MIKSKEK

     An adult Mikskek rarely stands over 3½ feet in height. Though roughly humanoid, the immediate impression is that of a large, flightless bird of questionable pedigree. The head of a Mikskek is that of a plucked penguin; an ebony beak protrudes from a small, earless head, which in turn sits atop a thin, bony neck. The eyes, though bright as jewels, are beady and black. Mikskeki skin tones range from tan to dark brown.

     The arms are thin, and the four-fingered hands are little more than bones and tendons. The scrawny chicken-legs are bent deeply at the knee, as if the creature was bearing some oppressive, invisible weight. The backbone is badly curved and the chest bent forward, giving the impression of a creature always ready to fall flat on its beak. Though the feet look like they belong to some great bird of prey, they are used for walking, not slaying. To finish this unsightly portrait, the stubby tail can sometimes be discerned beneath their garments. As can be imagined, the assembled creature is slow, ponderous, and awkward; little wonder that the Mikskek avoid deep water, for their unwieldy bodies sink like the proverbial stone.

     Those Mikskeki typically encountered are dressed in the traditional garb of their professions, with mages wearing their seiajen, and priests their robes of office. No self-respecting Mikskek would be caught dead wearing any sort of armor.

     The Mikskek can learn to speak nearly any human, demi-human, or humanoid tongue, though with a characteristically clipped and high-pitched accent. A good thing, since their own language consists largely of clicks, whistles, and other avian utterances. A group of the creatures laughing sounds all the world like a raucous penguin rookery.

     If looking at a Mikskek wasn’t enough to dampen one’s enthusiasm, actually speaking to one could put a stranger off entirely. The rambling, often absent-minded discourse and odd personal habits of the Mikskek are legendary, and leads many to dismiss the race as a sad collection of addled yet harmless eccentrics. The Mikskek are well aware of their public image, and are beyond either offense or embarrassment. They are blissfully aware of their own worth, and are thankful for their many blessings.

     Many of these blessings are part and parcel of their puny frames. Though seriously lacking in raw muscle, the Mikskek possess remarkable constitutions. They are extremely disease resistant, and their endurance makes even a dwarf seem frail. (A healthy Mikskek can go for four days and nights without food, water, or sleep without ill effect, and be active all the while.) Their arms and fingers are extremely quick and sure, traits also shared by their spoken words. Their 90’ infravision is a welcome ability for a specie able to travel day and night without fatigue. But most precious of all are their vast life spans, with the eldest of the race often exceeding 900 years of age.

     The Mikskek even regard their eccentric nature as a sort of gift. It serves to elicit affection and inspire trust in the good at heart, while deflecting a lot of aggression from the crude and ignorant (after all, such daft creatures can’t possibly be that dangerous.) But those who truly understand Mikskeki nature know the truth: the Mikskek are highly intelligent, wise, and shrewd, and possess the mind and the will to accomplish nearly anything they set their minds to.

     The spirit of the Mikskek can best be described as serene. Humble, meek, and gentle by nature, their only enemies are those who reject all that is good and noble in the mortal spirit. Great lovers of beauty, their race spawns a remarkable number of fine artists and master artisans. Many everyday items of Mikskeki make are considered fine collectibles by other races, commanding top prices on the open market. Some pieces are, in fact, crafted for the collectors’ market, but almost as an afterthought. Money is a useful tool to the Mikskek, nothing more.

     The Mikskek have lived with arcane and spiritual powers for so long that magic seems to run in their very blood. Mikskeki priests have discovered a number of novel outlets and expressions of spiritual magics, and their wizards are among the most skilled and prolific creators of magical items anywhere on Minarra.

Combat: On the surface, the Mikskek seem at an appalling disadvantage when it comes to defending themselves. They are hardly able to run from danger and, once caught, their beaks can do but little harm (1-2 hp), and their limbs none at all. Only their tough, rubbery hides afford any sort of protection (AC 8).

     But this impression is very misleading. No Mikskek is allowed to wander the world unless the individual is at least a 5th level mage, 5th level cleric, or 4th level mage/cleric. Each carries at least one offensive and defensive magical item, and Mikskeki mages also have the standard +1 to +3 AC bonus from their seiajen. Lastly, each traveling Mikskek has a warding worm nestled deep within its digestive tract. Taking all the usual defenses into account, a Mikskek will have an adjusted AC of no less than 4, and often considerably higher.

     (A warding worm is a tiny parasite, harmless to the Mikskek but fatal to just about any other race. Newly hatched worms are bred in special incubators, and are fed an arcane formula that causes the worm to radiate a potent magical aura of protection (+3 to +5 AC). The mature worm is then swallowed whole by its host, and washed down with clerically purified water. Warding worms live two to three years.)

     The rapid speech and phenomenal manual dexterity of the Mikskek also aid in their defense. Any spell cast by the Mikskek has its casting time reduced by half, all fractions dropped; the same holds true for any command words issued to devices.

     Given their long lives, magical prowess, and frequent contact with other races in all manner of situations, the Mikskek have learned to recognize those places and conditions where an attack might be in the offing. Accordingly, any beings hoping to ambush a party of Mikskek must deal with their heightened sense of danger and possible magical aids. (In game terms, Mikskek are surprised only on a roll of 1.)

     The Mikskek are confined to a narrow list of weapons: clubs (i.e., walking sticks or canes), staffs, daggers, knives, darts, and hand crossbows (the latter is an ancient tradition, long respected by those of other races.) There is only a 5% chance of these weapons not being enchanted in some way.

     Mikskek THAC0s, attack rolls, and saving throws are governed by the same rules as single- or multi-classed characters of the same class and level; Mikskeki NPCs, regardless of class, use 8-sided dice for hit points like any other monster. Their base magic resistance is 5%, plus 2% for every mage and/or cleric level, whichever is higher. The x.p. value of a defeated Mikskek is determined by using the "Creature Experience Point Values" and "Hit Dice Value Modifiers" tables in the DMG.

Habitat/Society: Selfless service to the House of Light has been at the core of Mikskeki existence since the Age of Mists. As a consequence, more than half the total population of the race can be found wandering from one end of the continent to the other, doing whatever good works that need doing. In this, the Mikskek are as humble as they are determined, as gentle as they are steadfast. The Mikskek play no favorites; they will readily assist any that petition their help, race or status notwithstanding.

     Wandering Mikskek are almost always clerics or mages. They typically travel in groups of four to eight, and are rarely seen in numbers greater or less than this. There seems to be no set limit to Mikskek advancement in their professions; over the centuries, a fair number of Mikskeki priests have become Archmages and Serenities of their Orders.

     Mikskeki society is based on the clan and its designated territory. Clan territories are vast expanses of land, their limits usually defined by large-scale natural boundaries (rivers, mountain ranges, etc.) Though territories are clearly defined, the Mikskek themselves are hardly territorial; free passage is such a given that one doesn’t even consider it, and marriages between Mikskek of different clans are commonplace. Clan boundaries are meaningless to all save the Mikskek themselves, and they have no relation whatsoever to the national borders or political landscape of any other race.

     A Mikskeki clan is an egalitarian entity. There is little social hierarchy in the formal sense; in its place is a deep respect for clear-headed wisdom and life’s lessons learned, regardless of age or status. Matters of import are decided collectively, and are dealt with as quickly as prudence and thoroughness allow. While traveling Mikskek are more than happy to abide by the social strictures of other races, they privately wonder what the fuss is all about.

     Each Mikskek territory has a handful of communities scattered hither and yon. These outposts are always underground constructions, and are masterworks of aesthetic taste and engineering skill. Designed as much for comfort and contemplation as for safety and security, Mikskeki lairs have a cheerful and charming air of domesticity. Even today, Mikskeki outposts twenty centuries old and more are found in remarkably sound condition, and their homey touches rarely fail to bring a smile to the discoverer.

     The most important purpose of the strongholds is to provide a place to raise and educate the Mikskeki young. The youth of the race are not permitted to wander with their elders until their magical skills are sufficient to defend themselves, and this can take two centuries or more; therefore, Mikskeki children and pregnant females are almost never encountered. As can be imagined, visitors are rare, and by invitation only.

     Though Mikskek may live for the better part of a millennium, females may produce only two or three offspring in that time. The low birth rate, coupled with the losses sustained by the race in their wanderings, keep the total population essentially constant. This sobering fact generates a fanatical resolve in the Mikskek when defending their rare and precious young.

     If a stronghold is attacked and the magical defenses of the perimeter breached, the Mikskek will defend their progeny with a savage fury and a lethal cunning that is only sharpened by their vast intelligence. This startling transformation is understandable, given the horrific nature of any being willing to take on the Mikskek in their own lairs.

     The strongholds are also the workshops of the Mikskeki artisans, the chapels of their semi-cloistered clergy, and the research labs of their scholarly wizards and sages. Not all Mikskek are wanderers, after all, and it is here where these homebodies live and make their contributions to their people. Lastly, the strongholds also serve as a place of refuge and rest for traveling Mikskek of any clan, and for the select few of other races whom the Mikskek have taken under their, um, wing.

Ecology: The Mikskek are very careful not to impact their environment about their scattered strongholds any more than they must. Their magical excavations leave little debris, and the detritus of their crafts is carefully disposed of (even the smoke from their forges is consumed by magical agents). Unless one is right on top of it, a Mikskeki outpost is almost impossible to spot; indeed, those few outsiders that stumble upon a lair often do so by sheer dumb luck.

     Mikskek can survive on any food that can sustain a human or demi-human, and their stunted sense of taste renders just about anything palatable. In their lairs, conjured food and drink supplement a diet of underground mushrooms and other fungi. As a race, the Mikskek have neither the stature, the skill, nor the temperament for farming and herding except on the most humble scale. Mikskek have highly efficient digestion, and can sustain themselves on relatively little.

Origins and History: The story of the Mikskeki race is told in the Fourth Book of the Astarith. It is a tale of pride and ruin, of penance and redemption.

     The term "Mikskek" is a corruption of the name of an elite "shock troop" of human priests and wizards bound in service to the nascent House of Light. The Order of the Miskellyk ("Avengers" in the sacred tongue of Istari) was a host of great renown; their arcane skill was said to be without peer, and even the greatest of dragons conceded their might.

     But the Order was already treading the road to utter ruin, a road which they themselves laid, cobble by arrogant cobble. So self-confident and self-righteous did the Miskellyk become that they believed themselves to be equal in wisdom to the Powers whom they served. They ceased to listen, first to their master’s advice, then to their commands. At last came the day of reckoning, the day when the Order was lured into a subtle and cunning trap and then decimated by the Vauldraani, their lethal counterparts in service to the House of Darkness. In the end, only fourteen of the Order escaped with their lives, out of a host of over a hundred souls. Their lives—but nothing else.

     To make an example of the Order for all eternity, the House of Light cursed their wayward servants. As their spellcraft was siphoned from their shrunken intellects, the bodies of the survivors were shriveled and twisted into a comical and humiliating form. The gods then withdrew to watch and wait.

     Bereft of the their power and trapped within their laughable bodies, the remnants of the Order eked out a bare existence on the fringes of human society. But as the years passed, the memory and passions of their human lives began to wither, until their former existence was little more than a dream, a dull and uninspiring illusion. This self-transformation of mind and soul eventually led the Miskellyk to see themselves as something new—the beginnings of a new race, a race that deserved at least the chance for life, dignity, and perhaps even happiness. They chose to be what they were, and to make what they were a meaningful and honorable part of the great endeavor known as Minarra. And for that, they would need to make their peace with the gods.

     The Miskellyk offered their allegiance and their repentance on New Year's Eve, then as now the holiest of all nights. In prayers of the most profound sincerity and the deepest humility, the Miskellyk asked for nothing more than to exist as a new people, to be tried and tested no differently than any other race put upon the face of Minarra. The House of Light heard their prayer and relented, for the rightness of their plea could not possibly be denied.

     But though the Miskellyk were returned to the fold, their redemption was to be long and arduous. Many centuries would pass before even the strongest of the Mikskek could wield the power of the most humble of the original Order. No matter…the Mikskek accepted with humble grace whatever power the gods deigned to allow them. Their greatest hopes fulfilled, they began to breed, quickly and often at first. But after a time, their progeny declined in numbers as their lives grew ever longer. Within a millennia, the biological realities of the race took on their current form.

     For millennia, the Mikskek were confined to the shattered continent of Miren. Nearly eleven centuries ago, however, the entire race boarded a vast fleet of ships and crossed the vast expanse of the Othrovel Ocean, to the distant continent of Dass. No one save the Mikskek themselves know why the House of Light sent them on this pilgrimage, and they steadfastly refuse to share the knowledge with others. There is no question that Miren’s loss was Dass’s gain, though the divine creation of the Rats filled much of the void left behind.

     Very recently, three remarkable events have occurred, events that could herald a new and promising age for the race in Miren: the discovery and rescue the time-imprisoned Clan of Kauron, the mysterious return of three other clans from distant Dass, and the reclaiming of Starkeep, the ancient Mikskeki place of power.

     Why this wonder should be occurring now is a matter of intense speculation. There are various theories, most with little to back them, but one somehow stands out: the slow but undeniable rise in the power and numbers of the Vauldraani over the centuries has necessitated the return of their ancient adversaries, and the House of Light made it so.

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