The Dark Water

When the portals went dark, these were the places left behind. Spread apart by great distance, for a whole generation, these outposts of varying levels of self-sustainability were on their own. More importantly, the Jal'jin that inhabited them, were on their own.

Xála Mển Amchdá

“We often look back at the irony of it all. How the very fact that we were cast out of society to the farthest corners of the known universe to do what no others wanted is the very reason we still exist.”

Xála Mển Amchdá (Gray Wave Reef) was something of a prison planet for the Jal’jin. When an individual’s crimes were severe enough to warrant removing them from the population, they would inevitably find themselves in one of Xála Mển’s several penitentiaries. The planet might be covered in water, but it is only the localized terraforming around the penitentiaries that makes it at all habitable. The water outside of the clearly designated safe zones are full of corrosive chemicals and the air grows thin. As this planet was never intended for colonization of the general population, it housed the vast majority of industrial refineries that made the many alchemical materials needed for use back home. The reason they were based in Dark Water was, of course, because of the waste products that were created. As the waste was very similar to what existed naturally on the planet already, it was a perfect fit.

The prisoners worked the factories, mined the planet’s resources, and toiled to earn their freedom. While they would eventually be released if they served their time, working the more dangerous jobs was a guaranteed way of lessening the sentence. Of course, this doesn’t matter much for the few Jal’jin that make a career out of crime. To those Jal’jin found to be beyond rehabilitation, the sentence is generally indefinite. If they cannot be productive members of society, the courts will force them to be.

The planet is also home to an institute for the criminally insane. While there are genuinely insane people within, there are no shortage of oddball inventors that strayed too far from the natural way (magic) and dug into theories and technologies considered to be strictly forbidden to their kind.

Unsurprisingly, when the Sundering occurred, the number of inmates was about on par with the refugees with the advantage belonging to the more generally physically fit and prepared prisoners. While it was an intense period of negotiation, the prisoner and refugee population came to terms that cooperation was the only means of survival.

As an incalculable amount of knowledge of magic was lost back home as well as any infrastructure to make complex magics work, these misfits and their toxic home would come to form the backbone of not just rebuilding what they could do with magic but also improving their survival with novel advances in machining.

Cultural Quirks

In Xála Mển, there are two kinds of people. Those that follow without question and those who hold authority to account. If you have a position of authority, you have proven you should have it beyond just a simple vote. Given the number of outcasts, a large number of counter-culture Jal’jin you might meet are either from Xála Mển or were raised by some from there that managed to put on their best false smile when leaving. “Duskies” are not necessarily against authority, but more so believe that no stability can exist if it goes unchallenged.

Unlike just about everyone else, natives of Xála Mển tend to show very little skin when out and about with gas masks being worn as though it was just another part of the outfit.

Natives who make families here have sometimes thrown naming conventions completely out of the picture, taking on names that are entirely their own. This does, of course, lead to confusion to those not from Xála Mển who put more meaning into names than the locals do, but, as Duskies say, “That’s a personal problem.” There is no dominant ethnnic population here and is generally seen as the melting pot of the surviving colonies.

Fossteni

“Oh, yeah, it’s horrible here. The dirt is more like powdered rock, the water’s murky, weather unpredictable, the ground prone to shaking, and I’m pretty sure just about everything here wants to kill us. But did you see that land critter that Kalsti dragged back home?! What a catch!”

The planet was not what most Jal’jin would consider prime conditions to live in. It was perfectly safe to explore and many humans might consider it a true sight to behold. What it lacks, however, are oceans. Fossteni is made up of primarily rolling hills and mountains with high levels of geological activity. The Jal’jin’s initial settlement, dubbed Gíger Stöðav (Crater Lake), was the largest source of water on the surface: a massive crater surrounded by, what else, mountains. This is, in large part, why the name of the planet is derived from Fjell tongue: Waterfall of Stone.

The soil is poor to grow crops, both above and below the waters. Trying to maintain any sustainable crop growth was a constant battle and seen as the ultimate test of any agriculturalist the empire over. What’s more, life outside of Crater Lake was quite difficult. The local fauna was numerous, hostile, and far more adept at maneuvering the uneven landscape. Much like the land itself was a test to those who wished to grow crops, this planet was seen by many to be a proving ground to those who wished to claim to be a master of their preferred mode of combat.

So long as it wasn’t based in magic, that is. The planet had a very low amount of natural magic reserves which made traditional martial combat a requirement. While magical effects stored within items work just fine, magic reliant on pulling energy from the environment around you is effectively non-functional with very few exceptions.

What’s more, the weather is prone to change on a whim and the high level of geological activity brings about frequent earthquakes. Many scientists have seen the planet as an amazing location to test theories around weather patterns and geology alike.

So why did the Jal’jin choose to found an outpost here of all places despite how inhospitable it is? The raw materials. For starters, the earth world over is absolutely rich in metals of all kinds and the planet’s numerous trees aren’t just strong as hell but often have unique properties they had yet to find anywhere else.

This place was never intended to be without outside help. The Jal’jin were prepared for the possibility of a temporary portal disconnection, but not the Sundering. The flood of refugees strained their emergency rations and pushed these people to their limit. They quickly had to learn how to survive a hostile world far from far more familiar waves or starve to death.

Upon their rediscovery, the residents of Fossteni found the need of buildinging materials suddenly rekindled. Survival no longer was a simple matter of hunting. Once again, their people needed them. Now more than ever.

Cultural Quirks

Those native to or assimilated into Fosstenian life tend to be more hardened to the realities of conflict. There is a great deal of importance placed on not just immediate stability but also the long term. Before any battle or undertaking, Fosstenians will spend a good deal of time planning and strategizing.

They also tend to be relatively more prepared for conflict and put special emphasis on physical strength or martial skill. Sparring is not an unusual means of resolving disputes and there is a great deal of societal expectation of achieving some mastery of combat. While specialists outside of martial combat are necessary, they are generally lower on the societal hierarchy.

Native Fosstenians put far less stock in ancestry and more so in the present, though the refugees have been harder pressed to let go. The dominant ethnic group among Fosstenians hail from Fjell Stjaralda followed by Atisderes.

Ohe Nuii

“If we arrived here by any other means, we might have just presumed the planet to be a near lifeless desert. But, beneath the relentless sun and thick crust, oh, the bounty that awaits us! If only we did not have to battle such a relentless unseen threat…”

Approaching Ohe Nuii from space would likely be a massive undertaking. The binary star system the planet resides in ensures that night never comes, the suns themselves are extremely active and bombard the planet’s surface with electromagnetic radiation (which would toast most electronics) as well as a strange as of yet unidentified radiation that can nullify most forms of magic. On top of all of that, the upper atmosphere is unusually dense which makes entering or exiting the atmosphere very difficult.

Luckily for the Jal’jin, their portal did not open on the surface. It opened beneath.

Ohe Nuii might be a desert over its entire surface, beneath its crust lies an extensive network of water filled caves and tunnels that create a near spiderweb of sanctuary lit by crystals filtering light in from the surface which, thankfully, lacks its nullifying qualities. The soil is extremely rich, there is extensive biodiversity and animals that are of little threat, and, as long as you can navigate the labyrinth of tunnels, allows you to travel great distances without ever risking the surface.

It’s not all roses, however. For one, not all of the planet’s desired resources and fauna are in the same sections and not all sections are connected to one another. That means that, in order to get to some locations, you have to brave the surface and travel by foot. Not only is the journey treacherous, but the suns don’t just strip electronics of power. Anything made of or powered by magic are immediately drained of energy and spells exposed to the light instantly fail.

Meanwhile, below the crust, there is a more insidious risk. When one strays from specially treated towns and outposts, you run the risk of getting very sick. The waters don’t just carry a vast diversity of fauna but also pathogens. Fungi, bacteria, viruses, all are quite common. Some of the Jal’jin’s best healers and doctors are on Ohe Nuii for no other reason that they are very much a necessity. Magic resistant viruses and bacteria are also present on the planet which can sometimes lead to very dangerous outbreaks.

The Sundering was a massive blow to the planet’s inhabitants. Cut off from the rest of the empire, access to replacement beasts of burden, raw materials, complex medicines, and more were all cut off. Instead of struggling against dangerous creatures, these Jal’jin found themselves struggling against disease and entropy.

By the time they reconnected with other Dark Water outposts, most of their equipment was broken or barely functional and, while well fed, the inhabitants were generally exhausted. However, now that they were no longer alone, there was a great deal of hope for this struggling colony.

Cultural Quirks

Given the risk of infection of many kinds, physical contact is an even more closely guarded privilege than the standard Jal’jin. Jal’jin from outside of Ohe Nuii might accept a high five or hand-shake as long as it was brief, but those who have grown accustomed to life on Ohe Nuii are more likely to just stare.

What’s more, personal hygiene and care, both physical and psychological, are held to an even higher standard than one’s ability to defend themself. After all, as they would reason, not even the mightiest warrior can strike a blade against a threat they cannot even perceive. Incidentally, as one’s skill in magic is more often than not directly related to how well they can assist in treating the most severe of illnesses, martial ability has quickly grown to be more of a hobbyist endeavor in their eyes. Still useful, but not as much as a skilled magi. Among their ethnic groups, the Alooio are dominantly found with the Fjell closely behind.

Sticlăhaba

“It was once said that coming here was a fool’s errand. Once the crystals were found, however, they pushed to send more fools. Then they fled here. Perhaps we are all fools. Pushing to survive somewhere the cold can rip skin from flesh. But we are doing it. We are building something here from these frozen wastes. One pod. One people.”

Sticlăhaba is rich in oxygen, is an oceanic planet of mainly fresh water with some local fauna and some natural resources. So why wasn’t this established as a primary outpost? Put simply, it’s cold. Extremely cold. The entire planet is a frozen ice ball with low temperatures that only get lower when the sun goes down. Without protection, you would likely die of exposure in minutes should you ever fall into the water. So why would any Jal’jin find value in the planet?

Put simply, it had a resource that couldn’t be ignored. At the sea floor, there were crystals and geodes of all kinds. There was no shortage of them and even the worst quality foci that could be mined on the planet were better than what could be found elsewhere. In the end, the planet became essential to the growth of the species as the crystals from the planet proved to be some of the best means of storing magical energy for later use (like batteries).

But how to get people to work there? There was pushback against opening yet another prison planet. One was sufficient. Instead, the Vời Uiviện settled on another option: monetary incentive. If you worked in the harsh conditions of the planet, you would receive great rewards. The longer you stayed, the greater the boon.

This was especially popular among the less fortunate of the Jal’jin who saw this as not just a means out of poverty but a way of pulling loved ones out of poverty. Of course, it was never so simple. Even with the help of magic, it was not uncommon for some people to never return from a mining expedition. It was rough work.

When the Sundering happened, this was one of the last places refugees wanted to run to. But many had little choice. It was that or death. Realizing that spreading resources too thin would spell their doom, the survivors spent a year scavenging old mining sites and joining the many mining platforms into one flotilla. For every life lost, their chances of survival grew.

Sticlăhaba was the first outpost to successfully reconnect with another outpost in large part to their limitless supply of foci. Once it was proven it could be done, there was no question: they would reconnect to their kin. All of them.

Cultural Quirks

Unlike other Jal’jin, Sticlas are far more open to physical contact and affection. This is in large part to physical contact being an important means of sharing body heat. Unlike the other outposts, there are not multiple pods found in Sticlăhaba. Instead, the entire outpost views themselves as a single pod. One big family. Thanks to the struggles they’ve faced and the great importance of communal assistance, they are among the most enthusiastic to assist other Jal’jin and reconnect with their lost past. The population is mainly made up of ethnic Atisderes with the Alooio being the second most dominant group.

Credits, Notes, and permissions

This was all/mostly dreamed up by @McSpazz and built up over several months of writing. If you have any ideas of other things to add to the species or even create your own Jal'jin, please let me know! I made this as detailed as I could to try and allow other people to play with the concept as well. If you have ideas on how to better format this page, please, feel free to have at it (so long as you aren't removing information. If you want to add a substantial new aspect to the Jal'jin lore, you are welcome to! Just know that I might not consider it entirely "cannon" unless you run it by me first.