A dying breed, now mostly found on the Vrendi plains, barbarians are the wild warriors that depend on their instincts for survival. Known at times to default to their feral state in the midst of battle, the bloodlust gives them near godlike strength and endurance. Mayhem is the byword of a barbarian enraged. Their simple minds aside, they make stalwart companions.
Individuals that have found balance with the natural world around them gain the unique ability to call Matre to their aid. Be it storms of destruction or great beasts, the mother will always protect her children. While usually bound to a grove, some druids roam Corrin, rooting out aberrations and the unnatural. City dwellers tend to dislike this small group of treehuggers, and not surprisingly, the sentiments are returned.
While some warriors are motivated by coin or religion, there are those that answer to another call – the hunt. Creatures of all sorts populate Corrin, both in and below it, creatures worthy of skill and cunning. These are the quarry of the waywatchers, who hunt them down with both sword and bow. While these few would not bother with naming themselves, the people of the many fiefs call them so since their work keeps the various paths that crawl around the Empire safe.
As the old gods sleep, their clergy continue to spread their word. Where honour and a good death culminates this martial religion… Trained in various prays that channel the infinite powers of Odin, Thor and the others. Young battlepriests are constantly sent out to find battles, so that they may bring honour to their patrons. That, or die a good death.
Apart from the Battlepriests, other clerics also travel the Empire, followers of heathen gods and other denizens of darker planes.
A job once looked at with contempt; mercenaries are now highly sort after with the various wars recently sparked around the Empire. So much so, martial academies have been sprouting all over the place, each with their own style and doctrine. Marked by their copper necklaces, they find solace in a heavy purse.
With the old gods silent, the elderpriests of Dyvet came together and formed a monastic order of knights to serve as defenders of the faith. Commanded to root out evil where they see it, they accomplish their tasks with such fervour seen in few. Loved in most of the more dedicated fiefs, they usually find an unfavourable welcome in those that chose to remain heathen.
Collectively called mages, along with seekers, augurs depend on their natural ability to master magic. While this allows them a much smaller repertoire of spells, they are able to summon those few they know a number of times more then a seeker could. That said, all the time they aren’t spending their noses in books, they have picked up a few martial skills, making them more able to protect themselves in a brawl, should the situation call for it.
Also known as mages, along with their oft lazy cousins, augurs, seekers gain their magic through knowledge. Delving into ancient tomes and books, they have built for themselves a fearsome collection of spells at their disposal. Sadly, lacking the natural talent of an augur they find themselves not as able to summon as many spells an augur would. They do, however, gain access to more powerful spells far earlier on.
Completely apart yet intricately woven in society, daggers stalk the many cities of Corrin and its fiefs. Living by both their skill and their blade, these men and women survive by the urban code. Wit and speed being their only ally, they travel the Empire seeking fortune, by whatever means they deem fair.
In the larger cities, daggers come together to form great guilds where information and assassination is bought and sold. Their markings are left to be found by those with a keen eye.
Warrior-poets, the skalds of Corrin roam the great fiefs accruing songs and lore as they hone their skills. A jack of all trades, they are equal part fighter, mage and rogue. They are also armed with the ability to influence events with their performances, be it poetry, song or comedy. While welcomed in most fiefs, they are ruthlessly hunted down and burnt in North Richese, their sort hated by the aristocracy there.