The Krowh

The Krowh are a people forged in conflict, wild, relentless, and bound by the creed of strength. Their blue-green hides shimmer like wet stone, mottled with scale-like markings that hint at bloodlines enhanced by old magics. War is their inheritance and their language, where every scar is worn proudly and every victory a mark of worth. When the war howls sound, even seasoned armies falter, for the Krowh fight not for coin or conquest, but for the sheer glory of domination.

Once sworn to the service of the Ancients, the grandiose empire whose ruins still haunt the wilds, the Krowh outlived their masters and rose as lords of ruin. Now they splinter into varying tribes, some mercenary warbands carving a path across the isles, some staking fresh dominions tangled in the quiet venom of inter-tribal politics, and others brooding in the old Drakh ruins, clutching their fading traditions and responsibilities. To outsiders, they are dangerous neighbours in any form, a people of blood and chaos. Yet beneath the savagery lies an unyielding order, a brutal hierarchy where strength defines all, and cowardice is an unforgivable sin.

For all their ferocity, the Krowh endure with grim pride. Empires have come and gone, but their tribes remain, though scarred, unbroken, and eternal. Their loyalty to kin and warlord runs deep as the sea trenches of their homeland, and through unending war they have become living weapons. To stand before the Krowh is to face something ancient and primal, not merely an enemy, but a people too stubborn, too fierce, to ever truly die.