Lathal
The base stock, kept unmixed and bred for size by the wardens themselves across eight thousand years, and the oldest thing here rather than the newest. The species epithet was taken from these, which is why the strain and the species carry the same word, and the other seven strains are what happened when the stock met a climate.
They are the wardens of the island prison and the great majority of them have never left it. A Lathal is bred, born, Weighed, trained and buried inside one complex.
Body
Seven feet, and a few go past it. Maned in the males, heavy in the shoulder to the point of stooping, slow on the flat and terrible in a corridor. The base hand, the base claw, the base scarring across the palms, and no adaptation to anything, because nothing was ever asked of this stock but size.
Country
The island prison: one ancient massive complex, isolated from the outside world, where people are sent to be broken and the culture is never to disobey the lions. The island's breeding is arranged by the Keyholders with the pedigrees kept in iron books; it is the only place in the world where a Lathonian's mate is chosen for it, and no Lathal has ever been recorded objecting.
Faith
They are the strictest readers of the Kept Law and the most literal. To a Lathal the island is the hold, the hold is the world in miniature, the keys are actual keys, and putting one down is the only thing that can damn you. They are courteous, unhurried, entirely without cruelty in the ordinary sense and completely immovable, and every account of the island by somebody who got off it says the same thing: the lions were polite.
Lore
Summary
Extended Lore
Still unwritten in the record for this entry.
- Where the island lies, and who still ships prisoners to it
- What is in the iron books besides pedigrees
- What happens to a Lathal who leaves the island and wants to come back