Since time immemorial, the Caravan has circled the desert, and with it have marched innumerable beasts, with many more sighted and spoken into legends by our ever-moving people. Come, rest by the fire, and let me share much that I have gleaned in my many years crossing the Expanse. I have followed many a daring breakaway seeking to expand the reach of our grand journey and saw the fate that befalls those that are not wary or keen enough to respect that outside the Caravan… there be monsters and majesty both.
Evening young’uns! What a day, huh? Now I promised a tale to lighten the evening yet again, but for the life of me, I ain’t certain where I was gonna st-
Oh right! The Karsts of the Kah-Rehm. Dozens of shear and towering spires of stone border the Heart on its northern side. At their bases, plains of golden grass wave in the wind, and the Kah-Rehm keep their farms that would not last on the stark chilly reaches of the karsts' grand heights. It is said that the karsts were once a branch of the Reach, but the spirits of the Mountains entered into a competition as to whom could grow the tallest. They stretched and stretched, reaching ever towards Shimreth. But they didn’t notice that the further they reached up, the thinner they became. In the end, none were able to reach their goal, and many crumbled, leaving bare expanses that further separated those that survived, leaving them forever disconnected from each other and the greater Reach.
Yet, today Kah-Rehm have reunited the Karsts into a singular body using bridges of stone and bamboo hardened by careful applications of magic and reinforced by supplications to the numerous spirits of wind that sing across the peaks. 'Course, some are so close that the Kah-Rehm simply leap across, a feat not many can accomplish, but especially not the landing. Sure, many of the karsts have been shaped with paths that other folk like you or I have walked, but there are plenty of places the Kah-Rehm wish to keep to themselves, from holy grounds to hunting places to villages keen on isolation. Those paths are walked by them alone, ascending vertical cliffs as easily as we walk on the ground. Of course, the Kith could follow them if they wished, but they are far too polite.
'Course, up in the scattered forests, hot springs, and moss fields that are scattered across the karsts, numerous animals are just as capable of moving about, with many taking to the wind and others having grown to move just as the Kah-Rehm do. Many of these beasts are honored figures in the Kah-Rehm’s daily lives or dread figures they work to subvert, but there is one they hold above all others.
The Laruu, as anyone who has come from the Karsts can tell you, is considered by the Kah-Rehm to be the most beautiful flying beast in the entire desert. The name loosely translates to “Hope’s Light” and is tied centrally to their curious feathers. Of course, young’uns, the bird makes a sound that resembles its chosen name, though I am not sure if that is a coincidence, omen, or the latter informed the former. Back to the feathers, most of the year birds, both male, and female, are, if I may be honest and perhaps a bit heretical, not that impressive, a scattered pattern of greys and browns that allow them to hide against the sides of the karst while both on the wing and at rest.
Males, however, go through a sudden and striking change when their breeding season comes about, with their feathers becoming a shifting mass of reflecting iridescence that allows them to have Taá join their dances in an effort to impress their chosen mates. The greatest and flashiest dancer, as with many birds, is the one that fathers the most chicks for the next year’s spring. That alone would be enough to catch the eye of the early Kah-Rehm, but their main fascination is the three feathers that grow atop their brow, an alluring, almost gem-like red that draws not the light of the sun but the radiance of one of the grand comets that bless our sky.
The Kah-Rehm believe that the Laruu were blessed by the spirit of the comet itself, and this most certainly adds to the bird's mystique. However, their ability to escape capture seems almost magical. They are not the most fast-looking birds, let me tell you, with their bulky beaks and wide wings, indeed a full span in length. None of that seems built for speed, and yet their agility is unmatched in the air.
As such, Kah-Rehm of the Karst’s greatest challenge is to not just capture a Laruu but remove one of the blessed feathers and leave the bird unharmed while doing so. To call it a challenge is nearly an understatement, ha! My entire life I have only met ten karstfolk with a Laruu feather on their horns, but there is one honor even greater amongst their people: Hope Guardian.
See, a bird as flashy as that, no matter how fast, gains the attention of predators, and males, for all their perception, in the through of their mating dances or during their brief rests, are highly visible targets, and as I have said, life will ever find a way to fill a niche.
Enter the Yuakaru, “Hope’s Shadow.” This massive predatory bat, while nowhere near as fast as the Laruu, is far stealthier and much more cunning.
Now, the Yuakaru do not solely hunt Laruu; a beast that big, with wings nearly three spans in width, needs far more food than that. Every action they have taken in the name of their own survival has marked them as scions of dark spirits in the eyes of the karst Kah-Rehm.
They, like most bats, hunt in the night, but where most pluck fruit from trees or snatch prey out of the air, they stalk their prey from far above, not watching with their eyes but with a strange sense that appears to come somewhere deep inside their throats. The Kah-Rehm say it feels like someone poking you with a sound, the clicks felt in the bones before the ears. The bats use these sounds to pinpoint prey with their hearing. When assured of their target, they tuck all four of their wings and dive like an arrow. I’ve seen them do it, young'uns, and let me tell you, I can’t figure out how they are able to move that fast without doing some kind of damage to themselves!
'Course one of two things follows the dive, depending on where their prey is sitting. On the rare flat surfaces, they slam into their prey jaws-first, rolling with the blow and snapping their prey's neck in one sudden moment: a startling, quick, and efficient death and their prime manner of attacking the Laruu.
The other is when they are aimed at prey along the sides of the karsts in which they unfurl their back lower wings to slow their momentum and give them a head start on maneuvering as they dig their claws into the backs of their chosen target and fight to drag them off the sides of the karsts, sending them plummeting to a messy end. Not a quick death by any means, and one of the other reasons the karst Kah-Rehm warn outsiders off their personal trails, as the main roads are heavily warded and patrolled, and while no Yuakaru has been large enough to take down a Kah-Rehm, an adventurous Man or Yaka is another story entire.
Of course, this paints the Yuakaru as a brutal and cruel animal now, doesn’t it? I imagine that is what the Kah-Rehm want others to believe, but in truth, rare are the animals that are cruel, if indeed it is fair to think of them that way. They are simply following their instincts, and for every Yuakaru I saw performing a dread hunt, I saw a handful more caring for their pudgy pups that hide in wicker nests above even where the Kah-Rehm dare go. How I got there is a story for another time, ha! I also saw them dance in pairs and groups, diving and weaving through the air as gracefully as a Kin Spirit-Dancer in the throes of celebration. They played games and collected shiny stones, gave gifts, and shared meals, hunting solo but living communally.
Despite all of this, which I am sure any Kah-Rehm ranger worth their horns knows, they are still the animal most eagerly pursued by the Kah-Rehm, who make cloaks of their wings and adornments of their bones. They can’t even eat the meat but gladly sell it, and I… have opinions about that, none of them polite enough for your young ears.
As I said, Kah-Rehm can become a Protector of a Laruu. To do so is a great challenge, and in some cases, disallowed as it risks endangering the bird more than taboo truly allows. Those that manage it by chance, however, are lauded above all other warriors of the karsts. Oh, to pluck the feather of the bird and return with the freshly slain body of a Yuakaru… I have met one such protector, one horn adorned with the crimson feather of the bird, the other hanging with the lower jaw of the bat, painted obsidian black. Of course, I will tell you that this targeted hunting will only make the bats more keen and more eager to prey on other stock, but if their blessed birds are left be, I doubt the Kah-Rehm will care.
However, they might if their new preferred prey ends up being their main form of livestock.
The Shidu are truly odd-looking animals, nearly a half span at the shoulder with grey skin and shaggy brown-black fur that rings their necks, and while they have six legs like most mammals of our home, the positioning is wrong, with only one pair at the fore and two at the back. What is more, they have large floppy ears, tails akin to a paintbrush, and a nose as long and mobile as any serpent you have ever seen! I see the look on your faces, but I swear by the spirits, Taá and Shimreth herself I speak only the truth.
The Kah-Rehm have domesticated them since before they ever learned that there was land beneath the sea of clouds they walk above most days. They take their fur for clothing and their milk for food, as well as use them to carry goods along the karsts. The domesticates have taken on all manner of curious color patterns—I even saw one that was pink!
The Kah-Rehm that I spoke to about them said that they were former competitors that, over time, they bonded with as they foraged on the same forests and moss mats, and had similar forms of weaponry. See, Shidu also have curling “horns,” though it is more accurate to call them teeth. I know, I know, every word makes these silly beasts sound all the more outlandish, but let me finish, ha! Shidu have tusks, akin to the Bakan, but over time, theirs have changed to grow up and over their heads, forming a dense protective helm of bone that then branches out in a manner akin to the Kah-Rehm’s own horns.
Males use them to clash with each other, headbutting again and again until one of the opponents backs down or, in the rarer case, a tusk breaks. Indeed, males go through a period of heightened aggression, even those that are domesticated, but elder bulls or Kah-Rehm handlers are often able to shake them of these “tantrums” with a swift headbutt of their own. Of course, much of the time, Shidu, even those in the wild, are congenial, herd-focused animals, eager to dole affection not just on their kin or handlers but complete strangers as well, especially the young’uns. On my first time amidst a Shidu herd, I had the babes hanging off every part of my clothing with their articulate, hand-like noses. Oh… did I forget to mention that part? Yeah, they use their nose like a hand, picking up food and objects to play with or throw, and they also drink with it! What… no I am not drunk! Respect your elder, ya little Mori-Mori! Ha, ha!
Now where was— right! Shidu can walk along the sides of the karsts with ease using their curiously adapted feet, and I saw more herds grazing along the sides of the karts than I did amidst the flattened peaks or at the base. In fact, the Shidu do not actually do well in the lands beyond the Karsts. While there were attempts to integrate them when the karst Kah-Rehm first sent folk to join the Caravan, all unfortunately perished within the first few months, leaving their shepherds mournful and hardened by the realities of life in the Desert.
That is not to say the karst Kah-Rehm were unaware of what the Desert could bring them. Once they reached the base of the karsts, they became aware that there was far more room to grow both the crops they favored and those gifted by wandering merchants. However, they also quickly became aware that plenty brought problems down on the ground.
And their biggest problems at the base are the Kumagord, “Thorny Gluttons,” fleet-footed beasts that move in herds that can number in the hundreds. Swift of hoof and lean of build, the heads of these beasts give away their identities: four wide nostrils, a grasping lip and, in this case, six curled horns. In other words, the Kumagord are rhinos.
Now, you might not know this, but even though a few Kumagord have been brought into the Caravan as sturdier scout animals, they are blinder than a person without a guard glass in the noon-day sand. They get around by following their wide noses, which some argue are even keener than the Bakans'! They can smell food and water a day's ride away, and once the lead of the herd scents it, they all turn to charge in that direction, bringing no small amount of trouble to whatever watering hole, oasis or farmstead that has become their target.
While they aren’t as burly as some rhinos, they are more than mean enough to make up for it. They are deceptively sturdy, capable of shrugging off even a Kah-Rehm spear, but that makes sense considering their skin is shaped to face off against six comparable points when they get ornery with each other.
'Course that only happens with a herd on the edge, and a herd only goes on the edge when they lose their matriarch: the biggest, oldest, and often most scarred member of the herd. She is both the leader and the guardian of the heard, squaring off against any antagonists while her herd mates drink or eat their fills. A lot of ruined homes have been brought down by the charge of a matriarch.
I wondered for quite a while how a matriarch survived for as long as she did, as most encounters I observed or was told about mentioned her never drinking or eating a bite for herself.
Turns out, after the herd leaves, with her the last to go, stomping and snorting and making a show to keep any they’ve upset from following them, they huddle down, and each of the herd regurgitates part of their meal for the matriarch, which she greedily consumes. Not a pretty sight, I’ll admit, but fascinating all the same.
Luckily, Kumagord usually only come around every five years or so, though where they are between their sudden and thunderous arrivals, none can say. One would think they would spend most of their time in the bounty of the Stormbloom, but no – they come south to the karsts from somewhere else, and that is where they return to. I would like to hitch a ride one day and see what awaits them.
Yeah, that’s right, catch a ride. More recently, Kah-Rehm have been reporting strange folk riding with the herds, raiders from some border region neighboring the karsts. They captured a herd for their own use, or for the benefit of folk from beyond the known edges of the Desert. It is not certain, but this taught the Kah-Rehm that the Kumagord could be tamed, and a handful of villages have been able to pit partially domesticated matriarchs of their own against oncoming invaders. That said, the raiders are a complete unknown, as they clothe their entire bodies and faces, all in the hide of the Kumagord.
It's just another mystery of the sands, I suppose.
Hmm, I am running low on wood. I will have to stock up soon.
Now, since I talked about one Caravaner homeland, I figure another would be a good way to wrap up the night, yeah?
A Mated Pair of Shidu
