#malabarwb

The technology level of humanity is a little hard to place on the traditional Western scale of progress. A first glance gives the impression of a modern world, but further investigation finds some areas far more advanced, and others perplexingly lacking. Much of the disparity can be traced to two major factors: cheap and easy power production that is far in excess of what is needed, and a lack of interest in spaceflight. The former means that virtually everything runs on electricity, even when inefficient. The latter means that some of the inventions we commonly think of as modern, such as GPS and satellite weather forecasting, simply don’t exist.

Perhaps the quickest way to notice differences is to look at the human transportation network. Cars and similar vehicles are virtually nonexistent outside of remote areas or short-range freight, replaced with bicycles, both manual and motorized with electric engines. Larger cities install subways and their above-ground counterparts for mass transportation. Longer distances are usually traversed by an impressive network of trains, but in the decades following the imperial war, a booming helicopter airline industry has sprung up. The airplane as Earth knows it was never invented here, as the helicopter’s design, while less efficient (not a problem with a power surplus) and with a smaller maximum range (also not a problem since all of known civilization is confined to a single continent), its maneuverability is a great boon in both combat and minimizing the space needed for takeoffs and landings. Though freight is typically transported via train, then locally by truck, smaller packages and letters often get lost in the shuffle of large freight, leading to a proliferation of courier agencies, typically manned by bicyclists, but occasionally employing chira to fly rush jobs.

As on Earth, computing power and data storage have completely outpaced transmission bandwidth and range. Though there is an internet-like system in place, wireless technology has not yet been developed for use with computers, instead relying on a direct hardline into the network. Most users hook their computers in at public terminals, essentially internet cafes, though the particularly rich often have their own private line. Though this increases maintenance costs and places a physical limit on bandwidth, the signal travel time isn’t bad by today’s standards, helped by the fact that most messages need only travel about half the length of the continent at most, as opposed to the global range of Earth’s internet. Popular uses include chat programs, information lookup, entertainment shows, and surprisingly complex and prolific online gaming.

The computers themselves are, aside from dedicated servers and other powerful machines, designed to be easily portable. The most popular model utilizes a segmented and flexible design to allow it to roll up for transporting, or to unfold flat for use as a tablet-like device using the inner touch-screen surface. The accompanying cylindrical power generator also provides ports for peripherals and internet, as well as contains the primary memory storage. Raw power and sheer storage space per square inch are well beyond where they are on Earth, but programming inefficiencies and the general limitations of the small space to build it all in limits the effective power of their computers.

Despite all this, the old imperial tech that made the thean possible has been largely lost to time, in no small part due to the extreme secrecy about their manufacture methods, not wanting the process to get into enemy hands, both corporate and national. The tech that went into making their bodies, however, survived the war, largely because of the war itself.

As it turns out, the techniques used in the creation of thean bodies also proved a miraculous blessing for the prosthetics industry. Now armed (lol) with the capability to produce lifelike limbs with integrated and sophisticated touch sensors and wired to respond to signals coming from an essentially human brain, all that was left for them was to figure out a power supply, a method of attachment, and a version for kilinik. With gravely wounded soldiers returning every day from the warfront, the demand was never higher. Today, they have only grown in precision and complexity, perfectly replicating the range of motion, strength, and dexterity of the replaced limb. Even visually, they are virtually indistinguishable from the original… except when purposefully modified for aesthetic reasons, or designed with superhuman capabilities in mind. One major design hurdle that took some time to overcome was the problem of keeping the device cool with a full pseudo-skin covering, and the inclusion of more powerful motors, for example, pushes heat generation past the point that the inbuilt systems can handle, requiring that at least some of the internal workings of the device be exposed to air.

The technology of the sang, in contrast, exploits their knack for fine mechanics and compensates for their lack of access to easy power. All vehicles are either driven by muscle power or a combustion engine, rendered as efficient as possible through mechanical advantage and expertly machined parts. The electronic computer hasn’t been invented (but has been stolen several times), but for most utility tasks, their mechanical calculators can keep up with their needs.

Taven technology defies much explanation, but performs many of the same tasks as their human and sang counterparts. Heavily reliant on input from an empowered for its creation, the typical taven device is best described as working because there is no alternative for it but to work. Though most famous for their warriors’ cybernetic modifications, the vast majority of the taven technological effort has been towards improvements in communication and entertainment.

Gunpowder was known to both humanity and sang long before either had contacted each other, developed independently. By the time the imperial wars broke out, handheld firearms were already widespread, though larger weapons were mostly unheard of. Anything too big or nasty to be taken out by a gun was usually easily destroyed by a small group of empowered. As for enemy empowered, they were still human (or kilinik, or sang, or whatever) and often lightly armored to keep their maneuverability high. Unless they were organic-aligned and specifically having enhanced healing, there were scant few who could recover from a bullet to the head… or a few hundred to the center of mass. Most empowered are something of glass cannons in this way: capable of dishing out a lot of pain, but usually not able to take much themselves. Obviously individual power sets play into this a lot.

Everyone’s packing heat, whether it’s a gun or literal fire. Actual firefights happen rarely, but that’s likely more of a cultural thing than anything else. When you’ve been living in a society where that random gal you just tried to rob sometimes turns out to have the power to crush your head like a grape with her mind, you tend to not pick fights, especially if this is the way things have been for the last couple of millennia. Unfortunately, when violence does break out, its usually far, far more severe in terms of property damage and loss of life, and that’s not just when empowered suddenly snap.

The imperial wars brought true mechanized warfare to the forefront, though. Massive artillery canons, armor-plated tanks, and heavily armed helicopters became the norm for both human and sang militaries as they ground against each other. Humanity had the advantage of digital computers and long-lasting electrical engines on their side, while the sang armaments tended to be all around better designed and easier to produce.

As the war waged on, humanity was feeling the strain of its rapid expansion. Past a certain point, there simply weren’t enough able bodies to fill the needs of both the war effort and the lands they had captured. Doctors, especially, were badly needed, but to properly train up new ones would take years. Well, if they couldn’t get enough people, they would just have to make more, wouldn’t they? And, hey, we’re really good with electronics, and the brain runs on electricity, hell, let’s make robots!

The body was actually the hardest part. The inventors insisted that it match a human’s as closely as possible, mainly for synergy with the mind they were going to put in, but also because these things were going to be doing jobs where a friendly and reassuring smile would go a long way. Nursing, security, the service industry, package couriers… they were really hard up for labor. The end result was actually shockingly human, having miraculously blown clear past the uncanny valley to the point that they were outwardly indistinguishable… until they decided this was a little freaky and gave them all silvery skin. It looked like shitty costume makeup, but at least they could tell them apart now.

The mind was really what saved them from the uncanny valley, though. It wasn’t a perfect process, but, essentially, a human brain was carefully analyzed, and the structure copied as a blueprint for a thousand electronic minds. Unfortunately, said analyzing required freezing said brain in liquid nitrogen, then shaving off micron-thin slices one by one for examination. Obviously no one could survive the process, and volunteers were few and far between. Further, much to everyone’s dismay, memory was not transferred in the process. The most they could get across was personality, but even that was imperfect, and evolved as new memories were gained. Still, they learned rapidly, and could be mass-produced fairly easily. They were the perfect labor force. The thean had been created.

At first they remained off the battle lines. Mass-produced or not, they were still very expensive pieces of very not-bulletproof machinery. And technically human beings, which was why they weren’t so much as assigned to jobs as they were asked to pick from a list. Certain versions tended to have preferences, though, allowing them to be able to produce what they needed the most of. For example, the Elusive Colony line (it sounds more poetic in the native Queta), generated from an unknown but very wealthy donor, almost always entered medicine.

Eventually, though, more field nurses were needed, and the thean entered the battlefield for the first time, albeit as non-combatants. As the war continued, with more and more lives being lost and thean production getting faster and cheaper by the day, it became obvious that they were best used to at least supplement their fighting force… later they replaced it entirely save for the commanding generals. Towards the very end of it all, they were in such high demand that there were hundreds of factories cranking them out, and many of them were entirely staffed by then themselves. Once news of this hit the airwaves, there was a mass panic. An extremist group, against this whole artificial human business from the start, managed to sneak into the central power control server for the capitol and the surrounding cities. Their hope was to plant a bomb that would, at least temporarily, knock out power and control to the various thean factories located in the area, which would allow their fellows to storm in and wipe out these damn robots at the source. This bomb would spell the end of the human empire, as well as plunge the western part of the continent into the void.

Taven weaponry, however, takes a very… different approach. Dreamed up only in the few years prior to the launch of the taven war, overwhelming power was their goal, and did they ever achieve it. Though they don’t employ handheld weaponry, their foot soldiers, drawing upon both the natural taven strength and their cybernetic enhancements, are more than capable of taking out an entire platoon of enemy infantry before finally succumbing to either an empowered attack or heavy artillery. Their body armor, far heavier than most beings could lift, much less perform combat maneuvers in, easily shrugs off most projectiles.

Lending them support are a variety of not quite mechanical machines. Cobbled together from whatever scrap metal they can find, they are given a perverse sort of life by quantum-aligned empowered, their very nature programmed into reality. A chunk of the void resides inside them, an infinite engine made of the very thing that drove them to this fury. Their onboard weaponry varies greatly, but tends towards the unconventional and reality warping side. The more sensory overload and abject terror it causes, the better. Combine these alien monstrosities with a few thousand heavily armored, forty-foot long warriors, interspersed with the mutilated and brainwashed victims of the previous battles, and it becomes clear that the taven were aiming for psychological warfare as much as they were physical.

Beyond this, human or sang-designed guns have made their way into the hands of most of the other cultures of the continent, with preference largely depending on the ease of operation given the varying hand structures of the sapient species. Yaan in particular have taken up human arms in addition to their traditional knives, bows, and slingshots, enjoying their power and accuracy but bemoaning their loudness and need for specialized ammunition. Kigaya, on the other hand, typically use weapons of sang manufacture. Chira stick to one-handed pistols of sang manufacture where they can get them, but otherwise prove surprisingly deadly with their native assortment of whips, flails, and pole arms.

Akass will usually rely on their massive physical strength for combat and hunting, preferring to trap their bounty rather than incapacitate it with projectiles. Any interpersonal conflict too serious to brush off is typically resolved in a bloodless wrestling match.

The races of the northern continent were first introduced to humanity following their exodus from their destroyed homeland to the south. The refugees that managed to escape headed north, over the treacherous mountains of the Isthmus of Panama, and through sang-controlled land. They were given no trouble by the strange species, and even helped along until they reached their borders along the edges of the Rocky Mountains, where they eventually formed their first large permanent settlement. Within a generation, they had laid claim to a decent sized area of land and had gotten their government and infrastructure back to pre-disaster levels. As the decades rolled by, they expanded ever outwards, first peacefully, snapping up land no one else particularly cared about, making moves to assimilate the chira to the north and the yaan to the west, annexing sang land to the east. Eventually, the sang, the largest and most technologically advanced power on the continent for hundreds of years, pushed back.

What started as a few skirmishes over land eventually turned into all-out war, and everybody felt it. The chira were fractured between those that lived with the humans and those that refused. The yaan found themselves pushed all the way to the western coast as oil was found on the other side of the Rockies. The sang discovered the hard way that the military might of humanity was not to be taken lightly, and their kingdom was bisected as the human forces broke through their center and began colonizing the eastern coast of the continent, pushing the akass who lived there to the islands of the gulf. Those sang that now found themselves cut off from the capitol to the south eventually made their way up north into kigaya territories. And still the humans fought, as what had started out as a way to acquire the resources for their growing population and industry had now, over the generations and elections, had mutated into an all-out conquering force, hell-bent on making sure those aggressive non-humans didn’t try taking their land.

Eventually, though, they broke. Stretched thin from the massive amounts of territory they had laid claim to and from the bloody stalemate with the sang on their northern and southern borders, the empire finally collapsed in on itself. First, the eastern colonies broke away, forming their own nation. Then panic erupted when it was discovered that their robotic fighting force (which had started out as a way to replace the labor lost from sending the able-bodied away to war, before being conscripted themselves when they ran out of able-bodied) was now being produced entirely by more of the same robots. A bomb was planted in the citadel, home to the servers and controls that kept the factories running, believed to now be entirely staffed by robots. The bomb went off… and the cascading power failures took out most of the cities still on the citadel’s grid as their generators exploded. Most notably, much of the land west of the Rockies warped, and eventually fell entirely to the void past the old coastline. It’s a small miracle the yaan survived, and, in fact, still flourish in these fringes of reality, but the taven who lived further north, and had by and large been unaware of the warfare elsewere, suddenly found their homeland rendered uninhabitable. They headed west, into the lands many of the chira had been pushed into. The chira were now pushed west themselves. The kigaya, between dealing with the incoming chira and the sang refugees, found their country fractured into three, with one fragment becoming the joint kigaya-sang fellowship known as Caltrek. Really, the only people who got out of this whole clusterfuck unscathed were the noya, and they had no idea any of this was happening. Hell, most of the other races didn’t even know they existed at the time.

As the human empire collapsed and shattered into thousands of warring city-states, the eastern colonies, calling themselves Malabar, seemed to be holding strong. Then, about a hundred and fifty years later, civil war erupted, splitting the north from the south and, eventually, the independent nation of Oben off from the south. In the hundred years or so since, everyone’s been patching up the best they can, and they’re all in something of an uneasy truce. In fact this is the case for much of the continent in general, with each nation too focused on patching up its own problems, many of them caused by the war, to care much about the others. The only exception lay with the taven.

In the nearly three centuries since they had been forced from their home, they had tried to make the best of their new situation and trying to accept the fact that they were never going to return. Though things seemed to be going well, resentment simmered in their unconscious. All it took was the appearance of a new, charismatic leader, Onei, to bring these thoughts to the forefront. Though he could not promise to return them to their homeland and great cities, he could certainly promise them revenge. Under his leadership, they would sweep across the continent, punishing the remnants of the empire that had so wronged them and, in the process, unifying the place into one, harmonious whole to prevent such a terrible war from happening again. But they couldn’t do it as they were. They hadn’t truly fought a foe in centuries, and they needed to step up their technology if they intended to not just compete with the sang and humanity, but completely overwhelm them. The first step was to improve their ground troops, which they did by extensively outfitting them with cybernetics. Organs which could so easily fail were replaced by efficient, indestructible synthetic counterparts. Senses were enhanced, and eventually overwritten by electronic receptors. All soldiers were wired directly into central command to better improve communication. Their lower jaws were removed in symbolic ritual, the ultimate sign of dedication to the cause. It was seen as a noble sacrifice, a way to finally and effectively make a strike back at the enemy. They went into conversion fully expecting to fall on the battlefield, but not before taking a few thousand humans, kilinik, and sang each with them. They were to be the warrior spirit, the embodiment of their race’s collective burning hatred and indignation at those who would dare take away that which was most precious to them.

Its debatable whether the brainwashing started here or when Onei began forcibly converting the rest of the population. There was no way they were going to win without everyone making an effort, and what better way to ensure that than by convincing them of it. And so, in the span of merely five years, the entire taven population was under Onei’s direct control, and he had his eyes set on Valen.

The taven war hit the continent like a bolt of lightning. A veritable tidal wave of taven supersoldiers and their war machines flooded south and into Valen, annihilating any resistance they came across. As they marched, the towns and cities behind the front lines had their remaining citizens undergo the same conversion process, and were quickly subjugated under Onei’s will. Some remained behind to maintain supply lines and other infrastructure, but many were conscripted into the fight, shoring up any losses they may have sustained in the capture of the settlement in the first place. As the years rolled on, the taven line pushed ever outward, only slowed, never stopped, by the combined might of the Caltrek and Valen militaries, later joined by the Malabars and Oben once things started looking really grim.

And then, as quickly as it had all started, the thralls suddenly retreated. A civil war had broken out amongst the highest officials in Onei’s empire, and some taven had managed to use the chaos to shake their mental shackles long enough to finally take him out. The system is in complete uproar. Some commit suicide on the spot, others go on crazed rampages, slaughtering their fellows by the hundreds. The war effort now turns to rescuing and rehabilitating as many of their people as they can. To this day, one can still find humans, taven, kilinik, sang, kigaya, noya, and chira with their jaws removed, still running on eternal life support.

Ironically, Onei’s war actually accomplished one of his goals. Following the devastating war, what had initially been an uneasy truce eventually became full-fledged peace as everyone realized that they could not take another terrible conflict like this. The taven were in absolute shambles as they tried to rebuild their civilization a second time. The chira had taken massive losses as scout thralls under Onei’s control, and the noya weren’t much better off. Valen looked like the aftermath of an apocalypse. The eastern human nations, particularly Northern Malabar, had taken a beating, as well as Caltrek and the kigaya nations of Eten and Jaris. The southern sang kingdoms had had the war come to their doorstep, and were in the process of defending their borders when it all ended. No one could think about attacking one another, much less had the energy and resources to do so. And so, for the first time since humanity made its way to the north, the continent experienced universal peace.

It wasn’t to last.

No formal war broke out, but had events not transpired like they had, it almost certainly would have. Northern Malabar, nervously eyeing their neighbor to the south, began development of a bioweapon. They had no intention of using it, mind you, it was just something to have in case things got out of hand, of course. Well… things got out of hand. One of the resarchers on the project was contacted by a biogenetics company in Oben, offering an exuberant reward and better job security in return for the incomplete bioweapon. He agreed, intending to smuggle a sample out of the country. He was caught trying to leave the city where he had been stationed, and was threatened at gunpoint to come into custody. In a spiteful act that could have easily doomed the entire world, he instead shattered the vial on the concrete floor of the crowded train station he’d been cornered in. Thousands died that day… but something else was born in that moment. Some incredible miracle happened, some chance interaction between the weapon and a waking victim, and a new form of life was created amongst the corpses in that station: a seeming impossibility, an empowered virus that completely hijacked cells it infected, transforming them into a highly mutable, virtually indestructible, and incredibly strong semi-liquid slurry. Infiltrating every nook and cranny of its dying human host, it replicated his form flawlessly. Most shockingly, it was intelligent, having copied his neural structure as well. The first construct had been created, impossibly strong, incredibly fast, and whose diet consisted only of living organisms, absorbed whole and screaming.

This, however, was not an immediate disaster. The First was, ultimately, not interested in creating more of his kind. Unfortunately, samples got out, spread around for research, and many of the subsequent constructs created had different ideas. Though they were often quickly routed by The First and those sympathetic to his cause, they invariably managed to make at least a dozen or so more constructs before they were taken out, each with the potential to cause more havoc. For the moment, however, this wasn’t the biggest problem on the horizon.

The void on the western coast was beginning to move rapidly inward, and the south was experiencing the same. If the movement continued at a steady pace, it would be a century before the continent was subsumed, but if it was exponential… they had barely a decade to find a way to reverse the damage. It seemed like an impossible task. How does one go about repairing reality itself? Especially when they had no idea what was causing the breach in the first place. Blame got passed around quickly, reasonable or otherwise, and old prejudices reignited. Humans were one prime target, but the taven and yaan also came under fire. The hyper-efficient power generation of humanity was also blamed, as were empowered individuals. The latter eventually led to outright riots in Oben as one local governor rose to prominence on an anti-empowered platform, promising to utilize their extensive genetic research to eliminate the problem completely.

Eventually, a solution was finally devised by a joint taven-human effort as the yaan fled over the Rockies, the void nipping at their heels. It would require an incredible amount of power to deploy, more than they could currently generate, but, in theory, the device they had created would essentially snap reality back into shape, like flicking out a crumpled blanket. An unusually powerful and semi-famous human empowered was contacted to provide the energy for the machine. They made a big show and ceremony about it and everything, broadcast it across the continent. Yes, humanity probably had a hand in the current situation, but they were going to fix it, permanently, just you see. Here, see the human hero make the future secure for all races!

It solved the problem, partially. Good news: it instantly repaired the world. Bad news: it just as instantly took every last empowered out with it, even those that hadn’t awakened yet. Millions dropped dead that day. Due to the nature of the genes responsible, the empowered would eventually reemerge, but this was small comfort at the time. Nearly everybody had lost someone, or at least knew someone who had.

The constructs, however, were absolutely fine, and now found themselves unchallenged by people with superpowers. This was all the excuse a few of them needed to attempt the total conversion of the human race. After all, they were pretty much better in every way compared to baseline humans, they were doing them a favor, really.

Still reeling from having their population literally decimated, and now faced with a steadily growing population of practically invulnerable beings hell-bent on making more of themselves out of their people, the humans were rightly terrified, and rapidly searched for a solution. The other races begrudgingly helped, not particularly sad to see the humans go after the long string of disasters they’d left in their wake, but also not wanting to have to deal with the constructs, who were likely going to be much like their hosts, only worse. After many potential solutions either failed or backfired spectacularly, one final, last-ditch answer was proposed: why don’t we just take all the constructs, and push them somewhere else?

A Note: Proper nouns, such as the names of the non-human races, come from Glican, pretty much the primary language of the continent. It doesn’t code for number on the noun itself, but instead with specific suffixes. For example: noya (root noun) noyan (a singular noya) noyakay (exactly two noya) noyakus (a small group of noya) noyakun (a large group of noya) noyateka (most noya) noyatesan (some noya) noyasenlat (literally all the noya that currently exist) noyasenkay (all the noya in the immediate area) noyasenchay (all the noya in another, specific place), etc. More suffixes get added for case. Needless to say, this gets right confusing when translating to English, so for our sake, its one noya, two noya, billions of noya.

Another Note: Species names aren’t capitalized, for consistency with “human.”

A Third Note: Due to the nature of human civilization being a two-species union, “humanity” in this world refers to humans and kilinik as a whole, whereas the noun “human-kind” is used to refer specifically to the human component.

Noya: The smallest of the races of Malabar, the noya hail from the frozen tundras and ice floes of the north, a land they have claimed as their own for untold generations. Clad in a thick coat of fur and commonly aligned with the thermal element, they are well adapted to this unforgiving home. They are bipedal, with long, powerful legs and surprisingly human-like arms, allowing them easy use of tools. Omnivorous in diet, their strong beak and enlarged canines can process most foods. Thanks to the long periods of darkness common that far north, they have evolved large eyes and ears, and possess both incredible night vision and excellent hearing. Though they stand a mere two feet in height (not counting the ears), their high metabolism, nimble gait, and aggressive culture make them unexpectedly formidable opponents at close range. The majority of the noya population resides in the untamed north of the continent as an array of fairly large tribes, many of which are nomadic. However, a notable amount have found their way south, primarily into Caltrek, where they have been mostly accepted into society, though as essentially second-class citizens. The increased heat of the southern half of the continent, the difficulty they find in speaking Glican and other human languages, and the fact that most structures are designed with much larger beings in mind have all kept them from venturing much farther, though encountering a partially shaved noya as far south as the gulf is not unheard of. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the thermal element, an excellent tool for helping endure the cold, or to keep cool in warmer climates.

Human: Essentially the same as their Earth counterparts, the humans of Malabar reached the Americas not by the Bering Strait, but instead via the Pacific ocean, navigating across the vast sea to land along South America’s western coast. It is here in the Andes that they rapidly built a thriving and quite advanced civilization, and some historians claim it stretched across the entire continent at its peak. It is also in this land that they encountered the kilinik, and they eventually formed a tight, unbreakable bond with each other, utilizing their combined talents to forge their empire. Even to this day, it is impossible to find a purely human or purely kilinik settlement, and it is far more accurate to consider both species as a single civilization rather than to analyze them separately. Essentially all technology and architecture produced by their combined efforts is designed for use by both species. By and large, there is no humanity without the kilinik, and there are no kilinik without humanity. Unfortunately, this union of the species was put to the test by a sudden and catastrophic disaster of unknown origin that rendered the entire southern continent completely uninhabitable, bringing the civilization to its knees. Refugees headed north, and eventually colonized the northern continent, forming a massive empire that stretched from east to west coast, as far north as the great lakes and as far south as the Yucatan peninsula. Today, that empire is long gone, but its remnants are seen across the continent. To the east are the nations of Northern and Southern Malabar along the eastern coast, as well as Oben along the gulf. The center of the continent is technically dominated by the country of Valen, though it barely counts as a unified entity, instead better described as a loose coalition of city-states. In addition, humans are still prevalent in the Unbound Wilds in the west, though no formal government and few permanent settlements exist. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the electromagnetic element, no doubt one of the keys to their rapid technological advancement.

Yaan: The yaan appear incredibly dog-like because, well, they’re pretty much dogs. Hairless, blind, echolocating cave-dogs with grasping hands and the ability to stand upright, but dogs nonetheless. Of all of the species on the continent, they are the most closely related to something seen on Earth, with their point of departure from the “standard tree of life” a mere 15 million years ago. Most notably, however, is the fact that the majority of their population resides in the wastes west of the Rocky Mountains, a desolate and dangerous place on the shores of the void, and they have no intention of going anywhere else, at least not en masse. Despite the calamity that has befallen their homeland, they feel they belong nowhere else. Their relative immunity to the effects of the various space-time anomalies that plague the land helps the feeling somewhat. They generally believe that their survival was a divine act, and that they’re meant to be there, though whether that’s as caretakers or conquerors depends on the tribe. Thanks to their extensive contact with the human empire, followed by even more with various scavengers coming to salvage what they can of the old cities, they have a surprisingly high level of technology at their disposal, from radio to rifles, despite living in a mixture of burrows and wooden huts. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the space-time element, likely the source of their immunity to the ill effects of the void.

Chira: The only race naturally capable of flight, the chira have outwardly changed little from their pterosaur ancestors. Equally at home in the air, in the trees, and on the ground, they have developed grasping hands and feet in addition to the signature pterosaur wing. Typically standing about four feet tall, they have an impressive wingspan of over 14 feet on mature individuals, and are well adapted to low-energy soaring utilizing thermal updrafts. Living in small family groups, they claim the northern forests of the continent as their own, their homesteads and rabbit farms dotting the trees for miles. However, a sizeable part of the population has integrated itself into the human-kilinik community from their days as a conquered people under the empire; though uncommon, it’s not unusual to find communities of them within human cities, especially those further north. Unfortunately, between the partial assimilation by the empire and their forceful relocation by both the empire and later taven refugees, much of their native culture has been lost. In particular, any particularly aggressive cultures that resisted the empire were quickly and swiftly eliminated, and virtually all of their native religions have been suppressed or forgotten to time. To this day, there is still plenty of conflict between those seeking to rediscover, or at least reinvent their old traditions, and those who see living with the humans as the better choice. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the gaseous element, an obvious evolutionary choice for a being capable of flight.

Kilinik: A ubiquitous sight in human settlements, the kilinik have been partnered with them since long before their exodus to the northern continent. With their ancestors having split from the “standard tree of life” well over 300 million years ago, they are the most aberrant species among the sapients of the continent. Originating from the freshwater sharks of the Carboniferous, they evolved a tetrapod-esque body plan and eventually found their way into the trees, before returning to an amphibious lifestyle along the archipelagos and coastlines of the Pacific. The result of all this was a creature that looks superficially otter-like, albeit roughly human-sized, but still retained some shark-like characteristics, such as rough skin and electromagnetic reception. The latter, coupled with their ability to produce weak electric fields themselves, allowed them to communicate while underwater in a way that was virtually undetectable to their prey. On land, they instead utilize a form of sign language, which has been picked up by the humans they live with and readily incorporated into their language, as everyday as writing and speaking. Unfortunately, their sensitivity to electromagnetism poses trouble for any empowered individuals that show affinity for electromagnetism themselves, often having powers that make them incapable of communicating at anything other than the equivalent of a deafening scream. Often, such members were exiled to life exclusively on land, and more than a few living along the Pacific coast of South America met up with the humans who had settled there. Over the generations, trade was established, and, eventually, more than a few decided to live with their neighbors full time. The cultures blended, and together they built a civilization. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the liquid element, a clear advantage for a being that spends so much time submerged.

Sang: The sang have been the dominant civilization on the northern continent since time untold, and even following their disastrous and protracted war with humanity, they still remain one of the three major players, however shattered they may be. The Caltrek community in the north and the five unified kingdoms to the south make up the bulk of the sang population. Their technology is generally high-level, particularly in the fields of mechanical devices and mass production, and though they lag behind humanity in terms of power production, they’ve learned to move mountains with what they have. Their first flying machines were incredibly light and powered entirely by the force of their muscles, yet were able to compete directly with the human helicopter, powered by an electrical engine. They are also responsible for the creation of the largest free-standing structures on the continent, and their architectural techniques have been adopted by humanity on several occasions. Physically, they are a bipedal species, but adopt a horizontal rather than vertical posture, standing about four feet tall at the shoulder and about seven feet long. Decked from head to tail in feathers, they are incredibly birdlike, save for their clawed hands and toothed snout. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the solid element, likely part of the reason they are so adept at precision manufacture.

Akass: The swamps of the southeast are a dangerous, unforgiving habitat, but it is one the Akass gladly call home. Looking for all the world like a cross between a gorilla and an alligator, these imposing beings stand, or rather slouch, an impressive eight feet tall. While still dwarfed by the taven in terms of overall size, they easily match them in sheer strength, being incredibly well muscled and in possession of powerful arms and legs, well adapted to slogging through mires and swimming through plant-choked rivers. They are amphibious in nature, with smooth, moist skin along their flanks and bellies, and a life cycle that begins as an entirely aquatic larva. With long and robust jaws filled with multitudes of large, conical teeth, including sizeable tusks, they are the apex predators of their realm, rumored to be capable of eating all but the largest of crocodiles alive and whole. Despite their great physical bulk, however, they are a largely pacifistic and cooperative people, and have been known to shepherd people through their domain with little complaint. Unfortunately, this good will was taken advantage of by humanity, who relocated them to the islands of the gulf to gain access to the land and resources of the swamps. Still, they venture to the mainland regularly, and its very likely that large tribes still live in those areas considered too much of a hassle to drain. Those even more possessed of wanderlust have established colonies as far north as the great lakes, or, rarely, even integrated themselves into human-kilinik society. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the organic element, enabling them to adapt either themselves or their environment to whatever their land throws at them.

Kigaya: Though considerably larger than the sang at nearly six feet at the shoulder, the kigaya share their same basic body plan: bipedal, but with a horizontal posture and long tail. Unlike the sang, however, they are covered in stiff bristles along most of their body, save for their scaled lower arms and legs. Kigaya are notable for having an incredibly complex vocal apparatus, and a well-trained individual can easily mimic nearly any sound they come across, particularly speech. As such, many have disseminated far and wide to seek employment as translators, a booming business in a land where some find foreign languages physically impossible to pronounce. They’ve become something of a ubiquitous sight in large cities and embassies across the continent, and more than a few have become professional diplomats in their own right. Aside from the wanderers, though, the majority of the population resides in Caltrek and the neighboring nations of Jaris and Eten. Though not commonly thought as such, the kigaya are nonetheless one of the industrialized nations of the continent. While they lack the precision manufacture of the sang, the immense power supply of humanity, and the flagrant disregard for the laws of physics of the taven, they still have a well-built infrastructure and a decent level of technology. This is largely helped by the fact that they are the only major power that was left relatively untouched by the human-sang war. Empowered individuals tend to display an affinity for the mental element, further increasing their prowess at translation and diplomacy.