(Borne of a discussion with
psion , I dug up an old fantasy concept that's been rattling around for a long time and I decided to start fleshing it out. This is part 2 of the result.)
The Realm of Sejhat
(On the world of Om)
Dusom Yildizlar, the Caliphate of Man (Adam Kelifet)
In brief: Dusom Yildizlar (fallen stars) is the large landmass occupying the southwest region of Sejhat, with the Buyuk Al-Kabir Desert and Charbagh Sea forming the eastern frontier and the short, but precipitous Helmagh Mountains forming the northern frontier. Unlike the border between Elven Protipeiros and Dwarven Ilfand, the northern border between the Caliphate and the lands of the Beastfolk Alliance is not fully defined and frequently contested. Almost a third of the region is harsh, arid desert, the result of a massive rain shadow caused by the Mar Meingefn Mountains. No less than 5 deserts create the vast wasteland known as the Outrene. From northwest to southeast, these are the Helmagh Desert, the Kerab Basin, the Olu Plato Desert, the Buyuk Outrene Desert, and the Duz Gozyazi. Individually, these deserts can be traversed with proper planning, but together they create a vast, dry, inhospitable landmass inhabited mainly by nomads, homesteaders, bandits, and desert monsters.
Moving south from the five deserts, the land grudgingly and slowly gives way to steppe country similar to the Elven Lozeto, semi-arid plains devoid of trees but lush in golden grass. Yildizlar is also almost completely encircled by minor mountain ranges which provide protection from invaders but still allow moisture into the heartlands of the Caliphate. To the southwest, there is enough rainfall and ground water to produce rivers that flow year-long, and the steppe to the north gradually gives way to clusters of rugged trees and lush green plains, an area known as the Sepet. Continuing southwest, the Circas Peninsula stretches out into the Sea of Salmura, the main body of salt water on the West Coast of Sejhat. Circas, by contrast to the other regions of Yildizlar, is very lush and tropical, supporting a unique and abundant ecosystem as well as the flourishing Circassid Empire. The narrow Strait of Gangsa separates the Circas Peninsula from the Gangsa Tana, the kingdom of the Orcs, or Babilaki. The Gangsa Tana is both the landmass and the imperial boundary of the Orcish Empire, consisting of a large island whose northern coastline forms the boundary of the Charbagh Sea.
Yildizlar, by contrast to Protipeiros, is inhabited by a variety of different humanoids in spite of its reputation as being ruled by the Humans. In the West, at the junction of the Batgandar mountains and the Helmagh Desert live the Djinn, a melanistic enclave of nomadic Elf mystics. In the small spring-fed oasis valley of Siparia live the Siparids, an intelligent race of omnivorous saurian humanoids, arguably a race more ancient than any other humanoids in the known world. Circas is home to the Kolkan, a race of tiger humanoids that is well integrated into Circassid society and believed to be relatives of the similarly feline Checchiatari to the north. Finally, the Gangsa Tana is home to the Babilaki, or Orcs. While these races rule their respective territories, the Humans cohabitate with them and often oversee their affairs. The main seat of power, in Sepet, is demographically almost entirely Human.
Humans
Adam Kelifet:
The most instantly recognizable of the human factions, the Adam Kelifet, or simply ‘Caliphate’, predominantly occupies the Sepet, the western coastline, the Batgandar Mountains, and lands in the Outrene. It is simultaneously the intellectual center of Humanity, the theological center of the Odem faith, and the imperial center of Yildizlar. While the Humans are not the youngest of the proto-hominids, they have only fairly recently pulled themselves from obscurity and poverty thanks to the consolidation of power, the unity of religion, and the patronage of education provided by the now 400-year old Caliphate. Before this time, the Humans and Babilaki were constantly engaged in small-scale power struggles with neighboring fiefdoms over productive land, which is surprisingly scarce in Yildizlar. While the Babilaki gradually consolidated into the Gangsa Tana to the south and the Circassids rose in the Southwest, the Caliphate unified the cultures of the Sepet and all the human claims to the north and east, creating Yildizlar, named after the falling meteors from which the first followers of Odem forged their scimitars.
The rise of the Caliphate and the rise of the Odem Faith are so closely intertwined that they are nearly alike, but it is important to note that the Adam Kelifet is predominantly a state divided into four distinct branches of government. The Meclis represents the people with elected officials, the Caliph is the ruling monarch, the Rahiplik represents the Imams and the faith of Odem, and the Adalet oversees justice and the creation of laws throughout the land. The fundamental design of this system is that the needs of Humanity- leadership, religion, justice, and self-determination, will be balanced for the benefit of all. This does not always work as intended, as the systems of apointeeship, restrictions on voting, and occasionally foolish monarchs have at times caused the Caliphate to stagnate.
As a people, the Humans of the Caliphate are famously diverse. The cities and townships of Sepet, with its strong agricultural foundation, are bustling, cosmopolitan affairs driven by trade and a constant exchange of ideas. As the humans have adopted technologies and industrial concepts from the Dwarves, so too have they inhabited the problems of urban explosion, and many cities struggle with public hygiene issues. However, unlike the Dwarves, the humans have a long history of public works projects, and this is made clear by the many irrigation systems, aqueducts, drains, sewers, roads, and reservoirs that supply normally arid or crowded areas with a steady supply of fresh water. Some of these systems, built in the early days of the Caliphate, are still in operation.
To the north, however, is the much more rugged and precarious landscape of the Helmagh Mountains, inhabited by the Bazir people. While the Bazir are technically directly ruled by the Caliphate, many dismiss them as ungovernable due to their predilection for banditry, smuggling, and fierce independence. The Helmagh region is ruled by Zamindars, local lords whose main motivation for staying with the Caliphate is the unifying factor of the Odem faith and the steady supply of muskets, bullets, and gunpowder provided to them by the central government. Contrary to popular belief, the Odem faith was not born in Sepet, but rather the terrible highlands of Helmagh, and the locals feel an obligation to serve the religion through allying with the state.
Another culture of humans living in Caliphate territory, the Benni Sulayim, are unique enough to warrant their own entry.
Benni Sulayim:
Occupying the far eastern frontier of the Caliphate, the Benni Sulayim is a fascinating culture of warrior mystics, living in the very inhospitable landscape of the Olu Plato Desert as nomads and traders. If there is an example of the Human body’s ability to endure extreme environments, the Benni Sulayim make a textbook example, living on scarce supplies of food and water while maintaining a strong tradition and vibrant culture.
The Benni Sulayim are often known as warriors, but compared to most other humans they are in fact somewhat peaceful, understanding that war is exertion and exertion can easily mean death in the harsh desert. The Benni Sulayim, to suit their needs, have domesticated a wide variety of native desert animals to suit their needs, from small desert foxes to the Fawda, a large bipedal bird that the nomads use as a mount and a pack animal. Life for the Benni Sulayim is the embodiment of movement, since no one water cache can sustain permanent settlement and the salt and mana trades keep them constantly moving back and forth across the desert.
The Benni Sulayim are not actually staunch followers of the Odem faith, instead believing in a polytheistic and mystical religion where the deities are an omnipresent guiding force that is prone to trickery, but is generally benevolent. Well-behaved and constructive tribesmen and women can expect to be rewarded by the gods with a natural bounty or special opportunities while greedy or wrathful individuals may be led into the desert alone on false promises of water, then left to die.
As expert survivors, nomads, and explorers one would think that the Benni Sulayim would be in constant demand as guides, but few humans outside of their tribe have any prevailing interests in the Olu Plato or a need for guides, though some have recruited warriors and skirmishers from the nomads before. The Elves, always on the prowl for mana wells, also avoid the Benni Sulayim because of an ancient and mutual distaste they have for each other. For the right price a nomad may take an Elf to a previously undiscovered pool of mana, or he might lead you to a camp in the middle of the desert and leave in the night. Too many bad run-ins with the desert people have left a bad taste in the mouths of the Elves, and they prefer to utilize their less desert-savvy but more loyal Vardyrai guides to see their caravans through the desert.
Circassids:
Contrary to the paucity of the North and its deserts, the Circas Peninsula is a realm of plenty, where all kinds of life flourish. Unfortunately, compared to the garden paradise of Protipeiros, the jungles of Circas are filled with disease, infestations of insects, and cold-blooded primordial predators that make life in the jungle very difficult. While the humans of the North fought scarcity and each other for centuries, the Circassids fought the jungle and its nasty surprises. Not all surprises have been unfortunate, however, such as the tiger humanoids, or Kolkan, who were first discovered when bands of human hunters came across a band of the tiger men, who were also presumably looking for game. Not all of the Kolkans have since been warm towards the humans, but their societies have developed alongside each other and influenced each other, making for a reasonably close bond.
Gradually, the humans and Kolkan carved an empire out of the rainforests, relying largely on sea trade and transit between cities. When the Caliphate first approached the Circassids there was tension and a string of border wars, but gradually tensions between the two eased and the two empires are bound by treaty and trade. As it currently stands, the Circassids are in a flexible alliance with the Caliphate, but they retain full government autonomy, control over their military forces, and their religious policies. When the Caliph Mehmed II launched the ill-fated White Jihad against the beast races to the north with the intention of gaining land and expanding the influence of the Odem faith, the Circassids very nearly withdrew from the alliance, but instead chose to send a token force of Kolkan warriors as auxiliaries, which ultimately did more harm than good for the cause of the Jihad as the Kolkan established diplomatic ties with the similarly feline Checciatari, allowing for a profitable line of trade between Circassia and Spezia, the cat peoples’ homeland.
Modern Circassid culture takes a few notes from the Caliphate, in particular the adoption of some architectural motifs and the influence of the Odem faith, but many still revere the Prophet Shambhai, otherwise known as Saumya, and idols depicting the man adorn temples and mantles throughout the empire. The Circassids are of generally lighter complexion than the cultures of the Caliphate. Their lands produce a variety of unique and desirable spices, silks, and a mildly narcotic beverage called, amusingly, Bhanabhanana, a word that becomes difficult to utter after two or three cups. Bhanabhanana is particularly popular among overworked Dwarven scholars and the Checchiatari, the latter of which has been known to fly into a brief euphoric frenzy of senseless activity and gibberish after imbibing just a single cup. Aside from silk, Circas is also a miller and exporter of Wist, a plant-based fiber that mixes well with cotton to produce fine textiles. Industry and scaled-up metallurgical operations have only recently been established in some Circassid cities, with the primary concern being the manufacture of artillery and the expansion of production capabilities.
Less flattering testimony on the Circassids is their system of social stratification. Part of what explains the fair skin of the Circassids compared to their neighbors is the fact that one’s position in Circassid society is based on their racial or tribal origin. Some tribes produce warriors, some produce rulers, and some produce stable cleaners and laborers, and each is distinguishable by facial characteristics and skin color. Thus, the life and occupation of many Circassids is determined the moment they are born, regardless of their potential otherwise. While most of this stratification is determined at birth, in some extreme cases members of higher classes have lost their social status as a result of prolonged exposure to sunlight. Of course, these widely publicized and temporary penalties to darkening one’s skin shouldn’t be mistaken for the notion that a dark-skinned pariah can magically ascend to greatness if they stay out of the sun. It only works one way.
Babilaki (Orcs)
The Orcs, or Babilaki, are culturally and geographically separated from much of the continent, their native Gangsa Tana protected on all sides by water. Dismissing the Orcs as isolationists, however, would be a mistake. The great island of Gangsa Tana itself is host to a variety of rich lands, from rolling grasslands in the north like the Sepet to thick jungles in the west to the active volcanoes of the east. The volcanic soil is productive and the tropical climate throughout the island is ideal for the cultivation of valuable cash crops.
With this bountiful land to call home, Babilaki civilization should have risen to an apogee centuries ago, but this is where the Babilaki as a people come into play. There is a fear of the Orcs among other races that is justifiable. Of all the proto-hominids, the Babilaki on average are taller, broader, and more muscular than all except the famous Giants, the males standing an easy 7 feet tall and the females typically at about 6 feet. They also admittedly and proudly have somewhat porcine facial characteristics, with flattened, somewhat upturned noses, pronounced lower jaws, and protruding, tusk like lower canine teeth. Babilaki, in fact, translates roughly to ‘pig face’, a name not derisively given the Orcs by outsiders, but rather embraced by the Orcs themselves, who see pigs as admirable creatures for their hardiness and lack of fear. Orcs also typically bear bronze or dark brown skin, often mottled into different shades across an individual’s skin. The old fable about Orcs being green is a superstitious myth popularized by the Dwarves, who until continental trade took root almost never saw them. Female and male Orcs, somewhat similarly to the Elves, have less sexual dimorphism compared to Humans, although where all Elves retain some femininity, all Orcs appear more masculine, sporting universally wide shoulders and powerful upper bodies.
With physical endowments that would be of obvious value to a warrior and a rich, productive land, the reason the Orcs did not embrace civilization sooner stems from their somewhat unique psychology. There are many unflattering myths about the Babilaki, most of them completely fabricated, but the one fundamental truth about Orcs is that they are stubborn and individualistic. The traditional concept of civilization, with a ruling monarch governing the lives of everyone around them, was rejected wholesale by the Babilaki. For millennia they lived in family groups with ample space between households, convening every few days into what amounts to a public forum where Orcs could rag on and throw rotten food at their tribal leader, an always elected and loathed administrator who served the common cause by acting as an official verbal whipping boy, absorbing the complaints and ire of the entire Orc community. As a result, the ‘tribal leaders’ of the early Orcs were almost universally Omegas and leadership, rather than carrying honor, instead carried stigma. Fortunately, tribal leadership was an elected position, so if discontent reached a fever pitch the tribal leader was often ousted through a vote rather than slain outright.
Thus the Babilaki retained a high degree of control over their personal lives for millennia, stunting the development of government structure by making it deeply unpleasant. However, in spite of their individualism and their reputation as ferocious humanoids, the Orcs themselves were not actually prone to resolving their conflicts through violence. What small conflicts there were between individuals or tribes were typically resolved through highly ritualized fights, which ironically had a more universally respected system of rules than any local government. Most fighting among Orcs is over territory and personal honor, but in several glimmering moments of history the Orcs united against a common cause, and that cause was always the Elves.
In spite of their independent attitude, the Babilaki have a great sense of racial pride, and when their most ancient enemies, the Elves, launched a campaign of brutal genocide against the Orcs the communities of fierce individuals united into a grand host, or some would say horde, of warriors bound together by a mutual hatred of the Elves and a will to protect their race from annihilation. In spite of being militarily and technologically inferior the Babilaki, backed by unbelievable fervor and numbers, successfully repelled the Elf invaders, though at heavy cost.
After 3 separate Elven invasions groups of Babilaki along the north coast, long engaged in small-scale trade with the Humans, began to seriously reconsider the value of a centralized government and the concept of civilization. The Humans to the north had at this point emerged from obscurity and were carving out their chunk of the continent in the name of things like racial unity, religious unity, and a stronger Humanity. The Babilaki, being more intelligent than most people give them credit for, started examining the government structures of other nations.
For centuries the Babilaki had managed to loosely organize some local municipalities, nothing larger than townships, based on the ancient principle of democracy. However, it was clear that raw democracy had weaknesses, particularly that it was prone to the whims of mob rule. In a sense, the first civilized Babilaki came to an understanding that Orcs don’t always know what’s best for them. Simultaneously, a society of Orcs ruled by a monarch or a high figure would simply not function since their every decree would be looked at as a violation of personal rights. A unified religion would not function perfectly either, since the Babilaki were steeped in ancestral worship, and everyone naturally had different ancestors. What remained to unify the Orcs was a sense of racial unity, and due to the particular isolation and demographics of the Gangsa Tana these first civilized Babilaki created a new concept: Nationalism.
Selling the idea of scaled-up government to the Orcs was not easy, but almost every family and every household across the realm understood the concept of Babilaki unity and the need to protect it, since just about everyone had lost a member of the household to the hated Elves in recent memory. The Gangsa Tana would be ruled by multiple layers of government, each actively shaping policy in a democratic forum, but each being guided by a code of ethics and regulations based, by no coincidence, off of the ancient rules of dueling and ritual combat. Babilaki citizens continue to play an active role in haranguing their local Walikota, who would in turn meet with a council of Walikota to start prodding the Hakim, who would meet with other Hakim to bother the Bos, and so on and so forth, up to a territorial government level. The form and function of the Babilaki Government on a federal level is somewhat secretive, and this is mainly designed to protect the central government from its people. While most matters are settled definitively by the territorial governments, anything relevant to the Babilaki on a nation-wide level is settled by the Judiciary, or Kehaki, the Military, and the Bayangan, the espionage branch. The products of these three central government entities are usually released, somewhat suspiciously, as ‘territorial reforms agreed upon simultaneously by all Babilaki’.
The product of this somewhat chaotic sounding government has been an explosion of Babilaki culture and international relevance in the last 150 years. The Babilaki have established a healthy line of trade to other empires and leased the Dwarves and Checchiatari several plantations that have since become quite lucrative. Babilaki communities remain small compared to the vast cities of the Humans, Dwarves, and Elves, but there is a higher density of small communities, all vibrantly interconnected by trade. More organized agriculture and labor has increased both population and the quality of life. The increased urbanization of the Babilaki also means that the atmosphere for trade and education has become much more secure, and there are rumors that the Humans have signed an allegiance with the Orcs in exchange for granting them new industrial technologies that will enable them to establish factories of their own.
Babilaki society is clearly on the rise, but there is a well-circulated sentiment among Orcs that if this new system fails to take the ancient war between the Orcs and Elves to the enemy’s homeland then the Orcs may reject this new culture altogether and return to the way of living they were comfortable with for millennia.
Siparids
In the lush, spring-fed, Siparia Valley lives an ancient race of saurian humanoids eponymously named the Siparids by foreigners, a convention generally accepted by the lizard men. Anatomically, the Siparids are a truly unique fusion of humanoid anatomy and the ancient reptilian life found in the wastes of the Outrene. Unlike true reptiles, the Siparids are warm-blooded, producing their own body heat. Unlike most humanoids they have a 3-chambered instead of a 4-chambered heart. Physiologically the Siparids are generally covered in a thick, but surprisingly smooth scaly skin that’s typically rust red or sandstone in color, adorned with bands of black and sometimes bright yellow. They have long, semi-prehensile tails, powerfully built digitigrade legs and three-toed feet with fierce sabre-like talons on the inner toes. Heel spurs are also common, but not universal. From the waist upwards, they have a clear humanoid resemblance, with narrow abdomens, broad ribcages and shoulders, and articulate human-like arms tipped with 3-fingered hands. The Siparids are also typified by somewhat long, muscular necks that allow individuals to turn their heads almost 180 degrees, to most unsettling effect.
Their heads bear the greatest resemblance to their reptilian and saurian counterparts, with long, pronounced snouts lined with an amazing variety of teeth, from razor-sharp in the front to rounded and conical in the center, and finally jagged, flatter teeth in the back as is fitting the opportunistic diet of the race. Their heads and faces carry a wide variety of morphologies considering the relatively small population of the race, ranging from sleek and almost snake-like to being festooned in bony spines. All Siparids have large yellow-green eyes with slit pupils, though unlike most lizards and saurians their sclera is visible, carrying a pink or red color instead of the white that’s most common in humanoids. Their eyes, though large by humanoid standards, are proportionally small for reptilians, and their craniums are larger and better developed, indicating a particularly high brain mass and intelligence for any saurian, making the Siparids the only sentient saurian species on Sejhat.
While the Elves constantly reinforce the notion that they were the first humanoids, they stammer whenever the issue of the Siparids comes up, and for good reason. The Siparids are perhaps the only saurian humanoids that have ever existed, as modern science and archaeology have not yet produced any evidence showing other similarly endowed saurians. What’s bad for the intellectual argument of the Elves is the fact that the Siparids developed a system of writing long before the Elves as a race even existed. Time and the ebb and flow of the Siparid race has not been kind to the legacy of their civilizations, nature’s hostilities all but erasing their grand achievements, but careful attention is paid to maintaining and rehabilitating the ancient steles, scrolls, and other engravings of the Siparids. The Humans are particularly interested in Siparid archaeology as their mathematical system and part of their alphabet is based on the saurians’ culture.
The Siparia Valley is the last, and perhaps the ideal enclave of the Siparids. In antiquity it is believed that after the horrible collapse of Siparid civilization, possibly due to war, climate change, or both, some refugees escaped to the safety of the valley, where they have since flourished in relative isolation, hunting the desperately thirsty animals that regularly stumble into the oasis. Since then the Siparids have set up an elaborate network of canals, buried cisterns, and enclosed aqueducts to take full advantage of the natural springs. Most of the water is used for crops and their curious livestock, which supports a stable population of the Siparids.
Siparid society is, strangely, not very aggressive. Where the Siparids could choose to lay claim to other lands or invade its neighbors, it chooses not to. In a fashion that the Giants of the Dwarven realms would understand, the Siparids once put on a terrifying show of force to scare away interlopers, but for the most part left well enough alone. However, as time has worn on and the continent of Sejhat has become more populous than ever, the Siparids have found themselves surrounded on all sides by land claimed by the Caliphate. Since the Siparids are well-versed in the ancient stories of how their race and culture was nearly annihilated by war, they chose a diplomatic alliance with the Humans, an alliance that has greatly served Human archaeological interests but hasn’t necessarily served the Siparids.
Human homesteaders have long wished to obtain water rights and land in the vicinity of the Siparia Valley, and while theoretically the Siparids are entitled to govern their territory and its resources as they see fit, the Caliphate does next to nothing to stop Human settlers from stealing water and siphoning it off, something that the Siparids fear could put their precious and protected water supply in jeopardy. Additionally, the Siparids are beholden to the Caliphate and is obligated to supply troops in spite of their cultural aversion to conflict. Just as the Kolkan auxiliaries, sent to combat against their inclinations, disregarded the orders of the Caliphate in the White Jihad the Siparid Swordsmen very nearly mutinied when asked to deliver a religion that wasn’t theirs to total strangers at sword point. Their performance was further stymied by the insistence of leading the Siparids with Human officers who didn’t understand the saurians’ language, culture, or tactics.
Since their early military disappointments the Siparid auxiliaries have been better integrated into the Caliphate’s military. Unfortunately, there is still considerable tension over the issue of Human squatters in the Siparia Valley and the unwillingness of the saurians to adopt the Odem faith. The isolation of their valley is a factor in the diplomatic strain between the Humans and Siparids, since any emissaries have to first cross the sizzling Kerab Basin before reaching the Siparid settlements.
Siparid culture places a high emphasis on family and society, and there is a prevailing notion that all Siparids are part of a single community, and that each individual’s actions have consequences for the entire race. Trade, education, honest toil, and even the arts are all tied into this central concept of benefit to society. This may seem a bit strange and uncomfortable to more individualistic societies, but much of the behavior stems from a genuine need for caution, especially since the all-important sources of water, the basis of Siparid existence, must be carefully used and managed at all times. Siparids are artful dancers and acrobats with very keen reflexes, and they work their dances and routines into their art of swordsmanship, at which the Siparids truly excel. Their placement on a vital oasis ensures that any trade crossing the desert comes their way at some point, and the merchant class of the Siparids is also vibrant, and arguably the most conceited part of Siparid society. It’s well known that Siparid merchants love to haggle others without being haggled themselves. Siparid culture is also renowned for its excellent craftsmanship, particularly with chitin. No agricultural or industrial means currently exist to manipulate chitin into workable armor and clothing, which gives the Siparids a monopoly on this light, effective, and highly desirable armor.
Kolkan
Living alongside the humans in Circas, one might initially suspect that these humanoid tigers have been ‘tamed’, being arguably the most fully integrated beastfolk race in Sejhat. However, to presume that the Kolkan have been cowed into living by human standards is a fallacy. Rather, a Kolkan would argue that human society is influenced by their venerable heritage and example, such is their pride. And their pride is somewhat justifiable.
Anatomically, the Kolkan share a lot of similarities with their Checchiatari brethren far to the north. They are humanoid felines of beastfolk stock with digitigrade legs, toes and fingers fitted with retractable claws, skin covered in fur, and expressive, long, flexible tails. By contrast to their kin, the Kolkan are universally more muscular and of broader build, and gifted with an incredible striped pattern across their orange and white fur. Also, being native to a tropical climate, their fur is mostly short and coarse to deal with excessive rainfall at a cost of insulation. The Kolkan also have a greater sexual dimorphism than humans and the Checchiatari, with males being formidably muscular and often a foot taller than the females, who, while still quite muscular by human standards, are not as powerful as their male counterparts. This hints at the patriarchal nature of Kolkan society.
The Kolkan once lived in native communities in the extreme southern section of the Circas Peninsula, making their existence as talented and well adapted hunters in the thick jungle. Lacking an early written language, one must rely only on oral history for the creation myth and the story of early Kolkan civilization. According to the tribal myth, a cub named Malika, destined to lead his tribe, was betrayed after the death of his father, forced to live alone in the jungle and marked for death by his tribe, he grew up in the brutal conditions of the jungle with only occasional help from people living on the outskirts of his former tribe. With a burning passion to get revenge and take his tribe back, Malika sought Ma-Ina, the god of birds and the hunt. Ma-Ina granted Malika a sacred spear, but under the condition that he bring law, honor, and greatness to the Kolkan. Malika used the spear to fight his way back to the throne of his tribe, and once that conquest was complete he told his people of the need to unite the Kolkan. The remainder of the civilization myth is bloody, but regards Malika and his spear as a blazing lance to sear away the boil of decay and corruption in the Kolkan tribes.
Although traces of Kolkan civilization date back some millennia, they strangely did not create a written language until about 800 years ago, creating a great paucity of reliable information about their rise. What is clear is that about 450 years ago the Kolkan and the Humans met each other for the first time. Although it’s likely that Humans and Kolkan had met previously, it was at this time that emissaries from both kingdoms met. What started as trade blossomed into alliance as it became clear to the Kolkan that the Humans vastly outnumbered them. The Humans, in turn, were afraid of what the Kolkan were capable of, having such a disciplined military with such formidable individual combat skills. The Kolkan were invited to the Circassid Empire and registered as a martial race, but as a consequence the Kolkan were prohibited from holding high public office and important administrative positions. The Kolkan, as a martial race, have special privileges in the military, but in most of Circassid society the Kolkan are limited by caste. Even so, being a race with a proud martial tradition and more than a bit of pomp, the Kolkan are content to share in the glory of the empire’s military might.
During the White Jihad, the Maharajah of Circas sent a small force of Kolkan sepoys to aid their allies in the Caliphate. There were signs that the Kolkan, as beastfolk, would have compunctions about fighting as mercenaries in a war against other beastfolk. However, it was argued by the Circassids that the Kolkan would fight and follow orders to preserve their highly developed sense of honor and martial prowess. This was only partly true, as the Kolkan, faced with fighting the feline Checchiatari, did their best to avoid direct conflict with the cats, instead subverting their directives and forcing the Checchiatari into a trade treaty. This was not difficult as the Kolkan were basically ‘demanding’ that their mercantile brethren accept a trade agreement that would be very lucrative for both sides. The agreement secured, the Kolkan became mysteriously hard to find, eventually showing up back in Circas in civilian clothes and trade vessels. The Maharajah, while upset with the Kolkan soldiers for collectively going AWOL in spite of their obligations to the Caliphate, were ultimately never punished because of the revenue their efforts brought to the Circassid Empire.
Modern Kolkan society is conservative and patriarchal in nature. As a martial race, most of its male population serves in the Circassid military, most often as its elite musketeers or marines. While most serve for the term of their enlistment and return home, many pursue commissions, one of the best ways to secure a steady income and station for the Kolkan. There are no restrictions on the number of wives one can hold in Kolkan society, and it’s typical for wealthy Kolkan who have made a life out of a military career retain a harem of wives. Kolkan females, traditionally relegated to domestic duties, seamstressing, or work as work as exotic dancers, have only very recently started emerging from their homes in number with the establishment of factories and textile mills in Circassid cities. Kolkan females, it seems, are intelligent and capable workers that will work for very low wages, a fact not lost on budding industrialists. The notion of Kolkan females having financial independence chafes some within Kolkan society, who regard the home, not the factory, as the domain of females. Females who have tasted the freedom that money provides, however, almost universally disagree and there is a real sense that modern Circassid society is creeping into the dens of the Kolkan, shaking the male psyche to the core.
Djinn (transplanted from “Elves” entry)
The Djinn are the only population and subspecies of elves that are completely separated from the Maenid Empire and all other Elven culture. The Djinn were desert natives, mystics, and proficient magic users who thrived in the Outrene before the Vardyrai pushed them out with the blessing and backing of the Maenid Empire. This may seem like unwarranted brutality, but the Djinn had long been enemies of the Maenid Empire, appearing in battle against their forces and bloodying them in hundreds of minor, small-scale skirmishes. As a result of their expulsion, the Djinn lived as nomads until they eventually settled in Human lands, in the foothills of the Batgandar Mountains.
Physiologically, the Djinn are distinguishable from other Elves for their unique melanistic traits, universally bearing dark bluish and sometimes greenish skin. Over the centuries they have also adopted much of the culture and dress of their human neighbors, with delicately embroidered lightweight silk and cotton garments, typically in warm or light colors, and wrapped headdresses such as Cheche turbans. The image of a Djinni in a Fez-style hat is generally an exaggeration, if only because such a hat is worthless in a dust storm, of which the Djinn endure many.
The Djinn retain a powerful capacity for magic, as well as precise training and instruction in the arts of Ramanar, the art of fire casting, and Whim, the art of illusion. Unfortunately, without ready access to an ample supply of mana, the Djinn are always restricted in the training and usage of their magic, and often have to trade for refined mana with humans since no Maenid Elf in their right mind would sell it to a Djinni.
Their theology is also unique compared to other Elves. The Djinn still believe that the Elves were the first of the proto-hominids, but that their culture was the progenitor of Elven society, that the continent is named after the sacrifice of their deity, Sejhat, who was betrayed by the other members of the Elven pantheon. The Djinn also believe in the eventual return of Sejhat and that he will take his rightful place on the throne of the Gods once more, but the myth warns that Sejhat can take any form and that the Djinn must help him regardless of his race. The rise of the faith of Odem, and the unification of the human cultures behind a single all-powerful deity, is regarded by the Djinn as a possible sign that Sejhat has returned, or soon will in either Human or Babilaki form. Naturally, the thought of their deity returning as an ugly Orc necessitates a bit of open-mindedness on the part of the Djinn.
Unfortunately, as an enclave of Elves living in diaspora, with only a patch of desert to call their homeland, the Djinn are largely looked down upon by their human neighbors who regard their mystical beliefs, their playing with fire, and their secrecy as mischief, or worse, dangerous subversion. Even so, as humans live in one of the most diverse and cosmopolitan lands on Sejhat. With the constant threat posed by the oppressive and militaristic Maenid Elves, there are some who understand that the Djinn would make very useful allies against potential Elven aggression.
Companion Sheets for the Continent of Sejhat:
Protipeiros, the Elven Maenid Empire (Afthonoch Maena)
Ilfand, the Dwarven Confederacy (Confederasiwn Gorrach)
Aidinsielu, the Beastfolk Alliance (Sayuss Narodnyhzver)
psion , I dug up an old fantasy concept that's been rattling around for a long time and I decided to start fleshing it out. This is part 2 of the result.)The Realm of Sejhat
(On the world of Om)
Dusom Yildizlar, the Caliphate of Man (Adam Kelifet)
In brief: Dusom Yildizlar (fallen stars) is the large landmass occupying the southwest region of Sejhat, with the Buyuk Al-Kabir Desert and Charbagh Sea forming the eastern frontier and the short, but precipitous Helmagh Mountains forming the northern frontier. Unlike the border between Elven Protipeiros and Dwarven Ilfand, the northern border between the Caliphate and the lands of the Beastfolk Alliance is not fully defined and frequently contested. Almost a third of the region is harsh, arid desert, the result of a massive rain shadow caused by the Mar Meingefn Mountains. No less than 5 deserts create the vast wasteland known as the Outrene. From northwest to southeast, these are the Helmagh Desert, the Kerab Basin, the Olu Plato Desert, the Buyuk Outrene Desert, and the Duz Gozyazi. Individually, these deserts can be traversed with proper planning, but together they create a vast, dry, inhospitable landmass inhabited mainly by nomads, homesteaders, bandits, and desert monsters.
Moving south from the five deserts, the land grudgingly and slowly gives way to steppe country similar to the Elven Lozeto, semi-arid plains devoid of trees but lush in golden grass. Yildizlar is also almost completely encircled by minor mountain ranges which provide protection from invaders but still allow moisture into the heartlands of the Caliphate. To the southwest, there is enough rainfall and ground water to produce rivers that flow year-long, and the steppe to the north gradually gives way to clusters of rugged trees and lush green plains, an area known as the Sepet. Continuing southwest, the Circas Peninsula stretches out into the Sea of Salmura, the main body of salt water on the West Coast of Sejhat. Circas, by contrast to the other regions of Yildizlar, is very lush and tropical, supporting a unique and abundant ecosystem as well as the flourishing Circassid Empire. The narrow Strait of Gangsa separates the Circas Peninsula from the Gangsa Tana, the kingdom of the Orcs, or Babilaki. The Gangsa Tana is both the landmass and the imperial boundary of the Orcish Empire, consisting of a large island whose northern coastline forms the boundary of the Charbagh Sea.
Yildizlar, by contrast to Protipeiros, is inhabited by a variety of different humanoids in spite of its reputation as being ruled by the Humans. In the West, at the junction of the Batgandar mountains and the Helmagh Desert live the Djinn, a melanistic enclave of nomadic Elf mystics. In the small spring-fed oasis valley of Siparia live the Siparids, an intelligent race of omnivorous saurian humanoids, arguably a race more ancient than any other humanoids in the known world. Circas is home to the Kolkan, a race of tiger humanoids that is well integrated into Circassid society and believed to be relatives of the similarly feline Checchiatari to the north. Finally, the Gangsa Tana is home to the Babilaki, or Orcs. While these races rule their respective territories, the Humans cohabitate with them and often oversee their affairs. The main seat of power, in Sepet, is demographically almost entirely Human.
Humans
Adam Kelifet:
The most instantly recognizable of the human factions, the Adam Kelifet, or simply ‘Caliphate’, predominantly occupies the Sepet, the western coastline, the Batgandar Mountains, and lands in the Outrene. It is simultaneously the intellectual center of Humanity, the theological center of the Odem faith, and the imperial center of Yildizlar. While the Humans are not the youngest of the proto-hominids, they have only fairly recently pulled themselves from obscurity and poverty thanks to the consolidation of power, the unity of religion, and the patronage of education provided by the now 400-year old Caliphate. Before this time, the Humans and Babilaki were constantly engaged in small-scale power struggles with neighboring fiefdoms over productive land, which is surprisingly scarce in Yildizlar. While the Babilaki gradually consolidated into the Gangsa Tana to the south and the Circassids rose in the Southwest, the Caliphate unified the cultures of the Sepet and all the human claims to the north and east, creating Yildizlar, named after the falling meteors from which the first followers of Odem forged their scimitars.
The rise of the Caliphate and the rise of the Odem Faith are so closely intertwined that they are nearly alike, but it is important to note that the Adam Kelifet is predominantly a state divided into four distinct branches of government. The Meclis represents the people with elected officials, the Caliph is the ruling monarch, the Rahiplik represents the Imams and the faith of Odem, and the Adalet oversees justice and the creation of laws throughout the land. The fundamental design of this system is that the needs of Humanity- leadership, religion, justice, and self-determination, will be balanced for the benefit of all. This does not always work as intended, as the systems of apointeeship, restrictions on voting, and occasionally foolish monarchs have at times caused the Caliphate to stagnate.
As a people, the Humans of the Caliphate are famously diverse. The cities and townships of Sepet, with its strong agricultural foundation, are bustling, cosmopolitan affairs driven by trade and a constant exchange of ideas. As the humans have adopted technologies and industrial concepts from the Dwarves, so too have they inhabited the problems of urban explosion, and many cities struggle with public hygiene issues. However, unlike the Dwarves, the humans have a long history of public works projects, and this is made clear by the many irrigation systems, aqueducts, drains, sewers, roads, and reservoirs that supply normally arid or crowded areas with a steady supply of fresh water. Some of these systems, built in the early days of the Caliphate, are still in operation.
To the north, however, is the much more rugged and precarious landscape of the Helmagh Mountains, inhabited by the Bazir people. While the Bazir are technically directly ruled by the Caliphate, many dismiss them as ungovernable due to their predilection for banditry, smuggling, and fierce independence. The Helmagh region is ruled by Zamindars, local lords whose main motivation for staying with the Caliphate is the unifying factor of the Odem faith and the steady supply of muskets, bullets, and gunpowder provided to them by the central government. Contrary to popular belief, the Odem faith was not born in Sepet, but rather the terrible highlands of Helmagh, and the locals feel an obligation to serve the religion through allying with the state.
Another culture of humans living in Caliphate territory, the Benni Sulayim, are unique enough to warrant their own entry.
Benni Sulayim:
Occupying the far eastern frontier of the Caliphate, the Benni Sulayim is a fascinating culture of warrior mystics, living in the very inhospitable landscape of the Olu Plato Desert as nomads and traders. If there is an example of the Human body’s ability to endure extreme environments, the Benni Sulayim make a textbook example, living on scarce supplies of food and water while maintaining a strong tradition and vibrant culture.
The Benni Sulayim are often known as warriors, but compared to most other humans they are in fact somewhat peaceful, understanding that war is exertion and exertion can easily mean death in the harsh desert. The Benni Sulayim, to suit their needs, have domesticated a wide variety of native desert animals to suit their needs, from small desert foxes to the Fawda, a large bipedal bird that the nomads use as a mount and a pack animal. Life for the Benni Sulayim is the embodiment of movement, since no one water cache can sustain permanent settlement and the salt and mana trades keep them constantly moving back and forth across the desert.
The Benni Sulayim are not actually staunch followers of the Odem faith, instead believing in a polytheistic and mystical religion where the deities are an omnipresent guiding force that is prone to trickery, but is generally benevolent. Well-behaved and constructive tribesmen and women can expect to be rewarded by the gods with a natural bounty or special opportunities while greedy or wrathful individuals may be led into the desert alone on false promises of water, then left to die.
As expert survivors, nomads, and explorers one would think that the Benni Sulayim would be in constant demand as guides, but few humans outside of their tribe have any prevailing interests in the Olu Plato or a need for guides, though some have recruited warriors and skirmishers from the nomads before. The Elves, always on the prowl for mana wells, also avoid the Benni Sulayim because of an ancient and mutual distaste they have for each other. For the right price a nomad may take an Elf to a previously undiscovered pool of mana, or he might lead you to a camp in the middle of the desert and leave in the night. Too many bad run-ins with the desert people have left a bad taste in the mouths of the Elves, and they prefer to utilize their less desert-savvy but more loyal Vardyrai guides to see their caravans through the desert.
Circassids:
Contrary to the paucity of the North and its deserts, the Circas Peninsula is a realm of plenty, where all kinds of life flourish. Unfortunately, compared to the garden paradise of Protipeiros, the jungles of Circas are filled with disease, infestations of insects, and cold-blooded primordial predators that make life in the jungle very difficult. While the humans of the North fought scarcity and each other for centuries, the Circassids fought the jungle and its nasty surprises. Not all surprises have been unfortunate, however, such as the tiger humanoids, or Kolkan, who were first discovered when bands of human hunters came across a band of the tiger men, who were also presumably looking for game. Not all of the Kolkans have since been warm towards the humans, but their societies have developed alongside each other and influenced each other, making for a reasonably close bond.
Gradually, the humans and Kolkan carved an empire out of the rainforests, relying largely on sea trade and transit between cities. When the Caliphate first approached the Circassids there was tension and a string of border wars, but gradually tensions between the two eased and the two empires are bound by treaty and trade. As it currently stands, the Circassids are in a flexible alliance with the Caliphate, but they retain full government autonomy, control over their military forces, and their religious policies. When the Caliph Mehmed II launched the ill-fated White Jihad against the beast races to the north with the intention of gaining land and expanding the influence of the Odem faith, the Circassids very nearly withdrew from the alliance, but instead chose to send a token force of Kolkan warriors as auxiliaries, which ultimately did more harm than good for the cause of the Jihad as the Kolkan established diplomatic ties with the similarly feline Checciatari, allowing for a profitable line of trade between Circassia and Spezia, the cat peoples’ homeland.
Modern Circassid culture takes a few notes from the Caliphate, in particular the adoption of some architectural motifs and the influence of the Odem faith, but many still revere the Prophet Shambhai, otherwise known as Saumya, and idols depicting the man adorn temples and mantles throughout the empire. The Circassids are of generally lighter complexion than the cultures of the Caliphate. Their lands produce a variety of unique and desirable spices, silks, and a mildly narcotic beverage called, amusingly, Bhanabhanana, a word that becomes difficult to utter after two or three cups. Bhanabhanana is particularly popular among overworked Dwarven scholars and the Checchiatari, the latter of which has been known to fly into a brief euphoric frenzy of senseless activity and gibberish after imbibing just a single cup. Aside from silk, Circas is also a miller and exporter of Wist, a plant-based fiber that mixes well with cotton to produce fine textiles. Industry and scaled-up metallurgical operations have only recently been established in some Circassid cities, with the primary concern being the manufacture of artillery and the expansion of production capabilities.
Less flattering testimony on the Circassids is their system of social stratification. Part of what explains the fair skin of the Circassids compared to their neighbors is the fact that one’s position in Circassid society is based on their racial or tribal origin. Some tribes produce warriors, some produce rulers, and some produce stable cleaners and laborers, and each is distinguishable by facial characteristics and skin color. Thus, the life and occupation of many Circassids is determined the moment they are born, regardless of their potential otherwise. While most of this stratification is determined at birth, in some extreme cases members of higher classes have lost their social status as a result of prolonged exposure to sunlight. Of course, these widely publicized and temporary penalties to darkening one’s skin shouldn’t be mistaken for the notion that a dark-skinned pariah can magically ascend to greatness if they stay out of the sun. It only works one way.
Babilaki (Orcs)
The Orcs, or Babilaki, are culturally and geographically separated from much of the continent, their native Gangsa Tana protected on all sides by water. Dismissing the Orcs as isolationists, however, would be a mistake. The great island of Gangsa Tana itself is host to a variety of rich lands, from rolling grasslands in the north like the Sepet to thick jungles in the west to the active volcanoes of the east. The volcanic soil is productive and the tropical climate throughout the island is ideal for the cultivation of valuable cash crops.
With this bountiful land to call home, Babilaki civilization should have risen to an apogee centuries ago, but this is where the Babilaki as a people come into play. There is a fear of the Orcs among other races that is justifiable. Of all the proto-hominids, the Babilaki on average are taller, broader, and more muscular than all except the famous Giants, the males standing an easy 7 feet tall and the females typically at about 6 feet. They also admittedly and proudly have somewhat porcine facial characteristics, with flattened, somewhat upturned noses, pronounced lower jaws, and protruding, tusk like lower canine teeth. Babilaki, in fact, translates roughly to ‘pig face’, a name not derisively given the Orcs by outsiders, but rather embraced by the Orcs themselves, who see pigs as admirable creatures for their hardiness and lack of fear. Orcs also typically bear bronze or dark brown skin, often mottled into different shades across an individual’s skin. The old fable about Orcs being green is a superstitious myth popularized by the Dwarves, who until continental trade took root almost never saw them. Female and male Orcs, somewhat similarly to the Elves, have less sexual dimorphism compared to Humans, although where all Elves retain some femininity, all Orcs appear more masculine, sporting universally wide shoulders and powerful upper bodies.
With physical endowments that would be of obvious value to a warrior and a rich, productive land, the reason the Orcs did not embrace civilization sooner stems from their somewhat unique psychology. There are many unflattering myths about the Babilaki, most of them completely fabricated, but the one fundamental truth about Orcs is that they are stubborn and individualistic. The traditional concept of civilization, with a ruling monarch governing the lives of everyone around them, was rejected wholesale by the Babilaki. For millennia they lived in family groups with ample space between households, convening every few days into what amounts to a public forum where Orcs could rag on and throw rotten food at their tribal leader, an always elected and loathed administrator who served the common cause by acting as an official verbal whipping boy, absorbing the complaints and ire of the entire Orc community. As a result, the ‘tribal leaders’ of the early Orcs were almost universally Omegas and leadership, rather than carrying honor, instead carried stigma. Fortunately, tribal leadership was an elected position, so if discontent reached a fever pitch the tribal leader was often ousted through a vote rather than slain outright.
Thus the Babilaki retained a high degree of control over their personal lives for millennia, stunting the development of government structure by making it deeply unpleasant. However, in spite of their individualism and their reputation as ferocious humanoids, the Orcs themselves were not actually prone to resolving their conflicts through violence. What small conflicts there were between individuals or tribes were typically resolved through highly ritualized fights, which ironically had a more universally respected system of rules than any local government. Most fighting among Orcs is over territory and personal honor, but in several glimmering moments of history the Orcs united against a common cause, and that cause was always the Elves.
In spite of their independent attitude, the Babilaki have a great sense of racial pride, and when their most ancient enemies, the Elves, launched a campaign of brutal genocide against the Orcs the communities of fierce individuals united into a grand host, or some would say horde, of warriors bound together by a mutual hatred of the Elves and a will to protect their race from annihilation. In spite of being militarily and technologically inferior the Babilaki, backed by unbelievable fervor and numbers, successfully repelled the Elf invaders, though at heavy cost.
After 3 separate Elven invasions groups of Babilaki along the north coast, long engaged in small-scale trade with the Humans, began to seriously reconsider the value of a centralized government and the concept of civilization. The Humans to the north had at this point emerged from obscurity and were carving out their chunk of the continent in the name of things like racial unity, religious unity, and a stronger Humanity. The Babilaki, being more intelligent than most people give them credit for, started examining the government structures of other nations.
For centuries the Babilaki had managed to loosely organize some local municipalities, nothing larger than townships, based on the ancient principle of democracy. However, it was clear that raw democracy had weaknesses, particularly that it was prone to the whims of mob rule. In a sense, the first civilized Babilaki came to an understanding that Orcs don’t always know what’s best for them. Simultaneously, a society of Orcs ruled by a monarch or a high figure would simply not function since their every decree would be looked at as a violation of personal rights. A unified religion would not function perfectly either, since the Babilaki were steeped in ancestral worship, and everyone naturally had different ancestors. What remained to unify the Orcs was a sense of racial unity, and due to the particular isolation and demographics of the Gangsa Tana these first civilized Babilaki created a new concept: Nationalism.
Selling the idea of scaled-up government to the Orcs was not easy, but almost every family and every household across the realm understood the concept of Babilaki unity and the need to protect it, since just about everyone had lost a member of the household to the hated Elves in recent memory. The Gangsa Tana would be ruled by multiple layers of government, each actively shaping policy in a democratic forum, but each being guided by a code of ethics and regulations based, by no coincidence, off of the ancient rules of dueling and ritual combat. Babilaki citizens continue to play an active role in haranguing their local Walikota, who would in turn meet with a council of Walikota to start prodding the Hakim, who would meet with other Hakim to bother the Bos, and so on and so forth, up to a territorial government level. The form and function of the Babilaki Government on a federal level is somewhat secretive, and this is mainly designed to protect the central government from its people. While most matters are settled definitively by the territorial governments, anything relevant to the Babilaki on a nation-wide level is settled by the Judiciary, or Kehaki, the Military, and the Bayangan, the espionage branch. The products of these three central government entities are usually released, somewhat suspiciously, as ‘territorial reforms agreed upon simultaneously by all Babilaki’.
The product of this somewhat chaotic sounding government has been an explosion of Babilaki culture and international relevance in the last 150 years. The Babilaki have established a healthy line of trade to other empires and leased the Dwarves and Checchiatari several plantations that have since become quite lucrative. Babilaki communities remain small compared to the vast cities of the Humans, Dwarves, and Elves, but there is a higher density of small communities, all vibrantly interconnected by trade. More organized agriculture and labor has increased both population and the quality of life. The increased urbanization of the Babilaki also means that the atmosphere for trade and education has become much more secure, and there are rumors that the Humans have signed an allegiance with the Orcs in exchange for granting them new industrial technologies that will enable them to establish factories of their own.
Babilaki society is clearly on the rise, but there is a well-circulated sentiment among Orcs that if this new system fails to take the ancient war between the Orcs and Elves to the enemy’s homeland then the Orcs may reject this new culture altogether and return to the way of living they were comfortable with for millennia.
Siparids
In the lush, spring-fed, Siparia Valley lives an ancient race of saurian humanoids eponymously named the Siparids by foreigners, a convention generally accepted by the lizard men. Anatomically, the Siparids are a truly unique fusion of humanoid anatomy and the ancient reptilian life found in the wastes of the Outrene. Unlike true reptiles, the Siparids are warm-blooded, producing their own body heat. Unlike most humanoids they have a 3-chambered instead of a 4-chambered heart. Physiologically the Siparids are generally covered in a thick, but surprisingly smooth scaly skin that’s typically rust red or sandstone in color, adorned with bands of black and sometimes bright yellow. They have long, semi-prehensile tails, powerfully built digitigrade legs and three-toed feet with fierce sabre-like talons on the inner toes. Heel spurs are also common, but not universal. From the waist upwards, they have a clear humanoid resemblance, with narrow abdomens, broad ribcages and shoulders, and articulate human-like arms tipped with 3-fingered hands. The Siparids are also typified by somewhat long, muscular necks that allow individuals to turn their heads almost 180 degrees, to most unsettling effect.
Their heads bear the greatest resemblance to their reptilian and saurian counterparts, with long, pronounced snouts lined with an amazing variety of teeth, from razor-sharp in the front to rounded and conical in the center, and finally jagged, flatter teeth in the back as is fitting the opportunistic diet of the race. Their heads and faces carry a wide variety of morphologies considering the relatively small population of the race, ranging from sleek and almost snake-like to being festooned in bony spines. All Siparids have large yellow-green eyes with slit pupils, though unlike most lizards and saurians their sclera is visible, carrying a pink or red color instead of the white that’s most common in humanoids. Their eyes, though large by humanoid standards, are proportionally small for reptilians, and their craniums are larger and better developed, indicating a particularly high brain mass and intelligence for any saurian, making the Siparids the only sentient saurian species on Sejhat.
While the Elves constantly reinforce the notion that they were the first humanoids, they stammer whenever the issue of the Siparids comes up, and for good reason. The Siparids are perhaps the only saurian humanoids that have ever existed, as modern science and archaeology have not yet produced any evidence showing other similarly endowed saurians. What’s bad for the intellectual argument of the Elves is the fact that the Siparids developed a system of writing long before the Elves as a race even existed. Time and the ebb and flow of the Siparid race has not been kind to the legacy of their civilizations, nature’s hostilities all but erasing their grand achievements, but careful attention is paid to maintaining and rehabilitating the ancient steles, scrolls, and other engravings of the Siparids. The Humans are particularly interested in Siparid archaeology as their mathematical system and part of their alphabet is based on the saurians’ culture.
The Siparia Valley is the last, and perhaps the ideal enclave of the Siparids. In antiquity it is believed that after the horrible collapse of Siparid civilization, possibly due to war, climate change, or both, some refugees escaped to the safety of the valley, where they have since flourished in relative isolation, hunting the desperately thirsty animals that regularly stumble into the oasis. Since then the Siparids have set up an elaborate network of canals, buried cisterns, and enclosed aqueducts to take full advantage of the natural springs. Most of the water is used for crops and their curious livestock, which supports a stable population of the Siparids.
Siparid society is, strangely, not very aggressive. Where the Siparids could choose to lay claim to other lands or invade its neighbors, it chooses not to. In a fashion that the Giants of the Dwarven realms would understand, the Siparids once put on a terrifying show of force to scare away interlopers, but for the most part left well enough alone. However, as time has worn on and the continent of Sejhat has become more populous than ever, the Siparids have found themselves surrounded on all sides by land claimed by the Caliphate. Since the Siparids are well-versed in the ancient stories of how their race and culture was nearly annihilated by war, they chose a diplomatic alliance with the Humans, an alliance that has greatly served Human archaeological interests but hasn’t necessarily served the Siparids.
Human homesteaders have long wished to obtain water rights and land in the vicinity of the Siparia Valley, and while theoretically the Siparids are entitled to govern their territory and its resources as they see fit, the Caliphate does next to nothing to stop Human settlers from stealing water and siphoning it off, something that the Siparids fear could put their precious and protected water supply in jeopardy. Additionally, the Siparids are beholden to the Caliphate and is obligated to supply troops in spite of their cultural aversion to conflict. Just as the Kolkan auxiliaries, sent to combat against their inclinations, disregarded the orders of the Caliphate in the White Jihad the Siparid Swordsmen very nearly mutinied when asked to deliver a religion that wasn’t theirs to total strangers at sword point. Their performance was further stymied by the insistence of leading the Siparids with Human officers who didn’t understand the saurians’ language, culture, or tactics.
Since their early military disappointments the Siparid auxiliaries have been better integrated into the Caliphate’s military. Unfortunately, there is still considerable tension over the issue of Human squatters in the Siparia Valley and the unwillingness of the saurians to adopt the Odem faith. The isolation of their valley is a factor in the diplomatic strain between the Humans and Siparids, since any emissaries have to first cross the sizzling Kerab Basin before reaching the Siparid settlements.
Siparid culture places a high emphasis on family and society, and there is a prevailing notion that all Siparids are part of a single community, and that each individual’s actions have consequences for the entire race. Trade, education, honest toil, and even the arts are all tied into this central concept of benefit to society. This may seem a bit strange and uncomfortable to more individualistic societies, but much of the behavior stems from a genuine need for caution, especially since the all-important sources of water, the basis of Siparid existence, must be carefully used and managed at all times. Siparids are artful dancers and acrobats with very keen reflexes, and they work their dances and routines into their art of swordsmanship, at which the Siparids truly excel. Their placement on a vital oasis ensures that any trade crossing the desert comes their way at some point, and the merchant class of the Siparids is also vibrant, and arguably the most conceited part of Siparid society. It’s well known that Siparid merchants love to haggle others without being haggled themselves. Siparid culture is also renowned for its excellent craftsmanship, particularly with chitin. No agricultural or industrial means currently exist to manipulate chitin into workable armor and clothing, which gives the Siparids a monopoly on this light, effective, and highly desirable armor.
Kolkan
Living alongside the humans in Circas, one might initially suspect that these humanoid tigers have been ‘tamed’, being arguably the most fully integrated beastfolk race in Sejhat. However, to presume that the Kolkan have been cowed into living by human standards is a fallacy. Rather, a Kolkan would argue that human society is influenced by their venerable heritage and example, such is their pride. And their pride is somewhat justifiable.
Anatomically, the Kolkan share a lot of similarities with their Checchiatari brethren far to the north. They are humanoid felines of beastfolk stock with digitigrade legs, toes and fingers fitted with retractable claws, skin covered in fur, and expressive, long, flexible tails. By contrast to their kin, the Kolkan are universally more muscular and of broader build, and gifted with an incredible striped pattern across their orange and white fur. Also, being native to a tropical climate, their fur is mostly short and coarse to deal with excessive rainfall at a cost of insulation. The Kolkan also have a greater sexual dimorphism than humans and the Checchiatari, with males being formidably muscular and often a foot taller than the females, who, while still quite muscular by human standards, are not as powerful as their male counterparts. This hints at the patriarchal nature of Kolkan society.
The Kolkan once lived in native communities in the extreme southern section of the Circas Peninsula, making their existence as talented and well adapted hunters in the thick jungle. Lacking an early written language, one must rely only on oral history for the creation myth and the story of early Kolkan civilization. According to the tribal myth, a cub named Malika, destined to lead his tribe, was betrayed after the death of his father, forced to live alone in the jungle and marked for death by his tribe, he grew up in the brutal conditions of the jungle with only occasional help from people living on the outskirts of his former tribe. With a burning passion to get revenge and take his tribe back, Malika sought Ma-Ina, the god of birds and the hunt. Ma-Ina granted Malika a sacred spear, but under the condition that he bring law, honor, and greatness to the Kolkan. Malika used the spear to fight his way back to the throne of his tribe, and once that conquest was complete he told his people of the need to unite the Kolkan. The remainder of the civilization myth is bloody, but regards Malika and his spear as a blazing lance to sear away the boil of decay and corruption in the Kolkan tribes.
Although traces of Kolkan civilization date back some millennia, they strangely did not create a written language until about 800 years ago, creating a great paucity of reliable information about their rise. What is clear is that about 450 years ago the Kolkan and the Humans met each other for the first time. Although it’s likely that Humans and Kolkan had met previously, it was at this time that emissaries from both kingdoms met. What started as trade blossomed into alliance as it became clear to the Kolkan that the Humans vastly outnumbered them. The Humans, in turn, were afraid of what the Kolkan were capable of, having such a disciplined military with such formidable individual combat skills. The Kolkan were invited to the Circassid Empire and registered as a martial race, but as a consequence the Kolkan were prohibited from holding high public office and important administrative positions. The Kolkan, as a martial race, have special privileges in the military, but in most of Circassid society the Kolkan are limited by caste. Even so, being a race with a proud martial tradition and more than a bit of pomp, the Kolkan are content to share in the glory of the empire’s military might.
During the White Jihad, the Maharajah of Circas sent a small force of Kolkan sepoys to aid their allies in the Caliphate. There were signs that the Kolkan, as beastfolk, would have compunctions about fighting as mercenaries in a war against other beastfolk. However, it was argued by the Circassids that the Kolkan would fight and follow orders to preserve their highly developed sense of honor and martial prowess. This was only partly true, as the Kolkan, faced with fighting the feline Checchiatari, did their best to avoid direct conflict with the cats, instead subverting their directives and forcing the Checchiatari into a trade treaty. This was not difficult as the Kolkan were basically ‘demanding’ that their mercantile brethren accept a trade agreement that would be very lucrative for both sides. The agreement secured, the Kolkan became mysteriously hard to find, eventually showing up back in Circas in civilian clothes and trade vessels. The Maharajah, while upset with the Kolkan soldiers for collectively going AWOL in spite of their obligations to the Caliphate, were ultimately never punished because of the revenue their efforts brought to the Circassid Empire.
Modern Kolkan society is conservative and patriarchal in nature. As a martial race, most of its male population serves in the Circassid military, most often as its elite musketeers or marines. While most serve for the term of their enlistment and return home, many pursue commissions, one of the best ways to secure a steady income and station for the Kolkan. There are no restrictions on the number of wives one can hold in Kolkan society, and it’s typical for wealthy Kolkan who have made a life out of a military career retain a harem of wives. Kolkan females, traditionally relegated to domestic duties, seamstressing, or work as work as exotic dancers, have only very recently started emerging from their homes in number with the establishment of factories and textile mills in Circassid cities. Kolkan females, it seems, are intelligent and capable workers that will work for very low wages, a fact not lost on budding industrialists. The notion of Kolkan females having financial independence chafes some within Kolkan society, who regard the home, not the factory, as the domain of females. Females who have tasted the freedom that money provides, however, almost universally disagree and there is a real sense that modern Circassid society is creeping into the dens of the Kolkan, shaking the male psyche to the core.
Djinn (transplanted from “Elves” entry)
The Djinn are the only population and subspecies of elves that are completely separated from the Maenid Empire and all other Elven culture. The Djinn were desert natives, mystics, and proficient magic users who thrived in the Outrene before the Vardyrai pushed them out with the blessing and backing of the Maenid Empire. This may seem like unwarranted brutality, but the Djinn had long been enemies of the Maenid Empire, appearing in battle against their forces and bloodying them in hundreds of minor, small-scale skirmishes. As a result of their expulsion, the Djinn lived as nomads until they eventually settled in Human lands, in the foothills of the Batgandar Mountains.
Physiologically, the Djinn are distinguishable from other Elves for their unique melanistic traits, universally bearing dark bluish and sometimes greenish skin. Over the centuries they have also adopted much of the culture and dress of their human neighbors, with delicately embroidered lightweight silk and cotton garments, typically in warm or light colors, and wrapped headdresses such as Cheche turbans. The image of a Djinni in a Fez-style hat is generally an exaggeration, if only because such a hat is worthless in a dust storm, of which the Djinn endure many.
The Djinn retain a powerful capacity for magic, as well as precise training and instruction in the arts of Ramanar, the art of fire casting, and Whim, the art of illusion. Unfortunately, without ready access to an ample supply of mana, the Djinn are always restricted in the training and usage of their magic, and often have to trade for refined mana with humans since no Maenid Elf in their right mind would sell it to a Djinni.
Their theology is also unique compared to other Elves. The Djinn still believe that the Elves were the first of the proto-hominids, but that their culture was the progenitor of Elven society, that the continent is named after the sacrifice of their deity, Sejhat, who was betrayed by the other members of the Elven pantheon. The Djinn also believe in the eventual return of Sejhat and that he will take his rightful place on the throne of the Gods once more, but the myth warns that Sejhat can take any form and that the Djinn must help him regardless of his race. The rise of the faith of Odem, and the unification of the human cultures behind a single all-powerful deity, is regarded by the Djinn as a possible sign that Sejhat has returned, or soon will in either Human or Babilaki form. Naturally, the thought of their deity returning as an ugly Orc necessitates a bit of open-mindedness on the part of the Djinn.
Unfortunately, as an enclave of Elves living in diaspora, with only a patch of desert to call their homeland, the Djinn are largely looked down upon by their human neighbors who regard their mystical beliefs, their playing with fire, and their secrecy as mischief, or worse, dangerous subversion. Even so, as humans live in one of the most diverse and cosmopolitan lands on Sejhat. With the constant threat posed by the oppressive and militaristic Maenid Elves, there are some who understand that the Djinn would make very useful allies against potential Elven aggression.
Companion Sheets for the Continent of Sejhat:
Protipeiros, the Elven Maenid Empire (Afthonoch Maena)
Ilfand, the Dwarven Confederacy (Confederasiwn Gorrach)
Aidinsielu, the Beastfolk Alliance (Sayuss Narodnyhzver)
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 41.7 kB
Finished the last one and now some feedback!
As a friend of the old estern culture i real affect this caliphate-idea. You're reading of human civilisations like in the late european middle ages mainly. Nice, but a little leached out. So the idea of a caliphate as the mainpower is, on the one hand a good variety and, on the other hand, something that the whole fantasy-genre really needs.
The Benni Suayim seem to be some type of Bedouins with a nice mystical touch. Like the Djinn, i really like the idea of dessert nomads.
And good to see/read, that your type of orcs isn't even as archetpyical as in other worlds.
The change from the traditional tribeculture that they lived in for such a long time, into this tripartite society is so much better than the dumb warrior-type-thingi.
The Siparids and Kolkan remind me a little of the Argonites and the Kajit of Morrowind, but that's my opinion.Nonetheless are this two very sympathic races with a real nice background and great culture, exeptionally the Siparids as the oldest (?) culture in Sejhat.
All an all very nice concepts, nice and spirited landscape descriptions, balanced race-arrangement, great culture-ideas and, most importand point, very well written.
Hope to read more in near future!
As a friend of the old estern culture i real affect this caliphate-idea. You're reading of human civilisations like in the late european middle ages mainly. Nice, but a little leached out. So the idea of a caliphate as the mainpower is, on the one hand a good variety and, on the other hand, something that the whole fantasy-genre really needs.
The Benni Suayim seem to be some type of Bedouins with a nice mystical touch. Like the Djinn, i really like the idea of dessert nomads.
And good to see/read, that your type of orcs isn't even as archetpyical as in other worlds.
The change from the traditional tribeculture that they lived in for such a long time, into this tripartite society is so much better than the dumb warrior-type-thingi.
The Siparids and Kolkan remind me a little of the Argonites and the Kajit of Morrowind, but that's my opinion.Nonetheless are this two very sympathic races with a real nice background and great culture, exeptionally the Siparids as the oldest (?) culture in Sejhat.
All an all very nice concepts, nice and spirited landscape descriptions, balanced race-arrangement, great culture-ideas and, most importand point, very well written.
Hope to read more in near future!
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