[ WP ] Describe to me an alien race physically , culturally , and the state of affairs on their world .

Alyr ducked into the trench. His uniform was ragged, the bright blue of Creevyn House barely visible through the mud. Two weeks they had spent, stuck in a stalemate with the old enemy, the House of Ferr, nothing but a short strip of no-Quars-land between them. It was inevitable, he thought to himself. His ancestors had fought Ferrians with spear and shield, even before the great industrialisation, when there was still some honour in war. Ever since the machine gun and the war-tractor and those other mechanical horrors had come about, there was no more honour. 
 
 The few remaining members of his Rhyfler platoon slouched next to him in the trench. Ryk was the only one left with a helmet, his eyes barely visible, but his grey snout protruding underneath. He was lean by Quar standards, but his spindly legs and arms still looked almost comical compared to his large gut, accentuated by the peculiar stoop that Quarkind find most comfortable. Gyr and Turyr, the two brothers, were exchanging ammunition for their heavy, bolt-action Rhyfles. 
 
 Before he could finish looking over his troops, Alyr heard the rumble of Creevyn armour. A hulking blue war-tractor passed over their trench, steam billowing from its engines. ‘ Up, Creevyns! ’ shouted Alyr. ‘ The Ferrian bastards have lied and tricked the other houses. Today, we stand alone. You know full well the consequences if we do not have victory today. Over the top, this last time, for Creevyn, for Quarkind! ’ 
 
 Alyr climbed up and laid his eyes on miles of Ferrian trenches. This is it, he thought. The last stand of Creevyn House. 
 
 
 
 ( Based very roughly on [ these guys. ] ( http: //www.zombiesmith.com/pages/quar-art_ ) )
