Humans



Tomb of Humanity
  • The breeds of humans that came over from Ansalon were predominately from the Eastern Mountains, due to their great knowledge of metal working and mining. Fair skin and dark hair is their typical attributes, though a great many of them show a significant tilt of the eye's epicanthic fold (Oriental). But it is not unusual to find a human of just about any race here on Yathewah.
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  • The survivors of the many tribulations and horrible Times are jaded and cautious. As a whole, the attitude is hopeful, now that Anshar and Kerensky are here; but individually each is scarred with the memories of what their race has endured. Life has little in the way of surprises for these people. Many of them also feel very fearful of the Indigenous Races, feeling trapped by their dependency for the food that they provide.
  • Anyone who has metal working skills or has the capacity for learning them is doing so. Anyone of the building trades are currently helping rebuild the remaining three cities, and also editing the existing buildings to more accommodate the Indigenous Races. Since as a whole they are all much larger and wider at the shoulder than humans, this is a lot of work with no end really in sight.

  • The Average Level of anyone over 13 years is 2nd. The Average Level of anyone over 20 is 3rd. Anyone over 40 could be anywhere up too 6-7th level. Typically some sort of physical class. There are very few formally trained fighter-classes left, besides what Kerensky brought with him. Average sanity level is 13.0de0d953ddfea1f52064809e4f70aa6f.jpg

Irrevocably, the general mind and culture of the survivors has changed. Been scarred, deeply, by its realization of
being trapped here and being forced to survive in a very hostile world. Where we, as humans, are the least of the beings that walk the plane. This bitterness along with lost greatness plus the feeling of being locked in; those that still survive are like forged spring steel. Or so completely broken in the mind that there is no recovery.





Some families, groups, clans, lasted through the dark times better than others. There is a wide range of coping
with what they had to do to survive; from those that drastically embrace their bloody history....












To those that pushed the boundaries of morality, and have recovered an iron strength in enforcing their version of civility upon others; as if to somehow banish the darkness that they once embraced by their own sheer force of martial arms and will, drawing and defending that line of 'Never Again' with even more blood....
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Other families fled the cities, to go deep into the plains lands in hope of surcease among the Three-Finger.... In consequence they tended to learn of their ways and take up some of their skills and careful stonework; while also infecting the giant bovine tribes with bits and pieces of human cultural concepts...














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Some factions went west into the jungles, to brace the land squid and carnivorous plants. Eventually, the remains of these peoples, though more than likely herding help from the Simians, found their way to Orl Klah, a secretive city of the ever silent Simians deep in the confines of the jungle they live in. These select few people have prospered since then, and have occasionally traveled back to the human cities, for trade and companionship. Though their clothes and equipment are decidedly different and outlandish than the norm, they none the less seem eager to socialize.














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Some rare souls have made use of the chaos and gradual carnage to further their own schemes, boosting their power and ability with the suffering of others. Wearing thin that veil between life and death; reaping the benefits and curses of such dalliances...





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A few hundred of the more adventurous have long since signed on to Sir Allen Doe's service, plying their trade as mercenary and warrior, some having fought in almost every War of Dominance to date. Though some would say this is just representational of human interest, none can argue with the altruistic evidence that Doe gives out at every turn. Paid perhaps in blood by these strong few, the common man continues to live.




























And finally there are those that walk hidden in plain sight, nondescript. Grey, common, pleasant, soft where needed, hard where needed. No distinctions, no distractions, of unremarkableness; they make art. They are all around us.tumblr_mnvjnhHalv1ql6bz2o4_1280.jpg