Species
The Kymian (pronounced KIM-ee-an) are a species of amphibious humanoids who are the founders and predominant race of the Mycenaean island nation. Their name is derived from an ancient word for “wave,” reflecting their profound connection to the sea. They are known for their ancient lineage, their strategic minds, and their complete mastery of the marine environment.
Physical Form and Sensory Traits
Kymians possess a sleek, streamlined humanoid form that is powerfully adapted for an amphibious life. Their skin is smooth and lacks hair, ranging in color from deep oceanic blues and greens to the pearlescent shades of inner shells, seafoam white, and even the warm ochre and bronze tones found on ancient pottery.
- Head and Face: Their features are well-defined, with high cheekbones and strong jawlines. Their hair is a collection of fine, flexible bioluminescent filaments that drift slowly in water, resembling sea silk or the tentacles of a noble anemone. Their ears are small and elegantly finned, capable of flattening against the skull to reduce drag while swimming.
- Body: They have a swimmer’s build—lean, with dense musculature in the back, core, and legs. Their hands and feet are long, with thick, retractable webbing between their digits. A series of small, closable gill slits are located discreetly along their ribcage, just below the pectoral muscles.
- Sensory Traits: Kymians have large, dark eyes, often solid black or deep indigo, which grant them exceptional vision in the low light of the deep ocean. A transparent nictitating membrane can slide across their eyes to protect them from underwater debris or sudden glare. They also possess a highly developed lateral sense, a network of sensitive nerves along their torso and limbs that allows them to perceive subtle pressure changes and vibrations in the water around them, making it nearly impossible to sneak up on them underwater.
General Size
Kymian adults stand slightly taller and are more slender on average than many land-based humanoids. Males typically range from 6 to 6.5 feet tall, while females are slightly shorter, ranging from 5’9″ to 6’2″. Their streamlined bodies and dense musculature make them heavier than they appear, with an average weight between 180 and 240 pounds.
Body Pattern
Many Kymians are born with subtle, naturally occurring patterns on their skin that become more pronounced with age. These patterns are unique to ancestral lines and are a source of great pride. The patterns often resemble the motifs of their culture—spirals, flowing wave-like lines, or the geometric shapes characteristic of Mycenaean art. The ruling family is known for a distinct, intricate pattern that evokes the form of a great octopus.
Life Cycle
Kymians have a longer lifespan than most terrestrial races, often living between 150 and 200 years. They are born live in saltwater grottos and spend their first decade as almost purely aquatic juveniles, with their land-based breathing system developing fully during adolescence. They are considered adults around the age of 25. Their long lives grant them a unique perspective on history and a tendency toward long-term planning and tradition.
Potential Positives and Negatives
A Kymian’s physical form offers distinct advantages and disadvantages that can be enhanced or mitigated with training and gear.
- Positives: Their amphibious nature is their greatest asset. They are naturally fast and agile swimmers, can withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea, and are immune to the effects of cold water. Their lateral sense gives them a unique form of 360-degree awareness underwater.
- Negatives: Their skin requires regular hydration. Prolonged exposure to arid, dry air without care will cause their skin to crack and become painful, leading to weakness. Their eyes, adapted for dim light, can be overwhelmed by sudden, brilliant flashes of light in the open air.
Tags: Kymian, Amphibious, Humanoid, Mycenaean, Aquatic, Marine, Bioluminescent, Webbed, Gilled, Lateral Sense, Deep Sea Vision, Ancient Lineage, Ruling Class, Navigator, Guardian, Magically Resonant, Wave-Patterned
Specialized Item Slots
The unique physiology of the Kymians allows for the use of specialized gear that cannot be fitted to other races.
- Webbing Slots (2): The durable webbing between their fingers and toes contains reinforced anchor points. Specialized gear, such as sharpened bronze talons for combat, fine mesh for sifting, or magically stiffened membranes for incredible bursts of speed, can be slotted into these points.
- Gill Resonator Slot (1): The primary gill slit on their torso can be fitted with a magical device. An Echo-Resonator can allow them to use a form of sonar or communicate silently with other fitted Kymians underwater. A Prana-Filter could be slotted in to allow them to draw ambient magical energy directly from ocean currents, enhancing gear worn on the rest of their body.
Environmental Adaptability
Kymians are masters of marine and coastal environments. Their settlements are marvels of architecture, blending cyclopean stone fortresses on the coastlines with glittering, pressure-proof structures in the depths below. They thrive in temperate and warm oceans. They are poorly adapted for arid deserts or volcanic lands and would require specialized hydration suits or hydro-magical gear to operate there for any length of time.
Other Information
As the marginally predominant and ruling race of a major island nation, Kymian culture is deeply intertwined with concepts of legacy, maritime power, and duty. They see their amphibious nature not just as a biological trait but as a divine mandate to rule and protect the seas. Their leaders are not only generals and politicians but also master navigators and keepers of ancient aquatic lore. This gives the nation of Mycenaean a significant strategic and economic advantage in the world of Saṃsāra.
Admonition of the Abyssal Maw
It is told, from records of great age, of the first Kymians. They were arrivals in the great salt water, their forms new to the currents of Saṃsāra. They sought land, a foundation, but the great isles that would be called Mycenaean were under a shadow. A shadow that was in the deep.
In that deep was the Abyssal Maw. Some called it a beast of leviathan size, others a hunger that was given a body. It had no mind for rule, only for tribute. It was a stomach of the sea. From the shores it demanded tribute. From the deeps it demanded tribute. Its presence was a poison to settlement, and the land was empty of people, for the Maw did not permit kings or foundations. The Maw was the only power. Power was the Maw.
Among the first Kymians was one of great stature, Lycomedes. His filaments of hair shone with a bright light, and his eyes saw the truth of the currents. He saw his people, the Kymians, living in the currents, in hidden grottos, without a great hall or a throne. They were nomads in their own element, fearful of the shadow in the deep.
And so Lycomedes spoke, his voice carrying through the water. He said, “We are Kymians. The wave is our blood. The depth is our home. Why is there a shadow in our home? Why do we give tribute to a hunger? This is not balance. A foundation must be made. The Maw is not a foundation.”
But the elders cautioned him. They said, “The Maw is ancient. It has no mind to hear words. It has no eyes to see reason. It is only hunger. To face it is to be consumed. This is its nature.”
Lycomedes gave answer. He said, “If its nature is hunger, then its hunger can be ended. We have no great power in our flesh. Our hands are but hands. This is known. But the world gives us tools. In the deep mountains, where the water is heavy and hot, there are metals. These metals sing with the world’s magic. We will make gear. With this gear, we will answer the Maw.”
And so it was done. For many cycles, the Kymians labored. They were smiths of the deep. They took the bronze of the vents and the iron of the core stones. They did not make swords to cut flesh. They made instruments of attunement. For Lycomedes, they forged a great three-pronged spear. It was not a spear for killing. It was a Resonant Trident, a tool to touch the song of the world. They fashioned for him an armor from the shells of plated beasts, and they put into it circuits of drawn metal. This was his Mantle of Deep Pressures, an apparatus of strange function that held the crushing water away from him. Into the webbing of his hands they slotted blades of sharpened obsidian, for the Maw had a hide that was like stone.
When the gear was finished, Lycomedes wore it. The power was not in him, it was upon him. The Resonant Trident felt heavy, but it hummed as if alive. He stood before his people and he went down. Down he went into the black trench, where the Maw made its lair.
The lair was a great ruin of a city that was older than memory, and the Maw was coiled in its center. It was a thing of many grasping arms and one great eye that did not blink. All around it was its hoard, the tribute of ages. Gold, ships, the bones of heroes. The Maw sensed Lycomedes. The great eye turned. The water grew cold.
The Maw moved, and its movement was a storm. It reached for Lycomedes, he, the gear-wearer. Lycomedes did not retreat. He lifted the Resonant Trident. He struck not the creature’s body, but a great pillar of stone beside it.
The trident rang out. It was not a sound. It was a feeling. The water shivered. The stone groaned. The magic of the world, sleeping in the stone, was woken by the strike. The note of the trident was a pure note, a note of order and creation.
The Abyssal Maw, being a thing of chaos and hunger, could not suffer this note. The pure sound was a pain to its mindless spirit. It thrashed and raged, and its arms crushed the sunken ruins. Lycomedes was small before it. He moved like a fast fish, his webbed feet pushing him through the dark water. He struck another pillar, and then another. Each strike sent the pure note, the song of order, into the Maw’s lair.
The great beast was confused. Its hunger was replaced by this great pain of sound. It lunged for the source of the note, for Lycomedes himself. Lycomedes met the charge. He used the obsidian blades in his hands, not to kill, but to turn the creature’s tough skin, to guide its blind rage into the walls of the trench.
Then Lycomedes saw the heart of the lair. It was a great geode, a crystal heart that pulsed with a dark and hungry light. It was the source of the Maw’s endurance. Lycomedes knew what must be done. He swam to the center of the chaos, to the geode that was the anchor of the Maw.
He raised the Resonant Trident one last time. He put all his will, all his strength, into one final strike upon the crystal heart.
The note that came forth was not a whisper. It was a great proclamation. It shattered the geode. The dark light died. The Abyssal Maw gave one last silent scream, a shudder that shook the seabed. Its arms went limp. The great unblinking eye finally closed. It was not dead, but its anchor to the world was broken. It sank into a slumber in the deepest part of the chasm, a dreamless sleep from which it is said it will not wake.
Lycomedes, the Kymian, stood in the silent lair. The hoard of the Maw was before him. He ignored the gold and the jewels. He found one thing of importance. It was a crown, fashioned from a single, massive pearl and set in circuits of an unknown metal. It was a piece of ancient and powerful gear. He took the crown, which was called the Sunken Crown, and he returned to his people.
He wore the armor. He carried the trident. He placed the Sunken Crown upon his head, and his people saw that the power was not his, but it was his to wield. They made him the first king, and on the shores of the great isles, they built their city, Mycenaean. The shadow in the deep was gone. A foundation was made.
The Moral of this account is: Power is not a quality of the flesh, but a burden to be shouldered with gear. A home is not found, but made safe. A crown is not given, but forged through action.