The Rootborn were made, three centuries ago, when their ancestors chose transformation over death.
During the Night of Roots in 452 PR, when the Binding consumed the Gorathi provincial capital of Qlyp Augo, a few hundred survivors emerged from the ruins changed. They had accepted the jungle's terms. The Rootborn are their descendants.
Appearance
The Rootborn no longer resemble the Gorathi humans they descend from. Three centuries of living in Qlyp Augo's drowned ruins and interbreeding only among themselves has produced something new.
Their skin ranges from pale gray-green to deep murky brown, with a faint sheen that suggests scales but isn't quite. Their eyes are large, adapted to the permanent twilight of the ruined towers, and reflect light like a cat's. Their movements are unsettling to outsiders—too fluid, too quiet, as if they've learned to move like water rather than walk like people. They can hold their breath for extraordinary lengths of time and swim through the flooded streets of Qlyp Augo as easily as walking.
Most distinctive are their hands. The fingers are slightly webbed, and the nails have thickened into something between human nails and claws. When a Rootborn touches you, their skin feels cool and faintly damp, even when dry.
The Acceptance
The Rootborn do not speak of what happened during the Night of Roots, but fragments have emerged over centuries of reluctant contact with the other peoples of Lethos.
Their ancestors were given a choice. As the Binding consumed Qlyp Augo—as roots burst through floors and the screaming started—something offered them an alternative. They could join the dead, their souls woven into the jungle forever. Or they could become part of the jungle in a different way. Give up something of themselves, accept something in return, and live.
What they gave up is unclear. The Rootborn have no magic, none at all, neither the darkness attunement of the Darklings nor the nature harmony of the Faeja. They cannot hear the druids' songs or feel the Binding's weave. Perhaps they traded their connection to the spiritual world entirely, becoming purely physical creatures in exchange for survival.
What they accepted is also unclear. They are not undead, not cursed, not possessed. But they are not quite human either. They do not age as other races do; their oldest members are indistinguishable from their youngest adults. They do not dream. They do not cry. And they remember things they shouldn't: fragments of the occupation, details of the Night of Roots, names of ancestors they never met.
Society
The Rootborn number perhaps three hundred, living exclusively in the ruins of Qlyp Augo. They have no formal government—decisions seem to emerge from consensus, communicated through methods the other peoples of Lethos don't understand. Outsiders have never witnessed a Rootborn argument, a Rootborn celebration, or a Rootborn funeral. It's not clear they have any of these things.
They attend the Vigil at Xyrionn when summoned, sending a single representative who votes silently and leaves as soon as the meeting ends. Their votes follow some internal logic—they have opposed proposals that seemed beneficial and supported proposals that seemed dangerous, but explanations are never offered.
Among themselves, the Rootborn are fishers, gardeners, and watchers. They harvest the flooded streets of Qlyp Augo for fish, crabs, and the strange edible fungi that grow on the submerged walls. They tend gardens on the upper floors of the towers, growing plants no one else recognizes. And they watch. Always watching—the waters, the jungle, the ruins themselves.
The Ruins
The Rootborn guard Qlyp Augo, though from what, no one knows.
The towers of the former provincial capital are not safe, even for Lethos. The Binding is strongest here—roots grow from every surface, some bearing the unmistakable shapes of hands and faces. The water between the buildings is deeper than it should be, and things move in it that are not fish. The Rootborn know which paths are safe and which are not. They do not share this knowledge.
Occasionally, the Rootborn emerge from the ruins with warnings: do not approach the eastern towers this season. Something has awakened in the old governor's palace. Stay away from the water during Hollownight. The other villages have learned to heed these warnings without asking questions.
There are theories about what the Rootborn guard. Some say the Gorathi found something beneath Qlyp Augo during the occupation, something that drew the druids' attention to this specific place for the Binding. Others say the three thousand souls consumed during the Night of Roots aren't spread across Lethos at all—that they're concentrated here, bound into something, and the Rootborn exist to make sure it stays bound.
The Rootborn, as always, say nothing.
Relations with Others
The Rootborn are part of Lethos but apart from it.
The Faeja tolerate them with the quiet discomfort reserved for necessary but unsettling neighbors. The Darklings, who share some understanding of being touched by something larger than themselves, are the closest thing the Rootborn have to allies. The druids of Erua watch them with expressions that might be guilt.
The village of Eptos exists specifically because of the Rootborn—established a century ago to serve as a buffer and monitoring post. The people of Eptos are the only non-Rootborn who regularly interact with them, trading goods, relaying messages to the Vigil, and keeping track of any changes in the ruins. It is exhausting, unsettling work, and Eptos has the highest drinking rate in Lethos.
Outsiders who come to Lethos sometimes seek out the Rootborn, believing they hold secrets about the Binding, about the Night of Roots, about whatever lies beneath the ruins. The Rootborn receive these seekers with cold courtesy, provide nothing useful, and wait for them to leave. Those who persist tend to enter the ruins and not emerge.
Player Encounters
Cold Welcome — The Rootborn are not hostile to outsiders, but they are not helpful either. They answer questions with silence or single words. They offer no hospitality. If pressed, they simply walk away, moving through the ruins with unsettling speed.
The Watcher — A Rootborn has begun following the party at a distance, appearing at the edge of firelight, watching from ruined windows. They make no hostile moves, but they are clearly tracking something about the party. If confronted, they say only: "You carry something. It has been noticed."
Unwanted Knowledge — A dying Rootborn, the first anyone has seen in this state, offers the party a fragment of memory—something they shouldn't know, passed down from the Night of Roots itself. The memory is valuable, horrifying, and dangerous to possess.
The Invitation — The Rootborn have requested outsiders, specifically, for a task within the deep ruins. They will not say what or why. This is unprecedented—the Rootborn have never asked for help. The other villages are divided on whether this is opportunity or trap.