- Pronouns
- He/Him, They/Them
“My friends, at this time in this letter I’m afraid I must devote some time to a race of avians that, unlike the noble and wise Aarakocra, or the unfortunate and blighted Stormlanders, are truly amongst the most foul and deviant races of all those allegedly possessing intelligence. I speak, of course, of the Kenku, who are in truth much closer to mindless apes than even the Arkians - at least their tails have their uses as belts, after all. The Kenku, however, possess neither intelligence, nor wisdom, nor charisma, nor strength, nor imagination nor discipline nor efficiency, nor obedience, nor wittiness, nor courage, nor cunning and indeed, were it not for their ability to imitate actual people, they would have no use except perhaps as fodder, either for our enemies or our animals.
The Kenku, so the legend goes, brought this upon themselves. Originally, more ages ago than even Sarloth can remember, the Kenku flew amongst the spirits and other races blessed with natural flight. They also possessed, so the stories say, the greatest song of all the avian races, and a talent at crafts that was near-dwarflike. Exaggerations, I am sure, dear friends, as no great work of the Kenku survives to this day that has been found. These abilities, as befits an advanced and talented race, made the Kenku confident and prominent in the area that one day would become known as the Ux Martivir and they were beloved of the gods.
Or one god, in particular. She survives to this day, known as Nin-an, the goddess of war, beauty and love in the nation of Kikirizalid. She still personifies as an Avian woman, though not much like the Kenku at all, who possess none of the handsomeness or beauty of the divine, or even of an actual bird. Nin-an lived amongst the Kenku and they worshipped her, for a time. But the prominence of the Kenku made them arrogant, and cold, and so they transgressed against her. No account survives of what exactly the Kenku did to Nin-an, but it is said she once possessed an aspect of divine justice, and that aspect became, for a time, divine vengeance.
And it was vengeance she meted out to the Kenku. For their transgressions against her person, she took their wings, so that they might never again reach her nor experience flight. For their arrogant words, she took their song and indeed their voice, now they rely upon mimicry. For their scheming against her, she took away their ability with the crafts, and with creativity itself, again forcing them to rely upon the mimicry of others.
The punishment she meted out to the Kenku was surely deserved, friends, for the gods would never be so pernicious as to take these abilities away from an entire race of people. So hold your sympathy for the Kenku, for they surely deserve their lot at the bottom of our society. And now, I shall return to the matter at hand….”
Caerwyn Village
The Anialdir
Many Years Ago…
It was not often that Caerwyn village saw wanderers or strangers in recent times. War in the east had seen much of the Ux’s internal trade rerouted towards the front lines, and the trade embargo on the Thirteen Realms had withered away much of what was left. And so villages like Caerwyn found themselves feeling hard times.
In hard times, so conventional wisdom goes, people react in one of two ways. The first, and most often seen in the rural towns and villages of the Anialdir region of the Ux and other regions like it, is people coming together, pooling resources and helping each other to get by. Ever had it been thus.
The second reaction people could choose, was cruelty and selfishness. Meanness of means often meant meanness of spirit to these people and they didn’t waste any time in exercising their will in Caerwyn, for Caerwyn was relatively unique in Anialdir, for it was home to a kenku.
kenku were indeed quite rare outside of the great walled towns and cities of the Ux Martivir. Indeed, one was more likely to find a Dwarf or even a Khenra amidst the much more numerous Genasi or Tortles or Leonin that made up the bulk of the population.
This particular kenku went by the name of rattler, though whether that was a name the people of Caerwyn had given it or one it had given itself was a matter of some discussion. rattler mostly worked in and around the village farms, either in the fields themselves or as a trapper, having been taught by a passing master during more prosperous times.
As trade dried up and times got harder, rattler was one of the first to lose its place as an employed worker, and as the crueler residents of Caerwyn came to the fore, it found itself the target of ridicule and ire. Some encouraged kindness, in their own way. They wouldn’t ever publicly stick up for rattler, but its wounds were patched up and it was given some menial tasks to enable it to get by.
But one day a particularly cruel trio of Genasi asked rattler to help them out on their farm. rattler, needing work just as much as anyone else, agreed and followed them. And it was whilst rattler was doing this “work” that something not seen for some time in Caerwyn occurred.
The old man who found himself walking down the road past this particular farm was as haggard as one might expect an itinerant wanderer to be. He wore no shoes and was covered by a tattered blue cloak over a simple tunic of green. The old man trudged forwards at a steady pace, until his eye was taken by something in the nearby field.
He stopped and checked himself, perhaps fearful of having caught the heat of the midday sun at the height of summer, then ducked underneath the top and middle parts of the fence that separated the farm from the road. He approached a nearby scarecrow, muttering to himself.
“The Gods. The Gods themselves must be testing my patience. Who or more accurately, what kind of person could do this to you?”
The old man was addressing the scarecrow, for strung up upon it was rattler, who looked exhausted and upset, understandably. The old man shook his head in disbelief, and began the work of taking the unfortunate kenku down. He was in the process of doing so when the would-be rescuer was interrupted by a shout from across the field. All three of the Genasi who had offered rattler work were running over to them. The old man shook his head again and continued to work as they arrived.
“What the hells do you think you’re doing, stranger?” One of the Genasi asked.
The old man didn’t look at them, continuing to untie the kenku as he replied. “There appears to have been a mistake. Your ‘scarecrow’ seems to be a person.”
The lead genasi, a hulking bronze-coloured youth, snorted. “That’s our scarecrow. And what better thing to scare off the crows, than a big crow?”
Another, an air genasi, chimed in. “Hey we offered it work and the kenku was dumb enough to accept without asking what we wanted. it let us put it up there.”
The old man said no more, and was almost finished untying the kenku when the bronze Genasi grabbed the mans arm and started to speak. “Stop untyin-!” The Genasi suddenly flew backwards as the old man had grabbed the arm grabbing his, swung his much younger assailant around and threw him back towards his fellows.
Chaos immediately broke out as the two other Genasi lept in action. The air Genasi tried to knock the old man off his feet, but with deft movement the gust of air sent towards him swirled around him and was directed back towards his partner, an onrushing earth Genasi.
The gust impeded his progress but didn’t stop him, so the old man took two steps towards the charging earth Genasi to close the gap, and felled him with a kick directly to the chest. Before he could follow up the other two were quickly on him and soon all three were attempting to grab or assault the old man, who dodged or deflected most of their attacks, slipping between and around them.
It wasn’t a particularly long fight as the Genasi tired, the old man barely showing any fatigue as he tripped the bronze Genasi into the air Genasi. Taking on three opponents, even ones much less skilled than you, does leave open the opportunity for mistakes or bad luck to give them an opening.
The earth Genasi managed to grab the old man though just as it seemed like the fight might be over, the earth Genasi suddenly let go and with a shout of pain grabbed his ear. The old man turned and looked, seeing that a not insignificant amount of blood was pouring from a freshly opened wound on it.
The other two Genasi forgot the fight and ran to their fellow. Several feet away, blood on its beak and freed from its predicament, stood rattler. The old man tutted and hurried the kenku away before the Genasi recovered, setting off along the road out of the village.
The Kenku, so the legend goes, brought this upon themselves. Originally, more ages ago than even Sarloth can remember, the Kenku flew amongst the spirits and other races blessed with natural flight. They also possessed, so the stories say, the greatest song of all the avian races, and a talent at crafts that was near-dwarflike. Exaggerations, I am sure, dear friends, as no great work of the Kenku survives to this day that has been found. These abilities, as befits an advanced and talented race, made the Kenku confident and prominent in the area that one day would become known as the Ux Martivir and they were beloved of the gods.
Or one god, in particular. She survives to this day, known as Nin-an, the goddess of war, beauty and love in the nation of Kikirizalid. She still personifies as an Avian woman, though not much like the Kenku at all, who possess none of the handsomeness or beauty of the divine, or even of an actual bird. Nin-an lived amongst the Kenku and they worshipped her, for a time. But the prominence of the Kenku made them arrogant, and cold, and so they transgressed against her. No account survives of what exactly the Kenku did to Nin-an, but it is said she once possessed an aspect of divine justice, and that aspect became, for a time, divine vengeance.
And it was vengeance she meted out to the Kenku. For their transgressions against her person, she took their wings, so that they might never again reach her nor experience flight. For their arrogant words, she took their song and indeed their voice, now they rely upon mimicry. For their scheming against her, she took away their ability with the crafts, and with creativity itself, again forcing them to rely upon the mimicry of others.
The punishment she meted out to the Kenku was surely deserved, friends, for the gods would never be so pernicious as to take these abilities away from an entire race of people. So hold your sympathy for the Kenku, for they surely deserve their lot at the bottom of our society. And now, I shall return to the matter at hand….”
Caerwyn Village
The Anialdir
Many Years Ago…
It was not often that Caerwyn village saw wanderers or strangers in recent times. War in the east had seen much of the Ux’s internal trade rerouted towards the front lines, and the trade embargo on the Thirteen Realms had withered away much of what was left. And so villages like Caerwyn found themselves feeling hard times.
In hard times, so conventional wisdom goes, people react in one of two ways. The first, and most often seen in the rural towns and villages of the Anialdir region of the Ux and other regions like it, is people coming together, pooling resources and helping each other to get by. Ever had it been thus.
The second reaction people could choose, was cruelty and selfishness. Meanness of means often meant meanness of spirit to these people and they didn’t waste any time in exercising their will in Caerwyn, for Caerwyn was relatively unique in Anialdir, for it was home to a kenku.
kenku were indeed quite rare outside of the great walled towns and cities of the Ux Martivir. Indeed, one was more likely to find a Dwarf or even a Khenra amidst the much more numerous Genasi or Tortles or Leonin that made up the bulk of the population.
This particular kenku went by the name of rattler, though whether that was a name the people of Caerwyn had given it or one it had given itself was a matter of some discussion. rattler mostly worked in and around the village farms, either in the fields themselves or as a trapper, having been taught by a passing master during more prosperous times.
As trade dried up and times got harder, rattler was one of the first to lose its place as an employed worker, and as the crueler residents of Caerwyn came to the fore, it found itself the target of ridicule and ire. Some encouraged kindness, in their own way. They wouldn’t ever publicly stick up for rattler, but its wounds were patched up and it was given some menial tasks to enable it to get by.
But one day a particularly cruel trio of Genasi asked rattler to help them out on their farm. rattler, needing work just as much as anyone else, agreed and followed them. And it was whilst rattler was doing this “work” that something not seen for some time in Caerwyn occurred.
The old man who found himself walking down the road past this particular farm was as haggard as one might expect an itinerant wanderer to be. He wore no shoes and was covered by a tattered blue cloak over a simple tunic of green. The old man trudged forwards at a steady pace, until his eye was taken by something in the nearby field.
He stopped and checked himself, perhaps fearful of having caught the heat of the midday sun at the height of summer, then ducked underneath the top and middle parts of the fence that separated the farm from the road. He approached a nearby scarecrow, muttering to himself.
“The Gods. The Gods themselves must be testing my patience. Who or more accurately, what kind of person could do this to you?”
The old man was addressing the scarecrow, for strung up upon it was rattler, who looked exhausted and upset, understandably. The old man shook his head in disbelief, and began the work of taking the unfortunate kenku down. He was in the process of doing so when the would-be rescuer was interrupted by a shout from across the field. All three of the Genasi who had offered rattler work were running over to them. The old man shook his head again and continued to work as they arrived.
“What the hells do you think you’re doing, stranger?” One of the Genasi asked.
The old man didn’t look at them, continuing to untie the kenku as he replied. “There appears to have been a mistake. Your ‘scarecrow’ seems to be a person.”
The lead genasi, a hulking bronze-coloured youth, snorted. “That’s our scarecrow. And what better thing to scare off the crows, than a big crow?”
Another, an air genasi, chimed in. “Hey we offered it work and the kenku was dumb enough to accept without asking what we wanted. it let us put it up there.”
The old man said no more, and was almost finished untying the kenku when the bronze Genasi grabbed the mans arm and started to speak. “Stop untyin-!” The Genasi suddenly flew backwards as the old man had grabbed the arm grabbing his, swung his much younger assailant around and threw him back towards his fellows.
Chaos immediately broke out as the two other Genasi lept in action. The air Genasi tried to knock the old man off his feet, but with deft movement the gust of air sent towards him swirled around him and was directed back towards his partner, an onrushing earth Genasi.
The gust impeded his progress but didn’t stop him, so the old man took two steps towards the charging earth Genasi to close the gap, and felled him with a kick directly to the chest. Before he could follow up the other two were quickly on him and soon all three were attempting to grab or assault the old man, who dodged or deflected most of their attacks, slipping between and around them.
It wasn’t a particularly long fight as the Genasi tired, the old man barely showing any fatigue as he tripped the bronze Genasi into the air Genasi. Taking on three opponents, even ones much less skilled than you, does leave open the opportunity for mistakes or bad luck to give them an opening.
The earth Genasi managed to grab the old man though just as it seemed like the fight might be over, the earth Genasi suddenly let go and with a shout of pain grabbed his ear. The old man turned and looked, seeing that a not insignificant amount of blood was pouring from a freshly opened wound on it.
The other two Genasi forgot the fight and ran to their fellow. Several feet away, blood on its beak and freed from its predicament, stood rattler. The old man tutted and hurried the kenku away before the Genasi recovered, setting off along the road out of the village.