The Ekujae
The jungle-dwelling elves who stayed behind when the world broke, and the shadow they have guarded against ever since.
Come, slavers and cowards! Come in thick numbers! We shall string up your people like pigs in a leopard's larder. Your weapons and charms shall be toys for our children. Like poachers who have flung arrows yet failed to strike the killing blow, you have provoked our wrath — every drop of our blood you shed, we shall take back from you tenfold!
We are the spears that pierce through the darkness, the nightmares of demons, the wrestlers of serpents! Send all of your armies, and we will destroy them. Let your children send armies, and we will destroy them. Let your grandchildren send armies, and we will destroy them. Send the gods who protect you, and we will throw them down!
— Ekujae warning left at a massacred Aspis outpost
Background
The jungle-dwelling elves known as Ekujae are enigmas to most outsiders and bear many different reputations among the cultures that have come into contact with them. To the masters of the Magaambya in the academic city of Nantambu, Ekujae are an ancient and respected civilization of scholars who sometimes venture from their homes to teach students or to bring rare seeds to the university’s libraries. To the scattered tribes of the Mwangi Jungle, Ekujae are mysterious and implacable guardians of the jungles and are viewed with awe and superstition in equal measure. To capitalistic organizations such as the Aspis Consortium, Ekujae are a fearsome foe well known for their furious attacks on Aspis slavers, such as the infamous massacre at Whitebridge Station. Yet to all who know of them, Ekujae are warriors first and foremost, standing ready to fight against an unknown darkness from an ancient time.
Ekujae themselves tend to hold a skeptical view of most foreigners, especially humans. Ekujae lands are rich with gold and other precious treasures, a fact that has inspired generations of fortune seekers to plunder the jungle and give nothing in return. Ekujae’s relationship with non-Mwangi peoples is especially sour, due largely to conflicts with colonialist slavers, including a recent violent conflict with the Aspis Consortium that has in turn motivated Ekujae warriors to destroy any slaver outposts they come upon. Ekujae also guard many places of great power or dormant evil—places they have little desire for reckless adventurers or sinister forces to uncover. While Ekujae firmly believe that individuals cannot be judged by the actions of others, they nonetheless view outsiders with caution and are reluctant to form alliances or share their secrets; mortals, in Ekujae’s experience, tend to repeat the same mistakes over and over, and while specific groups or rulers might be trustworthy, they die quickly by elven standards and are all too often replaced by individuals eager to exploit Ekujae for their own ambition.
For this reason, Ekujae are quick to confront any trespassers who venture into their lands, though it would be an oversimplification to call them xenophobic or isolationists. They are not authoritarian by nature and leave travelers be so long as they do not appear to be a threat. A simple fruit merchant or virtuous explorer has very little to fear from Ekujae; their scouts will likely follow and watch any such visitors, but this is done as much out of compassion as suspicion, as Ekujae make it a habit to ensure their guests are not attacked by animals or harmed by ancient evils. Even those strangers whom Ekujae deem less than welcome are usually offered a chance to peacefully leave the forest, though refusal can quickly provoke the militant elves’ wrath.
History
The history of Ekujae elves diverges from that of other elves on Golarion at the time of Earthfall. While most elves elected to leave for their ancestral realm of Sovyrian in order to survive the disaster, the Ekujae clans instead decided to stay behind despite the coming devastation. Whether this choice was made out of duty, love, stubbornness, or a sense of things to come, no records survive to say—it is only known that when the earth was shattered and the skies went black, Ekujae were there to defeat the “Great Darkness” that arose from the destruction, sparing the remaining life on Golarion from total extinction. Yet even their greatest warriors and mages could not destroy the Great Darkness permanently, and Ekujae now train in preparation should it ever rise again.
Despite the belief of most scholars that the identity of this Great Darkness is lost to time—or that the whole story is simply a fanciful legend told by the elves—Ekujae know the truth of their ancestral foe, though they never call it by its common name. The Great Darkness that rose in the wake of Earthfall was an incarnation of the dragon god Dahak, who had been lured to Golarion by the death and chaos that wracked the world during that terrible time. Had Dahak been allowed to linger, the consequences would have been catastrophic; the dragon god Apsu was sworn to fight against Dahak, and their cataclysmic struggle would inevitably have invited other gods to interfere as well, until the clash of deities finished the job that Earthfall began and destroyed the entirety of the planet. Instead, Ekujae forces managed to defeat Dahak and drive the god’s incarnation into an aiudara, or elf gate, known as the Huntergate. This severed the connections between the aiudara that make up Alseta’s Ring in the instant that Dahak was between one gate and the next. The dragon’s incarnation was trapped in a space between realities, with no target for his unquenchable rage other than himself.
However, this victory came at a devastating cost. To pierce the flesh of a god, the most heroic and virtuous Ekujae elves willingly sacrificed themselves so that their spirits could bolster the strength of the remaining Ekujae warriors. These elven souls burned as bright as hot iron in the spiritual realm, and their determination allowed the surviving Ekujae to cut through Dahak’s scales. Dahak’s golden blood was spilled across the entirety of Ekujae lands, and the elven warriors broke a horn and two fangs from Dahak’s head with enough force to fling them into the sea. The dragon was defeated, though at the terrible cost of countless Ekujae lives, and the taste of victory was like a mouthful of ash.
Ekujae consider this battle to be both their greatest triumph and most crushing defeat. By routing Dahak, the elves accomplished something that even the most arrogant civilizations on Golarion would never dare to attempt—by mortal magic and mortal hands, defenders Ekujae defeated the living aspect of a god. Yet they only wounded and imprisoned the dragon, and the elves’ inability to cleanly finish off their foe is viewed by most Ekujae as a failure. It is thus the sacred duty of all Ekujae to train in preparation for Dahak’s return, both in respect for the courage and sacrifice of their ancestors, and for their own pride as hunters who have injured a beast and are now honor bound to strike the killing blow.
Appearance
Ekujae share a similar appearance to the humans who live in the Mwangi Expanse. They typically have dark brown skin and black hair, as well as the jet-black eyes typical of elves, though individual Ekujae are prone to variation, from dusky skin to densely coiled rose-blond hair. They tend to be more muscular than other elves thanks to their warrior training, though they are still lanky and wiry compared to many humans of a similar profession.
Ekujae traditionally adorn their bodies with patterns of white paint, the meanings of which are complex enough to elude almost all outsiders. Though they are usually simply representations of a specific elf’s family and clan, an Ekujae’s markings might also indicate information about their profession, accomplishments, personal history, or even simply what mood they are in today. Despite this, most Ekujae usually stick to a specific pattern of symbols on their skin, as the paint is meant to represent the most essential aspects of the individual; thus, an Ekujae who frequently changes their symbols is considered by their peers to be flighty. Ekujae almost always dress in green and brown, both because these tones make for practical jungle camouflage and because they consider these to be the ancestral colors of their people. They frequently use wood, leaves, leather, fur, and bone in their clothing, and are well known for favoring bark cloth made by pressing the inner bark of trees into sheets. The elves’ woodwarping magic enhances the quality of these textiles, and the fine bark cloth and intricate wooden jewelry produced by Ekujae can be extremely valuable in the right markets.
Society
Ekujae organize themselves into distinct social groups known as clans, which in turn create their own villages and towns. These clans are so self-sufficient that many outsiders who encounter them assume that they are entirely separate political entities from one another. The Ekujae clans constitute a united nation, however; the clans maintain strong relationships with one another, though these ties may not be easily evident to people with shorter life spans than the elves. While this nation technically has a king or queen who is chosen from the leaders of the clans, that position exists mainly in case a central authority is needed to take charge during a time of emergency, rather than to dictate nationwide laws.
Though an Ekujae’s immediate relatives are of great importance, most Ekujae believe that clan members should be considered as close as family, and a child of one clan member is treated as a child of the whole clan. An Ekujae’s clan also tends to influence their vocation. Though clans happily support their members’ individual aspirations, certain ones are known for specializing in various trades or skilled work, either through geographical advantage or long tradition—a clan near ancient ruins, for example, might be famous for their warriors and protective magic, while those close to the Magaambya in Nantambu typically educate diplomats and mages. Ekujae are not born into their clans, though they always consider the clan of their mother to be family as well; they instead choose to join a clan after they have reached adulthood. Ekujae are expected to remain a part of their chosen clan for the entirety of their lives, meaning that joining or leaving a clan is a very serious matter, though few clans will refuse a request for either. Banishment from a clan is a shame reserved for heinous social crimes that Ekujae feel do not warrant capital punishment, such as child abandonment or reckless behavior that results in the death of another person, and is a punishment only slightly less severe than a death sentence.
Ekujae clans nominate and elect rulers and their advisers democratically, with all adults having a say in the final outcome. In particularly contentious elections, clan members may demand a task from the potential ruler to prove their worth. Once a ruler is accepted, the ruler and the clan jointly choose the ruler’s advisers. In addition to magical, military, and spiritual advisers, Ekujae highly value advisers known as linguists, who serve simultaneously as diplomats, translators, storytellers, and historians. These linguists are almost always half-elves, who, with their shorter life spans, tend to adapt more easily to changing times and situations that require an immediate solution.
Faith
Ekujae consider the elven deity Yuelral to be their nation’s patron, and they believe their role as guardians and scholars pays homage to this goddess of magic. They also worship many of the traditional elven gods: Ketephys, the god of the hunt and the idealized warrior; Findeladlara, the goddess of the sky; Desna, who is portrayed as a wandering moth and storyteller; and Calistria the wasp, whom Ekujae consider to be a sly trickster figure. Ekujae faith is an extremely personal thing, however; they believe deities can offer inborn gifts or fated destinies to chosen individuals. They hardly consider it unusual for an elf to believe that a divine body has tasked that follower to worship the deity and carry out that deity’s agenda, and so worshippers of obscure faiths are not rare among Ekujae clans.
Culture
Ekujae life is a complex web of traditions and customs that both stretches back thousands of years and continues to hold true in the present day-to-day challenges of living in the jungle. Ekujae consider themselves guardians and defenders of their lands, seeing it as their sacred duty to fight against the Great Darkness and any demons, dragons, or other threats that may prey upon their people. They tend to be militant, and Ekujae children are raised with the expectation that they will see violent conflict within their lifetimes. Ekujae are also extremely formal in their dealings, even by elven standards, and they practice many rituals around the swearing of oaths and the forming of bargains.
Ekujae place a high value on art and academia, though their unusual method of keeping records is all but impenetrable to foreign scholars, making it difficult for them to share much of their lore with non-Ekujae. In addition to maintaining strong oral and musical traditions, they also create “record trees”—trees carefully cultivated to grow specific patterns in their trunks and branches, which serve as semi-permanent records of important information and events. This unique system of shape-based writing can also be used to record physical movements and even musical notes. Ekujae learn from a young age how to read and write in this three-dimensional language, and half-elves are particularly adept at translating the shape-speech of their Ekujae forebears or transcribing record trees into other media, such as thin strips of bronze woven into tree-like shapes or a complex, shape-based script for when it is necessary to write in ink.
Ekujae elves believe their bond to the environment to be especially strong, as their ancestors stayed on Golarion through one of its darkest hours and shed their blood to save the planet from ruin. They prefer to build their elegant cities entirely in the canopies of trees, braiding living branches and vines together to form elaborate structures. Ekujae practice a noninvasive form of agriculture by grafting fruit trees onto the trunks of their cities’ largest branches and growing shade-loving crops in the underbrush. Their love of nature extends to the animals that dwell in their lands as well—they often name individual animals they commonly encounter, and it’s not unusual for them to chat about the local elephants and leopards in the same way they might gossip about a neighbor.
The Ekujae Soul
Ekujae have an extremely complex and nuanced understanding of the soul. Every living being is believed to have four spirits, which are inherited or given by different aspects of that individual’s life. The first, which Ekujae refer to as “what your father gave you,” represents the individual’s physical form and perception of its physical form; the second, “what your mother gave you,” is an individual’s heritage and family; the third, “what your heart gave you,” is the individual’s personality and personal taste. The fourth spirit, known as “what your gods gave you,” is the most enigmatic part of an individual’s soul, referring to an intricate tangle of intrinsic gifts and divine destiny that forms a guiding influence on a creature’s life—whether it’s wanted or not.
These spirits have their own names and personalities, and may not necessarily agree with one another; indeed, a clash between two particular spirits is considered to be a common source of internal turmoil. Despite this, Ekujae do not consider these four spirits to be separate entities—they are intrinsically part of the same soul, just as many complex emotions and thoughts are intrinsically part of a single person. For this reason, Ekujae believe that all of a creature’s spirits must be tended to in order for that creature to remain happy, healthy, and moral. When one spirit is consistently neglected, discontent and strife are soon to follow, so introspection and self-care are of utmost importance in Ekujae society.
Jewelry and Keledi
While Ekujae share the bone-deep elven love of artistry, most of their jewelry tends to be understated and crafted from natural materials. An Ekujae scout, for example, has little use for ostentatious ornaments that might catch on jungle plants or glint in a ray of sunlight. In addition, Ekujae have certain taboos and customs regarding different types of accessories. Gems, for example, are worn only by Ekujae who are capable of casting magic, and these gems are always uncut out of respect for the elven goddess Yuelral. Brass is worn only by half-elves, as Ekujae believe that the alloy represents the connection that half-elves share with both the natural world and the world of humans—half-elf merchants often wear exquisitely crafted brass jewelry all over their bodies as a sign of wealth, and almost every Ekujae half-elf is given a homemade brass ornament by their elven parent when they are born.
By far the most taboo metal in Ekujae culture is gold. Ekujae believe the gold beneath their lands to be the cooled breath and blood of Dahak, spilled in his battle with the elves ages ago, and that all gold is cursed by the wrath of the dragon god’s aspect. It is the curse of Dahak that prompts even the kindest of dragons and the noblest of humans to covet gold, and it is the curse of Dahak that ensures blood will always be spilled over the greed that gold inspires. No Ekujae ever willingly wears gold, with a single exception: the keledi, elves who have sworn to sacrifice their lives to fight against Dahak should the Great Darkness ever return. These elves wear ritually purified gold as a sign that they are worthy enough that their souls could cut the very flesh of a god, and to mark them as a living sacrifice to the fight against their ancestral foe. The role of half-elves in Ekujae culture is nuanced and not easily understood by outsiders. Many Ekujae half-elves live in entirely half-elf clans, though not because they are unwanted or rejected by full elves, as some foreigners may assume. While many Ekujae do ritually turn their half-elven offspring over to be raised within half-elf villages, this is done out of a belief that half-elves thrive better among half-elven peers than among elves, who have dramatically different life spans. For the most part, Ekujae half-elves agree with this policy, though some half-elves still feel excluded from elven culture, and advocate for more integration between elves and half-elves. Despite this tradition of segregation, it is hardly unknown for an Ekujae elf to raise a half-elf child in a predominately elven clan, and half-elves are free to choose their clan upon coming of age, just the same as elves.
The Ekujae half-elf clans are valued as bridges between the elves and the other peoples of the Mwangi Expanse. Half-elves are the most common Ekujae emissaries to neighboring city-states for purposes of trade, cultural exchange, or other negotiations. Ekujae tradition strongly dictates that half-elves serve as a ruler’s linguists to ensure that their valuable perspective is heard—especially when making decisions that concern shorter-lived creatures, whom the elves may not necessarily understand.
To bear the title of keledi is both the greatest honor and deepest sorrow in Ekujae society.
The Fight Against the Great Darkness
For all of their love of scholarship and artistry, Ekujae are a people at war, and much of their society functions around this cold fact. Even should the Great Darkness never arise again, the Mwangi Jungle is still plagued by unnatural menaces, and Ekujae lands host shrines to ancient demons and worse. Though these elves take what precautions they can, they know that isolation will not save them from the dangers of their past or their homeland, and so they prepare for inevitable battles. Demons and dragons are the favored prey of Ekujae warrior-hunters, but countless other dangers lurk in the Mwangi Jungle, from ancient undead to forgotten arcana to primordial evils from an unknown time. Each adult Ekujae always carries a silver knife and a cold iron knife on their person in anticipation of battle against demons or devils. Ekujae warriors also often wear a cold iron “soulguard”—a circular armored disk worn around the abdomen—that provides protection from demonic magic.
Ekujae must remain ever vigilant for any sign of dark influences or corruption, as these elves are curiously susceptible to demonic poisons and corruptions, as well as lycanthropy. It is unknown whether this is simply due to an unusual vulnerability in their constitutions or a more mysterious reason, but it remains a constant worry among Ekujae exposed to such dangers. Centuries of dealing with this particular vulnerability have made Ekujae among the foremost scholars of methods to reverse such magical poisons and transformations, and many seek out Ekujae help to save loved ones who have no other recourse. However, few Ekujae cures are pleasant or simple.
Relations
Ekujae are generally suspicious of outsiders, preferring to keep to their own lands and to deal with others only on their own terms. They have strong ties to the Magaambya academy in Nantambu, but their association is too sporadic to be called an alliance, and they deal with most other people on a case-by-case basis. They often send out linguists or other emissaries to local tribes or cities for trade and news, but usually keep them at arms’ length when it comes to the details of Ekujae affairs. The notable exception to this rule is that half-elves from other lands are warmly welcomed by Ekujae clans; Ekujae half-elves strive to provide a sense of belonging that they know can often elude their half-elven kin. Ekujae are also unusual among elves in that they bear little to no enmity toward orcs and half-orcs, with whom they often fight alongside against demonic forces in the Mwangi Jungle. Though Ekujae elves do their best to judge individuals by their actions rather than by cultural assumptions, they are likely to approach any half-orcs they meet from a position of respect.