Born out of necessity to survive in a harsh desert environment, the Ramal Nations have risen from nomadic bands of raiders to prosperous city-states through the organization of brilliant and ruthless leaders who saw a better path for their people. These Ramaltas united bands of raiders to settle around what natural resources they had to cultivate them, growing and mining new wealth instead of simply taking from each other. They never fully abandoned the predatory tactics of the early raiders, but these strategies have been adapted to serve in trade and diplomacy as well as the battlefield.
Isolated from most other peoples by the conditions of the Sand Seas, the chaos springing up after the fall of the Republic means less to the Ramal Nations than to most of Konagara. Nevertheless, fierce internal competition has honed the Ramaltas and their armies to never let an advantage pass them by, and so raiding bands have been mobilized on a scale not seen since before the city-states to see what opportunities lie beyond their borders.
The Ramal Nations do not maintain a standing army like Arkland, nor do they live under constant, violent attack from their surroundings like the Forest Tribes. Instead, the primary struggle of their people is one of finding resources and shelter from the cruel conditions of the Sand Seas. The rise of the Ramaltas did much to help their people propser, but the lessons of those early years are enshrined in the memory of Ramal culture.
So it is that each city-state jockeys for advantage and position with each other, seeking to claim whatever it can by whatever means necessary. The marching of organized columns of soldiers is alien to the Ramal way of warfare, but when the need or chance of profit is great, they are no strangers to organizing large-scale military effort. Swords flash in the bright desert sun, and in dim lamplight in shadowed alleys alike, so long as there is power at stake.
The Ramaltas rule the open streets of their city-states, and the deserts between their realms, but some would say the Blood Cults rule the shadows. Secretive organizations devoting to discovering the power contained within all living things, these cults study the deadly art of blood magic, gaining knowledge at a terrible price. And yet, the Ramaltas not only tolerate, but secretly sanction their activities, so long as the blood mages and blood cult assassins who serve them direct their deadly arts towards ends that serve the rulers.
Guard duty was boring, dull and dreary, but the Ramaltas must be protected at all times, and so Hosni stood at the door to the office where his lord conducted business day in and day out. Today, he had been standing at the door for five hours, and was beginning to think fondly of a change in the guard, and the meals he could buy at the bazaar when he was free to leave, when he heard the slightest of sounds out of place. A footstep, where no one should be walking. Hosni listened carefully, showing no sign he had noticed, and waited. Minutes passed, and then, without warning, he thrust his spear behind him just so, and there was a scream. He sighed. Guard duty was boring, dull, and dreary, and now he would have to help clean up after another foolish assassin before he was free to visit the bazaar. The Ramaltas did hate seeing bloodstains on his polished floors.
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