It has been a while since I have posted anything here. There's a reason for that. I've joined deviantart recently and have been posting on there. You can find all my latest works at zamidge.deviantart.com !
--Jake
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
Thursday, 27 June 2013
City of the Mad - Part 1
City of the Mad started off as a writing project for my Writer's Craft course back in my highschool days. Due to the time restraints, I left it as a rather abbreviated version of my original idea. I got near perfect grades for it, but I still thought that I could do so much more with the universe I had created. So here it is. City of the Mad, the full version. I'm still not sure how long it will take to cover, but it will probably take a while to cover the whole story. Thus, I'll leave you with part one for now. I'm a bit excited to press the publish button as I type this, so please excuse me if I've accidentally left any typoes/other errors in. There shouldn't be any, if not, very few.
1
For the first time in ten years, Jorin took a step out of his prison cell. The spell keeping the guards asleep was still in effect. Jorin had collected just enough astral energy over the decade to cast two spells: one to put the guards to sleep, the other to destroy the door to his cell. If he wanted to cast any more spells while indoors, he would have to find his ring. Jorin sighed. He was not even sure if the mage's prison kept or destroyed their prisoners' meteorite rings. He figured that the best place to start looking would be the warden's office, running parallel to his cell. Quietly, Jorin opened the door to the office and peeked in. The warden sat at his desk, but he too, was asleep. This was not due to Jorin's trickery either. The Mundanes have gotten lazy, Jorin said to himself.
The warden kept an organized collection of unique and interesting meteorite rings in a display case in the far corner of his room. Many were simply ordinary meteorite rings with elaborate engravings and polishing, but Jorin could sense immense power from others. The warden was quite the fool to leave such power lying around to be retaken, Jorin thought. After rifling through the display case, Jorin came across a familiar ring. It was his from ten years ago. The curse was undoubtedly still on the ring, and Jorin was unsure of whether he would fall under its influence again. That was, after all, how he ended up in the best defended mage prison to start with. Jorin was faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not to put on his ring. He was but a boy of six when he discovered the cursed ring. Those were the last memories of his childhood spent free. He did not know why he was imprisoned, but he knew it must have partially been due to his ring's curse. It made him lose all control over himself, and it could very well happen again, but Jorin no longer had time to continue debating with himself.
He could hear footsteps getting closer, and soon after the angry voices of guards trying to wake up the sleeping guards outside. Jorin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slipped on his cursed ring. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was as if his entire body was dunked into ice cold water, and every blood cell in his body froze over. Immediately, cruel and violent thoughts gripped his mind, and he had to struggle to control them. His vision started to fade, and he became disoriented momentarily. When he regained control shortly after, he found himself on the floor of the warden's office. Jorin stood up just in time to greet the two guards entering the office.
"Warden, sir, are you oka--" The first guard's face grew white as death when he saw Jorin.
"I'm not sure why I am here, but I'd like to be let go now." Jorin said in as cheerful a tone as he could manage. It was a long shot, but still worth a try.
"I didn't think murderers had a sense of humour." The second guard said, looking at the first guard.
The first guard drew his sword and raised his shield, pointing both at Jorin. "T-the only way you will be sent away from here is in a coffin!" Before the guard could charge at Jorin, his body was torn apart by one of Jorin's spells. Blood now coated the walls of the room and, to Jorin's amazement, the warden was still fast asleep. He couldn't help but laugh. The second guard thought he was laughing at the fact that he just tore a man limb from limb using magic.
"W-warden?" the man whimpered, before turning to flee the room.
Jorin raised the man off his feet. He remained there, magically suspended in the air, trying in vain to stop himself from flipping over midair. The guard was now upside down, and began screaming for help.
"Sorry." Jorin said, before conjuring a sharp bone pillar and impaling the man on it. It was then that Jorin knew he could control himself, having just felt remorse. The ring screamed at him, and Jorin's vision darkened again. When everything was back to normal, the blood was drained from the walls and dead guards, and he felt slightly reinvigorated. Evidently, it would take Jorin some time before he would be able to fully control the ring's compulsions. Jorin sighed deeply, and grabbed the key ring from the still sleeping warden's desk before leaving the office.
Jorin proceeded down the cell block. Many of the cells were empty, but some contained prisoners, quite surprised to see a fellow inmate walking the halls freely. It was the perfect time for an escape, as most of the guards were temporarily sent to garrison the city of Stonewall that very night. The prisoners pounded on their cell doors, begging for their freedom, but Jorin was unsure of how many of these men and women he could trust. Many mages are imprisoned by The Mundanes for little other reason other than the fact that they are mages, but Jorin knew that in order for them to be imprisoned at this particular institution, they must have committed a serious crime. He lowered his head, and left the prisoners to their fates.
At the end of the corridor was an arched entranceway into the main lobby of the building. To the right of Jorin, a girl stood at the door of her cell, staring at him. She looked about the same age as Jorin, perhaps even younger. She had long, blond hair that seemed well groomed for a prisoner. Her sapphire blue eyes were glistening as if she had recently been crying. Jorin cursed under his breath, and turned to face the girl. He felt compelled to help her, perhaps due to the fact he had not seen anyone as pretty as her in a long time, or perhaps because she did not pound at her door and scream at him like the other inmates. She dropped her gaze and scowled when he made eye contact. There was silence for a time.
"Who are you?" Jorin eventually asked. She remained silent for a time.
"You first." she replied, looking back up at him. Her expression was one of sadness, or perhaps of worry.
"I... there isn't much to tell. I was imprisoned here for a long time. I decided I wanted to escape. I don't know much more than that." Jorin told the truth. He was for the most part uncertain of how he came to be here.
"What is your name?" she asked, after yet another long pause. Whoever this girl was, she was adept at tugging at Jorin's emotions. He felt obligated to answer every one of her questions truthfully.
"Jorin." He answered. She scowled once more.
"Family name?" She asked.
"I... I don't know. I don't remember ever having a family."
At this point, the girl started crying spontaneously, as if she was suddenly reminded of something. "You expect me to believe that?" She asked through tears. "Who sent you for me? If it was Godwyn, you can tell him I'd rather stay here." She brushed away her tears to look up and scowl at him again.
"Godwyn? That's a Mundane name. By the stars, why would a Mundane come to rescue you?" Jorin asked sardonically, almost laughing at the unlikelihood of it all. Mundanes and mages virtually never got along.
The girl's scowl turned into a look of surprise, and then back to sadness. She diverted he gaze towards the floor again. "So you really are a mage." She finally said.
"Yeah. Any reason for you to think otherwise?" He asked in response, raising his right hand so she could see his ring. Another look of shock gripped her face. He had forgot about the markings on his hands. They were black demonic runes, seemingly tattooed onto the backs of his hands. Jorin was unsure of how they came to be there.
"I... see." The girl said faintly. Jorin grew eager to divert the conversation away from himself.
"Now it's my turn. Who are you?" Jorin asked her. The question was met with silence. The girl was still looking downward, evidently trying to fight back her tears.
"It doesn't matter, does it? I'll be sent to be executed soon enough." she replied. It was Jorin's turn to be shocked. Mages imprisoned here were seldom executed, instead being kept alive for questionings, research, and torture.
"Executed! How many Mundanes have you killed to get that sentence?" was Jorin's response.
"Nobody. It's... difficult to explain. I'm looking to reclaim something, and the Roy-" she paused.
"Hmm?"
"... And the Mundanes didn't like that." she finished.
"I see." Something about her struck Jorin as odd, but he couldn't shake off the idea of helping her. "Well, I'm leaving. We can talk more once we get out of here."
"We?" she replied. Jorin was too busy fantasizing about running rescuing her that he only then realized his slip of the tongue.
"Err... I'm leaving. You can come with me, if you like." Jorin thought he saw her smile faintly, but her expression quickly changed back to sad.
"I have nowhere left to go. I may as well be here." She said. "And what makes you think I trust you?" She added coldly.
"But they'll execute you. Surely you would rather..." Jorin was having a hard time understanding her, and he began wondering how long it would be before more guards showed up. "Forget it. I'm opening your cell. Follow me, or don't. The choice is yours." Jorin crushed the lock with magic, and turned for the lobby entrance.
"But-" he was gone before she could finish.
1
For the first time in ten years, Jorin took a step out of his prison cell. The spell keeping the guards asleep was still in effect. Jorin had collected just enough astral energy over the decade to cast two spells: one to put the guards to sleep, the other to destroy the door to his cell. If he wanted to cast any more spells while indoors, he would have to find his ring. Jorin sighed. He was not even sure if the mage's prison kept or destroyed their prisoners' meteorite rings. He figured that the best place to start looking would be the warden's office, running parallel to his cell. Quietly, Jorin opened the door to the office and peeked in. The warden sat at his desk, but he too, was asleep. This was not due to Jorin's trickery either. The Mundanes have gotten lazy, Jorin said to himself.
The warden kept an organized collection of unique and interesting meteorite rings in a display case in the far corner of his room. Many were simply ordinary meteorite rings with elaborate engravings and polishing, but Jorin could sense immense power from others. The warden was quite the fool to leave such power lying around to be retaken, Jorin thought. After rifling through the display case, Jorin came across a familiar ring. It was his from ten years ago. The curse was undoubtedly still on the ring, and Jorin was unsure of whether he would fall under its influence again. That was, after all, how he ended up in the best defended mage prison to start with. Jorin was faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not to put on his ring. He was but a boy of six when he discovered the cursed ring. Those were the last memories of his childhood spent free. He did not know why he was imprisoned, but he knew it must have partially been due to his ring's curse. It made him lose all control over himself, and it could very well happen again, but Jorin no longer had time to continue debating with himself.
He could hear footsteps getting closer, and soon after the angry voices of guards trying to wake up the sleeping guards outside. Jorin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slipped on his cursed ring. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was as if his entire body was dunked into ice cold water, and every blood cell in his body froze over. Immediately, cruel and violent thoughts gripped his mind, and he had to struggle to control them. His vision started to fade, and he became disoriented momentarily. When he regained control shortly after, he found himself on the floor of the warden's office. Jorin stood up just in time to greet the two guards entering the office.
"Warden, sir, are you oka--" The first guard's face grew white as death when he saw Jorin.
"I'm not sure why I am here, but I'd like to be let go now." Jorin said in as cheerful a tone as he could manage. It was a long shot, but still worth a try.
"I didn't think murderers had a sense of humour." The second guard said, looking at the first guard.
The first guard drew his sword and raised his shield, pointing both at Jorin. "T-the only way you will be sent away from here is in a coffin!" Before the guard could charge at Jorin, his body was torn apart by one of Jorin's spells. Blood now coated the walls of the room and, to Jorin's amazement, the warden was still fast asleep. He couldn't help but laugh. The second guard thought he was laughing at the fact that he just tore a man limb from limb using magic.
"W-warden?" the man whimpered, before turning to flee the room.
Jorin raised the man off his feet. He remained there, magically suspended in the air, trying in vain to stop himself from flipping over midair. The guard was now upside down, and began screaming for help.
"Sorry." Jorin said, before conjuring a sharp bone pillar and impaling the man on it. It was then that Jorin knew he could control himself, having just felt remorse. The ring screamed at him, and Jorin's vision darkened again. When everything was back to normal, the blood was drained from the walls and dead guards, and he felt slightly reinvigorated. Evidently, it would take Jorin some time before he would be able to fully control the ring's compulsions. Jorin sighed deeply, and grabbed the key ring from the still sleeping warden's desk before leaving the office.
Jorin proceeded down the cell block. Many of the cells were empty, but some contained prisoners, quite surprised to see a fellow inmate walking the halls freely. It was the perfect time for an escape, as most of the guards were temporarily sent to garrison the city of Stonewall that very night. The prisoners pounded on their cell doors, begging for their freedom, but Jorin was unsure of how many of these men and women he could trust. Many mages are imprisoned by The Mundanes for little other reason other than the fact that they are mages, but Jorin knew that in order for them to be imprisoned at this particular institution, they must have committed a serious crime. He lowered his head, and left the prisoners to their fates.
At the end of the corridor was an arched entranceway into the main lobby of the building. To the right of Jorin, a girl stood at the door of her cell, staring at him. She looked about the same age as Jorin, perhaps even younger. She had long, blond hair that seemed well groomed for a prisoner. Her sapphire blue eyes were glistening as if she had recently been crying. Jorin cursed under his breath, and turned to face the girl. He felt compelled to help her, perhaps due to the fact he had not seen anyone as pretty as her in a long time, or perhaps because she did not pound at her door and scream at him like the other inmates. She dropped her gaze and scowled when he made eye contact. There was silence for a time.
"Who are you?" Jorin eventually asked. She remained silent for a time.
"You first." she replied, looking back up at him. Her expression was one of sadness, or perhaps of worry.
"I... there isn't much to tell. I was imprisoned here for a long time. I decided I wanted to escape. I don't know much more than that." Jorin told the truth. He was for the most part uncertain of how he came to be here.
"What is your name?" she asked, after yet another long pause. Whoever this girl was, she was adept at tugging at Jorin's emotions. He felt obligated to answer every one of her questions truthfully.
"Jorin." He answered. She scowled once more.
"Family name?" She asked.
"I... I don't know. I don't remember ever having a family."
At this point, the girl started crying spontaneously, as if she was suddenly reminded of something. "You expect me to believe that?" She asked through tears. "Who sent you for me? If it was Godwyn, you can tell him I'd rather stay here." She brushed away her tears to look up and scowl at him again.
"Godwyn? That's a Mundane name. By the stars, why would a Mundane come to rescue you?" Jorin asked sardonically, almost laughing at the unlikelihood of it all. Mundanes and mages virtually never got along.
The girl's scowl turned into a look of surprise, and then back to sadness. She diverted he gaze towards the floor again. "So you really are a mage." She finally said.
"Yeah. Any reason for you to think otherwise?" He asked in response, raising his right hand so she could see his ring. Another look of shock gripped her face. He had forgot about the markings on his hands. They were black demonic runes, seemingly tattooed onto the backs of his hands. Jorin was unsure of how they came to be there.
"I... see." The girl said faintly. Jorin grew eager to divert the conversation away from himself.
"Now it's my turn. Who are you?" Jorin asked her. The question was met with silence. The girl was still looking downward, evidently trying to fight back her tears.
"It doesn't matter, does it? I'll be sent to be executed soon enough." she replied. It was Jorin's turn to be shocked. Mages imprisoned here were seldom executed, instead being kept alive for questionings, research, and torture.
"Executed! How many Mundanes have you killed to get that sentence?" was Jorin's response.
"Nobody. It's... difficult to explain. I'm looking to reclaim something, and the Roy-" she paused.
"Hmm?"
"... And the Mundanes didn't like that." she finished.
"I see." Something about her struck Jorin as odd, but he couldn't shake off the idea of helping her. "Well, I'm leaving. We can talk more once we get out of here."
"We?" she replied. Jorin was too busy fantasizing about running rescuing her that he only then realized his slip of the tongue.
"Err... I'm leaving. You can come with me, if you like." Jorin thought he saw her smile faintly, but her expression quickly changed back to sad.
"I have nowhere left to go. I may as well be here." She said. "And what makes you think I trust you?" She added coldly.
"But they'll execute you. Surely you would rather..." Jorin was having a hard time understanding her, and he began wondering how long it would be before more guards showed up. "Forget it. I'm opening your cell. Follow me, or don't. The choice is yours." Jorin crushed the lock with magic, and turned for the lobby entrance.
"But-" he was gone before she could finish.
Thursday, 20 June 2013
Character Summary: Gharr
Another race from my "Venture" series. Below is a general overview of the race.
Origin
The Gharr are a reptilian race currently undergoing a costly civil war. Not much recorded history remains regarding their past. They were once an industrious race, rapidly developing new technologies. Many megacorporations rose to power on the Gharr homeworld, Trichus (Note that Trichus is the largest moon orbiting Furax. The Gharr are the only intelligent race in the solar system originating from a moon). These megacorporations would race each other to become the leader in unveiling new technology. Somewhere along the line, this tech race turned into an arms race. Entire armies of mercenaries were hired under certain corporations' banners. Gharr civilians were forced into the companies' problems when the bombs began to fall. A nuclear war between companies was launched, and the near entirety of Trichus became a warzone. The innocent caught in the turmoil were forced to adapt, or succumb and be engulfed by the flames of war. The civil war started nearly one hundred years ago, and little has changed on Trichus since then. It is now the grandchildren of the corporations' CEOs launching the bombs, and the grandchildren of once innocent civilians doing whatever it takes to live another day.
Appearance
Many people who have actually seen a Gharr under their mask say they look much like the lizards of their homeworld. With their masks on, they appear almost as ghosts, solemn and silent. The only way to communicate with one such mask on is via radio (to hear a Gharr talk while under a mask is to merely hear a series of muffled and unintelligible murmurs), so anyone not connected to a Gharr's radio network cannot communicate with one. They move quietly, so as not to draw too much attention to themselves, and often end up as thieves or pickpockets when off-world. Their skin is typically vibrant red or green, and their eyes give off an eerie yellow, green, or red glow through the eyepieces of their masks. They range anywhere from 4 feet to 7 feet tall when fully grown. To make up for their lack of hair, Gharr sometimes acquire facial tattoos, often symbolizing a laudable achievement they have completed in their travels.
A Commoner's Life on Trichus
Trichus' landscape is ravaged by war. The once lush fields are pockmarked by craters, and the previously fertile earth of Trichus is little more than dust and ashes. The former songs of birds in the trees is replaced by the distant sounds of echoing gunfire. If ever before there was an embodiment of what the apocalypse has in store, it would be Trichus. The Gharr as a species are fortunately quick to adapt, becoming exponentially more resistant to the surface's high traces of radiation by the generation. Even so, wearing specially designed masks and suits to deter radiation and toxic fumes often proves efficacious in prolonging a Gharr's life on the surface of Trichus. Thus, from their day of birth, Gharr are given gas masks that are to be worn at all times with very few exceptions. The typical day in the life of a Gharr civilian consists of scavenging the abandoned buildings and city streets for anything of use. If a Gharr spots another they do not recognize, it is considered wise to shoot first and ask questions later. If the unknown Gharr is a mercenary working for one of the megacorporations, there is a good chance they will either kill you for supplies, or force you under the corporation's banner. If the unknown Gharr is also a civilian, chances are that they too will kill you for supplies.
Megacorporations on Trichus
There is no government on Trichus, nor has there ever been. Leadership was provided by those with the most wealth, or, in other words, the heads of the most powerful tech companies on Trichus. The heads of such companies today live far from the luxurious, extravagant lifestyles their ancestors once did, but they are still almost just as influential, and even more corrupt. With money being an irrelevant resource in a full-blown apocalypse, these leaders bargain using their superior resources and firepower, bribing and forcing civilians to work for them to crush their rivals. Many Gharr civilians willingly yet reluctantly go to these corporations, as it is even worse to survive alone on Trichus. There are three major corporations in existence on Trichus today (in order from largest to smallest): Zaxxico, Zalundar Industries, and Glyph.
Origin
The Gharr are a reptilian race currently undergoing a costly civil war. Not much recorded history remains regarding their past. They were once an industrious race, rapidly developing new technologies. Many megacorporations rose to power on the Gharr homeworld, Trichus (Note that Trichus is the largest moon orbiting Furax. The Gharr are the only intelligent race in the solar system originating from a moon). These megacorporations would race each other to become the leader in unveiling new technology. Somewhere along the line, this tech race turned into an arms race. Entire armies of mercenaries were hired under certain corporations' banners. Gharr civilians were forced into the companies' problems when the bombs began to fall. A nuclear war between companies was launched, and the near entirety of Trichus became a warzone. The innocent caught in the turmoil were forced to adapt, or succumb and be engulfed by the flames of war. The civil war started nearly one hundred years ago, and little has changed on Trichus since then. It is now the grandchildren of the corporations' CEOs launching the bombs, and the grandchildren of once innocent civilians doing whatever it takes to live another day.
Appearance
Many people who have actually seen a Gharr under their mask say they look much like the lizards of their homeworld. With their masks on, they appear almost as ghosts, solemn and silent. The only way to communicate with one such mask on is via radio (to hear a Gharr talk while under a mask is to merely hear a series of muffled and unintelligible murmurs), so anyone not connected to a Gharr's radio network cannot communicate with one. They move quietly, so as not to draw too much attention to themselves, and often end up as thieves or pickpockets when off-world. Their skin is typically vibrant red or green, and their eyes give off an eerie yellow, green, or red glow through the eyepieces of their masks. They range anywhere from 4 feet to 7 feet tall when fully grown. To make up for their lack of hair, Gharr sometimes acquire facial tattoos, often symbolizing a laudable achievement they have completed in their travels.
A Commoner's Life on Trichus
Trichus' landscape is ravaged by war. The once lush fields are pockmarked by craters, and the previously fertile earth of Trichus is little more than dust and ashes. The former songs of birds in the trees is replaced by the distant sounds of echoing gunfire. If ever before there was an embodiment of what the apocalypse has in store, it would be Trichus. The Gharr as a species are fortunately quick to adapt, becoming exponentially more resistant to the surface's high traces of radiation by the generation. Even so, wearing specially designed masks and suits to deter radiation and toxic fumes often proves efficacious in prolonging a Gharr's life on the surface of Trichus. Thus, from their day of birth, Gharr are given gas masks that are to be worn at all times with very few exceptions. The typical day in the life of a Gharr civilian consists of scavenging the abandoned buildings and city streets for anything of use. If a Gharr spots another they do not recognize, it is considered wise to shoot first and ask questions later. If the unknown Gharr is a mercenary working for one of the megacorporations, there is a good chance they will either kill you for supplies, or force you under the corporation's banner. If the unknown Gharr is also a civilian, chances are that they too will kill you for supplies.
Megacorporations on Trichus
There is no government on Trichus, nor has there ever been. Leadership was provided by those with the most wealth, or, in other words, the heads of the most powerful tech companies on Trichus. The heads of such companies today live far from the luxurious, extravagant lifestyles their ancestors once did, but they are still almost just as influential, and even more corrupt. With money being an irrelevant resource in a full-blown apocalypse, these leaders bargain using their superior resources and firepower, bribing and forcing civilians to work for them to crush their rivals. Many Gharr civilians willingly yet reluctantly go to these corporations, as it is even worse to survive alone on Trichus. There are three major corporations in existence on Trichus today (in order from largest to smallest): Zaxxico, Zalundar Industries, and Glyph.
Character Summary: Kalu
This is a race of the "Venture" series. Below is a general overview of the race.
Appearance
The Kalu are comparatively smaller than other races, usually not exceeding 6 feet tall, but no less capable than other races. Their eyes are completely red or black, and their skin is usually a grey or black colour. A certain cannibalistic tribe of Kalu known as the "Kashikiri" (A word from an old Kalu dialect meaning "pure") retain the bat-like appearance of their ancestors. Most Kalu have a natural hair colour of black or grey. A popular fashion among Kalu females is to wear feathers in their hair.
Origin
The Kalu are a very cultured and often curious race deeply mired in ancient tradition and politics. Their ancestors resembled feathered bats, known as Kalu'vinn (A phrase from a Kalu dialect meaning "The People Before"). These Kalu'vinn could fly and hunted in hordes, often preying upon weaker Kalu'vinn swarms. Many weaker hordes began hiding in caves and on the surface. Eventually, evolution traded the Kalu'vinn's wings for tools more suited to a life on the surface: arms and longer legs. The fighting between hordes never stopped, however. Kaluva lacks an abundance of species, and the Kalu, traditionally being carnivores, often found themselves consuming the flesh of other Kalu. This practice was abolished by the Vard and remained so after the liberation of Kaluva, but not all Kalu factions approved of this.
Factions
In order to be anything on Kaluva, a Kalu must become a member of a faction. Each faction has very different morals and beliefs, which often leads to conflict amongst Kalu officials. Most Kalu factions have willingly disposed of their violent, cannibalistic past, substituting armed conflicts for political debates, or even strategic war simulations. Either way, the wisest faction typically comes out on top. Despite the successfulness of these nonviolent resolutions the largest and most powerful faction among the Kalu remains the Kashikiri. They do not abide by these peaceful means of negotiation, and have forcefully made their way to the top influentially. Still the traditionalist cannibals that their ancestors were, these Kalu remove their competition from power by force, and no other faction is powerful enough to stop them. Thus, many Kalu factions have little choice but to comply with the Kashikiri when they get involved.
Diplomacy
Despite their poor reputation, the Jincar have made many attempts to resolve their disagreements with the Kalu over the years to little avail. Though the official language of Kaluva is Kalu'shoski (The People's Voice), many different factions choose to speak their own dialects, making communication between Jincar and other factions problematic (with over one hundred factions on Kaluva, it is virtually impossible to learn each and every dialect in use today). A diplomacy effort lead by Jessan Vos, the Jincari Emperor's third son, is currently underway on Kaluva, though very little positive progress has yet been made.
Appearance
The Kalu are comparatively smaller than other races, usually not exceeding 6 feet tall, but no less capable than other races. Their eyes are completely red or black, and their skin is usually a grey or black colour. A certain cannibalistic tribe of Kalu known as the "Kashikiri" (A word from an old Kalu dialect meaning "pure") retain the bat-like appearance of their ancestors. Most Kalu have a natural hair colour of black or grey. A popular fashion among Kalu females is to wear feathers in their hair.
Origin
The Kalu are a very cultured and often curious race deeply mired in ancient tradition and politics. Their ancestors resembled feathered bats, known as Kalu'vinn (A phrase from a Kalu dialect meaning "The People Before"). These Kalu'vinn could fly and hunted in hordes, often preying upon weaker Kalu'vinn swarms. Many weaker hordes began hiding in caves and on the surface. Eventually, evolution traded the Kalu'vinn's wings for tools more suited to a life on the surface: arms and longer legs. The fighting between hordes never stopped, however. Kaluva lacks an abundance of species, and the Kalu, traditionally being carnivores, often found themselves consuming the flesh of other Kalu. This practice was abolished by the Vard and remained so after the liberation of Kaluva, but not all Kalu factions approved of this.
Factions
In order to be anything on Kaluva, a Kalu must become a member of a faction. Each faction has very different morals and beliefs, which often leads to conflict amongst Kalu officials. Most Kalu factions have willingly disposed of their violent, cannibalistic past, substituting armed conflicts for political debates, or even strategic war simulations. Either way, the wisest faction typically comes out on top. Despite the successfulness of these nonviolent resolutions the largest and most powerful faction among the Kalu remains the Kashikiri. They do not abide by these peaceful means of negotiation, and have forcefully made their way to the top influentially. Still the traditionalist cannibals that their ancestors were, these Kalu remove their competition from power by force, and no other faction is powerful enough to stop them. Thus, many Kalu factions have little choice but to comply with the Kashikiri when they get involved.
Diplomacy
Despite their poor reputation, the Jincar have made many attempts to resolve their disagreements with the Kalu over the years to little avail. Though the official language of Kaluva is Kalu'shoski (The People's Voice), many different factions choose to speak their own dialects, making communication between Jincar and other factions problematic (with over one hundred factions on Kaluva, it is virtually impossible to learn each and every dialect in use today). A diplomacy effort lead by Jessan Vos, the Jincari Emperor's third son, is currently underway on Kaluva, though very little positive progress has yet been made.
Setting Summary: Trinnus (Star)
This will be a brief overview of the solar system, Trinnus, the place in which the first story of the "Venture" series will take place.
Trinnus (the ancient Jincari word for "Domain" or "Home") is a large solar system mainly comprised of garden worlds and super-Earths. It is the home solar system of all of its known inhabitants, including the Jincar. The largest planet in the system is Ghasha, a super-Earth, whereas the smallest is Aldi, a dwarf planet orbiting closest to the star. Comparatively speaking, the star is several million years older than Sol, but not much greater in size. It also has a significantly larger "habitable zone" than that of the human solar system. No known race in the solar system is understood to have yet achieved interstellar travel.
Known native intelligent races inhabiting Trinnus are as follows:
- Jincar
- Ca
- Bamori
- Avaari
- Kalu
- Gharr
- Vard (extinct)
Impact Event
A collision of the close-orbiting planets Ghasha and Kaluva has been recently detected by both Kalu and Jincari scientists. The result will be the near-immediate destruction of both planets (and possibly their neighbors) followed by many years of dangerous meteor showers on other inhabited planets. Any large amount of iron from either planet's core coming into contact with the star will also cause severe damage to the star's lifespan. The Jincar and Bamori have been working on large ships capable of interstellar travel to transport most of the solar system's population to another solar system. However, supplies for ship parts are beginning to run scarce on Ghasha, and due to the war between the Jincar and Kalu, most Kalu nations have stopped sending supplies to the construction effort for various reasons. Unless the conflict is soon resolved, the impact event will result in the deaths of many, or perhaps all life in Trinnus. Rumours have been spread that the Avaari are currently working on similar ships to spare themselves and others from the event, but Avaari officials will neither confirm nor deny such rumours.
Other Notes (may be subject to expansion):
- The estimated population of intelligent life in the solar system is about 3.5 trillion.
Trinnus (the ancient Jincari word for "Domain" or "Home") is a large solar system mainly comprised of garden worlds and super-Earths. It is the home solar system of all of its known inhabitants, including the Jincar. The largest planet in the system is Ghasha, a super-Earth, whereas the smallest is Aldi, a dwarf planet orbiting closest to the star. Comparatively speaking, the star is several million years older than Sol, but not much greater in size. It also has a significantly larger "habitable zone" than that of the human solar system. No known race in the solar system is understood to have yet achieved interstellar travel.
Known native intelligent races inhabiting Trinnus are as follows:
- Jincar
- Ca
- Bamori
- Avaari
- Kalu
- Gharr
- Vard (extinct)
Impact Event
A collision of the close-orbiting planets Ghasha and Kaluva has been recently detected by both Kalu and Jincari scientists. The result will be the near-immediate destruction of both planets (and possibly their neighbors) followed by many years of dangerous meteor showers on other inhabited planets. Any large amount of iron from either planet's core coming into contact with the star will also cause severe damage to the star's lifespan. The Jincar and Bamori have been working on large ships capable of interstellar travel to transport most of the solar system's population to another solar system. However, supplies for ship parts are beginning to run scarce on Ghasha, and due to the war between the Jincar and Kalu, most Kalu nations have stopped sending supplies to the construction effort for various reasons. Unless the conflict is soon resolved, the impact event will result in the deaths of many, or perhaps all life in Trinnus. Rumours have been spread that the Avaari are currently working on similar ships to spare themselves and others from the event, but Avaari officials will neither confirm nor deny such rumours.
Other Notes (may be subject to expansion):
- The estimated population of intelligent life in the solar system is about 3.5 trillion.
Thursday, 13 June 2013
The Bandit King Pt. 1 - A Dragon Age Fanfic
This story has been an idea I have been tossing around in my mind for quite some time now. I am very much in love with the Dragon Age universe, and have always had, like so many others, the dream of working in the gaming industry. I combined my passion for both these things to create the story of Kassar, a half-human, half-kossith warrior from a small and remote fishing village in Rivain. In his struggle to find purpose, he is shaped by and will make his mark upon a world deeply immersed in conflict. If you happen across this story in your internet travels, and if you happen to like it, do share it with your friends. It will help me become noticed by... well, somebody (you miss 100% of the shots you don't take, and other five-cent cliches sure to make you groan). With that out of the way, our story begins. Relax and enjoy.
Kassar stood amidst the charred rubble of his home. This sight was of no shock or sadness to him; his home and the village it was in being destroyed one decade ago. It was his choosing to live among the ruins, waiting to be found by the Qunari. Ten years ago, Kassar's home town, a small fishing village in Rivain, was attacked by Tal Vashoth and razed to the ground. This was also the day of Kassar's first kill, despite him being only eight years of age at the time. He remembered clumsily throwing his father's sword, and the dull thud it made as it entered the Tal Vashoth's chest. Both of his parents were killed that night. In fact, he was the only one in the village to survive. One could call it luck, or perhaps the fact that he often went unnoticed. Kassar was a half breed. His mother was Kossith, and his father was Human, a pairing very rarely seen in all parts of Thedas. This always left Kassar as the odd one out amongst the other children, being neither human nor Kossith. Combining this with his disinclination towards social interaction, he was often completely overlooked, despite his unique appearance. Before the night his village was sacked, Kassar was in training to become Karashok - a soldier of the Qun. He received his training sword on his fifth birthday, had used it to duel with other children around his age until three years later. Indeed, Kassar was born a warrior, and fighting was virtually all he knew.
Kassar never left his village after it was destroyed, instead choosing to continue his training. His father's sword was one of the few possessions he had after the raid, and he put it to good use. Kassar would wake up every morning and practice from memory the very blade techniques the Tal Vashoth used to slay his fellow villagers. He mastered them in time, and aimed to use his finesse as proof enough to become Karashok should he ever be found by a Qunari patrol. For ten years he had waited and practised and meditated, until he finally found what he had seeked: purpose.
It was a misty morning, and the gentle ocean breeze swept across Kassar's face. He stood, facing the ocean with the cool wind in his hair as he trained. It wasn't until noon that he spotted three heavy-set silhouettes approaching him on the beach. As they grew nearer Kassar saw that they were Kossith. Kassar initially prepared himself for another attack by Tal Vashoth, but noticed that these figures were different. They walked with a confidence he had not seen in bandits, and were much better equipped than the Tal Vashoth that made their home in the jungle. They grew even closer and Kassar could now see that the men approaching him were Qunari. They wore heavy red leather gloves and the tips of their spears seemed expertly crafted. Their faces and upper torsos were covered in the red war paint of the Ashaad - scouts. The Qunari locked their cold, unflinching gaze upon Kassar as they reached him.
"Shanedan," Kassar greeted them. "I have waited here for-"
"Tal-Vashoth. A lookout, most likely." The apparent leader of the Qunari group said.
"It has not attacked and it has not fled. Why?" Asked another.
"I wish to join the Qun," Kassar said. "I have waited many years for your arrival."
"Parshaara. You are Tal-Vashoth. There is only one way for you to find the Qun." The leader retorted, raising his spear.
"It shows confusion." The third Ashaad said. This was true. Kassar was unsure why the leader of these scouts was showing hostility towards him. He had heard stories of the Qunari and how they would accept anyone who wished to become Viddathari, yet this band of Qunari seemed ready to slay him on the spot.
"I am not Tal-" Kassar was interrupted again before he could explain himself.
"It is a ruse. Vinek kathas." The leader stated.
At that, the three Ashaad readied their spears and attempted to surround Kassar. Instinctively, Kassar drew his sword and immediately pressed the attack. He knew that the moment these three opponents encircled him, he was slain. He swung at the Ashaad nearest him. The scout was unprepared for such a sudden offensive and raised the wooden haft of his spear just in time to catch the blow. Consequently, the spear broke in half. To Kassar's surprise, the scout dropped the broken spear and charged at him with his bare hands, screaming. He had just time enough to raise his sword, impaling the scout. He freed the dying scout from his blade using his foot, and turned to face his two remaining aggressors. The remaining two fell rather easily. The leader of the Ashaad prepared a predictable thrusting strike with his spear. The strike was effortlessly dodged by Kassar, and the leader fell to the sand, his throat cut. The final Ashaad showed his first sign of emotion at that point: shock. This expression quickly subsided and the final scout attacked with even more vigour. After avoiding and parrying a blitz of thrusting strikes from the remaining scout, Kassar sensed an opening and capitalized on it, mortally wounding the scout. The scout lay gasping on the sand for some time, clenching the heavily bleeding wound. Kassar took the scout's spear, and respectfully placed it beside the dying man. The Qunari nodded to him, and the rugged gasping stopped. The shoreline was quiet once more, save the chirping of songbirds and the rolling of the waves, eagerly washing away the ugly crimson stains amidst the sand.
Kassar meditated on the battle and what came before it. The Qunari called him Tal Vashoth, perhaps mistaking Kassar for one of the bandits in the jungle. In truth, Kassar did not know what he was. He was rejected by the Qun, and now had no purpose. The only thing he knew in his life was training and battle. Perhaps, he thought, he was indeed Tal Vashoth. Perhaps the Qunari indeed saw his own lack of purpose and immediately labelled him as the role he most easily fit. After hours of contemplation, Kassar decided it best to prove his theory by seeing if his Tal Vashoth neighbours in the jungle would take him in.
The next morning, Kassar prepared to depart from the ruins of his old home in search of the Tal Vashoth outpost. As he turned to leave, he hesitated, and decided it best to leave his father's sword where it came from. To Kassar, it had become a piece of the ruins, and removing a part from the greater whole seemed inappropriate. Kassar stood in the centre of the ruined village, and plunged the blade deep into the sand. As he looked back at it, the blade glistened radiantly in the sun, a proud monument to all that transpired there the past decade. Kassar couldn't help but feel a sudden pang of sadness. The ruined village and beach were all that he knew, and he understood very well that he might not see neither again.
Kassar stood amidst the charred rubble of his home. This sight was of no shock or sadness to him; his home and the village it was in being destroyed one decade ago. It was his choosing to live among the ruins, waiting to be found by the Qunari. Ten years ago, Kassar's home town, a small fishing village in Rivain, was attacked by Tal Vashoth and razed to the ground. This was also the day of Kassar's first kill, despite him being only eight years of age at the time. He remembered clumsily throwing his father's sword, and the dull thud it made as it entered the Tal Vashoth's chest. Both of his parents were killed that night. In fact, he was the only one in the village to survive. One could call it luck, or perhaps the fact that he often went unnoticed. Kassar was a half breed. His mother was Kossith, and his father was Human, a pairing very rarely seen in all parts of Thedas. This always left Kassar as the odd one out amongst the other children, being neither human nor Kossith. Combining this with his disinclination towards social interaction, he was often completely overlooked, despite his unique appearance. Before the night his village was sacked, Kassar was in training to become Karashok - a soldier of the Qun. He received his training sword on his fifth birthday, had used it to duel with other children around his age until three years later. Indeed, Kassar was born a warrior, and fighting was virtually all he knew.
Kassar never left his village after it was destroyed, instead choosing to continue his training. His father's sword was one of the few possessions he had after the raid, and he put it to good use. Kassar would wake up every morning and practice from memory the very blade techniques the Tal Vashoth used to slay his fellow villagers. He mastered them in time, and aimed to use his finesse as proof enough to become Karashok should he ever be found by a Qunari patrol. For ten years he had waited and practised and meditated, until he finally found what he had seeked: purpose.
It was a misty morning, and the gentle ocean breeze swept across Kassar's face. He stood, facing the ocean with the cool wind in his hair as he trained. It wasn't until noon that he spotted three heavy-set silhouettes approaching him on the beach. As they grew nearer Kassar saw that they were Kossith. Kassar initially prepared himself for another attack by Tal Vashoth, but noticed that these figures were different. They walked with a confidence he had not seen in bandits, and were much better equipped than the Tal Vashoth that made their home in the jungle. They grew even closer and Kassar could now see that the men approaching him were Qunari. They wore heavy red leather gloves and the tips of their spears seemed expertly crafted. Their faces and upper torsos were covered in the red war paint of the Ashaad - scouts. The Qunari locked their cold, unflinching gaze upon Kassar as they reached him.
"Shanedan," Kassar greeted them. "I have waited here for-"
"Tal-Vashoth. A lookout, most likely." The apparent leader of the Qunari group said.
"It has not attacked and it has not fled. Why?" Asked another.
"I wish to join the Qun," Kassar said. "I have waited many years for your arrival."
"Parshaara. You are Tal-Vashoth. There is only one way for you to find the Qun." The leader retorted, raising his spear.
"It shows confusion." The third Ashaad said. This was true. Kassar was unsure why the leader of these scouts was showing hostility towards him. He had heard stories of the Qunari and how they would accept anyone who wished to become Viddathari, yet this band of Qunari seemed ready to slay him on the spot.
"I am not Tal-" Kassar was interrupted again before he could explain himself.
"It is a ruse. Vinek kathas." The leader stated.
At that, the three Ashaad readied their spears and attempted to surround Kassar. Instinctively, Kassar drew his sword and immediately pressed the attack. He knew that the moment these three opponents encircled him, he was slain. He swung at the Ashaad nearest him. The scout was unprepared for such a sudden offensive and raised the wooden haft of his spear just in time to catch the blow. Consequently, the spear broke in half. To Kassar's surprise, the scout dropped the broken spear and charged at him with his bare hands, screaming. He had just time enough to raise his sword, impaling the scout. He freed the dying scout from his blade using his foot, and turned to face his two remaining aggressors. The remaining two fell rather easily. The leader of the Ashaad prepared a predictable thrusting strike with his spear. The strike was effortlessly dodged by Kassar, and the leader fell to the sand, his throat cut. The final Ashaad showed his first sign of emotion at that point: shock. This expression quickly subsided and the final scout attacked with even more vigour. After avoiding and parrying a blitz of thrusting strikes from the remaining scout, Kassar sensed an opening and capitalized on it, mortally wounding the scout. The scout lay gasping on the sand for some time, clenching the heavily bleeding wound. Kassar took the scout's spear, and respectfully placed it beside the dying man. The Qunari nodded to him, and the rugged gasping stopped. The shoreline was quiet once more, save the chirping of songbirds and the rolling of the waves, eagerly washing away the ugly crimson stains amidst the sand.
Kassar meditated on the battle and what came before it. The Qunari called him Tal Vashoth, perhaps mistaking Kassar for one of the bandits in the jungle. In truth, Kassar did not know what he was. He was rejected by the Qun, and now had no purpose. The only thing he knew in his life was training and battle. Perhaps, he thought, he was indeed Tal Vashoth. Perhaps the Qunari indeed saw his own lack of purpose and immediately labelled him as the role he most easily fit. After hours of contemplation, Kassar decided it best to prove his theory by seeing if his Tal Vashoth neighbours in the jungle would take him in.
The next morning, Kassar prepared to depart from the ruins of his old home in search of the Tal Vashoth outpost. As he turned to leave, he hesitated, and decided it best to leave his father's sword where it came from. To Kassar, it had become a piece of the ruins, and removing a part from the greater whole seemed inappropriate. Kassar stood in the centre of the ruined village, and plunged the blade deep into the sand. As he looked back at it, the blade glistened radiantly in the sun, a proud monument to all that transpired there the past decade. Kassar couldn't help but feel a sudden pang of sadness. The ruined village and beach were all that he knew, and he understood very well that he might not see neither again.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Character Summary - Avaari
This is another race from my "Venture" series. Below is a general overview of the race.
Origins
The Avaari are extremely reclusive and little is known about how they came to be. Originating from the extremely cold planet of Atvar, they were the last slave race to the Vard. The Avaari are the only race composed primarily of a gas. They are capable of surviving, even when their body is destroyed. Simply put, the Avaari are gaseous entities who choose to live inside an organic husk. It is suspected that the Avaari were some sort of gaseous parasitic organism in their primal stages of evolution. These parasites would enter the host and feed off of their brain matter. They eventually evolved and dominated a particularly vulnerable race on the planet, entering their neural pathways and influencing their thoughts. When the race reproduced, a new parasite was also born in the child. The two races evolved together over many generations and, somehow, eventually became as one, with the "parasite" completely in control. There is much skepticism regarding this theory, and the Avaari neither confirm nor deny it.
Appearance and Culture
The Avaari, in their physical form, are a two-legged humanoid species capable of surviving in intense cold. Their skin is either navy blue or jet black. Their hair is navy blue or black, and their eyes glow a vibrant blue. They are around the same size, if not a bit taller than a Jincar. Their earlobes are ever so slightly longer than other races, and they appear almost pointed. Culturally, the Avaari are typically a solemn, peaceful race, but will not shy away from a fight if it is absolutely necessary. They are also know for their religious fanaticism. The vast majority of Avaari follow the religion, Atvari Avaarai. Little is known about the religion's finer details, but in short, practitioners worship the force that created the universe, whatever that may be. They also seem to revere dark matter. Avaari only die when the brain matter of their body is completely destroyed, which, depending on the individual, may take anywhere from 90 to 300 years. Some Avaari consume brain matter at a faster rate than others, hence such a broad lifespan range. During the Avaari's final decades in an organic body, they may experience progressively worsening symptoms of dementia, similar to but more severe than senility in other races. This can be fixed through the Avaari discovery of advanced neural implants, and this is the only external sign of aging the Avaari's body will go through until death. When the body dies, the Avaari's essence lives on as a light blue gaseous entity. In this form, an Avaari cannot communicate vocally, or manipulate its physical surroundings by normal means, but still shows awareness and memory of what it once was. They are all but immortal in this form, only capable of being destroyed by combustion of the gas that makes up their being. Lehvahri, or Soulflight, marks the Avaari's departure from its bodily form. Soulflight is named such because shortly after the body dies (anywhere between 1-12 hours), a radiant ball of bright light launches itself out of the Avaari body, before gently dissipating into the air.
Vardic Enslavement
The Vard had a very hard time enslaving the Avaari. The first of the Vard to walk their planet's surface were quickly labelled missing in action. Their frozen and severed heads were found alongside the ship they arrived in weeks later. It wasn't long before the Vard retaliated. Due to the extreme cold of Atvar, the Vard had to wear specially designed insulation suits on the planet's surface. These primitive suits were very thick and clunky, making combat in them nearly impossible. When Vardic land mechs were dropped onto the planet's surface, their hydraulics systems froze almost instantly. Months later, the Vard developed an improved suit, with better insulation capability and less bulk, and the ground assault began. The Avaari still had the advantage, but the Vard, slowly but surely, managed to capture more and more Avaari. They were experimented upon extensively, and it was the Vard who discovered that the Avaari in gaseous state could be used as a form of cheap, long-lasting, and efficient fuel. What they did not know until later was that Avaari in gaseous state still had sentience. When the first Avaari-fueled Vard starships went into space and engaged the Jincari fleet, they were surprised to discover that all of their fuel was suddenly gone. Left floating dead in space with no power, the Jincari fleet decimated the defenseless Vard starships before they could even get their backup power generators online.
Military
Of the 250 million Avaari (excluding gaseous) in existence today, only 100,000 of them are soldiers. These soldiers, however, do not serve any sort of government. Instead, they serve the religious leaders of Atvari Avaarai. These soldiers are very meticulously trained over many years, until they can be defined as "super soldiers". The military is separated into 3 syndicates: Vindicator, Redemption, and Intelligence. The Vindicator Syndicate is the strong arm of the Avaari's military. They are the front line soldiers and vanguards of the Avaari. The Vindicator Syndicate is divided into 2 sub-branches: ground and air. The Redemption Syndicate are the medics and technicians of the military. They must support the Vindicator Syndicate quickly and efficiently under hostile conditions. Lastly, the Intelligence Syndicate is responsible for operations involving stealth and espionage. They are infamous for their ability to enter hostile territory, do their job, and get out long before anyone even realizes they were there. The Intelligence Syndicate is believed to be the most active branch of the Avaari military today.
Intelligence Syndicate on Ghasha
Several files regarding advanced Vardic technology for a spacecraft capable of travelling between solar systems were stolen from a maximum security Jincari research lab 2 years ago. The same day scans picked up the outline of a military-class spacecraft faintly resembling signatures associated with Avaari space vessels leaving Ghasha's orbit. When confronted about it, Avaari officials dismissed the claims as "baseless and insulting accusations". After a Jincar-led investigation of Avaari labs served little more than to anger the Avaari, the case was quickly dropped, and Jincari diplomats made a formal apology to the Avaari.
Religion
The Avaari religion revolves around the universe and whatever force that created it. It is a belief that all walks of life are children of the stars. The Avaari do not know who or what created the universe, but they know that whatever did create it is worthy of worship and preservation. They know that, in time, all materials needed for the birth of stars will be expended, and the birth of new stars will halt. Their goal is to ensure that the cycle of life continues by preserving whatever force that created our universe. This is all that is presently known about the religion to non-Avaari walks of life, though it is made obvious that this is not all there is to their faith. Practitioners of Atvari Avaarai seem to also revere the stars and dark matter. Why they do so, however, remains a mystery.
Telekinetic Abilities
Some Avaari are capable of manipulating physics in certain ways. Vindicators have been known to wipe out battalions of Vard using their mind alone. They use this "gift" sparingly, however, as they claim it drains them of their time spent in physical form. Records attest to this. Avaari Vindicators involved in the liberation of their homeworld used these powers frequently, their physical bodies dying shortly after their mission had been complete. Scientists have been interested in these powers since they were uncovered, but are always turned away by the Avaari.
"This glorious Universe that we live in is larger than any of our minds can ever hope to fathom. Do you truly think that all of it can be put into an equation? That every piece of it fits into the the puzzle that we call science?"
- Khasagar Ivii of the Vindicator Syndicate, upon being asked the nature behind the Vindicator's power.
Appearance and Culture
The Avaari, in their physical form, are a two-legged humanoid species capable of surviving in intense cold. Their skin is either navy blue or jet black. Their hair is navy blue or black, and their eyes glow a vibrant blue. They are around the same size, if not a bit taller than a Jincar. Their earlobes are ever so slightly longer than other races, and they appear almost pointed. Culturally, the Avaari are typically a solemn, peaceful race, but will not shy away from a fight if it is absolutely necessary. They are also know for their religious fanaticism. The vast majority of Avaari follow the religion, Atvari Avaarai. Little is known about the religion's finer details, but in short, practitioners worship the force that created the universe, whatever that may be. They also seem to revere dark matter. Avaari only die when the brain matter of their body is completely destroyed, which, depending on the individual, may take anywhere from 90 to 300 years. Some Avaari consume brain matter at a faster rate than others, hence such a broad lifespan range. During the Avaari's final decades in an organic body, they may experience progressively worsening symptoms of dementia, similar to but more severe than senility in other races. This can be fixed through the Avaari discovery of advanced neural implants, and this is the only external sign of aging the Avaari's body will go through until death. When the body dies, the Avaari's essence lives on as a light blue gaseous entity. In this form, an Avaari cannot communicate vocally, or manipulate its physical surroundings by normal means, but still shows awareness and memory of what it once was. They are all but immortal in this form, only capable of being destroyed by combustion of the gas that makes up their being. Lehvahri, or Soulflight, marks the Avaari's departure from its bodily form. Soulflight is named such because shortly after the body dies (anywhere between 1-12 hours), a radiant ball of bright light launches itself out of the Avaari body, before gently dissipating into the air.
Vardic Enslavement
The Vard had a very hard time enslaving the Avaari. The first of the Vard to walk their planet's surface were quickly labelled missing in action. Their frozen and severed heads were found alongside the ship they arrived in weeks later. It wasn't long before the Vard retaliated. Due to the extreme cold of Atvar, the Vard had to wear specially designed insulation suits on the planet's surface. These primitive suits were very thick and clunky, making combat in them nearly impossible. When Vardic land mechs were dropped onto the planet's surface, their hydraulics systems froze almost instantly. Months later, the Vard developed an improved suit, with better insulation capability and less bulk, and the ground assault began. The Avaari still had the advantage, but the Vard, slowly but surely, managed to capture more and more Avaari. They were experimented upon extensively, and it was the Vard who discovered that the Avaari in gaseous state could be used as a form of cheap, long-lasting, and efficient fuel. What they did not know until later was that Avaari in gaseous state still had sentience. When the first Avaari-fueled Vard starships went into space and engaged the Jincari fleet, they were surprised to discover that all of their fuel was suddenly gone. Left floating dead in space with no power, the Jincari fleet decimated the defenseless Vard starships before they could even get their backup power generators online.
Military
Of the 250 million Avaari (excluding gaseous) in existence today, only 100,000 of them are soldiers. These soldiers, however, do not serve any sort of government. Instead, they serve the religious leaders of Atvari Avaarai. These soldiers are very meticulously trained over many years, until they can be defined as "super soldiers". The military is separated into 3 syndicates: Vindicator, Redemption, and Intelligence. The Vindicator Syndicate is the strong arm of the Avaari's military. They are the front line soldiers and vanguards of the Avaari. The Vindicator Syndicate is divided into 2 sub-branches: ground and air. The Redemption Syndicate are the medics and technicians of the military. They must support the Vindicator Syndicate quickly and efficiently under hostile conditions. Lastly, the Intelligence Syndicate is responsible for operations involving stealth and espionage. They are infamous for their ability to enter hostile territory, do their job, and get out long before anyone even realizes they were there. The Intelligence Syndicate is believed to be the most active branch of the Avaari military today.
Intelligence Syndicate on Ghasha
Several files regarding advanced Vardic technology for a spacecraft capable of travelling between solar systems were stolen from a maximum security Jincari research lab 2 years ago. The same day scans picked up the outline of a military-class spacecraft faintly resembling signatures associated with Avaari space vessels leaving Ghasha's orbit. When confronted about it, Avaari officials dismissed the claims as "baseless and insulting accusations". After a Jincar-led investigation of Avaari labs served little more than to anger the Avaari, the case was quickly dropped, and Jincari diplomats made a formal apology to the Avaari.
Religion
The Avaari religion revolves around the universe and whatever force that created it. It is a belief that all walks of life are children of the stars. The Avaari do not know who or what created the universe, but they know that whatever did create it is worthy of worship and preservation. They know that, in time, all materials needed for the birth of stars will be expended, and the birth of new stars will halt. Their goal is to ensure that the cycle of life continues by preserving whatever force that created our universe. This is all that is presently known about the religion to non-Avaari walks of life, though it is made obvious that this is not all there is to their faith. Practitioners of Atvari Avaarai seem to also revere the stars and dark matter. Why they do so, however, remains a mystery.
Telekinetic Abilities
Some Avaari are capable of manipulating physics in certain ways. Vindicators have been known to wipe out battalions of Vard using their mind alone. They use this "gift" sparingly, however, as they claim it drains them of their time spent in physical form. Records attest to this. Avaari Vindicators involved in the liberation of their homeworld used these powers frequently, their physical bodies dying shortly after their mission had been complete. Scientists have been interested in these powers since they were uncovered, but are always turned away by the Avaari.
"This glorious Universe that we live in is larger than any of our minds can ever hope to fathom. Do you truly think that all of it can be put into an equation? That every piece of it fits into the the puzzle that we call science?"
- Khasagar Ivii of the Vindicator Syndicate, upon being asked the nature behind the Vindicator's power.
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