Okay. So, I didn't write up a government section yet, and I may reorganize things a little, and I'd be okay with having the area I picked out trimmed down in size, BUT... I have the skeleton of an application ready to go. Here it is.

If anything doesn't jive well with the themes of this RP, let me know.

Two asides: first, I wound up dropping the "worship the Vishput as gods" idea. Secondly, I was listening to this the whole time: [url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQ5xCl8lnl0[/url]

That background ambiance may have influenced my writing.

[hider=Oumaoro][b]Realm:[/b] The People of Oumaoro
[b]Race:[/b] The Oracles, Humans
[b]Location:[/b]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/okm4toR.png[/img]

[b]Backstory-History[/b]

[center][i]History is not simply a series of facts
nor merely a matter of the strong overcoming the weak.
Two opposing stories often are both true
and no people, however weak, are truly powerless.
Those bound to a single, absolute truth
have no understanding of what or why history is.

- Oracle Omauoi

Legends and myths may only be stories to those that call themselves civilized,
but they are as much a part of history as the books the civilized hold so dear.

- Oracle Uluip[/i]

-------------------------------------------------------[/center]

The pale, beautiful, serpentine creatures known as the Oracles have dwelt far beneath the earth since times immemorial. Legend says that when the dwarves, the Vishput, first found them, they believed them to be nothing more than strange cave animals. So, the dwarves captured these gentle beings and butchered them, savoring their soft, sweet flesh. When the first Oracle spoke to them in the words of their own language, the gluttonous people were themselves speechless. That Oracle had learned to speak the language of the Empire of Visha in the span of a fortnight.

There were many more Oracles in that bygone era. The Vishput, however, did not appreciate the cleverness of their species. They saw the Oracles as a threat, as an infestation that had to be burned away before it could bring total destruction to their world. And so that is what they did: the Vishput found where the peaceful Oracles made their homes and set about murdering a great many of them. Yet the Oracles did not fight back: they let the dwarves have their way, and when the petty destroyers finally saw the passivity of the creatures, they had already slain so many that the caverns were flowing with blood that went up to their knees, so the legend goes.

The Oracles did not hate the Vishput for this.

The blind creatures were enslaved by the Vishput, but not as mere laborers or soldiers. Some were kept as pets in zoos or in the courts of Visha princes. The species was recognized for its keen intellect, however, a shrewd nature that equaled or perhaps even surpassed that of the ancient dwarven peoples. So, in an odd twist of fate, the same creatures that were often seen as pets to those very princes would be offering their sagely advice to their owners, and a great many still were kept in the Stone Library of Samra Raj as lorekeepers and scribes. Those Oracles were tasked with recording history, teaching it (under Vishput supervision) to others, and maintaining the purity of the records. They were punished terribly for any damage done to the archives, for allowing any falsehoods - falsehoods in the eyes of the Empire's rulers - to enter the Stone Books, and for any measure of disobedience. Execution or dismemberment was often the means by which justice was dispensed, and the remains of the guilty would find themselves in the guts of wealthy families of the Empire.

And still the Oracles did not hate the Vishput.

But over the years, the Oracles did much to plant seeds that would shake the stability of the Empire. The words they whispered to the Vishput princes would be vague or half-truths. Those words encouraged them to watch their rivals out of jealousy and fear. The ones kept in the zoos would tell riddles and ask questions that would make onlookers think things they were not meant to think. And those who guarded the books, those whose task was to etch into stone only that which was true, did just that, carving into the stone all the different truths to be found in the past. The Vishput, however, only wished for one truth to be written - their truth - and their works were undermined by those pale beings that martyred themselves to spread the many stories that needed to be told.

The Oracles planted these seeds of discord. They did not do it out of hate, not out of malice, but because they had seen what the Vishput would do to them and to all other peoples. The Empire of Visha was a threat, an infestation that had to be burned away before it could bring total destruction to their world. So, in that strange way the current of history ebbs and flows, the Oracles helped bring about the collapse of the Empire that brought genocide to the Oracles. Their rebellion, while bloodless and without violence, was as real as all the others. Their part in the Empire's fall was no less substantial than the contributions of those other revolutionaries.

That is, at least, what the stories say. The stories say more: that the Oracles' plot was discovered by the Vishput shortly before their empire completely crumbled, and that the gentle creatures were slain by the hundreds wherever they could be found. Those in the Stone Library managed to survive, but only a sparse few outside of Samra Raj were able to escape death. Those have long since withered in their old age and passed away in distant lands.

The fall of the Empire was absolute. The gentle Oracles kept the doors to their great libraries sealed until the violence stopped. When they opened the door, they saw a city in ruin, a place full of ghosts and terrible memories. So, they gathered as many of the countless Stone Books as they could and left the city, traveling south into the wet marshlands of what is now called Oumaoro ("The Watery Place" in the Oracles' ancient language).

The city the Oracles found was in terrible disrepair. It was not as large as most other cities, was of very little significance, and was one of the first places to be abandoned in the wake of the troubles. Much of its surface half had been devoured by the swamp - including its great dam - and many parts of the underground were flooded or collapsed. This, however, was exactly what made it so attractive to the Oracles. The amphibious beings turned the watery ruins into their new home and filled its underground pools with their eggs.

For a time, there was peace there. The earth soon spawned a new threat to their existence, however: the Shishkarat. The little creatures would come and try to kill them from time to time, but centuries of being punished by the Vishput had taken away the utter passivity in the Oracles. The young ones fought back, using their massive jaws and their whip-like tails to drive back the vicious Shishkarat. It was a terrible thing to them still: they had no desire to fight, and even despite their efforts their numbers slowly dwindled. They needed help.

Humans came, having heard hearing stories from adventurers of great, pale dragons that lived beneath the swamps. They met the Oracles in their subterranean home, marveling at their size, their beauty, and their kindness. The Oracles let them take whatever they wished from the city and the surrounding land and allowed them to settle wherever they wished. It quickly became clear to both parties that they could help one another: the humans had trouble fending off creatures in the wetlands while the Oracles could maneuver through the waters with ease. Conversely, the Oracles were hard pressed to fend of the seemingly endless Shishkarat attacks whereas the humans, while not well adapted to tunnels, could wield weapons and wear armor that allowed them to defend the Oracles from the endless waves of monsters. A symbiotic relationship was quickly formed.

Years went on. The humans of the territory and the Oracles shared much with each other. The humans came to respect the Oracles and revere them as great seers and teachers. The humans managed to make the decaying city, now called Oumal, inhabitable. They lived above the ground while the Oracles lived below, and soon they did not need the Oracles to help them protect themselves from the threats in the marsh.

From this city and the settlements that sprouted around it was the nation of Oumaoro born. They did not call it a kingdom, nor a republic, nor any of those other terms; it remains simply the Watery Place, as the place where they have built their city, as their home. At the heart of this storm-ridden land is the Flooded Temple in Oumal, the place where the Oracles still record history in the Stone Books. It is the Oracles that are appealed to for counsel by those that lead the people of the marsh, and it is the humans that march the shadowed halls beneath the earth, seeking out those threats to their benefactors.

That is, at least, what the stories say.

[b]The Oracles[/b]

There are few Oracles now, and though their numbers no longer shrink, they do not seem to be growing. There cannot be more than a hundred of them left in existence, and the people of Oumaoro bemoan the day when the species disappears from the world entirely.

Summarizing the Oracles is not an easy task. They are often known to be great, magnificent white creatures, like pale, eyeless dragons that dwell in the water and move with serpentine grace. They are eyeless, and yet somehow are able to move throughout the world around them. The Oracles say this is because they make sounds with their throats that let them listen to the vibrations of their surroundings, but legends claim that it must be magic. But perhaps what makes Oracles unique are these two qualities: they do not eat past their egg-laying age and they shrink as they grow older.

Oracles begin as eggs in the bottom of the sacred birthing pools in the subterranean half of Oumal. These eggs absorb whatever drifts down to them, and the more they absorb the larger they'll grow, but they can survive without such sustenance.

An Oracle is largest on the day it hatches, usually between thirty-five and forty feet long - gargantuan compared to most creatures in the world to say the least. These young Oracles are like great, swimming lizards in this form with tiny limbs that are dwarfed by the rest of their body. It is also during this time of youth that Oracles lay their eggs in the sacred pools; after that, they will never eat again.

Oracles shrink. Over their long lives - three hundred years long, to be exact - they slowly become smaller and smaller until they are the size of a man. When they are man-sized, they begin standing upright on their legs and can carry things in their hands, but they are at this point so old and frail that warfare is an impossibility for them. Finally, as they near death, Oracles will submerge themselves into their sacred birthing pools where they will feed their unborn children with their own bodies.

Interestingly, there are no males or females among the Oracles. They are genderless: every member of the species is capable of laying eggs and may fertilize the eggs of any other member of its species. This is confusing to other races.

Oracles are highly intelligent creatures. They are highly curious and inquisitive and are always happy to tell or listen to a story. Oracles of different ages set out into the world to discover new things, and this is a cause for their inability to grow as a species. Being so peaceful, many of these would-be adventurers are slain in the open world either by the harshness of the wild or the cruelty of man.

Some Oracles are taken into the courts of distant rulers where they become sages and teachers. This sort of position is amiable to them, but they often return home before they die so they may join their children in the sacred pools.

The species is dedicated to the preservation of the Stone Books, an ever-expanding volume of stone tablets on which the history of the world is etched. They are also willing to write almost anything into stone so long as someone is willing to tell a story. To them, a simple wives' tale has as much historical merit as the recording of a great war. This, too, has been a source of much confusion and anger; many a noble has come to the Oracles to have his legend carved into stone only to be forced to wait for a simple fishmonger to finish telling the Oracles his own story.

The humans of the land do not worship the Oracles as gods, but they do revere them as higher-than-human beings. They often come to the sacred pools to pray alongside the Oracles for guidance and wisdom, to meditate, and to watch the birth of their young. The Oracles often tell their visitors stories of the past, some of them tales of ancient kings, others of the common adventures of children in the woods. These qualities, along with their inherent kindness, their abhorrence for bloodshed, and their largely non-judgmental perspective makes them well-loved by the people of Oumaoro.[/hider]