Hermadur

The Hermaduri are a race of warrior-men who pride themselves on honour, strength, and martial skills. They stand roughly 2 meters high on average and will often live to be 115 to 130 GS years. They are covered by a thick, shaggy coat of fur that ranges in hue from jet black to brownish-red to even blonde, and this fur grays and pales as a Hermadur grows older. Braiding of Hermadur hair is a common practice, with styles and patterns indicating a variety of things, such as clan and social status. They hail from the icy planet of Heimastaddur, which has become the capital of their empire.

The Hermaduri are arranged into clans - tight-knit family groups that travel together across the tundras and ice flats of Heimastaddur. These clans are highly hierarchical, once being led by a circle of elders who guide the clan, protected by a group of middle-aged males called braves who fight and hunt for the clan, and keeping safe the females who served as breeders for the clan. In these times, however, much of the Hermaduri have given up their past nomadic ways to live in concentrated cities where up to three to four clans may reside, working together to achieve much more. It is difficult to get Hermadur clans to cooperate, however, as clan grudges run deep and old, and the Hermaduri are by principle fiercely independent, preferring to work alone whenever possible.

The Hermaduri were among the last of the Awakened Races to achieve common space travel, finally having enough cities to be able to produce spacecraft by 377 BCF. Even with the introduction of space travel and colonisation, Hermadur clans were - and still are - slow to leave their ancestral homelands. The Hermadur hold tradition and their ancestors in high regard, for good or ill, and to ignore tradition and to disrespect the ancestors (the *Furirrennar*) is a grave offence.

The Hermadur carry many customs in regards to war. They fight honourably and head-on, even against unbeatable odds, for *"sweet it is to join the fight, sweeter still to die in battle; shameful is the fleeing warrior -"* So sing the Hermaduri. The melee weapon is exalted and most honourable. A ranged weapon is not quite as honourable, but necessary at times. After all, the Hermadur are honour-bound, but not suicidal. There are certain atonement rituals that may be undergone when a kill is made by ranged means. Most often, it is drawing one's own blood with a small blade called a *hnif*, to symbolise that blood has still been spilt by a melee weapon.

When a warrior falls in battle, there are particular rituals to follow depending on certain circumstances. If the body is recoverable, the warrior is to have his arms crossed over his chest and his weapon is to be held in his right hand. His eyes must be opened, for even in death he must remain alert. A song, telling of how he fell and preparing the ancestors for his arrival must be sung over his body, and last of all he is to be entombed in the earth, as long as the sun cannot shine upon him. There he may rest.

What with the exposure to other races, the Hermaduri have had to unify themselves to act in the interests of the Hermadur Empire, rather than that of individual clan interests, which has been a slow and arduous process. At last, the clans came together in 380 BCF to create the centralised *Thunga*, the name of the collective clan elders who governed the Hermaduri. The *Thunga* is headed by a *Herthung*, the elder of elders, who decides who talks and when, and makes the final decision when the *Thunga* is divided.

*"How can I board some vessel made by a Thyrfing man to go to some distant planet and live there? I care not to see the cosmos - I see the stars well enough from this valley passed down to me from the Furirrennar." - Ragvad Weolden*