Some sentient races so rarely interact with human beings as to be known only to true scholars -- or visitors to Night Harbor, where impossible-seeming encounters occur nightly. Legends persist as well, in some societies, about sentient beings of types completely unknown to Black Steel. Some unique cases may indeed exist of individuals bearing no resemblance to any known sentient species, presumably brought into being by sorcery, but fiction and fancy certainly include entities -- sentient and otherwise -- that never have existed, and even that never could. Sometimes, as well, descriptions fail so utterly to convey the thing described that they are worse than useless: Describing merfolk as "half man, half fish" is merely misleading, but this type of description grows ridiculous in (too-numerous) extreme cases. A traveler from the north who sees a horned viper in the Shalasa desert might return and exaggerate it in the telling to "the body of a serpent, the strength of a lion, and the horns of a goat," and it might come in time to be depicted as the most chimerical of mythical beasts, mingling the features of all three of these animals in whatever fashion strikes the artist's fancy, so that the description passed down to future generations bears no relation whatever to the desert snake itself. For this reason, sentient creatures never yet encountered by Black Steel personnel will not be included here unless described with sufficient precision and consistency by reliable witnesses that their existence can be attempted to be believed.
It nevertheless remains possible that sentient species may exist -- perhaps even many of them -- of which Black Steel personnel as yet have no knowledge at all. Though far-reaching, Black Steel's explorations have certainly not taken its people everywhere, nor have they been exhaustive even in those regions -- such as the tangled Grat'han jungles -- into which they have made forays repeatedly. Indeed, there are some sentients with whom Black Steel personnel have communicated personally, particularly in Night Harbor, while learning almost nothing about the true nature of their species:
One wine dealer in Night Harbor, from whom the Rat Pack made a number of purchases, appeared to be one of the legendary beasts known as "Spell Drinkers" -- a many-limbed beast that reputedly sucks in sorcerous power the way humans suck in breath, and uses that power to weave sorceries of its own with its long, gangly three-fingered limbs. The Rat Pack, none of whose members have any sorcerous vision, could neither confirm nor deny the creatures' reputation, but a number of Black Steel members witnessed one apparently making use of its power in performances -- and later, a deadly duel -- with the Shalasian wizard "Magnifico" Mandello, who managed to overcome it and destroy it entirely.
Another denizen of Night Harbor, known to the Rat Pack as Arrow, appeared entirely human, but proved able to change her shape at an instant's notice, even to forms that were not human-like at all. The extent and origins of this ability, her true form, and the nature of such other capabilities as she might possess, were not discovered before she and the Rat Pack parted company.
Berlokh used to have a quiet friendship with a creature he called "Eyes," a small, nocturnal being with large green eyes that seemed to glow, who lived in Shalaton and called himself a Sheltzin. "Eyes" implied that he was part of a community of some size in the city, and that most were highly adept at hiding. He also implied, but did not demonstrate, that at least some Sheltzin -- such as himself -- were capable of wielding sorcery. Berlokh has since lost touch with "Eyes," but Grynne believes at least one Sheltzin now resides in the Scabbard.
Grim, a some-time resident of Night Harbor, has described still stranger creatures who walk its streets, often with gory details about the fates of those who put themselves at such creatures' mercy. Some of these stories might even be true, though even these are no doubt, as Jarvis puts it, "strongly flavored with exaggeration and invention." Anyone who may wish to identify the kernels of truth in these stories -- or indeed which of Grim's stories even harbor a kernel of truth -- is certainly welcome to ask him and try.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Nethygi
(Note: Insufficient information is available at this point to guess at the place of the Nethygi in the natural ecology in the Black Steel world, although a handful of educated guesses can of course be made.)
Though some can be seen walking the streets of Night Harbor or purchasing wares in its famed slave market, and though - during the quiet war between certain Shalasian powers and an enclave of shadow elves and their allies - Thaqz has actually killed one, the Nethygi (this is the plural form; the singular is Nethygian) are largely an unknown quantity to Black Steel and to human beings in general. In appearance, they are a mass of powerful tentacles (probably five or six; no one in Black Steel has ever had both the opportunity and desire to actually count them) emerging from a head some half a meter in diameter, much more nearly round than that of an octopus. Their tentacles also lack octopus-like suckers, but are lined with bony ridges, perhaps in the nature of nails or horns, at least along the ends of their inner surfaces. All the Nethygi ever encountered by or described to Black Steel personnel have had extremely pale white skin.
In their dealings with human beings, perhaps aware of the revulsion with which most humans see them, Nethygi typically stand "upright" on their tentacles, and wrap themselves in long cloaks, often cowled, that completely conceal their tentacular "bodies" except when they part the cloak to reach for something. It may be that interacting with Nethygi is at least slightly more palatable to the average human when a Nethygian can be imagined as at least a vaguely human-like or humanoid being. Even so, the illusion of near-humanity must be consensual; no matter how carefully cloaked and cowled, no Nethygian in motion or in speech would ever be mistaken for a human.
The Nethygian vocal apparatus is capable of roughly reproducing human language, but not apparently without effort, and never perfectly. Nethygians speaking human words sound something like someone trying to talk while choking, hissing, and gargling alternately or simultaneously. No member of Black Steel has ever heard Nethygi speaking in their own language, though they may speak in voices too low or high to hear, or communicate by nonverbal means -- some informants in Night Harbor claim to have seen Nethygi silently twine their tentacles with one another's when presented with the sort of business deal that should require consultation.
The ease or regularity with which Nethygi can attain sorcerous power is unclear, but it is apparent that some, at least, have magical ability. The Nethygian that Thaqz slew, for instance, managed to induce a seizure in him before the wizards whom Thaqz had led to its hiding place came to his assistance, allowing Thaqz to break free and strike the killling blow.
Though some can be seen walking the streets of Night Harbor or purchasing wares in its famed slave market, and though - during the quiet war between certain Shalasian powers and an enclave of shadow elves and their allies - Thaqz has actually killed one, the Nethygi (this is the plural form; the singular is Nethygian) are largely an unknown quantity to Black Steel and to human beings in general. In appearance, they are a mass of powerful tentacles (probably five or six; no one in Black Steel has ever had both the opportunity and desire to actually count them) emerging from a head some half a meter in diameter, much more nearly round than that of an octopus. Their tentacles also lack octopus-like suckers, but are lined with bony ridges, perhaps in the nature of nails or horns, at least along the ends of their inner surfaces. All the Nethygi ever encountered by or described to Black Steel personnel have had extremely pale white skin.
In their dealings with human beings, perhaps aware of the revulsion with which most humans see them, Nethygi typically stand "upright" on their tentacles, and wrap themselves in long cloaks, often cowled, that completely conceal their tentacular "bodies" except when they part the cloak to reach for something. It may be that interacting with Nethygi is at least slightly more palatable to the average human when a Nethygian can be imagined as at least a vaguely human-like or humanoid being. Even so, the illusion of near-humanity must be consensual; no matter how carefully cloaked and cowled, no Nethygian in motion or in speech would ever be mistaken for a human.
The Nethygian vocal apparatus is capable of roughly reproducing human language, but not apparently without effort, and never perfectly. Nethygians speaking human words sound something like someone trying to talk while choking, hissing, and gargling alternately or simultaneously. No member of Black Steel has ever heard Nethygi speaking in their own language, though they may speak in voices too low or high to hear, or communicate by nonverbal means -- some informants in Night Harbor claim to have seen Nethygi silently twine their tentacles with one another's when presented with the sort of business deal that should require consultation.
The ease or regularity with which Nethygi can attain sorcerous power is unclear, but it is apparent that some, at least, have magical ability. The Nethygian that Thaqz slew, for instance, managed to induce a seizure in him before the wizards whom Thaqz had led to its hiding place came to his assistance, allowing Thaqz to break free and strike the killling blow.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Dragons
(Note: The origins and nature of dragons are so deeply shrouded in mystery that attempting to classify them in any meaningful way is essentially hopeless. Certainly they are deeply bound up with the sorcerous world, but the sheer range of draconic descriptions, together with their rarity -- most places in the Black Steel world tell stories about dragons, but many have been passed down for generations since the last sighting -- make it nearly impossible to make any definite statement about dragons as a whole, or indeed to consistently separate myth from the world's reality. Their size and rarity are such however that their origins are uncertain in the extreme; the continuation of a species with such an apparently tiny population spread over such widely distant regions would likely be as impossible by strictly non-magical biological means as would their flight and very living existence given their enormous size. As such, whether dragons constitute a single species, or whether the notion of species or any other taxonomical classification applies to such beings, is by no means a certainty.)
Dragons are so rarely seen by human beings, and legends of their appearance are so diverse, that describing even their physical appearance is an uncertain business at best. It is entirely possible that many reported "dragon" sightings were actually of other types of creatures altogether, from transformed sorcerors to non-sentient beasts. This article will restrict itself to dragons that share the most common characteristics associated with their wide-ranging descriptions: Thinking beings, enormous in size, with at least vaguely reptillian features and functional wings.
Most reasonably-contemporary reports of dragons come from areas rarely frequented by humans, which could well simply mean that travelers to distant places like to embellish or invent the events of their journeys, or that unusual creatures seen in previously-unexplored places may be called "dragons" by default. Some believe that for reasons of their own, dragons actively avoid human habitations however -- while others hold that the wilderness areas frequented by dragons remain untamed wilds simply because humans who attempt to claim them do not survive the attempt.
Black Steel personnel, in their far-flung and disparate travels, with the penchant of certain of their important members for exploration of the unknown, and their interest in unusual and magically-charged places, have themselves encountered an exceptional number of dragons for a group of their size: A total of two dragons, or possibly three. (The first, seen briefly and at a distance, might have been some other especially large flying creature, mistaken for a dragon by those who saw it.) Obviously, this is not a sample from which a great deal of information can be inferred, but dragons are obviously capable of wielding sorcerous power -- the dragon best known to Dargon and Quix in fact agreed to act as their tutor in its use -- and of communicating in language comprehensible to human beings. Any description of draconic nature overall however must wait for more information to be gathered, if enough of it ever can be.
Dragons are so rarely seen by human beings, and legends of their appearance are so diverse, that describing even their physical appearance is an uncertain business at best. It is entirely possible that many reported "dragon" sightings were actually of other types of creatures altogether, from transformed sorcerors to non-sentient beasts. This article will restrict itself to dragons that share the most common characteristics associated with their wide-ranging descriptions: Thinking beings, enormous in size, with at least vaguely reptillian features and functional wings.
Most reasonably-contemporary reports of dragons come from areas rarely frequented by humans, which could well simply mean that travelers to distant places like to embellish or invent the events of their journeys, or that unusual creatures seen in previously-unexplored places may be called "dragons" by default. Some believe that for reasons of their own, dragons actively avoid human habitations however -- while others hold that the wilderness areas frequented by dragons remain untamed wilds simply because humans who attempt to claim them do not survive the attempt.
Black Steel personnel, in their far-flung and disparate travels, with the penchant of certain of their important members for exploration of the unknown, and their interest in unusual and magically-charged places, have themselves encountered an exceptional number of dragons for a group of their size: A total of two dragons, or possibly three. (The first, seen briefly and at a distance, might have been some other especially large flying creature, mistaken for a dragon by those who saw it.) Obviously, this is not a sample from which a great deal of information can be inferred, but dragons are obviously capable of wielding sorcerous power -- the dragon best known to Dargon and Quix in fact agreed to act as their tutor in its use -- and of communicating in language comprehensible to human beings. Any description of draconic nature overall however must wait for more information to be gathered, if enough of it ever can be.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Dwarves
(Note: I use the name "dwarf" -- and the plurarl "dwarves," borrowing from Tolkien again to avoid the lame "dwarfs" -- with some reluctance; shortness is by no means the primary characteristic of these people, and they do not resemble the one-dimensional comic-relief "dwarves" of modern fantasy stories any more closely than real roman legions resembled the caricatures in "Asterix the Gaul." Nevertheless, this short, stocky, commonly bearded people will be called "dwarves" inevitably, so I may as well accept the name and move on.)
Very little is known about the dwarven peoples or their society, except as it bears on their interaction with humankind. Even in Korv, where dwarves are regular and numerous visitors to human cities and play an important role in both government and trade, the dwarves appear to simply participate in human society and do not offer demonstrations of their own. Even Dargon and Quix, who visited a dwarven outpost in the far north, shared meals with them, and slept under their vaulted subterranean roof on two nights, never saw a single dwarven woman or child. The extent of dwarven caves beneath the earth is unknown; the number and types of languages they speak among themselves is unknown -- among humans, they usually speak the local human language by courtesy, or a few words in some language of their own mostly in case of emergency. Their religious bents, if any, are unknown; their numbers worldwide are unknown; their relationship with shadow elves is largely unknown, though they seem not on the whole to be friends; since both dwell in darkness beneath the earth, it might be imagined that they would interact closely, in war or peace -- more closely at least than either interacts with surface dwellers -- but no evidence of their relationship or its nature has been found to date, and the few dwarves who say anything about it typically deny any contact with the shadow elves -- as one dwarf reportedly put it, "We keep to ourselves in my home, and they do not trouble us there." While dwarven lifespans are known to be significantly longer than humans', their full extent is likewise unknown.
The relationship between dwarven people and the world's sorcerous forces is steeped in uncertainty. These forces seem to bend in upon or around dwarves in such a way as to thwart both spells and sorcerous vision, more so than with any other known species. Some wizards theorize that dwarves use a powerful form of sorcery unique to themselves, either intentionally or biologically (like the elves, who rely on sorcery for their long lifespans, and the giants who do so to maintain their massive size) to support their long lives and typically tremendous strength for their size, bending the fabric of the magical forces around them so completely as to prevent other sorcerous power from interfering. Others argue that the dwarves have actually developed resistance or immunity to magical forces, and are completely incapable of using sorceries of ther own. Whatever the truth of the matter, rumors persist that dwarves are capable of imparting their unique relationship with sorcerous forces upon objects they fashion by hand -- such as weapons, armor, and shields with unique properties including resistance to magical spells. Whether it resembles human magic or not however, Dwarves do appear to possess supernatural powers of some kind: They are known in Korv, for instance, to fashion books in large numbers, with letters and pictures exactly identical from copy to copy, faster and more precisely than any team of copyists could be imagined to work; and to build weapons that launch metal balls at incredible speeds by igniting an obviously magical -- but to a wizard's eyes, not apparently sorcerous -- powder.
Like woodland elves, dwarves have had enough commerce with humankind to develop a reputation based more on actual interactions than mythological archetypes. They are known for mainly honest dealings, but also for stubbornness about their terms, and suspicion of human promises. In Thorm Casati's assessment, a reputation as misers was likely established around dwarves because of their /lack/ of greed; he has found that dwarves on the whole seem to be difficult to trick or entrap simply because there seems to be little or nothing with which to lure them into a position of jeopardy -- especially since their patience, perhaps arising from their long-lived nature, allows for careful investigation of claims before agreeing to anything; a typical Dwarven response to "hard sell" tactics is to take his business elsewhere. And of course all these notes represent the average, typical, or reputed ways of dwarves; as with woodland elves, the idea of "mavericks" or "renegades" who defy typical dwarven stereotypes is well understood among humankind, though of course by definition, the nature of such mavericks or renegades can hardly be guessed in advance.
Very little is known about the dwarven peoples or their society, except as it bears on their interaction with humankind. Even in Korv, where dwarves are regular and numerous visitors to human cities and play an important role in both government and trade, the dwarves appear to simply participate in human society and do not offer demonstrations of their own. Even Dargon and Quix, who visited a dwarven outpost in the far north, shared meals with them, and slept under their vaulted subterranean roof on two nights, never saw a single dwarven woman or child. The extent of dwarven caves beneath the earth is unknown; the number and types of languages they speak among themselves is unknown -- among humans, they usually speak the local human language by courtesy, or a few words in some language of their own mostly in case of emergency. Their religious bents, if any, are unknown; their numbers worldwide are unknown; their relationship with shadow elves is largely unknown, though they seem not on the whole to be friends; since both dwell in darkness beneath the earth, it might be imagined that they would interact closely, in war or peace -- more closely at least than either interacts with surface dwellers -- but no evidence of their relationship or its nature has been found to date, and the few dwarves who say anything about it typically deny any contact with the shadow elves -- as one dwarf reportedly put it, "We keep to ourselves in my home, and they do not trouble us there." While dwarven lifespans are known to be significantly longer than humans', their full extent is likewise unknown.
The relationship between dwarven people and the world's sorcerous forces is steeped in uncertainty. These forces seem to bend in upon or around dwarves in such a way as to thwart both spells and sorcerous vision, more so than with any other known species. Some wizards theorize that dwarves use a powerful form of sorcery unique to themselves, either intentionally or biologically (like the elves, who rely on sorcery for their long lifespans, and the giants who do so to maintain their massive size) to support their long lives and typically tremendous strength for their size, bending the fabric of the magical forces around them so completely as to prevent other sorcerous power from interfering. Others argue that the dwarves have actually developed resistance or immunity to magical forces, and are completely incapable of using sorceries of ther own. Whatever the truth of the matter, rumors persist that dwarves are capable of imparting their unique relationship with sorcerous forces upon objects they fashion by hand -- such as weapons, armor, and shields with unique properties including resistance to magical spells. Whether it resembles human magic or not however, Dwarves do appear to possess supernatural powers of some kind: They are known in Korv, for instance, to fashion books in large numbers, with letters and pictures exactly identical from copy to copy, faster and more precisely than any team of copyists could be imagined to work; and to build weapons that launch metal balls at incredible speeds by igniting an obviously magical -- but to a wizard's eyes, not apparently sorcerous -- powder.
Like woodland elves, dwarves have had enough commerce with humankind to develop a reputation based more on actual interactions than mythological archetypes. They are known for mainly honest dealings, but also for stubbornness about their terms, and suspicion of human promises. In Thorm Casati's assessment, a reputation as misers was likely established around dwarves because of their /lack/ of greed; he has found that dwarves on the whole seem to be difficult to trick or entrap simply because there seems to be little or nothing with which to lure them into a position of jeopardy -- especially since their patience, perhaps arising from their long-lived nature, allows for careful investigation of claims before agreeing to anything; a typical Dwarven response to "hard sell" tactics is to take his business elsewhere. And of course all these notes represent the average, typical, or reputed ways of dwarves; as with woodland elves, the idea of "mavericks" or "renegades" who defy typical dwarven stereotypes is well understood among humankind, though of course by definition, the nature of such mavericks or renegades can hardly be guessed in advance.
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Undead
Many of the creatures called "Undead" by human beings are nothing more than inert corpses, animated with the appearance of life by a form of sorcerous power. Others are effectively bestial creatures: Corpses of once-sentient beings acting as hosts to animating parasites with nothing resembling human sentience or intelligence at all. These types of creatures are normally known as Walking Dead and Ghouls, respectively, when the precise nature of the spell or parasite is not known. There do exist some sentient beings however who by the work of extraordinary sorcerous power -- sometimes but not always their own -- extend their existence in the world beyond the natural lives of their bodies, sometimes preserving their corpses to serve as the vessels for their sentient spirits, sometimes generating artificial bodies for themselves, and sometimes existing as entirely non-corporeal beings. In theory there is no reason to suppose that undead beings would be any more "good" or "evil" than living ones, but in practice the choice to become undead (when it is voluntary) is unlikely to be compatible with -- nor is the fact of existing in an Undead form for any length of time conducive to -- what most human beings would regard as sanity.
The sorcerous power necessary for the transition from living to undead being is such that nearly every case is unique; nevertheless, some commonalities have been inferred, such as the difficulty of maintaining undead existence in direct sunlight or the presence of large numbers of people. Just how universal these are however, and the possible nature of others, remains unknown.
Several broad categories of undead existence have been used to distinguish between them on the basis of their ties to their once-living bodies (or to any body at all). The best-known names for the best-known categories are:
Liches: Undead spirits still bound to their once-living bodies. This broad category includes beings cursed to live beyond death in decaying bodies (sometimes preserved by artificial means, as in the case of Mummies) and those whose bodies are preserved, renewed, or both by sorcerous means.
Vampires: Undead spirits bound to a version of their once-living bodies that are capable of sustaining themselves by various physical means (most commonly involving the drinking of blood to restore lost fluids, tissues, and energy).
Revenant Spirits: Undead spirits no longer tied to their actual once-living bodies that nevertheless interact with the world by embodying themselves (usually repeatedly, temporarily, and by sorcerous means).
Ghosts: Undead spirits no longer bound to their once-living bodies in any way, retaining their undead existence completely independent of any corporeal form they may seem to assume -- if any.
The sorcerous power necessary for the transition from living to undead being is such that nearly every case is unique; nevertheless, some commonalities have been inferred, such as the difficulty of maintaining undead existence in direct sunlight or the presence of large numbers of people. Just how universal these are however, and the possible nature of others, remains unknown.
Several broad categories of undead existence have been used to distinguish between them on the basis of their ties to their once-living bodies (or to any body at all). The best-known names for the best-known categories are:
Liches: Undead spirits still bound to their once-living bodies. This broad category includes beings cursed to live beyond death in decaying bodies (sometimes preserved by artificial means, as in the case of Mummies) and those whose bodies are preserved, renewed, or both by sorcerous means.
Vampires: Undead spirits bound to a version of their once-living bodies that are capable of sustaining themselves by various physical means (most commonly involving the drinking of blood to restore lost fluids, tissues, and energy).
Revenant Spirits: Undead spirits no longer tied to their actual once-living bodies that nevertheless interact with the world by embodying themselves (usually repeatedly, temporarily, and by sorcerous means).
Ghosts: Undead spirits no longer bound to their once-living bodies in any way, retaining their undead existence completely independent of any corporeal form they may seem to assume -- if any.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Seashore Sirens
(Note: Like other types of beastmen, the sirens of the Grat'han coasts are presumed to owe their origins to sorcerous activity, or to the realization of human myth through pantheonic intervention.)
With the obvious exceptions of their enormous wings, taloned feet, birdlike tails, and feathers, the seashore sirens of Grat'ha are very nearly human in appearance -- it might be even more apt to say elven -- both in the features of their faces and the basic bone structures of their bodies, with the important exception that all their bones, birdlike, are hollow, and typically more slender than a human's. Seashore sirens have no hair anywhere on their bodies -- even their eyebrow ridges are bare, and their eyelids have no lashes -- but typically have thick, hair-like crests of long feathers growing back and downward from the tops and backs of their heads and necks. Their wings too are covered with feathers, as are portions of their backs, typically spreading from their wings (protruding from the same areas as human shoulder-blades) down toward their waist, by which point the feathered area normally extends all the way around so that their entire bodies from the waist down are usually covered in feathers, until the base of their talon-feet. Like those of elves and giants, their bodies rely upon sorcerous energy for the ability to function and to fly, and their bodies are therefore more fragile in death than in life. Black Steel personnel have to date encountered only female sirens, and nothing is presently known about males -- not even whether they exist at all, or how sirens might reproduce.
The sirens of the Grat'han coast are primarily but not exclusively nocturnal, and seem to prefer to make their homes -- or perhaps merely hunting camps -- in high, forbidding, inaccessible coastal locations; the most successful choose craggy peaks that are difficult to reach by land or sea. Detritus in these homes suggests that their diet consists primarily of fish, complimented with a smattering of land animals, occasionally including human beings. Sirens are of course best known for their singing -- songs that were once believed to be wordless as birdsong, but that have been discovered, in at least some cases, to comprise a complex language of emotion. The sirens' songs are famous for their supernatural allure, and in fact Theril has observed them and found the songs themselves interwoven with enchantment -- a "spell" whose weaving appears to be built into siren heredity as much as are their wings and feathers. It has been speculated that individual sirens sing slightly different enchantments, each unique in the fashion of human voices, but Theril has not as yet made enough observations to support or undermine this theory. Certainly the core spellweave is identical in all known cases, with an effect meant to overwhelm the senses of any living animal within its range and draw them toward the source of the singing. The audible song itself of course varies from siren to siren and from moment to moment; as far as Theril can tell, the nature of the verbal song has little or no bearing on that of the spell that is woven through it.
The most successful sirens probably survive primarily on such fish as fall under the enchantment (whether the enchantment penetrates the water or whether only leaping fish are affected has not yet been closely studied) and throw themselves ashore, and animals that stumble over precipices in their attempt to move closer. Lone creatures are always in greatest danger from seashore sirens' songs; living beings naturally resist sorcerous effects, so there is usually safety in numbers among social animals (and especially thinking beings) as creatures that have not fallen under the spell can shepherd, stop, or protect those who have. While seashore sirens can be vicious fighters if cornered, they normally prefer to flee through the air when confronted with forceful resistance, though some will attempt to gather stones and hurl them from the air at animals or people who try to fight them without effective ranged weapons or the means of flight. Sea birds are not believed to be specially immune to the sirens' songs, but of course are not subject to the hazards of grounded or sea-going creatures moving blindly toward the source of the songs, and apparently are not eaten by seashore sirens. Avian behavior in response to siren songs has not yet however been observed in detail.
Long assumed to be of simian intelligence at best, sirens were exterminated or driven out when they made homes in the regions of human settlements, but the Rat Pack (who else?) recently had an opportunity of dealing peacefully with a highly successful group of seashore sirens living on a particularly inhospitable crag just off the Grat'han coast in a little-traveled corner of Thornton Bay. They reported that the sirens used thrown rocks to deliberately start an avalanche to block the Rat Pack's path of advance, displaying a level of tool use and planning far beyond animal means. They also showed signs of mourning and possibly funereal rites for their dead, and further efforts resulted in communication and even negotiation through emotive song. Some still believe this enclave is unique in this respect, perhaps in effect representing a new species, but whether for this enclave alone or for some or all of the rest, the seashore sirens of Grat'ha must be counted among the thinking beings of the world. Whether they can wield magic beyond or apart from the spell intrinsic to their song is as yet unknown.
With the obvious exceptions of their enormous wings, taloned feet, birdlike tails, and feathers, the seashore sirens of Grat'ha are very nearly human in appearance -- it might be even more apt to say elven -- both in the features of their faces and the basic bone structures of their bodies, with the important exception that all their bones, birdlike, are hollow, and typically more slender than a human's. Seashore sirens have no hair anywhere on their bodies -- even their eyebrow ridges are bare, and their eyelids have no lashes -- but typically have thick, hair-like crests of long feathers growing back and downward from the tops and backs of their heads and necks. Their wings too are covered with feathers, as are portions of their backs, typically spreading from their wings (protruding from the same areas as human shoulder-blades) down toward their waist, by which point the feathered area normally extends all the way around so that their entire bodies from the waist down are usually covered in feathers, until the base of their talon-feet. Like those of elves and giants, their bodies rely upon sorcerous energy for the ability to function and to fly, and their bodies are therefore more fragile in death than in life. Black Steel personnel have to date encountered only female sirens, and nothing is presently known about males -- not even whether they exist at all, or how sirens might reproduce.
The sirens of the Grat'han coast are primarily but not exclusively nocturnal, and seem to prefer to make their homes -- or perhaps merely hunting camps -- in high, forbidding, inaccessible coastal locations; the most successful choose craggy peaks that are difficult to reach by land or sea. Detritus in these homes suggests that their diet consists primarily of fish, complimented with a smattering of land animals, occasionally including human beings. Sirens are of course best known for their singing -- songs that were once believed to be wordless as birdsong, but that have been discovered, in at least some cases, to comprise a complex language of emotion. The sirens' songs are famous for their supernatural allure, and in fact Theril has observed them and found the songs themselves interwoven with enchantment -- a "spell" whose weaving appears to be built into siren heredity as much as are their wings and feathers. It has been speculated that individual sirens sing slightly different enchantments, each unique in the fashion of human voices, but Theril has not as yet made enough observations to support or undermine this theory. Certainly the core spellweave is identical in all known cases, with an effect meant to overwhelm the senses of any living animal within its range and draw them toward the source of the singing. The audible song itself of course varies from siren to siren and from moment to moment; as far as Theril can tell, the nature of the verbal song has little or no bearing on that of the spell that is woven through it.
The most successful sirens probably survive primarily on such fish as fall under the enchantment (whether the enchantment penetrates the water or whether only leaping fish are affected has not yet been closely studied) and throw themselves ashore, and animals that stumble over precipices in their attempt to move closer. Lone creatures are always in greatest danger from seashore sirens' songs; living beings naturally resist sorcerous effects, so there is usually safety in numbers among social animals (and especially thinking beings) as creatures that have not fallen under the spell can shepherd, stop, or protect those who have. While seashore sirens can be vicious fighters if cornered, they normally prefer to flee through the air when confronted with forceful resistance, though some will attempt to gather stones and hurl them from the air at animals or people who try to fight them without effective ranged weapons or the means of flight. Sea birds are not believed to be specially immune to the sirens' songs, but of course are not subject to the hazards of grounded or sea-going creatures moving blindly toward the source of the songs, and apparently are not eaten by seashore sirens. Avian behavior in response to siren songs has not yet however been observed in detail.
Long assumed to be of simian intelligence at best, sirens were exterminated or driven out when they made homes in the regions of human settlements, but the Rat Pack (who else?) recently had an opportunity of dealing peacefully with a highly successful group of seashore sirens living on a particularly inhospitable crag just off the Grat'han coast in a little-traveled corner of Thornton Bay. They reported that the sirens used thrown rocks to deliberately start an avalanche to block the Rat Pack's path of advance, displaying a level of tool use and planning far beyond animal means. They also showed signs of mourning and possibly funereal rites for their dead, and further efforts resulted in communication and even negotiation through emotive song. Some still believe this enclave is unique in this respect, perhaps in effect representing a new species, but whether for this enclave alone or for some or all of the rest, the seashore sirens of Grat'ha must be counted among the thinking beings of the world. Whether they can wield magic beyond or apart from the spell intrinsic to their song is as yet unknown.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Werebeasts
(Note: Unlike other types of beastmen, such as merfolk, horned men, and even most serpentfolk, the werebeasts of the Black Steel world are clearly and presently magical in nature. While we rely on inference with beastmen of other types, there is no question that the very existence of werebeasts is attributable to the actions of wizards or pantheonic forces, as their transformations result from the action of enchantments that are discernible to anyone sufficiently practiced in the use of sorcerous vision.)
A thorough study of the transformation of humans into animals and the other way around would be the work of several lifetimes, and there are few workable definitions of the term werebeast that would shorten the task considerably. By the simplest and broadest definition, a werebeast is any creature under a spell that, when triggered, will turn it into a creature of a different species. In many cases however, such "werebeasts" are best considered as enchanted beings of a particular species, regarding the spell as an external force acting upon them. The exceptions are few as cases, but much more commonly found, because each case includes large numbers of individual werebeasts: Creatures that can pass on their enchantment to others by straightforward and repeatable means.
In Theril's estimation, the most common form of werebeastial descent is through the process of natural childbirth. Some werebeasts are capable of breeding within their own racial group, passing on their enchantment from one generation to the next, and there is speculation, but little evidence, that some are even capable of breeding with members of at least one of the natural species into which their enchantments transform them, and bearing werebeast children. Legends persist of means by which a werebeast can transform an already-existant being into one of its kind -- typically by "infecting" a victim with a bite, though other means appear in more unusual stories -- but Black Steel personnel have to date found no definite evidence of such an occurrence outside of folklore, and Theril doubts the long-term viability of a bite-propogated werebeast community. Indeed, the preponderance of evidence she has collected on groups of werebeasts in and around Grat'ha is highly suggestive of a family organization, with all the telltale signs of hereditary similarities. She grants the possibility that in more civilized lands, where werebeast communities of any kind are unlikely to prove lasting, "unusual" enchantments might be the norm among those rare cases where werebeasts appear at all, but remains skeptical of the idea of bite-based spell transmission, primarily because working a spell capable of performing such a feat would be difficult in the extreme, and would seem to serve no purpose that could not be more accomplished by simpler means. When the possibility of pantheonic intervention is raised in defense of the legends, Theril's typical response is, "Show me one case." So far, no one has met her challenge.
Some werebeasts show clear signs of rational thought in both human and bestial forms; recent experience in Grat'ha suggests that some are even capable of wielding sorcery. Others, in at least one form, seem to exhibit behavior consistent with their current animal species, or of a particular species into which they can transform. (Most werebeasts shift between only two forms, one of them usually human, but rare occasions have been reported of beings with three, or even more.) Yet others consistently act with such ferocity, rage, and violence as few creatures of the world ever sustain for long naturally, driven presumably by their particular enchantments, further clouding the question of who or what a werebeast truly is. As a result, any reasonably concise description of werebeast thought, culture, or society would be hopelessly misleading or incomplete, even if Black Steel personnel had any significant experience of studying such a society.
Among the popular myths about werebeasts are stories of transformations that wait for the light of the full moon, and about tremendous resiliance or resistance to harm in battle. Some say, for instance, that only a specially-blessed or silver-coated weapon can harm werebeasts. In some of these tales, there appear to be kernels of truth: Werebeasts are often larger, more cunning even when not actually rational, more ferocious, or otherwise more dangerous than their natural counterparts, and the act of transformation sometimes allows them to survive or more speedily recover than would a normal being from such wounds as they sustain. The notion that silver might be necessary or useful to defeating such creatures is strictly a northern myth, most likely spread by peasants who saw the gleam of a trained warrior's properly-upkept sword and attributed his success to his "silver" blade instead of his skill. When asked about specially-blessed weapons, Theril once responded, "It's quite normal for frightened people to trust in their priests and their faith to protect them, regardless of whether they can or do or need to help anything." Nothing she's seen since then has given her reason to change her stance. And as for full-moon transformations, the experience of Black Steel personnel has been that it is purest nonsense; some werebeasts appear to change forms at nightfall and revert at daybreak, and others to switch back and forth seemingly at will, but the time of month appears irrelevant.
A thorough study of the transformation of humans into animals and the other way around would be the work of several lifetimes, and there are few workable definitions of the term werebeast that would shorten the task considerably. By the simplest and broadest definition, a werebeast is any creature under a spell that, when triggered, will turn it into a creature of a different species. In many cases however, such "werebeasts" are best considered as enchanted beings of a particular species, regarding the spell as an external force acting upon them. The exceptions are few as cases, but much more commonly found, because each case includes large numbers of individual werebeasts: Creatures that can pass on their enchantment to others by straightforward and repeatable means.
In Theril's estimation, the most common form of werebeastial descent is through the process of natural childbirth. Some werebeasts are capable of breeding within their own racial group, passing on their enchantment from one generation to the next, and there is speculation, but little evidence, that some are even capable of breeding with members of at least one of the natural species into which their enchantments transform them, and bearing werebeast children. Legends persist of means by which a werebeast can transform an already-existant being into one of its kind -- typically by "infecting" a victim with a bite, though other means appear in more unusual stories -- but Black Steel personnel have to date found no definite evidence of such an occurrence outside of folklore, and Theril doubts the long-term viability of a bite-propogated werebeast community. Indeed, the preponderance of evidence she has collected on groups of werebeasts in and around Grat'ha is highly suggestive of a family organization, with all the telltale signs of hereditary similarities. She grants the possibility that in more civilized lands, where werebeast communities of any kind are unlikely to prove lasting, "unusual" enchantments might be the norm among those rare cases where werebeasts appear at all, but remains skeptical of the idea of bite-based spell transmission, primarily because working a spell capable of performing such a feat would be difficult in the extreme, and would seem to serve no purpose that could not be more accomplished by simpler means. When the possibility of pantheonic intervention is raised in defense of the legends, Theril's typical response is, "Show me one case." So far, no one has met her challenge.
Some werebeasts show clear signs of rational thought in both human and bestial forms; recent experience in Grat'ha suggests that some are even capable of wielding sorcery. Others, in at least one form, seem to exhibit behavior consistent with their current animal species, or of a particular species into which they can transform. (Most werebeasts shift between only two forms, one of them usually human, but rare occasions have been reported of beings with three, or even more.) Yet others consistently act with such ferocity, rage, and violence as few creatures of the world ever sustain for long naturally, driven presumably by their particular enchantments, further clouding the question of who or what a werebeast truly is. As a result, any reasonably concise description of werebeast thought, culture, or society would be hopelessly misleading or incomplete, even if Black Steel personnel had any significant experience of studying such a society.
Among the popular myths about werebeasts are stories of transformations that wait for the light of the full moon, and about tremendous resiliance or resistance to harm in battle. Some say, for instance, that only a specially-blessed or silver-coated weapon can harm werebeasts. In some of these tales, there appear to be kernels of truth: Werebeasts are often larger, more cunning even when not actually rational, more ferocious, or otherwise more dangerous than their natural counterparts, and the act of transformation sometimes allows them to survive or more speedily recover than would a normal being from such wounds as they sustain. The notion that silver might be necessary or useful to defeating such creatures is strictly a northern myth, most likely spread by peasants who saw the gleam of a trained warrior's properly-upkept sword and attributed his success to his "silver" blade instead of his skill. When asked about specially-blessed weapons, Theril once responded, "It's quite normal for frightened people to trust in their priests and their faith to protect them, regardless of whether they can or do or need to help anything." Nothing she's seen since then has given her reason to change her stance. And as for full-moon transformations, the experience of Black Steel personnel has been that it is purest nonsense; some werebeasts appear to change forms at nightfall and revert at daybreak, and others to switch back and forth seemingly at will, but the time of month appears irrelevant.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Serpentfolk
(Note: While sorcerous intervention of one form another is assumed to have played a part in the history of essentially all beastman species, including the likes of merfolk, in none is the fact so apparent -- or the case so muddled -- as that of serpentfolk. Such insights into their origins as Black Steel personnel have encountered may hint at the means of all beastman origins ... or might be a case of convergence or imitation that only confuses the issue further. It is all but certain that there are human-like beings with serpent features who began life as strictly human entities, and acquired their serpent-like characteristics thanks to the intervention of magical forces directed by entities whom they worshiped ... and who themselves appear in shapes often associated with serpentfolk. Whether this form represents anything more than a reflection of the worshipers' beliefs and mythology, and the extent or nature of such corporeal beings' divinity -- whatever that means -- remains to be seen.)
Black Steel personnel have seen serpentfolk of so many different descriptions within the jungles of Grat'ha alone -- to say nothing of those they encountered in Night Harbor -- that a general description seems impossible. One reason for this -- perhaps among many -- was discovered when Herring and Theril first met Dotrum in the jungles: His own eyes have serpent-like slits instead of pupils, and he said that this was part of a blessing he received from the "jungle gods," as a mark of distinction, so that he would be recgonized for his service to them. The "jungle gods" to whom he refers apparently manifest in the form of serpents or serpentfolk of various descriptions, and convey gifts of serpent-like features upon those of their faithful to whom they give special blessings -- tokens that win their bearers much esteem in Grat'ha, apparently, presumably because it is associated with the form taken by the "jungle gods." Because these gifts are conveyed individually, they tend to be ... individual. Any number of different serpent features have been recorded, from eyes to scales to a tail for legs to an upper body and heads like a multi-headed serpent's instead of a human being's, reflecting the choices or natures of either "jungle gods" or their worshipers, or the specific gifts conveyed to specific members of the serpent faith. The types of serpents whose features are represented are likewise innumerable, such that it might be fair to say there is no such race as "serpentfolk" -- only human beings or those whom they worship, affected by something in the nature of the jungles' native mythology.
Further confusion arises from the encounters Herring and Theril have had with serpents and serpentfolk in Grat'ha who appear or purport to be gods themselves; as Theril put it, the behavior of some is more godlike than that of others. A group of serpents and serpentfolk who were worshiped as gods by local Grat'han tribes were observed to eat greedily, take routine and mundane interest in material things for their material uses, and lead slaves around the jungles to carry the offerings they received from their worshipers, without appearing to notice Herring and Theril as they watched and followed, though the pair were cloaked only with a simple spell apiece. Nilassashe, on the other hand, a serpent woman who traveled alone through the jungles and met with Herring and Theril personally, and whom Dotrum and two of his one-time companions worshiped as a goddess, really seemed, behaved, and reacted -- to the extent the words mean anything to an atheist like Theril -- like a divine being.
Outside the Grat'han jungles and their vicinity, Black Steel personnel have seen serpentfolk only in Night Harbor, and only in passing. Rat Pack members, notoriously unreliable in their reports unfortunately, claim to have seen serpentfolk whose human features were as pale as might be expected in those climes, naturally unlike that of serpentfolk native to Grat'ha. Their descriptions are all essentially similar anatomically however -- the pale-skinned serpentfolk seen in Night Harbor resemble merfolk so closely as to raise questions of whether they are related in some fashion, though the serpentfolks' tails are significantly longer and of course do not end in flukes. Unless the Rat Pack's members are making the whole thing up.
The sorcerous aptitude of mortal serpentfolk within Grat'ha is assumed to be the same as for any group of human beings, at least to the extent they are actually humans modified by gifts of the "jungle gods." Since the tribal conditions in Grat'ha render the transmission of sorcerous knowledge all but impossible between would-be wizards all but impossible, it will be difficult to put the matter to a test. Theril observed that Nilassashe had spells of some kind woven around her, but whether these were related to active sorcery or to the nature of her existence or to some effect of myth and faith in the sorcerous world is as yet unknown.
Black Steel personnel have seen serpentfolk of so many different descriptions within the jungles of Grat'ha alone -- to say nothing of those they encountered in Night Harbor -- that a general description seems impossible. One reason for this -- perhaps among many -- was discovered when Herring and Theril first met Dotrum in the jungles: His own eyes have serpent-like slits instead of pupils, and he said that this was part of a blessing he received from the "jungle gods," as a mark of distinction, so that he would be recgonized for his service to them. The "jungle gods" to whom he refers apparently manifest in the form of serpents or serpentfolk of various descriptions, and convey gifts of serpent-like features upon those of their faithful to whom they give special blessings -- tokens that win their bearers much esteem in Grat'ha, apparently, presumably because it is associated with the form taken by the "jungle gods." Because these gifts are conveyed individually, they tend to be ... individual. Any number of different serpent features have been recorded, from eyes to scales to a tail for legs to an upper body and heads like a multi-headed serpent's instead of a human being's, reflecting the choices or natures of either "jungle gods" or their worshipers, or the specific gifts conveyed to specific members of the serpent faith. The types of serpents whose features are represented are likewise innumerable, such that it might be fair to say there is no such race as "serpentfolk" -- only human beings or those whom they worship, affected by something in the nature of the jungles' native mythology.
Further confusion arises from the encounters Herring and Theril have had with serpents and serpentfolk in Grat'ha who appear or purport to be gods themselves; as Theril put it, the behavior of some is more godlike than that of others. A group of serpents and serpentfolk who were worshiped as gods by local Grat'han tribes were observed to eat greedily, take routine and mundane interest in material things for their material uses, and lead slaves around the jungles to carry the offerings they received from their worshipers, without appearing to notice Herring and Theril as they watched and followed, though the pair were cloaked only with a simple spell apiece. Nilassashe, on the other hand, a serpent woman who traveled alone through the jungles and met with Herring and Theril personally, and whom Dotrum and two of his one-time companions worshiped as a goddess, really seemed, behaved, and reacted -- to the extent the words mean anything to an atheist like Theril -- like a divine being.
Outside the Grat'han jungles and their vicinity, Black Steel personnel have seen serpentfolk only in Night Harbor, and only in passing. Rat Pack members, notoriously unreliable in their reports unfortunately, claim to have seen serpentfolk whose human features were as pale as might be expected in those climes, naturally unlike that of serpentfolk native to Grat'ha. Their descriptions are all essentially similar anatomically however -- the pale-skinned serpentfolk seen in Night Harbor resemble merfolk so closely as to raise questions of whether they are related in some fashion, though the serpentfolks' tails are significantly longer and of course do not end in flukes. Unless the Rat Pack's members are making the whole thing up.
The sorcerous aptitude of mortal serpentfolk within Grat'ha is assumed to be the same as for any group of human beings, at least to the extent they are actually humans modified by gifts of the "jungle gods." Since the tribal conditions in Grat'ha render the transmission of sorcerous knowledge all but impossible between would-be wizards all but impossible, it will be difficult to put the matter to a test. Theril observed that Nilassashe had spells of some kind woven around her, but whether these were related to active sorcery or to the nature of her existence or to some effect of myth and faith in the sorcerous world is as yet unknown.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Horned Men
(Note: Like wolfmen and other types of beastmen, the origins of so-called "horned men" may have involved the intervention of sorcerous power, directed by human ideas and mythology. As with other species, it is not presently known whether actual wizards were in some way responsible, or whether they were created by less-direct sorcerous means, such as a pantheonic echo of human mythology. There do exist alternate hypotheses however that Horned Men may in fact have evolved naturally, probably from bears in some ways resembling the modern grizzly. Until reasonable evidence can be gathered, it is difficult to judge the strength of different hypotheses of the species' origin.)
The race most commonly referred to as Horned Men by human beings are built much along the lines of standing grizzly bears, but with hind legs and lower body better adapted to standing, walking, and running two-legged, and forelegs more closely resembling human arms, right down to the presence of an opposable thumb on each hand. Their skulls and brain cases are of course much larger than grizzlies', peaked by the enormous horns that give the race its name. These horns vary somewhat in shape and size along hereditary lines, some tending toward a spiral shape like a unicorn's, some curving slightly backward as they grow, some straight and smooth. They grow throughout the Horned Man's adolescence, but cease to grow upon maturity, even if damaged or broken. Horned Men communicate mostly verbally; their powerful vocal apparatus is flexible enough to make themselves understood in human language when they learn it, though their speech is extremely gutteral and there are a number of human vowels and other phonemes they can not duplicate properly. In some Horned Man cultures, the horns of defeated enemies are used to sound war calls or even for long-range communication, but this supplements verbal speech in all known cases, never appearing to replace it, even in combination with gesture and boy language (both of which are of course of great importance in Horned Man societies, as in so many others).
Black Steel personnel have as yet encountered only male Horned Men; females are reportedly significantly smaller than the males, with much smaller horns. Together with their children, they are fiercely protected by their male kinsfolk, living in well-hidden homes with numerous measures planned for their secret escape should those homes be found and invaded.
What Black Steel personnel know of Horned Man culture is almost entirely limited to the warrior culture of the one or two tribes which include members who have signed on with the Black Steel military. The fact that some of these were able to speak local human languages prior to meeting with Black Steel personnel suggests that some degree of commerce, or at least parley, does occur between Horned Man and native human tribes in the area, but there have been few opportunities of inquiring into its nature. The warrior culture with which Black Steel personnel are familiar unsurprisingly extolls physical strength and prowess, relying on (usually-)nonfatal duels (most often fought unarmed, though a Horned Man's natural weapons are dangerous enouigh in themselves) to resolve even the smallest disputes. Moreover, though Black Steel personnel aren't squeamish about much, some are nevertheless unhappy about the Horned Men's tradition of eating the bodies of worthy opponents slain in battle, and their desire to be eat or be eaten by their Horned Man comrades should they fall in battle themselves.
If Horned Men are capable of wielding sorcery in any fashion, news of it has yet to reach Black Steel personnel. If more were known about their culture or home life in general, such information might hint at their possible sorcerous aptitude, but as things stand, it is only possible to say that the warrior culture to which those Horned Men who have interacted with Black Steel thus far belong -- including those who have joined the organization as well as those defeated by its forces -- is not at all conducive to sorcerous studies.
The race most commonly referred to as Horned Men by human beings are built much along the lines of standing grizzly bears, but with hind legs and lower body better adapted to standing, walking, and running two-legged, and forelegs more closely resembling human arms, right down to the presence of an opposable thumb on each hand. Their skulls and brain cases are of course much larger than grizzlies', peaked by the enormous horns that give the race its name. These horns vary somewhat in shape and size along hereditary lines, some tending toward a spiral shape like a unicorn's, some curving slightly backward as they grow, some straight and smooth. They grow throughout the Horned Man's adolescence, but cease to grow upon maturity, even if damaged or broken. Horned Men communicate mostly verbally; their powerful vocal apparatus is flexible enough to make themselves understood in human language when they learn it, though their speech is extremely gutteral and there are a number of human vowels and other phonemes they can not duplicate properly. In some Horned Man cultures, the horns of defeated enemies are used to sound war calls or even for long-range communication, but this supplements verbal speech in all known cases, never appearing to replace it, even in combination with gesture and boy language (both of which are of course of great importance in Horned Man societies, as in so many others).
Black Steel personnel have as yet encountered only male Horned Men; females are reportedly significantly smaller than the males, with much smaller horns. Together with their children, they are fiercely protected by their male kinsfolk, living in well-hidden homes with numerous measures planned for their secret escape should those homes be found and invaded.
What Black Steel personnel know of Horned Man culture is almost entirely limited to the warrior culture of the one or two tribes which include members who have signed on with the Black Steel military. The fact that some of these were able to speak local human languages prior to meeting with Black Steel personnel suggests that some degree of commerce, or at least parley, does occur between Horned Man and native human tribes in the area, but there have been few opportunities of inquiring into its nature. The warrior culture with which Black Steel personnel are familiar unsurprisingly extolls physical strength and prowess, relying on (usually-)nonfatal duels (most often fought unarmed, though a Horned Man's natural weapons are dangerous enouigh in themselves) to resolve even the smallest disputes. Moreover, though Black Steel personnel aren't squeamish about much, some are nevertheless unhappy about the Horned Men's tradition of eating the bodies of worthy opponents slain in battle, and their desire to be eat or be eaten by their Horned Man comrades should they fall in battle themselves.
If Horned Men are capable of wielding sorcery in any fashion, news of it has yet to reach Black Steel personnel. If more were known about their culture or home life in general, such information might hint at their possible sorcerous aptitude, but as things stand, it is only possible to say that the warrior culture to which those Horned Men who have interacted with Black Steel thus far belong -- including those who have joined the organization as well as those defeated by its forces -- is not at all conducive to sorcerous studies.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Wolfmen
(Note: Like lizardfolk and other beastmen, wolfmen probably came into existence through the intervention of sorcerous power -- perhaps applied by human individuals, or perhaps applied by pantheonic reflections of human beliefs. It is not too much of a stretch to infer that their genesis is much older than that of most other beastmen however, as their resemblance to any particular animal other than humanity itself, notwithstanding their common name, is so distant and geographically varied as to suggest that a process of natural evolution may have occurred since the presumed period of sorcerous intervention. Dating that period in the absence of reliable fossil evidence is of course difficult, and other hypotheses of wolfman development may turn out to be better supported by the evidence as more comes in.)
"Wolfmen" is in the running for least accurate descriptive name in regular human use around the world -- and the competition is fierce, in Theril's opinion. They are no more nearly a cross between a wolf and a man than a bat is a cross between a bird and a monkey. Some humans -- especially among those who have had regular interaction with "wolfmen" and have some idea of what a wolf actually looks like -- refer to them by other names, the most common of which is simply "beastmen." Since this name would lead to confusion with the larger (though semi-arbitrary) category and frankly isn't very useful, Black Steel personnel tend to stick with "wolfmen" when they refer directly to this race at all. More often, Black Steel personnel use wolfmen's tribal or personal names and ignore the racial question altogether.
The wolfman best known to Black Steel personnel is of course Warphlad's longtime friend, Hegrakz -- a member of Black Steel himself, trained in team combat by Daryan and Warphlad -- and his reports on his native society, together with such information as can be gleaned from Black Steel's other encounters with wolfmen, form a reasonable basis for certain general observations, to the extent that "wolfmen" represent a single species at all.
Wolfmen encountered by Black Steel personnel have appeared for the most part to resemble large-limbed humans, covered in thick fur and with elongated (though not especially wolflike) snouts filled with teeth clearly intended for tearing meat, and pointed ears they are able to rotate consciously. Their build is typically stocky by human standards, though their overall size varies, perhaps (like humans' and especially goblins') due to environmental factors of various kinds. Their fur is normally brown to red-brown, sometimes with with black fur in spots, stripes, or other patterns, but reportedly tends to grey in the rare cases when they survive to reach old age. Wolfmen (commonly at least) sport short, furry tails, and tend to walk or run with what most humans regard as a peculiar gate, but perhaps because of their tendency (in Black Steel's experience) to dress in armor of one kind or another, their bodies appear otherwise to be essentially humanoid in shape. Hegrakz reports that -- in the village where he grew up at least -- armor was worn by important males even at home when "off-duty" apparently as a projection of their power and importance. Females in his village normally dressed themselves as well, but with colorful fabrics and such jewelry as could be had rather than armor of any kind. Unlike lizardfolk scales, wolfman fur does not appear to be paler, thinner, or softer in front than behind, at least in the cases that Black Steel personnel have seen.
Little is known of wolfman communities or lifestyles apart from what Hegrakz has described of his own -- a village with stringent laws viciously enforced and sometimes reinvented on the fly by the leading -- typically just the most physically powerful -- members of the community. Labor and especially hunting prowess were valued in word, but only power of physical oppression was valued in the fact of every-day society. Hegrakz himself -- having recognized the dynamic from an early age -- became one of the more capable and violently dangerous "leaders" of his community before being captured by a Black Steel military unit; he credits his childhood aptitude for yielding effectively to obviously superior force for his survival -- and his ability to recognize the realities of a situation, and lack of personal investment in his own village's culture, for his successful adaptation to the multiracial society into which he has since been integrated. On the whole, he claims to like his new situation better. "More wealth at the top, more wealth at the bottom, more wealth at every level. Better conversation. Better chance of still having what I want when I get old -- and of living to see the day. What's not to like?" To the frustration of the likes of Telaeri however, his knowledge of the culture he left behind is limited to practical, utilitarian considerations. As he frankly explains, "I was too busy climbing and staying on top to take an interest in the finer points of things."
Wolfmen -- at least in Hegrakz's villages and such others as Black Steel has become aware of -- unquestionably craft their own tools and clothing, though they are certainly not above taking what they can from other communities. Hegrakz is aware that communication occurred with other villages -- not always of other wolfmen -- sometimes in the course of war, sometimes in relative peace. He recognized some of the messengers, but otherwise took no special interest at the time. In any case, it appears likely to Telaeri that Hegrakz's perspicacity in seeing the true power structure of his community looked right past what may have been a rich, perhaps intertribal, artisan culture that -- at least in his village -- existed beneath and almost in spite of the power play in which Hegrakz involved himself.
If this is so, it may lend support to the notion that wolfmen are entirely without sorcerous aptitude. It remains possible that human prejudices are behind this conclusion, but in spite of the wolfmen's manifest sentience, they have never been reported, even in any tale or legend known to Black Steel, to wield sorcerous power -- not even in the form of shamanism.
"Wolfmen" is in the running for least accurate descriptive name in regular human use around the world -- and the competition is fierce, in Theril's opinion. They are no more nearly a cross between a wolf and a man than a bat is a cross between a bird and a monkey. Some humans -- especially among those who have had regular interaction with "wolfmen" and have some idea of what a wolf actually looks like -- refer to them by other names, the most common of which is simply "beastmen." Since this name would lead to confusion with the larger (though semi-arbitrary) category and frankly isn't very useful, Black Steel personnel tend to stick with "wolfmen" when they refer directly to this race at all. More often, Black Steel personnel use wolfmen's tribal or personal names and ignore the racial question altogether.
The wolfman best known to Black Steel personnel is of course Warphlad's longtime friend, Hegrakz -- a member of Black Steel himself, trained in team combat by Daryan and Warphlad -- and his reports on his native society, together with such information as can be gleaned from Black Steel's other encounters with wolfmen, form a reasonable basis for certain general observations, to the extent that "wolfmen" represent a single species at all.
Wolfmen encountered by Black Steel personnel have appeared for the most part to resemble large-limbed humans, covered in thick fur and with elongated (though not especially wolflike) snouts filled with teeth clearly intended for tearing meat, and pointed ears they are able to rotate consciously. Their build is typically stocky by human standards, though their overall size varies, perhaps (like humans' and especially goblins') due to environmental factors of various kinds. Their fur is normally brown to red-brown, sometimes with with black fur in spots, stripes, or other patterns, but reportedly tends to grey in the rare cases when they survive to reach old age. Wolfmen (commonly at least) sport short, furry tails, and tend to walk or run with what most humans regard as a peculiar gate, but perhaps because of their tendency (in Black Steel's experience) to dress in armor of one kind or another, their bodies appear otherwise to be essentially humanoid in shape. Hegrakz reports that -- in the village where he grew up at least -- armor was worn by important males even at home when "off-duty" apparently as a projection of their power and importance. Females in his village normally dressed themselves as well, but with colorful fabrics and such jewelry as could be had rather than armor of any kind. Unlike lizardfolk scales, wolfman fur does not appear to be paler, thinner, or softer in front than behind, at least in the cases that Black Steel personnel have seen.
Little is known of wolfman communities or lifestyles apart from what Hegrakz has described of his own -- a village with stringent laws viciously enforced and sometimes reinvented on the fly by the leading -- typically just the most physically powerful -- members of the community. Labor and especially hunting prowess were valued in word, but only power of physical oppression was valued in the fact of every-day society. Hegrakz himself -- having recognized the dynamic from an early age -- became one of the more capable and violently dangerous "leaders" of his community before being captured by a Black Steel military unit; he credits his childhood aptitude for yielding effectively to obviously superior force for his survival -- and his ability to recognize the realities of a situation, and lack of personal investment in his own village's culture, for his successful adaptation to the multiracial society into which he has since been integrated. On the whole, he claims to like his new situation better. "More wealth at the top, more wealth at the bottom, more wealth at every level. Better conversation. Better chance of still having what I want when I get old -- and of living to see the day. What's not to like?" To the frustration of the likes of Telaeri however, his knowledge of the culture he left behind is limited to practical, utilitarian considerations. As he frankly explains, "I was too busy climbing and staying on top to take an interest in the finer points of things."
Wolfmen -- at least in Hegrakz's villages and such others as Black Steel has become aware of -- unquestionably craft their own tools and clothing, though they are certainly not above taking what they can from other communities. Hegrakz is aware that communication occurred with other villages -- not always of other wolfmen -- sometimes in the course of war, sometimes in relative peace. He recognized some of the messengers, but otherwise took no special interest at the time. In any case, it appears likely to Telaeri that Hegrakz's perspicacity in seeing the true power structure of his community looked right past what may have been a rich, perhaps intertribal, artisan culture that -- at least in his village -- existed beneath and almost in spite of the power play in which Hegrakz involved himself.
If this is so, it may lend support to the notion that wolfmen are entirely without sorcerous aptitude. It remains possible that human prejudices are behind this conclusion, but in spite of the wolfmen's manifest sentience, they have never been reported, even in any tale or legend known to Black Steel, to wield sorcerous power -- not even in the form of shamanism.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Lizardfolk
(Note: Like the merfolk and other beastmen, the Lizardfolk appear highly unlikely to have evolved naturally without the intervention of human beings -- whether through direct applications of sorcery or or via mythology reflected through pantheonic power. As in other cases, it is of course likely that the species has evolved in the time since sorcerous powers took a hand in its development, and one can imagine a distant future in which different species descended from lizardfolk bear more in common with each other, even superficially, than any do with either lizards or humans. For the present however, the advent of the lizardfolk species appears to be recent on an evolutionary scale, and even lizardfolk isolated from each other in wildly different circumstances, and assumed by ignorant human societies to represent entirely distinct types of creatures, would be found if brought together to still be members of the same species.)
Best known to Black Steel personnel through their association with "Grim" -- a junior member of the Rat Pack in good standing -- lizardfolk are among the most common form of "beastmen" along the Fire Coast and around the Broken Sea. Lizardfolk bodies are covered in leathery scales that range in color from grey to green to brown, sometimes with camouflage patterns (but never with chameleon-like active camouflage abilities) -- almost always with paler or even white bellies and inner limbs, where their scales are noticably softer and suppler -- and their heads and eyes are decidedly reptillian, with forked tongues, and sharp needle-like teeth. Their fingers and wide-splayed toes are webbed with thick flaps of skin, and end in small, sharp claws, while their short legs and the arrangement of their hips allow them to run on all fours or swim as comfortably as they walk erect. Lizardfolk also have long, slender tails -- about the same length as the head and torso together -- which they use for balance when running, and as an extra propeller or rudder in the water. "Grim" claims (and many members of Black Steel believe) that lizardfolk also have a highly adapted sense of smell. When the subject comes up, Jacques insists that this is so much stuff and nonsense -- that Grim merely makes a show of sniffing at the air so he can feel like he's special, and can't smell any better than a "regular-type person." Jarvis always takes Grim's side however, often drawling, "It can hardly be expected to work when Jacques is nearby; you can't smell anything over his body odor."
Lizardfolk typically live in isolated communities, usually in wetland areas or on barren sea shores -- barren by human standards at least. They are well adapted to wetland life, and can make at least a subsistence-level living there, mostly by hunting and fishing. Those who live on the sea shores make their living almost entirely from or on the sea. As might be expected of a species with such numerous and isolated communities, lizardman cultures are highly diverse, within the range of their limited means. The facts of their environment limit the utility of metal tools or precision instruments of any kind, and most lizardfolk artwork, dress, and handiwork appears primitive by human standards for this reason. Even the lizardfolk "Sea Raiders" scattered around the rocky islands of the Broken Sea -- a group neither coordinated nor intending to identify with one another, nor even necessarilly aware of one others' existence from community to community, defined strictly by their means of making a living -- who commonly wear and use clothing, jewelry, and tools comparable to those of more civilized peoples, have never yet been known to build such things themselves; in fact, the objects in question are not only comparable but identical to those used by civilized, sea-going people, as the Sea Raiders subsist in large part on the goods they lift from recent shipwrecks or steal by stealthy night-time raids on ships at sea. Indeed, as they encounter specialized objects outside the context of their regular use, Sea Raiders have often been remarked to put their stolen bounty to ... unusual uses: One lizard chieftain, for instance, was recently witnessed wearing a gaudy necklace made entirely from forks and spoons. Grim himself may have originated in a more northerly lizardfolk tribe that behaved in the style of the Sea Raiders, or in one of the many wetlands tribes in the marshes just south of Illenia, or lived in both at different times of his life; he might be able to shed additional light on the lifestyles and cultures of those with whom he lived, but it's hard to say. Though he is happy to tell seekers-after-knowledge about his personal history, Grim's tales are, to use Jarvis's phrase, "somewhat unreliable in the matter of accuracy." Having spoken with Grim at some length on various occasions, Scaelorrel at least has inferred that some of the lizardfolk tribes of the north likely have rich oral traditions, which presumably bear as much relationship to their actual histories as does the beautiful maiden figurehead of a ship to the plant from which the paint for it was made.
With the exception of Sea Raiders out seeking wealth, lizardmen normally avoid the society of other sentient beings, defending their home ground when necessary but otherwise keeping to themselves. There are exceptions however, both of individuals who have managed to join some human or multispecies society -- with Grim as the leading example as far as Black Steel is concerned -- and of entire tribes that managed to overcome mutual mistrust, language barriers, culture clashes, and terrain-related difficulties to establish commerce with members of local human or goblinoid communities. Such trade is usually primitive and limited in scale, but does suggest an alternative to the type of relationship that exists between Sea Raiders and seafaring peoples, or the virtually nonexistant one between insular lizardfolk tribes and anyone outside their tribes of any description.
As with any sentient species whose members still mostly live in isolated tribes and primitive conditions, little can be said about the sorcerous aptitude of lizardfolk. Certainly they do not share the universal reliance upon and comfort with it of such beings as the elves, but if their potential were comparable to that of human beings, it would hardly be surprising, given their circumstances, if no wizards ever blossomed among them. Neither the necessary numbers to maintain a living tradition for long, nor the necessary institutions to retain knowledge beyond the lifetime of a student of sorcery, are present in any known lizardfolk society. Legends persist (as they do with nearly all beastmen) of shamanistic powers attributed to tribes' religious leaders, perhaps due to pantheonic action of some variety, but the veracity of these tales may be comparable to ... well, to Grim's personal histories.
Best known to Black Steel personnel through their association with "Grim" -- a junior member of the Rat Pack in good standing -- lizardfolk are among the most common form of "beastmen" along the Fire Coast and around the Broken Sea. Lizardfolk bodies are covered in leathery scales that range in color from grey to green to brown, sometimes with camouflage patterns (but never with chameleon-like active camouflage abilities) -- almost always with paler or even white bellies and inner limbs, where their scales are noticably softer and suppler -- and their heads and eyes are decidedly reptillian, with forked tongues, and sharp needle-like teeth. Their fingers and wide-splayed toes are webbed with thick flaps of skin, and end in small, sharp claws, while their short legs and the arrangement of their hips allow them to run on all fours or swim as comfortably as they walk erect. Lizardfolk also have long, slender tails -- about the same length as the head and torso together -- which they use for balance when running, and as an extra propeller or rudder in the water. "Grim" claims (and many members of Black Steel believe) that lizardfolk also have a highly adapted sense of smell. When the subject comes up, Jacques insists that this is so much stuff and nonsense -- that Grim merely makes a show of sniffing at the air so he can feel like he's special, and can't smell any better than a "regular-type person." Jarvis always takes Grim's side however, often drawling, "It can hardly be expected to work when Jacques is nearby; you can't smell anything over his body odor."
Lizardfolk typically live in isolated communities, usually in wetland areas or on barren sea shores -- barren by human standards at least. They are well adapted to wetland life, and can make at least a subsistence-level living there, mostly by hunting and fishing. Those who live on the sea shores make their living almost entirely from or on the sea. As might be expected of a species with such numerous and isolated communities, lizardman cultures are highly diverse, within the range of their limited means. The facts of their environment limit the utility of metal tools or precision instruments of any kind, and most lizardfolk artwork, dress, and handiwork appears primitive by human standards for this reason. Even the lizardfolk "Sea Raiders" scattered around the rocky islands of the Broken Sea -- a group neither coordinated nor intending to identify with one another, nor even necessarilly aware of one others' existence from community to community, defined strictly by their means of making a living -- who commonly wear and use clothing, jewelry, and tools comparable to those of more civilized peoples, have never yet been known to build such things themselves; in fact, the objects in question are not only comparable but identical to those used by civilized, sea-going people, as the Sea Raiders subsist in large part on the goods they lift from recent shipwrecks or steal by stealthy night-time raids on ships at sea. Indeed, as they encounter specialized objects outside the context of their regular use, Sea Raiders have often been remarked to put their stolen bounty to ... unusual uses: One lizard chieftain, for instance, was recently witnessed wearing a gaudy necklace made entirely from forks and spoons. Grim himself may have originated in a more northerly lizardfolk tribe that behaved in the style of the Sea Raiders, or in one of the many wetlands tribes in the marshes just south of Illenia, or lived in both at different times of his life; he might be able to shed additional light on the lifestyles and cultures of those with whom he lived, but it's hard to say. Though he is happy to tell seekers-after-knowledge about his personal history, Grim's tales are, to use Jarvis's phrase, "somewhat unreliable in the matter of accuracy." Having spoken with Grim at some length on various occasions, Scaelorrel at least has inferred that some of the lizardfolk tribes of the north likely have rich oral traditions, which presumably bear as much relationship to their actual histories as does the beautiful maiden figurehead of a ship to the plant from which the paint for it was made.
With the exception of Sea Raiders out seeking wealth, lizardmen normally avoid the society of other sentient beings, defending their home ground when necessary but otherwise keeping to themselves. There are exceptions however, both of individuals who have managed to join some human or multispecies society -- with Grim as the leading example as far as Black Steel is concerned -- and of entire tribes that managed to overcome mutual mistrust, language barriers, culture clashes, and terrain-related difficulties to establish commerce with members of local human or goblinoid communities. Such trade is usually primitive and limited in scale, but does suggest an alternative to the type of relationship that exists between Sea Raiders and seafaring peoples, or the virtually nonexistant one between insular lizardfolk tribes and anyone outside their tribes of any description.
As with any sentient species whose members still mostly live in isolated tribes and primitive conditions, little can be said about the sorcerous aptitude of lizardfolk. Certainly they do not share the universal reliance upon and comfort with it of such beings as the elves, but if their potential were comparable to that of human beings, it would hardly be surprising, given their circumstances, if no wizards ever blossomed among them. Neither the necessary numbers to maintain a living tradition for long, nor the necessary institutions to retain knowledge beyond the lifetime of a student of sorcery, are present in any known lizardfolk society. Legends persist (as they do with nearly all beastmen) of shamanistic powers attributed to tribes' religious leaders, perhaps due to pantheonic action of some variety, but the veracity of these tales may be comparable to ... well, to Grim's personal histories.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Merfolk
(Note: The species most commonly called the Merfolk is one of many that may be collected under the category of beastmen -- a category defined by certain assumptions about their origins, and already discussed under its own heading. It seems unlikely in the extreme that such creatures would have evolved naturally unless perhaps they were a seagoing people who evolved the human appearance of their upper bodies as a form of mimesis to attract human sailors or coastal people and win their sympathy -- probably a rather far-fetched theory. It therefore must be assumed that sorcerous power and human intention -- or pantheonic intervention based on human mythology or the like -- was involved in their origins. It is nevertheless possible of course that the species has since evolved from the form into which it was originally manipulated; differences between merfolk populations in isolated regions would likely be suggestive if we wish to learn when the species came to be.)
Of the many varieties of beastmen known or believed to inhabit the world, the ocean-dwelling merfolk are the best known to Black Steel personnel, thanks to Daryan's long-standing relationship with Greyilah from the northern sea and -- most importantly -- the sizable merfolk colony in Scabbard Harbor, with which Black Steel has established close diplomatic and economic ties, even going so far as to construct canals within the city to facilitate trade, communication, and commerce in spite of the natural barrier between air-breathing dwellers on land and gilled inhabitants of the seas. Though distant and casual observers -- or lazy ones -- are apt to say that merfolk are human from the waist up and fish from the waist down, those who actually interact with them know better: Though fish-like in appearance, their "tails" spread horizontally like a dolphin's fluke, with muscles arranged accordingly, and attempting to identify the point where their "human" body ends and their "fish tail" begins is essentially meaningless; no part of their body is entirely human in structure or design, from their amphibious breathing apparatus to their long arms and necks and exceedingly flexible spines. Their scales and skin tones tend toward white in front, with the scales often pale green or grey in color, and sometimes even a very pale blue, both but darken toward the backs, where dark green, grey, or even midnight-blue scales approaching black are not uncommon, as well as much darker skin which itself may sometimes be faintly tinted with blue or green. The scales do not end in a neat line above the hips as they are portrayed in the work of ill-informed artists, like the waistline of a dress, but extend around the sides and up the back, sometimes as far as the space between the shoulder blades in back. Merfolk hair is likewise almost always dark in color -- essenitally black -- though sometimes with greenish or bluish tints. The common wisdom around the Scabbard is that merfolk hair is always straight, but Theril isn't convinced; she postulates, "It's always straight because it's always sopping wet."
Among the merfolk of Scabbard Harbor, long hair is a sign of high station in both men and women; the leaders of their small tribe bind back their long locks while hunting with strands of seaweed, with fishermens' lines recovered from snags, or with fine line or wire bartered or purchased from their neighbors in The Scabbard proper. Simple tribesmen, from kelp farmers to fishherds to the soldiers of the village's standing undersea garrison, use stone or coral knives to keep their hair cut short, with craftsmen, war band leaders, and heads of families falling in between -- but commerce with The Scabbard has brought with it a growing sense of egalitarianism, to the point that some "lower-class" merfolk citizens have taken to visiting hair stylists along the canals to crop their short hair evenly or even in complicated styles meant to show off their best features as they swim. Making up for other signs of station, such as jewelry made from shells, corals, and pearls, or even human jewelry worked in The Scabbard specifically for underwater use, is naturally more difficult, but the greatest leveling influence of The Scabbard is simply its elevation of standard of living across the village. Resources and luxuries to which few or none of the merfolk had ever had access before -- ceramics are particularly valued -- have become so readily available that the community's leaders could hardly deny their people access even if they wished to do so. In turn, they provide such resources as they can gather more conveniently than can their shore-bound neighbors, from seafood and sea jewels to salvage from ships that sank off-shore.
It would be a mistake to assume that "merfolk culture" is exemplified by that of the Scabbard harbor colony, either before or after their extensive contact with The Scabbard itself; on the contrary, according to Daryan and Greyilah's testimony at least, distant merfolk tribes seem to have little in common apart from what is made necessisary by their environment, anatomy, and physiology. Though there are many similarities in language between the village where she was born and the one in Scabbard Harbor, they are clearly two entirely distinct languages, though with similarities. For Greyilah, learning to live among the merfolk of Scabbard Harbor -- not only for linguistic reasons -- was a difficult and challenging feat, and it was her eventual success that recommended her as an ambassador of sorts to merfolk communities around Kaiimar, whose language differs yet again from that of Scabbard Harbor's, though with much greater similarities, and whose customs and hierarchies vary from village to village enormously. Overcoming barriers to communication and trust will not be easy work in her situation, and it remains to be seen whether any merfolk support can be had for the battle for Kaiimar. It should be said that Greyilah's travels -- much aided and motivated by surface-dwelling humans -- are nearly unique among merfolk she or Black Steel personnel have met. At least among the tribes she has visited, most merfolk have little or no commerce with one another or other sentient races, and rarely travel far from their home villages. Of course, it may be that there are tribes in other regions of the sea whose tales and traditions are bound up with travel -- Black Steel's contacts simply haven't met any ... or didn't know it if they did.
Perhaps in large part because of their tendency -- among those Black Steel personnel have met -- to live in small, distinct communities, merfolk have never been reported to weave sorceries in the fashion of a wizard. As noted elsewhere, sorcerous potential is so rare among humans, and requires so much training before it can be realized, that a small human village without outside contact would have virtually no chance of maintaining the knowledge necessary for actual wizards ever to grow up there. If something similar is true for merfolk, they might individually be even more likely than humans to harbor sorcerous potential and yet never discover it. Of course, priests and shamans among the merfolk are reputed to wield or to be the vessels for extraordinary and miraculous powers, but the nature of such powers -- and indeed the truth of such reputations -- is the subject of much debate and uncertainty.
Of the many varieties of beastmen known or believed to inhabit the world, the ocean-dwelling merfolk are the best known to Black Steel personnel, thanks to Daryan's long-standing relationship with Greyilah from the northern sea and -- most importantly -- the sizable merfolk colony in Scabbard Harbor, with which Black Steel has established close diplomatic and economic ties, even going so far as to construct canals within the city to facilitate trade, communication, and commerce in spite of the natural barrier between air-breathing dwellers on land and gilled inhabitants of the seas. Though distant and casual observers -- or lazy ones -- are apt to say that merfolk are human from the waist up and fish from the waist down, those who actually interact with them know better: Though fish-like in appearance, their "tails" spread horizontally like a dolphin's fluke, with muscles arranged accordingly, and attempting to identify the point where their "human" body ends and their "fish tail" begins is essentially meaningless; no part of their body is entirely human in structure or design, from their amphibious breathing apparatus to their long arms and necks and exceedingly flexible spines. Their scales and skin tones tend toward white in front, with the scales often pale green or grey in color, and sometimes even a very pale blue, both but darken toward the backs, where dark green, grey, or even midnight-blue scales approaching black are not uncommon, as well as much darker skin which itself may sometimes be faintly tinted with blue or green. The scales do not end in a neat line above the hips as they are portrayed in the work of ill-informed artists, like the waistline of a dress, but extend around the sides and up the back, sometimes as far as the space between the shoulder blades in back. Merfolk hair is likewise almost always dark in color -- essenitally black -- though sometimes with greenish or bluish tints. The common wisdom around the Scabbard is that merfolk hair is always straight, but Theril isn't convinced; she postulates, "It's always straight because it's always sopping wet."
Among the merfolk of Scabbard Harbor, long hair is a sign of high station in both men and women; the leaders of their small tribe bind back their long locks while hunting with strands of seaweed, with fishermens' lines recovered from snags, or with fine line or wire bartered or purchased from their neighbors in The Scabbard proper. Simple tribesmen, from kelp farmers to fishherds to the soldiers of the village's standing undersea garrison, use stone or coral knives to keep their hair cut short, with craftsmen, war band leaders, and heads of families falling in between -- but commerce with The Scabbard has brought with it a growing sense of egalitarianism, to the point that some "lower-class" merfolk citizens have taken to visiting hair stylists along the canals to crop their short hair evenly or even in complicated styles meant to show off their best features as they swim. Making up for other signs of station, such as jewelry made from shells, corals, and pearls, or even human jewelry worked in The Scabbard specifically for underwater use, is naturally more difficult, but the greatest leveling influence of The Scabbard is simply its elevation of standard of living across the village. Resources and luxuries to which few or none of the merfolk had ever had access before -- ceramics are particularly valued -- have become so readily available that the community's leaders could hardly deny their people access even if they wished to do so. In turn, they provide such resources as they can gather more conveniently than can their shore-bound neighbors, from seafood and sea jewels to salvage from ships that sank off-shore.
It would be a mistake to assume that "merfolk culture" is exemplified by that of the Scabbard harbor colony, either before or after their extensive contact with The Scabbard itself; on the contrary, according to Daryan and Greyilah's testimony at least, distant merfolk tribes seem to have little in common apart from what is made necessisary by their environment, anatomy, and physiology. Though there are many similarities in language between the village where she was born and the one in Scabbard Harbor, they are clearly two entirely distinct languages, though with similarities. For Greyilah, learning to live among the merfolk of Scabbard Harbor -- not only for linguistic reasons -- was a difficult and challenging feat, and it was her eventual success that recommended her as an ambassador of sorts to merfolk communities around Kaiimar, whose language differs yet again from that of Scabbard Harbor's, though with much greater similarities, and whose customs and hierarchies vary from village to village enormously. Overcoming barriers to communication and trust will not be easy work in her situation, and it remains to be seen whether any merfolk support can be had for the battle for Kaiimar. It should be said that Greyilah's travels -- much aided and motivated by surface-dwelling humans -- are nearly unique among merfolk she or Black Steel personnel have met. At least among the tribes she has visited, most merfolk have little or no commerce with one another or other sentient races, and rarely travel far from their home villages. Of course, it may be that there are tribes in other regions of the sea whose tales and traditions are bound up with travel -- Black Steel's contacts simply haven't met any ... or didn't know it if they did.
Perhaps in large part because of their tendency -- among those Black Steel personnel have met -- to live in small, distinct communities, merfolk have never been reported to weave sorceries in the fashion of a wizard. As noted elsewhere, sorcerous potential is so rare among humans, and requires so much training before it can be realized, that a small human village without outside contact would have virtually no chance of maintaining the knowledge necessary for actual wizards ever to grow up there. If something similar is true for merfolk, they might individually be even more likely than humans to harbor sorcerous potential and yet never discover it. Of course, priests and shamans among the merfolk are reputed to wield or to be the vessels for extraordinary and miraculous powers, but the nature of such powers -- and indeed the truth of such reputations -- is the subject of much debate and uncertainty.