Origins: Born of Titan Blood

In the ancient days, when the world of Zin was still being shaped by the hands of the divine and the toils of mortals, the land bore witness to a strange and powerful birth. Titan blood spilled onto the earth, seeping into the soil and giving rise to creatures of immense strength and skill—among them were the Cyclopfolk. Unlike their colossal, world-breaking ancestors, these beings stood between man and giant, their forms built for endurance, their hands made for creation. With a single great eye upon their faces, they peered into the molten depths of the world, forging wonders from the raw elements around them.

A Rivalry of the Forge

While the Dwarves carved their place in history as the supreme artisans of arms and armor, the Cyclopfolk toiled in the shadows, crafting works just as grand, if not greater. But the world’s gaze remained fixed on the Dwarven forges, their crafts seen as the pinnacle of smithing. The Cyclopfolk, however, did not wane. Their competitive spirit burned like the flames they wielded, pushing them to greater heights in craftsmanship. To them, surpassing the Dwarves was not a matter of conquest—it was a matter of proving their worth, of making the world recognize the brilliance of their labor.

Masters of Metal and Fire

The blood of Titans gifted the Cyclopfolk with more than just great size and strength. Within them stirred a latent control over fire, allowing them to shape metal with supernatural ease. Their furnaces roared hotter, their hammers struck harder, and their crafts bore a resilience unmatched by mortal hands. While Dwarves relied on technique and tradition, the Cyclopfolk melded raw power with instinct, shaping metal as though it were clay beneath their grasp. Some whisper that their forges never truly die, their embers refusing to fade even in the coldest nights.

Appearance and Traits

Cyclopfolk stand between seven and nine feet tall, their muscular frames built for endurance. Their singular eye is large and luminous, ranging in hues from molten gold to deep ember-red, reflecting the fires of their craft. Their skin is thick and rough, often bearing the marks of their labor—burns, soot, and scars like etchings of their trade. Despite their imposing forms, they move with surprising finesse, every motion precise, every step deliberate.

The Isolation of the One-Eyed Folk

Despite their skill, the Cyclopfolk remain an uncommon sight in the great cities of Zin. Their unnatural appearance unsettles many, and their rivalry with Dwarves has led to centuries of tension. While they do not actively seek conflict, the Cyclopfolk refuse to kneel before the expectations of others. They carve their own paths, build their own homes in the mountains and under the earth, forging creations that could reshape the world—if only the world would dare to use them.

The Cyclopfolk’s Code

To be a Cyclopfolk is to never yield. Their lives are dedicated to mastery, their spirits tempered like the steel they shape. While the world may cast them aside, they remain steadfast, hammering away at destiny itself. One day, they believe, their work will speak louder than the tales of old. And when that day comes, even the Dwarves will be forced to acknowledge their craft.