Tilisis
TILISIS
. These beings primarily dwell in the heart of dense forests, where their presence shapes the land around them. Now livin in harmony whit nater and gadiets and invetions.
- Age: 5,000 - 10,000 years
- Height: Towering in stature, they range from 200 to 400 cm (6.5 to 13 feet).
- Weight: Heavyset, weighing between 150 to 350 kg or more, their footsteps carry a notable weight.
- Speed: Generally slow-moving and deliberate, Tilisis can exhibit surprising bursts of speed when necessary.
- Muse
- Deer
- Goat
- Horse
- Cow
Personality & Abilities Tilisis are known for their calm and welcoming demeanor, though they are often quiet and reserved, choosing their words carefully and speaking only with those they trust. In the darkness, their luminous eyes give them an eerie appearance, and they prefer to intimidate potential threats with psychological tactics rather than engage in direct confrontation but that is rear this day. Magic & Craftsmanship Tilisis possess exceptional skill in illusion, trickery, and manipulation, though they are careful when employing these abilities, as they are haunted by guilt when they manipulate others. They are also masters of tinkering and creating gadgets, using inventions that blend nature and machinery to forge a dystopian world of steampunk where nature and technology work in harmony. Tilisis tinker with life itself, modifying and improving it by integrating machines into the equation. Though many view their methods as inhumane, their work has helped countless individuals—especially those who were afflicted. They craft bodies of steel for the infected, allowing them to escape their dying flesh by replacing their hearts and minds. Because of this, Tilisis have become the most sought-after doctors, known for crafting prosthetics, replacing missing limbs, and even replacing hearts.
Culture & Lifestyle Tilisis culture is steeped in mystery and contrasts—between nature and technology, elegance and pragmatism. Their music is a haunting yet captivating blend of serenity and eeriness, where crystalline chimes mingle with deep, resonant piano notes. However, their daily lives are also filled with cheerful work songs, which echo through the towering trees of their forest homes. These melodies, passed down through generations, keep rhythm with their labor, celebrating both the beauty of life and the demands of their craft. Their clothing reflects their utilitarian lifestyle. Tilisis favor garments that cover only the upper half of their bodies, crafted from tough, durable fabrics like leather, designed to withstand the rigors of their labor. These are not just clothes but also tools; they often integrate wearable gadgets, such as protective goggles, retractable instruments, or devices that enhance their efficiency and safety in their work. Around their hips, they wear intricately woven beaded strings, more than just decoration—each bead is a personal life tracker, symbolizing their goals, milestones, and achievements. These strings are sacred, chronicling the wearer’s journey through life, from their most significant inventions to personal transformations. The Tilisis also adorn their bodies with tattoos made of bio-luminescent ink, which glow softly in the moonlight, reflecting their deep connection with both the organic and the mechanical. These tattoos evolve with them, changing in brightness and form as they grow and develop new skills. The special ink is maide from the pigments produst in the undervater nation and the special esenc form a glow emiting plant in ther nation that grow arownd them laighting the ceatis. Hierarchy and Social Structure In the distant past, hierarchy was an essential aspect of Tilisis society, with one’s status deeply tied to their physical characteristics, particularly their horns and animal traits. The more distinguished and elaborate the horns, the higher one stood within the social structure. Roughly 40% of the population still possess these unique and intricate horns, though they are no longer the sole indicators of power. Today, while tradition lingers, the emphasis on hierarchy has lessened, though the elite retain significant influence. Around 5% of the population still wield immense power over the kingdom. These individuals, known as the Guild Masters, hold sway over various sectors, such as invention, healing, and governance. At the pinnacle is the Queen, revered not only for her unparalleled mastery of technology and nature but also for her majestic horns, which are said to be the most magnificent in the kingdom—symbolizing wisdom, strength, and the fusion of organic and mechanical beauty. Despite this shift away from rigid hierarchy, respect for skill and innovation still governs Tilisis society. Prestige is now earned through one's contribution to the collective, whether through crafting life-saving prosthetics, designing new technologies that harmonize with the forest, or developing breakthroughs in bioengineering. The Tilisis pride themselves on their ability to merge life with machines, elevating their society to a unique blend of the natural and the mechanical—a balance no other civilization has achieved so gracefully. Guardians of the Tilisis Tilisis share their sacred forests with powerful guardians. Unicorns serve as noble protectors, patrolling the lands with pride and diligence. However, their most revered guardian is Azdaha, a colossal serpent who winds through the forest, safeguarding the Tilisis and their territories. Azdaha acts as a gatekeeper, preventing anything deemed unworthy from entering the sacred woods, ensuring that the lands remain untouched by malevolent forces.
AZDAHA
In the heart of an ancient forest, where once vibrant trees now stood withered and dying, there lived a mythical creature of legend: Azdaha, a colossal golden serpent. For as long as anyone could remember, Azdaha had roamed the forest, his scales shimmering like molten gold, a beacon of majesty in a land that had all but lost its life. The forest was fading. The once lush canopy had grown thin, and the ground beneath was cracked and dry. Birds no longer sang, and the streams that once ran clear had long dried up. Yet, amidst this decay, Azdaha continued his silent vigil, winding between the gnarled roots of ancient trees, searching for a way to restore the forest he so deeply loved. One day, Azdaha slithered to the top of a towering tree, the last still capable of bearing fruit. He found a single, precious fruit hanging from a fragile branch, golden like his own scales. He was hungry—starving, even. His massive body had grown weak, and the hunger gnawed at him with each passing day. Yet, as he gazed at the fruit, he could not bring himself to eat it. Instead, with great care, Azdaha knocked the fruit to the ground, watching as it fell, splitting open upon the earth. Small creatures scurried to feast on the sweet flesh, and the seeds nestled into the soil, a small hope for new life. Azdaha smiled softly, knowing his sacrifice might help others, though it meant suffering for himself. Day after day, this became Azdaha’s ritual. He would find the last bits of fruit and drop them to the forest floor, feeding the creatures who depended on them, planting seeds in the dry earth, all the while growing weaker. His body, once sleek and powerful, now dragged along the ground. His golden scales, though beautiful, offered no nourishment for himself. Still, he continued, selfless and determined. But no matter how many seeds he planted, the forest did not recover. The light that should have nourished the saplings was too faint, blocked by the thick, rotting canopy above. It seemed all of Azdaha's sacrifices were in vain. Until one day, as he lay beneath a struggling tree, he noticed something—a faint glimmer of light reflected from his own golden scales onto the forest floor. The light pooled around a fragile sapling, which leaned toward it, desperate for the warmth and life it offered. It was then that Azdaha realized the truth: he was the forest's only hope. His golden scales, once a symbol of his strength, were now the key to its survival. But to save the forest, he would have to give up the very thing that made him who he was. With a heart heavy with resolve, Azdaha began to tear the shimmering scales from his body, one by one. Each scale he laid on the ground reflected the sun’s light, creating small pockets of warmth and hope for the newly planted seeds. Every time he tore a piece of himself away, pain coursed through him, but he never hesitated. His body grew more exposed, more vulnerable, until at last, his golden brilliance was gone. His once-glorious body was now bare, raw, and fragile, but the forest floor sparkled with light—his light. Days passed, and where the light touched, life began to stir. The seeds Azdaha had planted sprouted into tiny saplings, drinking in the sunlight reflected by his fallen scales. Slowly, the forest began to revive, the creatures returning to a home that was, at last, healing. But Azdaha had given all of himself. He lay beneath the trees, weak and broken, his golden form reduced to nothing more than a pale, skeletal shadow. His body ached, and his vision blurred as he gazed up at the sky, wondering if his sacrifice had truly been enough. The last breath left his body, and silence fell over the forest. The forest, however, had not forgotten. Nor had the plans. The plains had witnessed Azdaha’s selfless acts—how he had given everything, down to his very essence, to bring life back to the world. Moved by his sacrifice, the plane, weaving the magic of renewal through the earth. Azdaha's body shimmered in the moonlight as the the plane enveloped him. Slowly, his form began to change. His bare, broken body was lifted by unseen hands, and in place of his golden scales, new ones began to form—brighter and more brilliant than before. But these new scales were not just for show; they radiated warmth, and wherever they touched, life flourished. Azdaha rose from the earth, no longer the snake of old, but the guardian of the forest itself. His new body gleamed with a golden light that reached deep into the forest, nurturing it, protecting it. He had become one with the land, his spirit intertwined with the trees, the creatures, and the life that now flourished under his eternal care. The forest bloomed, vibrant and full of life, a testament to Azdaha’s sacrifice. His new form, colossal and radiant, watched over the land, his golden light forever casting warmth onto the earth below. He had given everything for the forest, and in return, he had been reborn—not just as its protector, but as its savior.
Tilisis can create any prosthetic needed, even entire bodies, if you find the right "Doctor." The people who have been transferred into fully new bodies are called Sperrs, as they are considered almost a new race. They retain only their consciousness and brain, while the rest of their body is completely new. The remaining parts of their previous body are often reused in the process. Some bodies, however, contain none of the original person's parts. These are cases where the person had already passed away or was consumed by a curse. These individuals are called the shimering because for reasons science cannot yet explain, some souls—referred to as Stars—find empty vessels and take control of them, returning to life in a new form.
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