruk with eyes of fire and heroic manners was finally admitted into the big camp with his whole clan. From my perspective, he behaved very respectfully, bringing with him a wealth of gifts for the upcoming funeral. The mistrustful eyes of the clan Snaga were, however, always watching him and he was aware of it.
