The Xoran people are a race of powerful lizard-like humanoids. Their heavy musculature makes them well suited to physical pursuits even as their developed intelligence makes them adept in more delicate means. Racial diversity among the Xoran is quite pronounced, and they can be found in any number of colors, sizes, and tail-lengths.
Base statistics for this race's starting Statpack:
Strength: 14 Dexterity: 9 Constitution: 14 Intelligence: 13
Starting Statpack: Stable
The Origins of the Xorani
As told by Silse:
It was the time of the great unknowing, and early even in this long, dark period. Mortals were still uncertain how best to maintain their flesh, and understand the world, which was still in the process of being built. Yet some things are older and more powerful than understanding, and one of these is the bond between parent and child.
There was once such a pair, a mother and her babe, that were alone and without nourishment. They were journeying across the mountains of fire, and were the most pitiful of mortals. Their throats were dry, their lips cracked, and never did the child cease her wailing. The father had long since perished, and soon the mother too would pass away. Yet she could not stop walking and searching for a safe haven in which to leave her young. Though she could hardly stand erect from the dizziness of thirst and hunger, she pressed forward, towards the blackened slopes, for they comforted her to look upon for reasons she did not comprehend.
Soon, her vision grew dulled and distorted, until she believed she saw a river of red, yellow, and orange. She cried out for joy, to think that she and her infant might drink again, and live some hours longer. Though she felt heat upon her face as she approached, she stumbled towards the stream, yearning for an end to her thirst.
Her skin, and the skin of her child, began to burn and blister, yet still she leaned forward, hoping to partake of the fiery river upon the sooty slopes of that mountain. Before she could touch the magma, however, the light of the dawning sun caught her eye. She turned her head, and as the first rays of sunlight fell upon her face, her thirst fell away like shackles from a wrist. Her skin hardened, and she did not feel the heat of the mountain. The Voice of the Divine spoke to her, enveloping her in a nourishing, gentle warmth.
"You would drink of Fire to quench your thirst, and I am pleased with your wisdom. Flame shall henceforth be the blossom of your lips, and you shall be the mother of the Zoran. Live upon the sands, and know that you are loved."
She had come to the mountain of fire with thirst and desperation, and left it not yet knowing either pride or ambition. Yet from this woman of singular determination, who practiced wisdom even when she knew not what she did, do all Xorani today descend.