Ikran Wurked

The edges of Ukan-Agula are ringed by sheer cliff faces that drop into open sky. Any creature or vessel attempting to reach the top surface must first climb these cliffs, and then survive what waits above them. Interestingly, the island experiences violent Updraft winds along its entire rim. What makes this wind dangerous is it is completely unpredictable. There is no rhythm or reason. A wall of chaotic air that gusts without warning and strikes with enough force to flip carriages, can blow randomly at any time. A stretch of cliff edge might sit calm and quiet for hours, tempting a climber into confidence, and then erupt into a violent gale that lasts minutes or days before falling silent again. No pattern and always random regardless of season, and even Audoi clans who live near the edge cannot predict it. 

For most outsiders, the sky itself acts as a natural barrier to the Driftmount and it decides who can enter or leave. 

But to the flying creatures native to the Driftmount, this Updraft is not an obstacle. It is their haven. 

Several winged creatures learned to thrive in the chaos of Updraft. The most formidable of these edge dwelling creatures is Ikran Wurked (in Audoi), or known as the Great Eagles in common languages. They are the largest bird on the island, and a full-grown Great Eagle stands roughly the height of a carriage and its wingspan reaches the size of a house. Their body is densely muscled, built more for diving than chasing prey through open air. Their skin and feathers lie thick and tight against their bodies, adapted to resist the chilly windy environment of Driftmount and chaotic Updraft. 

In calm air, Great Eagles are not graceful flyers. Their sheer mass works against them and long flight demands enormous effort in such conditions. Therefore they rarely hunt over the interior plains, and are mostly seen around the cliff edges or central mountain peaks. 

Great Eagles have adapted over countless generations to ride the chaotic Updraft wind currents along the island's edge and make it one of their weapons. Many other creatures have great difficulty flying through the Updraft, and are thrown helplessly. Great Eagles feel the Updraft surges instinctively, folding and spreading their massive wings to catch chaotic violent gusts and convert raw turbulence into speed and altitude. A Great Eagle riding an Updraft can launch itself vertically with almost no effort, hang motionless in winds, or drop into a killing dive with the full force of gravity and gale behind it. The same winds that serve as the island's natural barrier serve as the Great Eagle's hunting ground. 

Their preferred method of attack is simple and nearly impossible to counter. They ride the Updraft high above the cliff edge, circling patiently on the turbulent columns of air, and wait. When prey appears below, whether a wild animal or an unlucky flyer, the eagle folds its wings and drops. The dive is fast, steep, and guided by subtle adjustments of wing and tail that allow the bird to track a moving target with terrifying precision. The strike itself carries the weight of the eagle's full body behind talons strong enough to punch through wooden planking. Victims rarely see it coming. Those who do rarely have time to react. 

Great Eagles nest in the deep crevices and overhangs along the cliff faces, where the Updraft keeps most predators and intruders at bay. Mated pairs of Great Eagles claim a section of cliff edge as their nesting territory and defend it aggressively against anything that enters, and their greatest competition comes from other Great Eagles. Territorial disputes between them are dramatic to watch. They will fly high in the Updraft, clashing talons, screaming, and battering each other with their wings in what looks like a fight to the death. Yet, these confrontations are almost entirely ritualistic in nature. The loser yields and retreats and rarely gets killed. The violence is real enough to establish dominance in the air, but restrained enough to preserve the loser's life. 

For the Audoi, the Great Eagles are greatly respected and some clans revere these creatures as Sky-Lords. Yrkul who patrol the cliff regions learn early to be constantly wary of the sky as a Great Eagle does not distinguish its prey, whether it be Audoi or goat. All are prey to them. If they observe the silhouette of a Great Eagle, they try to avoid being an easily distinguishable target. A Great Eagle in its element, riding the Updraft along the cliff face, is not something even an experienced Ranger wants to fight. 

Outsiders, however, rarely know any of this. They arrive at the cliff edge already exhausted from the climb, their beasts struggling in the thin air, their carriages groaning under their weight. They focus entirely on surviving the Updraft and never think to look up. The Great Eagles are patient hunters, and they have learned over generations that the things that come crawling up the cliff side are slow, loud, and easy to kill.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

John (Yes, I am very uncreative to think of original name) paced along the cliff overlooking an ocean, his boots scraping against its grey rocks. His eyes swept the horizon countless times that day, searching for something he had never seen before. Only heard about. Rumors. 

It had started a little over a year ago in a port pub, when an old drunk sailor had slurred the words over a bottle of rum: "A wandering island... passes through every eight years... floats right across the sky like a second moon." John had drowned the man that night, but he kept the story. Initially, he discarded it as a fantasy dream of the drunk, but it implanted something in his mind. Over the weeks and months later, the story resurfaced back in his mind periodically, each time it felt less like a drunkard's fantasy and more like a way out.

n truth, he needed a way out more than ever. The governments of surrounding nations had prices on his head, each one higher than the last. His crew, the Flayed Banner, numbering over a hundred strong, had once terrorized the regional ocean and its trading routes with impunity. But the military patrols had increased their numbers in recent years. Furthermore, many merchants had started convoys with armed security in these waters. His recent raids had ended in retreat, and the last one had cost him twelve men and a small supporting ship. The noose was tightening, and John could feel it against his throat.  

So he turned his mind upward. The wandering island that briefly passes over the regions and vanishes beyond the horizon. No government had jurisdiction there. No navy could reach it. He spent the past year gathering information, bribing merchants, interrogating travelers, piecing together fragments of rumor into something resembling a plan. Information was scarce. Few people from the surrounding lands had actually set foot on the island, and those who had were mostly wealthy traders with the means to commission sky-barges for the journey. By comparing rumors and old merchant logbooks, he managed to figure out that the island was due to return any day now. 

From the scraps he had assembled, the picture was clear enough. A vast, mostly uninhabited landmass, home to scattered tribes of primitive barbarians. Nothing he couldn't handle. He would go there, crush whatever resistance he found, and build a new empire. A kingdom in the sky, untouchable by anyone below. He laughed at the thought and paced harder. 

He drank too much rum that night. The anticipation was gnawing at him and he drank himself to sleep to feel the peace. And now he lay in his bed covered with blankets, his head having a skull-splitting headache and his mouth feeling like a desert. 

Suddenly a voice split the morning air. 

"The island! Captain, I see it! I SEE IT!"

John was on his feet before his eyes were fully open. He crashed through the tent flap and staggered into the daylight, squinting against the blinding sun. And there it was. A black speck against the sky, no larger than a thumb. Unmistakably real. He had heard whispers behind his back, some of his crew called him an idiot who bet everything on the words of lying merchants and a drunk. He felt the respect was getting lower and lower as time passed. And now it was right there, just as those drunkards said, justifying his so-called madness.  

"There it is," he breathed.

Then louder, turning to face the camp, he shouted: "THERE IT IS!"

The cheer erupted from the crew. People who followed him through blood and bounty stood on crates, climbed riggings of the ship, laughing and hugging each other. John raised his fist to the sky as the crew roared around him and he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. Certainty. A promise of freedom. And a new beginning. 

He gave the order immediately. Prepare for departure.

The week that followed was a frenzy of violence and activity.

They raided three towns in five days, stripping them of everything, grain, tools, livestock, timber, rope, nails, seeds, anything that would be needed for a fledgling settlement. John drove his crew relentlessly, cataloguing every single chest and barrel. This wasn't plunder for profit. This was survival stock. Every sack of flour and bundle of iron meant the difference between a colony and a grave. 

By the end of the week, the island had swelled in the sky. What had been a dark speck was now a visible mass, brown and grey and enormous, hanging in the air like a judgement. John stood watching it from the staging ground where his convoy waited. 

Thirty sky-barges sat in rows across the field. They were ugly, purpose-built things, to bring their crew up to the surface of the island, not for viewing leisure activity. They had loaded everything they had in those sky-barges and harnessed several Keifon to each. The sky-barges and Keifon had each cost him a fortune. These Keifon were magnificent creatures, lizard-like bodies with bat-like faces and wings, their leathery wings glistening in the light. They were some of the few beasts strong enough to sustain long and high flight, and their breeders knew about their speciality. John had to pay large sums of gold, threaten their lives and occasional physical violence, and sometimes outright raided and stole the beasts. A total of a hundred or so beasts had been gathered and it took him most of the year to just acquire them all. 

He climbed into the lead sky-barge and gave the signal. And they rose into the sky.

The first hour of the flight was serene. The land shrank beneath them, the coastline becoming a pale thread, and nearby smoking towns reduced to tiny grey dots. The keifons beat their wings in powerful, rhythmic strokes against the gentle air, and each sky-barge creaked and groaned under its load. 

More time passed and the island didn't seem to grow any closer. John leaned forward, gripping the rail, eyes fixed on that distant mass. It just hung there, immobile, indifferent. He began to wonder if it was real at all. Some trick of the atmosphere, a mirage born of altitude and perhaps aided by an obsession. He had never seen the island before today. Everything he knew about it came from the mouths of strangers. What if they'd all been wrong? Refusing to believe that he made a mistake, he ordered his crew. 

"Push them harder!"

The drivers cracked their whips and keifons screamed in protest, but flapped their wings faster. And slowly, painfully slowly, the island began to grow. This island was enormous. Far larger than what John had expected. It was not a floating island, but a landmass, a jagged continent of earth and stone suspended in the sky. Its underside looked like upside down city roofs of rocks and earth, full of dark crevices. Simply, the scale of the island greatly surprised him. 

As they flew higher and higher, the air began to thin. It came on gradually. A tightness in the chest, a subtle wrongness in each breath, making John feel great uneasiness. His crew members began gasping and coughing. The wingbeats of keifons grew labored, and each stroke took a visible effort. 

Soon, they started climbing the sheer dirt wall of the island's edge. John could see large boulders protruding from the cliff face like fingers poking a sheet. Suddenly, a violent surge of wind hit them from below. The updraft. 

It hit them like a wall. The sky-barge lurched upward so hard that John's teeth clacked together, and for a moment they were rising fast, effortlessly, as if the island itself were pulling them in. But the wind was chaotic, gusting and swirling, changing direction without warning. The barges bucked and spun like leaves in a storm. 

Behind him, someone screamed. John twisted around in time to see one of the rear sky-barges spiral sideways, its beasts tangled in their harness, wings beating uselessly against the gale. It struck the cliff face with a sound like a thunderclap. Wood splintered, metal shrieked and precious supplies scattered into the void. The barge tumbled end over end and fell, shrinking to a dot, then nothing. 

A second barge followed moments later. A gust caught it broadside and flipped it. The keifons broke free and flew away, as the barge and everyone aboard plummeted screaming into the open sky. Then a third. Its harness rig sheared clean off the hull, and the flying beasts lurched forward with ropes hung loosely while the barge dropped like a stone. 

"HOLD!" John roared, but the wind drowned his voice. "HOLD YOUR FLIGHT!"

Finally, they crested the edge of the cliff wall like drowning men breaking the surface of the sea, gasping for air, their limbs sore from gripping the sky-barge rails. Once survivors moved over the rim, the air became relatively calmer. John felt relief and looked over his shoulders and started counting survivors. Twenty-three sky-barges were still flying. They had lost seven in that violent updraft. 

After calming down, John surveyed the island. It spread before him and it was different than what he imagined. Snow. Everywhere was covered in snow. A vast white plain, broken by dark stubble of bushes, welcomed him. A cold wind blew fine ice crystals across the surface and stung his skin. A mountain range rose like black spires in the distance, dominating the view. He was disgruntled at the sight, he had expected green or brown earth, not this frozen field. 

But he was here, and no government can follow him now.   

"Take us further inland," he ordered. "Find shelter before we freeze to death."

The convoy pushed forward over the snowfield, sky-barges flying low, their shadows sliding across the field. John fell into deep thought, recalculating, adjusting his plans for this new environment. This new start was going to be harder than he expected but it didn't scare him. He had built an enterprise from nothing before and he could do it again. 

A shadow fell over him and disrupted his chain of thought. It came fast, a darkness that blotted out the sky above his carriage like a passing cloud. But clouds don't move that fast, and clouds don't have talons. John looked up and saw an eagle. 

It was enormous, its wingspan stretched wider than his carriage length, its body thick with muscles beneath the bronze feathers, and its eyes, yellow and unblinking, were fixed on him with the intensity of an apex predator that had never been challenged before. Suddenly it folded its wings and dove. 

"TURN! TURN NOW!"

John wrenched the reins and changed direction, but the eagle adjusted mid-dive with a subtle tilt of its wings, tracking him the way an eagle tracks its prey. There was no dodging it. There was no outrunning it. And it struck the lead keifon with the force of a falling boulder. 

The impact pitched the barge forward and sideways. John was thrown from his seat, his hands clawing at nothing. The sky spun around him. White ground, grey sky, the dark underside of the barge and the eagle's talons buried in the keifon's flesh, everything spun in his eyes, making him disoriented. The rest of the keifons screamed and tried to fly in every direction. Then the harness snapped, the carriage tilted and fell alongside him. 

The frozen ground rushed up to meet him.

John's last thought before the darkness took him was that none of the information mentioned eagles.

By all logic, the surface of Ukan-Agula should be something between a sparse taiga and a barren desert. The Driftmount hangs high in the open sky, battered constantly by winds and buried in snow for half the year. It receives only a few brief months of warmth. This is barely enough for lichen growth, not enough for any substantial forest growth. And yet, the Driftmount carries deep green highland woods, rolling grasslands and wildlands thick with life, as if the flying island has decided that the normal rules of the world do not seem to apply to it.

The strangeness of contrasting life and high air environments is not in the animals themselves. Walk through the Driftmount and you will see many recognizable beings. Pines, birches, oaks, ashes, all recognizable surface tree species. Foxes denning between root systems, rabbits threading through the undergrowth, squirrels chattering from the tree branches, deer and hogs rummaging through the berry shrubs and bushes. Nothing out of the ordinary compared to the surface-world, aside from minor adaptation differences such as constant gale-resistant heavier, stockier animals living on the open plains while small animals that lack such a body congregate in forested regions. Many outsiders cannot easily explain the reason behind such a lively environment.

The secret lies in a unique bio-system native to the Driftmount. The Audoi named it Owlyn Zylok, translated as Winterhearth.

Winterhearth is not a single organism. It is a collective name for a symbiotic mesh of a moss, a surface-algae and a fungus, all native to the Driftmount, interwoven together and essentially functioning as a single living system. It collectively colonizes the forest floors, dense undergrowth of bushes and anchors to root systems of vegetation. This is because Winterhearth alone struggles to root itself firmly enough to resist winds. So, it clings to the forests more, spreads thickly across the sheltered woods and thins across the open grasslands.

Alone, Winterhearth is an unremarkable mesh, but it keeps the forests and plants alive through the long Driftmount winter.

The exact science behind Winterhearth's ability remains mostly unknown. But Audoi observers and scholars have pieced together a broad life-cycle knowledge about it over many generations.

In summer, the surface elements of Winterhearth are at their most active. The deep purple moss and algae spread across the forest floor, catching any available light. Using the abundant summer light, it converts most of the intake nutrients into densely packed energy reserves within its subterranean network. Audoi jokingly refer to this phase as a feeding season similar to a mammal preparing for long winter hibernation.

Then the winter arrives and buries everything with snow. Below the surface, the subterranean fungi elements of Winterhearth take over the primary function. It begins to break down dead organic matter in the soil, such as fallen tree trunks, dead roots and long-buried leaves. It works on dead matter similar to earthworms, steadily and thoroughly decomposing while fueled by the energy reserves from the summer stockpile. This process generates a faint but persistent heat, just enough to sustain biological functions. Beneath the thick layer of snow, insulated from the freezing air above, this gentle warmth keeps the root systems alive throughout the winter.

So the plants and forests cheat the coldness of long winter months. Above ground, everything is mostly locked up. Frost seals the bark, ice hangs from the branches and nothing grows for months. But underground the root systems keep working. They absorb nutrients, aided by Winterhearth, and channel them into reserves. The roots grow slowly but denser and stronger, packed with sugar, starch and raw materials, swelling like a muscle under tension. Where lowland forests go dormant and wait for summer warmth to return, the Driftmount forests spend winter getting ready for summer.

When the snow finally recedes, something dramatic happens. An explosion of greenery. It happens fast enough to frighten someone who has never seen it. Trees that spent months loading themselves with energy expend it all in a matter of a few weeks. Trunks swell, branches shoot out and leaves erupt so thick and fast that the canopy seems to close overnight. A lowland tree might take a full growing season to put on the same greenery that a Driftmount oak gains before summer ends.

To observe the Driftmount shift from white silence to dense green highland in a span of a few weeks would feel, to most surface visitors, less like biology and more like magic at work.

The architect of this transformation is largely invisible during the winter. In winter, Winterhearth is a subterranean system. You do not see it. Walk through a Driftmount forest in deep winter and the ground gives way softly under your boots instead of the expected frozen solid. Kneel down, press your palm against the ground or an exposed root and you will feel a faint pulse of warmth coming up. The air near the ground smells strange, a layered scent of something decomposing and something sweet. And if you dig the ground, you might find darkened moss, golden amber threads of algae laced through the roots, the dark green fungal growth webbing everything together into one continuous thing.

For the Audoi, they do not find any of this remarkable. They grew up with warm earth underfoot in the dead of winter. To them, it is simply what forests feel like. The outsiders, stepping onto soft, warm earth while snow piles on the tree branches, would feel that something unusual is happening here.

The Audoi have no unified army. Each kin-group (clan) maintains its own militia, equipped, trained, and commanded within the clan. However, full-time professional soldiering is an expensive affair, and many clans cannot afford more than a handful of people kept away from daily labor to sustain the clan. Therefore, a number of active Audoi warrior relatively small during peace time. Despite the absence of a large standing force, the vast majority of Audoi have been trained for combat and weapon handling, including women, because martial arts is one of their favorite pastime activities. Clan Elders actively encourage this culture and frequently organize tournaments for all to participate. These tournaments, combined with years of inter-marriage, exchange of customs, and trade, helped to develop a shared way of fighting among the Audoi, even in the face of their deeply decentralized nation.

-----

Audoi militia can be generally categorized into four roles: Skirmishers, Warriors, Yrkul, and Aekyagt (I am too lazy to think more than 2 given-names for them). From these, the Yrkul and Aekyagt are considered the more professional soldiering, while the Skirmishers and Warriors are not permanent. They gather when needed and disband after the war is over.

Skirmishers are those who take up ranged weapons during wartime, raining arrows and bolts on the enemy from a distance. And warriors are those who favor melee weapons and several layers of armor to fight at close range. Specialized regiments such as siege specialists and demolition miners can form within either rank depending on the original professions of those who serve.

Yrkul, also known as Rangers, are warriors who have taken up arms and sworn oaths to forsake the comfort of the earth and endure the harshness of the wild to keep Audoi land safe from outsiders. They are organized into a semi-official military order and form multi-clan squads to confront the emerging threats. Typically, a lone Yrkul or a small squad constantly roams the surface, standing guard against the many dangers that haunt the wilds of Driftmount. Roaming sky-pirates seek to establish bases in the wilderness from which to raid unsuspecting Audoi settlements or the world below, hostile Driftmount primitive snow-apes, hungry Driftmount predators constantly stalk the wild, and worst of all, turncoat Audoi who have taken up banditry to prey on travelers and merchants. 

In combat, Audoi eyesight combined with their incredible strength makes the Yrkul something unsettling to face. Their arrows arrive from distances far beyond the warbow range of other races, and enemies fall to shots that seem to come out of nowhere. Even hilly terrain, where typical skirmishing would be greatly hindered, does nothing to blunt their effectiveness as the raining arrows arrive only to reveal that a Ranger has already climbed to positions other races would consider unreachable.

Aekyagt, translated as Armored Ones, are warriors who have wholly dedicated their lives to the safety of their community. They serve as police and firefighter during peacetime and form the elite core of the army during war. They take advantage of already impressive Audoi bodies by wearing far heavier armor than most other races could bear, carrying towering shields, and wielding brutal war pikes, hammers, and axes without tiring easily. A fully armored line of Aekyagt is a genuinely immovable object and a frightening sight to behold, yielding to nothing short of siege weapons built to crack fortifications.

-----

The weapons and armor the Audoi use are suited to their dense bodies and their way of fighting.

For ranged combat, the standard weapon is the warbow, a powerful bow of longbow or composite build. Crossbows are treated as sidearms as they cannot match a warbow's punch at the distances the Audoi prefer to fight, though their easy reloading makes them useful backup weapons for infantry. However, a far more fearsome weapon is carried by the Yrkul, monikered the Iron-Bow. Crafted entirely from metal using specialized techniques to hold exceptional spring tension, then further enchanted by magic-smiths, the Iron-Bow is in a class of its own. Rangers pair it with arrows reinforced by steel or bone cores, built to withstand the immense draw force and deliver deadly armor-piercing hits at range.

In recent years, guns have entered the Audoi arsenal. The Audoi appreciate how compact and easy to use they are compared to typical bows, but remain unimpressed by their accuracy at the distances Audoi fight. For now, firearms are mostly used in engagements where speed of shooting matters far more than precision.

Armor varies widely across clans depending on what each can afford. A mining clan sitting atop rich mineral veins can field heavy plate infantry that would draw jealous looks from a petty surface kingdom. Meanwhile, smaller hillside clans lean on layered leather and fur supplemented with metal, and rely on their deep knowledge of every hill, ridge, and blind corner in their territory as their true protection. Most clans field warriors in mixed sets rather than committing to a single type of armor.

------

"Bleed them before hitting them hard."

This is the shared mindset of the Audoi toward warfare. Facing the Audoi means enduring overwhelming ranged combat for a long stretch before catching glints of their infantry metal plates. Rangers often operate several days ahead of the main force, scouting and harassing opponents at ranges the enemy cannot easily answer. When the enemy pushes forward past the ambushes and traps the Rangers have laid, Skirmishers step in and add more pressure to the fight. By the time the enemy reaches the Audoi line, they have been thoroughly bled and must now face the heavy infantry led by the Aekyagt. Through sheer physicality and layered armor, these troops break the enemy wave the way a dam stops floodwater. Few who have faced them want to do it again.

And if an enemy somehow breaches an Audoi settlement and the fighting moves underground, the heavy infantry become worse to deal with, not better. Their ability to see in near-total darkness, combined with armor that shrugs off light weapons, turns tight tunnels into brutal affairs where numbers count for nothing.

Over the years, many enemies have gone to early graves after assuming the Audoi were weak prey, simply because they do not project the power of an empire.

Ukan-Agula’s top surface is very unforgiving to the unprepared. Its exceptionally strong winds and brutal winters have driven ancestors of Audoi to adapt their living conditions compared to comfy non-flying island surface dwellers. Typical buildings without good insulation are deeply impractical to live inside as such structures are required to burn enormous quantities of firewood or coal to simply remain liveable through long winter months. As a result, the overwhelming majority of Audoi make their homes underground or partially buried, where the earth itself becomes the primary insulator.

The Audoi doesn’t have a favored single type of architectural style. How an individual builds their home is shaped by the characteristics of the local clan traditions and the terrain available to them. However, their dwellings can be broadly grouped into four types:

Typical Building: Nothing to be noted. It's what you can expect of a building. These buildings are the simplest and offer no particular insulation beyond their walls.  For the Audoi, these are considered temporary by nature and primarily used by travelers, merchants, rangers and clans doing their annual relocation. Nobody plans to spend a winter inside if they can help it.

Earth-Covered Surface Buildings: These are the first step toward something more permanent. These are structures built on or just above the ground surface, using load bearing and long lasting materials, then they are heavily buried and packed with earth and turf over their roofs and walls. The thick earthen layer traps heat and deflects wind, turning what would otherwise be a freezing shell into a surprisingly warm interior. These tend to appear on the flatter regions of the island where digging deep is difficult, and are also often seen along the outskirts of any growing settlements.

Hillside Dwellings: These are bored sideways directly into the faces of hills, ridges and cliff walls. Entrances  typically face away from the dominant wind direction or cluster together in natural hollows where terrain provides cover from the wind.From there, the living space expands inwards into the living chambers that offers comfortable cool conditions. These are popular along the foothills of the central mountain range, where the terrain lends itself naturally to this approach. These hillside settlements are considered the most comfortable places to live, sheltered by hills from the winds and naturally experience milder winters and pleasant summers.

Near-Surface Pit Dwellings: They are dug downward from the surface, typically several meters deep, supported by carefully engineered roofs and columns of stones or bricks. They sit in a middle ground between the surface and the deeper underground, offering meaningful insulation without requiring the extensive excavation of a full underground city. These vary enormously in sizes and character from clan to clan. Some settlements favor large open communal halls at the center, warm gathering spaces where the whole settlement eats, works, and socializes together, with smaller personal chambers radiating outward from that central hub. Others take the opposite approach, building dense warrens of narrow, winding corridors that connect individual family dwellings in an interconnected maze — more intimate and  private. These types are most common to form settlements located on flatter regions of the island with little natural wind protection.

Underground Cities: A marvel of Audoi settlement that dwarfs all above. However, many of the such Audoi settlements were not built from scratch but grown outward from existing natural cave systems deep within land itself. Over generations, skilled miners and smiths expanded these caves into vast, multi-layered cities capable of housing thousands. The mountain itself becomes the architecture, great halls are carved from a  living rock, streets winding through passages that were once natural tunnels, and whole districts are stacked vertically o spread horizontally through the earth's interior. These cities are the cultural and political heart of Audoi society. Each of their age and scale mean they have accumulated layer upon layer of construction from different eras and different designs, making them feel like living records of Audoi history carved in stone.

(My bad attempt at helping some visualization)

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Name: Audoi or Ukan-Agulyn Audout (The People of The Driftmount in their words)

Flag/symbol: There is no unified flag for Audoi. However, the most common identifying item shown among them is a banner with a sun and moon symbol.

Location: Here

The Audoi reside on Ukan-Agula or commonly known as Driftmount to other nations, a massive landmass that slowly floats across the sky. The island drifts along a slow and cyclical migration path, passing through different zones over a period of 8 years.

Geography: The climate of Driftmount is extreme and unforgiving. Powerful winds frequently batter the exposed top surface relentlessly, while inner valleys hugging along the central mountain range enjoy comparatively milder conditions, shielded by the mountain peaks. The island’s seasons are stark: long harsh winters dominate the most of the year and temporarily broken by short and mild summers. Every eight years, when Driftmount migrates to the subtropical regions, the summer season becomes notably warmer and pleasant. Much of the island is covered in permafrost and glaciers are found throught the valleys and some highland regions are blanketed in a perpetual snow. All animal and plant life on the island has evolved to thrive in cold, wind-blasted environment.

Biology: Audoi are humanoids comparable to humans but have much heavier bodies. They have broad, barrel-shaped chests adapted for breathing in thin Driftmount air and oversized hands and feet that aid in gripping surfaces and maintaining balance against constant winds. Their bones and muscles are remarkably dense making an average Audoi roughly twice the weight of humans of similar size. This grants them exceptional grip strength and stability.
Their facial features also reflect generational adaptation to Driftmount’s harsh conditions:

• Eyes: Medium to small, set deep beneath heavy brow ridges. This structure shields against both sun glare and wind. Audoi eyes possess an extraordinary capacity for dilation and constriction, granting excellent vision in darkness and at great distances.

• Ears: Small and close-set to minimise exposure to frostbite. This adaptation weakens their hearing somewhat, which is why the Audoi are known for speaking very loudly.

• Nose: Large and broad, facilitating efficient breathing in cold, thin air.

• Beard: Both males and females can grow thick facial hair that serves as natural insulation against biting winds.

Although their hearing is below average, the Audoi compensate with exceptional eyesight. Their extreme pupil dilation allows them to see clearly in near-darkness and extreme constriction allow them to pick fine details at remarkable distances.
Additionally, the Audoi possess unique tactile sense through their large, bare feet. When walking without footwear, they can sense subtle vibrations in the ground which allows them to sense shifts in the island’s mass during migration. This ability is considered vital for navigating Driftmount’s edges.

If you need visual help, just imagine a fantasy dwarf the size of a human. Its important to note that Audoi are biologically incompatible with humans and cannot interbreed with them.

History: According to the Audoi legends, Driftmount was once a mountain range firmly rooted in the earth. However, a cataclysmic battle among unnamed forces shattered the land and tore great pieces from the surface and cast them into the sky as floating islands. The Ancestors of Audoi were people who found themselves trapped atop one such fragmented island. It is unknown when Audoi started dwelling underground as there are no known records extended to the creation of Mountain cities.

Society: Audoi are organized around kin-groups or clans. Each clan consists of families bound by blood and resides in their claimed portion of the island. And these clans function as semi-independent regional powers, maintaining their own militia, economy and internal governance. Each clan typically governed by a council of wise elders, who are advised by specialist experts. Authority and council membership is usually earned through experience and the trust of kins.
Once a year, delegates from each clan convene at the mountain city located in the central tallest peak. At this gathering, each representatives share news about island condition, discuss threats or opportunities and make collective decisions on matters that affect all Audoi.

Culture: Audoi culture values familial bonds and unwavering honesty. Because nearly everyone within clan is related by blood, lying to a clanmate is considered a betrayal of family. They greatly shame liars and ultimately many liars choose exile. Over generations, this cultural norm has shaped Audoi into a people who are blunt, straightforward in all their dealings.
Interestingly, marriage within one’s own clan is strictly forbidden. When young Audoi come of age, it is customary for them to travel to other clans and live among them for a period. During this time, they must earn the trust and respect of the host clan. If successful, they may court and marry a member of that clan and bring their spouse back to their home holdings. This tradition serves to continuously blend customs, stories and practices between clans, creating shared culture across the island while allowing regional variations. Therefore, clan members are encouraged to travel farther regions to find spouses.

Occurrence of magic: Magic is considered to be a specialized branch of smithing. They welcomes it and greatly respects magic smiths because their constructs allows Audoi to live underground, travel to the surface and and generally make life more bearing.

Faded Wonder: The eternal Spring. Deep within the central mountain, there is a spring that flows without ceasing known as Heart of Driftmount. This spring feeds water to the entire island and has never been known to run dry. Approximately once every eight years, the spring’s water temporarily turns milky white. This phenomenon is known as Lifeblood pouring. Any creature or plant that drinks the lifeblood during this period receives a surge of magically charged energy. They grow larger and stronger and their overall vitality is greatly enhanced.

IMPORTS, EXPORTS, & MAJOR INDUSTRIES: Due to the rather isolated nature of the island, Audoi happily imports goods they cannot easily produce: foods, quality timbers and raw minerals.
In return they would sell highly purified mineral ingots, fur/leather(all animals on the surface of Driftmount are adapted to extreme cold and wind, making their fur one of the best in the world) and their interestingly earthy and tasty Mushroom-Ale!
Underground dwellings of Audoi are great places for smiths to gather. They produce great quality metalworks with fine details.