The Fleabirds are a group of people indigenous to North America who have rejected the collectivism and sedentary lifestyle inherent in the Cosmic Era. Rather than living in the gleaming arcologies, steaming geofronts, or the great heaps of the urban rims and favelas. Rather, they live in caravans that travel the countryside of the continent.
'You don't step into the ring with Ali because you think you can box.
These Trolls travel land and sea in an eternal search for their next war. The Host of Battle—for they have no other name for themselves—is part mercenary army, part ethnicity.
The omens read a difficult birth Daughter. Seek the sisters of Lutgardis and they will ease your pain and bring a new life into this world and with a touch of luck keep one in it.
Sister Gwevenese Rabaste
Masters of the sea, men of courage and honor, these you will find here and none other.
A loose organization of heros who have toppled regimes, the Brothers of Dusk and Dawn have given their lives to the Gods of Chaos, becoming potent agents of change through out the known worlds…
The Twilight Tunnels, the Imperial Gate system, was the backbones of the Imperium. The ability to travel almost anywhere via the Twilight Tunnels, allowing for near unlimited trade for little money, quick communication (any message anywhere nearly instantly (or within 3 days for the hinterlands), and easy personal travel. The Order was charged with the creation, maintance, and defense of The Gate System.
The Guild of Messengers is one of the few guilds/ orders accepted in every civilized and many near civilized lands. The Messengers know only their own special language and script (though they might know how to speak A dozen or so languages, they are prohibited to be literate in any other tongue). They are the tool of civilization, allowing for communication to be passed across the world (and the occasional small item as well).
The Clan is the original unit of social organization for the people of The Known World. Humanti society is becoming more diverse. The Guild or professional organization is taking the fore in the Known World. Except on the Sea.
The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It's a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. "Stay very still," he warns. "Don't move at all."
"What is it?" you ask, breathlessly.
"It's the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it's about to eat that yak..."