Deep in a forgotten corner of Ilshenar, you find a small village of simple people who live freely and honorably. They call themselves the people of Chaos simply because they are not the people of Order. Their ways certainly seem far more chaotic than the pomp and ceremony of the civilized "people of Order." However, only the old shamans really know or hold true to any of the ancient beliefs. As a whole, they are barbarians who value glory and honor in combat and hunting just as so many do even among those more civilized. They are strong, honest, and courageous and live peacefully as long as they are not provoked. Go there. Hear their tales and learn their ways for in them mysteries unravel and legends abound.
You venture into the village and find a bold and powerful looking warrior in the barracks. Even more bold and powerful than him is his mount! His mount is a tiger! Seeing the look of awe on you face the warrior approaches you and begins to speak...
Only the bravest and strongest men of our people ride the great tiger. To ride a tiger is both a show of strength and courage as well as status. Naturally not many ride such mighty beast. Many of those who have tried have died in the attempt. Let me tell you the story of the great warrior Barak who set this standard of strength and bravery by which all others after him have lived and died.
Barak was a strong warrior in a crumbling nation of people. They were a brave and strong people who loved freedom, but they were a people without a leader. Marauders ravaged their lands, and dark lords of stronger nations threatened to take them. So far they had survived despite the odds, but doom drew near as a fierce band of marauders joined forces with a dark general of the death armies to crush them in one great battle. Every day they marched ever closer. As the time of the battle loomed over our people, their heart melted. They began to fight each other in fear and anxiety. Some called for surrender and others for battle and honor. Of those who wanted to fight, there was none to rally them or to lead them. They were divided and would soon fall.
Barak, seeing the distress of his people knew he had to take command and bring them together. He tried to stand before them and call them to arms and inspire them to fight, but they would not listen. Every warrior with any courage to fight wanted to lead his family and friends into battle, but no one could bring them all together. Barak needed a way to inspire them and make them listen to him.
The tiger is a respected and feared creature among the people, but at that time no one had thought to ride one! If Barak could bring a tiger into the camp, or if he could ride it into camp, that would surely cause them to listen! There was only one great tiger that he knew was near enough to find in time, Rakka the white tiger, one of the most feared of all tigers.
Barak took his axe and shield and ventured forth into the forest hills. As he came near the edge of the forest and into the mountains he found the cave of the beast. Without hesitation he boldly stepped inside, and it was then he first heard the fierce growl of Rakka. In an instant she was upon him teeth and claws tearing at his shield! With a tremendous blow she knocked the shield from him and then leapt to make the kill, but Barak's focus was calm and clear. It would take more than a few quick attacks to break him. He stepped to the side as she lunged passed him. He then swung the brunt side of his axe in a wide sweep landing a strong hit directly to her head. She stumbled back against the cave wall dazed by the unexpected attack. She growled at him once more and began to circle him coming only slightly closer with each pass. Barak stood his ground not taunting with growls or words of his own but staring her directly in the eyes. She wisely knew better than to attempt another pouncing attack, but what would be her next move he wondered. He didn't have to wait long for his answer. With a sudden burst of speed, she dove low grabbing his leg in her jaws and yanking him to the ground. Her teeth cut down even into the bone, but she did not maintain the grip. She released his leg then quickly went for his neck. He rolled to his back and threw up his arm just in time to catch the bite that would have been his throat. He quickly swung his axe once more landing another broadside blow to her head. As she fell to the ground now he moved to attack! She quickly rolled to her feat but he leapt to her back and put her into a choke hold with his free arm while landing another hit to the head with the end of his axe forcing her back to the ground. It was a victorious moment but short lived as she rolled and violently threw herself up on her hind legs and backward to the ground crushing his head against the floor. Now dazed and momentarily blacked out, he released his hold enough for her to escape and bring another attack upon him. Once again he narrowly blocked her jaws with his arm, but this time before he could attack again, she used her claws to knock him away before trying again to attack. Barak rolled to the side just missed by her pounce. He knew that if he had any chance to win this fight, he had to get behind her, so as she landed her pounce beside him, he rolled back again and threw his arm around her neck for another choke hold. Again, she leapt to her hind legs to throw herself back and break his hold as before, but his time he knew what to expect and forced her balance to fall to the side instead. She kicked and clawed but could not break his grip. At last she ceased her struggle for a moment of resting. He had finally worn her down, but it might still be too late. He was weak as well now from loss of blood and would soon black out. He could feel the exhaustion taking over as his eyes grew darker. He had one last desperate hope.
"Rakka," he began speaking to her, "We have respected each other for many years. You have lived peacefully in your cave, and we have lived peacefully in our villages. I do not come to break your trust. I come to earn it. I could have killed you any number of times in this fight and could even do so now, but I have risked my life to spare yours. I do not come to kill you. I come because I need your help. My people are in great danger. I cannot save them, but we can. Please Rakka, spare my life as I have spared yours and help me save my people so that we may both continue to live in peace..."
Barak awoke in a small medicine hut. He was covered in bandages and had a cool wet cloth on his forehead. "What happened? Where am I?" he asked as he opened his eyes his vision slowly beginning to focus again. "As to where you are," an old shaman replied, "you are home in the village. As to what happened, we are hoping you can tell us," he said as his gaze shifted off to the side. Barak slowly turned his head following the old man's gaze, "Rakka!" he sat up and exclaimed as he saw the tiger sitting by his bedside. "She has not left your side since she brought you here," the shaman told him. "It was not a dream... and you heard me... Thank you Rakka," he said wearily. He lay back down excited but still very exhausted. He took a long deep breath then turned back to her, "You did not bring me here to sleep. We have work to do."
A few painful minutes later, Barak came out from the hut. All eyes were upon him in nearly unbelieving amazement. He rode forth battle axe and shield in hand on his mount, the tiger, Rakka! When he spoke the people listened, and when he called for their allegiance and support, they gave it. He rode through the villages and lands and gathered all the warriors throughout into his army. He united the people under a single banner and with the singular cause to gain victory and freedom in the coming battle, and this they did in that battle and every other battle afterward. The people remain free and courageous even to this day and great warriors still follow in his path.