The Dvargir are uber dwarfs. Dwarfs who have through countless generations pursued the obsession of work to the point they are now completely consumed by the notion. They build and work because they must, it's in their DNA. Their singular devotion to work has turned the race into a system of logic gates inside of a machine of meat and bone. In Spelljammer they will have ascended to the surface of their planet and have achieved interplanetary travel. This is what they would do:
- Create a full survey of their planet. Take an accounting of estimates of metal deposits and other useful resources.
- Build a fleet of craft designed to assist with logistical and industrial utilities. A fleet of factories and workshops.
- They begin to dismantle the planet. Crack it open to the core and access the metal inside.
- Using these resources they expand their fleet capacity and begin to survey, audit, and dismantle every celestial body in the solar system excluding the star.
- They begin work on the grand project. A great runic ringworld that encompasses the sun on the solar plane.
- This project will take 1000s maybe millions of generations. The completed parts of the ringworld are abandoned by the Dvargir as they move onto the next stage of construction.
- Inhabitants from other worlds and beyond settle here. Kingdoms, even empires rise and fall. It has become the de facto center for universal trade and diplomacy.
- The Dvargir work on still.
Substratals
When the Dvargir cracked open the many worlds of the solar system they broke "The Real World". This was nothing short of apocalyptic for the Substratals and their civilization almost perished. A handful of groups kept the candle of their culture alight, but the loss of their home against an uncaring foe has changed them. They waged a war of attrition against the Dvargir to little effect, this has left the survivors cynical and battle-hardened.
Due to their incredible intellect and nigh on invulnerability to most mundane weapons substratals quickly rise to the top echelons of whichever society they find themselves within. Many worlds are ruled effectively by them (sometimes even benevolently). Substratals are prized advisors, generals, and admirals.
Deep Janeen
No deep Janeen freeport palace is alike. Each is more decadent, more bizarre, and wonderous than all the others in its own way.
Each Deep Janeen has built their own freeport in the middle of wildspace. Each freeport is spectacular to behold and is built to the very exacting tastes of that Deep Janeen. In some places the Deep Janeen will gleefully mix with the visitors to their port, in others, they will hide away in the gloom of their maze living vicariously off the whispers of the activity outside.
The freeport itself is a large floating structure in wildspace. The Deep Janeen set aside large areas of their maze palace to act as a commercial sector. This is a place where most budding entrepreneurs face little to no bureaucratic barriers to establishing a business.
They do however impose a tax, rarely ever in the form of gold. Each tax is unique at the Deep Janeen that sets it. Failure to pay this tax will see quick eviction for existing commercial operations. A wise trader will learn the quirks of each Deep Janeen ensuring the businesses of these freeports are well stocked with the oddities that their landlord demands.
Oh, one last thing. Before everyone who stays at a freeport MUST fill out the visitor's survey upon leaving. Refusing to do so will lead to instant imprisonment, or worse.
The Aelf-Adal
The Aelf-Adal never had the need to bleed into the real world to wage war on the dreamers here. They raid and pillage as they please knowing that no one can follow them to their dread realm. For the Aelf-Adal live beyond the event horizon of black holes.
These are terrible places where time shifts and nightmares reign.
Only the most foolhardy would consider travel past these portals to their home plane.
No known spelljammer captain has passed beyond the event horizon and returned. Many suspect that some enchantment or technology in the Aelf-Adal's own craft grants them immunity to whatever destruction that would otherwise befall any crew that crosses the threshold.
Those who take their awful yet elegant craft as a prize find them wholly uncoperative. Not unworkable, but uncooperative, the craft resists the helmsman's demands. Furthermore, those who try to interface with the Aelf-Adal's crafts find their dreams haunted by fleet-footed beings. Over time their sanity will ebb and reality and dreamspace will phase into one another.
These loathsome people thrive in wildspace. Gordonia their capital, is a cold and barren rogue planet that is hidden in the depths of a vast nebular, no outsiders know the location. No outsider has ever seen their homeworld, well not those who are not condemned to permanent slavery at any rate.
The knotsmen are feared slavers. They are also excellent mercenaries who show absolutely zero mercy in battle. They prefer as always to attack at range, they come onto the field of battle heavily armored carrying shot and pike.
They still relentlessly hunt down their escaped young men. No one has seen their women, for their civilization is still the height of cruelest misogyny.
Their craft are known as needle-ships, which are long and regal in design. They travel at speeds that almost no other race can match, which gives their armada a considerable advantage in the theater of war.
They are still excellent surgeons and most of the major ports will have a medical clinic run by a knotsman. They often offer free services, though they nearly always demand a favor in return. Most kingdoms and empires have a knotsman physician at hand, though no one trusts them.
The knotsmen are a superpower in the waiting.
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