[center][h2][color=8A2BE2]The Kingdom of Alimor[/color][/h2][/center]

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It had been a few days since the great storm had ended, and all that was left of the Alimorian fleet was now but wreckage upon the shores. Keltheron the King-Mage had been swift to order the fanning out onto the grassy plains nearby to find a suitable location to settle. The mission was still the same, after all; to find a new land to call their own. The earth was fertile, to the north there was a forest and to the east they could see mountains. Small lakes dotted the landscape, with small streams befit their size. So small were the bodies of water that they were barely worth mapping out, but perhaps they could be fished out of regardless.
The initial settlement wasn't intended to be their capital, that much Keltheron and his senators had already decided, but it would be ideal for starting out. Thus, the settlement was named Ehrendal. The name of Alimor the King-Mage would save for the ideal place for their capital.

As the hovels and huts were constructed up on the grassy hill that was to be their home from now, Keltheron looked upon his people.
Their skin was bronze and brown, their hair ranging from brown to pitch-black. Their eyes were yellow, a gift from their God of Magic that according to legend shaped them out of clay. Not a single Alimorian did not have yellow eyes, and to be birthed with anything else would be an anomaly, and depending on the color, perhaps even an abomination.
The purple, the deep violet, was their royal color and thus donned only on the cape of Keltheron himself. Yellow were the clothes of the senators - mighty wizards and cunning politicians, nobles. Red were the tunics of the warriors, and green and brown were the colors of the commonfolk. Farmers, woodworkers, carpenters. Those who held higher titles despite their commoner background were sometimes given a sash with a different color and iron buckle to reflect their recognized status. For example, smiths and crafters who made magical items for the magician-caste wore a yellow sash.
Despite their clear system of casts, all knew their place in the hierarchy and although seemingly different, they were all bound together by their heritage. The ancient Alimorian heritage that ran through their blood - the gift of magic.
When among their own kin, an Alimorian never hides. When out in the world however, or when dealing with other cultures, they don face-masks befitting of their status. They were mostly plain and white, with symbols belonging to their caste.

The first days of their new lives lay before them. The people of Alimor were ready to meet the world.

[color=gray](OOC note: Now that Cyclone is co-GMing he stated I may now join the RP myself if I wanted to. Obviously, I will not write my own turns, but I felt like I wanted to make that clear regardless. Let's have fun, lads!)[/color]