#nirhaq (species)

[yutzen]

Until the Rains Come

The following tale has been compiled as best as I could manage from every fragment I could identify within the various libraries of Ishiss (city and nation). I will readily admit the experience was both thrilling and immensely frustrating: Individual fragments have been well-known for quite some time already, but a number of minor yet notable contradictions prevented the rise of a true compendium, as leading figures I shall not be naming made mutually incompatible versions and declared theirs the most truthful, actively attacking others over assumed lack of veracity. I have done all I could to smooth over the contradictions and provide something closer to a definitive version, fully expecting to draw critique from the aforementioned figures for making such a claim. To them I would like to say: Go ahead. I have so much to tell you. The various fragments were delightfully well preserved despite dating to pre-Refuge times, thanks to the Ifchi’s sturdy paper-making techniques, but different interpretations of their contents only multiplied with time, obfuscating matters that should’ve been far simpler. If any further fragments show up beyond their Exit, I will be retrieving them personally this time.

Many a thread can be drawn between water and life. Both have been so tightly linked as to be synonymous throughout our existence; even those that thrive far from water will always need to carry some with them, and even the most sun-baked peoples must eventually return to it. But more importantly, more relevantly, many a thread can be drawn between water and Being[1] as a whole, not just for that which breathes and moves. As we and all others are shaped from water, Being is not just a state, but a fundamental part of all we know, the bottom-most building block. For all that lives, for the stone beneath our feet, for the air that surrounds us all, and even water itself. Even the emptiness beyond, the void that holds seemingly nothing, is in itself held up by Being; if it wasn’t, nothing could occupy it, for it would not be there at all[2].

The threads hardly end there. Much like water, Being is a limited thing. Just as water bodies of all kinds are surrounded by dry land and by empty air, made scarce in every direction, all Being is strung out in one body after another, hardly ever connected, held up by nothing, pressed down on by nothing, surrounded by nothing at all. True nothingness, that cannot be pushed aside so easily by anything that Is – not without intent, motivation, actual force that such masses of Being cannot usually muster by themselves. And just like water, Being can slowly fade into its surroundings, seemingly dissipating into nothing – except in this case, the nothing is very much literal. Being can slowly seep into the rest, too thin to hold or even be anything, too disperse to do anything more than exist. And just like murky pools in the mud, drying in the sun and steaming away into thin air, the thinner it’s strung, the quicker it can all fade away. Leaving nothing but vapors and cracking earth – or nothing at all, as the case may be.

But what of those that dwell in these pools? Are they to go quietly, dry out and die under the scour of these merciless surroundings? One of the big differences, the proper differences, is in the scale. With puddles strung across the mud, you hardly have much in them. At most, a few striders, a few dozen bogmites, anything beyond the hundred would be too small for the eye to see. Being, however? Even the tiniest drop, barely worth remarking on, could hold millions and millions like us, only vaguely aware the very foundation of their existence is vanishing with every passing year. You and I[3] are not even bogmites at such grand scales, and we are even more helpless in the face of such drying-up than they would be.

There are, however, those that aren’t us. And of them, there is one out there that we know is not helpless.

A curious entity, one that lives in nothingness yet needs Being to thrive. A wandering sort, never staying long in one spot, whether it Is or not. A creature of opposites, one that could only come to exist in the quagmire that occurs where existence and nonexistence meet. In this, and acknowledging its shape would be unclear to us all, I would compare it to a toad[4]. Skipping from pool to pool, diving and digging alike, sifting through the mud made by Being. And just big enough to change the very landscape around it, little by little, one shovel of its webbed limbs at a time.

And change the landscape it does. Just as a creature that is neither of earth alone, nor pure earth, would know best how to shape the places were both meet, this entity can shape its own quagmire with greater results than anything of singular nature. Neither[5] a creature of nothingness alone, Nor[5] one of Being like us, it alone can carve the grand, yet precise shapes it desires into the murky puddles that shape everything. And so it does, with every passing eon, seemingly dedicating all of its endless time to molding this swamp of existence to its own desires.

But what would such a creature desire? What manner of wants could a being so far beyond our comprehension even have, that we could understand? The answer is uncertain, but if I were to take the simplest guess, it would be: Preservation.

Preservation of what, you ask? Hard to answer. It could be its own life, keeping an environment it prefers, or perhaps there is something else to it. Perhaps it is aware of smaller beings like us. We only know what it does: When one of the pools of Being is running thin, when it seeps away into the nothingness, spreading into thin vapors unable to hold even the tiniest smidge of existence, this creature, this keeper of the quagmire, starts carving away the edges that keep it trapped in place, and lets all the Being held within flow freely, away in directions we could not perceive. What forces actually move these flows, we don’t know either, but we know exactly where it leads: To a greater pool.

For the comparison holds, as I said before: Greater masses of Being, much like greater bodies of water, do not dissipate nearly as quickly, and the deeper they go, the longer they can last. And the toad in charge will merge the unfortunate pools of existence into greater ones, forming ever greater bodies of Being dotting the nothingness beyond. Less of them, for sure, pooling their minuscule inhabitants together, forcing them to adapt, but perhaps it’s the price to pay in the face of oblivion – that is, if it even knows they’re there.

How long has it been doing so, one wonders? How many pools of Being have been merged, and come close to drying out again before having to be merged, again and again? Whole worlds blended into one, with their individual strings of history knotted into a singular rope, one by one? Is it perhaps doing this without aim, simply forming ever greater bodies, intervening only when they threaten to dry? Or is there a greater lake of Being somewhere deep, towards which it channels every last trace of existence so that it may last? Perhaps it’s the first of these answers that’s the most important of all. For it would determine the rest, wouldn’t it? If it’s been going long enough… all that’d be there would be scattered puddles, channeled through ever-greater distances into a grand, yet shallow lake, all that’s left of so many different masses of Being. Then again, it may not be so shallow, but the toad is never truly sated with its size. We simply do not know. All we can do is speculate…

And speculate we will. For however long this has been going on, the only thing we know is that it’ll continue. Perhaps until the end of time, when all dries up, even the biggest of all pools, and it’s forced to concede, roll over and die… But I wouldn’t think so. As I said, all Being that dissipates into the nothingness around it? It’s never truly gone. It’ll grow thick with existence, perhaps thick enough to start holding entities again, even if just the smallest of all. Perhaps Being shall coalesce, as the apparent end draws near, and the keeper of this quagmire has but the smallest puddle, the very last inches of a well, to itself…

Perhaps, just like the toads we know, all it needs to do is hold on until the rains come. And perhaps then, as the great string of puddles and pools is reformed, as the cracked earth of nothingness returns to a quagmire of its liking under the storm, it shall finally rest… While the rains last, at least.

[1]Direct translation from the word shurrif, which can double as noun (existence) and verb (to exist, to be), while acting as antonym to the word frush (nonexistent, not real). Every fragment insisted in using it as a noun, with context aiding the translation, and I have capitalized each proper use of the translated word for clarity’s sake. [2]If these passages seem more reiterative than they should, I apologize; part of the problem in compiling the tale from its fragments was that different sources often neglected passages and comparisons that others did use, and completeness’ sake demanded I weave them all together. [3]Unusually, between the fragments I collected, this was the most common, most possible translation. More curiously, not once did I find anything resembling an address to the reader, or the author referring to themselves as a writer; the closest I could find was something that would translate to “my dear interlocutor”, which both hints that these were once meant as transcripts, and baffles me as something anyone would deliberately speak, let alone write down. [4]An astounding number of fragments attempted to specify species-wise, rather than leave it at a more recognizable level. I have opted for the latter, rather than fall into the “scholarly” squabbles of trying to pinpoint individual manners of batracian. Again, all objections on this particular matter can be presented publicly, and I will welcome each and every one. [5]Unusually, the word I translated to “Neither” here often refers to a manner of temporary Exit-like gate to either a distant spot within the same realm, or more rarely, another realm, requiring an individual to “embody” it to function. Said individuals cause an overlap between areas, being “neither here nor there”, hence the colloquial name. While further elaboration is beyond the scope of this volume, the term does not seem to apply 100% here. But the parallels should be clear, and I chose to capitalize “Nor” as well to reflect this. -Excerpt from "Who is the Lord Below? A Treatise on the Radiant and Cthonic", authored by 'the Ever-Restless Nirrhamidh' (assumed pseudonym; author not yet identified and under active investigation)

[yutzen]

Perfect Echoes

This particular tale will upset some of my most avid, yet quietest readers, of this I am sure. For its origins are less than certain, contested between the Burnt and Bellbound hives, and the resulting struggles of ownership have whittled it down to uselessness with revisions and accusations within their respective territories. I find this contrary to the pursuit of knowledge as a whole, to the point I will throw caution to the wind and state the Bellbound should be ashamed for letting it reach such low points. Any who object to my statement may come to me, as they surely know my dwelling by now, and I wish to tell them my grievances in person for once. Nevertheless, the following tale’s origin is as obfuscated as the Hives’ own, and I could find nothing I could satisfactorily call an original. Instead, I was forced to piece it together from different translations in different languages, acquired all across the caverns and compiled together into a single version. I suspect Bellbounds (that's the Nirhaq, for those not yet aware) that objected to the aforementioned squabble much like I did spread these out by themselves, but that is beyond the scope of this volume.

While it remains obvious to any denizen of the Subterraneum with any sense of where they stand, even before taking refuge many of its now-dwellers had found that there are many realms beyond their own. Philosophers and scholars of reality itself often found ways to peer past the assorted veils, and find the existences beyond. Of course, in trying to reach such sights, most of them became familiar with what separated them. They saw where all they knew came to an end, giving way to a thick nothingness, separating them from all others… And they found the thin, thin layer keeping it all out. For everything we know is but another bubble, adrift in a sea few could ever cross. A million, million bubbles, all floating freely in an ocean[1] with neither surface nor bottom��� All except one. There is a singular bubble of existence, greater than any other, with the thickest walls of all keeping its being within, and the weight of nothingness outside. A perfect bubble, a flawless sphere, which – whether as coincidence or as an anchor to the rising archipelago[2] of bubbles in every direction – lies in the perfect center of it all, its own center matching that of everything. It is the First and Greatest[3], the most Perfect of all, perpetual and unassailable. And utterly, unquestionably empty, once. Nothing spawned within it, no life to grow and thrive, no land to be carved by age and water, nothing within but the walls and the darkness. It was not until bridges could be tended from other bubbles that anyone at all saw such perfect emptiness for what it was… And it was perfect. Utterly different from the nothingness outside, which crushed the chance of anything at all coming to pass. This was a void full of potential, a place that could hold anything, and had so little within it that even just a word or a thought could make a lasting mark upon it… And with its perfect shape, and the perfect walls surrounding it that could not be pierced by anything, such words and ideas could remain for a long time, bouncing off the walls in a similarly perfect echo if spoken in the right tone, reigniting their idea with every pass. With nothing to dampen them as they echoed across the interior, and nothing to lose with each bounce upon walls that seemingly received nothing, and pushed back everything. With the right words and dedication, one could bring anything to pass, feeding the echo as it passed each time, hitting the right cadence and tone each time[4]…

But as always, it only took one fool to set off its ruin.

Whoever pushed the first pebble in this avalanche that haunts us to this day, we don’t know. It was lost to time, if not rightfully wiped from it. We just know this emptiness had gathered a crowd, an actual settlement, by the time said individual raised their voice and called out the presence of a monster that wasn’t there. Cried out in fear, most likely feigned, that some indescribable destroyer was out for their life, and that of others. Yelled that it was a powerful beast, an outright abomination that could tear down anything and anyone…

And so it began. Just one voice to contaminate it all, its echoes bouncing back upon themselves, resonating with themselves, and with the ideas they brought in this utter emptiness that wouldn’t let them dissipate. Slowly, something began to take form, the faintest outline of a being that embodied this long-forgotten person’s claims… And yet, with such lofty claims, even this outline could kill, well before it could have a proper shape. Weaved together from the shouts that made it be, this unseen, phantasmal nightmare reached out and tore down their settlement, one stone-rending screech at a time. No one saw if it was clawing at them or striking with any limbs at all, all anyone knew was that where it screamed, homes crumbled, and their dwellers were rent apart.

Then, panic reigned. Monster, those attacked called out. Destroyer, they screamed out as they ran. Abomination, they cried as they witnessed their fellows slaughtered without warning[5]. What was just one voice quickly became an unwitting choir, feeding and strengthening the thing that’d come to pass. The thing would grow with their panic, drawn in by their cries, and so grew its reach and bloodshed, which spurred the horrified masses further into disarray…

Those who knew what was happening tried to intervene, but they had no contingencies. They never thought something like this could happen, that anyone would even think raise a false alarm just to create its own disaster. They knew to deaden the panic, but did exactly the wrong thing to achieve it. “There is no monster”, they tried to say, but the word “monster” was still heard. “This destroyer is but a hoax, a lie”, they repeated, but “destroyer” lingered on. “This abomination was made up, it doesn’t exist”, they shouted out, but only the word “abomination” survived, all the rest drowned and washed away in the echoes. They realized moments too late that to refute an idea, it had to be brought up, and that was enough in this perfectly malleable existence to make it real, irrefutable. And so, the thing’s existence was only stoked further by their mistakes and they, too, were rent apart.

In moments, it had become clear that wherever it saw chaos and horror, it and its bone-shattering screeches would follow… And soon, it hardly even needed to sow them by itself to know where to reach out and strike. The ideas and words that had brought it to life within moments would resonate with its existence, even if their origins had nothing to do with it, and they would call it forth. This formless thing was soon reaching well across the bubble’s confines, one side to another, to wreak its havoc in places where even one person had expressed a hint of fear, spoken about a monster – any monster – or fretted that a given barrier wouldn’t hold. And once it had reached there, it remained, its own rending shrieks joining the echoes that made it and fueled its wrath…

Soon enough, nearly everything that wasn’t it was gone. Even the very emptiness that once filled this perfect bubble was now just more of it, and the ever-rebounding echoes. Every corner was just another part of it, as its sound filled the void. The very walls became filled with its existence, as the screams soaked into once-impermeable barriers; they simply let it in, muffled yet undeniable, long before they could be cracked by its intensity, even if they never truly let it through. And in being filled with its presence, it’s essence, the walls that formed this bubble became yet another part of the formless monstrosity that but one voice had spawned. This Perfect Bubble had been swallowed whole by its existence… And it found it couldn’t tear the Bubble down. The thing couldn’t breach its own immaterial form with its own screams, couldn’t reach walls that were now inside it, and so, the echoes that formed it would never stop ringing, and would never be truly released…

But now that just enough of it had crept into the walls, it could still resonate with the outside, and listen. Terrified, familiar cries in languages it never knew, from peoples it had never met, in contexts no one it killed would’ve imagined. Monster. Destroyer. Abomination. Fear of things that come to tear down one’s abode without warning, unseen and unstoppable. All of this and more… In other bubbles, across the true nothingness.

And so, its reign of mindless terror would continue. What was once the Perfect Bubble was now but a destroyer of realms. And when, in some unfortunate bubble, the fearful murmurs of end-bringing beasts become loud enough to be overheard? The thing will reach out, stretching the walls that have become its body, and rend the source apart. Those within the realm are either swallowed by the crushing nothingness, or are scattered across its remnants, naught but thin suds spread in every direction… And sometimes, subsumed into the once-perfect bubble that both holds and is their hunter, as the suds merge with it like any bubble would.

Irony of ironies that those within are perhaps the safest of all, in spite of being buffeted to and fro by the maddening echoes of the one who tried to slaughter them…

[1]At least three translations referred to it as a lake, but I have gone with ocean, as those languages with a distinction between lake and ocean inevitably used the latter. [2]Direct translation from an Ishissi text, as other languages inevitably resorted to more general terms like “collection” (with one baffling Urul translation referring to them as “hill range”, which I decided against). Unusually (and for those who don’t grasp it), the Ishissi language does have a word for a collection of bubbles, but no texts ever resorted to it pre-Nixian Age. [3] Not every translation related to this part referred to it as either, let alone both, but I found none that outright contradicted it. [4]All texts coincided in these terms, usually reserved for music and sound as a whole, no matter the translation. If there was any error in translation or transcription, it happened far before the story was spread far and wide, and even those mutilated versions in Bellbound/Burnt spaces contain such terms. [5]The three words presented here found their own repetition in each translation, yet still differed between different languages, with very clear marks of imperfect translation from an original language. I use these terms as the closest I could find in the common tongue. Ironically, the most precise versions of the word I could find were from Bellbound texts that had otherwise been massacred.

-Excerpt from "Who is the Lord Below? A Treatise on the Radiant and Cthonic", authored by 'the Ever-Restless Nirrhamidh' (assumed pseudonym; author not yet identified)

[yutzen]

A Quick Biological Primer on Subterraneum Citizens

(From the archives again, this time more a lorefile than a story. But I would prefer to rescue this one quickly for the sake of clarity in the future. I will be linking back here often.)

So, if you've been following me for any length of time, been keeping up with certain writing prompt accounts, or generally just stumbled onto the things I've been writing that have the Subterraneum_(Yutzen), you may have a variety of questions. Mostly ones like "the fuck's an Ifchi".

In the interest of giving folks and also myself a reference for the more appearance-based or species-related questions, and keeping track of general biology and capacities, here's a quick (by my standards) primer on each of the Subterraneum's major sentient species. Arranged in no particular order, with names (formal and very informal), basic measures and some elaboration on their looks, anatomy and more esoteric capacities, if any are involved. I will get to elaboration on their nations' actual setups on some other primer in the future, hopefully.

Included is also a quick, but probably necessary introduction on the "magic system" (for lack of better terms) in the Subterraneum, intentionally vague as it may be. The stuff goes deep enough to be biologically important after all.

Anyhow, here goes, hope it helps! And I apologize if any numbers seem ridiculous, which they'll probably be. Feel free to correct me but also physics are a little weird down there.

A NOTE ON AFFINITIES AND AMBIENT ENERGIES: It’s not just creatures that enter the Subterraneum through its various Exits. Ambient energies, background fields and other phenomena have been leaking through the rock for centuries on end, and the ever-present Radiance has blended them together over time into an uneven backdrop of strange, unrelated and even contradictory essences. The residents of the caverns have been affected by these background fields, and have changed to attune to and manipulate them in turn, with varying amounts of success.

The so-called “elemental” energies tend to manifest strongly and directly, by infused terrains and by the various species alike; whether this is part of how the elements work or an interaction (if not direct “preference”) from the Radiance it’s mixed with is unknown. Nevertheless, each of the usual species can often manifest such energies in their own unique ways, and individuals often show shockingly different affinities, even within the same species. Affinities with the Radiance itself vary similarly, though not one species can be said to be untouched by it.

It bears mentioning that the Radiance often interferes with other energies even in the midst of manipulation, adding a dose of unpredictability to the results. Those that can harness this, and tap into the Radiance’s unique metaphysical properties, can reach what is known as one of the ill-understood Sparks: Manipulation of a given element or property that actively, though selectively, breaches specific rules that usually govern it, reaching into metaphysical and sometimes even semantic territory.

Ifchi/Olms

(Singular and Plural are both Ifchi)

Average height: ~1.65 m, with length (including tail) closer to 2.2 m

Average weight: ~75 Kg (including tail)

Description: In truth they’re hardly olms, as most of their traits are closer to axolotls, down to the color variations; it varies on a spectrum, as stories tell of them being two species once that merged together post-arrival with Radiance-granted ease, leaving axolotl traits as dominant - though olm traits have been known to assert themselves in old age. Bipedal, slimy and damp at all times when healthy. They have four-fingered, nail-less hands with little strength, wiry limbs made more for quick movements than strength, and large, paddle-like tails that drag across the ground and let them swim faster than they can run. They have the expected branching frills, growing with age until they sag and droop during older ages; in especially ancient individuals they can even touch the floor. These frills can be a whole spectrum of colors themselves, too, solid but highly variable. The color tends to indicate affinity to ambient fields and energie, for these frills can sense, connect to and work as a focus when manipulating the ambient energies in a given area, Radiant or otherwise. As a result, “spellcasters” are widespread among the species, and their their manipulation of ambient fields oft takes highly recognizable, obvious forms, usually one-off high energy movements that do plenty, but don’t last long.

Ferigozi/Shard Moles

(Singular and plural are both Ferigozi)

Average Height: ~1.4 m

Average Weight: ~70 Kg, mostly (but not entirely) muscle

Description: Stout and bulky creatures on short hindlegs, with powerful forearms and hands bearing oversized claws that can crack solid stone. They have beady eyes and elongated, sensitive snouts that in some strains have extra-sensitive “whiskers” like star-nosed moles do, while others have more proper whiskers running along their snouts. Their eye-sight is lacking even by Subterraneum standards, but they have excellent senses for vibrations in the area, even minor shifts in the breeze. Early in their lifetimes they are almost entirely mole-like, with short, dense and very smooth fur in shades of brown and black; as they age, however, they start developing interlocking chitinous plates like pangolins do, reaching full tesselating coverage around middle-age. Their underbellies always remain furred, however, sometimes necessitating protection. Affinities with ambient energies are limited, and concentrated almost entirely in hands and claws, moving limited amounts of energy with very high precision. Given time and skill, however, Ferigozi can learn to infuse any and all materials with higher concentrations of a chosen ambient energy, with great control over the way they manifest into the material in question; such concentrations can take decades to dilute with a reasonably skilled practitioner.

Bannerbound/Hobgremlins

(Bannerbound works for both singular and plural)

Average height: ~1.7 m, though Bannerbound fluctuations are an exercise on why averages are more useless than you'd think

Average weight: ~70 Kg, with the same warning as above

Description: It’s theorized they started as an abundance of species rather than just one, and that the Subterraneum’s effects merged them into one; with the sheer variance in their forms, this is both likely and near-impossible to actually prove. They are the single most Radiance-susceptible species in the Subterraneum, displaying the changes of excess exposure even during early stages in their lives and going from there even when hardly exposed further. The basic and initial framework would be called humanoid, if the Subterraneum knew humans, ones with glowing eyes all over the spectrum and whose “skin” tends towards single, solid hues; beyond that everything from skin colors and hair to internal anatomy can vary depending on the individual and their affinities. Even things as basic as number and nature of limbs can vary in especially attuned Bannerbound. Their cultural imperative to hide their bodies under multiple layers of garments and secretiveness about their bodies does not help either. This extends into their interaction with ambient energies as well: They are attuned enough to the Radiance that they can infuse specific actions and even creations with the capacity to stretch, and even breach, specific principles and laws. They also have easier access to the Sparks than most other species in the Subterraneum, though their affinities with non-Radiance energies tend to be lower than usual.

Korves/Deep-Crows

(Singular Korve)

Average height: ~2.2 m

Average wingspan: ~4.7 m

Average weight: ~55 Kg

Description: Unquestionable corvids, barely straightened from a theropod stance. Tall, black-feathered and with tough beaks (and necks) that can crack flarewood with a peck. Their eyes are solid in color, often red or yellow, but highly variable in number; anywhere from one to six have been observed, often arranged asymmetrically. By themselves, Korves lack fingers on their wings, with the closest being the dexterous talons they stand on; unusually for the Subterraneum, such growths never came to pass, leaving the limbs only useful for flight and stunning blows. In theory, and in times past, they’ve made do with their legs for tasks requiring fine motor skills, but the species-wide symbiosis with otherwise infectious fungal species in the Valley have given them options: Korves are especially compatible with mycotic infiltration and growths, resisting most harmful effects and taking particular control of the species’ unique structures to the point of commanding its growth and movement. Often inoculated as hatchlings, even the most average Korve can grow finger-like protrusions at the end of their wings that can manipulate objects with a slow, but certain and powerful grip. Other such manipulations have been observed, from carved and immobile growths to whipping tendrils and all in-between, and in rare cases even modification of the symbiote with ambient energies. All this is available to a skilled and willful Korve – so long as their ravenous combined appetite remains sated at all times.

Chelies/Swallows

(Singular Cheli)

Average height: ~1.2 m

Average wingspan: ~2.5 m

Average weight: ~30 Kg

Description: While clearly avians, Chelies are more anthropomorphic (and smaller in all aspects) than the Korves, standing more directly upright. Their wings are thin and thickly-feathered, with flat, claw-like growths on the inside of the wingtip that can grasp like hands would and still fold back into the wing to keep its shape aerodynamic. In addition, they have a similarly bony, though much thicker spur closer to the base of each wing, naturally sharp and often given further edge by the Chelies themselves. Between that, their raptor-like talons and beaks that have lengthened and sharpened with generations, their resemblance to actual swallows nowadays is dubious – though they still retain their red and blue plumage, even thicker and more intensely colorful than ever before. Their need for flight has given them strong, though wiry musculature that grants them speed and agility alike, showing less maneuverability but greater speed than Vezarym in the air. Unlike the Vez – and most Subterraneum species at that – Chelies have excellent eyesight, both close up and at a distance, able to pick out details and movement even in the most spore-choked of caverns. When it comes to ambient energies, they seem entirely unable to affect inorganic materials, or themselves for that matter: Every effect they can induce through their claws and spurs is a “slow burn” applied to other living beings. This is most often applied in their well-known fungal gardens, manipulating otherwise mundane species into something else entirely.

Troxi/Quillskinks

(Singular and plural are both Troxi)

Average height: 1.3 m, with length including tail closer to 2.1 m

Average weight: ~45 kg (including tail)

Description: Skinks is not necessarily the right term, they have too many hints of theropod (and maybe even kobold) in them to truly call them such, but they are reptiles nonetheless. Troxi always have long, whip-like tails that can be shed and regrown, almost always longer than the rest of their bodies, their eyes have invariably slit pupils, and their scales are always in patterns of three different colors. As a norm, their bodies and limbs are toned and slender, with small, yet rough scales. However, this is but a guideline: Variations and mutations – scarce at first, yet reliably transmissible unlike Bannerbound alterations – have made themselves present startlingly quickly, putting the species in biological flux since the establishment of the Republics proper. It’s speculated this is the same process of accelerated “evolution” that affected all previous dwellers, though all projections hint that it’s happening far faster than expected, for unknown and oft-speculated reasons. Whatever the truth may be, Troxi can be seen with different scale patterns and types, spikes along their sides, variable tongues, among many other possibilities. The newest generations even exhibit one uniform change in comparison to their forebears: The emergence of a pattern of colorful feathers along the ridge of their backs, never equal between Troxi yet always present. It’s this newest alteration to the species that’s given them their informal (and sometimes unwanted) nickname.

Shumhaq/Sandhusks

(Singular and plural remain the same)

Average height: ~0.9 m (length including tail is closer to 2.1 m)

Average weight: ~85 kg

Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Shumhaq are closer to arachnids than insects, and closer to scorpions than spiders in that regard; they are the tallest of the Hive members, with the hardest exoskeletons as well. Their framework varies relatively little compared to other Subterraneum species: Six strong, chitinous legs their bulbous, armored abdomens stand on, a scorpion tail that stretches back complete with a sharp stinger, and an upright, armored half with an eighteen-eyed head with grinding chelicerae. Their grasping limbs are “concentric” pincers, with a large, crushing pair surrounding a smaller, more dexterous set of pincers that fit neatly within sockets at the base. Their stingers secrete toxins, with variable but powerful effects that can be affected by the infusion of ambient energies – the only manipulation of such Shumhaq appear capable of – which change how they affect biology and even inanimate materials. Much like other Hive members, they have different castes, but they vary very little in comparison, simply altering their anatomical proportions; mostly, their stingers and their claws tend to be inversely correlated in size. Shumhaq as a whole are, in fact, particularly hardened against any altering and mutating effects, whether Radiance-related or not – it is suspected their genetic sequences and general anatomy have “hardened” in response to such exposure to the point of “burning out” any capacity for further change.

Syhaq/Candlebees

(Singular and plural remain the same)

Average height: ~0.7 m (length is closer to 1.8 m)

Average wingspan: ~2 m

Average weight: ~60 Kg, though often heavier thanks to wax production

Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Syhaq are undoubtedly bee-like in look and physiognomy; they are the shortest of the Hive members, and often the portliest. They all have iridescent wings, fuzzy, stout abdomens striped in black and white, four furred legs to bear their weight, and four-fingered hands at the end of two chitinous limbs, as well as oversized compound eyes with unusual white bioluminiscence. Their antennae are often thick and a foot long at minimum, and the main source of the beeswax Syhaq are known for: They’re used to both secrete the substance in significant amounts, sculpt it as it goes, and even infuse it with varied elemental energies that create different “recipes” with very different properties. This is far from the only place this wax comes from, however; their entire bodies are almost always covered in the stuff, clumping together if not groomed, and in certain overproductive castes they often form stiff “tendrils” (much like planthopper nymphs) that the Syhaq can sculpt to their leisure for different purposes. Another anatomical matter that depends on the caste is the presence of a stinger; not all of them have one, and in those that do its effects can vary from a simple, empty stabbing weapon to an injector of powerful paralytic toxins.

Zivhaq/Flayer Bugs

(Singular and plural remain the same)

Average height: ~1 m (length is closer to 2.7 m)

Average weight: ~45 Kg

Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Zivhaq are the longest, slimmest and most anatomically complicated of the Hive members, most resembling a blend of centipede and praying mantis. Their elongated, wingless abdomens stand upon dozens of long, sharp legs that stop abruptly once the thorax begins – from there, four more limbs sprout, two of which end in four-fingered hands while the uppermost pair ends in sharp, scythe-like extremities that can be tucked almost completely into their bodies. Their faces have flat compound eyes, elongated, flexible chelicerae and long antennae that split apart into multiple shifting protrusions. The entirety of their frame is highly flexible, and Zivhaq have a highly developed kinesthetic sense that gives them excellent control of it. They can squirm through gaps mere inches in diameter, curl themselves up tightly and stretch their own limbs to almost twice their size. This combination is the result of unique adaptations for the sake of disguising themselves as other species: Zivhaq gain their nickname by the capacity to use discarded exoskeletons, pelts and actual skin of other creatures to impersonate them, by crawling and puppeteering such exteriors with their abundant extremities and highly flexible vocal apparatus. Such capacities have naturally pushed them to the fringes from the expected paranoia, making their societies highly secretive. This has made the deeper details of their anatomy, including any ambient energy manipulation, very difficult to publicly discern.

Nirhaq/Longbrook’s Moths

(Singular and plural remain the same)

Average height: ~0.8 m (length is closer to 1.8)

Average wingspan: ~3.5 m

Average weight: ~25 Kg

Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Nirhaq are entirely lepidopteran, closest to moths but still bearing elements of butterflies when it comes to their wings; their anatomies are the most enigmatic of the Hive members, with little study in comparison to the others. Standing upon four fluffy legs, with elongated and thickly-furred abdomens, and six-fingered hands at the end of two fuzzy limbs at their thorax, they tend towards darker colors in both fur and chitin. They have large, compound eyes that shine in the dark with elaborate patterns, curled antennae that twitch and twist, and dexterous proboscii with tiny chelicerae at the end that can slowly snip off solid food. The most intriguing part of their anatomies is their wings: Moth-like or butterfly-like, with the occasional merge of transparencies and opacities between them, they always bear elaborate patterns that shift at the Nirhaq’s will, and have a variety of instinctual displays seemingly kept in their “genetic” memory, which can be expanded further through learning. It is here that their intrigue lies: These Hive members have instinctive access to a variety of supernatural symbology and “languages” that bypass mental filters on perception and directly “tell” the brain to perceive certain things, imposing audiovisual illusions over their forms that are partially at the Nirhaq’s control. This makes them the most secretive of the Hive members, often passing themselves as citizens of other species throughout their lives.

Vezarym/Thrumhorn Bats

(Vezarym works for both singular and plural)

Average height: ~2.4 m

Average wingspan: ~5.5 m

Average weight: ~45 Kg

Description: Tall, slender chiropterans with enormous wingspan and powerful footclaws, graceful in flight and upside-down yet always hunched by the weight of their wings when standing upright. They have arms beneath their wings, an additional pair of limbs with vestigial membranes of their own to aid in steering, and actual (if delicate) hands. Their snouts are closer to fruit bats, though unusual protrusions from their noses are very common, and their needled fangs work on meat and mushroom alike. Their eyesight is decent, but very short, aided by their bioluminescent eyes (usually but not always yellow) when it comes to perceiving what’s right in front of them, but falling off mere meters away. Vezarym have appropriately huge ears with “concentric” growths within that seemingly aid in focusing sound, aiding their pin-point echolocation alongside their powerful lungs and bony throat ridges that serve as both amplifiers and protection. Sitting between their ears are short horns shaped like a lyre, that thrum with sound both emitted and received – this is believed to aid in both echolocation and regular listening, but it’s theorized they are also fundamental in ambient energy perception and manipulation. Said manipulation is always subtle, never forceful, seemingly resonating and either amplifying or dampening a given element (or several) in the area, with stronger effects when working together: Multiple harmonizing Vezarym can completely shift a place’s elemental alignment for however long their ‘song’ lasts.

Toskars/Shard Badgers

(singular Toskar)

Average height: ~1.9 m

Average weight: ~120 Kg

Description: Heavyset creatures, taller than the Ferigozi while keeping similar (initial) musculature. Their tough and unruly fur is always vertically striped, often black and white, though there are some who can have very light cyan and/or deep, dark blue instead. They have somewhat oversized hands and feet on relatively short, though muscular limbs, with tough (though blunt) claws upon all digits. Toskars are not wholly badgers, and even in their early lives they show some seal-like traits like webbing between their fingers and a layer of insulating fat under their hides. With age, their fur grows thicker and tougher still – with time, the fur on their backs starts to harden into chitinous, sharpened quills that bristle when the Toskar feels tense or threatened. More pinniped traits start manifesting more intensely as well, with males and females alike growing further, bulking up and often growing thick, quilly mustaches; some select castes even develop small tusks where their fangs once were as they reach middle age. Their affinities with ambient energies rarely manifest more than a few inches outside of their bodies, with no clear focus organ or limb. Much like the Ferigozi, they can learn to infuse material with such energies, but such infusions rarely last beyond a few hours. However, they find the manipulation and infusion of energies within their own organic material much easier, letting skilled practitioners empower their bodies in unpredictable ways.