Dumu Abzu (DOO-moo AHB-zoo)
Mere-person
To encounter a Dumu Abzu is to stand at the blurred threshold between shore and sea, between dream and memory. Their presence carries the hush of deep waters and the salt of myth, as if they were born from the moment a fisherman first sang to the ocean for safe passage. They glide through the Realm with the grace of tides, never fully anchored to land or wave. Their forms shimmer like heat on stone—too vivid to be illusion, too fluid to be still.
Even in stillness, there is movement in them. A flicker of scale beneath the skin, a ripple in the light around their outline. In motion, they are poetry: darting through currents unseen, moving across terrain as if following the rhythm of some submerged tide. When they speak, their voices carry the cadence of waves striking stone—gentle, relentless, echoing with things forgotten. It is said they do not forget. They simply let memories sink until needed again.
Though some dwell near quiet coasts or hidden springs, most pass between realms with the freedom of migratory winds. Their days may begin under moonlight and end beneath coral arches unseen by sunlight. They are stewards of mystery, cartographers of silence. Where others build cities of stone and spire, the Dumu Abzu map the undercurrents of meaning and the ruins beneath what has already been ruined.
Their physicality reflects the tides they come from: powerful, fluid, precise. Muscles tuned to pressure, skin that gleams like the wet hull of a vessel at dusk. Some walk fully among mortals, their heritage marked only by shimmered skin or the scent of brine. Others cannot fully hide their aquatic elegance—webbed hands, glistening irises, or the echo of a song sung in no tongue above the waves.
In origin, they are elder kin to the myths of Atlantis and its endless reflections—creatures who remember the world before it was divided into land and sea. They do not claim divinity, though their age and knowing gaze often speak otherwise. They are not protectors by title, but where the ocean is harmed, they rise. Not in war, but in return.
Legends call them mermaids, sirens, sea spirits. But in truth, the Dumu Abzu are what water dreams of when it tries to remember being flesh.
Aetherkin
Basic Information
Anatomy
Dumu Abzu are morphologically humanoid, yet subtly alien in form. In their aquatic state, legs fuse into a powerful tail adorned with fins and bioluminescent spines. Their lungs are capable of extracting oxygen both from air and water, and their skin can filter salt naturally. In humanoid form, they retain soft hints of their true nature: gill traces along the ribs, webbing between fingers, or a faint translucence at the temples. Their transformation is fluid and painless, like slipping between dreams.
Biological Traits
They are uniquely adapted to dual environments—enduring crushing pressures at depth while navigating the surface world with ease. Their cardiovascular and muscular systems support extended breath-holding and rapid acceleration. They are highly resilient to cold, disease, and toxins found in polluted waters. Regeneration occurs slowly but steadily—minor wounds vanish in hours, deeper injuries in days. Their hearing is acute across great distances, and they are rumored to communicate with whales in the language of currents.
Behaviour
Dumu Abzu tend to be observant, introspective beings, speaking only when the silence has taught them something worth saying. They are guardians by inclination, not obligation—more likely to guide than command. Their humor is dry, their patience long, and their emotional range vast yet veiled. Among strangers, they may seem distant; among kin or trusted companions, they radiate warmth, wisdom, and an almost sacred presence. They rarely forget a kindness. They never forget a betrayal.
Additional Information
Facial characteristics
Their faces evoke the calm of moonlight over tide. High cheekbones, prominent brows, and eyes large enough to hold starlight—or secrets. Eyelids may shimmer with a second, translucent membrane. Their expressions are subtle but deep, shifting like waveforms. Hair, when present, often resembles strands of dark kelp or wet silk, and may move gently even when no breeze stirs. To meet their gaze is to feel a ripple in the surface of your thoughts.
Perception and Sensory Capabilities
The Dumu Abzu experience the world through layered perception. They see in near-total darkness and can track vibrations across miles of water. Echolocation allows them to read complex underwater structures or find lost objects in pitch black. They can sense storms long before they arrive and feel shifts in current like others feel a shiver. Some say they read emotion through water tension alone. Others believe they hear the dreams of fish. Either way—they are listening, always.
Civilization and Culture
Common Myths and Legends
Legends of the Dumu Abzu ripple through countless seafaring cultures. In Sumerian tradition, they echo the Abgal—sage-fish beings who taught civilization to early humanity. In the Mediterranean, they surface as sirens or nereids, luring with song not to devour, but to awaken memory. Aztec myths whisper of Teponaztli who bore the songs of water through time. In coastal Tír na nÓg, they are known as Sea-Walkers—those who came before ships, who watched the land rise from tide. Their stories often speak of guardianship, tragedy, and the price of listening to the sea too closely.
Genetic Ancestor(s)
Scientific Name
Neacha; Measctha; Europaeus dumu abzu
Origin/Ancestry
Believed to be descendants of ancient sea deities or primordial ocean spirits. Their ancestry is rich with mythological narratives from various cultures, depicting their roles as guardians of the sea.
Average Height
5 to 6 feet in human-like form.
Average Weight
120 to 180pounds, with a lean and muscular build adapted for aquatic life.
Average Physique
Dumu Abzu possess strong, sculpted forms built for movement through dense pressure and swift currents. Their musculature is well-defined but not bulky, tuned for power with minimal resistance. Limbs are long and flexible, joints fluid, and core strength exceptional. Their movement on land is quiet and deliberate; in water, they are dazzling—impossibly swift, turning currents to choreography.
Body Tint, Colouring and Marking
Their skin shimmers with tones drawn from the deep: blues that echo trench shadows, greens of kelp forests, and silvers that glint like fish scales. In brighter conditions, their iridescence becomes more apparent—flashing colors as the light shifts. Some display pearlescent striping or bioluminescent freckles, which pulse subtly when they are agitated or moved by strong emotion. These markings may serve as both camouflage and communication among their kind.
