Physical Descriptions

Complexion - White almost glowing

Height - 6 to 8 feet tall

Longevity - 150 years

Eyes - Most have Yellow

Hair - Blond, White, Black, Red

Other - Top pointed ears. 

Culture

Male dominated

Sexist, Racist, Superior Minded

NonChanging, Resentful of the Angeli

 

Political View

                     They called it a curse when an Earthling god cast upon us his will. They loathe the very name of the rift maker that made it possible. To the fulgo race Nathon Bealson is an iconic representation for potential unattained. A glimpse through the rift revealed all that we can possess; if we but have the tenacity to claim it.

                What they’ve named a curse we consider a refinement of the very definition of a Superian. Our basic nature quelled leaving only progression in our future. The past holds relevance to us only for its knowledge of what must be done to reopen the portal.

                There is but one scroll in fulgo hand that has survived since the time of our transformation, and upon it is written these words, ‘To rise above one must first obtain control. To gain control one must first harvest knowledge as sustenance. For through knowledge comes power, and with it the sovereignty meant for the true Superian race’.

                The fera fled in feral confusion, as the nox flooded into the swamps. The mortalis hid from their own misleading image. While we strategically integrated ourselves into their lives to better manipulate the outcome of what would follow.

                 The mortalis deceive themselves in believing they are allowed to rummage amongst the ruins of what was, ungoverned. We know the path that lies ahead is long and treacherously laid with obstacles from those that have been discounted from among our number. We use the mortalis’ as harvesters of the knowledge we seek; knowing they lack the forbearance to properly wield its power.  They look to the past for deliverance when salvation lies beyond a rift.

                The nox strive for a perfection they cannot achieve; for they are not fulgo, and their erroneous endeavor has become their greatest failing. Emotion and logic cannot co-exist if the perfection of the mind is sought. Still, the skill of the nox is renowned, and we allow their training to continue. For the day will come when we reach the end of the path; we will see our destination, and they will lead the charge against the Earthling gods. Their battle prows will be our victory. They will become our people and our protectors as we graft the Earthlings into a new world order over which we rule.

                There will be no place on Earth for the emotion ruled mortalis. Their impetus actions would endanger the controlled environment that will be required to bring the Earthlings to heel. We would leave behind the image of what Superians’ once were for the image of what they have become.

                We will leave behind the fera as well; poor pathetic creatures that they are, good for little more than strength of arm at best, and at worst deserving of a merciful kill. We do not fault them for going feral, but nor do we turn a blind eye to the danger they pose. If a fera nation were ever to rise the rules of engagement would change, and the carefully laid foundation that the fulgo have built would crumble; leaving Superi for the taking.

                The hills of sorrow are littered with the bones of rift makers, and of those that could be tied to their lineage in hopes of eradicating the ability from our midst. They were woefully successful.  There is but one choice left to us, and if the method we use to procure our destiny were discovered too soon, all of Superi would turn against us; including more than a few of our own kind. It is a risk we gladly for the recompense will be nirvana.