If one were to journey past the South Sea that bands between the lands of Macedonia and Getae, one would come across the remote island of Ithaca, lost amidst the Sea of Claws.
Many scholars which have studied ancient Sithi history say that Ithaca is where the ancestors of the Dwarrow, the Niskies, came from. Others say that it is the ancestral home of the Sithi themselves - and yet others say that Ithaca was once part of a much larger continent that was somehow broken apart. All four of these theories make little sense when taken individually. And if take together raise many questions about the origins of the Sithi and the Niskie - and what their purpose is in cultivating the younger races.
Ithaca is called ‘Ithaca-under Shadow’ with good reason. Sithi whisper between themselves of the Doom that came to their homeland - and Ithaca at least superficially fits just that description - Doomed. Even from a distance of many hundreds of miles one can see the air above Ithaca is thick with heavy, black, rolling storm clouds, thick as crude oil. Light from the sun above seems never to touch the lands of Ithaca, though thin spears of sunlight penetrate the clouds so rarely one could count them on one hand. The seas about the island deserve their name too - for the Sea of Claws boils and bristles and if acid that has been left on an open fire. A smell of sulphur fills the air, and even appears to be poisonous itself. The hulls of ships that are not treated rot and wither like a dry husk. And yet within even these deadly waters yet more deadly sea-life are found - found here but nowhere else in the world. Jellyfish that appear to burn with some kind of inner fire, flying fish that bear an electrical charge and sizzle bright blue in the air, birds as black as tar that can subtly blur their image so that when fired upon arrows and bolt simply sail past - even if fired by a skilled marksman.
Should one actually manage to pass these strange and rather weird dangers, the lands of Ithaca can be just as vicious. The shores are broken rubble and sands - though both are pitch black. One would also notice the lack of light, for once on the land s of Ithaca one would be in a land of perpetual night. What one wouldn’t notice (until too late!) is the blur in the air - unit uneasiness that rests across the shoulders, the tension in one’s friends. For the lands of Ithaca appear to affect the mind as well as looking odd - those few sailors that have managed to get to the shores of Ithaca and back to civilisation speak of it only in quiet whispers.
What one might also notice is the lack of birdsong or other sound normally associated with wildlife. One might also notice the vegetation - growing normally, and looking, for all appearances, like any other vegetation anywhere else in the world. Indeed, even smells of the vegetation appear preserved despite the lack of light - right up to the point one reaches out and touches them. At this point the plant crumbles to ash, blowing away on the wind like sand in Dacia.
There are a few places on Ithaca where the ground is cracked, and rumbles can be felt beneath, like the stirring of some ancient beast. Fires from under the rock can burst through and scorch the air. Perhaps most terrible of all is the light - for where most races would seek salvation in the light amidst the darkness of Ithaca-under-Shadow, here the light can be, perhaps, more dangerous than the darkness. For here, where the light reaches the ground it scours - for as the light passes through the cloud cover it focuses the light like a magnifying glass, burning hot. Where it touches the ash-like vegetation on the island they almost instantly combust.
It is not entirely unreasonable, therefore, to see why many scholars and sailors refer to Ithaca as ‘Tartarus itself’’.
There is one race that is able to live here, however. Kobold are like their homeland - burnt, scoured, black and ashen. Quite how they manage to survive here is astounding and comparatively unknown. It is assumed, that coming from highly adaptable ancestors, the Kobold can live off of the hot springs and acid pools dotted about the island, and feed on the local fish - some scholar jokingly say that they live off the rock themselves.
Villages of Kobold, whilst unusual, are not entirely unknown. Small groups of Kobold - not usually designated by immediate family but by the security of common thought or skill at arms - are known to share burrows (‘warrens’ as a few scholars are like to call them) and caverns found within the central mountainous-like rock hills of the island. Some small communities can thus exist almost by accident, and groups of Kobold come together to share resources - it is also thus, not entirely uncommon for Kobold to dabble in trade and barter.
There is not absolute formal social structure to the Kobold - and this seems strange, even to the other Dark races. Ogres have a hierarchy amongst their Tribes - the biggest, meanest Ogre rules, with their Iron-Bodied seen as a kind of tribal Shaman. Ogres take what they get, keep what they can. Goblins are ruled by the sneakiest of their kind - those that steal power from those above. Their deceptions are their greatest traits. Norns have a highly developed social structure - with the nobles belonging to Houses and ruled by the Queen. In each case, where there is grievance with another, a structure exists to deal with such social disputes. Not so with the Kobold. Whilst they have their Elders to guide them, Kobold find too tight a social structure to be demeaning. Alliances, allies, friends and relations for the Kobold change on a day-to-day basis, making politics all but non-existent. Combat between and within individuals, groups and families are to be encouraged by the Kobold, believing that the weak must die and the strong must survive.
Unlike their Hob and Dwarrow cousins, the Kobold have something fast approaching religion. No god or gods are per se represented, but the vast rituals of communicable Elders are dedicated to the bonds of life that are felt by all Kobold. If the Hob are bound intimately to life and the living earth, Kobold are bound to shadows, to light and to fire. When a Kobold dies, the light deep within the skin flickers out - but it is not unusual for Elder Kobold to absorb this fire. It is by this way that many Kobold share common ‘feelings’ and might also explain why many Kobold do not stay with family, but feel more comfortable with friends. The sacrifice of a Kobold is also know during times of battle - where a Kobold can focus the burning heat in their heart to give themselves up to strengthen the will of other Kobold about them.
