Orc

Orcs are generally bigger than, well, everyone. They're taller than the tallest elves, more muscular than the most cock-diesel of human action heroes. They've got short tusks jutting up from their jaw and over their lips, and are up to fight or fuck anyone or thing that gives them an excuse to do so—a habit likely responsible for their generally shorter lifespans. But they're not monsters.

Oh, they were hunted as monsters; back in the old days, when the elves ran everything, the Church of Thiese would pay 500 gold for each orc head an adventurer would bring them. The church saw them as snarling, grotesque heathens whose existence was a sin against The Patron, and thus needed to be wiped out. (Of course, once the orc tribes began to defend themselves from these unprompted attacks, that just proved the Church's point.) But it's a mistake to assume their love of wanton combat and sex is the product of uncultured minds; traditionally, wanton combat and sex is how orcs got to know each other. They had a limited vocabulary and were never allowed to understand peace because at any moment some hotshot adventurer could wander into their territory, hoping to build a violent legend for himself. Orcs relished fighting for their lives, or their pleasures, because that's how they showed people who they were.

Of course, that was all back then. There are still plenty of nomadic orcs around that carry those traditions forward, though not on Novera. Most settled the Southern Continent during the Thiessan Exodus; it remains the unofficial Orc homeland. Others settled the Bright Islands, warring to a draw with the native merfolk (they had earned each other's respect). On the other hand, the orcs that made it to Novera slowly adapted to the more civilized ways of the races around them, becoming known as domestic orcs. Domestics still have that deep-seated urge to fight and fuck, but they've found more productive outlets for those impulses—pro wrestling is a big one.