Overview
Selkies are the seal-folk of the cold coast. A stolen skin is a stolen life, and they consider the shore a promise the sea keeps for them.
Habitat
Selkies live in Selkie Shore, a cold coast where the skin is the only honest conversation. They need three things: a water cold enough to keep the seal honest, a shore wide enough to hold the skin, and a human who is worth the leave. They are settled in shores around the cold coasts, with skin-lines across the mapped current; a selkie who has not left in a season is called "the one who forgot the shore."
Appearance
The selkie silhouette is the broad, low, human-shaped form — heavy through the shoulder and hip, with the head sitting a little too low on the body, like a word that is waiting for the sea. Males stand 1.52 m to 1.83 m on land, broad and slow, with a thick grey-brown hide and a low, barked voice; they are the wall, the first pull, and the ones who guard the shore. Females stand 1.52 m to 1.83 m, sleeker and quicker, with a thinner hide and a longer memory; they are the ones who choose to leave, and the ones who never come back, and the ones whose nod is the shore. The base hide is a thick, wet grey-brown, the color of old seal-hide left in a shaded hollow, with a faint pattern of deeper, sea-brown patches along the shoulder and a clean, deliberate bone-white at the palm and foot that is the selkie line's most persistent claim. The eyes are a pale, washed-out sea-white, large for the head, with a slow, deliberate blink and a depth that makes them look like they are reading the shore — and in most cases, they are, and the reading is the point. The head is the mark: a long, narrow skull with a pair of true, pointed ears set high on the head in the same grey-brown as the hide, and a short crest of fine, soft fur growing in patches along the crown, which is the selkie line's most persistent claim. The skin is the mark — the seal-skin, always clean, and always pointed at something, the selkie line's most persistent claim. Males carry the line in the shoulder and the hide; females in the skin and the memory. Elders are marked by a hide gone a deep, dull sea-slate and a crest gone full silver — an old selkie walks slower and holds the leave longer. Everyday wear: a wrap of stitched seal-hide at the waist, a single bone bead at the throat, and no armor, because the hide is the armor and the shore is the home.
Behavior
Disposition: clannish, shy, territorial, honor-bound. In peace, selkies are watchful, deliberate, and absolutely certain of the shore — they have the seal, and they let the land know it. In war they fight as the skin fights: the wall of the shore — the selkie line does not fight on the land; it fights as the shore fights, with the wall, the pull, and the patient, precise holding of the leave third. Strangers on the land are either a trade or a mistake, and the mistake is the one the shore remembers. The social unit is the shore, 20–60 strong, around the cold coasts — no shore follows a guard, it follows the skin whose memory is truest. Two signature quirks: a selkie who is being lied to will not call it out — they will simply grow a skin in the sea and wait, because the growing is the point. And they keep the skin for a lifetime: a skin the shore has grown is a debt, and the debt is paid in leave.
Warfare & Markings
Tactics: the wall of the shore — the selkie line does not fight on the land; it fights as the shore fights, with the wall, the pull, and the long, deliberate patience of the one who has already grown the skin. Armor: none, by choice — the wet hide is the armor, and a selkie who wears metal has already decided the shore is not enough. Weapons: the short bone-blade, the skin that is not a weapon but is used like one, and the current that is not a weapon but is used like one. War markings: the Skin-Notch, a deliberate chip in the left claw for every trade kept, worn as a record of the long shore; the Seal-Knot, a single knot in the tail-braid for every shore oath kept, in sea-brown; and the Leave-Brand, a small, deliberate mark on the inner wrist — the first skin the wearer ever grew, worn as a mark of the beginning. Post-battle: the dead are carried to the shore, their names spoken over the sea, and their skins laid across the threshold — a selkie buried without their skin is buried as a land.
Magic Alignment
Primary domain: enchantment — selkie magic is the will, the skin, the patient, precise shaping of the shore across the cold coast. Secondaries: illusion and wild. Named inborns: Shore-Sense (a selkie can feel the sea's mood a day before it turns, and the feeling is not a choice), Sea-Sight (a selkie sees in the dark the way a human sees in the light, and the seeing is not a choice), Skin-Carry (a selkie's skin carries the shore's memory across the seal, and the carrying is not a choice). Signature power: the Leave Word — a selkie can speak a word in the shore tongue and let it land on a skin, and the skin will keep the word until the leave is done. Limitation: selkie magic is spent on the shore; a selkie who has spent their leave word must sit in the dry dark for one day, and the day is the worst one of the shore.
Religion
Selkies keep Lysara, the Sweet Poison as their primary god — the enchantment, the will, the promise that is the shore's own law. The shore is Lysara's garden, and the selkie is the garden's skin. Priestly class: the Skin-Keeper, who keeps the shore-temple and speaks the trade at every rite. Heresy is not blasphemy — it is a word broken in the shore, and there is no rite for that one; the shore simply stops growing the skin with the breaker.
Society
Shores of 20–60, led by the Skin-Keeper, rank decided by the skin — whose memory is truest.
Home
They live in Selkie Shore, a cold coast where the skin is the only honest conversation.
Relations
The "the skin is the only honest conversation" faction — shore neighbors whose skin is a price, and the ones whose nod is the leave. The Merfolk of the coral thrones are the kin the shore keeps at a distance — the merfolk keeps the throne and the selkie keeps the skin, and the two have learned that a throne that is not left is a throne that is not a conversation, and the not-leaving is the whole of the peace. The Kelpies of the deep water are the neighbors the shore tests most often — the kelpie keeps the water and the selkie keeps the shore, and the kelpie who has been left is the kelpie the skin has already decided is a find, and the deciding is the whole of the law. The Serpent Folk of the shallows are the small kin the shore tolerates — the serpent keeps the shallows and the selkie keeps the shore, and the two have learned that a shallows that is not left is a shallows that is not a skin, and the not-leaving is the whole of the distance. The Mire-Bear of the bog is the neighbor the skin does not fight — the bear keeps the wet and the selkie keeps the leave, and the two have learned that a leave that is not kept is a leave that is not a conversation, and the not-keeping is the whole of the law. Above, the ground-folk of The Forgotten are the ones the shore tests most often, and the testing is the whole of the bond, because the forgotten are the ones the shore keeps the skin for, and the keeping is the whole of the promise. Uaellaen keeps a page of the shore in the wiki — the skin, the leave, the nod that is the find — and the keeping is the whole of the record, because the camp has learned that a selkie who has been written about is a selkie who has been left with, and the leaving-with is the whole of the welcome.
In the Story
In the current story, the selkies are the skin on the shore — the leave Uaellaen writes about when the conversation is the law. The Forgotten keep their distance at the shore line, and the distance has held for two seasons. This season a skin came up from the shore that is not in the record — a skin the Skin-Keeper does not remember, and the not-remembering is the whole of the warning, because the shore keeps its skin, and the skin has started to leave. The leaving is the hand the camp has not been shown.
You stand on our shore and you make a sound. Good. Now we know where you are, and you have made our skin's choice for us. The price is a skin. You have one to give, or you are already a find. — Skin-Keeper Vessa the Grey