The Mari

Composed exclusively of parasitic lifeforms, the Mari are beings that are alien by our normal standard. They appeared just as the Cataclysm ended, likely worming their ways into our world through the cracks in reality formed by the rampage of the Forgotten Chorus.

All have some abilities unique to them, such as the ability to steal memories or to hear an omniscient voice. They also lack the souls that define the other races, with their substitute being best described as some sort of spiritual fracture or portal

Carno Rancar - Carno's Compendium Cultural

The Mari are a race of creatures created through the influence of the Outside. All of them require other races to propagate their species, and as a result, have come to be feared by most people. Most Mari now live in the nation of Mourne, created by the Mari to act as a safe haven for their kind.

Creatures of the Mari category are all somewhat new, having emerged as a distinct class of beings as the Cataclysm ended. They're aberrant creatures, typically believed to have been spawned by the power of the Outside as the world nearly ended. It's unsure if they existed in their current forms wherever they came from, or if they took on new natures to adapt to Baltia as they entered.

Mari are defined by the need to use other races to procreate. In most cases, this is fairly harmless if distinctly unsettling. Others, like the Illmari and Velmari, must kill the host unfortunate enough to act as the next generation.

As a result, other races often view them with a degree of disgust and mistrust, though not enough so to avoid the profit of selling the mari slaves through most of the last 1500 years. The mari, for their part, take pains to avoid antagonizing the other races, trying to balance the need to maintain their populations against the morality of their neighbors.

All mari have some degree of psionic power, each distinct race having a specialty of some kind. These abilities can make them extremely useful to the right parties, and for those that decide to venture to places with a greater number of non-mari races, utilizing these abilities often becomes a way for them to gain allies.

Some train their abilities further, granting themselves greater psionic powers. Telekinetic and Telepathic abilities are common among the mari, which only furthers their utility to allies who are willing to see past their parasitic birth.

Binmari are a unique and poorly understood form of Mari. They are often erratic and eccentric, and perhaps most unsettlingly, they each claim to hear an entity they refer to as The Voice. This being gives them unique insights into the world around them, but comes at a price.

Binmari can take a wide variety of forms and shapes due to the particulars of their reproductive cycle. Each one is a fungus which grows around the skeleton of a deceased creature, and so the resulting binmari will have a form similar to that creature. For example, a binmari that has grown around the skeleton of a horse will be large and quadrupedal, while one that has grown on the bones of a Halfling will be smaller and bipedal.

Other than their underlying skeletons, each binmari is biologically identical. They lack organs of any kind, all their flesh being of a single consistent type down to the bone. This flesh appears as a mass of purple, spongey strands with an uncomfortable shine to it. Binmari have been described with such comparisons as “walking piles of wet spaghetti” and “with skin like a rubber-band ball” by those who have seen them.

This flesh will be uniform along the outside of their bodies as well. Their faces will be flat and devoid of unique features, though their flesh will conform to the general structure of their skull. Binmari flesh in a particular area seems to be able to “interpret” what that area was used for, and fulfills a similar role. For example, flesh located over the eye sockets of a skull will allow the binmari to see, and the flesh over the Ethmoid will be able to interpret smells. Binmari flesh located by the jaw or mandibles of a creature can vibrate to allow the binmari to communicate verbally.

Binmari lack stomachs, with all digestion occurring in the mouth. When they have an item of food, they press it against the flesh over their mouths, which separates just enough to allow it to pass through. The inside of a binmari's mouth is filled with a gaseous acid that quickly dissolves the food item into a liquid the binmari can utilize, but contact with air renders this acid inert.

Binmari are considered strange, even by those most sympathetic to them. They often have odd manners of speaking, perhaps communicating in a disjointed fashion or using non-sequiturs frequently. Those unfamiliar with binmari will often find simple conversation to be frustrating.

Binmari also tend to determine their profession seemingly on a whim. It is not unheard of for a binmari to just hear the name of a profession before committing themselves to it, before they even learn a single detail about it. To their credit, all binmari follow through on this decision, and they're well-known for quickly learning their profession of choice.

One of the most important aspects of the binmari is their connection to an entity they refer to as The Voice. The Voice is an entity of unknowns, seeming to be nothing more than a disembodied voice that communicates with every binmari at some point. Some binmari go their entire lives hearing it only a single time, while others claim to hear it several times a day.

Binmari have the ability to ask The Voice for guidance, and they will receive honest (if sometimes vague) advice. Some binmari claim not to even need to ask The Voice for guidance to receive it, simply receiving answers to questions it did not think to ask.

However, this connection works both ways. The Voice has the ability to issue a command to any binmari, which it has no choice but to obey. This command can be anything, and has ranged in complexity from sleeping at a certain time on a certain day to leading armies. Regardless of how the binmari feels about the command or how contrary the command may run to the binmari’s goals or nature, it has no choice but to obey.

The Voice is often the topic that most divides the binmari. Some view it as the patron deity of the binmari and worship it as such. Others claim it is an entity that has force itself into their minds and uses the binmari for its own ends. Some are neutral on the topic, considering the voice to be some manner of subconscious hive-mind.

Binmari are constantly emitting short-lived spores. These spores are generally harmless, only becoming active once it lands on the skeleton of a creature. From there, the spore will grow. It will initially gather nutrients from the air, but it will attempt to grow in a way to facilitate greater movement so it may better hunt for food and grow more quickly.

Binmari in this stage of their lives are of animal-level intelligence, generally only interested in hunting for food. Due to this, binmari are often expressly restricted from locations where exposed bone may be. Should their spores find their way into a graveyard and onto the bone of a creature, the binmari's child runs the risk of killing townspeople in its pursuit of food.

Sometime after the binmari grows to fully cover the skeleton, it will hear The Voice for the first time. All binmari claim to have the same experience, with The Voice simply commanding them to awaken. At this point, the binmari finds itself fully cognizant and intelligent.

Binmari rarely form societies of their own kind. They find it extremely difficult to perform a role outside one related to their fixations, and due to the almost random nature of their fixations, it would be exceedingly difficult for a society to function. Any society of binmari would require a lot of luck in the fixations of its residents, else it would find vital roles unfulfilled.

They are excellent additions to societies of other races, however. While other races find their appearance and mannerisms unsettling, they perform very well in their specific roles, and they can often become invaluable members of a community quite quickly. They often prefer to join communities of other Mari, as they are less likely to face discrimination in such societies.

Binmari do not age, but they never live to be over 120 years old. Whenever a binmari approaches that age, something inevitably happens that ends their lives, with possible causes varying wildly. In some instances, The Voice simply orders the elder binmari to end its own life. In others, events seemingly unrelated to the binmari themselves may be the cause.

Binmari nearing the age of 120 have found their lives ended by any possible cause. Some have died to natural disasters, or been killed in crimes of passion by members of other races, or been the sufferer of a terminal disease. It is almost as if the world itself conspires not to let any binmari age to this extent, but these events have no tangible connection and no reason is known.

Denmari are unique among the Mari in that their nature is less one of a parasite, and more one of a symbiote. Their relationship with their host is a permanent one - whether the relationship is for better or worse.

Denmari consume an organ or limb on their host creature, replacing it entirely with their own body as they do. This new limb or organ is exactly as functional as the previous one, but is distinctly alien in appearance and has a mind of its own.

The process is extremely painful, and it is one that cannot easily be reversed. During the process, the Denmari grows hair-like tendrils that extend throughout the body of the host which allow it to both ensure its own survival and better influence its host. These tendrils target important points of the body, and should the Denmari die before the host, their thrashing and decay will lead to the death of their host in all but the most unique of cases.

The final product of a Denmari's growth can vary wildly. A replaced eye may become grey with three red pupils, or a softly glowing orange. An arm may become a hard, jagged claw or a mass of bulbous flesh. Without exception though, the transformation results in something distinctly different from the original limb or organ.

With its own survival ensured, the Denmari and its host must then come to terms with one another. Their mutual survival depends upon them finding a way to work together, though this fact does not always ensure a smooth transition.

Should a Denmari's host actively oppose it, such as by acting against its interests, the Denmari will begin taking steps to subvert the will of its host. The Denmari can control its own body perfectly, overriding any control its host may have, and this can prove useful for it. A Denmari that has replaced an arm can begin aggravating its host by simply going limp or taking greater aggressive actions, and a Denmari that replaces the eye can stop functioning or even move wildly to nauseate its host.

However, should the two creatures find a way to work together that satisfies both, the host will find itself stronger for it. The Denmari has a few useful abilities that allow it to aid its host, such as Telepathy and an ability to detect the presence of nearby creatures.

A Denmari begins its life as a small, grey insect with a stinger. This insect will seek out a host, attempting to find a creature of intelligence, and once it has identified such a creature, it will then dive at them with its stinger. The insect dies instantly, while the stinger burrows deeper into the creature. Once the stinger meets resistance to its burrowing, such as hitting empty space or bone, it will then begin to consume surrounding flesh.

Once a Denmari reaches maturity, a sac begins to form inside it that will house a number of these insects. As long as the Denmari lives, they will remain in a state of suspended animation. However, once the Denmari dies, these insects awaken. They begin to eat their way out of the deceased Denmari, and once they reach the open air, they will take flight and seek a target to sting.

Urmari single-mindedly pursue their own evolution and the improvement of their colonies, with all other actions and decisions being in the pursuit of those goals. They are perhaps the most accepted of the Mari, as while their alien nature can be startling, most interactions with them tend to be peaceful exchanges of tools and ideas.

Urmari vary quite a bit in appearance and ability as a result of their unique biology and maturation. Each adult Urmari is the result of a fusion of two Urmari juveniles, each of which had attached to a creature and copied traits unique to it. Once the juvenile is sufficiently grown, it seeks out its opposing type of juvenile, and fuses with it to form an adolescent.

As this adolescent matures, it will manifest the traits it has within it, keeping the ones that most allow it to contribute to the colony. How it decides this is a mystery, but the end result will be an Urmari who has literally grown into the best role for it within its colony.

All Urmari do have some things in common, however. Most distinctly are their enormous eyes that cover most of their foreheads, as well as their tan skin that rests somewhere between chitin and leather. Modern Urmari are almost exclusively bipedal humanoids as well, as they have noticed that the most successful species in the world seem to share this trait.

All Urmari are born to a colony, and like ants, they are wholly devoted to its survival. Urmari make all decisions in terms of how it may help their colony to survive, even should such decisions result in their own deaths. Those who have worked with Urmari note the species devoted nature - crafters work tirelessly, soldiers fight to the death, and leaders are incorruptible.

Urmari adapt the personality best suited for their roles. Those that have limited interaction with other races tend to come off as bland and robotic, as personalities are generally irrelevant within the confines of a colony. Those that expand their horizons and deal with other races for whatever reason will quickly learn what behavior is most conducive to their goals.

Urmari outside the colony will eventually adopt a personality that most benefits their role. An Urmari in a small group, for instance, will quickly demonstrate a supportive and loyal personality. In contrast, an Urmari diplomat to an Elven community will inevitably demonstrate grace and etiquette second only to the Elves themselves. Some view the Urmari similarly to Doppelgangers for this, interpreting this adaptation as a facade used for exploitation.

At the head of each Urmari colony are two Queen Urmari, which birth all members of the colony. These Queen Urmari lack the adaptability of the rest of the colony, and so they never evolved the same level of intelligence their children tend to possess. To compensate, the first Urmari born to the Queens will be a special variety known as a Regent. These Regents act as the unquestioned leader of the colony, making all executive decisions. Regent also have the unique ability to create additional Queens, though they only do so when one dies.

Below the Regent is the Leader Caste. These are Urmari with greater management ability and intelligence, and so they are selected to manage the other castes. Below them are the food-maker, warrior, and craftsmen castes who handle all aspects of colony life. All Urmari are placed into their caste based on their abilities as they become adults, and they will remain in each caste for their entire lives.

The two Queen Urmari each create a different type of spawn. The Black Queen, a large centipede-like creature, spawns hair-like juveniles which attach to living creatures and siphon small amounts of their blood. This continues until it grows to roughly the size of a human finger. The White Queen, however, is a large fungal creature, and its spores attach to dead creatures in its vicinity. When these spores grow to fist-sized spheres, they detach.

Each juvenile will then seek out another juvenile of the opposite type, slithering and rolling aimlessly. When a Black juvenile spots a White juvenile, it will latch on and bite a hole into it, turning itself inside out and injecting the fungal sphere with its internals. These react with the fluids contained in the White juvenile, and will begin to grow into a proper Urmari. The Black juvenile becomes the bones and organs of the complete Urmari, while the White juvenile becomes the skin and muscle.

Urmari tend to live to be around 30 years old, and they are a race that knows when their end is near. During the last few months of their lives, their skin will turn from tan to stark white, signaling their approaching end. At this point, the leaders of that Urmari will determine how useful they found that particular individual to be.

If they found that specimen to be especially valuable to the colony, they will submit it to the colony's leadership as recommended breeding stock. If the leadership agrees, that Urmari will be removed from its position and kept in the breeding chamber of the Black Queen. Freshly born juveniles will attach to this chosen Urmari, thereby ensuring that the valuable traits it possesses are passed on in large numbers.

When the Urmari dies after several months of this, it will then be deposited into the White Queen's breeding chamber, where fungal spores will consume it until it ceases to exist. Becoming breeding stock is considered the highest honor an Urmari can receive within its colony.

Urmari pride themselves on their adaptability, and their cultural adaptability is no exception. Part of the reason for their greater degree of acceptance amongst the non-Mari races is due to their ability to blend with other cultures. Mari colonies located near settlements of other creatures are superbly quick to learn from their neighbors, picking up their customs and rituals. While they often lack the understanding of why these customs exist, they are eager to better themselves and their colony, and so they happily check if these customs will do so.

The diplomacy of the Urmari reflects this, and they are quick to find mutually beneficial agreements with other races. The Urmari are able to recognize their flaws, and if these flaws can be covered by another friendly race for a time, they will attempt to negotiate. In particular, a favorite deal of the Urmari is one which allows them to attach their Black juveniles to the citizens of the settlement so they can increase the traits available to their colony.

However, conflict can and has emerged. If an Urmari colony views another settlement as a threat to be removed, it will strike with all available force. They will attack at the time they feel most capable of victory, taking prisoners to use as breeding stock. They will plunder the resources of the town, and drag everything they find valuable back to their colony, including the bodies of the dead.

Urmari adaptation is built into their biology in one additional way. Urmari are able to remove limbs and organs from other creatures and temporarily graft them to their own bodies. For example, an Urmari with access to the body of a giant bird may temporarily use its wings to give itself flight, or it may graft the natural weapons of a creature onto itself for protection.

This process is often very draining to the Urmari, and is often reserved for emergency situations they lack the means to handle presently.

Velmari are creatures obsessed with experience and memories, constantly attempting to gain a greater store of memories to access. They perform this in two main ways - experiencing life, and taking memories from those who have.

Velmari are identifiable by their slimy green skin and their lack of hair. Those without much experience with Velmari often initially mistake them for Mind Flayers due to the similarities in the appearance of these two creatures, though these similarities are only at the very surface.

The defining feature of any Velmari is its tentacles. Each Velmari has some number of tentacles sprouting from their body, though the number and length may vary widely between any two specimens. Newly created Velmari may have a couple tentacles that are only a few feet in length each, while the eldest of Velmari may have tentacles of such number and length that they've lost the ability to move under the raw weight of their own tentacles.

These tentacles store the memories accumulated by a Velmari throughout its life. The older a Velmari lives to be, the more memories it will have accumulated, and the longer the total length of its tentacles will be, with a year of experience translating to about a foot of tentacle length.

There are few Velmari who view social interaction as a pleasant experience, and those who speak with them often tend to find the experience equally unenjoyable. Velmari hate to waste time with with things like social pleasantries or small talk, and many find them to be abrasive and blunt.

Additionally, Velmari are naturally self-assured in regards to their own intelligence, and so they often come off as condescending. This tends to damage their reputation with the other races, who generally dislike being treated as if they were children. An individual who proves his intelligence to a Velmari will find the creature thrilled to treat them as something closer to an equal, as the Velmari find it much more enjoyable to communicate when they do not feel the need to simplify their thoughts for the benefit of other creatures.

It is ironic, then, that Velmari <br>most despise talking to one another. The only <br>thing a Velmari dislikes more than diluting their <br>thoughts and ideas so as to be understood by lesser races, is realizing that they are on the recieving end of such dilution. A Velmari with a greater sum tentacle length will naturally identify itself as the superior of the two conversing Velmari, and will treat its inferior with the same arrogance it would a member of another race.

Despite their disdain for speaking to other races, Velmari are forced to do so by their own innate need to gather memories. A Velmari who isolates itself entirely will experience little of the world and its denizens, and so the memories it accumulates as time goes on will be worthless to it.

Meanwhile, a Velmari who travels the world is more likely to experience things no other Velmari has, either through their own experiences or through its ability to consume the memories of others. The more a Velmari does this, the more powerful it will become, and the more other Velmari will come to respect it - a Velmari with more memories than any other will have the most experience and knowledge to draw upon.

Once a Velmari has experienced enough on its own, it gains the ability to eat memories. It can tear recent memories from the minds of other creatures and take these memories for themselves. This leaves a gap in the recollection of the unfortunate creature, one that is almost always permanent, while allowing the Velmari the knowledge and experience the creature previously enjoyed.

Velmari are careful in the application of this power, as they recognize that most races fear their abilities. Most Velmari, therefore, target creatures with no legal recourse. Bandits and criminals, for instance, make preferred targets - the Velmari may learn something interesting, and few people care if such an individual finds themselves with memory loss.

Another favored tactic of the wealthier Velmari is to offer payment for memories. Individuals with a recent memory the Velmari find worthwhile may be offered a nice sum of money for them. The specifics of such deals vary, but Velmari are normally careful to honor agreements they make, lest they garner a bad reputation that keep others from selling valuable memories.

The Velmari reproduction process is the only one that requires the death of a humanoid creature in the process, and it does so quite painfully. When a Velmari dies, each tentacle attached to them transforms, growing a large mouth with razor-sharp teeth. These tentacles detach, slithering in search of a host to transform into a new Velmari.

When it finds a suitable creature, the tentacle will attempt to sneak behind them before it strikes. It will attempt to bite the creature near the base of its spine, then burrow into the creature and slowly attempt to envelop the spine. It will carve through flesh and bone, slithering up the spine over the course of a full day, killing the host in the process.

Once the tentacle's mouth has reached the skull of the creature, it will begin to fuse with its spine and repair the damage it left previously. At this time, it will begin to force the creature to undergo the changes that identify it as a Velmari, and it will grow its first tentacles as the memories of the original creature are consumed by its new form.

Velmari believe that a memory is inherently more valuable than the information it contains, and that the experience itself is greater than the sum of its parts. For this reason, simply being told the information a memory contains has inherently less value to them compared to having the memory itself.

However, they do recognize the value of information sharing, both giving and receiving. Should a Velmari have a memory with particularly juicy information, it will happily share that information with its allies if appropriate. For these reasons, Velmari are especially useful for purposes of interrogation and information gathering, and they are happy to take these roles to potentially gain new and exciting memories.

Velmari tend to be physically frail, and most are averse to putting themselves in physical danger. For this reason, they tend to prefer to work with large organizations such as law enforcement, as these groups tend to have the numbers and infrastructure to ensure the safety of their Velmari employees.

Some Velmari actively pursue more dangerous work, too tempted by the idea of uncovering unique and worthwhile memories, but they almost never do so on their own. Should a Velmari be found in a place of distinct danger, it would be a safe bet to assume it has physically capable allies very close at hand.