Humans made their debut gradually and quietly. Rumors spread of uncanny shapes in the distance- things neither Kith or dwarf, but not quite elf either- whose fires moved each night, whose tracks were accompanied by those of strange beasts, and whose presence was never far afore quick, desperate thefts from villages near their encampments. For many moons, their true nature remained shrouded by their caution, but there was never any doubt that these creatures were just as smart as they were daring. The Kith were the first to actually make contact. Nighttime scouts from a Six Talons city observed a scuffle breaking out between two groups, and after the scrap subsided, the scouts made contact with each, offering medical aid as a means of discovering more about them. Both groups traveled with children and elders, and besides the injuries sustained in combat, every single one of their number appeared sick from exhaustion. Wary of the Kith though they were, they accepted healing and tried to trade in exchange. In the morning they were gone.
That first meeting sparked a flurry of interactions from humans- some aggressive, but most friendly; reaching out, offering their skills and what little they had to offer in exchange for knowledge and supplies, staying for longer and sharing more about themselves. Humankind as a whole seemed unspecialized in any particular way, except to be astonishingly resilient and to have an unnaturally strong knack for getting animals and plants to be useful. Individuals displayed a wide range of ability and talent, and made up for their lack of strong species-wide adaptation with a delegation approach to group survival. A powerful cohesion kept their traveling units working together beyond family and friends- humanity bore a burden they seemed eager to forget, but drew strength from carrying it together nonetheless. The carved stone idols each pack of humans brought with them were presented with pride and worry whenever asked after; they were guardians, it was said, all sleeping and inert ever since they had left home behind. And home, it was discovered, was a sore spot.
To the tune of disaster, the elves became the ones to discover the most about humanity's uprooting. The draining affliction spread almost immediately to elfkind after their first significant contacts, and its nature became clear: it was a devourer. It ate magic, and when there was no more magic to be had, it ate its carrier. Kith and dwarf alike were immune to the malady, and so the magic-eater burned unchecked through both its hosts, as devastating as any endless storm.
This put a damper on human-elf relations for quite some time.
Wondrous magic is rare in Berla now. The days of sorcerer-kings and impossible feats are revisited only in legend, and the last few sources of the old power lie within the artifacts. Each of these treasures has a name and a long history: the Kith, eldest of Berla's children, still recount grand epics of finding artifacts in barrows and ruined cities long since buried by the glacier, the dwarves speak in hushed tones of the sacred tools bestowed by Mother Mountain in the deep dark earth, and the elves have their share of loot from a hundred coasts and battles. Even humans had a scattered few when they arrived, though their wielders are not remembered in as detailed a record as the others. Each artifact grants unique gifts to its wielder, and a rare handful are so deeply suffused with the old power that minds stir within them. When a wielder and an artifact forge a bond, they accomplish deeds the likes of which can be found only children's stories.
After decades of the consuming, in their hour of desperation, a heavy bargain was struck with a truly ancient artifact. Two wielders, an elf and a human, traded their lives to seal away the worst of their peoples' affliction within the patron treasure. A dwarvish queen entombed them in a secret location to safeguard this pact, sending only their last words to their loved ones, and let the knowledge of their final resting place die with her. This sacrifice inspired a fierce devotion between the kin of each wielder, giving rise to a united community ruled by alternating leaders from each lineage. The heroes were immortalized in the banner of the dual star: their clasped hands raised between them in victory, their faces obscured by light, their free hands reaching out to those they left behind, and those not yet joined in this harmony.
Many settlements joined willingly, whether out of gratitude or need, and in time, as the mythologization took hold of the young Ethalian nation, many more were enfolded by force. The elvish wielder's identity eventually blended to indistinction with Inaala, and the humans echoed with Tyrrha, a clear idealization of their best qualities and an equal. Together- with twin gods, a balance of leaders, and a fire of conviction within- the survivors began to thrive.
Description: You’ve been born with a higher than average constitution and gain 1 extra hit.
Description: You have a natural connection to the arcane. You gain 1 extra rune.
Description: You can wield a bow regardless of your class restrictions.
Description: Your age has given you wisdom. You have -1 hit, but +2 runes.
Description: Either your advancing age, or all consuming focus on the arcane has left your body frail, but given you access to additional runic energy. You have -2 hits, but +4 runes.
Description: You may add an extra 10 seconds to the incant time of any spell to decrease its rune cost by 1. You cannot lower a spell's cost below 1 rune with this ability. You can only use this ability once per cast of a spell.
Description: You can use 1 less material when crafting items. Cannot reduce the material cost to less than 1.
Description: Taking damage doesn't interrupt the casting of spells.
Description: When you Rest you regain 2 hits instead of the normal 1 every time you rest.
Description: You gain 1 extra Stamina Point.
Description: You regain 2 Stamina per rest instead of the normal 1.