Urkvari
Urkvari are the youngest race, but the gods apparently learned from their mistakes choices with the Hymvari, so the Urkvari are born of beasts, particularly the large and the strong and the dangerous. They have a thick, muscular build with gorilla-long arms, proportionately-short but strong legs, and a face full of horns, tusks, and fangs (the exact arrangement of which varies by population group). Most of them have leathery skin of a primary color (most often brick-red, gem-blue, or swamp-green; less often charcoal-grey, ghost-white, or fire-orange), and many have partial or full pelts of earth-toned fur that obscure their bright colors. They have enormous hands with dense, often-filed-to-a-point fingernails, and their feet are wide and have grasping toes. They are capable of short dashes but are not fast runners in general (they do run on both feet and fists), but their climbing and throwing abilities are second to none. Their physical strength, endurance, and resilience are infamous, as is their innate resistance to arcana and many of the subtler effects of magic that might be used against them.
Urkvari are even shorter-lived than most Hymvari, do not need mana, and frequently do not bother learning to use any magic. They are self-aware and intelligent, but their cultures revolve around their physical reality and their bodies, rather than any philosophy or immaterial pursuits. The elder races frown upon their lack of aspiration even as they pity them for their limited lifespans. Urkvari don’t care, because any Urkvar could best any individual of any other race in single combat, and a horde of Urkvari is an unstoppable nightmare if raised against any other people. Despite their reputation among other kinvari, they are not unthinkingly violent or irrational; rather they are pragmatic realists who evaluate things on a nonmagical scale. (6’ - 7’ average but plenty hit 8’, thicc, average lifespan 65 years)
The voy’Aeldvar narrowed his eyes. “You speak High Aeldvaren well for an Urkvar.” That grating laugh again, like rocks tumbling over each other. “I am here because I do,” the voice replied, a hint of amusement hiding among its coarse texture. Kiandriel relaxed his hand as the pieces fell into place before him. “The local Urkvari asked you to come here to communicate for them, didn’t they?” “Yes,” the gravelly voice replied, “but they said all of you were moony long-ears. You… are not.” Moony long-ears, Kiandriel repeated in his mind, the absurdity of the phrase a stumbling block to his thoughts. “I am special,” he said wryly. “If we are not to be enemies, why don’t you join me in the room? Talking at the darkness is not conducive to a good conversation.” Another growling chuckle. “Are you using rare words to try to trip me, little long-ear? And wouldn’t I frighten you terribly if you saw me?” Kiandriel arched a brow. “I have seen a great many Urkvari in my life,” he said, “and no, I am not trying to trip you. I am, in fact, treating you like I would any other kinvar who spoke to me in High Aeldvaren, which includes an assumption of baseline vocabulary.” Finally, he saw a hint of movement in the deep shadows. A mountain of a kinvar shuffled forward, slowly but utterly silently, until the arcane silver light of the chamber fell upon its face. The Urkvar was thickly-furred like a bear, shaped more like a gorilla with enormously long, tree-thick arms, and had a face that reminded Kiandriel less of any animal and more of an asymmetrical whorl of knotted wood. When it spoke, he could see greasy yellow teeth and one broken fang. “Feel better, little long-ear?” “Yes,” Kiandriel said shortly. “I’d offer you a chair, but I think it’s too small for you.” He studied the Urkvar as it studied him. “What do I call you?” The Urkvar snorted, wide nostrils flaring. “It does not matter to me. You do not have the throat to pronounce my name.” “Well, if you choose no form of address, I’ll have to call you large short-ear,” Kiandriel said, keeping his expression deadpan. The Urkvar bellowed a laugh at an alarming volume that sent Gingersnap scrambling back towards Kiandriel, her tail tucked low. “Clever mouth, little long-ear.” It lowered itself to a seated position near the entrance, its short hind legs sticking straight out as a bear would sit. “Are you here to renegotiate the agreement between the lun'Aeldvari and the Urkvari?” Kiandriel asked, settling himself in the empty chair. “No,” the Urkvar said slowly. “I am here to clarify it.” That’s vaguely ominous, Kiandriel thought dourly to himself. “Very well,” he replied. “One of the lun’Aeldvari will be here shortly and will be able to discuss it with you.” “Not you, special little long-ear?” Kiandriel smiled with teeth and no mirth, his eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid negotiation is not my particular specialty.” The Urkvar grunted, dragged one of its enormous hands from the ground and slowly stretched out its fingers, each as thick as Kiandriel’s wrist. It repeated the motion with the other hand, then rested them both with almost comical pacifism in its lap. “You smell of fear, little long-ear, but I will not eat you.” “That’s very kind of you,” Kiandriel said dryly. “You were truthful when you said conversation is not your strength,” the Urkvar remarked, growling another low laugh.
The voy’Aeldvar narrowed his eyes. “You speak High Aeldvaren well for an Urkvar.” That grating laugh again, like rocks tumbling over each other. “I am here because I do,” the voice replied, a hint of amusement hiding among its coarse texture. Kiandriel relaxed his hand as the pieces fell into place before him. “The local Urkvari asked you to come here to communicate for them, didn’t they?” “Yes,” the gravelly voice replied, “but they said all of you were moony long-ears. You… are not.” Moony long-ears, Kiandriel repeated in his mind, the absurdity of the phrase a stumbling block to his thoughts. “I am special,” he said wryly. “If we are not to be enemies, why don’t you join me in the room? Talking at the darkness is not conducive to a good conversation.” Another growling chuckle. “Are you using rare words to try to trip me, little long-ear? And wouldn’t I frighten you terribly if you saw me?” Kiandriel arched a brow. “I have seen a great many Urkvari in my life,” he said, “and no, I am not trying to trip you. I am, in fact, treating you like I would any other kinvar who spoke to me in High Aeldvaren, which includes an assumption of baseline vocabulary.” Finally, he saw a hint of movement in the deep shadows. A mountain of a kinvar shuffled forward, slowly but utterly silently, until the arcane silver light of the chamber fell upon its face. The Urkvar was thickly-furred like a bear, shaped more like a gorilla with enormously long, tree-thick arms, and had a face that reminded Kiandriel less of any animal and more of an asymmetrical whorl of knotted wood. When it spoke, he could see greasy yellow teeth and one broken fang. “Feel better, little long-ear?” “Yes,” Kiandriel said shortly. “I’d offer you a chair, but I think it’s too small for you.” He studied the Urkvar as it studied him. “What do I call you?” The Urkvar snorted, wide nostrils flaring. “It does not matter to me. You do not have the throat to pronounce my name.” “Well, if you choose no form of address, I’ll have to call you large short-ear,” Kiandriel said, keeping his expression deadpan. The Urkvar bellowed a laugh at an alarming volume that sent Gingersnap scrambling back towards Kiandriel, her tail tucked low. “Clever mouth, little long-ear.” It lowered itself to a seated position near the entrance, its short hind legs sticking straight out as a bear would sit. “Are you here to renegotiate the agreement between the lun'Aeldvari and the Urkvari?” Kiandriel asked, settling himself in the empty chair. “No,” the Urkvar said slowly. “I am here to clarify it.” That’s vaguely ominous, Kiandriel thought dourly to himself. “Very well,” he replied. “One of the lun’Aeldvari will be here shortly and will be able to discuss it with you.” “Not you, special little long-ear?” Kiandriel smiled with teeth and no mirth, his eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid negotiation is not my particular specialty.” The Urkvar grunted, dragged one of its enormous hands from the ground and slowly stretched out its fingers, each as thick as Kiandriel’s wrist. It repeated the motion with the other hand, then rested them both with almost comical pacifism in its lap. “You smell of fear, little long-ear, but I will not eat you.” “That’s very kind of you,” Kiandriel said dryly. “You were truthful when you said conversation is not your strength,” the Urkvar remarked, growling another low laugh.
Civilization and Culture
Interspecies Relations and Assumptions
Urkvari understand that Aeldvari have an enormous magical advantage over them, but they simply don’t care. Their own anima is fairly resistant to arcana effects, including damage. They acknowledge the Aeldvari as kinvari, fellow people, but make little effort to form any kind of lasting relationships with them. Aeldvari are not interesting to Urkvari. (The exception to this are wild elves, who are pretty much the only Aeldvari that Urkvari can respect and interact with.)
Urkvari take a much keener interest in Duovari, much to the Duovari’s chagrin. Though Urkvari don’t have any of the urge for craftsmanship that sets Duovari apart, they find it fascinating to witness (both the production of and the end result). Urkvari tend to like Duovari and are often found near Duovaren settlements, despite the Duovari often trying to avoid having Urkvari too close.
Urkvari are mostly just confused by Hymvari, in much the same way as a pug would confuse a wolf. Hymvari are the only prime race to really engage in warfare, which may affect some Urkvari and elicit a violent territorial response, but otherwise Urkvari mostly ignore Hymvari unless they encroach on Urkvari hunting grounds or dens.
Urkvari have next-to-no interactions with Nagvari.
Scientific Name
Kinvari orcneas
Lifespan
65 years
Average Height
6-7'
Comments