National University of Science and Technology (MISiS), Moscow, 163 hours after Worldshift
Putin's gaze was intense as he addressed the metallurgist, who nodded in response. "You said you had interesting finds for us?"
Her face lit up with excitement. "Indeed, sir. The metals used in the construction of these biplanes are truly fascinating. We've identified an aluminum alloy, unlike any known to Earth science, and it's combined with a substance hitherto unknown to us. Thanks to our new partners, we now have information about this mysterious element called Mithril or Ythmar."
"Mithril?" Putin echoed, intrigued.
"Yes, Mithril, sir. It possesses remarkable properties. It's fifty thousand times stronger than steel, yet half the density. This makes it an ideal material for constructing airplanes, enabling their aircraft to withstand multiple missile impacts before succumbing to damage."
His interest peaked, Putin inquired further, "Can we source this material ourselves? It would be challenging to create a substantial amount of the metal by melting down these biplanes alone."
"But we do have some, Mr. President," she said with a hint of excitement. "You see, these pirates unknowingly stumbled upon Mithril deposits while seeking resources to mine them for the refineries of their airship. Their intention was to raid our territories what they believed were unestablished settlements, but it seems that the Worldshift had caused certain materials to emerge upwards from the abyssal plains and move closer to the surface."
She displayed a hastily crafted computer imaging of the phenomenon, showcasing the upswell of various materials, including Mithril, ascending towards the surface. The screen depicted other metals and minerals previously unheard of in their universe, each marked with distinct colors. Putin couldn't help but feel a rush of fascination as he realized the potential significance of this discovery.
Putin's mind raced with excitement and wonder. He could already envision an entire new epoch of industries taking shape in Russia, an age of technological marvels built upon the foundation of these extraordinary materials.
"Interesting," Putin remarked with a knowing smirk, acknowledging the enigmatic forces at play. He couldn't help but entertain the idea that the Worldspirit's gift to Russia might hold a more profound purpose, orchestrated with a grander design in mind.
"Considering the scale of this phenomenon, I assume its reach extends beyond our borders," he inquired.
"Yes, Mr. President," the metallurgist confirmed.
"In that case, we maintain the advantage of us being the first to know where to initiate our exploration," Putin affirmed confidently. "I'll immediately set the miners in motion and make the necessary arrangements for the refining equipment. However, it is paramount that you share all the data you can salvage with me. We need to be fully equipped with the knowledge to leverage this incredible opportunity."
Putin's eyes narrowed in curiosity as he asked, "But How did they manage to carry such an astonishing amount of ammunition in those biplanes anyway?"
The metallurgist shrugged, not entirely certain of the specifics. "Well, from what I've heard, they utilized some form of shrinking spells or similar mystical techniques. Honestly, it's not exactly within my area of expertise," she admitted.
Putin pondered the implications of planes capable of withstanding multiple hits and armed with an overwhelming arsenal. It was an intriguing concept—one that sparked his imagination.
"And how, precisely, did they manage to construct a colossal craft of four hundred and eighty-six thousand tonnes, stretching an astonishing five hundred and sixty-seven meters in length?" Putin inquired, his mind grappling with the magnitude of the enigma before them. Reports had indeed surfaced regarding the Arctic sea fleet's fierce battle with a single airship, but the numbers now presented on the table were staggering, belied the fact that the airship outpassed the entire fleet by a good margin.
He couldn't help but contemplate the strategic implications of the battle. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—if he had authorized tactical nuclear bombardment, perhaps they could have brought the airship down sooner, but at what cost? Destroying it outright would have meant forfeiting the opportunity to study and analyze such a technological marvel. Understanding the mechanics behind its construction and operation could potentially yield invaluable insights and unlock new frontiers of aviation and engineering.
He knew that preserving the hulk of the ship was the right decision, and now, his determination to delve into the mysteries of this otherworldly vessel intensified. The possibilities were tantalizing—reverse-engineering its advanced technologies, studying its unique alloys, and decoding the methods behind its staggering load-carrying capacity.
As he looked around the room, he saw mirrored in the eyes of his team a shared sense of purpose—all busy with data and reports unraveling this enigma and leveraging the knowledge to reinforce Russia's standing as a global powerhouse.
"It's not precisely within my department, but the engineering team should have the detailed report ready for you very soon. I believe their methods should be ripe for reverse engineering," the metallurgist assured, her voice filled with enthusiasm for the groundbreaking project ahead.
"Excellent news," Putin replied, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "Perhaps your laboratory will soon be instrumental in aiding Russia's endeavor to build airships of her own—far superior to what some disorganized pirate rabble could ever manage. Rest assured, you will have all the necessary funding at your disposal."
The metallurgist couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and responsibility wash over her as she stood at attention and saluted. "Thank you, Mister President. I am honored by the trust you place in our work," she responded, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose.
As Putin began to walk away, he turned back with a warm smile. "And by the way, congratulations on your daughter making Ace. Her achievements do her and your family proud. Expect to hear from me about that soon."
Excerpt from article: "Friends of Sverðbrotsjórland movement established in Sweden" - BBC, 185 hours after Worldshift
On the heels of Worldshift, a movement called "Friends of Sverðbrotsjórland" has emerged in Sweden, seeking to support and aid the people of the region. The movement aims to foster understanding, recognition, and assistance for the inhabitants of Sverðbrotsjórland, who share cultural similarities with Northern communities such as the Sami, Inuit, Siberians, Ainu, and Finnish.
Ellena Persson, a prominent advocate for the cause, emphasizes the urgent need to provide support and freedom for the Sverðbrotsjórland people, who have endured hardship and suffering for an extended period. After visiting Skjöldholm, she received items from the villagers, further reinforcing the necessity to extend aid and prevent exploitation or oppression.
In response to criticism suggesting that the Sverðbrotsjórland people do not belong in Antarctica or any other nation, Persson expresses her belief that it is a fundamental duty of all humans to help those in need, regardless of their origin or identity. She firmly rejects any notion that compassion and assistance should be withheld from these individuals.
The movement's focus lies in offering homes, support, and understanding, rather than allowing opportunists or nationalists to take advantage of the situation for their gain. The ultimate goal is to empower the Sverðbrotsjórland people and strengthen their presence in the global community.
While some individuals have labeled the Sverðbrotsjórland inhabitants as "barbarians" or incompatible with certain cultures, Persson urges against such discriminatory sentiments. Instead, she highlights the importance of aiding those who are in need, irrespective of their background or beliefs, calling for solidarity among all humanity.
The "Friends of Sverðbrotsjórland" movement in Sweden seeks to stand in solidarity with the Sverðbrotsjórland people, recognizing their shared cultural ties with Northern communities. With a focus on compassion, support, and empowerment, the movement aims to contribute positively to the lives of these individuals and combat prejudice or exploitation.
...
The proclamation of Sverðbrotsjórland and the potential influx of millions of migrants from the North have ignited a heated debate in international politics. Various organizations are calling for the expulsion of the Frost-Folk or "Kraldurmaður" of the Sverðbrotsjór clan, arguing that they are encroaching on "antarctic land that rightfully belongs to Earth." Additionally, some groups are advocating for turning back any migrants seeking to settle in the Arctic regions, suggesting that they should find homes in less troubled areas.
On the other hand, there are those who contest the "clan communal democracy" of the Sverðbrotsjórs, claiming that it has no place in the modern political and financial systems. They fear that the arrival of the clan and its members will further destabilize already vulnerable systems.
In the words of Clive Palmer, an Australian MP hopeful, he expressed concerns about the values and intentions of certain groups claiming land that he believes rightfully belongs to established countries, including Australia. According to him, their arrival with fleets and troops raises suspicion, challenging the notion that they are innocent migrants seeking a new home. He firmly believes that such actions should not be allowed, and he advocates for their expulsion, suggesting that they become the responsibility of another nation, perhaps like the rumored "reds from Verdacora."
There are differing views on the establishment of Sverðbrotsjórland, with some opposing it as an illegal occupation of Antarctica. However, these individuals support the idea of welcoming migrants into Earth's countries. As expressed by Emmanuel Macron, he believes that unilateral declarations of new nations on Earth's soil should not be accepted. Nevertheless, he advocates for a more compassionate approach towards migrants, encouraging countries to be open to those seeking new homes, as they can potentially contribute to the strength and diversity of nations.
In his words, "We should not be accepting unilateral declarations of new nations on Earth soil. However, we should not turn away those who are seeking new homes and could bring new strength to our nations. I urge the authority settling in Antarctica to reconsider their rash decision to declare an independent nation and consider instead assimilating with existing ones so as to bring stability to the geopolitical scene in these trying times."
Others hold a contrasting viewpoint on the matter. As articulated by European Parliament Member, Jörg Meuthen, he suggests a different approach, stating, "Let them keep the Antarctic, but to allow a massive flow of migrants with such distinct religious and political cultures from Earth's is highly inadvisable. We lack certainty regarding the truth of their exodus story and whether their integration into our current civilization would be seamless. Allowing them to flourish in Antarctica, where they can preserve their own culture and build their own cities, would prevent the spread of disruption and chaos to Germany and the broader world."
Chairperson of the Communist Party of India, Mariam Dhawale, on the other hand, aligns herself with the Friends of Sverðbrotsjórland movement, advocating for unambiguous support for people fleeing the hardships of their former homelands in search of new homes, regardless of their location—be it in India, Antarctica, or any other place. She firmly believes that no person should turn away a needy refugee, emphasizing the importance of providing compassion and assistance to those seeking refuge.
In her words, "Whether they be in India or the Antarctic or anywhere else, let no person turn away the needy refugee. Whether or not the Sverðbrotsjórs are without flaw or not, this is not the time to abandon them to those who would seek to harm them in their time of weakness."
According to current polls, the Friends of Sverðbrotsjórland movement has emerged as a dominant force in the ongoing discussion. With more than 80% of respondents worldwide expressing support for the establishment of Sverðbrotsjórland and approximately 65% in favor of allowing Kraldurmaður migration to Earth, the momentum behind these ideas is significant. Many people view this migration as a potential solution to counteract the shifting climate in the arctic regions.
However, there is growing concern about a recently formed movement known as "Knife the Knife Ears!" in the United States. This small but alarming faction not only advocates for the expulsion of the Kraldurmaður but also seeks their eradication, falsely labeling them as "Marxist Elf hordes" intending to compromise human purity and steal the planet. Similar movements with a "Terra first, terra only!" policy have emerged in other parts of the world as copycats.
One notable figure associated with this movement is Dinesh D'Souza, who sparked controversy earlier this week by advocating for immediate nuclear war with Atericil.
First International Reception Chambers of the Coronia, 193 hours after Worldshift
Saerana delicately filled her glass with an enchanting emerald liquid, its mesmerizing hue reflecting the gravity of the moment. The room hummed with the animated discussions of military and political officials from across Earth and the Zonth Ocean region, each engaged in critical negotiations aboard her residence ship. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, Saerana couldn't shake the feeling of being a fish out of the water, surrounded by seasoned decision-makers.
As she took a quick gulp of the drink, trying to find solace in its invigorating taste, her eyes were drawn to a figure that commanded attention—a Chiropti with feathered hands and a beaked countenance. The creature's fervent words resonated throughout the hall, igniting a fire of determination within the hearts of those present. The impassioned plea for the liberation of Gracevylka struck deep chords, stirring a profound sense of outrage against the oppressive Conclave and their ruthless adversaries.
"Freedom must be wrested back into the hands of the people of Gracevylka!" The impassioned words echoed through the hall as the Chiropti's feathered hands struck the table with fervor. The beaked creature glared at the assembled delegations, eyes burning with a profound sense of outrage. The plight of their homeland, languishing beneath the oppressive rule of the Conclave and suffering at the hands of their brutal adversaries, weighed heavily on their heart. Each passing day brought more suffering, as the people were reduced to mere pawns, slaves, and subjected to unspeakable horrors by the most vicious enemies known to the world.
Saerana couldn't help but recall her own experiences fighting alongside the lightning troopers, supporting them in battles during the earlier stages of the war. The memory of aiding those brave souls now made her heart ache at the thought of their homeland being under brutal occupation. She wondered if the family she had helped before was still safe, their fate hanging in uncertainty. A question for Norvol, the Moon God, who often held wisdom and insight beyond mortal comprehension.
"Indeed, you shall have what you seek," Count Askortil of Viskarl proclaimed with a hint of regal assurance. Their aristocratic demeanor was unmistakable, with an air of prestige exuded by their four arms, one of which casually adjusted their monocle. Saerana couldn't help but notice the viperfish-like features of the Varhuadin, emanating an essence of brine and arrogance that didn't sit well with her.
"While we welcome our newfound partners, it is essential to acknowledge that the augmentation process of our partners up to proper standards will necessitate additional time," the Count continued, their voice carrying the weight of calculated diplomacy. "We must prepare counter-offensives and meticulously coordinate our combined efforts to ensure success, as the path ahead is rife with challenges."
Saerana nodded, recognizing the strategic importance of patience and careful planning. The alliance with the new nations of Earth held immense potential, but rushing the process of augmentation could lead to unintended consequences. She admired the Count's diplomatic finesse, though the scent of arrogance lingering beneath their words left her with a twinge of unease.
"So, the Conclave of Shadows, huh? How bad are they, really?" Trump asked, his tone betraying a mix of curiosity and perhaps a hint of dismissiveness. Saerana's gaze sharpened as she turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. Ever since Dinesh had made his reckless threats of war, and Trump had casually shrugged them off as mere jest, her respect for the man had dwindled considerably. Askortil might be a source of irritation, but this man... she found him difficult to bear.
"If you happen to fall into the clutches of the Kumun, of clan Tukuk, consider yourself unlucky, they are merciless and ruthless, and their methods of killing are brutal and savage. Alternatively, they might drag you into the Urth, a horrifying fate that no soul would wish to endure." Saerana replied, her voice tinged with disdain.
"Could you kindly elaborate on the Urth?" Karen Pierce inquired, representing Britain amidst a leadership crisis that had left the government in disarray. Saerana, still trying to grasp the intricate details of the situation, knew that it involved a confederacy issue on the peninsula of the largest continent.
"Beneath the surface lies the realm of Urth, the underground. It's a vast network of tunnels, caverns, and burrows that extend countless thrims below the surface," explained Army Commander Xant Vild. The automaton's optics mimicked a blink as it stared at the assembly.
"I'm aware of that much, yes. But what can we do about it?" Karen inquired further.
"You'll need to prepare soldiers trained for deep underground combat, along with suitable weapons and vehicles. However, it's not an insurmountable challenge. With a few months, perhaps a year of training, your forces can be ready," the Jothii representative offered.
"Underground..." Syed Akbaruddin, the Indian representative muttered as he jotted down notes.
"Would you be willing to assist us with this endeavor?" he asked. Saerana couldn't help but sympathize; avoiding the affairs of the Urth was one of the reasons the original Mage Priests had wanted to fly away. She couldn't blame Syed for immediately seeking help to confront the potential subterranean threat.
"If you intend to open up the southern front, we'll provide all the support we can muster," declared Bhasdrelsia Honormaul, the boisterous blonde dwarf, her laughter reverberating as she slapped her hand on the table. "The Clan Federation of Hufbul is at your service."
"Certainly, though I must admit, the state of your undersea warfare will need some significant improvements if it is to meet international standards," he said, his tone veiled with condescension as he looked at the South African representative. The three submarines of the South African Fleet had left a less-than-impressive impression on the count and his Grand Emperor. The naked disdain in his expression spoke volumes about his lack of interest in diplomatic niceties. It was all part of the political game; such arrogance sowed seeds of doubt and uncertainty, leaving people intimidated.
"We are not exactly specialized in underwater combat," the Brazilian delegate interjected, seeking to explain their situation.
"An easy enough fix. Most of the time will be spent on training your personnel for it. You must carefully choose advisors and experts to equip your navy with undersea arms," the count replied, with an air of self-assurance. Despite her intense dislike for the man and his ideals, the Brazilian delegate restrained herself, remaining in her seat and silently making a few strokes of her pen.
"Of course, some nations will require more effort than others to reach the proper standards, but we will manage," he added, leaning back and snapping his jaws in self-approval.
"Excuse me," Sahle-Work Zewde interjected, rising from her seat to speak. The Ethiopian President had mostly remained quiet during the discussion, but the focus on militarization compelled her to speak up.
"You are discussing preparations for war on a massive scale and supplying already wealthy and powerful nations, are you not?" she inquired.
The Ralsith delegate, with Kitsune ears perking up over their human-like face, responded, "Where did we imply that?"
"You mention countries like America, India, France, Russia, and China, but what about nations like ours? Are we to fend for ourselves or are we to become a part of a new group of great powers?" President Zewde raised a valid and pressing question, feeling uncomfortable with the overwhelming dominance of great powers in the conversation. Just as Saerana noticed the Count preparing to speak, she took decisive action, slamming the table to grab everyone's attention. The monocled count fell silent, and she considered her mission accomplished.
"We would be more than willing to offer you assistance, President Zewde," Saerana chimed in, ensuring to address her fellow delegate respectfully. "Please, tell us what you need, and I'll make the necessary arrangements. While some of us," she added, casting a brief yet pointed glare at the Count, who was visibly agitated, "may disregard countries like yours, we are more than happy to work with you on any requirements. Feel free to reach out to us or our representatives to discuss this further."
Trump then rose, drawing exasperation from some European heads and interest from others. "Okay, let's be clear," he began, his voice carrying an assertive tone. "You can't simply barge into our system without adhering to agreements and deals we've already made. If you want to get involved, you should negotiate through us first."
"We do indeed have special relationships with many of these countries, and we expect those to be taken into consideration, rather than having the whole playbook thrown out," Macron added, supporting Trump's stance but remaining seated.
"We'll consider it," Saerana replied with a forced smile, hoping to conceal her true feelings as she navigated the delicate diplomatic waters. The room seemed to hold its breath, aware of the complexities and potential repercussions of their conversations.
Tokyo, 199 hours after Worldshift
The bustling metropolis of Tokyo was a cacophony of sounds and colors, a stark contrast to Aerva's previous life. She marveled at the sheer energy and activity that surrounded her. The cityscape was a mosaic of neon lights, blaring billboards, and the constant hum of life moving at an exhilarating pace. It was a stark departure from the tranquility of her former homeland, Kraldurmaður, and it was overwhelming.
Aerva couldn't keep track of the number of people who stopped her on the streets. Cameras flashed, and people eagerly approached her, either for a quick snapshot or to pose beside her as if she were a living tourist attraction. She understood their fascination, for she was new in town, a representative of her enigmatic homeland. Her arrival had stirred the curiosity of Tokyo's denizens, and she was the center of attention. However, the constant attention felt like living in a fishbowl, with no respite from the public eye.
Yet, beneath the surface of this celebrity culture, Aerva found genuine warmth and enthusiasm among the people. Many of them greeted her with smiles, makeshift costumes, and signs held aloft in welcome. Although the cosplay seemed a tad comical to her, with hastily assembled outfits and participants who were far too short to pass as Kraldurmaður, she couldn't help but appreciate the effort and sincerity behind their gestures.
Amidst the crowds, there was one group that particularly caught Aerva's attention. They wore shirts emblazoned with stylized depictions of her wielding an axe against the formidable Hargulfthir. She recognized the iconic scene from her heroic battle, a moment that had captured the imaginations of those who indulged in art inspired by such daring feats. These enthusiasts, young and old alike, hailed her as a legend.
Aerva felt compelled to connect with them, to acknowledge the admiration that had brought them here today. She gestured to her guards to stand down, sensing their readiness to intervene, and gracefully lowered herself to one knee. It was a simple act of bridging the gap, of meeting these passionate fans at their level, both physically and emotionally.
Among those fans, one young girl stood out. Aeva couldn't help but notice the sparkle of excitement in her eyes as she introduced herself. "Yuriko Chiaki!" she exclaimed with unbridled glee. Aeva estimated her age to be on the cusp of adolescence, with plenty of growth ahead, even if she would likely never surpass the bottom of her ribcage.
Aeva smiled warmly at Yuriko, her heart touched by the genuine enthusiasm radiating from this young admirer. "Well, what do you want to ask me, Yuriko?" she inquired, eager to engage with her newfound friend.
Yuriko's face lit up even more as she posed her request, her voice filled with wonder. "Can you show me how strong you are?" she asked, her eyes brimming with anticipation.
Aeva glanced around, her gaze meeting that of her vigilant guards who were prepared to intervene. However, she sensed the innocence and pure curiosity in Yuriko's request. With a reassuring nod to her guards, she decided to grant Yuriko's wish.
"Of course, Yuriko. Just give me a moment," Aerva replied, her voice carrying a sense of quiet determination. She approached a nearby car, its owner looking on with a mix of disbelief and excitement. After a brief exchange and a promise to handle the vehicle with utmost care, Aerva positioned herself beside the relatively small car.
With a deep breath, she channeled her Emporic magic, the same power that had allowed her to face Hargulfthir, into her hand. She wanted to make sure the car wouldn't tip over or crumple beneath its own weight.
As she lifted the car overhead, it rose effortlessly, defying the laws of physics. It was a mesmerizing sight, the vehicle suspended in mid-air as if it were as light as a pillow. The crowd erupted in awe, and the clicking of cameras echoed through the streets as people captured this extraordinary moment.
Yuriko's eyes sparkled with wonder, and she couldn't contain her excitement. "Wow! What's it like for you?" she asked, clapping her hands in pure delight.
Aeva chuckled warmly, her gaze shifting from the car to Yuriko. "It's like a feather, don't even feel a thing. Like a little mouse." Aeva's immense strength was evident, but she downplayed it, making it seem effortless as she gracefully balanced the car with a single hand before smoothly passing it to her other hand and gently lowering it back to the ground.
Yuriko's curiosity knew no bounds. "Can I be that strong?" she asked with hope in her eyes.
Aeva knelt down to Yuriko's eye level, her expression reassuring. "I had a head start, that's for sure. But if things go your way, if you can channel enough Emporic magic into your bones... you can move mountains," she said, her words carrying the weight of experience and wisdom.
"Really?" Yuriko's voice trembled with excitement and curiosity, her eyes wide as she hung on every word Aerva spoke.
Aeva nodded with a reassuring smile. "Absolutely. Anyone can learn any kind of magic. You just need the right teachers and time." Her words were filled with the conviction of someone who had experienced the wonders of magic firsthand.
"Can you teach me?" Yuriko's eagerness was palpable as she leaned in closer, her heart brimming with hope.
Aeva's laughter filled the air, a warm and genuine sound. "Ahahah, you'd need to ask your family about that. But perhaps," she replied, her eyes twinkling with possibility. Yuriko wasted no time and dashed off to consult with her parents, leaving Aerva with her thoughts.
One of Aerva's guards, Solveig, approached her with a hint of concern. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, her voice low and cautious.
"They said no...but I could ask how to talk to you later?" Yuriko's voice was full of determination and optimism as she rejoined Aerva, disappointment momentarily pushed aside.
Aeva reached into her pocket, producing an ice-blue metallic pendant. She extended it toward Yuriko, explaining its purpose. "This will let you speak to me if I can, just open it like a telephone." Aeva hadn't often used telephones herself, her unique role and responsibilities often taking her far from the reach of modern technology. But she figured that this analogy would be more relatable to Yuriko than some of the alternatives.
Yuriko accepted the pendant with gratitude, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "Thanks! When will you be free?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.
Aeva chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, her heart warmed by the connection they had forged. "Hahah, that I'd have to ask the shamans!" she replied playfully, patting Yuriko gently on the head. With a parting smile, she encouraged Yuriko to continue her adventure, knowing that their paths would cross again.
"Now get going, I need to talk to your prime minister," Aeva said, straightening to her full height. She had official duties to attend to, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility toward this bright young soul she had just met.
"I'll see you soon, right?" Yuriko's hopeful inquiry hung in the air, seeking reassurance.
"Of course," Aeva responded, her words carrying a promise that resonated deep within her. With a graceful flip of her long, snow-white hair, she looked across the street, taking in the vibrant chaos of Tokyo. Prime Minister Abe had insisted that she take some time to "experience" Japan before the formal talks began, and she had gladly accepted the invitation.
As Aeva strolled along the crowded streets, she couldn't help but experience a mix of emotions. Tokyo was a metropolis of contrasts, where the city's sheer magnitude coexisted with moments of profound intimacy. Yet, there was an underlying sensation of claustrophobic melancholy in the air, a feeling that this bustling cityscape was both too busy and too small all at once.
Her expression turned slightly pensive, and a subtle frown tugged at her lips. The juxtaposition of her vast homeland, Kraldurmaður, with the condensed energy of Tokyo left her with a sense of unease. It was a feeling akin to having too many eyes watching her every move, a fish in a pond far too small for comfort.
However, the recent encounter with Yuriko had warmed her heart and offered a glimmer of hope amid the urban hustle. She was reminded that even in this expansive city, meaningful connections could be forged. With a determined nod, she gestured to her companions to continue exploring the city.
The Kumun: Denizens of the Deep (Out-of-Universe Overview)
In the vast cosmos, scattered among countless Urths of innumerable worlds, the Kumun stand as one of the most renowned species. Often depicted as the eerie offspring of moles, rats, and shrews, the Kumun captivate imaginations with their vast numbers and insatiable appetites.
Physical Traits: Every Kumun boasts several unmistakable characteristics: tentacle-like nasal projections reminiscent of star-nosed moles, which enable them to traverse the darkest of terrains and recognize each other. Their minuscule eyes, sensitive to light, are often shielded by protective goggles. An ever-growing set of sharp teeth lines their mouths, frequently shedding and being replaced. A coat of coarse, matted fur envelopes their tough, creased skin. And, almost as a playful contradiction, their hairless tails animatedly swing behind them. Their robust arms culminate in versatile claws, adept at both digging and handling intricate objects.
Societal Castes:
Uzumuks: Compact and sturdy, these are the backbone workers of the Kumun society.Kazumuks: Slender and more reminiscent of rats, they function as scouts, expendable troops, and messengers.Rakumuks: Towering, with physiques rivaling legendary behemoths and tempestuous natures, these elites serve as warriors and guardians.Zuzmuks: Possessing an upright, regal stature, they act as the middle-tier managers and magical artisans of the community.Gratumuks: Towering and gracefully slender, these are the Kumun nobility, distinguished by ornate horns and profound magical prowess.Yuzumuks: This caste, often viewed with a mix of pity and pragmatism, exists primarily for breeding.
While every Kumun possesses reproductive capabilities, societal roles and the sheer necessity of their societal structure often delegate this task to the Yuzumuks. This strategy frees the rest to focus solely on societal functions, with the exception of those few who wander away from their eusocial nests and indulge in individual desires.
Societal Structures: Kumun societies are generally structured as coalitions of clans, centered around families of breeding Kumun. The Yuzumuks, due to their crucial role, become valuable assets, exchanged among clans to maintain genetic variety and bolster future Kumun generations. In these societies, those who can produce food wield significant influence. Their ceaseless quest for expansion often results in monumental subterranean architectural marvels. Deep below the surface of the Urth, in vast caverns stretching for kilometers, the Kumun have erected bustling, ever-expanding metropolises.
Origins & Distribution: The annals of time have obscured the exact moment the Kumun arrived on Xarazanth. What's known is that they ventured from the Earthly plane through mystical portals, initially settling in the grand caverns of Ulugruk. From these humble beginnings, they proliferated across the Urth, and today, remain one of its predominant intelligent inhabitants.
Underclan Tukuk: Whispers in the Shadow (Out-of-Universe Overview)
Mere mention of "Underclan Tukuk" is enough to send a shiver down many spines. Commanded by the formidable Great Queen Zarkasta and her shrewd council, this Underclan has forged dark alliances that reverberate through the realms.
Dreaded Alliances: Central to Tukuk's alliances is a pact with the Strakhul, integrated within the ominous Conclave of Shadows, with one main purpose: to appease the vengeful god Umgruthuka. This deity, steeped in ancient Kumun legends, is the manifestation of spite, a singular, wrathful entity birthed from nefarious magical rites and unholy sacraments.
Queen Zarkasta's Ambitions: With her zealous devotion to Umgruthuka, Zarkasta harbors an ambition that few dare fathom. She envisions herself ascending to the echelons of Quasideities, powered by innumerable sacrifices. To her devout followers, she promises a dark allure: upon their death, they would be reborn as shadow-imbued soul entities, granting them an eternity at her side, should they march unwaveringly into the abyss with her.
The War Machine of Tukuk: Underclan Tukuk's reputation in warfare is nothing short of nightmarish. Contributing a vast, ever-growing legion to the Conclave of Shadows, tales of their battlefield savagery are widely whispered. Notorious for consuming adversaries in the thick of combat, they further spread dread with their weaponized concoctions—a lethal fusion of the potent yellow toxin from Tsarinthic and crystallized dark magic. Regions where they've clashed often become toxic wastelands, with the land's very essence mutated for years afterward.
The Pursuit of the League: Uncovering the hidden heart of Underclan Tukuk, its capital, has long been an obsession of the League. They believe that by unveiling this secret, they might exploit the clan's internal political fractures and turn the tide against the shadowy behemoth that is Tukuk.