Myfari Wizard Portrait

(Shitty xat doodle to help develop a fantasy race. Its remarkable how nice it looks as a thumbnail, almost like a 'character select' icon...)

Behold, the wizard of Myfar.
Nestled in the heart of the vast realm of Oold lies the land of Myfar, located between the Mourning Star and the Eyuryale mountain ranges. Protected by treacherous terrain, great enchantment, and unchancy strains of nature, it is a lofty and far away place from the rest of the world. Little is known of the Men of Myfar, other than their murky history. Long ago came they to their land, fleeing ancient serpentine masters, and long have they stayed in what is now the land of Myfar.
From their wide canyon like country they see the peaks of both their twin mountain backs, and so much more. They stand as ever vigilent, ever silent guardians of The Ath (the earth), and in them is much power. As a culture, they revere those animals which crawl upon the ground, the scuttling insect, the writhing worm and the slithering serpent. They welcome all races who wish no harm to them or their property, the brutish Throak lizard men, the savage Illinhuoth orcish people, the dying and desperate Drahel folk, and even the treacherous Sthenos; their former reptilian elder masters are their allies. They take those who’m no one else will, and offer them shelter in exchange for peaceful neighborhood.
They are avoided by the Human kingdoms of Arathin, ignored by the barbarian tribes of Bernor, loathed by the many races of The Nameless lands, welcomed as friends by the Kaburukiri insect empires, and viewed with uncertainty by the desert dwelling people of the Zalcaradun. The Myfarians themselves do not relish contact with other nations and people, so it suits them fine.
As a culture, they are all of them magically skilled. It is thought that they are the greatest of wizards in all the world, and they certainly do not deny this or laugh it off as flattery. They adore glass, and it is one of the few things they contact the outside world to get ahold of; other than knowledge. it would seem that their need for knowledge is met well enough by their own means. They dwell in what may be the most magically influenced place in Oold, excusing the Marsh of Qualms.
Myfarians are dark of skin and black of hair in most cases, resembling certain tribal natives of the drier, less sandy Zalcaradun regions - places from which it is thought they migrated. Suparficially, they are as human as you or I, but some wonder if their minds work on a different scale than ours, as they are often distant and alien in their ways of writing, speech and thought. They dress in airy, long fabrics, glass beads and baubles, and the shells of the enormous insects that share their homelands with them. They like asymmetry, and often use it in their fashion statements. When going to war (a dreadful affair for their foes), they wear mirraculously light shirts of mail, thorax shell breastplates, and the shells of the fearsome Dungeoness Crab, an uncommon pest throughout the lands. They carry staves and shields at once, and like to wear emotionless insect or reptile faced masks.
(this is a concept doodle of the MODERNIZED Myfarian people, and is a D&D druid I want to do at some point. These were the old designs: [link] )
A lot of Morrowind and Ghibli has gone into these guys, and I'm trying my DARNDEST to make them their own thing.