The ysstmar is a proud reptilian race. Their isolationist policy has resulted in stagnation, haughtily scrutinizing down at the desert with absolute contempt. In their eyes, they are the sands made flesh. The true scions to the rolling dunes and see the other races as interlopers and meddlers. Their society is run by chieftains, who are selected based on the notoriety of their genealogy. Or their achievements within the current cycle. These saurians understand each generation is its own self-contained universe. An egg that fractures and leaves behind another one in its place. That from the yoke spilled, the next can strengthen itself.
When it comes to the employment of the arcane, as a group, they fancy earth, and fire, as in their mind, it faultlessly encapsulates their arid homeland. The ysstmar believe the reasoning behind why they have yet to command dominion. It is primarily due to the pollution within their people that has diluted their lineage. As punishment, they must tarry and wallow as repentance until such a time as the egg has enough yoke devoured to steer toward the ideal iteration of their species. The shamans are seen as the grains incarnate, often beseeched during trying times for wisdom. Customarily, marriage within their society is regarded as only the right of the strong. Those weak are not permitted to lay eggs or fertilize them. When hatchlings are born, they are inspected. If deformed, they are smashed against the jagged rocks and tossed down the canyon.
When one of merit dies, the tribe congregates and dismembers their carcass—laying out those severed limbs to be roasted over a fire, shortly thereafter consumed by the weak with the hopes it would improve their feeble state of being. Being prideful by nature, these lizards see any allegation against them as hostility. They grimace toward their fallen victims while traveling on the backs of their domesticated sandworms. The only other races they recognize are the Union, chiefly due to their prior skirmishes on the battlefield. Everyone else, they treat with scorn until such a time as they exhibit their worth as a child of the sands.
Faction- Their race
Location- Bandits pass living on top of the mountains.