Orim

The serene orim roused themselves as the night fog rolled off the first hills before the dawn. They lay for a time, basking in their first day until the heat of the late afternoon sun finally moved them. They had already noticed details in the world overlooked by the other races, particularly the energies snaking through the hills around them. Although magic had arisen in crude forms in the world before their waking, the orim were the first to draw it forth more openly to work new wonders.

The orim have a keen eye for color, and they taught the other races the art of dyes, pigments, and tattoos. They festoon their hills with elegant gardens and crown them with standing stones channeling magical power, while they live in hollows beneath. The orim often take a long time to explain themselves to other folk, who sometimes find them alternately tedious or haughty. However, the orim strive to act only with deliberation and purpose and understand that stillness and silence grant such action.

The orim have a strong appreciation for pattern and order. Of all the races, they travel the least, using what they need from the hills around them and supplementing it with gifts from visitors. Their day to day life is carefully repetitive. News of works of great beauty are likely to rouse them, and every orim enters a period of wanderlust late in life that may not end until their death.

Orim are a short, compact folk with skin the color of stone. Often patches of flowering moss and lichen grow on them, which they cultivate into tiny gardens. Their hair gleams like crystal, and they delight in adorning their bodies with brightly colored, mineral pigments.