The Norwood is a region in northern Ekwara, bordered by Auln to the northeast, the furthest reaches of Aelbin to the east, Olsraug fe Danag to the southwest and Cobet to the south. It is primarily forested, with a fair amount of coastal area along the northern border. A low, old mountain range runs through the southern part of the region, and marks an informal border between the Norwood and Aelbin.
The Norwood is a wild place, with a high vedrig population, and many communities of tunnel-folk. There are colonial farming communities and several endrich meets. Since I’ve been asked to tell you about the animals here, you can wonder about the people until another time.
The forests and coasts are more fertile than Auln, and it’s a little warmer, too. This makes it a more hospitable place for scavja. Those are hoofed creatures. Your horses, deer, cattle… Here in Ekwara, their established populations have gained strange powers. Along with making some of them quite troublesome to deal with, it makes them hungrier, and that doesn’t mesh well with a cold desert. There’s plenty for them to eat in the Norwood. This means there are much less of Auln’s larger mammal-ish egg-layers (those are collectively called “missrer” by the Auln jaunx) roaming about. The scavja have run them off.
The speckled scavja is a deer-sized, deer-shaped thing, but it is actually a rhinoceros. These creatures do not usually grow horns. Only rare few in the population will, and those that do possess the single horn, like among all scavja, also have heightened magical abilities. The speckled scavja’s power is an empathic awareness of its herd. Horned speckled scavja can actually control the herd’s movements. This defensive power makes them tricky prey, and a controlled herd has been known to go on the offensive against predators.
The other common scavja of the forest is the tromple, a horse-sized, heavyset beast, also a rhinoceros, and also usually lacking a horn. They are solitary animals, usually found alone or small groups of mothers and their immature young. Their power is a painful blast within the minds of those with whom they make eye contact. Horned tromples can produce a blast strong enough to kill. Because of this power, their only main predator are the vedrig.
Of course, the v
edrig themselves are scavja. Never call them that, trust me. Their power? They’re immune to all this beastly magic, and their hunting keeps the scavja in check. The farmers from Cobet and Auln are very glad to work with local vedrig, to gain their protection.
The Norwood’s other herbivores are small. There are a number of rabbit species, and many are tiny, only the size of mice. Here is a picture of a night rabbit, which is the size of a rat or squirrel. They are, as their name suggests, nocturnal, and possess both excellent hearing and low-light vision.
There is an aquatic rabbit species, too. The water rabbit has much shorter ears, is only a little smaller than a jaunx, and builds a domed stick home for its family in the middle of lakes and ponds. Rabbit families are large, and these creatures are plentiful both in the Norwood and along the northern coast, south of Auln.
There is also a species of moon rat in the Norwood. On your world, there’s a creature related to hedgehogs called a moon rat. Ours are nothing of the sort. They’re named thus because they are nocturnal and howl at the moon. I should also clarify that they are not rats, nor rodents, but closer to the ancestors of your raccoons. The moon rats in the Norwood are fairly large, as they come, about as big as a very large rat. They roam the trees and forest floor, hunting insects, tiny wyverns and rabbits, and scavenging anything else, plant or animal, they can get their paws on. They can be a pest to farmers, as they will happily raid crops.
This lovely dinosaur is a stickledrake. These creatures are around the size of wild boars, and behave similarly. They are quite clever, pack-creatures, and by saying they’re omnivores, I mean that they will eat anything they can get their claws on.
You might like to hear a little about the wyverns, reptiles and amphibians in the Norwood, but first, we should return to the story.
The dirt road from Acorn to Bramble made an easy route for twenty bandits, but their march wasn’t making it easy for the two children in tow. Jree, only four, rode on the shoulders of an old endrich woman. Matiph was old enough to walk on his own, and he shuffled down the path, last in line.
Once, apes came to Ekwara, and the endrich bear this ancestry. Thumbs on their feet, fur and long canine teeth, and most of all, an ape’s mind. I don’t have to explain much of that to humans. You might understand why they would let two orphaned children slow them down.
But, they were still thieves, and they would only tolerate so much of this. Matiph knew it, and kept his head down. He walked barefoot, in the lefthand wagon rut. If he looked up, he would see heavy fur cloaks, weapons and muscled backs. If he looked out into the woods, he would see the tangled ferny carpet and gnarled trunks of the old forest. He’d get chided for dallying if his eyes lingered, because something would catch his interest, and he would stop for a moment. There were tiny wyverns in the branches, and warm spring breezes through the trunks. He might catch a glimpse of a rabbit, or the rustle of leaves in its wake, and imagine it to be a fierce stickledrake instead. Matiph needed to keep his attention on the path.
Three endrich lead the band, set on their dastardly goal. Fighters, with scars showing through their fur, and the spoils of their trade strapped to their packs and at their sides: weapons, mismatched armor, and scavenged and stolen talismans – those are things from Earth.
Once, there was a man who was the vice principal of a middle school, and every day, as he left for work, his wife would hand him a mug with a sailboat on it, full of coffee. He couldn’t believe that he would actually go home with it still sitting… somewhere else. He could have sworn he’d brought it with him, but no. It was his favorite mug, and he never found it again. It came to Ekwara, and now it was carried on the first endrich’s belt, and held sling stones.
Once, there was old woman, who treasured a ring given to her long ago by her grandmother. She meant it for her youngest grandchild, when the time was right, but it slid down the drain, instead. Now it adorned the finger of the second endrich, an ill-gotten prize, no doubt.
That’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been. Important little things stay important after they’re gone, and find some purpose yet.
Once, there was a young man who wanted to be a storyteller. He went to a fair with his family, and spent the money they gave him for dinner on an agate pendant, instead. He wondered what sort of magical place such a thing might come from, what sort of magic it might itself possess. But, it went into a box, with other little treasures, and was eventually forgotten. Years later, he remembered it again, but the box and the pendant were long gone.
The chain bound to that pendant hooked around Matiph’s toe, as he plodded along in the wagon rut. The glint of the stone caught his eye. He knelt to pick it up.
Right at that moment, an arrow buzzed through the air, barely missing the young endrich’s head. It struck the tree behind him, THUNK! Matiph froze, fingers closed tight around the chain.
The line of bandits sprung to action. Big hands pulled weapons free of their bindings. That finger with the glittering ring pointed in the direction from which the arrow flew.
“Matiph, stay down!” That was the elderly endrich with Jree on her back. Matiph had no inclination to disobey. Even if he’d wanted to move, everything unfolded around him in a slow blur, buzzing like the arrow. Cloaks and clubs and buzzing in his ears.
“There,” growled the ring-thief. “See ‘em?”
A large bush shook. And spoke, in nervous, shrill voices. “I told you not to shoot!”, and such. The two hidden archers argued right until the third leading goblin stepped forward, with a confident snarl on her face.
Once, there was a man who bought a gun, and took sport in practicing his aim. He was proud of his skills and his collection, but one moment’s misfortune, and his car was stolen, with the gun inside. It never turned up, even when the car itself was found several days later. The third endrich drew the gun. She pointed it at the two hiding in the brush.
Not everyone in Ekwara knows what a gun is. The kenaki and the dragons’ servants do an excellent job of that, so most of Ekwara’s people know that guns are forbidden and terribly dangerous things from elsewhere. These bandits were certainly clever enough to make use of that reputation.
She held the gun and the two archers wilted, bows dropping to the ground.
Matiph stayed low.
The Blue Djinni is sitting, with worn blue robes wrapped around him, but his wings unfurled behind him. The clothing is simple, the same colors as his feathers, his skin, his scales. Both round lenses of his glasses are blue, but when he lowers the glasses, his eyes are orange, and reptilian.
With careful claws, he fiddles with the frame, and the lens pops free. He retrieves another lens, clear, from his robe, then snaps that into place.
He is preoccupied with the glasses, ignoring anything outside this concern, for the moment. He wraps the blue disks in cloth, then tucks them away. He puts the glasses back on, and adjusts them, and wrinkles his nose to test the spot before pulling his hands away. Maybe he doesn’t expect an audience, or needs to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t speak for a bit longer. He sits on the floor with his legs tucked under himself, and waits.
The surroundings, oddly enough, change to suit your expectation, though the place is, overall, quiet, and warm, and there are places to sit, if you decide you would like one. Beyond this room, this grove, this cave, there is something more, but it is dark, and regardless, the djinni pays it no mind.
“I have been summoned,” he says, voice youthful and faintly sibilant. His fangs show a little, when he speaks. Only a little. He has yet to smile. “And you would like a story? Some of you have heard some of it, I’m sure, but now I will tell it. And, I’ll be a good genie, and tell you more, as long as you are good humans… or whatever you are, and play along.
“This story of mine will be in pieces. You can come and go and speak as you please. I will tell you about Ekwara, which is near Earth, but not quite your world. Between Earth and Ekwara lies the domain of the djinn, and so it is that we speak. From Earth to Ekwara, lost things from your world pass, and are found in this other place, where they still have some purpose, yet. Everything which is lost, is lost for a reason. And that is where we will begin.”
