AKA Magic Redwall. As always, mutable in response to suggestions. For instance, I've been considering replacing the capybara with beavers.

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Introduction

Glirodisaea is plane that would not be particularly strange if not for its key players. There are no humans, no elves or other similar, familiar humanoid races. In their stead, rodents and rabbits have risen to dominance, achieving sapience and skill over magic. If this was the result of natural evolution or magical meddling is a riddle for the ages. Whichever the cause, several civilisations of gnawing mammals have risen and fallen, mirrowing in some ways the humanoid civilisations from other planes in some ways.

Environment

There is only a single continent, though numerous inland waterways give the impression that there are several. The climate is almost globally of a stable, temperate sort, but the relatively few storms, droughts and other weather disasters are both unpredictable and very damaging, shaping the landscape immensely each time they happen.

Numerous settlements dot the landscape, but actual kingdoms and nations are rare. Nomadic tendencies are the norm due to the severity of the natural disasters, with only the porcupines and rats forming permanent homes. Even they are unlikely to stay forever on a given area, however.

The Five Races

Across Glirodisaea's history, numerous races of rodents and lagomorphs have risen and fallen, only a few of their relics surviving. Now, five races currently inhabit the plane. They are at large ambivalent towards each other, with no open enemity or alliance being declared beyond the relations between specific populations. Indeed, several settlements have become multi-species hotspots, though for the most part cultural differences still divide the races at large.

Ratfolk

Ratfolk are among the most populous races, though a casual observer may not realise that at first. Most ratfolk live on the Catacombs, massive underground cities usually dug deep on Glirodisaea's driest terrain. With most Catacombs displaying isolationist tendencies, its entirely possible that one may not be aware of their presence long after settling down above one. Many rats have left them for more diverse settlements, however, and they are known for their prowess as merchants.

In spite of their subterranean habits, most rats are not photophobic, and if possible they use inconspicuous holes and mirrors to illuminate their Catacombs with sunlight. They specialise in necromancy, which is of extreme relevance in their cultural and religious beliefs. Ratfolk are ancestor worshippers, calling forth the spirits of their ancestors to power their magic. Their speciality is the creation of the undead, which is done by binding a willing soul to its body. This spell allows them to greatly slow down the corpse's putrefaction, give it addition vigor and even reverse its rigor mortis. All of this allows the ratfolk zombies to act with much greater dexterity, strength and intelligence than the undead of other planes. However, there is a huge downside: if physical contact between a living rat that was "linked to the corpse" at the moment of the zombie's "awakening" (usually the necromancer or the family of the deceased) and the zombie is lost, the corpse will begin to putrify until it becomes nothing more than a skeleton in a matter of minutes. This causes the rat necromancers of Glirodisaea to be much more protective of their zombies than the necromancers of other planes, a few even forming a relationship which would be closer to a knight and squire.

Although it isn't necessary, the most traditional way to link the ratfolk necromancer and the zombie is to join their tails with a golden ring, that represents the pact between both. While some ratfolk have linked themselves to large groups of undead, this often turns against them, as such a group lacks mobility and leaves the necromancer vulnerable to enemy attacks. Besides zombies, rats also call upon the spirits of unbound dead or draw from the souls of the living to power their spells, mostly as protective enchantments.

Once an year ratfolk celebrate the Ancestors' Day, when they summon the spirits of their loved ones to rebound with them in a feast. Rebounding with the spirits of their ancestors is indispensable to the rats, as such a large portion of their magic relies on their summoning. These spirits will answer the caster's call assuming they have received proper offerings, as mandated by custom. These may involve prayers, food or precious treasures. It isn't unheard of rat spirits abandoning their descendant's call if they haven't been respectful and loving, even acting punitively in light of some disrespect like theft from catacomb-rooms.

In accordance to this, the corridors of the Catacombs are adorned - and guarded - by the mummified remains of the dead, dressed in jet black armour and laced with powerful protective enchantments, that animate them in times of need. Because of their emphasis on tradition, rats believe that abandonment, of their loved ones or just things one loves in general, is a horrendous form of blasphemy. Perhaps due to this some are compulsive hoarders.

Every once in a while, however, rats need to evacuate their Catacombs. Sometimes, they might have dug too deeply. Others, it's because the resources that keep their Catacombs might be rare enough to turn a living thriving underground city into a necropolis. Whenever this happens it can be very traumatic - as to be expected from the combined sum of their blasphemies - and for their own sake they need to make sure their ancestors are looked after. To this end, a select few of the living who are joined to the dead undergo a ritual that merges the two individuals into one being, a powerful mana-generated incrnation of rat ideals. This type of creature, an angel or demon on other planes, resembles here a giant bat, a winged bridge between the living colony and dying Catacombs. Once the living colony has has had enough generations to be a proper Catacomb of its own, these giant bats continue on the now fully dead Catacomb acting as eternal guardians of their ancestors.

Some noteworthy rat settlements:

- Girnarbrik: One of the oldest known Catacombs, the site has been populated and evacuated multiple times multiple times across its history, now being a complete necropolis. Currently, it's something of a tourist attraction, rats making religious pilgrimages while other races admire it from a more inquisitive point of view. Bats still tend the dead, tolerant of visitors and even helpful in providing information, but all willing to use violence on the blasphemers. Most of the Catacombs are accessible to the public, but some tunnels are viciously guarded and kept out of reach, growing in number as one descends.

- Nahar: Named after its founding family, Nahar is located beneath Glirodisaea's most vast plains, the Quillgrass. Expanding not so much downwards as sidesways, it encompasses a vast section of the territory, sinkholes and other openings occasionally dotting the landscape. It is located in the vicinity of the Hammerkop, and conflicts between rat and porcupine are frequent, usually to the former's grief. To counter this, Nahar has adopted less isolationist policies than normal for Catacombs, attempting to forge alliances with other settlements. The Skimwave Port is the most notable sponsored ally, to the point of becoming a major political asset for Nahar. Hammerkop fears the level of political control the Catacombs exert on the port, and tensions only continue to rise.

Harefolk

Tall and gracile, the hares have the smallest overall population of the five races. They control several small settlements distributed across Glirodisaea's ragged coastlines and mountain rivers, but for the most part they are nomadic, often travelling aboard capybara ships. Both species share a close relationship, due to their common emphasis on self-perfection. Harefolk are however more passionate and less hollistic, seeing more value in one's emotional needs over considering the greater picture. At best, they rejoice in what common ground they have. At worst, capybarafolk see hares as a liability or even parasites. Countless attrocities comitted by each side occur, most swept under the collective rug.

Hares as a whole specialise in lunar magic. They see the Moon as their patron spirit, as the light that illuminates the darkness, and as such value it more so than the Sun. A lot of harefolk artwork reflects this devotion, depicting the Moon as the nourisher of the mind and as a source of enlightment. Most hare spells revolve around the nature of the Moon: powerful lunar wards and runes protect the hares when they are most vulnerable, while the mastery of the tides allows inspiration in elemental magic, aquatic or otherwise. Most important, and perhaps frightening, is the association of the Moon with the mind, which hares exploit to no end. Many use it to refine their own minds, creating magically induced moments of clarity or passion as they see fit. They may also use it for divinatory purposes, storing or revealing unknown information when awake or asleep, drawing from the mysterious akashic reccords that flow from the Moon. Some harefolk have a talent for perception manipulation, altering the mind to create vivid fantasies. Known as anankemancers, these are some of the simultaneously most feared and sought after individuals on Glirodisaea, capable of trapping their victims on worlds of illusions. Finally, some hares are experts in blood magic, using it to regenerate themselves or, more commonly, to inflict horrific gore on their enemies.

Harefolk philosophy as a whole is driven by the concept of the tabula rasa, that one is a blank slate that can be whatever one wishes to be. Understanding oneself and one's emotional needs is therefore of foremost importance, and while not necessarily disdaining of academic knowledge many feel that an emphasis on personal experience is more valuable. Freedom and individuality are greatly valued by marafolk, and inflicting upon either is the sole consistent moral rule most live by. The violation of one's autonomy is broadly considered at best extremely distasteful by most harefolk, and so mind magic that affects other people is frequently shunned, though hypocrisy and double standards are by no means uncommon. Physical violence, on the other hand, is prone to more mixed opinions: while some hares think harming others is at best distasteful or wrong, just as many see it as normal and righteous to inflict retribution on others. Its not uncommon to find harefolk who are horrid sadists but nonetheless argue passionately against mind magic.

Overall, hares aren't very dogmatic, disregarding conventional religion for free, ever-shifting spirituality. Though the connection to the Moon is nigh universal due to their favoured forms of magic the details vary greatly, from an outright deity to simply a special celestial object. Some believe in an afterlife - often suspected to be linked to the akashic reccords - while others believe in reincarnation or cessation from existence. Magic is usually considered to be special on some degree, as it is regarded with passion and emotion, though just as many see it as a tool.

Because emotion, perfection and merit are such valued harefolk traits the hares are often regarded to be very creative. Many of Glirodisaea's most renowned artists and artisans are harefolk, and many hares do make a living as such across most of the world. Others are crafty merchants, competing fiercely with ratfolk and capybarafolk in that territory.


Squirrelfolk

As expected from an arboreal race, squirrels preffer forests, swamps and other densely vegetated areas, particularly places with thick canopies. They feel safest on a high position, and avoid coming down to the ground if they can. Squirrels live on villages built on tree tops, which are usually temporary sites due to their generally nomadic lifestyle. Habitations are built with both praticality and aesthetics in mind, resulting in firm but elegant tree houses. Phytomancers are especially important in that they can construct homes simply by guiding vegetation to grow organic homes, and for this reason many squirrel clans rely on their mages to build, though many are simply excellent wood workers and crafters. A squirrel settlement is known as a Dray.

Compared to other races squirrelfolk have a high diversity of phenotypes, with various fur colours, ear shapes and pelage. Though some clans may attribute social ranks to different characteristics, most are pragmatic enough to not have true caste systems. A Dray is generally governed by a single chief tribal chief, though often supported by or even simply serving as the puppet ruler for a druid oligarchy. Succession as a tribal chief is often hereditary, with a single bloodline in theory holding the position of power in a squirrel clan. That said, while open challenges of authorithy are considered foolish affairs, subterfuge is considered fair game provided no one with a more legit claim survives, and a ruling family may have to be constantly on the alert for murder attempts.

If not holding the actual power by using the current chief as a puppet figure, squirrelfolk druids still hold immense relevance as the archivers of wisdom and tradition, their council indespensable at all times. They are generally the strongest spell casters within a given clan, and they usually have the final say in either accepting a talented mage into their ranks, or killing them. In some clans the druids deliberately go out of their way to either educate children with latent power or kill them before they pose a threat, though in most they do not take a proative approach. Either way, it isn't unheard off for many squirrelfolk mages to abandon their homes and live as recluses. These stray-mages are some of the most powerful on the plane, hardened by years of avoiding hunts by clans and consorting with darker, primal powers.

Though generally pragmatic and rather pratical, squirrels do place value in their traditions, and have rather complex systems of rituals. Coming of age rites are in particular emphasised upon, and each Dray has its unique identity in this regard. Like the rats, squirrels are compulsive hoarders, taking a possessive streak towards food, treasures and even other individuals, though unlike them it's less due to culturally induced stubborness as it is a preventive measure imposed by their more nomadic, uncertain lifestyle, as well as just sheer greed. They're less likely to value abstract concepts beyond what is directly useful to a given situation. Even their spirituality reflects this viewpoint, seeing nature and its systems at face value rather than play homage to an unproven pantheon. Nonetheless, they are extremely hollistic, and disdain rash, impulsive action without seeing the great picture.

Squirrels are adept at phytomancy, which is almost universally encourage as a rather efficient means of construction, with the added bonus of not necessarily damaging to nature. Phytomancy at its most basic is the control of vegetation and their growth, but it is a very branched out art. Squirrels can animate vegetation into elementals and wood golems for a variety of purposes, though this is a dangerous gambit, as some particularly powerful ones can turn against their masters. A particularly dark application of squirrel phytomancy is the control of corpses through enchanted vines, creating powerful but very unstable zombies, which are quickly cnsumed by the vegetation.

Squirrelfolk understanding of herbology and plant products also has lead to an expertise in potion brewing, and as such not only do squirrels have a suberb supply of remedies and poisons, but also a thriving trade for them with other races. In turn, mastery over potions has lead to an application of sangromantic magic, and through eldritch rituals a squirrelfolk druid can turn one of their kind - or themselves - into a vampire. Squirrel vampires grow massive membranes between their limbs, allowing them to glide, while their incisors grow groves through which they can suck blood and inject venom. Their fur becomes almost invariably white or gray, though they otherwise retain their individual traits. Squirrel vampires are at least technically alive, not undead, and can breed; though their offspring are not vampires, they are said to be inherently powerful.

Notable locations:

- Black Bayou: A vast region of festering wetland forests, the Black Bayou is home to several clans of squirrelfolk, locked in a perpetual struggle for control. Most of the area is sunken beneath black, disease ridden waters, so whoever doesn't have the benefit of a boat or flight travels about in the canopy. Several arboreal predators lurk about in the branches, and the clans take a generally hostile approach to strangers, with imprisonment being the best possible outcome. Nonetheless, some do journey to this inhospitable place in search of the toads that dell on their depths, seeking knowledge and power.

Porcupinefolk

The most powerful and feared race on Glirodisaea, the porcupinefolk are a violent, militaristic culture. Bulky, large - second only to the capybaras in physical size - and possessing sharp quills, they are physically intimidating to most other rodents. They live on large, well fortified citadels, located on Glirodisaea's elevated and dry terrains. If the rats have the deepest of all settlements porcupines have the tallest: their citadels are always built upward, almost resembling small mountains, and very rarely have underground chambers. These fortresses both house the population at large and serve as their forges and millitary forts. Smaller outposts may be found on the vicinity of a central citadel, usually bearing a solely military function.

Life to the average porcupine is mostly that of a soldier. Porcupinefolk culture places a lot of emphasis on a proactive approach, channeling the rodents' strong impulses to fighting, usually for the greater good of the colony. Outright pacifism is at best not an option, and at worst regarded as both unrealistic as an excuse for cowardice; that said, violence without a higher purpose is not regarded on a positive light either. Deference to authorithy is a complex subject in porcupine philosophy: on the one hand, a clear, organised approach is necessary, but on the other an unrighteous leader should not remain in power. The end result is society at once highly valuing a subordinate approach, and at once constantly testing their superiors. A high ranking porcupine can be expected to be challenged multiple times in their lifetime, usually answering them in highly ritualised combat; the challenger's loss is usually not regarded a lot of importance, as it is a civic duty, but the challengee's can be a social death sentence, as it is often seen as dishonourable because they weren't righteous enough to keep their post.

Porcupine societies nonetheless tend to have relatively few social ranks. Between the average porcupine and the local fortress commander there tend to be generally two or three ranks of a military nature. Bureaucracy is considered at best an unnecessary obstruction and at most common the first sign that something is wrong and that the current ruling body needs to be overthrown. Authorithy within a porcupine society is generally marked by meritocracy or broad public favour, and inherent titles rarely survive for long. Most citadels ultimately answer to Houmaunga, though perhaps as a macrocosm of porcupinefolk belief its ultimately authorithy too is constantly challenged.

Porcupinefolk, alongside the rats, are the most fervently dogmatic of Glirodisaea's races. They worship a large pantheon of deities, with the Sun holding the highest position. Considered to be the creator deity and in particular the patron of the porcupinefolk, the Sun is intrinsic to their culture, defining their aesthetic and architectural sensibilities. Most citadels have open spaces, large windows and skylights, maximising the entrance of sunlight while keeping in mind the need for protection from the elements. Sun worshipping also influenced porcupine magic as a whole: most porcupines have specialised in a school known as quillmagic, weaving spells through their quills as if they were the rays of one's Sun. This type of magic is often very violent in nature, allowing porcupines to fire quills against their enemies or to channel violent elemental magic like lightning rods, but it can also enhance other spells, particularly aura magic, most useful for healing or inspiring morale. As a battle-oriented society porcupinefolk have a variety of healing spells, and there is a significant tradition of artifice, weaving spells into weapons and other creations.

Believing themselves to have been created as stewards of peace by the gods, porcupinefolk have forced other races to accept them in a broad role as enforcers. Many settlements have been taken over by porcupine citadels, running them with an iron fist and imposing taxes in order to support this enforcement. Settlements that are not aligned with porcupines are frequently subjected to extensive raids in order to support their own economy, often to the point of surrender or decimation. Due to this, most other races have come to seriously resent the porcupines, seeing them as tyrannical. Several do however do see the benefits of their "stewardship", namely in that they do offer civic security and protection.

Notable porcupine citadels:

- Hammerkop: A massive citadel vaguely shaped like an anvil that is located on the Quillgrass. Several smaller outposts are spread across these plains, answering directly to Hammerkop. Close as it is to the rat Catacombs of Nahar, both settlements compete fiercely for resources, with the porcupines frequently raiding the undercity. Stronger armed than Nahar, Hammerkop sees a potential threat on the Skimwave Port, now an outright ally of the Catacombs. Tensions continue to rise, and rumours have it that calls for help have been sent to other citadels, the possibility of war being on the horizon.

- Houmaunga: The largest of the porcupine citadels, Houmaunga is for all intents and purposes a mountain. Home to the largest army in the entire world, Homaunga thankfully holds atypically peaceful policies, being largely contained to its territories. One of the oldest permanent settlements in modern Glirodisaea, Houmaunga has survived countless catastrophies, and is seen particularly as a symbol of stability, constant challenges on the part of other porcupine citadels nonwithstanding. The surrounding farmlands are supported by volcanic soil, making them particularly rich, and combined with good trade relations with passing capybara ships it has afforded the citadel a particular prestige in regards to its economy.

Capybarafolk

The lakes, seas and other waterways of Glirodisaea are crossed by many ships, ranging from large floating houses to enormous capital ships, crafted from a variety of materials ranging from wood to coral. These ships are owned by the capybaras, the physically largest of all five races. Unwittingly or not, capybaras are Glirodisaea's biggest agents of harmony and unity, their trade routes transferring knowledge and goods fast and efficiently across the globe. As such, they are frequently also the biggest engineers of change.

Of all of Glirodisaea's races, capybaras value knowledge the most, and can boast to be the most well educated on average. Their ships function partly as massive libraries, storing and up-dating knowledge with a rapid efficiency. Individuals are expected to keep detailed journals and share their findings with the community, and ultimately with capybarakin as a whole. Withholding information is taken particularly personally, and most capybaras tend to at least make an effort to be honest, though as usual information will be controlled, either by the individual or ruling body at large.

Like harefolk, capybarafolk greatly value self-discovery and growth, but unlike them they believe strong in predestination. To a capybara, an individual is simply a small cog in a massive machine, a part of one vast system that must be understood to its fullest, in other to not disrupt the greater scheme of things. One must know one's own place in the world, and in this the capybaras are at once extremely humble, dedicating themselves to their own fate, and extremely arrogant, being the only race to have such undestanding of the inner workings of the world.

One of the ways capybaras seek to know their purpose in life is through divination, using the future to follow their fates. It is a highly complex, meditative art; while hares simply look into the akashic reccords for information, capybaras seek events to come directly, guiding themselves along a given path. They understand fate to be a dictated constant, not truly changeable by mundane means, so its acceptance is the only healthy course of action, no matter how painful or hopeless. This in turn gives them a greater appreciation for life, as well as a superior ability to manage their time. Divinatory magic is a practise that requires simultaneously an immense amount of discipline and open-mindedness, and only a few individuals manage to fully master it. Oracles are thus highly valued on capybara society; unlike the oracles of many planes, simply focused on seeing visions, these help their clients - their fellow community members, or other beings - see their own future with a shared mental link.

Capybaras take a particularly hollistic understanding of reality, in theory at least understanding that all life is connected and has a purpose. That said, their ability to achieve an enlightenment that most races don't even bother to want to comprehend does give them a sense of pride in this regard, taiting their views with elitism. A capybara may often justify particularly unsavvoury if not attrocious actions by claiming that they're guiding things in accordance to the higher will of the universe, not manipulating them in accordance to a desired outcome. This in particular is used on their occasional attrocities against other sapient beings. Though very spiritual, capybaras rarely personify natural phenomena beyond a poetic sense, and do not follow a strict religious dogma.

Capybara governing bodies are at once a meritocracy and a matter of inherent right. On the one hand, capybaras understand that individuals that show knowledge and wisdom are best to rule, and they are certainly shown deference to regardless. On the other, their emphasis on fate gives them the understanding that some individuals simply are destined to rule. In the end, they tend to favour the latter when possible, but should the former be exceptionally gifted they will allow their advancement. Monarchy is generally discouraged, as an individual's right to rule does not necessarily imply that their offspring have the same gift, and neither is the rule of the strong. Mutiny is fast to occur whenever capybaras feel that destiny does not favour an individual, and it can be a surprisingly violent affair.

Though less well renowned than hares on their art or porcupines in their industriousness, capybaras nonetheless enjoy a rich tradition of poetry and literature, and their lives aboard ships make construction a valued endeavor. Having control over the global trade networks, capybaras are indespensable when it comes to commerce as a whole, and even though hares and rats compete fierce as merchants on a regional level it is ultimately the capybara posts that have a final say on trading regulations. Many capybaras take their more hollistic approach to life to take a more altruistic approach to other races, sharing knowledge and other resources with other settlements. In turn, virtually no major settlement on Glirodisaea is at any significant conflict with the capybaras, aside from some harefolk and squirrelfolk groups.

Besides divinatory magic, capybarafolk have an expertise on a variety of other magical schools, their sheer access to knowledge allowing them to display the most diverse variety in Glirodisaea. Through their hollistic perspectives many capybarafolk focus on elemental and natural magic, controlling the waters, winds, vegetation, corals and wild beasts to their whims. Like squirrelfolk, some use their magic to craft, creating ships, furniture and other structures from wood, corals, pearls, ice and other natural materials. A proficiency on aether magic and enchantments is also explored, a skill said to have had its origins on the pythons, with some some capybarafolk consult with. They are thus the race with the most access to answers to enemy spells, and most of their ships are laced with protective wards.

Notable locations:

- Bibliotheke: The largest ship and settlement on Glirodisaea, this floating nation-sized palace spans thousands of miles, and rarely approaches shallow waters, let alone dry land. This is the official residence of the Grand-Envoy, the current leader of the capybarafolk, and their extensive court. Always moving across the world's oceans, it constantly sees the entrance and exit of capybara capital ships, boarding in countless tons of resources each day.

- Skimwave Port: Having started as a capybara project several centuries ago, the Skimwave Port is now the world's largest land-locked settlement on Glirodisaea, holding a fully multi-racial population. Located on the inner shores of the Esmerald Sea, it is the nexus of the world's trade routes; as often said "if something exists, it's being sold here". Due to its relative proximity it has a stable political alliance with Nahar, to the point that some feel threatened by the political power that the Catacomb exerts. Tensions rise between them and the porcupine citadel of Hammerkop, though war is yet to be declared.

Other Creatures

Bats

Unlike the naturally breeding bats of most other planes, Glirodisaea's are actually its closest equivalent to angels and demons, being born from manifestations of white and black mana. Most are associated with the rats and their Catacombs, born from the rituals used to fuse the souls of the living and the souls bound to the undead, effectively creating a living manifestation of ratfolk ideals. These are guardians of the ratfolk, protecting both old Catacombs left by the living and still occupied settlements. "Natural", unaligned bats do exist, however, and these may be motivated entirely differently, either in benefit or harm to other races.

Bats have a general mastery of soul magic, to a degree that makes even the most talented ratfolk seem amateurish. Some may display mastery over other forms of magic, such as umbramancy or hieromancy. Bat magic is usually channeled through their voice, each spell a different sound, shout, shriek or even song.

Foxes

Unpredictable tricksters, foxes are cunning creatures. Just as likely to eat a sapient creature - having a particular fondness for hare meat - as to grant unfathomable power and knowlege or play a petty prank, their only alliance is ultimately to their own impulses. They possess a wide range of magic skills, from elemental to aether and chaos spells, and some are known to meddle with emotions, leading to either madness or inspiration on a whim. Some of more more brave or insane hares seek the foxes due to their metamagical skills, helping to control the very nature of magic as a whole. Though they breed naturally, some are known to spawn from the natural disasters that occur in Glirodisaea.

Toads

Toads are ancient and enormous creatures, found deeply within the ancient forests and swamps. They hoard primal knowledge, always at a high personal cost in exchange for it, as well as degrading servitude. Many are infamous for their laziness, and their deals with rodents and other creatures often work as means for them to acquire thralls to do the most menial of tasks. Their most common clients are squirrelfolk stray-mages, which are more often then not desperate enough to strike a bargain with a toad.

Toads are also sought after for their skin secretions, of immesurable use for all sorts of potions. Through them, toads can weave forth some of their most potent magic, from controlling all sorts of beings through pheromones to shape the landscape, contaminating it into wastelands or enriching them with rampant growth.

Hawks

Ravenous yet noble aerial predators, hawks are at once a source of hope in darkest times and death on wings. They fly across Glirodisaea, devouring whom they consider to be wrong-doers, which may range from murderers to simple oath-breakers. Frequently they soar over battlefields, and the moment when they take a side more often determines who has won. Their judgement is known to be usually fickle, and one day's ally against darkness is often tomorrow's receiver of self-righteous wrath. They have a particular enmity towards bats, attacking those they come across, though most leave the Catacombs alone.

Most hawk magic is based on light and fire, using it both to protect and heal as well as to lay down burning devastation. Some are also acquainted with martial magics, and others even display a form of quill magic, using their feather shafts to channel their power.

Pythons

Glirodisaea's pythons are massive, non-venemous snakes found on the plane's deeper waterways. Young pythons are mostly non-sapient creatures driven by their hunger, but as they grow so does their intellect, becoming some of the most intelligent and wise creatures on the plane. Pythons tend to be very cryptic, spending most of their time in the depths, but can be called forth to the surface through a variety of rituals. Sought after their their knowledge and council, pythons are very mysterious creatures of which little is known about, and their minds tend to be very alien to surface-dwelling races. They are best known for their elemental magic, being capable of summoning powerful storms, as well as more subtle arcane workings, being very resilient to auras and enchantments.

Enemy-colored Rodent world? Okay, I can live with that.

I'm not seeing anything here that jumps out as a problem or anything, although I'm also not immediately taken in by the flavor. Many times when I read plane threads, I think to myself, "oh, it would be fun to put (insert character) in (insert plane-specific location) and see what happens." I didn't get that reaction here, which is not to say there's a problem, just that I'm not immediately seeing the narrative potential. Still, non-Nezumi ratfolk are always a good idea in my book, and Porcupinefolk could be fun. I'm pretty neutral to Harefolk and Squirrelfolk, and I couldn't tell a Capybara from a Keystone Kop.

Like you say in your intro, this world is about the races. I suspect you could do a little more to make the world itself pop, but nothing is jumping out at me just now as a suggestion.

Thanks for posting.

I like the races and the concept of the world, but as Raven says, there isn't much tying it to the rest of the Multiverse. This poses a particular problem when most of our planeswalkers are humanoid.

What if there was a powerful enchantment on the plane that temporarily turned planar visitors into animals befitting their temperament? It would be a little silly, but also tremendously fun to write about.

Thank you both for your time.

I was thinking more about something sinister about the plane's backstory - way back when this was concepted, there were also suggestions for extinct races and a broad impact they left. The enchantment idea could work, though I don't think it's something that should immediately happen should someone set their foot on the plane.

I kind of like your historical hook. My instinct is to push it to maybe have the remnants of one of those races still existing in secret, like, below ground, maybe? I know you already have the concept of digging too deep with the Rats, but that might be an interesting twist on it.

Not necessarily underground, though it could help with the Catacomb secrets.