The Saddleborn
As mentioned before, humanity is as diverse a creature on Skellbrieg as it is anywhere else. While Isuldor practices decaying social standing under progressively weaker kings and a burgeoning priesthood, Aralgnor is quite the opposite.
Instead of building monumental cities and walling themselves in with their natural fears as humans, Aralgnorians are active nomads with only one metropolitan area in which they convene to during times of crisis. The temperament of a normal Aralgnorian is like a furnace. At any given moment, the hot coals burning in their souls can leap out in the form of inspired words or a quick right to the jaw. However, they are far from barbarians. Otherwise, they would not have survived the growing intolerance of the Isuldorian hierarchy for so long.
Their current racial leader is named Algrim Ironhide, part of the Ironhide Clan. His cyclopean visage usually unnerves people, but he's an honorable creature. Ever since losing his eye to a faulty helmet design during battle, he refuses to cover his face with anything and has developed something close to claustrophobia.
Nevertheless, he leads from the front and his personal warband - the Ironhide Stormchargers - always follow him into the thickest of fighting, where they're truly at home.
Princes of Kraken Harbor
"To those who are about to die, we salute you! To those who are sent to Kraken Harbor, here's so you won't become fish food."
Needless to say, those who encroach upon the oceans surrounding Skellbrieg are destined to meet a briny death. Roaming leviathans, sea monsters, and hordes of flesh-rending scyllas are merely the tip of the vast iceberg concerning the zoological threats lurking in the watery depths. However, even this does not stop the tenacity of humanity.
Those who make their homes in Kraken Harbor are, at first, called such honorable names such as 'insane' or 'psychotic,' maybe even 'suicidal.' However, when one examines their culture deeper these words take on a whole new meaning. Who else but a knight of the Swan Island would dare to not only climb on top of a Kraken, but extract ink from the barnacles carpeting its back as well?
Swan Island is actually a monolithic coral reef raised beyond the western edge of Skellbrieg, but just in sight of its shoreline. It is the last stop as far as humanity is concerned, for a few more hundred nautical miles is the Edge of the World, and that usually means disaster.
Its leader is a woman named Aelorea Baal, whose self-proclaimed title of Sea Queen has become the stuff of legend. She's a fearsome warrior by trade and can match wits with the best of them. Her upbringing as a fisherman's daughter has taught her two things: never trust what you can catch on land, and kill what you catch in the ocean quickly.
Winter Wardens
Close enough to share the brutal weather of the Frigid South is the Empire of Korgon, better known for its bear cavalry and ice mages than for its seldom-warm soup and potent alcohol. The unswerving men and women of this fighting machine battle for a kingdom that is second in size only to Isuldor in terms of land controlled by humanity. Considering their rampant growth throughout the waning territories of Morrogoth, however, Korgon is well on its way to becoming the greatest power in Midland.
United by battle rather than faith, the Korgonites charge into war on heavy cavalry. It is a common misconception that there is distant thunder in Korgon where there are no clouds in the sky. That sound is merely the armies of the Emperor moving.
Korgon is often considered the bulwark against the forces of the Chaos Clan marshaling from the Frigid South as well as the undead armies of the vampire lords in the swamps of Morrogoth. It is true that if Korgon did not exist, then Isuldor and all of humanity within Midland would have evaporated long ago. By blood and thunder, Korgon preserveres!
The aforementioned Emperor of Korgon is a short, fat, and hairy loudmouth named Karl Oslov. His boisterous nature and pathetic stature actually hides a notable warrior, for in his younger days he earned battle honors that would make veteran generals of other nations hang their heads in shame. Even at the age of eighty-six, Karl can still hold his own in brawls and while outnumbered. Never underestimate a man who can hit your kidneys just by leaning forward!
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