Many thought that Tabitha, the Queen of the city, was foolish for taking over ruins set in the heart of the Bone Sea. Many others thought she was utterly mad for inviting every magic user in Deadwood to her kingdom. What cemented Tabitha as truly insane was taking Exusia and using magic to raise it into the sky far out of the reach of anyone in Deadwood. Using magic to turn the place into a self-sustaining utopia, she has eliminated the issue of Deadwood being unsustainable. She only makes brief contact with the land below for trade, other than that her people live in peace. With what they have, they have created Exusia, a land where everyone pitches in to keep the machine going. Many would kill to get up into Exusia.

And now they are.

The Desolation stands at the very northern tip of Deadwood, a land so cursed and hostile that not even the bravest or stupid adventurer would enter the land. When you step into Desolation; the ground is charred to ash, the sky is masked by a thick layer of dust. Many can tell something terrible happened here and the few brave and skilled enough to enter and make it out alive tell about the ruined cities and the charred skeletons that litter the land. Desolation is easily being Deadwood's most dangerous and hostile region and many who venture into the land are never seen again. There are rumors of great wealth within the ruins, yet with all the monsters, hostile weather, and Grief demons, many think it's far more trouble than its worth... especially with the legendary Beast of Sorrow that lurks the land.

Easily the second most dangerous and hostile region of Deadwood. Due to its proximity to the northernmost parts of Deadwood, its not as hot as the rest of the place. However, the Sorrowfields is lurking with many, many, different monsters. So many that most try not to avoid them altogether. The terrain in the Sorrowfields is not especially diverse with large plains for miles. The Sorrowfields have many ruins of cities destroyed and civilizations that never got their start. Some worth plundering... some are more trouble than they're worth.

Spanning from the southwest to the central mountain chains dividing New Kaimeria from the rest of the continent, the Bone Sea is a strange location in the land of Deadwood. The harshest region of the land, The sun harshly bears down on all who dare enter - the terrain consisting of large swathes of desert and arid, rocky terrain. The oddity of the Bone Sea is that the name is literal, for as far as the eye can see the bone Sea is littered with nothing but the bones of various sentient and non-sentient creatures, from the horned skulls of grazing beasts to colossal leviathans that dwarf cities in their size, foreshadowing that something truly horrific once took place here. Equally foreboding are the skeletal ruins of failed cities that have long since been reclaimed by the sands, with Alphos being the only example of a city that has sustained a population over the centuries.

Though not entirely devoid of life, only the hardiest of creatures survive in the Bone Sea - monsters and hardy beasts that serve only to contribute to the mass of rotting carcasses that eventually join the countless other bones littering the desert. As harsh and unstainable it is, even the Kaimerians steer clear, with all weary of the Beast of Suffering that lurks throughout the Sea, emerging at what seem to be random intervals

Despite this, Alphos and Exusia rest in the Bone Sea, alongside the fiercely independent nomads often referred to collectively as the Bone Clans, each adhering to their own customs, rituals, and rivalries, with blood feuds that can be measured along decades, if not centuries. Though the Bone Clans are predominantly human, other races have been adopted into their numbers from intermarriage and infants captured in raids. Among these clans are customs deemed peculiar even by the standards of Deadwood, including ritual cannibalism of the dead as a means of the funerary rite for friend and foe alike - for no resource should be wasted.

So-called Outlanders and Wetfeet from the north are often derided as weak and decadent, with some clans treating such foreigners with passive irreverence while others act with open hostility - more so as one travels towards the Sea's interior. Only in Alphos are foreigners tolerated without grievance.

Though largely decentralized, the clans are known to acknowledge if not outright defer to the judgment of the Lord of Bones, a title bestowed upon rulers able to unify the clans against a common cause.

The mantle of the Lord of Bones has passed through the hands of various concurrent clans over the centuries, one historic trend being that a life sheltered behind its walls left each successive generation of rulers weaker than the last, until finally one of the other clans seek the opportunity to seize power and overthrow the existing rulers. Now, the mantle is bestowed not by lineage but by an assembly of the nomads - and only to the strongest of contenders - yet none have emerged since the last Lord of Bones was killed by Kaimerian raiders a decade ago.

Nestled in the desert passes between the mountains, Alphos is one of the last major settlements before travelling further southwards into the barren interior of the Bone Sea. It consists of a single, towering fortress known as the Citadel of Bones, surrounded by an oasis which itself has been built over and walled off from the harsh terrain beyond.

It is not known whom or what built Alphos, only that it stood for many centuries abandoned, though ignored by the Beast of Suffering until it was finally claimed by the Bone Clans, all of whom eventually came to agree that the city would stand as neutral ground on which the nomads would temper, if not entirely set aside their blood feuds - through fistfights are known to frequently result in broken teeth and gouged eyes. Even Outlanders are tolerated within the city walls, though few are allowed to enter the Citadel.

The Citadel of Bones rests at the heart of Alphos, a foreboding structure that casts a large shadow. Though time has been unkind to the fortress, with deep cracks and other signs of disrepair forming in its ancient walls, the Citadel is nonetheless revered by the Bone Clans and recognized as a seat of power for the Lord of Bones, a nominated leader recognized in times of war or crisis. In the absence of a Lord, various clansmen will periodically assemble to represent their respective clans' interests in the throne room.

Regardless of history, all clans are welcome within the Citadel and it is seen as a grievous breach of customs to kill or expel clansmen without good cause and even the most insignificant of clans will be defended to the death by others if their rights are not respected by another party.

The Shattered Isles is a dense chain of islands, forming the archipelago dividing Dakora from the mainland. Treacherous to navigate by land and sea, the Isles play host to pirates, slavers, and free companies willing to sell their services to the highest bidder. Though once held under Dakora's control, today the Isles have further regressed into the chaotic lawlessness that welcomes such an ill reputation. Though merchants and fishermen alike continue to ply their trade along the rivers and coastlines which surround the archipelago, all have learned to fear the approach of raiding longships, for few ever return once clasped in chains.

Separated from the mainland by the Shattered Isles to the northeast, Dakora rose from the ruins of a trading post fed by access to rivers and wayfaring routes. A mere century ago, the Dakoran city-state had carved out an Empire that stretched across the isle and over the surrounding archipelago, halted only by the Kaimerians to the south. Today, it remains an Empire in name only - one domineered not by its Emperor but by a series of powerful vassals who have rendered the Dakoran Throne a puppet to their ambitions. Decadent and rife with corruption, Dakora has grown insular without a strong hand to steer its course and few would dare antagonize the Lords and their stranglehold over the key to power.

One of the most infamous locations in Deadwood is naturally a hive of crime and villainy near New Kaimeria. Darington was originally a kingdom set up in one of the ruins that rebuilt the place and prospered. A tyrant ruled the kingdom with an iron fist - owning slaves, starting wars, and more - until he was unceremoniously killed and the Kingdom fell into disarray... becoming a lawless land as the city lost all sense of order. Now adays, Darington is the slaver capital of Deadwood as hundreds are taken from their homes and sold like cattle. Or forced to fight for the amusement of the onlookers. Darington attracts all sorts of criminals, bandits, and other slavers seeking good wares obtained through illegitimate means.

The fruits of the labor of the Kaimerian Kratocracy, originally several independent cities that stood in southern Deadwood. Ten years ago, Kaimerians gathered power underground, when the moment came the Kaimerians broke free of their underground prison and attacked. The attack was sudden and before anyone could react the Kaimerians had cut a swathe through Deadwood. Many were killed and many were sent wandering into the land of Deadwood without a home (often a death sentence). When the Kaimerians were stopped they maintained their nation, which they named New Kaimeria - few bother them out of fear of another war. The Kaimerians prosper because they have evolved to thrive in rough, hostile environments like Deadwood. Little is known of the nation, as anyone who enters is attacked and killed by the Kaimerians - and Kaimerians aren't the most talkative sort.

An ironic name for one so close to the cursed ruins of the Desolation, Hope was founded by a cabal of escaped slaves seeking refuge to the north, far from the slavers and pirates that perused the Shattered Isles, or the Kaimerians scouring the south. Life in Hope is one of toil and struggle, but freedom - the frigid climate and dangers from the neighbouring Sorrowfields and Desolation deter all but the most foolhardy of slavers from approaching, at the cost of being equally hazardous for the town itself. Its people are a tough, hard-working lot who take a dim view of the degeneracy that plagues Deadwood and would sooner be left to build a life for themselves without interference.

Situated on the westernmost peninsula, Ethos is a sprawling port-city guarded by an ocean to the west and a bay to its east, with would-be attackers forced to approach from its well-guarded northern flank, where lookouts and fortifications have been established from coast-to-coast. Most of its people live, work and die in a dense woodwork of slums, with a wealthier merchant class presiding over the city's day-to-day affairs and Patricians elected from this class, informally dubbed the Sea Kings, given the final authority over such decisions - ambivalent to the wants or needs of the people. Though slavery is not actively promoted or even permitted by Ethosi law, this has not prevented the city's most rich and powerful from clandestinely returning with indentured servants at their private quarters. Despite this, trade with the free town of Hope farther north along the coastline does take place and travelers between the two are not entirely uncommon.

Ethos is known for its rivalry with the neighboring mountain stronghold of Orthos, with which it has competed as an economic power for years. Mercenaries from all corners of Deadwood reside here, waiting for the latest contract from the Sea Kings to march on Orthosi interests and vice versa, in a series of stablemates and proxy wars which never seem to end as men spend lives even less frugally than their coin.

A fortress resting at the foot of the mountain chain dividing central Deadwood from the Sorrowfields, Orthos is the hardier twin to the coastal hub of Ethos, with heavy outer walls. Much of Orthos rests within the bowels of the mountain, where countless hands desperately carved their homes and livelihoods out of the stone and discovered mineral wealth. Unlike Ethos, slavery is permitted and openly practiced - fed by trade from the east - and both frre laborers and slaves alike toil away in the mines, day and night, extracting material wealth from the mountains to swell the purses of the so-called Stone Lords, the ruling political class elected by so-called freemen of the city with sufficient property of their own to cast a vote for eligible candidates.

Within the city itself, property is highly valued with an entire cavity of subterranean habitation deemed as valuable as an estate above the surface. The greater elevation one's residence is, the higher their social station - with the lowest being at greater depths where one may not see sunlight for days, if not weeks. The conditions are far from pleasant, with the hazards of mining work a constant danger in the form of choking dust and tunnel collapses.

Orthos remains locked in a fierce rivalry with its neighboring port-city of Ethos due to the two's conflicting sphere of influence and, much like its rival, it is known to welcome mercenaries from across the land to fight in trade wars when needed. Whether spent in the mines or on the field of battle, Orthos views lives as cheap.

A secluded realm etched into the caverns and dungeons within the mountains west of the Shattered Isles, the Karlezek Enclaves are all that remains of the once-proud empire of Gran Karlezen. There used to be a hundred strongholds of the Karlezek, but in the wake of the cataclysm, only a dozen remained, with six of these fortress cities guarding the entrance of the river that cuts into the middle of the mountain range. However, not even these remaining holds were completely safe from the cataclysm; the deepest levels of some have been abandoned due to what is believed to be an infestation of monstrous creatures, while others had their populations severely depleted by a plague. In the dead holds and halls of their fallen cities, operational magishells stalk the shadows, aggressively guarding the treasures of their slaughtered masters. Only the bravest or most foolish of adventurers dare trespass in these darkened halls, as the sentinels are silent, merciless, and tireless. Though a mere shadow of their former selves, the Karlezek Enclaves are nonetheless a formidable force, especially when united by a common purpose. Theirs is one of the more stable realms in the land of Deadwood, protected by their hardy warriors and the treacherous environment of the mountains. A Karlezek hold is a welcome respite for the tired trader and traveler, but a deathtrap for anyone seeking to harm its inhabitants.

Magic is incredibly rare in the land of Deadwood and for good reason. In the centuries after the Cataclysm, magic was blamed for the event and the current state of things (primarily blamed for the Grief Demon's appearance in the physical world). Magic is a learned art, not an inherent one - one that has to be taught. Reading through tomes and practicing spells is how many use magic, but the best way is to have a magic-user teach another. However, both are difficult as magic practitioners are despised and persecuted by the masses of Deadwood. Most magical tomes and literature has been destroyed and only a few remain completely legible... and most magic users are dragged out onto the streets and brutally murdered by lynch mobs weary of arts they don't understand.

The tomes contain instructions on how to utilize spells, and they take countless hours of practice in order to utilize them. Opposed to traditional forms of magic, magic in the land of Deadwood is utilized by ritual. Instructions for many of these rituals are laid out in the tomes but they require resources and preparations. Such as chanting a phrase, drawing sigils into the environment, arranging stones in a certain way, and even sacrifice. Through this, fantastic and unnatural abilities can be unlocked. Teleportation, healing, elemental magic, and more.

There exist powerful and dangerous spells out there in Deadwood... though they're well hidden.

It is unknown exactly what the Grief-Demons are, or what their true goal is, but they seem to be going out of their way to spreading as much sadness, anger, and hatred across the land. They're powerful demons that appear seemingly in random, and wherever they appear, pain follows.

Grief-Demons are incredibly powerful, having access to an unfamiliar yet dangerous form of magic, without any apparent weaknesses or drawbacks along with boasting incredible degrees of strength, regeneration, and durability that establish them as more than a match for whatever the world of Deadwood has to offer. Their regenerative factor allows them to quickly recover from most wounds, though there is a limit to how much they can recover from before they simply cannot regenerate anymore - after that threshold has been crossed, they can be incapacitated, even killed - though there are not many left alive to boast of it.

However, Grief Demons are capable of taking the form of anything - or anyone - that they desire, down to the finest facial features. If one has the displeasure of encountering a Grief-Demon, you'll see its horrendous form. The Grief-Demons have zero consistent forms between each other. Some are humanoid with wings, others are tentacles, and others... incomprehensible. Many have disjointed limbs or bodies that are contorted in such horrific ways that it should be impossible for them to function.

It is unknown what the Grief Demons are after, but when they appear, they aim to cause as much suffering as possible. Making the land of Deadwood worse for everyone. They go after those trying to improve Deadwood and ruin all their endeavors especially.

Perhaps the most feared and the one beast that the land of Deadwood knows next to nothing about. Sailors who attempt to venture out too far into the ocean tell the tale of a massive, serpentine beast so enormous that its tail seems to span the horizon and beyond to wrap around the whole world, though survivors of encounters with it have given different accounts of its general appearance and behavior. Some claim it bears a city on its back, others say that it's the most horrific sea-serpent they've seen, but all consistently report the creature as responsible for causing their shipwrecks, though these survivors have often noted that the Beast never seemed to directly attack their boats, only block their path with its bulk. However, there have been many thousands who ventured out never to return, and, for this reason, few dare enter the waters while even fewer ever dare venture beyond sight of the shores.

Known as the scourge of the Bone Sea, it is a colossal creature that dwarves cities. A massive, lumbering and hairy creature with stone formations painfully protruding from its body. It lumbers around the Bone Sea with enormous chains lashed to its back, painfully dragging a massive stone structure almost as large as its own body and leaving behind deep gouges in the sands wherever it treads. The Beast of Suffering wanders the Bone Sea, attacking - or perhaps more accurately - trampling all beings that it comes in contact with, surprisingly nimbler and quicker than its great bulk would suggest. The Bone Clans are known to both fear and revere it, with some almost worshipping it as a god in its own right.

Wandering the Desolation to aggressively defend the ruins from incursion is the Beast of Sorrow. A towering and decrepit monstrosity reminiscent of a castle given humanoid form, with disproportionate limbs and a skeletal appearance, forever clutching a sword that would dwarve most spires. Though its stonework form appears close to ruin, visibly cracked and almost falling apart, to suggest it is weak would be a grave error - it's still the most powerful entity in the continent and none have proven capable of contending with it. It is impervious to all but the strongest attacks, it is strong, and it is fast and will defend the ruins in Desolation to its last breath.

One of the most common kinds of people in Deadwood, you can find humans just about anywhere. They are incredibly diverse, as they come in many shapes and sizes, and being able to survive in practically any environment. A jack of all trades, as humans have many strengths, but no area that they excel in. However, humans have one strength that no other race have; Phenotypic Plasticity. Humans, for one reason, have the most mutable DNA out of all the races of Deadwood. Introduce humans to a different environment, or to a certain kind of magic, then maybe a new race can spawn. In addition, Humans are capable of cross-breeding with any other race.

The strongest race in all of Deadwood, the Goliaths are a race of Humanus that are gigantic in size. They are eight to twelve feet tall (though, there are distant legends and myths about a Goliath that was twenty feet tall). They have very strong limbs, very large hands and feet, and very thick skin.

They are a race of people that inhabited the coldest mountains in Deadwood, known as the Gronoth mountains near Othos in the Sorrowfield. Adapted to the cold, they were champions in their territory... until they were ran out by bandits and the monsters that lurk there. Forced into the harsh desert, the Goliaths are slowly dying out as they find land for them. The Goliaths are a powerful warrior race that just used their superior strength. As few races are equipped to deal with a giant sword or ax being swung at them. Goliaths are known for their weaponry, which is stated to be the best in the land.

Goliaths are known for their warrior customs. They give great honor to the bravest and most moral of the Goliath warriors. For every great kill a Goliath warrior receives, they are marked with a tattoo. The more beasts they slay, the more they receive these tattoos until they cover their body. Thus, the best Goliath warriors are covered from head to toe with tattoos. The Goliaths with more tattoos tend to wear less clothing casually to proudly display their tattoos to the world.

At their peak, the Goliaths could have given even the strongest Deadwood army a hassle, but now... the Goliath people are dying out. The Goliaths are best suited for cold environments, and they never had the highest birth rate, to begin with. The Goliath people are scattered around the lands, with the few who remember their customs desperately trying to uphold them. It seems like a futile effort given how little giants are left, and how ill-equipped they are to deal with the threats Deadwood has to offer. Most Giants crossbreed with Humanus and many humans have Goliath DNA.

A majority of the Goliath people are in Hope, but many are amassing in Exusia due to its colder air.

The strongest power in all of Deadwood have to be the Kaimerian Kratocracy. They're a powerful military race of monstrous humanoids that are larger, and more monstrous than even some of the monsters. The Kaimerians are massive in size, standing at six-ten minimum, and having large body mass. They appear like prey animals with their eyes forward, and scaly. The Kaimerians are seen as savage, due to the way their fight, and how they follow no rule of war but their own - however they are far from it. They have an highly orderly military, and all warriors must follow the most important rule of the Kaimerian code of honor: never fight what cannot fight back. Any Kaimerian who breaks this rule is declared dishonorable and expelled Kaimerian society (Or killed).

The Kaimerians are stated to be the perfect race to inhabit Deadwood, they are adapted to harsh, brutal environments, and can breed very quickly. So quickly, they could easily overtake Deadwood - They would if it wasn't for the fact that they breed as quickly as they die. They aren't overtaking Deadwood anytime soon, but they are still incredibly numerous. As for the Kaimerian's physical abilities, they are very strong, and durable, being able to give even the best fighter trouble. In addition, they have a healing factor that allows them to bounce back from wounds very quickly (Not instantly, but they need time to recover). Their brute strength makes them one of the strongest races in Deadwood.

Kaimerian society is dominated by two things; their religion, and their females. Due to how Kaimerian birthrates work, females are born very rarely, instead, males are born a lot more often. Thus, female Kaimerians are revered as sacred and go nowhere near the battlefield (in fact, few know that there's even a female gender). The females aren't as violent as the males and are instead treated as leaders. The females lead the Kaimerians as a whole and being the ones who designate chieftains.

The Kaimerians are separated into several different tribes that are still reigned in by the female Kaimerians. The tribes do whatever they please, destroying all that comes in their path if they please. However, every now and then, there is a mating season in which Kaimerians cease activities, and gather together. This is where the strongest Kaimerians are selected to mate with the females to breed the next generation of Kaimerians. Mating season is when most Kaimerians die.

The augury are a seclusive and mysterious race of crow-people who have lived in Deadwood for many tens of thousands of years. Various tribes of auguries have varying physical features, but they all share mostly black feathers, beaks, and claws on their hands and feet. Despite being birdkin, the auguries cannot fly, though they are quite dexterous and make excellent climbers. The auguries are a nomadic people, traveling from place to place following herds or scavenging the ruins of civilizations. Auguries are rarely openly hostile unless they vastly outnumber their opponent. Their bones are hollow, making them lightweight but also very fragile. A single well-placed hit with a club or other blunt object can pretty much drop an augury no problem. They prefer to slink around in the ruins of cities or the edges of a battlefield, foraging for equipment and all-too-important jewels amidst the wreckage. Auguries are obsessed with shiny things, from glittering golden coins to gemstones, but they lack the permanent settlements required for mining so they must take their gems from the ruins they find.

Auguries are viewed by many in Deadwood like we view vultures— scavengers and omens of ill fortune. When you see auguries around, it generally means there has recently been great strife in the area which they have come to profit off of. Auguries are physically weaker than humans, goliaths, or Kaimerians, but they make up for it with dexterity, wit, and keen senses. An augury’s sense of sight is legendary, and it is said they are so perceptive they can find a single gold coin in a sand dune. Despite lacking the typical trappings of modern civilization, auguries are quite smart and extremely resourceful. They have an intuition for finding hidden things, from gemstones to wells, and they strategize exceptionally well. Auguries are highly social within their small, tight-knit tribes, and they are excellent at coordinating.

As is on brand for a race of scavengers, auguries worship a death god known as Khiar-koff, the bringer of death and suffering that all auguries hope to appease. If a drought or famine arrives, it is Khiar-koff’s wrath being taken out upon people who have not given enough to satisfy his demonic hunger. Auguries perform rituals of all kinds to appease Khiar-koff, usually through sacrifice. This cruel religion has opened the auguries to one unique path, though, the magical art known as Kisha making. A kisha is a bone homunculus, a hodge-podge skeleton composed of the skeletons of several animals smashed together. A kisha may have the body of a bear, the tail of a snake, and the head of a troll, all knit together into one skeleton.

When a kisha is complete, a ritual is held by which a living being’s consciousness is transferred into the kisha, giving it life. Kisha are used for all kinds of purposes, from hunting guides to bodyguards. Some kisha even contain the consciousness of an augury, a form called a Kiy-Kisha. These Kiy-kisha are legendary monster-despots, using their authority as prophets of Khiar-koff to command absolute power over a band of auguries. Kisha are valuable assets to auguries, but they come at a price. A kisha regularly needs animals sacrificed to it to remain conscious or else it “starves” to death. A kiy-kisha is even more dependent on sacrifices, and tribes who worship a Kiy-kisha often end up looking more like death cults, dragging travelers away in their sleep to be sacrificed. Additionally, healing a kisha is difficult, as it requires a complex ritual, so if a kisha is wounded it can’t heal naturally.

Deep within the mountains of the world are ancient dungeons and halls, most of which are empty and devoid of life. These lands, however, used to be part of a greater realm, an empire that once called itself the lords of the mountains. This empire is now fallen, a shadow of its former self.

These are, of course, the Karlezek; a technologically advanced race of humanoids that once prided themselves as owners of a vast empire. Often known as Dwarves by the other races due to their short stature, the Karzelek nonetheless possess greater strength. They are skillful artisans and blacksmiths, making some of the best armor and weapons in the whole of Deadwood. When exposed to sunlight, their naturally light purple skin becomes pale. They do not seem to become darker with continual solar exposure, and don't get sunburned.

Perhaps the most well known and feared part of the Karlezek arsenal are their machines; or rather, the empty metal shells animated by sigils of magic written unto each of their joints and cogs. Like the kisha of the Augury, these silent guardians act as protectors, and in those strongholds where the Karlezek had either fled or died, some of these watchful sentinels remain, guarding the treasures of their deceased masters. These machines have become rarer these days due to the fear of magic that has spread all over Deadwood and even into the realm of the Karlezek, who had a long, varied magical tradition before and after the Cataclysm. Few are those that still possess the knowledge to create them, and fewer still are those that are willing to inherit these feared arts.

A few Karlezek have resided in Exusia since before the fall.

The ancestors of the Dragonborne used to be ordinary humans, until they were turned to their current state by Mitharos and Elkaria, a pair of dragons that wielded powerful magic. These ancestors were said to have been incolcacated with the blood of dragons, granting them heightened parameters. These Dragonborne had the twin dragons as their rulers, formed a pair of city states south of modern Hope and north of the Sorrowfields named in honour of the ones that had turned them into a powerful race; Mithras and Elkrosius. These cities were centers of trade and commerce until the cataclysm that wrecked the whole world, where Elkrosius was completely destroyed, and half of Mithras was completely obliterated. Mitharos and Elkaria were both killed in the event, leaving the Council of High Lords to lead the remaining Dragonborne. The surviving half of Mithras is a shadow of its former self, but it serves as a safe haven in the wilderness, as well as a shelter for persecuted magefolk. Mithras has managed to survive the years after the cataclysm rather well, with the Council of High Lords holding the remaining half of the city together. As such, Mithras and its surrounding area has remained untouched by raiders and slavers, who fear the fierce warriors and witches of the Dragonborne.

The Dragonborne, as a whole, are slightly shorter in average than baseline humans, but have greater physical strength and a longer lifespan. Dragonborne are also resistant to fire damage. They look no different to humans, except for the fact that their eyes glow a bright gold or cerulean; the colors of Mitharos and Elkaria, respectively. They usually have pale skin due to their region having constant cloud cover.

Dragonborne are not well known by the other races due to their reclusive nature. Most of the time, the only thing the average person could tell about them is that they're a race of people with glowing eyes, and not much else. However, those who are knowledgeable about them know not to underestimate the ones with dragon blood flowing in their veins.

Less of a race and more of a tool, golems are semi-sentient beings composed of inorganic material such as clay, stone, or iron. The process of making a golem is time and resource-intensive, requiring detailed carving, the sacrifice of many animals, and loads of incantations. It can take an entire team of wizards months to build just one golem, but the results are extremely worth it. Golems are enormous, powerful, and easy to control. They can lift their body weight, meaning most golems can lift literal tons of weight. The force of a golem’s punch can bend steel and shatter brick. If you are about to be punched by a golem, your best course of action is to put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye. The material of a golem is usually hard, such as metal or stone, and as such golems are extremely durable. Weapons like swords or spears, or elements such as fire, deal basically no damage to a golem, and they do not wear down easily. Once made, a golem’s form becomes magically inert, meaning that it cannot be altered by rock or metal-bending magic. Finally, a golem does not require food, water, or air to survive, though they do need to occasionally sleep or the magic holding their bodies together weakens. They have incredible endurance and do not need to be fed. These aspects make golems useful for many purposes, from guarding important buildings or figures to manual labor such as mining or porting.

Golems are by no means unstoppable though. They may be strong, but they are extremely slow due to their bulk. A golem’s top speed is around 4 miles per hour, a slow jog basically, and their attacks are extremely telegraphed. While structures may be unable to move, a person with even decent dexterity could easily dodge a golem’s punch. Additionally, stone golems don’t do well with concussive or blunt force. Rock is strong, but brittle, and so golems are liable to crack and break if hit by sufficient blunt force. The general military solution to a golem is cannonfire, as the force of a cannon is strong enough to destroy a golem completely and golems are too slow to get out of a cannon’s way. For the average melee fighter, taking on a golem is extremely challenging, but it is possible. Golems are held together at the joints by arcane sigils and if those sigils are broken, the spell holding that part of the golem together ends. Breaking one of those sigils will cause whatever limb it’s holding onto to fall off, weakening the golem. Another weakness of the golem is its inflexible thinking. Golems barely have free will, and while logical, they are simple-minded creatures. They are distinctly uncreative and seldom ever consider an indirect or out-of-the-box solution to a problem. If the first idea a golem comes up with fails, it will most likely give up, and golems are suckers for creative traps. Finally, a golem has a predetermined lifespan. A golem will live exactly 100 years and 1 day, and then the arcane battery powering it will sputter out and the golem will revert to a pile of inanimate stone.

Every golem has a talisman bound to them at the time of their awakening ritual. This talisman is made from the same material that the golem is and is covered with intricate runes. These talismans are guarded closely or entrusted to powerful spellcasters, as they contain the power to control the golem they were made for. While under the sway of a talisman, a golem has zero free will and performs its tasks exactly as it is told with no variation. It will continue that task until it is told to stop, even if said task completely destroys them. A talisman is inseparably bound to one golem and one golem alone, and if it breaks, the golem loses its form and dies… except when it doesn’t (intentional cliffhanger for Maxx’s character).

From a fathomless distance beyond the stars, there came a terror, chitinous and buzzing. A Legion poured from the skies to lay waste to a people, clad in animal skins and infantile as a race, which knew not what the creatures were or why they came. Such as it was, the people faced hardship and near extinction, but there came intervention. None recall the battle which lead to the Gi-Syn-Yi's retreat, the means of their crushing defeat, or the deadly foe they faced, but they fled.

Deep into the caverns and veins of the world, hidden beneath the stone and sand, unable to return to the stars they so cherished, they fled. Centuries passed as their warriors and priests died, stories faded, oral traditions shifted, and stellar ideals warped. Not one of the Gi-Syn-Yi of today's population stands as tall or looks as imposing as their predecessors. Not one recalls the details of the passing of the centuries or the battle from which they fled. There remains only a lingering fear of the 'Dark Howling One' and an ancestral call home.

Indeed they have devolved somewhat, adapted to survive in the cramped darkness of their underground city. With the passing of time, a species predispositioned for conquest and war has grown mellow and thoughtful. Generally, they are a heavily sarcastic and witty people, with a very slow to anger kind of disposition these days. They're smaller now-- both in stature and in population-- than their eight-foot tall and innumerable ancestors, and quite a deal weaker. Their bodies have adapted to the digging and crouching of their environment-- adapted through generational mutation-- for any dangers which present themselves in caves.

Thick chitin covers their outer bodies, acting as an armor for a soft inner body. This chitin is incapable of being pierced or crushed, unless a MIGHTY force impacts it, and can endure sustained weight pressures as well as high falls with little to no damage. They are able to maintain life without air indefinitely, and survive without food or water for up to two months, before lapsing into a life-saving coma, which can last up to two more months before death.

Gi-Syn-Yi forelimbs have grown to be thick and heavy, with dexterous fingers, tipped in claws that grow continuously through their lifespan, which are worn down only by their persistent digging. Most of them have four forelimbs and two hind legs. Utilizing all of their limbs, they can sprint quite quickly when pushed, but their gait is rather clumsy when walking on hind legs alone.

Most could describe their appearances as similar to a number of insects-- beetles, millipedes, crickets, ants-- and their bodies are often a mix of limbs, colors, statures, and chitin patterns. Their varied bodies contribute to their dynamic adaptability and teamwork driven society. Though some often sport the horns or wings of their ancestors, the wings are usually fragile or immobile, as their capability to fly was lost in the genetics at some point.

Their ability to heal is slow and amputation is common, as a means of reducing the pain and risk of infection with a wounded limb. Their bodies being punctured has a high mortality rate but this is a rare occurrence-- a special concoction, made of their own chitin, is used to seal their wounds; things to "clog" the puncture wound often work, if nothing else is available. Their ability to feel pain is lowered but when they feel it, the pain takes weeks to subside, if it ever does.

They have to molt every three months, during which time they are vulnerable and soft for four days until hardening. Very strictly, they live only until sixty years have passed and no more-- always dying on the sunset of their sixtieth year. The chitinous outer bodies of the dead are re-purposed into weapons, medicines, or tools, with their soft inner body being placed in a mass grave, where they have piled their dead for centuries. This collective rotting is important, as the dead act as essential nutrients for the living.

Physically, theres no distinction between genders among them. All Gi-Syn-Yi are capable of donating biological matter to construct an "egg". Collectively, their eggs are fertilized by the decaying corpse matter of their deceased, as a sort of mulch, that is leeched through the pliable egg surface. Conceptually, gender makes little sense to these extra planetary beings so, their understanding of it equates to "a societal role," and they often insist their genders are their job titles. As other creatures grapple with this, pronouns referring to Gi-Syn-Yi often dissolve into neutrality or calling them by honorifics, i.e. "The Jit."

Intelligent, creative, and deeply loyal to their society, the Gi-Syn-Yi come to the surface reluctantly and rarely, as their eyesight is poor, and the light of the sun pains their eyes-- even torchlight is considered too bright. Scent, temperature perception, and hearing act as their primary senses. On the surface, they are veiled and usually wearing shaded lenses or darkening helmets. At the behest of their Hv-Jit-- the Leading Council-- whenever a matter of great importance occurs, they are sent to the surface to investigate. Usually, a representative or scout is sent alone but the occasional band of warriors or spies have emerged, much to the confusion of the "LOW INTELLIGENCE MEATSKINS" above.

Some very few Gi-Syn-Yi can be found among Bone Clans or in New Kaimeria, taking very innocuous background roles as laborers or janitors, and secretly reporting their findings on the surface to their Council. Using their antennae, they can tune to different frequencies of sound in order to hear, and can hear great distances and through solid objects, if said objects are not too thick or sturdy. This makes their "spying" easier and a subvocal form of communication between them possible.

Often, they bring with them odd inventions and curious trinkets, testing them on the surface or its people, before returning to Hv-Yit-Ki. As it stands, only the Gi-Syn-Yi themselves are capable of accessing their home beneath the bones, for they seal the entrance behind them, with nearly a mile's depth of sand and stone.

For the Gi-Syn-Yi, the song of their ancestral home can quite literally be heard, calling them back to the cosmos. All of their conniving, inventing, and spying is for the sake of returning to that place beyond the stars.