Lessevehnes

Most animals of the blue forest strike the traveller as odd, but lessevehnes have made some think they inadvertently landed in the Area. Lessevehnes have incredibly long legs and necks, and flexible antlers, with which they gather fruit, and make noise as well. The water-blue fur is so soft it can barely be felt. Always do they look as if the wind could take them away, and they never run, only walk. Lessevehnes are not hunted, but their antlers are used for a special musical instrument in the blue forest.

"The bard played wonderfully on her instrument, but when we met a living lessevehn weeks later in the forest, and heard what it could do with its antlers - the bard's skill really paled to insignificance."
— Hafjim, traveller

Artists' notes
I painted a creepy giant beast ages ago for a surreal card game, and the basic idea stuck with me until I could make it work for these beasties. It's fun to make animals stick to the general impression of the single coloured forests.

Golbehls

A golbehl ist a Gderan animal that feels so unloved it's become a proverb. Golbehls are slender, long-legged animals with grey fur and red ears, the markings in the whiskered face make it always look sad. Golbehls quickly approach humans to become friends, but are so easily startled and so emotionally fragile that they just as quickly leave their would-be masters; only to try again with someone else days later. Only in the ninth year of being a pet do golbehls quite suddely evolve into loving, perceptive, and hard-working companions. Then they have unmatched qualities as guards, are smart and quick on the uptake, and can learn surprising tricks. Always do they need much love and appreciation. Golbehls are only kept by few, envied trainers, but many try training a golbehl.
Golbehls live in the lesser green forest and can become fourty years old in the wilderness, and much older in captivity.

"Golbehls are so hard to train it's always a suprise seeing somebody with one, and I've met them as companions of people from adolescents to elders and soldiers to housekeepers. Even the romantic raganaj have no advantage in training them; but a surprising amount of brownforesters are accompanied by golbehls."
— Kihpabe, traveller

Artists' notes
I've been typing 'til my fingers bled inventing animals and plants for all regions lately, and now it's high time to sketch some and make them public. Simple sketches will have to do for many, however.

Bans

There are many breeds of bans, who can be used as pets, hunting beasts or even beasts of burden, or as guards for house, family, or herds. The best-liked ban breeds are plushy herderbans, whose fur is also worn; hunting bans in all sizes, from small energetic tunnelbans to the mighty surabans with their powerful jaws; and of course the affectionate and intelligent kalagrenos, who make excellent pets and learn many tricks. Wild bans are rare, although some small packs of domesticated bans that run wild exist.

"Between my orla, ban, yaaf, and myself, I think I'm the worst hunter. But at least the best cook, and I swear they are going for the fat prey first because it tastes best when roasted."
— Chrekor, hunter

The most basic build of bans is slender with long legs, thin horizontal ears and a narrow snout. They are omnivores but prefer meat, and hunt for smaller animals like amphibians and rodents, but also eat up insect states. The bans in northern Gdera specialize in catching birds. Preferences and character often depend on breed; some dislike water while others won't get out again; some are husky and lazy while others won't stand still. The appearance is equally dependent - from plush, multicoloured fur to being covered with wire, and from flat, shortlegged hunters to gracious, fragile runners, everything goes.


Artists' notes
Bans take the place of dogs in Genius Loci. After some consideration I threw out all Earth names for creatures, and have them look differently. It's just too tempting to make all kinds of weird animals that do what well-known animals do normally - mounts, cattle, pets. Now there are pervons instead of cats, wempons instead of camels, bans instead of dogs, and I'm happy.

Suras

Of the greater predators in the great green forest of Gdera, suras are probably the largest - animals that are bigger still usually are herbivores. Suras are six meters long without the tail, and have a powerful jaw. Their thick, saggy, blue-grey skin has a small mane of greenish brown fur. Hunting sura is dangerous and needs well-trained surabans to accompany the hunters; but several parts are considered delicacies, and the skin is a great trophy.
Suras are perfectly aware of their place at the top of the food chain, and are often impolite to travellers by striding into camps, taking food and scaring pets. But, suras will not usually openly seek trouble, and the greatforesters have taken to wearing sura bells; small bundles of bells worn at the ankle, to announce themselves to the predators and make them take a different route. Suras are true to their homeland and easy to expect.

"Our nearest neighbours exiled their head hunter last year. It turned out that she had not, as she claimed, hunted and killed the sura alone, whose skin she wore; but that she had bought it from nomad traders. Sentries say she made a hut up on the fallen sky fig; we tell the children to stay away from her."
— Haamhile, Greatforester

Artists' notes
Suras aren't even that important (but how can any animal be, when there are so many), they are mostly the reason for a local custom of wearing bells to make suras go elsewhere. I do believe however, that some animals will quickly learn that bells in the forest mean food, toys, and easy prey. And the choice between meeting a sura, and being pestered by nureewings may just go the way of not wearing bells; at least suras don't attack without provocation.

The Horr

[...]
After two and a half days locked in their cabins - luxurious cabins, but even a golden cage was still a cage - it was relieving to finally get fresh air again. It had been an unpleasant surprise when the captain had announced they weren't even allowed to watch the takeoff. Furthermore, not leave the preinstructed corridors or make any drawings of the ship, interview the crew, or a number of other, seemingly absurd instructions, that had made Orjugran call them a delusional band of oversuspicious scoundrels, just less polite. Captain Korslamin had laughed about the garren outbreak of disapproval, but only shortly; explained that she expected everyone to follow the rules, and that she would personally put a spell on any deviant.
Now, the maneuvers that might have told the passengers how the legendary dustship flew seemed complete, and the crew was friendly; so was the weather, which was unexpectedly sunny for a spring day in the Pillar Street.
Orjugran, who was happily lolling about in the sun, Vasmir, with an excited Mokri on his shoulder, and Benové met on the middle deck, where other passengers were stretching their legs as well. Vasmir blinked into an almost cloudless sky; the days before and during departure it had rained in varying strength.
"It gets drier towards Lozir", Benové yawned, "in case you're wondering why the rain stopped." The mapper was knowledgeable about climates and could tell them much about their travel destinations besides that. She stretched and, a little more awake, leaned on the railing betweeen Vasmir and Orjugran. Mokri had went to play with some other solano and a ball.
Below them stretched the sea, dotted with single rock spires. Many spots were so shallow the ground could be seen - reefs, shipwrecks as well, countless fish. Vasmir regretted to have missed the seafolk settlements off the coast. But the trip with the dustship was worth some sacrifices. The movement was completely smooth, and the Gral-én'tach was so big it seemed like a village. The crew had leisure while things were calm, and played with each other, the solano, or the many flying animals living aboard. On the afterdeck, the message master was teaching some of the half-meter-tall hallromm butterflies and his apprentice, a handful of yaafs chased each other around the masts. Vasmir followed the hallromms with his eyes to the first of the three floatrocks above the ship. He spotted a stately bush on it, covered in pink blossoms, which was buzzing with the coming and leaving butterflies. Benové sighed blood-curlingly and conversation-demanding. Vasmir noticed she had for the first time taken off her many bags. She looked slim and, most of all, bored.
"No maps? Papers, compasses, measuring tools?", Vasmir bantered. Benové looked to the sailors. Four out of five wore wizard's belts, and she had seen over twenty collectors. After Korslamin's urgent instructions, she didn't want to imagine the reaction if she turned up with drawing tools. She groaned inside. Maps of the Pillar Street were really lucrative, and the air view was fantastic.
"I suspect I couldn't take it as well as you when they threw me overboard, just because my solan dug a hole through two decks", she said loftily. Vasmir looked, made uncertain, for Mokri, who was peacefully playing with her companions. No signs that the pound-o'-rodent would bring doom upon the world's largest dustship. Orjugran giggled.
"Well", Vasmir answered with dignity, "if one will create destruction worthy of mention in history, one should at least survive it to tell the bards the story correctly."
Benové inclined her head to show she yielded, Orjugran applauded lightly.
"The Gral-én'tach will not fall from the skies from a simple digging fit of a solan." The sailor nimbly set down on the railing and took the half step down to the deck. The railing didn't reach the hip of the many raganaj sailors. Her solan, an wiry creature, spryly scurried over her middle wing to the ropes and hurried to the playground. "They tell each other how things are done aboard. Don't worry", she turned to Vasmir, grinning.
The sailor's name was Map'heela, she was amiable and very proud of the ship. It was her pleasure to indulge them with stories about passengers and journeys, the weather was pleasant, the sea colourful in the shallow waters and mysterious in the deep. When Benové had Map'heela about to take her to the navigator to gain permission to map, the sea arched below them. Moments later a smooth island rose, quickly gliding forwards, followed by an enormous tailfin that slapped the water thunderously.
"The horr."

Map'heela said it quietly into their astonishment. The tailfin had been just the first, many more backs and fins followed; some horr rose up further from the water and fell back heavily. The swarm was seemingly endless. It was said it was so big, it all but spanned the world. Orjugran was at first stiff with astonishment, then broke into ardent restlessness, ran to and fro and gestured wildly, while she buried Map'heela in questions.
"Do they pass Gdera in the north or south? Do they rest in the Ryaq? How many are there? How old do they become? Is it true they eat ships?"
"That you can check yourself", Map'heela laughed, then jumped over the railing to follow other sailors into the rigging. The shadow of the floatrocks quickly crossed the deck while the ship was lowered, until they were only a few dozen meters from the surface, and could see the young horr under their parents. Some fountains they blew up almost reached the ship, and it seemed to Vasmir like the horr also came up higher out of the water now. The Gral-én'tach was enormous, but the horr dwarfed it. Orjugran hung far over the railing, tail twitching excitedly.
"Can we go too?", she inquired breathlessly and punched Vasmir with the elbow. She pointed towards one of the smaller rocks, which had so far been floating below the ship. Now they were low over the water, and two carried raganaj and other passengers. Vasmir liked flying with Orjugran, but it was part of the game to play hard to get.
"I dunno; with all those fountains and your twitchy tail, we might drop into this grinding apparatus of fish."
"Oh, I'll warn you, and I'll hold perfectly still", Orjugran assured him eagerly. Devotedly, and suppressing a grin, he held open his arms. Orjugran stepped on his foot, stressing to hold her trembling tail still, and held on to Vasmir's arm. Vasmir swung over the railing and let them fall. At least his worries about the fountains were real, but Orjugran kept her word and warned him about every single one. The floatrock was just large enough they could stand on it comfortably, but Vasmir had to use his wings to keep them from falling, while Orjugran was pointing in every direction. The procession of horr endlessly swam past them. After three hours, they had crossed its width and rose up again, and Vasmir and Orjugran returned aboard. Benové and a crewmember sat in comfortable, slightly oversized low seats; she just laid finishing strokes on a map.
"Navigator Pakrahna bought my powerline maps", she said contently, stamped the paper and handed it over with both hands.
"We appreciate quality", said the navigator and returned Benové's politeness. Orjugran loosed her flood of impressions on Benové, enriched with gestures and sound effects. Finally, she sat down exhaustedly. A moment she was still, then started rummaging around in her pockets. Finally, she pulled a paper out that had been folded many times, on which she put two marks with Benové's pen. Mokri, who sat on Orjugran's chair's back, squeaked inquiringly.
"Go on a dustship - check. See the horr - check", Orjugran said more than satisfied and put away the paper. "Now, a hiller in Lozir, and I'll call this journey a success."

Artist's notes
I hope my use of prepositions isn't awful. I'll be happy for corrections. This is one of my first attempts to provide prose for Genius Loci and was written in German first. From names to my personal expressions this was hard to translate; I think it went okay, but I'd love to hear opinions.

Die Horr

Artist's notes
This was the original German text to the translated English version above that I provide here for your interest. While I ususally get along fine in English, I am a native in a different tongue.

[...]
Nach zweieinhalb Tagen eingesperrt in ihren Kabinen - verschwenderisch ausgestatteten Kabinen, aber auch ein goldener Käfig war ein Gefängnis - war es wohltuend endlich an die Luft zu kommen. Es war eine unerfreuliche Eröffnung gewesen als die Kapitänin angekündigt hatte, sie dürften nicht einmal dem Abheben zusehen. Außerdem nicht die vorgeschriebenen Korridore verlassen oder irgendwelche Zeichnungen des Schiffs anfertigen, die Mannschaft ausfragen und noch eine Anzahl anderer teils absurd scheinender Anweisungen, die Ordschugran dazu veranlasst hatten die Mannschaft als wahngeplagte Bande von vermutlichen Halsabschneidern zu bezeichnen, nur weniger höflich. Kapitänin Korslamin hatte über den garrischen Unmutsausbruch gelacht, aber nur kurz, erklärt, dass sie Folgsamkeit erwartete, und jeden beflüstern würde der die Anweisungen missachtete.
Jetzt waren anscheinend alle Manöver abgeschlossen, die den Mitreisenden hätten verraten können wie das legendäre Staubschiff flog, und die Mannschaft war freundlich; ebenso wie das Wetter, das unerwartet sonnig für den Frühling in der Säulenstraße schien.
Ordschugran, die sich wohlig in der Sonne räkelte, Wasmir mit einer aufgeregten Mokri auf der Schulter und Benowe trafen sich auf dem Mitteldeck, auf dem auch andere Passagiere herum spazierten. Wasmir blinzelte in den fast wolkenlosen Himmel; die Tage vor und während des Abflugs hatte es wechselnd stark geregnet.
"Es wird trockener Richtung Lozir", gähnte Benowe, "falls ihr euch wundert warum es nicht mehr regnet." Die Kartnerin kannte sich mit den meisten Klimalagen aus und hatte auch sonst viel zusätzliches Wissen über ihre Reiseziele zu bieten. Sie streckte sich und stützte sich etwas wacher zwischen Ordschugran und Wasmir auf die Reling. Mokri tummelte sich mit einer Handvoll Solano mit einem Ball.
Unter ihnen erstreckte sich das mit einzelnen Felsnadeln gepunktete Meer. An vielen Stellen war es so flach dass man den Boden sehen konnte - Riffe, auch Wracks von Seeschiffen, unzählige Fische. Wasmir bedauerte dass er die Seevolksiedlungen vor der Küste verpasst hatte. Die Fahrt auf dem Staubschiff aber war einige Entbehrungen wert. Die Bewegung war absolut glatt, und die Gral-én'tach war so groß dass sie den Eindruck eines kleinen Dorfs machte. Die Mannschaft hatte Freizeit während die Fahrt so ruhig war, und spielte miteinander, den Solano oder den vielen Flugtieren die auf dem Schiff zuhause waren. Auf dem Hinterdeck bildete der Botenmeister einige der halbmetergroßen Hallrömmfalter und seinen Lehrling aus, eine Handvoll Jaafe jagte sich um die Masten. Wasmir folgte den Hallrömms mit den Augen bis zum vorderen der drei Flugfelsen die über dem Schiff hingen. Er entdeckte einen stattlichen Busch darauf, mit rosa Blüten bedeckt, um den ein emsiges Kommen und Gehen der Schmetterlinge herrschte. Benowe seufzte markerschütternd und gesprächsheischend. Wasmir fiel auf dass sie das erste Mal ihre vielen Taschen abgelegt hatte. Sie wirkte schmal und vor allem gelangweilt.
"Kein Kartenwerk? Papiere, Zirkel, Messgerät?", fragte Wasmir neckend. Benowe sah zu den Seglern. Mehr als vier Fünftel von ihnen trugen Zauberergürtel, und sie hatte über zwanzig Sammler gesehen. Nach Korslamins eindringlichen Anordnungen mochte sie sich nicht vorstellen wie die Reaktion ausfiele wenn sie mit Zeichenwerkzeug aufkreuzte. Sie stöhnte innerlich. Karten der Säulenstraße brachten wirklich viel Geld ein, und die Luftperspektive war fantastisch.
"Ich glaube nicht dass ich so gut wie du überstünde wenn sie mich über Bord würfen, nur weil mein Solan ein Loch durch zwei Decks buddelte", erwiderte sie leichthin. Unsicher blickte Wasmir zu Mokri, die friedlich mit ihren Gefährten spielte. Keine Anzeichen dass der pfundschwere Nager den Untergang des größten Staubschiffs der Welt herbeiführen würde. Ordschugran kicherte.
"Nun", erwiderte Wasmir würdevoll, "wenn man schon geschichtsträchtige Zerstörung anrichtet sollte man sie wenigstens überleben können um danach die Dichter zu belehren."
Benowe neigte den Kopf um ihre Aufgabe zu bedeuten, Ordschugran applaudierte verhalten.
"Die Gral-èn'tach stürzt nicht von einem einfachen Grabanfall eines Solan ab." Eine Matrosin setzte leichtfüßig auf der Reling auf und ging mit einem halben Schritt aufs Deck hinunter. Die Reling reichte den zahlreichen Raganaj an Bord nicht bis zur Hüfte. Ihr Solan, ein drahtiges Geschöpf, wieselte flink über ihren mittleren Flügel in die Seile und beeilte sich zum Spielplatz zu kommen. "Sie erzählen einander wie's an Bord läuft. Keine Sorge", wandte sie sich grinsend an Wasmir.
Die Matrosin hieß Map'hila und war freundlich und deutlich stolz auf das Schiff. Bereitwillig erzählte sie von Fahrten und Passagieren, das Wetter war angenehm, das Meer farbenprächtig im flachen Wasser und geheimnisvoll im tiefen. Als Benowe Map'hila schon fast soweit hatte sie zum Navigator zu bringen um eine Genehmigung zum Kartieren zu bekommen, wölbte sich unter ihnen das Meer nach oben. Augenblicke später erhob sich eine glatte Insel die schnell vorwärts glitt, dann folgte eine gewaltige runde Schwanzflosse, die mit einem Donnerknall aufs Wasser schlug.
"Die Horr."

Map'hila sagte es ruhig in ihr Staunen hinein. Die Schwanzflosse war nur die erste gewesen, es folgten viele weitere Rücken und Flossen; einige Horr stiegen weiter aus dem Wasser empor und ließen sich schwer fallen. Der Schwarm schien kein Ende zu nehmen. Es hieß er sei so groß dass er fast die Welt umspannte. Ordschugran war erst in Staunen erstarrt, dann in begeisterte Unruhe verfallen, wuselte hin und her und gestikulierte wild, während sie Map'hila mit Fragen überschüttete.
"Schwimmen sie nördlich oder südlich um Gdera herum? Rasten sie im Ryaq? Wie viele sind es? Wie alt werden sie? Ist es wahr dass sie Schiffe essen?"
"Das kannst du selbst überprüfen", lachte Map'hila während sie über die Reling sprang und anderen Matrosen ins Segelwerk folgte. Die Schatten der Felsen liefen übers Deck während sie an Höhe verloren, bis sie nur noch wenige Dutzend Meter über dem Wasser hingen und die Jungtiere unter den Eltern ausmachen konnten. Einige der Fontänen reichten fast ans Schiff heran, und es schien Wasmir als ob die Horr jetzt auch höher aus dem Wasser kamen. Die Gral-én'tach war riesig, aber die Horr waren um einiges größer. Ordschugran hing mit erregt peitschendem Schwanz weit über die Reling.
"Können wir auch?", fragte sie atemlos und boxte Wasmir mit dem Ellbogen. Sie zeigte auf einen der kleinen Felsen die bisher weit unter dem Schiff gehangen hatten. Jetzt waren sie nur noch knapp über dem Wasser, und zwei trugen Raganaj und Passagiere. Wasmir flog gern mit Ordschugran, aber es gehörte dazu dass er sich zierte.
"Ich weiß nicht; mit den Fontänen und deinem Schwanz stürzen wir womöglich in dieses Mahlwerk aus Fisch."
"Oh, ich warne dich, und ich halte ganz still", versicherte Ordschugran eifrig. Ergeben und unterdrückt grinsend hielt Wasmir die Arme auf. Ordschugran stellte sich auf seinen Fuß und hielt mühsam den zitternden Schwanz still während sie sich an Wasmirs Arm klammerte. Wasmir schwang sich sitzend über die Reling und ließ sich fallen. Zumindest seine Sorge über die Fontänen war echt, aber Ordschugran hielt Wort und berichtete von jeder einzelnen. Der Fels war gerade groß genug um bequem darauf zu stehen, aber Wasmir musste die Flügel einsetzen damit die in alle Richtungen zeigende Ordschugran nicht fiel. Der Zug der Horr schwamm unendlich an ihnen vorbei. Nach drei Stunden hatten sie seine Breite überquert und stiegen wieder höher, sodass Wasmir und Ordschugran an Bord zurückkehrten. Benowe und ein Schiffer saßen in bequemen, etwas übergroßen Sitzpfuhlen; sie legte letzte Hand an die Legende einer Karte.
"Navigator Pakrana kaufte meine Kraftlinienkarten", erklärte sie zufrieden, stempelte das Papier und überreichte es beidhändig.
"Wir wissen Qualität zu schätzen", sagte der Navigator und erwiderte Benowes Höflichkeit. Ordschugran ließ ihre Flut von Eindrücken auf Benowe los, unterstrichen mit Gesten und Lautmalereien. Schließlich ließ sie sich erschöpft in einen Pfuhl fallen. Einen Moment hielt sie still, dann begann sie in ihren Taschen zu kramen. Schließlich zog sie einen oft gefalteten Zettel hervor, auf dem sie mit Benowes Stift zwei Markierungen setzte. Mokri piepste fragend.
"Staubschiff fliegen - jepp. Horr sehen - jepp", sagte Ordschugran überaus zufrieden und räumte den Zettel wieder weg. "Jetzt noch einen Berger in Lozir und ich nenne diese Reise einen Erfolg."

Burrmo

The burrmo are large predators of the Great Forest in Gdera. They are about three meters long, with a plushy tail, long head, and dirty-looking greenish fur. Burrmo are man-eaters - literally, in a group of people, they'll go for the humans first. Otherwise they hunt appropriately large quarry. The burrmos' ferocity is infamous, and being allowed to wear any part of them is an honour; most wanted are the thick fur and hide, claws, and teeth. Several body parts make a festive dish for hunters. Only skilled and extremely shrewd hunters will get a burrmo, however.

"Korr the mage invented burrmo-steel, that is all but indestructible. Entirely appropriate, but the good joke didn't bring my arm back."
— Kalvemar, hunter

Burrmos have been long known for stealing children from humans and other species, and also other animals. Rrani, gubras, even pervons have been seen hunting alongside them and obvioulsy been part of the pack. The best known abductees are the burrmo princes Darous and Darem, elven twins that have been their spokesmen for years, and are taken as bad omens by travellers these days. The actual lord or lady of the burrmo are not publicly known.

"They dropped down from the branches, struck down everyone but the humans, ate the iunas, and fled with their victims. Nine days later two of them emerged from the forest again. They never said how the got away from the burrmos, but they had been given provisions and pointed the way. I later heard they left the Forest for good."
— Ninkang, Greatforester

Artists' notes
I love inventing animals, and burrmo are among my current favourites, from their spelling to the abduction habit, but sketching them was hard. This is often the case for especially my critters since there are so many possibilites and my descriptions usually come first; but writing and drawing work differently, and sometimes I describe things that are really hard to get across visually.

Funi Oldjor

The funi oldjor are creatures of legendary might. In A'ruhs, the rhu'khach language, their name means "king of honour". Funi, as they are called for short, live in the Lozirian wilderness. They are hunters, and it is said they choose one opponent whom they hunt down, to challenge them to a duel. And that there's no escape from them. The duel need not end in death, but there is a certain etiquette to follow; it's considered impossible to hunt a funi outside of a duel it chose itself, and on the few occasions it was tried, the funi created terrible devastation. The few survivors swore the funi could whisper.

"Then it bowed to me. And then it came charging. I parried, I struck, I jumped aside; it bit, it kicked, it tumbled me like a ball. Finally, breathlessly, I came to stand again, but only just; it bowed again. I bowed back. Then it left. I have never come home from hunt without quarry again."
— Eralin, Lozirian hunter 

A funi oldjor is as tall as a human, slender, and white with dark saddle and mouth, and has a red-tipped tail. It's said this red colour was the blood of its slain enemies when it swishes through it.
Funi have recently gained even greater renown when their rulers, Lord Giva and Lady Tchiboyé, came to human society to teach them shapeshifting.

"The speakers think one of them is a human, but don't know which one. So human shapeshifters never died out after all? Or is shapeshifting a gift a beast lord gives their love?"
— Genarha, Lozirian

Artists' notes
Ah, mythological beasts, I could invent them all day. These are rooted deeply in the history of Genius Loci already, since their lords came forward to teach the lost art of shapeshifting again. And they are the first who were a couple, almost all other lords I invented are single. Except for the burrmo, who stole children.

Hillers

It's said that each continent or element has its own biggest animal, which are so attuned, or incredible, that they function outside the normal workings of living creatures. Hillers are considered the embodiment of the powers of the earth, and thus to be Lozirian animals, although there are some in Sawa as well, and nobody knows what hides under the canopy of Gdera's forests.

"Some of the hiller tribe spoke to the hiller by waving flags. They said they used them to talk about which way to go, but from what I saw, their conversation was much deeper than that."
— Sasi, traveller

It's said that they are born under mountains, and when they are big and strong enough, lift the mountain up and walk away. Their gargantuan bodies are covered with rocks and sediment, and they are big enough to house a large tribe. Hillers move very, very slowly, nobody knows what they eat, and there's barely a way of communicating with them, although those who live on them can tell if the hiller is happy, sad, or calm. Hillers seem to generally enjoy the company of humans, especially when they decorate their mobile home.


Artists' notes
The original German name is Berger, which would translate to mountainer, but it lost its whimsicality in the translation, and I went with hiller instead. Walking mountains are a wonderfully fantastic idea,  and they make several appearances in Genius Loci. I haven't even invented all biggest animals yet, but the horr in the seas and the clouders in the skies are of similar incredulity.

The horr

Horr aren't normally mentioned in singular, because there seem to be no individual swimmers among them. The gigantic sea beasts instead only appear as swarms, or more specifically, as one swarm, so large it would emcompass an entire continent if they swam in a line. A horr is far over a hundred meters long, has four flippers and four eyes and thus is able to see below and above him. They are dark greyish blue in colour, with a dull red stripe on the side.

"That was a day to remember, when the horr pushed themselves into the fleet parade and dwarfed the ships that had seemed majestic and huge moments before. They are given their own holiday now, and seem to greatly enjoy the attention; they even take a small detour to come by our coast."
— Ordjugral, Sawan

The horr swarm is not very well researched. Their enormous size makes it difficult to get close; while horr are quite gentle creatures, they go about their business trusting that smaller things (like ships) will make way. They seem to like the Summerstar Isles in southeast Ryaq, and are said to know paths between oceans not known to mankind. Horr are not hunted. Aside from the incredible effort it takes, the last time a horr was killed in Lozir, the swarm stayed away for a Great Quarter and with it, most other sealife as well.


Artists' notes
Whales have always held great fascination for me, and never cease to amaze me with their intelligence and integrity. Horr are my chance of mystery on top of it. Because they're so difficult to travel and opportunities so different, many fantasy worlds leave out great parts of the sea, but I intend to give Genius Loci a lot of ocean adventures as well.

Art on deviantArt: Gubra and the Great forest caravan

Two new artworks are now published on deviantArt with new quotes: A concept of the gubra, and a caravan trekking through the mid-level of the Great Green forest. Both have their own articles in the blog as well, which the gubras share with their Lord Gahatenge, while the forest has more room to itself.

Art on deviantArt: Segrame race

I'm trying to get away from only showing concepts of Genius Loci, and provide proper paintings instead. Of course, they take much more time, and sometimes it simply takes too long to keep up the speed of three or four blog entries per month, especially since some need more than one image. Such is the case with the coming article on mounts. For now, there's the zehgraams (German: Segramen) on deviantArt: http://ranarh.deviantart.com/art/Genius-Loci-Zehgraam-race-563588823
And also with some WIPS and sketches on cgsociety.

Art on deviantArt: Asgaan

The illustration previously published in the article on animal lords can now be seen on deviantArt as Asgaan, queen of the orlas.

Umarvas

Umarvas are creatures with rusty red fur, a dark dorsal stripe, and dark paws; they are about thirty centimeters high, have large bright eyes, and seem plump in their thick pelt. In the wild, these nocturnal animals are very shy; around humans, they can only be found in voice halls. Here, they are peaceful co-dwellers of the voices, ostentatively ignoring visitors. Umarvas can be found everywhere except southern Sawa.

"As if the voice hall wasn't creepy enough, around midnight all the umarvas got up, gathered in the garden and silently stared up to a dwarf woman in a frock, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, then collectively turned around and returned to the hall. I've never slept in a hall again."
— Enipomor, mercenary

As mysterious as the umarvas are is their unnamed queen. As all her subjects, she seems to only talk to voices. She can be seen travelling with them and is most often spotted in northern Gdera. As a human, she has the appearance of a dwarven woman with umarva-coloured hair, in simple clothing and hairdo. The queen has a habit of quietly standing at the path's edge and observing, but leaves when others than voices come near. She has been reported to behave the same way in the Area, where she has been spotted frequently.

"Maybe it's not important what she's called when she hasn't introduced herself. I think you'll know when you call her her right name."
— Huun, voice

Artists' notes
Another animal lord, or rather, lady. Umarvas are another strange addition to the voices, who harbour so many secrets - from what makes the world go round to why only left socks ever go missing. I also enjoy quiet animals in games that you meet in the wild and for a change do not want to eat you.

Radseri Spiritfriend

Radseri is the foremost expert on nature spirits. The Sawan elf has been studying them from early childhood and learned at the renowned School of Magic in Gamahan. Today, he travels to learn more about spirits; everyone agrees he has a special connection to spirits, but nobody can really say what that is.

"Radseri is known to us. He told the people of the town on my home mountain my wishes and made them understand when I could not. He is as good as a fleeter and wants less, we wish him well."
— Molmorur, the spirit of the Nonobur volcano

Radseri has human parentage and a quiet character, and is regarded as sitting in the ivory tower, but is undisputably a genius in his field. He can be seen playing with spirits all the time, splashing through rivers and running across meadows, but he is serene, well-spoken, and a good advisor to those seeking his counsel, and very undiscriminating. It is sometimes matter of concern to the same leaders who ask his help, that Radseri always hears both parties and may decide in favour of the spirits.

"And here we thought we understood our spirits just fine. The entire elven population of the city might have been killed by that unfortunate business with the collector's chest, had Radseri not intervened."
— Onitsor, councilman

Artists' notes
Radseri first appeared in a quote for a nature spirits concept where he said they made him become a mage, and he later received his own painting. I was long undecided if he was an elf or a human, but finally settled on elf because they are attuned to nature and spirits anyway.

Moochs

Moochs are peaceful flying animals found mostly in and around Lozir, but also wherever the air is favourable. Moochs aren't fast and glide slowly around in small flocks or sometimes singledly. They are held up by gaseous bags in their bodies, and it's said that larger moochs don't touch the ground at all. They are covered in eye-like spots and vary greatly in size, from the Pillar Street mooch spanning almost six meters, to the pocketsized arrowmooch. While peaceful, they can defend against attacking birds of prey well enough. Moochs are not hunted by humans.
Although they are docile and come to be fed and get attention, they don't bond and show no interest in the affairs of people, and there are no domesticated moochs. What they eat when they don't get vegetable treats is unknown; some think they don't eat at all.
Moochs are the only known creatures to go to the seraph cities, but scholars are puzzled as to why and how.

"Our hallromm tribe showed the moochs what they thought of them getting all the attention from smut Fresian. We had to patch up half of them, but the moochs didn't come back. Which made our cargo hold goldfairy cry. The disorder of the cargo is unbelievable, and I'll need to fix the fairy's mood somehow."
— Sefinama, dustship captain

Artists' notes
The German original, "Much", is a difficult phonetic translation; speak "mooch" with the same ending as Scottish "loch". So, yeah, flying rays, I couldn't stop myself, although it's a bit of a fantasy/sci-fi trope, but I love the shapes so much. There are places (in Africa, I think) where actual rays come to the shore to play with children and be petted, which is very, very cute, and I brought some of that into moochs' behaviour.

Shapeshifting

Following the disastrous worldwide conflict of the Splinter War in the 48th and 49th century, shapeshifting was outlawed by any country that considered itself civilized. It was agreed that shapeshifting changed one's heart; how should one be unaffected by turning into beasts or monsters?
About three centuries ago, however, evidence was unearthed that indeed the mind remains untouched by the change. Of course, even if news travel fast, not everyone today knows or accepts this. It might take shapeshifters centuries to regain acceptance.

"Naturally, the shapeshifters fulfilled a role in society that, when left empty, created a hole that we only now slowly begin to understand."
— Vatarna, mage, in a lecture

Shapeshifters are spell users, whisperers, or were born with the ability. Whisperers can only change slightly. Spells are powerful, but don't last very long. Born shifters, depending on skill, can change their appearance or physiology indefinitely, and turn into creatures or even things. These are still feared today even by openminded experts.
Although it's hereditary, few shapeshifters are born. It's more likely to have shifter children when the parents shifted much, but most shapeshifting is done with spells. Much spellcasting in turn means the children are likely to be speakers, and speakers are never shapeshifters.

"The elves were the first to jump at the chance of changing their outsides. I suppose it was to be expected - if regular twins want to be different, how must it be to look like everyone in town?"
— Blinai Namtoneh, historian

Artists' notes
I had created a huge war with shapeshifters early on. The logical conclusion was that shapeshifters would fall victim to genocide; prejudice and paranoia would bring anyone to the gallows who was suspected to have the gift. I then found that I robbed myself of a charming magical feature of fantasy worlds and thought hard how to get it back. I finally decided that the relentless effort and insatiable curiosity of the mages could rediscover the truth, and here we are.

Orlas

"If any of my orla pups turns out to be half as good a tracker as Senbror's Gray, I'll make him the father of all my following breeds. Although, their colouring could be more distinct."
— Krinor, orla breeder

Orlas are large warmblooded reptiles, about a meter and forty long including the tail. Their skin is blue with brown stripes; the netorla breed has a netlike pattern, the waterorla breed is greyish blue with a pale belly. All orlas have a small collar and a spiky crest on the head and shoulders. Orlas are fantastic companions for hunting, they're flexible enough to fit into most burrows, they can swim, run, and climb, and so it doesn't matter that they're too quickly fatigued to run down prey. They're friendly and happy to learn, and their favourite treat are the heads of dried amfas. Orlas are quite popular pets, and much friendlier and easier to keep, breed, and train than gubras.
The most known orlas - aside from their queen Asgaan - are the two companions of the wizard Senbror, creator of the famous collar, Gray and Catcher, who are the stuff of legend, and it's the ultimate goal of any breeder to get just one orla like either of those two.

Artists' notes
I imagine orlas to be the frolicking happy kind of companion animal, like the mount of Obi-Wan in Star Wars Episode III, similar to border collies. I've always liked reptiles and have seen them to be quite amiable sometimes, being happy to be scratched and taken care of, and wanted orlas to be just like that. 

Awlies

Awlies are a kind of livestock that's popular worldwide. They are large herbivores that never really stop growing but usually are slaughtered by reaching the human knee. Awlies have grey forelegs, chest, and head, a red spot on the forehead and red ear insides. They are easily satisfied and lay about ten small round eggs a day, their soft fur is made into clothing, and the meat is good for eating, although it quickly takes on a sweetly taste. The skin is made into leather or parchment.
Young children love the quiet awlies who happily let them play among them and don't mind them cuddling in the soft fur. Unlike with many other pets, bug fairies don't mind awlies going to the block too much.

"After my second marriage, we became vegetarians, which was good for the children because the awlies would live, and better for the awlies themselves because they grew to my shoulder. Then one night, they broke out of the pen and vanished into the forest. My son swears he still sees them wander by our well."
— Nevenur, farmer

Artists' notes
There is an entire Genius Loci bestiary by now. Animals are so important to fantasy settings - with so much wilderness, there must be wildlife, too, even if awlies better qualify as cattle. I wanted to have as few Earth animals as possible. I'm not entirely decided if there will be any creatures we know at all - for now, there are bears and dogs, but maybe I'll change that.

Elementarians: Plasmats

Plasmats are the elementarians of fire and the south. They are made of hot air, made visible by structures of molten dirt - the enormous heat tranforms any material into precious stones, and plasmat gems are said to have great supernatural properties. Their shape is a bulky legless torso with a flat head and strong arms, the size changes fluidly between several and several dozen meters. It's the plasmats' choice what they burn. They have a good feeling for earth's heat and often travel to new volcanoes to greet them.

"Overcoming weaknesses is a principle of the south, and my plasmat teacher really made it a point. When he sent me into the world, I felt like I had been thoroughly reconstructed."
— Crowned Aslahenaed of Brighthold

Plasmats are seen as harbingers of change and are counted among the good omens. They are also muses and can light the spark of inspiration in both leaders and artists, who seek them out to be taught. Plasmat mentors are relentless, but very successful, and all their apprentices have done great deeds. It's said the rhu'khach had been under their blessing.

"I heard a plasmat is on his way to the Gorngon plateau. I guess soon it won't be so flat anymore."
— Ferha, messenger

Artists' notes
I am rather fond of the name plasmat. I was looking for nice, innovative names for elementarians, and classic dryads and stone giants were nicely completed by fleeters and plasmats, I think. Teaching great heroes is a bit inspired by the centaur that taught Hercules - mythical creature teaching mortal.