Vulkarisu

• Put great emphasis on the power of language and words.
• Have trouble with boundaries, both between individuals and between concepts.
• Have an overwhelming desire to learn about new things and then lose interest just as quickly.

• Mistake you for a big squox.
• Think you're very trustworthy when you make an oath.
• Assume you can communicate with anything without any effort.

Vulkarisu look like squoxes, an animal resembling a cross between a squirrel and a fox, but they are roughly twice as large as the tiny animal and usually walk on two legs. Their fur colors range from red-orange to brown or tan, often with white fur on their torso. Their fluffy coats tend to get thicker during winter months, and those from colder climates can grow winter coats. Coloring one's coat with dyes or holoskins is common, and while rare it's not unheard of for vulkarisu from families long sworn to certain deities to be born with fur spots that resemble religious symbols.

Some vulkarisu have multiple tails. Usually, these additional tails grow over time, often sprouting overnight following a major life event. The rare vulkarisu born with two tails are assumed to have a natural talent for magic—a trait that often becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, as dual-tailed children are frequently scouted by spellcasters looking for promising students. The fact that the most powerful vulkarisu spellcasters in history have up to nine of these wonderfully bushy tails supports the theory that the additional appendages are at least a sign, if not a repository, of magic power.

Vulkarisu on Castrovel tend to live in communal burrows under the largest tree in each forest. There, they raise their young and shelter from the elements. Adults use a combination of arboreal expertise and primal magic to grow and weave living bulb-shaped shelters high in the branches of their community's tree where they operate their public- facing businesses and enjoy the sunshine. They adopt a similar lifestyle in Jatembe Park on Absalom Station, and in other distant worlds with similarly dense forests and jungles.

Omnivorous hunter-gatherers, vulkarisu have long supplemented their diets with food grown or traded with cultures from across the Pact Worlds and the broader Universe, with their own traditional cuisine of fermented meats and berries wrapped in leaves a specific delicacy in Castrovelian metropolises. In general, vulkarisu are adventurous eaters, always willing to experiment and try new foods.

Many vulkarisu have trouble understanding boundaries, both physically and philosophically. Without exposure to the philosophies of other cultures, they often fail to understand the distinction between civilization and the wilderness, between technology and magic, between personal and communal possessions and resources, or even between family and friends. Most vulkarisu learn the technical definitions well enough to understand the parlance, but many often spend some time debating themselves verbally while pondering the distinctions, often annoying those who might have been asking them a basic question.

Cosmopolitan vulkarisu teach their children to respect the boundaries of other species, but once they form an emotional bond, positive or negative, they're often compelled to engage in haptic communication using their hands, cheeks, and tails. This form of nonverbal communication is a critical component of the Vulkari language, a conversational and non-lexical pidgin of countless other languages. This ever-evolving language can be understood natively by any vulkarisu regardless of which traditions they've integrated into this expansive vocabulary via the use of nonverbal and tonal cues that require two free hands and at least one tail to adequately express.

Vulkarisu have one of the most diverse assortments of names in the galaxy, as even families who have never left Castrovel enjoy integrating alien names and innovating completely new words when naming their children, even if the naming convention doesn't make sense (like using a number after someone's name for no reason). It's not uncommon for vulkarisu to pick a new chosen name when they move, especially if their new community finds their name challenging to pronounce or say without giggling due to an unfortunate linguistic coincidence.

Traditional vulkarisu belief doesn't put language on a pedestal, so much as it believes in a monistic belief that everything is a part of an all-encompassing narrative. Creation is not the divine song of some demiurge, but rather a pervasive script that exists beyond the will of any singular entity. As it encompasses all things, the narrative itself cannot be isolated or controlled, as any attempts to modify the story would simply be continuing down its natural progression. To have free will is to be able to understand and appreciate your role in creation's grand narrative, but what free will means is often why this tradition is better categorized as a thought experiment than a legitimate metaphysical stance.

Vulkarisu who want to understand the inner workings of this narrative tend to wind up as adherents of Eloritu and often dedicate themselves to understanding arcane or occult magic, while those who merely appreciate the story have found kinship with the church of Cavrabon or Talavet. Vulkarisu who spend a lot of time traveling are exposed to a vast number of languages. Most revel in this linguistic diversity, focusing on the broader patterns of language rather than delving deep into the meaning of a few. These travelers often worship Desna, Weydan, or Triune. Others believe art is the highest form of communication and have begun to worship Zon-Shelyn.

Vulkarisu believe that affirming an oath in the Vulkari language binds those words to their soul, and breaking that commitment causes the oathbreaker to irrevocably lose part of themselves in a way that demands atonement. Bonds of friendship, marriage, or even factional allegiance are never taken lightly by a vulkarisu. Likewise, vulkarisu make exceptionally devout adherents if they do find themselves called to a religion. The most common deity they serve is Daikitsu, the patron goddess of foxes who they believe gifted them a small portion of her truespeech in the form of Vulkari. Much like the legends of their ancestral patron, they believe the gift of language is important both as a tool and a weapon, and while a breaking an oath is a grave taboo, even a forthright vulkarisu will think nothing of twisting a contract with clever language to defend themselves—or even to take advantage of an adversary.

A distressing number of vulkarisu are bound to the fiendish patron Shivaska, the demon lord of unsatisfied desires and binding debt. It's said that one of her servants, a squox-like herald named Skew, bound the souls of a prominent vulkarisu family in a forgotten contract during the Gap. A dozen generations since, the family has spread to countless worlds and numbers in the thousands.

Popular Edicts embrace the whole rather than the sum of its parts, protect those you've bonded with, respect the words of others
Popular Anathema break an oath, betray your partner, censor or otherwise prevent communication

3een (“Threen”), Axlyë, –ly (“Dashly”), Gribbers, Jenpuh, Kinpopo, Lingua, Nin2, Pikamika, Skew, Tchlik XII, Vilawila, Zonnix

6

Small

climb 15 feet

Dexterity, Charisma, Free

Strength

One regional language of your choice.
Additional languages equal to your Intelligence modifier (if it's positive). Choose from any common or uncommon language.

You can see in dim light as though it were bright light, and you ignore the concealed condition due to dim light.

You instinctively flex your body midair to ensure you always land on your feet. When you fall, you take only half the normal damage and don't land prone.