Kenku are highwaymen and nomads, while Aarokocra travel, Kenku wander, while Aarokocra return to their home, the Kenku have no home to return to. They roam the long stretches of roads between settlements, only venturing in for a day or two to buy and sell the goods they need. Pilgrims by nature, Kenku rarely worship Gods, but those that do most often place their faith in a mysterious God know to them only as “The Faer.” Kenku are scavengers in every sense of the word, they are natural adventurers and scour ancient ruins and dark caves in search of magical artifacts they can sell, or mundane objects they can trick unknowing travelers into buying, both of which have picked up since the resurgence of magic.
Kenku tell stories of long ago when they were held in the esteem of Eimyrja, a God of Sunrise and Controlled Fires such as bonfires, campfires, and cooking fires. Eimyrja was a Herald who had tamed the Phoenixes, using their divine energy to create the Kenku. Because of this link to the Phoenixes, the Kenku were once vibrant shades of red, orange, and yellow, whose feathers seemed to dance like flickering flames. The Kenku, similar to those we find today, were nomadic, traveling from place to place, but were once a much more mirthful people, bringing celebration and revelry with them. However, the story the Kenku tell ends with being abandoned by their God, though no one is quite sure what happened, many speculate that they may have been absorbed into other fire and sun deities, unable to hold onto their rather minor portfolio, others postulate about their death, while some speculate that they perhaps simply walked away unbothered by the fate of their creation.
Their lose would be felt after a generation or two, when they lost their divine spark that linked them to the Phoenix, they no longer bore bright, incandescent colors in their feathers, instead they turned a to dark greys and blacks, reminiscent of the coals left behind by a mirthful fire. The still roam the countryside, a proud people, they try to keep spirits high and continue their culture of revelry and celebration, but times can be hard for those without a spark. Once lauded as brilliant storytellers, the Kenku are no longer able to recite their oral histories that passed down through the generations, losing all connection to those who bore bright feathers. The only story they tell nowadays is that of who they once were.