Imagine a planet not unlike our own - perhaps even similar to our own. Now, fancy this planet has no moon, but instead rings like Saturn's. Next, picture a civilization here made up not of one species, but too many to count. Maybe there was another intelligent civilization before them that's long passed on. Hell, suppose they had access to some kind of magic.
You're starting to get it.
Keep going. What do these species' physiologies look like? How much have they progressed technologically? Culturally?
What happens after the people of this world die? Their spirits surely go somewhere. Where's that? How do their souls get there?
I've spent quite a few years mulling over these questions and others, and I've come to some answers.
This is, of course, an overly dramatic introduction to a worldbuilding project I've had on the boilerplate for some time. Though I wouldn't consider it done, I think I've made enough progress to start showing it off a bit. I intend to do a lot of short writings within this world, exploring large swaths of it over time and posting many of those experiments publicly. And, if I really feel bold down the line, maybe I'll start pitching it to publishers. Only time will tell.
You can read stories written in this world here.
below is a list of information i intend to add to this, should i remember. this is not necessary information only to be found on my website. i would rather die than keep my worldbuilding so obtuse for readers. i intend to articulate it within my actual writing, but that time has not yet come.
i have quite a few things for which i have ideas, but no names. they are not on the list for that reason.
Little is known about them. They may have, for all anyone is aware, been more than one species. The list of attributes they are known to have had is as follows:
Most anything else that has been said in regards to them is up for debate. In the Rubblefolk's time, they had incredibly varied ideas of most every attribute of theirs. Some called them vicious warmongers. Others claimed them to be a deeply compassionate people. Some said they were large. Some said they were relatively small. Some regarded them as deities, of a sort. Others thought of them as twisted and malevolent. Point being, just about nobody knows how they actually were. That question continues to plague historians today. Some suggest it will keep doing so ad infinitum.
A now-extinct species, but one that had a veritable and necessary hand in the development of this world's current society. Around 10,000 years after Moonfall, they emerged from some of the ruins of structures the Precursors left behind. Their rise was a byproduct of the sheer amount of energy left by Moonfall's potency, and some surmise that it was helped along by the gods. They spent an uncountable number of years building some semblance of soceity for themselves, and as life began to rise again their goal expanded to building a society for all intelligent life.
They did not need to eat, drink, or sleep. They were not susceptible to disease. However, the circumstances of their creation meant there was no way for them to reproduce. Due to this, the Rubblefolk population slowly, steadily declined as their bodies deteriorated to the elements. By the time intelligent life had truly risen among other species, the Rubblefolk were little more than a meager population of crochety but wise individuals scattered across the world. Many of them were given "oracle" status due to their wisdom.
Some time ago, the last Rubblefolk met her end. They exist now only through the stories they told and the stories told about them.
If you've ventured even slightly into the proximity of the continent of Constenia (see Constenia's entry for more information on the landmass), you may have heard the distant and haunting melodies of the Leviathans.
They're massive. It's difficult to properly capture the sheer horror of even the smallest of the genus' size. Smaller Leviathans are big enough to crush a standard biped without noticing. Larger ones are the size of great buildings.
The haunting songs they echolocate with, from a distance, have been reported as sounding sonorous and pleasant. In proximity, their songs are so loud that they have been known to significantly damage hearing.
Leviathans are easily some of the world's most dangerous creatures. They have been the cause of death of many an explorer.
They have no survival incentive to consume any creatures from outside Constenia. Diet is not why they pose danger.
Leviathans are known to stay completely still during snowstorms due to their communication, echolocation, and other faculties being rendered useless. During such storms, the snow has a tendency to completely coat them, leaving them easy to confuse for a mound of snow or (in larger species and with poor visibility) cliffs.
As Leviathans sleep standing up, they will sometimes remain covered in snow for hours after a storm's end. If you are (stupidly) adventuring in Constenia and see a particularly suspicious mound of snow, do not approach it. Do not disturb it.
You'd be surprised how dangerous things can get in the vicinity of a crater. Especially in the cold.
The lingering toxicity in the air in such areas doesn't tend to lend itself to quaint living conditions. Of course, as is the nature of intelligent life, basically anything where creatures can have a pulse will have someone trying to get some sort of settlement running. The truth of this extends to crater towns, and in accordace rose the Pohyat.
They're, in most aspects, not an unusual species. Furry because they live in cold regions. Lifespans are generally low due to the punishing conditions. What makes them interesting, though, is the way they get past the danger of the air. Pohyat have visible biological filtration devices with which to breathe. They don't just breathe in and out without a middleman: instead, it goes into an internal system that filters it and expels the excess material as a part of exhalation.