Polite Conversation in Kythus

The following excerpt is a response to a prompt about conversational etiquette from the r/WorldChallenges subreddit. The conversation is in-character; Nölna is speaking in his first language Kythusave. The literal translation into English is for my non-Kythan readers.

With thanks to reddit user u/thequeeninyellow94 Who provided the prompt and an engaging conversation partner.


Nölna: “Źa. Mana paplö Nölna.”

Hi. I named Nölna.

  • In Kythus a polite greeting and introduction is a good start.

TQIY: “Hello Nölna, I’m a non euclydian extraterrestrial being. How are you? A weird summer we got isn’t it?”

Nölna: “Mana zamaty kyägrä mana. Molëŧëv zumaty ŧalödwe tya źelëŧëv. Këxö ka pety kypälömeb kal ökäd?

I am healthy me. This-summer is-being wetter compared past-summer. How a being does not-full a room?

  • Asking about health and small talk about the weather is typically acceptable – even if it is obvious to everyone.

  • A direct question about a strangers oddness is not considered rude in Kythus.

TQIY: “Does not-full a room? Because it’s a pretty large room? Actually, I think I don’t get your question… could you explain what you mean?”

Nölna: ” Mana foŧömy wö. Mo mëp ŧalämastmü tya pryđ nuk muz ökäd, kylë ko pamagë. Këxö zaty muz odevy?”
I will-give reason. You have more-parts compared seen in the room, but all be-here. How is that possible?

  • Nölna is politely using the genderless pronoun ‘mo’ to refer to his conversational partner, as he does not know it, and assuming is an insult, but using the neuter/unknown is not rude, even if gender is potentially obvious to an observer.

  • The term non-Euclidean means nothing to a Kythan, as they do not know of Euclid, or his mathematical theorems.

  • A non-Euclidean being might be perceived as a demon.

  • Conversing politely with a demon is a grave sin according to the dominant religion of Kythus, best to figure that out quickly.

TQIY: “Fear not, a demon I’m not. I’m fully in the room physically as I’m one, as long as you don’t think too much about my continuity through time and space. I’m some kind of goddess if you want. Conversing with divine beings is fine right?”

(Is there some kind of pronoun to politely address people?)

Nölna: “Mana źalyplu. Mu hyëgrepmü tëfnaŧadytëfva zyhymanaty plo zacü. Zaflëd źëk mu balëma zaty ytwë đalug pegëxö. Ëmamova zaty kylud Pëolüva ud Rylava, mutëfvü hy mana hyöda. Kewö Ëmamova folekwy mana. Mana zaty mefë kal yten pënoköna.”

I unworried. The ways-of gods-and-goddesses never-mine-be for understanding. Speaking with the divine is usually less-direct praying. You are neither Peoluva or Rylava, the goddesses of my people. Why you would-be-shown me? I am only a simple farmer.

  • The extremely formal pronoun ‘Ëmamova’ [divine-2P-fem] is used as soon as you stated your preferred gender.

  • Every pronoun can be preceded by an appropriate adword to adjust the formality or politic of the speakers intent.

  • Nölna is also getting more verbose as the conversation continues. This is a subtle cue that he wishes to keep talking. Fewer and shorter sentences would be a way of indicating a lack of desire for extended conversation.

TQIY: “That’s the point; I’m actually looking for a perfectly normal conversation and there is nobody more qualified to talk about weather than a farmer. Beside, is there any reason I shouldn’t reveal myself to you?”

Nölna: “Mana źacü. Mana falüwam kywö. Ëmamutëfva përävü źulekwy Jödena Pelan, ka tëkapëpäho. Kyŧus hydrut odevy cesku ufomü nuk ka häje. Bleŧmü veflëd mamö zamëp ka zalakym drutyŧydük, kylë mamö xü voklëz vykru acëmü, ad prän usö kyëtömü. Ëmamova hydrutyŧydük zaty lëyp mana hydrutyŧydük?”

I understand. I suppose nowhy. The goddess herselves appeared to Jodena Pelan [Kythan spelling] – a tëkaherd. Kythan weather can change many times in a day. people say we have a blessed climate, but we also will-get savage storms, and deep winter snows. Your climate be similar-to my climate?

  • Responding to inquiries with a similar reciprocal inquiry is polite, and somewhat expected amongst Kythans.

TQIY: “Change many time in a day? Like changing a lot? Like going from clear to harsh storm? Because in that case, my climate isn’t like that at all, it change way slower.

And what is a tëkaherd?”

Nölna: “Mu baspëdë vacesku xö önëd ëgrepmü. Ödypelotok zaty balytwë ypuh kylë ejy ukrä. Ka tëkapëpäho zaty ka pëzapäho hy tëkamü, ka ytwë nokökwybe mamü zaŧüđ äsoc ypryc, öcy, ad wrütü. Ëmamova mëp ka nokökwybemü in ëmamova hylođuđüŧydük?”

It frequently changes by little ways. Rainfall is normally brief it, but much amount. A tëkaherd is a herder of tëka(s), a common farm-animal we grow for wool, milk, and meat. You have any farm-animals in your hearth-region?

  • Clarifying remarks are made without prejudice when the query comes from proper ignorance of the facts, as with foreign entities.

  • Had these questions come from a Kythan who should know better, the questions would either be ignored, or given a terse and dismissive response (depending on the relative status of the speaker to the listener).

TQIY: “Isn’t it problematic for managing your fields moisture (?) level?

We have animals which can produce both milk, meat and wool; they are called sheeps. How big are tëkaherd?”

Nölna: “Manü nokömü zamëp jynek pepalupäźy.” -he laughs- “Ödü tëkapëpäho fapakwotü aga mëtermü, kylë gry zaty ŧazö. Moge mu tëkamü mumü zapëpäho fapäkwotü bekrod aga mëter, ad fapakravy rä mëter. Kë zapaflät ka ‘shëps’?”

Our fields have good drainage. (Laughs) Some tëkaherds tall two meters, but most are more-short. Now the tëka they herd tall about divided two meter, and long one meter. (How) big a ‘sheeps’?

  • Answering a question literally (how big is a ‘tëkaherd’), when the intended meaning is apparent is a type of witty humour in Kythus.

  • A polite person will also answer the intended question (how big is a ‘tëka’).

TQIY: “Do you use all that water for something?

I’m not sure about the exact size of a sheep but they are slightly bigger than tëkas.”

Nölna:

(While not done intentionally, this is a error on the part of the writer.)

  • Nölna has been quite rude and left you hanging in conversation.

Nölna: “Lyu valüđäk vrepmü źoŧuđ. Ödü ejöfëmü vatöc lyu valënä ŧaflät oplumü ad vabrök ogëmü. Këlë ëmamova źođötru mana, mana źofräm mana hypezëv. Ëmamova äkë ëmamova hypejët.”

Water helps the crops grow. Some mills use water to-roll great wheels and grind grains. If you would-allow me, I must-return my labouring. You enjoy your visit.

This is a much more polite manner to disengage from a conversation.

  • Answer any last questions.

  • Politely suggest ending the conversation with a reason.

  • General wish for a positive departure.

TQIY: “I dismiss you mortal, go back to your mortal occupation. I’m kidding, thanks for your answers Nölna; may your fields flourish.”


Kyŧusave Phonetics

Vowels

Vowel

IPA

English Example

a

æ

“cat”

Open Front

ä

e

“case”

Close-mid Front

e

ɛ

“pet”

Open-mid Front

ë

i

“be

Close Front

o

ɑ

“pot”

Open Back

ö

o

“hole”

Close-mid Back Rounded

u

ʌ

up”

Open-mid Back

ü

u

“cue”

Close Back Rounded

y

y

by

Close Front Rounded

Consonants

Consonant

IPA

English Example

p

p

“sip

Labial Plosive

b

b

“tub

Labial Plosive

t

t

“cat

Alveolar Plosive

d

d

“did

Alveolar Plosive

k

k

kit”

Velar Plosive

g

g

goat”

Velar Plosive

m

ɱ

“hymn

Labiodental Nasal

n

n

“pen

Alveolar Nasal

r

r

“door

Alveolar,Trilled

f

f

for”

Labiodental Fricative

v

v

“cave”

Labiodental Fricative

ŧ

Ɵ

this”

Dental Fricative

đ

đ

then”

Dental Fricative

c

s

“lace”

Alveolar Fricative

z

z

“raze”

Alveolar Fricative

s

ʃ

“hiss

Postalveolar Fricative

x

ɣ

“exit”

Velar Fricative

h

h

hug”

Glottal Fricative

w

ʋ

woo

Labiodental Approximate

j

j

yes

Palatal Approximate

l

l

“pill

Alveolar Lateral-Approximate

ź

“schwarzwald”

Labalized Alveolar Fricative

Suupi – Experiment in recreating a fantasy recipe

So in the interest of having well rounded cultures for the World of Entorais I have established local culinary delights for several of the detailed cultures. One such dish is:

Suupi – Iskander

Suupi is a milk-broth chowder with pot roots, cubed whole fish, scallops, and fermented kelp. This particular dish is only served in the Isk Archipelago, or on-board Iskandean ships, and alongside a hearty dark grained bread with a mug of the dry pear-cider Apetil, it is a signature dish of Iskander. Different cooks may argue as to which fish are better than others, but generally any bony white-meat fish is used.

Sharing this in response to a worldbuilding challenge on Reddit generated some excellent Q & A:

Q: What kind of milk is commonly used?
A: Teica milk is most common, a rich creamy milk. Cebuc milk tends to pick up flavours from the plants eaten by the animals,, and given their propensity to eat nearly anything, can sometimes be off-tasting. Rabbuc have few species hardy enough for the wet climate of the islands, but there are a few, and when available their milk will be more often used for cheese making.

Q: Is fermented kelp a common food in the Isk Archipelago?

A: It is a regional preference (something like sauerkraut), the wetter climate proves to be challenging to making dried seaweed. Fermenting is different from pickling mind you.

Q: With the suupi being mostly seafood products, why isn’t it also cooked in other coastal regions close to Iskander?

A: Probably the fermented kelp. Most coastal areas around Entorais will have sea food chowders amongst their dishes. Few foreigners like the particular melange of tastes that define suupi.

Q: Have Iskandeans (or foreigners) come up with some cool modified foreign recipes with fermented kelp added in?

A: There is one fellow, a Waejiran immigrant, and proprietor of a tavern who has tried to blend Iskandean tastes with recipes from his homeland. Curries and other spicy dishes adapted to locally available seafood including the fermented kelp; it is a work in progress still.

Q: Are the spices required for those foods actually grown in the Isk Archipelago?

A: Aethios imports most of the spices he requires from his former homeland of Waejir. Efforts to grow them in a local garden so far have failed completely, or produced an inferior product.

So in the interest of getting a deeper appreciation for my imaginary people and their strange ways I decided to try making suupi on my own.

It was simple enough to start with a chowder based on my father’s old kalamojakka recipe, which I still know how to make, and adapt a few other ingredients to simulate the texture and flavour of the fermented kelp:

  • 6 large potatoes, cubed
  • 4 onions, chopped
  • 2 lb of fish, cubed – traditional recipes toss in the head, and fins, skin and all – (I used a flank of salmon with the skin on)
  • 1/2 lb of scallops – I skipped these altogether as I didn’t feel like going to buy some just for the experiment in case I had to dump it out.
  • 2 cups of green cabbage, chopped
  • 2 cups fermented kelp – an ingredient I didn’t have on hand so I faked the texture and flavour using (1 cup of dried black fungus – sourced from a local Asian grocer, comes cut in thin ribbons
    1 package of dried seaweed, chopped
    2 cups of fresh brewed coffee )
  • 1 tsp allspice
  • 1 tsp coarse sea salt
  • 1 tsp basil
  • 1 tsp curry powder
  • Fill pot to cover ingredient with equal parts fresh milk and water
  • boil until potatoes are soft throughout and skin falls of the fish.

Like Aethios himself, I set the pot to boil and then simmer to mix the flavours. When finished I ladled myself a hearty bowl full and sat down to eat.

Suupi experiment – looks about right, taste… an acquired one.

8/10 will eat again, especially as I have about six quarts of the stuff to get through since I can’t seem to cook one-person meals. Not for the light of stomach or those with delicate palettes. I can say it was definitely close to what I expected. The sour seaweed flavour is noticeable enough to be off-putting to anyone not used to such flavours. The slightly chewy slippery texture from the black fungus certainly meets my imagined texture for the kelp is simulates.

I can certainly commiserate with my fictional tavern keeper, and his efforts to improve upon such a unique cultural dish to no avail.

The Songs of Neelam

Gather round young ones, for I shall tell you the story of Neelam the Brave.

Neelam was a young Sildaryn of barely ten cycles, when his adventures began; about the same age as some of you.

You see, he was always wandering about the woods near the hinta sites, as is common for young ones such as yourselves. That is until one day he wandered a bit farther than usual, and he couldn’t find the familiar trees, or any trail marks to guide him back to the hinta.

Neelam was not worried at first, for he knew that foresters and gatherers from the hinta often traveled quite a ways in search of food and other resources, which they brought back for the rest of the clan.

But as evening approached and the night creatures began to wake, long shadows darkened the forest. Unfamiliar hoots and howls erupted from the darkness, as beasts which only moved about at night began to search for food, or prey.

Neelam felt very small and alone, without the safety of the hinta homes. He had no fire to drive back the darkness, he had no spear, he had no club. In fact all he had was a small knife, and a karo fruit he had found to nibble on should he feel hungry.

Neelam thought to himself – What good would a tiny knife be if a night prowler decided to make a meal out of me? What good was a karo fruit against the great serpents which squeezed the life from prey before consuming them whole? Thinking such thoughts made Neelam nervous, and then scared.

As he became more and more afraid, Neelam felt the humid breath of the jungle pressing in on him from every direction. He could hear murmurs, and far off voices calling to him. His eyes beheld faint blue lights, which danced and weaved, inviting him to come join them.

Now, as you all know, there are things out in the woods; older than any Sildaryn; older than the forest itself. And when these ancient ones call out, their voice can be so inviting that none can resist their pull.

Neelam knew that he should not listen, but how could he not; They offered him a warm place to rest, fresh food for hunger he did not feel, drink to quench a thirst he did not have.

Suddenly tired, and hungry, and thirsty, Neelam stepped away from the roots of the tree he was cowering against. His feet slowly plodding forward through the ferns and moss. He began to follow the dancing blue lights which weaved amongst the trees, and vines. Though they were faint, he could still see the path they led him along.

Neelam wondered where they were taking him, if the comfortable bed, food, and drink they whispered about would satisfy his growing needs. He wondered so much that he decided to call back to the voices, and ask them.

“What is this bed? What is this food? What is this drink?” asked Neelam.

And the voices from the shadowed forest answered. “The bed is your grave. The food is your flesh. The drink is your blood.”

These answers were no comfort to Neelam; How could he wake from a grave? How could he eat of his own body? How could he drink from his own veins? As he pondered these questions he realized that he would get no rest, or food, or drink from the whispers. They were not offering him comfort, they were offering him death.

Now we Sildaryn do not fear death, for it comes for us all in time, but neither do we rush to seek it out. Neelam knew this, and he was not ready to die. Certainly not scared and alone, and so small in the night-black forest.

Neelam knew something else; He knew that our ancestors, the family that came before us, our departed loved ones, are never gone, but watch from the trees. They would not want him to listen to those voices, which offered only death. So he called out. “I need no grave, I need no food, and I need no drink. I am Neelam, and I am watched from the trees!”

He threw down the karo fruit from his hand, and stood defiantly, holding his knife out before him. Challenging the whispers, “Show yourselves, or be gone!”

This act of brave defiance of the night caught the attention of kindly spirits. Three came forth from the bushes, trees, and shadows.

A yellow eyed tomka knelt before Neelam, offering its songs of strength to stand beside one so brave.

A bird of the high canopy flew down to rest upon his shoulder, whispering in his ear the song of flight.

And thirdly the very karo fruit he had thrown to the ground burst forth sprouts, which grew up around him in a ring of tangled branches, and as it grew he heard its song in the shake of its leaves, and the creaking of its branches.

Neelam sat down, and the tomka curled around him providing warmth, and comfort. The bird kept watch, and the karo trees provided shelter from the night. Neelam felt safe, he was not alone, and he did not fear the night any longer.

In the morning foresters from the hinta found Neelam asleep in a forest clearing, still holding his knife and clutching a karo fruit to his chest. No tomka, or bird, or tree nearby.

Neelam told them of his night, but they did not believe him, for no tomka tracks or feathers were seen, and the earth about him was not disturbed by any newly grown karo trees.

Neelam said he would prove that his story was true. When they returned to the hinta, he gathered the whole clan together… and he sang.

He sung the song of the karo tree, and the fruit in his hand grew sprout after sprout, taking root at this very spot.

He sung the song of flight, and rose up to seat himself upon the branches we now gather upon.

Thirdly, he sung a song of the tomka, calling out to the beast that kept him warm through the night. And as the hinta watched in awe, a tomka with two cubs walked forth from the forest, to circle below him.

Because Neelam was so brave, and pushed away his fears, we learned new songs.

Now we know to plant food at our hinta sites, so we need not travel so far into the forests.

Now we make our homes up in the branches of the trees, safe from the creatures of the night.

And tomka live beside us, protecting our young, and helping our foresters on patrol.

Listen well young ones, for the forest is full of songs yet to be sung by Sildaryn. Perhaps you will be the first to learn and teach a new song to our people, that we may continue to prosper and live in harmony with the forest we call home.


This is a short tale about a legendary Sildaryn, who became one of the first Dalfyn (Druidic spell-singers) of the Sildaryn people.

The Rook of Singing Water

Rook of Singing Water Token

The Rook of Singing Water

Having chosen to climb the escarpment and travel along the crest to avoid the marshy ground at it’s base I found a game trail. Presumably, local wildlife preferred the higher ground as well. The bluff had a back-slope, and a small river ran parallel to my chosen route. As I travelled I could hear some falling water ahead, and was eager to take in the view from above this unseen falls.

The trees cleared and I found what I initially thought was a tribal marker, denoting the bounds of some claimed territory. A forked cedar branch had been propped up by a mound of stones some 3 feet in diameter. Strung from the branch by leather thongs were carved tokens of bone, stone and wood, and a hardened clay disc about the size of my palm, marked with unrecognizable runes. I have included a rubbing I made of this ornament.

I looked about the clearing and saw several more of these markers, arranged seemingly haphazard manner, but all had a similar decorated branch. It wasn’t a tribal border at all, the piled stones were graves. I was already well inside the territory of some unknown peoples, and treading amongst their dead.

I recited a short prayer for the unknown departed and hurried through the clearing, leaving the graves disturbed no further. Upon reaching the far side and the welcoming shade of the trees again, I was stopped by a figure on the trail before me. It stood about a head shorter than myself, was leaner, by half, and carried a stone tipped spear in one of its four hands.

It made a gesture bringing all four hands together at the centre of its chest and then spreading them outward, palms open, except for the hand which held the spear. Not being sure what else I could do, I did my best to mimic the gesture.

It was at this exact moment that the blue twin-crested peeper whom I had befriended a while back, with a sample of my rations and some grubs from a dead log, decided to leave its perch in my pack, and climb atop my head. Seeing this the strange figure gave a whistled-snorting sound, and made a drawing in gesture with one hand. I can only presume it was a laugh, as I must have looked ridiculous in anyone’s eyes with my warbling lizard for a hat.

I was fairly certain its intentions were benign. In my experience, anything wanting to eat a person doesn’t bother to invite them to walk themselves to the larder. So, with a small lizard still adorning my head, I followed. As we walked, two more of these strange beings melted out of the woods and fell in step behind me, the green and brown hues of their scales made for excellent camouflage.

The falls it turns out was formed by several brooks and streams all coming together at a small canyon carved into the bluff over time. The rushing water, and my guide, disappeared over the edge into a narrow cleft in the rocks.

Peering over the edge I saw that a deep grotto had formed, extending well back from opening. Thick vines descended to the surface of a dark pool, and my host was climbing down them with alacrity I could not dream to replicate. I glanced back towards the way I had come from beyond the shoulders of my twin escorts, and began my own descent.

  • Excerpt from the collected works of Meihas “Far Walker” Vorshaus, Naturalist, Historian, Lay member of the Temple of Vorsha

The Rook of Singing Water is a unique colony of Etausi-Mal, whom have established a home in a large grotto fed by several mountain streams which culminate at a large cave opening. Numerous streams of water cascade and drop down through the ceiling into a wide deep pool of clear water. Suspended amongst sturdy vines hanging from the roof of the grotto, are the individual dwellings of the Etausi. Giant baskets woven from the still living vines, hang like fruit, each housing a handful of the colonies population.

Below the large pool of the grotto flows down a wide stair-like formation, in a series of mineral crusted pools. These pools in turn drain into a shallow lake. The lake itself is dotted with the floating island lodges of common lodge lizards.

This small piece of paradise is maintained by the rook, who have taken to domesticating the lodge lizards, as a sustainable food source. They practice agriculture utilizing some of the floating mats as garden plots, adding a layer of rich loamy soil and scattering the seeds of wild cereal crops, melons, squash, and some berry bushes. The domestication of animals and sustainable agriculture is rare amongst the Etausi. Most groups remain exclusively hunter gatherers.

Etausi-Mal, have the same four-armed bipedal body form of other Etausi, with long whip-like tails, stand on average about 1.5 (5′) tall, weighing approximately 60kg (130 lbs), their scales tend to greenish hues, some shift through the seasons to yellow, orange or red in step with local foliage.

They wear little clothing beyond simple harnesses for carrying tools, and pouches of supplies. Their tools are generally manufactured from wood, antler, bone, and stone.

ÄCÄDMÜ – TOKENS

A game originating in Kythus, that is played in taverns an gambling halls throughout Entorais using a paired set of discs marked with three shapes in three colours.

Players play to eliminate each others discs while trying to have the most remaining after the round  to score points according to two simple rules: “One by colour, two by shape”.

The material used, symbols, and colours vary widely with regional preferences, but the basic game and rules remain the same.

Simple farmers or tradesmen typically have sets of tokens carved from local hardwood, with simple cut shapes, and stained with plant dyes for colour. The most expensive set ever produced, belonging to the King of Kythus, is a ivory inlaid with garnet, sapphire, and topaz, banded in gold and silver.

The game is fast to play, and despite its exceedingly simple rules, can develop some very strategic play styles.


Complete Rules in PDF Format

Rabbuc

Rabbuc are variety of warm-blooded terrestrial herbivore. They resemble  deer with the heads of rabbits. A typical adult rabbuc weighs around 120 kg. Rabbuc frequent the grasslands of Anexea, but can be found throughout the continent. Many sub-species exist, each adapted to its particular niche.

Rabbuc show dimorphism between the genders with adult males being 50% larger than adult females on average. Young are live birthed usually as twins in the spring. and reach sexual maturity after one and a half years.

As ground foragers, rabbuc will consume grasses and other leafy plants, as well as the leaves of shrubs, and even the bark of some trees.

Rabbuc typically rely on speed and agility to evade predators, but if pressed may bite, or kick in defence. They also possess bony ridges along the back of the forelegs, which are more pronounced in males and used in sparring over breeding privileges.

Many species of rabbuc have been domesticated successfully, and typically make up about 30-50% of all pastured livestock depending on the nation. Rabbuc are a excellent source of fatty milk, meat, and supple leather.

In the wild rabbuc herds tend to number less than two dozen animals, generally under the control of a dominant male. lone encounters are generally with young males seeking a harem of their own.

COMMON RABBUC

The most often encountered species, and regular domestic variety. The common rabbuc is considered more docile than other species and is kept as a domestic source of meat, milk and leather. They tend to light brown or ginger toned hair.

LONG NECKED RABBUC

This variety of rabbuc has a distinctive elongated neck compared to others. As a browser of low to mid height trees and shrubs, they are often found in more arid regions of scrub land, or savanna. Their light tawny, or grey hair blends easily into the landscape providing some camouflage

MANED RABBUC

This species possesses a coarse, long haired mane similar to a horse. Their hair ranges through darker browns, and blacks.

RABBOX

A giant species of rabbuc, domesticated as beasts of burden and labour. The average adult can reach 2-3 meters in length, 1.5 meters at the shoulder, and mass between 4-700 kg.

SHAGGY RABBUC

Shaggy Rabbuc

Found in colder regions or altitudes, the shaggy rabbuc has a heavy coat of woolly hair. Where they are domesticated they provide a renewable source of textile fibres in addition to the usual meat, milk and leather.

SPINY RABBUC

This species of rabbuc is a dwarf variety rarely larger than 50 kg. They have stiff long whisker-like hairs along their spine and a shaggier than average coat. they are primarily found in foothills, and mountainous regions.

SPOTTED RABBUC

This exclusively plains dwelling species is somewhat smaller than average, and tends to form herds numbering in the hundreds.

WHITE FOOTED RABBUC

White Footed Rabbuc

This woodland dwelling species is noted for the distinctive white hair on the lower portions of their legs. Their coats tend to rust browns, and have white spots for the first few years.

Garke

Garke are legless mammalian predators, known for their fast and vicious tearing bites. There are several sub-species present on the continent of Anexea, each adapted to their local environment.

Found in packs of 2-6 (sometimes up to a dozen) animals, they are cunning and aggressive carnivores, often taking on prey much larger than themselves, using their ferocity and numbers to their advantage.

They are short furred creatures, with narrow tapered heads, and a rough scaley underbelly. Their hides are prized by furriers for their softness, colour and rich tones.

Their length is roughly one third head and neck, one third mid-body, and one third tail. Females tend to be larger than males, and live birth up to three young each spring once sexually mature.

BANDED GARKE

banded_garke

Banded Garke are predators in the more heavily forested, and jungle growth areas of Anexea. They have a black-and-white banded appearance, with brown or grey spots along the neck and head..

The adult size ranges between 20-30 kg, and .75-1.5 m in total length.

BLACK GARKE

Black Garke are predators of lightly forested areas of Anexea. They have a black-green colouration, with very dark brown and green brindling.

The black garke has teeth which are loose in their jaw, and will break off in the wounds of prey. These embedded teeth with often keep the wound bleeding, and can cause an infection if left untreated. This allows for the black garke to pursue and capture any prey that escapes.

The adult size ranges between 20-30 kg, and 1-2 m in total length.

BROWN GARKE

garke_brown

Brown Garke frequent grassland areas of Anexea. They have a dark brown colouration with lighter brown ruff.

The adult size ranges between 30-40 kg, and 1.5-2.5 m in total length.

DESERT GARKE

Desert Garke are a voracious predator of Krolaryn Wastes. They have a tawny colouration, and light through reddish-brown dappled hides.

The adult size ranging between 50-65 kg, and 2-3 m in total length.

SPOTTED GARKE

Spotted Garke are particularly large, and solitary hunters, found in more temperate scrub-land. Similar in colouration and pattern to the Desert Garke, but with pronounced  ring-like spots along their backs.

The Spotted Garke is the only venomous sub-species of Garke. Its bite delivers a slow acting paralytic poison which aids the creature in downing prey that may escape the initial attack.

The adult size ranges between 80-100 kg and 4-5 meters in length.

 

Flyx

Flyx
Flyx – © Sebastian Romu

These molluscs are a prized delicacy in the markets Kythan towns. They are known to exist exclusively within the river system of the Celvan River.

The body of a flyx is covered by a rough pebbly textured convex shell up to 25 cm in diameter. Radially arranged around the edge are six prehensile tentacles reaching double the radius of the body. The mouth, eyes, and stubby swimming tail, are all located under the shell, at the centre of the disc shaped body.

These creatures are omnivorous preying upon algae and small feshwater crustaceans.  Often found in groups of up to a dozen animals.  They seem to be hermaphrodites and live birth 3-4 young at semi random intervals seemly related to low population numbers.

The flyx, while fairly docile and often ignoring other creatures entirely, has a defensive mechanism of jetting ink at predators and escaping while under cover of the cloud generated. This ink is often collected from captured specimens, and used by cartographers and scribes. If handled gently they can be lifted from the water without incident.

Mother and Father

A pair of mytho-historical figures whom are often the protagonists in tales of wisdom or cleverness.

The pair are universally portrayed amongst the many cultural groups of Arkian ancestry. Details vary from culture to culture, and there are smaller regional differences within cultural groups.

They are usually described as a married couple, but sometimes as brother and sister, one mortal and the other spirit, and so on, but they are always together in some fashion.

Sögan ad Sögav (Father and Mother) – The Layor

To the Layoran people they are Sögan and Sögav and elderly married couple whom find themselves in all sorts of difficult situations, but manage to resolve the problems and obstacles, often in a clever and humorous manner.

Cögva ad Cögna Tyasmü (Mother and Father Fox-Rat) – Kyŧus

In Kythus the pair are portrayed as a mated pair of Tyasmü. Their stories are often parables involving encounters with other animals. As expected, cleverness and good moral behaviour wins the day.

Mala E Pala (Mother and Father) – Sildara

The Sildaryn people tell stories of Mala E Pala. This pair varies from the norm in that the couple are quiet young, and new to being parents. Stories told about the fires by Sildaryn storytellers almost always include Mala E Pala whenever family values, or clan traditions are part of the story.

Tanpi and Emel – Krolar

In Krolar they are Tanpi and Emel a young woman and man whom encounter all sorts of people while travelling. The stories include some moral about how to interact with strangers, or are simply humorous anecdotes with no strict moral message.

Dolf and Ardra – Iskander

In iskander the couple are seen as a fisherman named Dolf and his shape-shifting lover Ardra. The stories almost always involve Ardra getting into trouble, and Dolf coming to her rescue in some clever manner. Depending on the audience, these stories can be quite bawdy, or highly moral.

Bron and Sisa (Brother and Sister) – Malys

The Malys tells stories of brother and sister who are precocious and explore the forests around their home. Often finding themselves captured, or threatened by some beast. Working together, they cleverly trick the monsters, or animals, so they can escape and get home in time for dinner.

Qola and Sargus – Tabrani

To the Tabrani, these stories involve a man named Sargus, who is beset repeatedly by a trickster spirit Qola. Being wise and resourceful, Sargus always manages to escape the traps, or see through the trick, much to the dismay of the spirit Qola.

Ködda and Sännö – Kronaryn

The Kronaryn people portray them as the moons personified as a pair of young lovers who alternate rescuing each other from various predicaments, and troubles. The stories often carry a message of loyalty, love, truth, and consequence for ones choices.

Vignettes of Waejir

A friend once asked me what they were missing. I replied in a series of 1-2 sentence vignettes from my world. They said it was like I had actually been there, personally experiencing all the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells Best compliment ever.


The taste of a frosted peach on a hot summer’s eve while listening to the wysps buzz amongst the flowers.

The smell of freshly baked loaves being pulled from an oven, glazed with autumn honey and dusted with ground spicenut.

The subtle shades of ink tattooed to the neck, denoting the identity of a slave’s household.

The guttural speech of two vocanei greeting each other, while their mistresses talk gossip in the market.

The acrid smell from the funery pyres at the temple the of Neithur when the wind shifts.

The glint of sunlight off the golden ringed armour worn by the High Nobles’ elite guard.

The sucking squelch of clay blocks being cut from the flooded banks of the Untaltar, for shipment to the potters down stream.

The clang of hammers forging the red-steel blades in the High Nobles’ private armoury.

The taste of the salty mustard favoured by the hill-folk from the western foothills.

The fragrant breeze blowing from the orchards of spring.

The sonorous chanting from a procession of priests walking through the city on Cothur’s day.

The sparkle of light refracting through the fountain spray in the gardens of Seadeiadur’s wealthier citizens.

The soft pelt of a roan vocanei nuzzling for a treat from his master’s hand.

The ruins of Apeigadun “City of Tears” along the Southern caravan route. The eyes if it’s few wary denizens watching as you walk along side the wagons. People with almost nothing stare as a lifetime of wealth rolls past in wagons drawn by hardy rabbox.

The shrill cry of night stei hunting along the dunes, outside the circle of your campfire’s light.

The crunch of the scaled earth in the salt flats stretching to the horizon, beyond which lay the ruins of Siladun fabled home of the Goddess Silat herself.

A soft “pffft”, the only warning of a triggered puff rod cacti reacting to being brushed.

The musical trundle of cart wheels along the stone bricked streets during the morning arrivals at the opening of the daily market.

The rainbow of silk shirts on the crew manning the Ru-pani fishing boats docked at the wharf.

The exotic look of a tall red-haired slave, standing a full head taller than the others on the block. Broad shoulders reddened by the sun unfamiliar on the islands of Iskander, from which he came.

The light jingle of tiny silver bells adorning the hair sticks retaining the night black curls of a noble lady’s hair.

The hungry stare of street orphans, watching for apples falling from carts and stalls in the market bustle.

The warm fragrant waft from a cup of fruit sai, held in your fingers on a chill morning.


This is Waejir.