Kellid
Though they once ranged across all of Avistan, Kellid clans now live primarily in the north of Avistan, on the tundras and steppes that stretch from Numeria to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. Kellids are typically tall and wiry, with light-brown skin often tanned by the elements, and dark-brown or black hair that is prone to graying at an early age. Many Kellids live in nomadic clans that follow the megafauna of their homeland, as they have for millennia. Living so close to the Worldwound and the witches of Irrisen has given Kellids a well-founded distrust of outsiders in general and of magic in particular.
The harsh, rugged northlands of Avistan have shaped an equally harsh, rugged people who roam its hills and tundra. At once iron-willed and adaptive, Kellid clans must fight for survival every day—and most embrace the challenge. Watchful and wary, Kellids distrust unfamiliar magic and advanced technology. Other cultures label Kellids as superstitious, but Kellids see their inherent suspicion as wisdom. Tales of ignoble deaths from aberrant sorcery or ancient machinery convinced them long ago of the prudence in their traditional, time-honored ways of life.
Kellids show little concern for the trappings of civilization. They fiercely defend their clan mates and exhibit a strong sense of personal honor. Outlanders must work hard to earn the respect of a Kellid clan, relying on feats of strength or demonstrations of practical insight rather than cunning or sorcery.
Most Kellids live in northern Avistan and follow seasonal migrations of megafauna, but some, such as the city-dwelling followers of the Black Sovereign in Numeria, live in permanent settlements. Even those who abandon the subsistence-level existence of their harsh homelands tend to hold arcane matters, settled life, and advanced technology in low regard, often sharing pragmatic, survivaloriented mind-sets and ancient, animistic worldviews.
Kellid life emphasizes a fluid acceptance of what the world offers rather than efforts to shape it. If the land does not provide sustenance for a Kellid clan, they do not farm it in an attempt to reap benefits it cannot safely offer; they instead move on to an area that can afford to share its bounty. Practical and nomadic, Kellids often cede portions of their territories to encroaching civilizations, preferring to move on rather than spend their blood to buy back a spit of dirt they may use for only a few weeks each year. Kellids have interacted with almost every other major culture on Avistan. Yet their worldview remains unchanged, not out of stubbornness or hidebound adherence to tradition, but simply because other cultures’ understanding of ownership, governance, religion, and history seem so alien from their own. Kellid life revolves around the clan, and most recognize clan names—both their own and others’—more readily than given names. Kellid children learn from a young age that each member of their clan owes responsibilities to the others and to the world at large, and that failing in their duties can cost lives. They learn to admire strength and survival instincts, but that merely enduring does not ensure that their clan thrives. The small size and practicality of most clans lead many Kellids to find the concept of government baff ling. Clan elders might make decisions for the entire clan, and may occasionally preempt the judgment of those with less status. It’s generally accepted that, as elders gained their own status through strength, wisdom, and other virtues, it is only good sense to follow their lead. The idea of hereditary or elected rulers, rather than the sort of de facto leadership needed for the clan to survive, strikes most Kellids as arbitrary and ridiculous.
Kellids live in a world of spirits, seeing a spark of divinity in almost everything they encounter. Many do not distinguish between inanimate objects, natural forces, and living creatures, believing that all things have an essence that, if not precisely sentient, is at least conscious. By extension, this belief in a vibrant and living world of spirits blurs the distinction between the sacred and the mundane. To a Kellid, taking the time to honor the spirit of the mountain upon which she treads and the elk she hunts is no more or less mundane than packing food for the journey and checking to ensure her equipment is well maintained. Most Kellids do not view any one force as more worthy of reverence than any other, though a prudent Kellid takes care to placate the more powerful ones. Many clans revere a specific clan god, though as with all aspects of their spirituality, what Kellids define as a god may not align precisely with a non-Kellid’s understanding of the term. Kellids in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords may believe the herd of aurochs they follow has a collective spirit that watches over their clan, while the god-callers of Sarkoris once brought forth eidolons that their clans adopted as patron deities. Other tribes reinterpret deities popular throughout the Inner Sea region into uniquely Kellid forms, describing them as animals or landmarks important to clan life, or even interpreting a given mountain or river to be one of the world’s gods.
The Kellid approach to spirituality brings with it a host of superstitions, for if everything is conscious, any action has the potential to draw the attention of spirits—or offend them. Every clan expects its members to commit its history and legends to memory. Most can recite these epic tales perfectly, along with an almanac’s worth of information about flora, fauna, the seasons, and the propitiation of local spirits. The Kellids’ distinctive form of animism also results in a remarkable and highly idiosyncratic approach to magic: they understand it as simply another of the myriad natural energies that form the complex and interconnected web that is reality, and question attempts to impose control upon it. Thus, Kellids tend to use magic only within a spiritual context, though this still includes arcane casters like witches and summoners. They see magic users as channels for numinous forces that ultimately reject being studied or forced into a rigorous structure.
Privation and famine lead some Kellids to reject their cultural understanding of the balance of nature and their place in it, turning them to the worship of darker gods, whom they embrace with blatant, violent fervor. Rovagug has a large following among Kellids who see brute violence as the solution to life’s unceasing hardships. Kellids tainted by the Worldwound often venerate demon lords such as Deskari in exchange for promises of might.
Sarkorian tradition held that a patron spirit protected each clan. Those most receptive to the clan’s spirit could call it into a physical form as a companion and advisor. Although Sarkoris is gone, many Kellid summoners continue to follow this tradition.
Even urban-dwelling Kellids keep useful possessions on hand at all times, often in a well-worn backpack. A Kellid’s home is often sparsely furnished but contains caches of food, blankets, and weapons tucked away for emergencies. No matter how long she has inhabited her home, she remains prepared to abandon it immediately if necessary. Trained to expect danger at any time, Kellids dread going anywhere unarmed.
Kellids in Numeria harbor particularly strong suspicions about technology. Accidental activations of deadly automatons and radioactive bombs are themes in Numerian lore, as was brutal oppression by the technology-wielding Technic League. Thus, most Numerian Kellids eschew any technology more advanced than a bow. One exception that has proven harmless (thus far) is the use of Numeria’s etched silver discs as currency. If a Kellid tribe spies unusual lights, a half-buried plate of skymetal, or a herd of animals acting oddly, they simply move on and allow any danger that may have manifested from careless investigation to recede into the horizon.
Kellid tribes tend to view all non-Kellids with equal suspicion; after all, many sly monsters can assume a human shape. Those who persist in befriending the insular tribespeople and display open honesty—and, even better, significant battle prowess or survival skills—eventually receive a stoic welcome. When a Kellid clan eventually welcomes a non-Kellid, they form bonds as strong as family. The Kellid giant-tamers of Hillcross adopt frost giant orphans and raise them alongside their own children, for example. Occasionally, entire non-Kellid settlements, such as the Numerian town of Iadenveigh and the Tian-Shu trading post of Icestair in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, forge good relations with nomadic Kellid neighbors.
On an individual basis, Kellids appreciate the hardy nature of dwarves and the rugged practicality of the Ulfen, but they are often initially dismissive of individuals of other races. Gnomes and halflings appear too small to contribute meaningfully to a tribe, and elves and half-elves seem too delicate to survive in frigid climates. Kellids share varied relations with the brutal Belkzen orcs with whom they often compete for scarce resources, sharing borders and occasionally half-blooded progeny.
In an adventuring party, a Kellid balks at complex plans or reliance on magic, and often chafes under the leadership of anyone lacking the sort of wisdom or strength that makes it obvious that others should follow him. Kellids have learned to be brave in the face of enormous or unnatural foes and display a forthright honor and blunt courtesy toward their allies, defending friends from any threat as fiercely as they would their own families. They often make good leaders, especially if they come to see their companions as an adopted clan.
Whether or not a Kellid stands as a party’s leader, she recognizes the interdependence necessary for a group to function in potentially hostile territory, and gruffly ensures that her companions’ basic needs are met. Those who fail to heed her warnings about coming storms or local wildlife soon find themselves regretting that inattention or lack of trust, for a Kellid does not like to repeat herself and doesn’t waste time trying to convince people who are too foolish to listen to her warnings. Kellids do not often volunteer information about their culture, not out of any sense of secrecy, but because they see the wisdom of their people as simple common sense. They stop short of implying that other cultures lack this basic understanding of how the world works, but should an adventuring companion explicitly ask for tutelage in survival skills, a Kellid usually proves an adept—if uncompromising—teacher.
The harsh, rugged northlands of Avistan have shaped an equally harsh, rugged people who roam its hills and tundra. At once iron-willed and adaptive, Kellid clans must fight for survival every day—and most embrace the challenge. Watchful and wary, Kellids distrust unfamiliar magic and advanced technology. Other cultures label Kellids as superstitious, but Kellids see their inherent suspicion as wisdom. Tales of ignoble deaths from aberrant sorcery or ancient machinery convinced them long ago of the prudence in their traditional, time-honored ways of life.
Kellids show little concern for the trappings of civilization. They fiercely defend their clan mates and exhibit a strong sense of personal honor. Outlanders must work hard to earn the respect of a Kellid clan, relying on feats of strength or demonstrations of practical insight rather than cunning or sorcery.
Most Kellids live in northern Avistan and follow seasonal migrations of megafauna, but some, such as the city-dwelling followers of the Black Sovereign in Numeria, live in permanent settlements. Even those who abandon the subsistence-level existence of their harsh homelands tend to hold arcane matters, settled life, and advanced technology in low regard, often sharing pragmatic, survivaloriented mind-sets and ancient, animistic worldviews.
Appearance
The Kellids’ rugged lifestyle shapes their features, making their naturally light brown skin deeply tanned and weathered from a life outdoors. Their dark hair may gray early or bear streaks lightened by the sun. Most Kellids grow little facial hair, with full beards especially uncommon. Their eyes range from dark brown to dark green, with hazel or blue eyes considered evidence of the spirits’ favor or prophetic insight. Being hunters and wanderers, most Kellids are muscular and compact; the fragile do not long survive carrying everything they own on foot across hundreds of miles. Kellids put on body fat almost as readily as they shed it, and suffer days of deprivation with little complaint. Many bear scars or missing digits, each a testament to a desperate battle, an encounter with dangerous wildlife, or frostbite from a sudden cold snap.Naming
Kellid feminine names include Belka, Dafur, and Jalket; masculine names include Dron, Kronug, and Zoresk; and gender-neutral names include Aeld, Neflhun, and Roan. Few Kellids bother with surnames, though a clan name can substitute, and prominent or far-traveling Kellids sometimes adopt titles such as Beast-Stalker or Snow Mane.Society
Kellids originally occupied most of Avistan. Their culture was already ancient by the advent of the Age of Destiny, and it would be folly to confuse their rustic traditions with inferiority. They recall ancient empires and conquerors in their oral traditions, passing on warnings against the arrogance and blindness that doomed past human cultures. Their understanding of the delicate balance of natural forces is exquisitely calibrated and highly advanced. They distrust many forms of magic and technology not because they lack the capacity to comprehend them, but because they believe that human minds fail to comprehend all the potential consequences of compelling raw power to serve mortal whims. To attempt to do so, Kellids believe, is to risk disasters that may not even manifest in one’s own lifetime, saddling future generations with the fallout of their long-passed ancestors’ mistakes.Kellid life emphasizes a fluid acceptance of what the world offers rather than efforts to shape it. If the land does not provide sustenance for a Kellid clan, they do not farm it in an attempt to reap benefits it cannot safely offer; they instead move on to an area that can afford to share its bounty. Practical and nomadic, Kellids often cede portions of their territories to encroaching civilizations, preferring to move on rather than spend their blood to buy back a spit of dirt they may use for only a few weeks each year. Kellids have interacted with almost every other major culture on Avistan. Yet their worldview remains unchanged, not out of stubbornness or hidebound adherence to tradition, but simply because other cultures’ understanding of ownership, governance, religion, and history seem so alien from their own. Kellid life revolves around the clan, and most recognize clan names—both their own and others’—more readily than given names. Kellid children learn from a young age that each member of their clan owes responsibilities to the others and to the world at large, and that failing in their duties can cost lives. They learn to admire strength and survival instincts, but that merely enduring does not ensure that their clan thrives. The small size and practicality of most clans lead many Kellids to find the concept of government baff ling. Clan elders might make decisions for the entire clan, and may occasionally preempt the judgment of those with less status. It’s generally accepted that, as elders gained their own status through strength, wisdom, and other virtues, it is only good sense to follow their lead. The idea of hereditary or elected rulers, rather than the sort of de facto leadership needed for the clan to survive, strikes most Kellids as arbitrary and ridiculous.
Kellids live in a world of spirits, seeing a spark of divinity in almost everything they encounter. Many do not distinguish between inanimate objects, natural forces, and living creatures, believing that all things have an essence that, if not precisely sentient, is at least conscious. By extension, this belief in a vibrant and living world of spirits blurs the distinction between the sacred and the mundane. To a Kellid, taking the time to honor the spirit of the mountain upon which she treads and the elk she hunts is no more or less mundane than packing food for the journey and checking to ensure her equipment is well maintained. Most Kellids do not view any one force as more worthy of reverence than any other, though a prudent Kellid takes care to placate the more powerful ones. Many clans revere a specific clan god, though as with all aspects of their spirituality, what Kellids define as a god may not align precisely with a non-Kellid’s understanding of the term. Kellids in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords may believe the herd of aurochs they follow has a collective spirit that watches over their clan, while the god-callers of Sarkoris once brought forth eidolons that their clans adopted as patron deities. Other tribes reinterpret deities popular throughout the Inner Sea region into uniquely Kellid forms, describing them as animals or landmarks important to clan life, or even interpreting a given mountain or river to be one of the world’s gods.
The Kellid approach to spirituality brings with it a host of superstitions, for if everything is conscious, any action has the potential to draw the attention of spirits—or offend them. Every clan expects its members to commit its history and legends to memory. Most can recite these epic tales perfectly, along with an almanac’s worth of information about flora, fauna, the seasons, and the propitiation of local spirits. The Kellids’ distinctive form of animism also results in a remarkable and highly idiosyncratic approach to magic: they understand it as simply another of the myriad natural energies that form the complex and interconnected web that is reality, and question attempts to impose control upon it. Thus, Kellids tend to use magic only within a spiritual context, though this still includes arcane casters like witches and summoners. They see magic users as channels for numinous forces that ultimately reject being studied or forced into a rigorous structure.
Faith
Kellids do not view their faith as distinct from any other aspect of their culture, and do not generally distinguish between gods and other natural forces. The closest analogue to their spirituality is probably the Green Faith, and druids are common among their clans. Kellid practitioners often interpret so-called “secular” magic— such as arcane blood flowing from otherworldly ancestors or the calling of powerful eidolons—in a spiritual context. Contact with other cultures has led Kellid clans to revere some of the southlanders’ gods, integrating these deities into the themes important to their culture. For example, Kellid life depends heavily on migratory herd animals, so they depict Desna as a sturdy Kellid woman riding a majestic elk. Kellids celebrate courage and strength in battle and describe Gorum as a muscled Kellid war leader.Privation and famine lead some Kellids to reject their cultural understanding of the balance of nature and their place in it, turning them to the worship of darker gods, whom they embrace with blatant, violent fervor. Rovagug has a large following among Kellids who see brute violence as the solution to life’s unceasing hardships. Kellids tainted by the Worldwound often venerate demon lords such as Deskari in exchange for promises of might.
Culture
Everywhere the Kellid people have roamed, danger has followed. In their hardscrabble lives, carelessness kills, so they embrace suspicious watchfulness, develop necessary survival skills, and instill insular traditions in generation after generation. Kellids ascribe their continued survival to living in harmony with the land, and in particular with the invisible spirits who share the land and make their pleasure or displeasure known through omens and portents.Spirits and Superstition
Although spirits cannot normally be seen, Kellids watch for omens or portents indicating the spirits’ moods and desires. Unhappy spirits manifest as ill luck, so placating capricious beings or forces with simple offerings makes good sense, particularly during a dangerous or important enterprise. The surest way to anger a spirit is to be rude in its presence, and so Kellids quickly show compassion to anyone—even enemies—in adversity; a Kellid who refuses to aid an enemy suffering in a storm may enrage the storm’s spirit.Sarkorian tradition held that a patron spirit protected each clan. Those most receptive to the clan’s spirit could call it into a physical form as a companion and advisor. Although Sarkoris is gone, many Kellid summoners continue to follow this tradition.
Survivalists
Kellids learn a variety of survival skills by sheer necessity, and can find water, food, and shelter in badlands or tundra where outlanders see only a barren expanse. They use as much of a killed animal as possible, wearing the pelt, carving the bones into tools, rendering the fat into fuel and medicine, and preserving the meat they cannot immediately eat. Some Kellids extend this efficiency to their activity as well, resting to conserve energy before bursting into a flurry of action to run down an animal or dart into a bolt-hole to avoid a predator.Even urban-dwelling Kellids keep useful possessions on hand at all times, often in a well-worn backpack. A Kellid’s home is often sparsely furnished but contains caches of food, blankets, and weapons tucked away for emergencies. No matter how long she has inhabited her home, she remains prepared to abandon it immediately if necessary. Trained to expect danger at any time, Kellids dread going anywhere unarmed.
Wariness
Kellids have survived for countless generations because of their understanding of the natural world and their caution. Although a rampaging mammoth or howling storm may claim many lives, Kellids also see their people felled by many subtle, insidious dangers as well. In the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, attractive plants can be highly toxic; in Numeria, an innocent-looking pool can emit lethal gasses or detonate with a cataclysmic explosion. The greatest betrayal the Kellids have experienced was in Sarkoris, when the land itself betrayed reality and split into the Worldwound. Therefore, Kellids remain wary of the unfamiliar, keenly aware that an innocuous appearance can veil a hidden danger.Kellids in Numeria harbor particularly strong suspicions about technology. Accidental activations of deadly automatons and radioactive bombs are themes in Numerian lore, as was brutal oppression by the technology-wielding Technic League. Thus, most Numerian Kellids eschew any technology more advanced than a bow. One exception that has proven harmless (thus far) is the use of Numeria’s etched silver discs as currency. If a Kellid tribe spies unusual lights, a half-buried plate of skymetal, or a herd of animals acting oddly, they simply move on and allow any danger that may have manifested from careless investigation to recede into the horizon.
Relations
Most of the other cultures of the Inner Sea region view Kellids with a mixture of condescension and caution, seeing them as dangerous barbarians unable and unwilling to maintain their own civilization. Kellids keep to their own clans and followings because friendly neighbors are rare. Even within the harsh lands they roam, Kellids recognize few allies. Kellid clans compete with each other for scarce resources and fight each other to earn prestige. Kellids distrust most forms of magic, and so they shun visitors who rely on casting to fight the elements and dangerous beasts.Kellid tribes tend to view all non-Kellids with equal suspicion; after all, many sly monsters can assume a human shape. Those who persist in befriending the insular tribespeople and display open honesty—and, even better, significant battle prowess or survival skills—eventually receive a stoic welcome. When a Kellid clan eventually welcomes a non-Kellid, they form bonds as strong as family. The Kellid giant-tamers of Hillcross adopt frost giant orphans and raise them alongside their own children, for example. Occasionally, entire non-Kellid settlements, such as the Numerian town of Iadenveigh and the Tian-Shu trading post of Icestair in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, forge good relations with nomadic Kellid neighbors.
On an individual basis, Kellids appreciate the hardy nature of dwarves and the rugged practicality of the Ulfen, but they are often initially dismissive of individuals of other races. Gnomes and halflings appear too small to contribute meaningfully to a tribe, and elves and half-elves seem too delicate to survive in frigid climates. Kellids share varied relations with the brutal Belkzen orcs with whom they often compete for scarce resources, sharing borders and occasionally half-blooded progeny.
Adventurers
Kellid clans admire bravery, so long as it does not endanger the clan, and many Kellids seek to outdo each other in feats of brawn or courage. As a result, Kellids excel as adventurers—many having already engaged in daring endeavors throughout their entire lives.In an adventuring party, a Kellid balks at complex plans or reliance on magic, and often chafes under the leadership of anyone lacking the sort of wisdom or strength that makes it obvious that others should follow him. Kellids have learned to be brave in the face of enormous or unnatural foes and display a forthright honor and blunt courtesy toward their allies, defending friends from any threat as fiercely as they would their own families. They often make good leaders, especially if they come to see their companions as an adopted clan.
Whether or not a Kellid stands as a party’s leader, she recognizes the interdependence necessary for a group to function in potentially hostile territory, and gruffly ensures that her companions’ basic needs are met. Those who fail to heed her warnings about coming storms or local wildlife soon find themselves regretting that inattention or lack of trust, for a Kellid does not like to repeat herself and doesn’t waste time trying to convince people who are too foolish to listen to her warnings. Kellids do not often volunteer information about their culture, not out of any sense of secrecy, but because they see the wisdom of their people as simple common sense. They stop short of implying that other cultures lack this basic understanding of how the world works, but should an adventuring companion explicitly ask for tutelage in survival skills, a Kellid usually proves an adept—if uncompromising—teacher.
Where on Golarion?
Once, Kellids roamed much of Avistan, and their cairns can be found as far south as Andoran and Nidal and as far east as the Stolen Lands in the River Kingdoms. Pushed north by expansionist settlers, Kellids now dominate three shrinking regions.Kellid tribes make seasonal peregrinations across the frigid mountains and tundra of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, hunting the great herds of megafauna that supply most of their food, clothing, and weaponry.
Sarkoris was once a land of harsh beauty. A century ago, the central plateau split like overripe fruit, spilling forth legions of demons from the Worldwound. The few Kellids who live in the Worldwound today are often violent cultists or slaves of demonic masters.
Kellids have long occupied Numeria, where the tribes established permanent settlements. They share their land with immigrants from other lands, such as the sorcerous Technic League. Few would call the Numerians welcoming, but they are the most cosmopolitan of the Kellid people.
Additionally, the ancestors of lost Kellid clans can be found scattered across Brevoy and Ustalav.
Encompassed species
Related Organizations
Playing a Kellid
Clad in animal furs and defying the dangers of their harsh environment, the Kellids wander the cruel, cold mountains and tundra of northern Avistan.If you’re Kellid, you likely:
- Made your own clothes or know the person who made them.
- Believe that everything around you has a spirit or touches the supernatural world in some way.
- Were taught from a young age to survive in the wild.
- Take great pride in your clan’s strength and your position within it.
- Are close to your immediate family and feel a strong sense of obligation to your clan.
- Assume most non-Kellids are weak in spirit and body.
- Assume you are a barbarian or a grizzled survivalist.
- Think your faith is mere superstition and your knowledge of the natural world is akin to campfire tales.
- Believe you are an expert on tracking, hunting, and finding shelter in the wild.
- Fear that you have a violent temper that could explode at the slightest provocation.
- Suspect you devoutly worship nature or some strange or forgotten being.
- Expect that you will likely be uncomfortable and impatient in the presence of luxury and sophistication.
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