Singular: Sorann  Plural: Sorannen

Description

The Sorannen are lithoid lifeforms, eldritch abominations of living crystal and rock. They are tall, usually standing at heights of 7-8 feet. Their bodies are vaguely humanoid in structure with two arms and legs, though the proportions are twisted to a degree that they resemble anything but a human. Their thin, insect-like arms are freakishly long, their fingers beset with jagged claws of obsidian, sharper than any scalpel while their stilt-like legs end in pointy stumps that fuse with the ground upon contact.

Their skin consists of small, ever-shifting stones, crystals and metals that never stay put for longer than a few seconds, travelling on paths predetermined by magnetic forces emanating from their molten core. These form mesmerizing patterns that seem to reflect their thoughts, in addition to also levitating small particles of precious metals that surround their bodies in shapes reminiscent of a halo, giving them an angelic appearance, twisted as it may be. Beneath their shifting skin, their body is largely solid with only larger, movable pieces that allow for mobility. Their head is the only part of their body which remains in place at all times: A geode, stuck on a neck of solid rock, at the center of which there is a glowing crystal that serves as both brain and sensory organ.

Their kind are incredibly long-lived. Whereas others count their life in years or decades, a Sorann counts theirs in millennia, as their souls are as enduring as the rocks they're encased in. Though they are strong beyond compare and highly resistant to physical damage, their forms able to shrug off the sharpest blades and the fastest arrows with ease, their lithoid bodies do not allow for fast movements, appearing to move almost as if they were permanently stuck in slow motion. Any person could run circles around them in the time it takes for them to take a single step. They instead rely on their extreme arcane prowess to surmount their shortcomings.

The Sorannen are psions, and thus capable of telepathic communication. Though they are very much capable of sharing their thoughts with other species, they consider this to be a privilige reserved entirely for their own kind. Only when they wish to torture their victims do they use their telepathy, usually tormenting them with high-pitched screams and terrible voices until they go mad. Thus, they commune with their servants by producing the desired sounds by grinding parts of their body against each other in such a way that the sounds resemble spoken words, though the result is usually garbled and difficult to understand.

Reproduction

Theirs is a species of necrophages and parasites, incapable of sexual reproduction. Instead, they rely on other sapient races to create their offspring by infecting them with crystalline spores which will then slowly grow and infest their bodies in a slow process that can take years, even decades. In the end, the being that once was is erased entirely, replaced with a new Sorann.

The crystalline spores used for reproduction have been adapted for many uses besides the creation of more of their kind long before they even left their homeworld. They are the basis of most of their technology, the material with which they construct their wonders. With them, they grow their massive star-cities, living structures capable of travelling the stars themselves, growing them into shape using both their arcane powers as well as conventional engineering.
They are also widely used to secure their supremacy over their slaves. By implanting spores in the brains of their victims and stopping their growth once sufficiently matured, they use them as a junction point between the organic brain and the Sorannen Hivemind, allowing the lithoid masters to tap into their thoughts, to influence their desires, and to even assume direct control of their bodies even over large distances.

The process of creating a new Sorann is costly however, consuming excessive amounts of time and resources. Therefore their populations are slow to grow, as a new batch of Sorann is spawned only once every other decade. Though their star-cities have travelled the void between dimensions for untold billions of years, their numbers long since having grown beyond counting, there is no shortage of space in an infinite universe, and thus they are scattered across reality and beyond. Only a tiny fraction of their civilization crashed on the Crucible World during the Starfall, and even less survived the impact. Thus, only a few hundred of their kind inhabit this land.

Origins

The Arcane arts are an integral part of their society, the foundation upon which their civilization is built. Every Sorann is expected to have absolute mastery of all forms of magic just a few years after their spawning, lest they be culled from the population so that their weakness does not perpetuate itself. Thus, every one of their kind is a master of the Arcane, their powers unrivaled amongst the stars. Through their sorcery they force their will onto lesser beings, raise the dead to serve their ambitions and create artifacts of supreme power. Over the course of millions of years, they have advanced their sorcery to such a degree that their combined might has allowed them to open rifts between dimensions, to build cities capable of travelling the stars themselves.

The Sorannen are interplanar travellers, using their mastery of the arcane to travel the void between realms in massive, living cities of crystal that resemble the very stars they navigate. Untold millios of these ships stalk the dimensions, scattered across the infinite space in search of new hunting grounds. To fuel their civilization, they often pillage the worlds of other races. They extract slaves, tribute and useful technologies to build ever greater monuments to their glory, but also keep potential competition in check by blasting them back to the stone age. They believe that the 'lesser races' are unworthy of wielding even the most rudimentary technology, and thus it is a rare sight for a slave to wield metal tools.

Though nominally they are united under a single banner, swearing fealty to the eighty-one Tyrants of the nine thrones of the nine heavens, conflict amongst their kind is no rare occurence. Cities compete for the right to harvest promising worlds, wage war to secure the best hunting grounds. Though the destruction of an entire city in battle is rare, it is quite common for one to be badly mauled and forced to temporarily seek refuge on a stellar body in order to recover their strength. One such battle ended viciously, with the city of Koros critically damaged and forced to crash land on the Crucible World in an event to its other inhabitants as the "Starfall".


Sorannen Civilization is deeply totalitarian in nature. It is a society where a cabal of Archons rules with absolute power, be it judicial, legislative or executive. Their rule is maintained through an outer circle of enforcers, agents and administrators, of which every Sorann is a part of. They control the flow of information, spin narratives, spread propaganda and root out dissident. This system does not serve to oppress their own population however, but to enforce their rule over the non-Sorannen slave population which makes up the vast majority of their denizens. In fact, there are so few Sorannen compared to slaves that barely anyone knows what they look like, as they are rarely seen outside of their crystal palaces. For every Sorann, there are a hundred thousand slaves doing their bidding.

The Sorannen worship an entity named Ughral, symbolized as a red sun with an eye at its center. It is not a god in the tradititional sense, but more of a psionic entity borne of the telepathic nature of their race, a nascent proto-hivemind that unites their kind, allowing them to act with great cohesion and focus, to guess at each other's intentions and thoughts with accuracy impossible for other beings. However, this has also collectively stunted their emotional development, and thus they are incapable of feeling things that others would take for granted. They do not know hate, greed or fear, but neither do they feel affection or empathy. Only dull versions of what might could be remain, in addition to their innate instinct of self-preservation.

Culture

They are as militaristic as they are autocratic, preferring to enforce their demands through the despolation of their foes at opportune moments, notoriously preying on the weak. Though their arcane prowess and natural durability makes them extremely potent warriors of devastating potential, the Sorann themselves are an extremely rare sight on the field of battle, if at all. Instead they compel their slaves to die for them, forcing them to attack in charge after charge in suicidal wave attacks until the enemy is overcome. And, though they are certainly capable strategists when the situation calls for it, the fact that they consider their slaves to be disposable tools gives them little incentive to pursue more cost intensive tactics.
Whereas for others war is a last resort, for them it is the first answer for any immediate problem. They will only engage in diplomacy when they decide that the costs outweigh the benefits. But even then they remain dangerous, for theirs is a cunning kind, always planning and scheming to obtain that which they set their sights on.

To live beneath the iron fist of Sorann Hegemony is to live a life of perpetual terror, it is to be a living tool to further the ambitions of their lithoid masters. Cities are nothing but a ramshackle collection of tents, huts and holes in the ground for the slaves to live in, while their masters live in crystal palaces towering above them. Walls are built not to deter attackers, but to prevent inhabitants from escaping, guarded by monstrosities grown in their spawning pools. One lives a life of constant hard labour, producing goods and mining resources to fuel their industries, or forced to breed offspring in harsh eugenic programs to increase the labour force. Every word spoken must be carefully considered, lest a foolish sentence may be reported to an overseer by a treacherous informant for something as banal as extra rations. What happens to those accused of wrongthink after they disappear in the night is something few dare to even imagine. Worse fates still await those unfortunate enough to attract the interest of the Sorann, as they are dragged into their palaces to be used for dark rituals and cruel experiments.

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