The Sharm
The Sharm are a race of two foot tall farmers and forest dwellers. They are part of a fascinating symbiotic relationship similar to the way Engarian miners are with their crystal. The Sharm however, are not involved with the crystal, they are instead involved with an herb called “Retkatis.” In their native tongue it means nature’s gift. Retkatis not only intoxicates and relaxes the Sharm; it is also responsible for ending an ancient civil war that went on for six hundred years before the discovery of Retkatis. The Sharm keep time and years by that measure, counting from the day both warring sides of ancient Sharm found, ate and smoked Retkatis together ending the war. The year is now 684ar, after Retkatis. The Sharm were a naturally violent and hostile race, the herb Retkatis has removed that character flaw. Replacing aggression with passivity, Retkatis also did something strange to the Sharm. Besides the normal effects of intoxication and euphoria, it jump started their evolution. Their biology seemed to be created for the consumption of Retkatis. The Sharm had always been a vegetarian people, in one hundred years Retkatis replaced all other food and drink, they no longer had the physiological need for their consumption. Rather than eating or drinking other foods or liquids, through either smoking or eating Retkatis they achieved some sort of photosynthesis, absorbing the energy of the herb through their cells.
There are two distinct classes of Sharm, wholly separated by the realities of a crystal world. The majority of the Sharm are those described previously, they live through consuming Retkatis, avoid crystals and live in deciduous forests, farming small patches of land growing Retkatis. The other class of Sharm is far more ancient and distinctly separate, they are the Sharm Magi. They do not use Retkatis, yet they are bound to a mysterious species of organic crystal from the Sharmdewmon Mountains where they have their secluded monasteries. Through their isolated study, the Magi of the Sharm are more in tune with the crystal of Oleskia than any creature alive, except the two guardians. This power and insight has allowed the Sharm Magi to see from the beginning that the fragile balance between the sun and fog crystals holding the world together would collapse into chaos and they have planned accordingly. The Magi of the Sharm have a poetic prophecy going back to the creation of their mountains; it has become their most popular meditation. “The crystal clear, now sits clogged, where light once shone, now rules fog. Miners break from crystal weight, the brothers split; now brothers hate.” That was a mantra among the crystal using Magi of the Sharm before they even knew what an Engarian was. Vibrations in the crystal moving through the world speak to the Sharm Magi, they know how to listen.
Mariath, Engarian Crystal Trader
Since the corruption of the sun crystal, humans have been unable to use crystals for magic, when they tried they would go mad. Instant unrecoverable insanity, though the loss of magic was devastating to the humans, the Engarian traders are perhaps the biggest victims of Zangoath’s plan. The Engarian traders are naturally immune to the crystals in every way; therefore they are never tempted by the lust for the crystals and their powers, which is also the reason why they control the trade worldwide. The Engarian traders do not have the insight that crystal magic and its visions provide, which is why they couldn’t see they had been betrayed by their own mining brethren. The miners had been corrupted and taken control of by Zangoath from within their very minds. The situation was beyond their control and required outside assistance. By the time the trading Engarians discovered the treachery of Zangoath it was too late for any action, the situation was not solvable by force. Nothing short of Sharm Magi knowledge would be of any assistance now. Mariath, a leading merchant within the brotherhood of Engarian crystal traders was volunteered by the miners who worked for him as well as his entire village to set out and find the famous Sharm Magi monastery known as “Rikva” deep within the Sharmdewmon Mountains.
Mariath traveled for eighteen straight days without stopping, the Engarian traders don’t tire or require sleep. Food and drink are also a luxury to them; some have been rumored to go six or more months without a single drop of water. Arriving at the base of the Crystal Mountains after his nonstop trek through both desert and jungle Mariath saw there was already a group of tiny hooded Magi waiting there for him. Mariath made his way closer to the group, as he came within speaking distance the group of tiny, hooded and assembled Sharm Magi spoke in unison. “Mariath, speaker for the crystal traders, we know why you have come.” Mariath stopped, standing still he listened to the chorus of Magi speak as one. “We cannot stop Zangoath’s corruption; no crystal can unmake the deed. You must go to Cordevar, land of the trees.” “Cordevar,” Mariath asked out loud? “Those who shun the crystals, how can they assist in balancing crystals?” The chorus of Magi spoke louder in unison, “only the natural can reverse the unnatural corruption of Zangoath, no crystal can return the world to balance. You must seek out the Cordevarian by the name of Isor Rootdeep.” Mariath, stunned with no choice answered. “Very well Magi, but are you not aware that Cordevarians care nothing for the outside world if their forests aren’t under threat.” The group of Magi stirred and responded in unison, a thought was repeating in Mariath’s head as he listened, “Why can I see their words?” “The great forests will be made crystal, Cordevar shall be glass.” Upon hearing this Mariath knew what to do, the Cordevarians would care now that their forest was under siege. “I see, I shall leave for Cordevar immediately. I will tell Isor Rootdeep what you have told me Magi, farewell.” With that the group of Magi was gone and Mariath began marching west towards the great forest city of Cordevar.
Cordevarians
Cordevarians are a peculiar race of being, two to three foot tall tree dwelling creatures, they are completely hairless with huge bulging eyes of red or yellow allowing them to see in the dark. They weigh twenty to forty pounds, yet are astonishingly healthy and robust. Known for hollowing large trees from the top down and stripping most leaves off the branches; they distinguish each other’s dwelling by having a different arrangement of branches and leaves upon the canopy, which they refer to as the top door. They are a generally hospitable and good natured race, though they enjoy mischievous play and can be selfish. They are insular and only concern themselves with affairs of their forest unless their trees are under threat. Those lucky few that have been invited inside a Cordevarian dwelling report nothing short of a homey and cozy abode, completely dry, clean and charmingly decorated, with the smell of pine in the air. Their entire race is obsessive about personal biographies and record keeping. Even if they spend their entire lives in their own tree, they still write their thoughts and observations in their personal journals each day, they are meticulous. Their race is completely united in their thinking and way of life. There are no classes or separations among them. Collectively, the Cordevarian race worships Hermwood, the guardian of nature, he wears a forest as his crown. Hermwood is said to take many forms even whole forests and mountains. A natural people, the Cordevarians are the only known race within Oleskia to willingly avoid and outright shun crystals or “empty rocks” as the Cordevarians call them. The Cordevarians are distantly related to the Sharm, there is infrequent contact between the two. There is a segment of the Cordevarian population that uses Retkatis recreationally, but their race is not biologically dependent upon it like the Sharm.
Coming to the great forest of Cordevar, Mariath noticed several Cordevarians in their respective trees conversing on yet another sunny afternoon. “Greetings,” the giant called up to them. “I am a friend of Isor Rootdeep; would you happen to know where I can find him?” A smooth Cordevarian with gray skin and huge yellow eyes called back to him. “I would invite you inside stranger, but you’re too big, I think too big for even the biggest tree, hee hee. What business do you have with Isor Rootdeep?” He asked his tone turning suddenly suspicious. “I am on an urgent mission sent by the Sharm Magi, Zangoath has corrupted the power of crystal worldwide, and he seeks to turn all light to fog. He wants to change everything including your forest to crystal.
I am Mariath, an Engarian trader, I was instructed to find Isor Rootdeep, it was said he may know how to restore the balance of the crystals through natural adjustment.” The bug eyes Cordevarian had become bored and stopped listening sometime ago, he stared blankly at Mariath, and then blinked. “Just go over there,” The Cordevarian said and pointed to his left. Mariath looked and before he could turn back to ask which tree, the bug eyed Cordevarian was gone. “Well, it looks like the reputation for patience and friendliness of the Cordevarians has been exaggerated.” Mariath said to himself as he began walking down what felt like a neighborhood street, yet the houses were of huge trees. Each one more beautifully decorated and maintained than the last. How they managed to hollow out a tree and yet it was still alive and healthy Mariath could not understand. It appeared each neighbor tried to outdo the other with a larger and greener crown arranged atop their tree.
Among the Cordevarians, the larger the tree your family lives within, the more ancient your lineage. Mariath figured he could walk to all of the larger trees and call for Isor Rootdeep in a matter of hours. When he took a second look at the endless miles of old growth forest, Mariath thought again. “There can be no searching this, it is endless,” Mariath said out loud to himself exasperated. “More than you know trader,” came a voice from behind like sandy gravel. Turning and looking above his head Mariath saw a Cordevarian with bulging red eyes looking out from his top door, only his head and hands gripping the tree were visible. “I hear you are looking for me crystal mover, I am Isor Rootdeep.” Mariath responded, “Well then, I thank you sir Rootdeep, you have saved me the trouble of searching an endless forest for you.” Isor Rootdeep laughed, sounding more like a wild animal choking. “Yes, well I had to let you know I was here, it is not in our nature to be cruel. We’ll leave that to our Sharm cousins before they have had their first hit of Retkatis in the morning.” Cackling again, Isor pulled himself up so his arms were hanging over the side of the tree; his huge red eyes were intently studying Mariath as the giant spoke. “I am grateful for that and I am sorry to intrude upon you but I …Isor cut him off by throwing the remainder of an apple at his head. “Hey!” Mariath screamed, “Why did you do that?” Mariath asked, there was no answer, with his huge red eyes staring in silence at Mariath for what seemed like hours Isor spoke, “yes yes, the Magi told me you were coming you giant hairless monkey, what they wouldn’t tell you however was why you would need to come to a Cordevarian of all races when it concerns crystals and why you would need Isor Rootdeep out of all the Cordevarians in Oleskia?” Isor threw another apple down on Mariath when he finished speaking. “Why are you doing that?” Mariath asked angrily. A second of silence passed, “you’re too big to miss” Isor responded nonchalantly and continued speaking seriously without stopping. “Now, the fog crystal has been taken by Zangoath and changed to remove the light. Without the light the trees will wither and turn to fog crystals themselves. To disrupt the flow of energy to the fog crystal you will need a treeheart.” “A what,” Mariath asked, is that some sort of secret forest crystal?” “No my ugly giant friend, Cordevarians don’t use the empty rocks you call crystals. A treeheart is contained life essence directly from the light of the sun captured at the moment of photosynthesis. They can be used to restart the sun crystal and to disrupt the fog crystal; this is another reason that you were not aware of that Zangoath must turn the forests of Cordevar to crystal, to stop the treehearts from disrupting any of his plans.” “I see,” Mariath whispered, “Why doesn’t a Cordevarian deliver a treeheart to the Magi or place one near the sun crystal themselves?” “Each treeheart weighs three hundred pounds, we are too small to move them to where they now need to be, and this is why we need you Mariath, the giant Engarian trader.” “Where do I go to find the first treeheart I will need?” Mariath called up and asked. An apple core hit him between the eyes.
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