Kaur - Daemon-born

Description: The Kaur stand roughly seven feet tall and are a heavy, full bodied race. Thick of muscle and anger, their skin radiates their inner fire in its darkened tint. Their eyes seem to radiate a slight glow in the dark as if their fury fuels their body from the inside. They wear no footwear as their feet end in three long talon like toes that are rough and capped with claw-like nails. Their hands end in sharp blackened barbs that does not limit their use. They have a short bone like spike the trails behind their elbow and a protruding ridge alone their foreheads that give them a barbaric look which they despise anyone pointing out. A select few carry on their backs connected to powerful muscles, leathery dark wings. Those who are gifted with a pair are a select group in their society and are regulated to positions of power, station, and importance. They become rulers, warlords and generals in their armies, or the highly mistrusted yet accepted Sangoma.

The Sangoma having different features that are common to the other Kaur. They are sleek in nature. Where the warriors and other Kaur are thick of muscle and heavy, the Sangoma are trim and narrow. They stand a head taller than the other Kaur and have full grown horns that grow from the bony ridge from their foreheads that look similar to a rams horn but black and smooth as glass. They still possess the other characteristics their sharpened claws and bone spikes, but they have no wings. And while they are just as adept as physical combat as the rest of the Kaur, they are also skilled in the ways of magic granted to them by their Creators.

History: Born of the blood of defeated Daemons in the Firstwar, the Kaur are the offspring of the dying of hell itself. When the Daemons battled the Styarm for control both sides fought without quarter. Killing was no option, the destruction of body and soul was the only answer. The blood of the Daemons fell to the crust in the mud and earth. The energies flowing through the fallen blood mixed in the sediment where the fires from the battle in the heavens baked it dry. When the ashes fell and the rain came to wash away the bile the dried clay broke and out clawed the first of the Kuar.

They gathered together and traveled west across the mountains to the deserts of the Sea Sands of Ohajar. They took stock of their surroundings and called it home, fighting among the strange creatures that roamed the lands before them. After years of asking who they were and why they were there, a Daemon who called himself Sadael came to them proclaiming to be one of the creators. They refused to fall to their knees and beg for his approval and divine favor, but he struck them down with a simple swat of his hand and struck fear into their cold hearts. He spoke of the other false creators gathering their forces and removing them from their rightful places. How they should gather their people, claim the Daemon as their Gods and wait for the day of Reckoning. He persuaded them more out of force of arm than a willingness to obey.

Personality: The Kaur are a tough people, having lived in the burning sands of the Ohajar. They are bitter, uncaring for weakness, and willing to take what they desire regardless of who had claim in it before. They favor strength over guile and choose leaders for the battles they have won over the land that they control. They are a stubborn people refusing to be pushed in any direction but willing to be advised in a particular direction if it gains them titles or followers.

Culture: All of the Kaur are warriors, down to the children. While they may be small and seemingly without strength a group of six or more young ones can swarm over an enemy and cause lasting damage. They are vicious warriors and take pride that their heritage is one of strength. Rituals of passage and strength run deep within the ages of the Kaur, as each stage in their life they must accomplish something to prove their worth and continue on in a station of worth and power. Before the children of the Kaur can be accepted as adults and worthy members of society they must become a citizen. To do so they must undergo a two part ritual of sorts. First they must go on display in the Court of the Open Sky and stand naked for two days while they are examined by everyone passing by. If something is seen that is not worthy of the people, a deformity, malformed ridges, damaged or poorly grown wings; they are called out as unworthy and cast out from their home banished from their kin and society. The second part is to defeat a worthy foe. Whether it is another Kaur, an enemy of the people, or a large vicious beast; the worthiness depends the honor they receive from the kill. Sometimes, if more than one youth goes on display at the same time, they will choose to fight each other. While this can have its draw backs as the two youths fighting are both unworthy, it is seen as acceptable for overcoming adversity in the face of failure.

When adults attempt to increase their station of power they must publicly announce their actions and call out the member of society in which they are choosing to replace. Once done, the challenged has two days to accept or give just cause as to why they will not defend the challenge. If the challenge is accepted the two Kaur fight in the town square till only one stands. The option of fighting to the death is up to the two fighting as it isn't required, however often times it is still fought to the death as the loser will often retaliate against the winner and if they succeed in killing the other they are allowed to take the position of the loser. To keep the death toll at a minimum, and to stop some from rising to fast, a rule of seven/five years has been established where once you challenge someone, you have seven years before you can do so again and five years before someone can challenge you.

Their society is simple, they have the ruling caste which consists of their military leaders. The ruling cast consists of thirteen members, the Gerent and the Twelve. The Gerent is the high leader, chosen for his or her skills in battle as well as their control over the Twelve. The Twelve is a common name for the Council of Generals, where the twelve families of Kaur have their highest leader present. These Twelve are representatives of their collective families and are chosen in a similar manner as the Gerent, by being the dominant leader of their Kin. They have no set time of ruling and are displaced when a challenge is set forth or one dies. The Gerent is chosen in the same way, as long as they can stay alive and defeat would be usurpers their rein of rule can last for decades. Few do.

The twelve families, or Kin, are separated in their own countries in the Sea Sands of Ohajar. While to the outside world the everlasting and endless sands of the Ohajar seem hospitable, there are small countries prospering within the wastes. They build their cities among the mountainous rock walls, carving them into the stone to give shade of the beating sun. These stone cities are built deep into the crust down where water sits below the surface. There they grow a large leafy plant similar in shape to mushrooms yet very nourishing. As well as these plants they have stocks of animals similar to camels that they groom for eating. Since they are far to large to ride these animals they breed them to eat.

While trading with the outside world is limited, they need little than what they can not make on their own. They are superb metal smiths. Having dug deep into the crust to build their homes, they found rich supplies of metals for their everyday lives, as well as outfitting their soldiers.

Traits: They are strong and sturdy bodied, able to wield weapons despite their claw-like barbs on their finger tips. They can see marginally in the dark but are hampered in complete blackness. They are nearly immune to natural heat, and fire doing little more than irritating them if exposed to it for short periods of time. Their wings are medium in size, not quite covering them from head to lower leg, and look like the webbing membrane between their fingers and toes. They do not allow them to fly but can be used for quick bursts of movement and short spans of gliding.

Relations: They have an odd sense of family where they feel the need to procreate and build large clan like family followings, but care little for it outside of a need to have one. While they spend little time with and think less about their family they will brutally kill anyone who attempts to harm anyone in their family. Once the threat is removed they go back to treated everyone with a dispassionate attitude. While they have a strong sense of bond with family and blood, it does not correspond to allegiance. They will form alliances out of need and necessity but only do so if they result brings them some form of reward.

Religion: They actually have a fear for their creators they call Daemons. They grudgingly abase to them although it sickens them to do so. They refuse to call it fear and will kill any number of city populations if that accusation was spoken within hearing. The have members of their society that are devote in speaking with their Creators and await the day of Reckoning that was told of them centuries ago. It is a fear of what is stronger then they can imagine that makes them worship the Daemons. Though they share the same blood they share an inner rage and refusal to submit yet submitting to their Creators causes them more anger. Anger at the Creators, all of them, and be damned if they will force them to their games but understanding that to do so is futile.

The Sangoma is the spiritual leader of the Kuar, they have one for each of the twelve families. Outside of their kin however no one knows if there is a headman in charge of the twelve Sangoma. They are chosen at birth by signs and portents to choose a life of the shaman of their people. They claim to speak directly to the Creators and are often times at odds with the Twelve and the Gerent with their passages of the Daemon. They are more feared than respected, which makes them all the more hated and despised.

Creators:

• Adraghan – The scaled Creators who rule the skies with fire and might. That is a worthy site to see. Body armor made of their flesh would scare the other Creators into their place, and possibly one of their heads to mount on our wall to scare the others of our Kin.

• Daemon – What can be said of our own Creators. We lack the love for them, but that is perhaps because we are of them and share their inner heat. We bow to them as proclaimed. But do not ask to much, as we know the stories of the Untold War from their very own lips. We know they can be brought down.

• Faeyi – What is there to say about the one Creator who survived the chaos unscathed? She travels the world in her silence and taking her own council. While we think her weak, we respect her survival.

• Shaedow – Disgusting seekers of the dark. They hide in their shadows and holes only to leap out at the weak. Leap at us, we beg. Creator or no, we will see who the weaker is.

• Styarm – The enemy of our Fathers are our enemy. Little can be said for them except when the last one falls, we will take our place in the heavens ourselves, and possibly show our Creators the err of their ways.

• Tetian – Strength we respect. Even loosing a battle when the odds are against you and surviving, we respect. Hiding and licking your wounds never to seek vengeance, we detest. All those gifts yet the heart of a weakling. Bah, you deserved your loss.

• Velkaryes – Of the Creators we dislike them all, but they show the strength of arm and of sarifice. We respect these soldiers of the Gods and desire one day to put forth steel against theirs in battle.

Godsborn:

• Dracaer – These barbaric scaled beasts are worthy of battle. They say they eat the hearts of their victims to gain their prowess and strength. You will found my heart is no so easily removed from my chest, as it will fight back as well.

• Threy – While we respect their Creator in some manner, we have little to say of these weaklings. More of a walking shrub, break them across our soldiers and use their dead for kindling.

• Shalari – Savage brutes, near to the dead already. They are not worthy to be called warriors. At least the Dracaer eat the hearts of their enemies for a reason. The Shalari eat their enemies because they are sick. I do not want their blood to stain my steel, but I will gladly do it.

• Duavaet – The children of the Styarm. What can be said of those that call themselves the Stormlords? Cast your lightning at me and you shall only hit yourself.

• Tuauan – Slow thinkers one and all. Slow to anger and slow to fight. To bad, make one anger and he would bring an entire mountain down on your head. Worthy enemies if they used their strength of arm instead of their heads.

• G'rar – The progeny of the Velkaryes. Warriors born from the first scream of life. Worthy to be called enemy, possibly ally if they could ever get over their desire to be protectors of the weak. We shall see.

Shalari - Saehdowborn

Description: Gaunt and pale skinned, the Shalari look as if the dead rose from the ground and began living the lives they left behind. Their hair hangs to their waist, long and pale. As lifeless as their cold, dark eyes. A mockery of the living it seems. They are average height yet sickly looking and thin. Their movements are precise as if their joints are stiff and hindered, yet their strength comes not from the body but their inner darkness, their corrupted souls.

History: Born of the shadowy tears of their Creator, the Saehdow, the Shalari crept from the dank and dark places that stank of shadows and death. The battle between the Daemon and the Styarm was most bloodthirsty. Trapped between the two, the Saehdow were no match for the remorseless slaughter of their brothers. Only a handful survived, and hid in the darkest of the deep and wept for their loss. Wept in fear and anger. The shadowed tears pooling among the dregs of dust and decay, the forgotten and dying. The energy of the Necrotic, as the Shalari call it, pulled the dying together. Casting out the unneeded parts and the unwanted weak, the necrotic energy brought to life a sickening form, and thus from shadows of sorrow the Saehdow-born were forged.

On seeing the light of the heavens and the battles that still raged on between the Daemon and the Styarm they felt fear. Fear of the burning light, and pain. The sun, for it still crept through the lightning streaked clouds of the Styarm, burned at their eyes and skin. Causing pain that scolded their soul. Even as their soul was darkened because of the tears of their Creator, it was still a soul and it burned with pain. They went east toward the Shagahli Wastes, alone and burning. They crept toward the mountains where the fires of the inner crust still bloomed into the sky. In a place where the ground still erupted in liquid fire and the smoke kept the sun at bay. The heat from the fire mountains kept the dark place warm, and there the Shalari called home.

Personality: The Shalari are aloof, cold, and as dark as their shadow filled souls. They are cold and calculating, seeking the advantage to any engagement and weighing the price of their work involved. They are not a lazy people, but the choice of physical labor and effort is not highest on their list. Their thoughts are as dark as their moods and uncaring of any and all not in belief of their Creators, the Saehdow. Their entire culture is based off of their religious belief and they worship the Saehdow body and soul. They favor guile and subterfuge over a direct assault on any action, staying in the shadows until the time to strike is perfect for them.

Culture: The Shalari is a theocracy ruled by a single Conyamo chosen by the Saehdow for faithfulness and wicked sacrifices of the flesh, from the rulers of the Elysian Council. They rule the people of the Shalari with portents of pain, anguish, and fear from their Creator Gods.

Below the Conyamo is the royal family which consisted of the Conyamo's immediate family and all his children. The Conyamo's family is above the law as is the Conyamo. While they enjoy the perks of their station, they have no real authority over the rest of the populace but are as high as the Elysian Council. The Elysian Council consists of the leaders of each city state within the boundaries of the Shagahli Wastes. There are twenty seven city states that fall under the rule of the Elysian Council, overseen by the Conyamo. The council is hereditary and chooses their speakers knowing that one may be chosen to be the next Conyamo when the time comes. At the very bottom of their society are commoners, those who are not part of the hereditary birth or punished criminals are forced into labor stations or their armies.

Their cities are built from the volcanic rocks of the surrounding mountains with lake flows of liquid fire flowing a mere hundred yards from their homes. The heat does not bother them and because of the constant warmth wear little in regards to clothing. The thinnest wool is worn which does little to hide the body underneath, in fact showing most of what most cultures cover an caring little for it that it does.

Because of the harsh environment, little can be grown on the steps of the mountains the billow ash and smoke and liquid fire. However, on the edge of their cities the land is lush with growth, the ash feeding the soil making it ripe for vegetation that can thrive in the heat. The woolworms thrive in the trees and are a staple for their clothes and other simple needs of rope and other devices. Sweet fruits, and small swine like animals roam the out edge of these lands.

Also because of the violent nature of the lands, metal is seldom found in decent amounts of worth but a form of malleable gem-like crystal can be found in mass groves. These crystals are used to make what metal normally would. Simple every day items of use, as well as tack for their lizard-like horses, and the weapons that they do use. Their weapons are infected with a sickening taint that they are immune to, but festers a wound quickly and sickens the body.

Traits: By birth, they are not a very strong race. They rely more on their calling of the Necrotic and the powers that it gives them. They can naturally channel this dark power with ease from puberty as it begins coursing through their dark hearts. Similar to the magic of the Duavaet the Stormlords, it is a darker side that infects those that use it from the start. Their vision is poor when in bright light as their home is constantly clouded in the ash of the mountain fires. To protect their eyes from the burning ash they have developed a membrane that covers their dark eyes keeping dirt and material out while allowing them to see. Their nature being hand in hand with the Necrotic, they have a ability to not see in the dark, but see the life force that engulfs their surroundings. This ability makes them able to see the aura of all living things, whether plant, animal or being.

They are the only beings capable of wielding the Necrotic, a dark and evil force of power that infects the user as much as molds to their desires.

Relations: They view family as a way to keep their faith strong. They feel for their family, yet will sacrifice one of them to the Creators without question if asked. They have the same bond toward relations and allegiances. They feel obligated to them as a way of their religious belief, but if the need to separate themselves was required they would do so, and other involved would see it as a way it was to be.

Religion: Their entire race worships these Gods and would willingly cast their children to the Forever Pits of Dohgane. Their daily life revolves around thanking the Saehdow for their existence. Often including the sacrifice of slaves, criminals, or a royal family member. They take great stock of the cycle of the stars, when the can see them, and follow the pattern of the liquid flows of fire to detail their calendars.

The Dead Seekers are priests of the Shalari, are the most feared shock troops let loose on any field of battle. More warrior than priest, they have succumbed to the powers of the Necrotic by dark rituals to the Saehdow and given what small part of their darkened soul they had left for their Creators gifts. They are a form of devastation against any foe. When on the field of battle they wield bolts of Necrotic energies at their foes and striking them down with their fabled crystal Gaesteel blades. Causing fear and the darkness to come alive and fight for them. Powerful, these Death Seekers control the deep focus of the dark and have been known to replace lost limbs with full shadow on the field of battle. Deep injuries are sealed with this shadow form and heal their wounds forever replacing the lost flesh. These Shadow-touched are revered yet feared in their society. Their lost limbs look as shadow but are as solid as the arm or leg replaced. Once most of their bodies are replaced with the Necrotic force, they are overcome with its consuming power and become the Shadow Souled. The Shadow Souled are the assassin and proxy of the Saehdow. They no longer live in concert with the rest of the Shalari, they trek to the bowels of the Saerthera and the Corridor of Souls where they speak with the Saehdow directly. They are then elevated to a status of just short of becoming an Avatar of the Creator.

Those chosen to be the next Conyamo are brought to the bowels of the Saerthera to the Corridor of Souls, and left without food or water. The trek takes weeks with aid, traveling the vast pools of liquid fire and over hardened crust that could break away into a flaming pool at the slightest footstep. There the chosen faces the Saehdow in their natural forms. Only the Conyamo ever sees them and lives, yet refuse to speak of the test forever after.

One Conyamo that was able to find his way out without his senses, returned babbling the same poem over and over. It wasn't long before he jumped into the Forever Pits of Dohgane screaming the rhyme as he fell to his doom.

Another day in this corridor of souls.

Another night settles in as quickly as it goes.
The memories are shadows; blank on the page.
And I can't seem to find my way home.

And it's almost like,
Heaven's trying everything,
To break me down,
Heaven's trying everything,
To keep me out.

Creators:

• Adraghan – The dark fliers of the Creators. Now they seem worthy of praise at times, but they are not our Creator and therefore not worthy of us.

• Daemon – They stand not far off from the Styarm. We hope they are watching when our Mother burns the eyes of her Brother Styarm. Then they shall know what it feels like to hide in the darkness as they fall one by one.

• Faeyi – The sisters of our Mother. She hides in her hole, but it is not unreasonable. We will save her and hers for last.

• Saehdow – They are our Creators and we are obedient.

• Styarm – The most hated and vile, we do not even call them Creators. We have a plan for them.

• Tetian – Of the Creators the simple minded one at best we feel no anger or fear for. Let him sleep his dreams away into nothing.

• Velkaryes – Their day to our night. We respect their vigil but will turn them on their children in the end.

Godsborn:

• Kaur - Disgusting beasts. Their barbaric behavior belies the fact they have a society that prospers. To bad they are no more than beasts to us. Even my dokongi half breed is smart, but as dogs go probably the more loyal of the two.

• Dracaer - Somehow these mutants crawled from their creator's backside and somehow that is grounds for being granted intelligence. It is sad what can pass off as an intelligent race.

• Threy - Frail, worthless, and a hapless race. They stay in their green pastures and leafy forests and sing praise to their Creator. The only singing they will voice soon is their cries to their dead.

• Duavaet - The Stormlords. We spit on the ground their feet soil with their passing. Arrogant to the last, they will rue the day when the feel the wrath of our Creator and what their Gods did. They will know pain at falling, and from their high perch it is a long fall.

• Tuauan - What can be said of a mere beast of burden? You do not speak ill of the oxen that pull the cart, they simply do it. The Tuauan are similar, we think they live simply to just be there. Sad tale, not worth our effort.

• G'rar - Worthy of power as they wrest it from the others to bad they choose to use that power defending the lands. Possibly worth the time to make allies, if they can understand their place under our heel.