Only a fool faces to dispute the truth of this rancorous world, that to exist, one must ravage those lesser to stoke the fires of their ascension. Florentina was the runt of the litter, the last born, the least likely to transcend to her rightful station. Seeing herself as the ideal woman, an amalgamation between elegance and ferocity, she wasn't one to accept this lot so easily. While most might be content wallowing within their predetermined fate, this intrepid warrior endeavored to shatter the spine of destiny. If she were to be kept within her siblings shadows, it wouldn't be without ripping and tearing all that was sprawled out across her path. The tooth and claw, the might of martial prowess, had guided her spirit. Those muscles were honed, malleable, developed to reflect the apex predator spirit contained within the body.
Love, a misconception espoused by fools. Who despairingly sought to add purpose to what was a pitiable permanence. It held no jurisdiction over this cognizance, as each conflict brought her closer to the precipice. Blood, flesh, and bone were the instruments of her craft, and death, if it were an art form, then Florentina was a prodigy. The prey that challenged her might were crushed under that heel. Their families triturated, while their lamentations toiled as quite the symphony. The universe was hostile, so impossible to rationalize through any other lens. The will to survive that need to evolve. The stimulation of death endured as testimonials kindling her descent into the carnage. With each massacre, with each new post, the monk found herself refining this timeless craft. For all its presupposed adverse connotations, war was the undeniable catalyst on which civilization gorged itself to develop.
Within those emerald eyes, the Giantess beholds herself as the peak of feminity. The most ravishing lady to walk the lands, and a prize, few deserved to relish—sex, much like the tussle of conflict. It was merely an avenue to dominate her prey—playthings whose bodies and souls were designed to be pulverized beneath the yoke of her demands. The pleasures of the body, which she envisions herself a mistress of, were designated for a singular purpose—a means to seal covenants and fuel that ravening appetite for unfettered dominion. Her sisters were competitors, and while they might be cut from the same cloth, Florentina views them as hardly a menace warranting her attention. What is it that guides her powerful blows? What voracious craving keeps this agent of the Dynasty within that soon-to-be-shattered leash? That one truth, while hardly poetic, inferred guidance. That power is the currency of this world, and those unsuited were destined to be bricks for that imminent transcendence.
For what is it that fuels life, if not death?
The giants started as a nomadic society, dealing with the Mothkela as they were forced to bend the untamed land to their will. Spending generations understanding the harsh climate, taming its beast, and gaining a resilience to toxin and disease through a forced evolutionary process that resulted in half their kin perishing. Only the strong survived, as the Matron instilled in her people a sense of honor and respect for their opponents. The jungle's toadlin's proved their most worthy adversary, as the clan was forced to procreate in large quantities to replenish their lost brethren. Eventually they combined enchantment processes with their proclivity toward using their energy to manipulate flesh and bone. The giants believe that the world is a carcass. And that all life comes from the ashes of the fallen. A system of death and birth forever in a loop, as history and people repeat themselves in various incarnations.
They seek to peer into their dead remains for guidance, as they believe that organs, bone, and blood are the keys to unlocking the potential buried inside. As a result, they specialize in flesh magic, altering their form, endurance, strength, and the remains of the fallen. Taking parts of the dead prey as they fuse it with their body, as such, they can be witnessed having mammoth tusks, extra limbs, or even stingers. The additional growth remains inactive until they feed their energy into it, replenishing them if removed or not properly maintained. Their most significant import to the sands is lumber, lugging large carts full of cut trees as their arachnoid mounts carry the precious material to crystal town to be purchased and delivered by the merchant ships. Using the wealth to obtain vital resources and continue the growth of their settlement. Painting their bodies in their deads dyed blood, tattooing their cremated remains onto the skin, as symbols of their accomplishments that they carry into battle. It's rumored they can alter their size and parts of their body, that the most influential walk around loosely clothed with absurdly large features from genitalia to limbs, as a display of their inner power and mastery of their craft.
They prefer to use axes, warhammer, bows, and caster arms fitted for their larger bodies. Treating their armaments as if they were an extension of their extremities, believing one's weapon to be a continuation of their will, and never seen without it at their side. The giants take the carcasses, be it enemy, ally, or prey, and use them to construct elaborate structures of bone. They are utilizing the skin as they tan it into leather linings to coat their dwellings' interior. The roofs are shaped like a crab's shell, the walls pure skeletal structures with protruding ribs serving as columns for support, crafting weapons from the bones purchased with the coin from trading, crafting the dead into weapons, armors, and explosive-like devices. Hearkening to the Matron of the tribe for wisdom, when their ruler expires, their skeletal remains are utilized to add to their throne as the next leader sits on it, symbolizing their knowledge and power passing on. Those in command deemed unworthy are not granted this most sacred right, having their corpse left outside to be feasted on by carrions.
Jungle Faction Lore:
The Verdant Dynasty
The Verdant Dynasty is a collection of races united under the Jorgenskull rule and guided by a series of principles. This coalition forged to battle off their world's harsh climate, the unforgiving jungle necessitating unity or face potential extinction. All those part of this alliance contributes their resources to the whole, as each species maintains autonomy over their territories. They offer their young as soldiers and 10% resources to add to the pot in exchange for protection and technology. In turn, it brought harmony to a once turbulent realm, disseminating ideas and cultures as their differences slowly started to wane. Despite using wood and bone as the core of their society, they managed to keep up through magic implementation. They were rivaling that which had been achieved by the metal-based sands to the south. The dead are gathered and sorted. Their carcasses then used to erect buildings, roads and construct armaments for the Dynasty's people.
The order of the Red Sap.
The Red Sap order is an enigmatic group, bent on the mastery of magical and alchemical principles. Often found strung throughout the thick Jungle and the outer rim, growing their trees of flesh to extract their favored Red sap. Using the Mothkela moondust to produce a potent narcotic, this drug is said to confer them clairvoyance into aspects of the world, surpassing perception. While in this heavenly state, the mages can become untethered by the anxieties of this world, delivering their consciousness and bestowing them with the utmost efficiency in their arts. This thick syrup can be used to amplify their magic and extend resources by glazing the material or mixing the nectar with alchemical reagents to strengthen the effects. A secret only entrusted to a few to prevent the abuse of their most fastidious resource. Operating as spies, scholars, agents of law and order. This cult is often seeking new applications, for knowledge is temporary, but the glory of the Jorgenskull is forever..