Race:
Fuath is the term applied to a generic Celtic highland boogie of the lochs, but the term can be more specific. (The plural is Fuathan) Gwm's race is a water dwelling breed of monsters covered in a thick, shaggy coat of yellow fur. They are soulless and malevolent normally, as is the case with any breed of monster, but not necessarily violent. That is the true Fuath, however, so I guess one should be delved out for official Althanian standards:
Overview- Fuathan (foo-ah-an), or Vough, are a monstrous race of hairy, bipedal hominoids who inhabit lochs and rivers. They are not particularly violent but do bear resentment for humans and other god-blessed races that possess souls.
Physiology- Fuathan are comparable in size to humans with the males tending to be slightly larger than the women. A yellow coat of fur covers the body of a male Fuath, especially down the back where they have a mane. Females have less hair to the point where it may only appear in the mane in addition to that found on the crown. Their skin is a sickly, off shade like what someone drowned and bloated would have. They have webbed fingers and toes that could be compared to ducks' feet, a solid flipper with no empty space. These and their ears are always hairless. None of the species possesses a nose or visible nostrils. Two vertical slits can be found between their eyes and mouth upon close inspection. The species is abnormally hideous with deformed facial features. The women tend to have a more acceptable appearance than the men. Their eyes are large and saucer-like. A sinewy tail comes from their lower back and reaches the ground, growing as long as the height of their body. The end of it contains sharp, bony projections that allow it to be swung like a weapon. The species is omnivorous and possess incisors, canines, and molar teeth. The canines are lengthened into fangs, sometimes escaping through their lipless mouths. At best, the teeth are crooked. Biologically, they are genetically compatible with the races of man and the like, sometimes intermarrying with the woman of the Fuathan. The resulting offspring will inherit a minor reflection of their Fuath lineage, being webbing, a short tail, and a slight mane down the back. Their relationship with water is comparable to that of a beaver's more than a fish's. While they are mammalian air breathers, they reside in the water equally as much as they go on land.
Society- Their society is not primitive or advanced but much like medieval humans. They live in small communities, generally in huts or shacks by a water source if not on or in it, and perform necessary tasks to keep their village functioning. Fishing is their primary source of acquiring food and trade as not much successful farming can be done in their habitat. Special vegetation is gathered but is not cultivated. Clothing and objects they cannot make themselves are acquired by trade and barter between races they are on friendly terms with, generally other monstrous humanoids. All wear garments of green shades as this is their color of choice. Their education and history is passed down by word of mouth since paper is hard to keep dry in their environment. Each town is typically governed by a wise and learned elder who uses their lifetime of experience to guide their people. Living by water, they are adept swimmers by nature. Since they are always soaking wet, they also tend to smell like wet dogs, big dogs. Aside from these noted differences, they are no different than other simple, rural communities. Depending on the development, some may be more advanced or less advanced, smaller in scale or larger. This could be a few families or a submerged fortress. Their lifespan differs slightly from humans, only extending it by a decade or two. They have those who are outsiders and rogues along with those who are exceptionally talented in atypical fields. Disciplined soldiers are nonexistent due to their intolerance for iron, and no organized religion exists for them specifically as they are a forsaken breed damned by the governing pantheons.
Banes- As with other races, the Fuath have their share of problems. Sunlight burns them, so they cannot go out during the day. Iron burns them, as well, so they do not involve it in anything they do, instead avoiding tools that are wooden, bronze, or other alloys, nothing ferrous. They are prone to fits of rage at seemingly random. One of these causes is crossing a running brook. Fuathan despise the god-blessed races, generally jealous of them. While they do not hunt them down, they will terrorize and possibly kill any that wander into their territory.
Appearance:
Large- His height and width span much further than normal.
Fat- Gwm likes to pack away the food, and it shows on his round, heavy belly.
Hairy- His body is covered in a shaggy coat of yellow hair except on his ears, hands, and feet that is always damp, and a thick mane goes down his back.
Frightening- Even without his massive size, Gwm's face is lopsided and proportioned poorly. He is a beast to behold.
Details- Large, dark blue saucers for eyes, no nose, fanged mouth, pointed ears, four webbed digits on each limb like a flipper, six foot long tail with various sized bone spikes.
Personality:
Jovial- Like any girthful individual, Gwm is a jolly person. He always laughs, whether at something, himself, or nothing at all. He feels everyone is his friend, even when they are in the middle of attacking him. Parties and celebrations are his favorite as he loves company, especially when there is good food being served.
Charitable- Soft, warm, and kind hearted, Gwm is willing and eager to lend a helping hand or share anything he owns with anyone who asks. Sometimes he will give up things without being asked or allow them to be taken without a request. He loves to help even when he is just being taken advantage of.
Pacifist- Fighting never solves anything, and this is why Gwm feels nothing ever gets done. All people seem to do is fight. He will have no part in any wars. Diplomacy is his solution to any conflict despite not being any good at speaking or rousing trust in his audience given his terrible visage. Still, he tries to talk problems out.
Naive- His heart is kind and warm, making him trustworthy and trusting to the point of being oblivious. A brown eyed man could tell Gwm they were green, and he would have to accept that he was seeing them wrong. He never judges anyone by appearance or once he even gets to know them. That would just be wrong, after all.
Clumsy- His gentle spirit does not fit with his physical size, and often his strength causes problems which can easily lead to the misunderstanding that he, a horrible monster, has started a raging rampage. Being trailed by a six foot long tail does not help him from knocking things or, more often, people over as well.
Weapons:
Spiked Club- A wooden branch that might just be a young sapling is carried at his side. The knobby log is pierced at the blunt end by two massive teeth from some unknown, giant carnivore. The club is really more of a walking staff than a weapon, in his eyes, and the teeth are ornamental, good luck charms. The horrible, projected image radiated from the menacing mace escapes his innocent line of thought.
Spiked Tail- Covered in Racial Abilities.
Armor:
None- Gwm does not wear any armor.
Possession:
Robes- Ordinary, green cloth wraps Gwm's body, as it does the body of all his kind. Green is their color. The edges are trimmed in a yellow border.
Pants- Worn, tattered, brown pants are all Gwm wears in addition to his robes.
Sack- Never knowing what interesting trinkets he may encounter on his journeys, Gwm keeps a small bag handy to hold his findings. It is normally empty as he often gives away whatever he may acquire. It is small in comparison to him, so it is actually quite sizeable.
Racial Abilities:
Spiked Tail- A thick, powerful tail is at Gwm's disposal. It ends in an array of adjustable, bone spikes that can either lay flat or stick outward like a morning star. It can be a destructive weapon, assuming he would ever have use for one. It is effectively identical to a heavy mace made of tough bone.
Fur- Due to their body hair, Fuathan can be comfortable in temperatures that would shiver many other races' bones, giving them no need to light a fire on most nights. However, higher temperatures easily prove to be discomforting to them, and they are highly susceptible to heat stroke and related conditions.
Night Eyes- Fuathan eyes reflect light like many nocturnal animals' are capable of. This allows Gwm to see more clearly at night and in lower light environments.
Born Swimmer- With their natural habitat being lochs and being born with a full set of flippers ending each limb, Fuathan can easily propel themselves through the water. Additionally, while they do not live beneath the waves, they can hold their breath longer than most land dwellers, ranging a few minutes in length. Gwm can go about ten.
Elemental Affiliation- Fuathan are tied to the element of water. Because of this, Gwm can resist water based offenses as well as fire based attacks.
Iron Weakness- The most basic of metals to construct a well serving tool or weapon from happens to be the racial bane of all Fuathan. Gwm cannot wield, wear, or be struck by the ore without dire consequences (excruciating pain, singed flesh, etc).
Solar Intolerance- The sun is yet another very common element that happens to destroy the Fuathan. Solar rays burn Gwms flesh upon direct contact and even indirectly cause discomfort. Needless to say, he tends to stay nocturnal like the rest of his kind.
Rage- Uncontrollable, devastating, and destructive frenzies are common events for Fuathan and can occur unexpectedly. Gwm likes to think he has a handle on his anger and has not experienced one since his childhood.
Personal Attributes:
Brute- Given his immense size, a certain strength comes by Gwm naturally. He could crush someone's hand inside his palm, but he never would. Gwm can take a hit and not appear phased. He could easily shrug off the punches of a normal man without even noticing them, partially thanks to his blubber and fur and partially to never fighting back when assaulted. This is not supernatural protection but merely his tolerance for abuse coupled with physical padding, and it only really has effect against weaker bludgeoning. His size is not normal among his people.
Portly- Gwm is fat. There is no way around that fact. Fat, fat, fatty-fat, fat. He is sluggish in travel and in reaction time. He cannot jump high or touch his toes. Even touching his knees is a difficult task to accomplish without sitting down or tipping over.
History:
Soul Seeker. Gwm was born into a race that was frowned upon by deities, seen as a plague upon the beloved races of man, the blessed ones. Humans, elves, dwarves, and their kin were created and celebrated by their divine makers. Fuathan are not of such fate, for they are monsters. More so than goblins or trolls, they are a soulless breed whose own existence is nothing but hatred and malice, a creature of nightmare. They live with no purpose and no chance at an afterlife, be it ill fated or a paradise. Gwm is aware of this. He is not bitter of it and does not resent those who were born into a more fortunate destiny. He has accepted this with a smile.
While he was born into a race regarded as evil by most, Gwm was also born with a big heart, one that rivals the size of his body. He cannot change the fact that he will be hated and despised by mortals and immortals alike, but this fact does not hinder his life. Gwm enjoyed spreading good will and happiness, for the finer things of his life would have to be enjoyed while he still had one. This was all he had, after all. There was no great beyond for him. He could not change this and accepted it with a smile.
Gwm accepted the many sour things about his life, never questioning fairness on behalf of the fates. It was not his place to judge the rulings of the cosmos as he was just along for the ride. There was nothing that he could do, or so he told himself, but what if there was? Beings without souls were abominations by any respect, no matter whether or not they were horrid or pleasant, benevolent or malevolent. Some have, the tales told, earned a soul by bearing the child of a blessed one. If they were truly deserving, they would earn their own soul to bear another. Gwm, of course, could not bear a child as he was not equipped for such, but the principle was still there: a soul could be bestowed to those who deserved it.
Three things composed the worthiness he sought, as he saw it, and these were the cornerstones of all goodness: hope, charity, and faith. Gwm felt he possessed all of these virtues in excess, but that that was not good enough for him. These honorable notions were never tested. One could easily say what one would do, but actions are the final determination to a judgment. Hope Gwm had. He held the notion that some day, in some way, he could be completed. He knew someone was watching him and would at least acknowledge what it was he had done. Charity was all Gwm spread to friends and enemies, not of his own choice. His love could be tested against those who did not understand and only saw him as the monster he truly was. To prove his devotion, he would have to leave the safety of his marshland home and venture into the realm of man. Here, also, his faith would be put on trial. Gwm believed in goodness, and that this goodness was within all beings. He believed that good things happened for those who deserved it and those who did not. Gwm did not believe in evil. The real world would test this faith to its breaking point. Whether or not it did would determine if he earned his soul.
