The tales say we were many in the beginning, that we came from another land that was long ago destroyed. We were and still are a happy folk and we had many friends.

One day, as we were celebrating, a man came to our camp and as was usual we invited him in. This, my children, was our mistake and was to be our curse. This man was a necromancer and he wanted us to serve him. We refused we loved life, why then would we cheat death and serve chaos? In rage he cursed us, saying that we would forever wander never to settle in any land and that we would forever be outcasts. He then disappeared and we laughed. The next day our land was destroyed by forces we could not contend with, undead stormed our homes, and many of us died or worse.

The survivors ran, we sought safety and refuge, but wherever we went it was always the same, we were refused for any number of reasons. We fled and regrouped on a mountain. Gathering we drew a circle and all there drew knives and shed blood on the earth. We vowed to forever serve balance, and to protect the land. When the last drop soaked into the ground a strange feeling came over us, the land seemed to embrace us. A voice was heard telling us that we would be cursed to wander yes, but we would be able to adopt those humans of like mind to be gypsy, and that our blood being spilt to protect we had now the ability to curse those who would cause our deaths.

We have wandered ever since protecting Tyrra and life. We revel in life and preserve it at all costs. Undead are our sworn enemies as are the werewolves. The werewolves? Why that is a tale for another time.

Another story? Have you heard the story of Aleandro Kalderasha my children? No? Why then I will tell you.

Long ago an evil necromancer wanted the destruction of all Gypsies so she called forth four great undead named Hunger, Bad Luck, Bad Health, and Unhappiness. They traveled throughout the land, laying it waste, spreading pestilence in their wake. One Gypsy warrior had the courage to stand and face the Horrors-Aleandro Kalderasha. He rode forth on his great steed to face them. Upon him came Bad Luck for the evil creatures had decided to split up so as to increase the range of suffering. Upon seeing his intended foe -- pus filled sockets staring down at him, steaming jaws dripping poison between dagger-like teeth, claws blackened with Gypsy blood --Aleandro, thinking better of his actions, turned tail, and fled, for none could hold his courage in the face of such a monstrocity. Bad Luck gave chase until a shoe flew from Aleandro's steed and flew like an arrow into the horrors head, slaying him on the spot. Aleandro turned back, retrieved the shoe, went home, and hung it above his door in remembrance of the event. Meanwhile, Hunger, Bad Health, and Unhappiness heard of their brothers plight and vowed to avenge him. That night they crept to Aleandro's house and began to open the door. But looking up they saw the horseshoe above the door. Unhappiness spoke then in a voice like gravel, "My brothers, there are three of us, and that horse has three shoes remaining." Being cowards at heart like all undead ilk, they turned and fled, never to return to that land. This is why the horseshoe is considered a symbol of good luck for our people. But remember those horrors, my children. Remember the destruction that necromancy can cause to the land. Remember, and be ever a foe of undead, for the earth will surely punish you, if you of its chosen people, stray from its paths.

Another story my children? Very well.

Our tradition in selecting monarchs King or Queen came with a man named Nicolaos. A vile dragon appeared upon a time and lay waste to the earth, and so Nicolaos rose up to stop its destruction. He forged himself claws of iron and wrapped himself in the hides of seven oxen. Thus equipped, he called the dragon down and challenged it, not to a test of strength, but to a test of luck. The wager? Their skins. The dice were thrown and Nicolaos lost. In went the dragons claws and off came an oxhide. And Nicolaos called for the dice. Again they were cast, and again Nicolaos lost. Another hide came off, and as Nicolaos called for the dice, the dragon began to sweat. The dice were cast once more, and this time baxt was with Nicolaos. In went his claws of iron and off came the dragon's hide. The dragon died, and Nicolaos was left with a lovely souvenir for his vardo. (Some say armor was made of the hide.) And he stood before the people and thus he spoke: "My brothers, my sisters, the great Aleandro Kalderasha taught us well, and today the lesson is repeated; it is better to be lucky than to be good.

Yes, yes there are more tales, but that is enough for now. Now off with you. And pleasant dreams.


The Gypsy

Family Dilinations


Racial Customs


Magic and WAr

Gypsy Law

Gypsy Language

Out of Play