Maero

"'I will be immortalized! Ogo Tawa, o twelve-eyed watcher, behold me now, for this day, I take my rightful place in legend!' - the last living words of Kampauu, current immortalized hero and archon of Ro'olele." Every culture has its heroes. Every culture has its legends, its tales that trickle down through the generations and live on for centuries upon centuries by sheer virtue of a desire for storytelling. But when it comes to heroes and legends, there is no culture quite like that of the Maero. For this enigmatic and deeply shamanistic people, legends are more than just fairy tales.

The Maero are, in many ways, strange creatures to witness. They stand at approximately the same height as humans and share their general silhouette, but differ in several important ways. Much unlike humans - οr any other civilized creature known to Sheyan eyes - it is not flesh that surrounds their bones, but smooth and solid wood. To further emphasize this odd dualism of fauna and flora, their hair is not hair at all, but long and glistening locks of seaweed. Oftentimes, barnacles decorate their bark-like skin or their seaweed hair, and in between their fingers and toes, flexible webbing allows them to swim with much greater ease than the human-kind they vaguely resemble. Strangest of all, perhaps, is their face - for in truth, they have none at all. They have no nose, no mouth, and no eyes, at least not as they are traditionally understood. Rather, they have eyes, a mouth, and eyebrows that exist purely through some strange innate magic that seems to emulate paint. Shimmering strokes of arcane paint give them the ability to make facial expressions as vividly as any other living creature - sometimes more so, for this arcane paint is not bound by normal physical restrictions - and it may come in many different colors from one individual Maero to the other. Red, blue, green, or purple - all are within the realm of the natural for these strange folk. They can speak though they have no mouths, and they have no need of food, for their seaweed hair absorbs all the Maero needs from sunlight. Many outsiders have described these faces as "animated masks." Which may be no coincidence at all.

The Might in the Mask
Maero society is a fragmented and warlike one. The island-speckled realm of Huamani'i is ruled by dozens and dozens of small tyrants, each reigning over a territory which they have carved out for themselves through violent conquest. Maero society is one made up of city states whose territory usually envelops an entire island and some of the water that surrounds it. For unlike most other races, the Maero do not confine themselves just to the land. With the ability to swim with great ease and breathe underwater, the Maero built their cities equal parts on land and underwater. Some particularly marvellous cities of glistening marble may even encompass both at the same time, seamlessly transitioning from the world of sun and wind to the world of ocean currents. Each city has its own set of laws, its own army, and its own governing institutions, these may vary quite drastically from one city state to the other. One may be ruled by the iron fist of a single tyrant, while another might be more democratic in its legislations. However, there is one political trait that all Maero city states share, and it is the one that places legend and heroism in the very center of their culture.

One subset of the Maero people are the so-called "spirit anchors" - revered shamans who possess the power to enter into the world of the dead, of spirits, and communicate with long-lost heroes of old. This may be done at any point of the spirit anchor life, but most important point is during their training, through one particular rite called The Writing of the Contract. It is a process in the latest stage before the trainee may call themselves a true spirit anchor, where they forge a bond with one particular hero of old, and bind that hero to a mask. If the trainee survives the process, and successfully writes a contract with the deceased hero, they will become a true spirit anchor, now bestowed with a mask which they can don at any time, and allow the hero to possess the spirit anchor's body. Not only is this often a bestowal of impressive power, but it is also the only way through which a Maero might become archon - the highest and most powerful institution of political power of any Maero city state. Though some city states may be more democratic than others, no city state does not have an archon - and this archon is never a living Maero, but the summoned spirit of an old legend, who has taken possession of a spirit anchor's body. Thus, never once in Maero history has a living soul reigned supreme over other Maero. It is, as the only such system in existence, a necrocracy.

Because of this, many Maero strive to make heroes and legends of themselves, for they know that it is the only road to power. To become a king as a Maero, one must die, forge a legend for oneself, and write a contract with a spirit anchor thereafter. But, for a Maero, what does 'legend' even mean?

O Twelve-eyed Watcher
Most gods, goddesses, or other deities in the myriad of cultures that speckle the land of Shey, are reclusive things, mostly ephemeral and shy to ever show themselves. However, the prime deity of the Maero is no such god. Ogo Tawa, the great twelve-eyed whale, pale as snow and titanic in size, shows itself once every year to the Maero. At the turn of the year, at the height of winter, Ogo Tawa always emerges from the abyssal depths that surround Huamani'i, and shows himself to all who might gather to witness him. He swims from island to island, singing to the spirit anchors who have learned to understand his song, sharing his eternal wisdom with them. Ogo Tawa's journey from island to island takes a week in total, and during that week, no city state goes to war, for it is Ogo Tawa's will that they make peace and listen to him. At the end of that week, he returns once more to the abysses, and does not return until the following year. But his importance does not fade, just because he has gone.

It is said that each of Ogo Tawa's twelve eyes represents one virtue of Maero society: mercy, leadership, inspiration, sacrifice, luck, justice, wisdom, power, age, compassion, bravery, and respect for the natural world. It is through one - or more! - of these virtues that a Maero might make a hero of themselves. One might be a brave and valiant warrior, but one might also be an exceptionally gifted sculptor. One might possess astounding amounts of knowledge, or one might simply grow very, very old. All of these are paths that a Maero might follow to become recognized as a legend, and thus achieve immortality. Curiously, many human scholars have also noticed that each of Ogo Tawa's twelve eyes have an uncanny resemblance to the human pantheon of twelve gods, and conclude that it can be no coincidence at all.

When a Maero performs an act of heroism, it is not uncommon for them to invoke the phrase "O twelve-eyed watcher, behold me now!", to ensure that Ogo Tawa is there to witness their heroic deed, and to accept their attempt at legend. It is said that Ogo Tawa will behold the Maero in question with the eye that fits the deed being done - the eye representing bravery will behold an act of bravery, the eye representing sacrifice will behold an act of sacrifice, and so on. For each eye of Ogo Tawa, there is also a temple somewhere in Huamani'i, where disciples, shamans, and aspiring heroes will go to seek guidance or communion. Furthermore, in each temple, there is also a book that holds the names of all recognized heroes, their names appearing on the pages all on their own, and whole new pages appearing when there is not enough. Thus, canonically, there are twelve temples and twelve books - but there are legends of a thirteenth temple with a thirteenth book: Guile.

While heroes are the most recognized figures in Maero culture, the tricksters are not far behind. Although these Maero have not walked any of the twelve paths of heroism, they possess the cunning to trick Ogo Tawa into thinking that they have. They are unscrupulous deal-makers, impeccable liars, crafters of webs so intricate that even gods cannot see through them. The names of these masters of subterfuge are written in the Book of Guile, which can be found within the Temple of Guile, but unlike the other temples, which are all built on islands or on the ocean floor, this one is said to be built on the back of an enormous turtle. Thus, it is always on the move, sometimes above water, sometimes below, and legend has it that the turtle will belch out a thick fog to obscure it even further. Thus, finding the Book of Guile is a tremendous task for aspiring spirit anchors or tricksters - if it even exists.

When a Maero dies, it is said that their spirit joins Ogo Tawa in the abyssal depths, where no living Maero has ever delved. Though their bodies are made of sturdy wood, no Maero has ever dived that deep and not succumbed to the immense pressure that follows. However, when living spirit anchors enter the spirit world through trance, they describe the place as a forest of tall coral reefs and soft, smooth floors of sand. It is too dark down there for any kind of sunlight to reach, but the corals sometimes carry small luminous bulbs that guide the way. They say that every spirit they meet down there is a hero, and that there is a curious lack of simple, ordinary people... and this for a good reason. For while Ogo Tawa enjoys the company of heroes, ordinary folk are nothing but food for him. Whenever a Maero who has not achieved anything praiseworthy dies, they sink to the abyss like all the rest, but scarcely last a week before Ogo Tawa has found them and swallowed them whole - unless they have tricked him into thinking they are heroes. For Ogo Tawa, while certainly a wise god, is also a hungry one.

Legends
Needless to say, the Maero are a storytelling folk, and thus have a meticulously described history - though perhaps one that has changed a little, as it trickled through the generations. By wise Maero elders, it is said that the first of their kind came to be during the Silent Years, after the humans had been wiped off the face of the world. However, while the humans all perished, the druids of The Fairlands remained, for they had shed so much of their previous humanity, that the forces that annihilated the humans did not even recognize the druids as human. Rather, they had embraced the gifts of dryadism: the absolute surrender to the natural world, where the weak flesh is cast away in favour of sturdy wood, and all facial features erased. In such a state, almost all dryads would never return to their previous civilized ways. Almost.

The legend of Pakonui, Rongo, and Nalumata is one every Maero knows. It is the legend of three dryads who, for reasons inexplicable, decided to leave their home forests, and venture east. They ventured through the hills of Gorothia and the arid canyons of The Dragonlands, until they made it to the eastern-most shore, where they were met by a god: Ogo Tawa. The white twelve-eyed whale offered them a new home, a new realm to give birth to civilization anew, and they accepted. They climbed unto the back of Ogo Tawa, who took them to the islands of Huamani'i, where they designated their territory and erected the first city states. They planted their seeds in the jungles and beaches, and over the generations, the oak-like features of the three first Maero became more and more akin to those of today, with seaweed hair and webbed hands and feet. However, even these later generations still missed one thing: their faces.

It was said that some five hundred years after Pakonui, Rongo, and Nalumata arrived at Huamani'i, a young Maero girl survived the annihilation of her city state, and fled into the jungle. Here, she languished for months, fighting off wild beasts and watching as the conquerors of her old city built a new one upon the ruins. She wished for nothing more than revenge, and just one night thereafter, she was visited by a ghost. And not just any ghost, but that of Rongo, who made a proposal to the young girl: if she would let him possess her, he would give her what she desired. She did not hesitate the accept. She performed a ritual of painting wildly exaggerated facial features on herself, and as soon as she did, Rongo entered her body and the paint came to life. In the body of the young girl, Rongo singlehandedly defeated the entire forces of the nation that had conquered the young girl's home, and all those he did not slaughter, he offered them protection under his dominance. Many accepted. But when the deed was done and the invading forces had been pushed back, Rongo decided never to leave the young girl's body. So he remained there 'till she grew old and withered away, giving birth to many other Maero in the meantime who shared the same animated facial features as himself, all while ruling over this reborn city state. Thus, the little girl became the first spirit anchor of the Maero, and Rongo the first archon. Ever since, the tradition lives on today, for better or for worse.