Expanding Elves

So, a few weeks ago, I posted something on Elves. Here's a lot more. Why? Because I stupidly decided there'd be a small elf community a bit north of where the campaign begins. Which means people might decide to go there. Which means I need some vague ideas on what elves are like. Again, I am not claiming I'm redefining elves or making some amazingly original creations here. I begin with the core D&D tropes and then try to detail them in a way which I think breeds plots or the potential for interesting characters. To me, the essence of the D&D (i.e, Tolkein ripoff) elf is alienness. Living for centuries makes you different, and a bit weird. Being chaotic by nature just magnifies it. Elves understand the world differently. They don't see in four dimensions, but maybe they see in three and a half. They're just a little bit out there, and you know everything they do and say makes perfect sense to them, but they're still tilted just a couple of degrees outside our reality. They're playing by rules you not only don't know, but can't learn.

As is usually the case, this essay is bass-ackwards, in the sense that first I wrote up an elvish community, making up some names and roles and concepts, then, from the community, I back-engineered elvish culture. (This isn't all that odd -- for example, Gene Roddenberry created Spock with pointy ears and greenish skin, then reverse-engineered this to establish an arid, thin-aired Vulcan and copper-based blood.) I'll bet an awful lot of creative types do "Concept first, justification after".

Anyway, elves -- Revised&Expanded.

Elves
The elves of Arith are among the oldest of the Free Peoples, though certainly not the oldest sapient species. They are long-lived beings who dwell in environments which carefully blend natural beauty and civilized comfort. They once ruled over vast empires, long before the first Magewar, but now are a somewhat diminished race, gathered into a few large woodland cities and countless small settlements and villages. The elves produce many skilled individuals, but few great heroes -- but those who do exist are great indeed.

The Long Sleep
Elves live for centuries, but very few spend all, or even most, of that time in a single pursuit. After a few decades of life, an Elf will grow weary, and develop a deep sense of ennui and indifference. All joy flees from existence; food is bland, lovemaking tiring, even life-and-death struggles begin to pall. At this time, the elf enters what is known as the Long Sleep, where they enter into a coma-like state, needing nothing but air to survive. (Obviously, they do this in safe surroundings -- usually a sacred hall in a larger Elvish community). The Long Sleep lasts for 6-10 years. When the elf awakes, he is reborn in spirit. While he retains, in part, all of his old memories, he has lost much of his learning. In essence, he emerges with no class levels, and begins life anew, studying different arts than he did before. The dreams of the Long Sleep serve to show him new paths in life, and he might emerge with a different alignment. While still technically the same person, he thinks of himself as one reborn, and often ignores old friendships and commitments, as if they belonged to another. (Elf law dictates this is so -- marriages end when one spouse enters the Long Sleep, and debts are forgiven as if the debtor had died. Laws of other cultures are not so understanding.)

Government
Elvish government is summarized by lalithilianilis, or 'Agreement reached by consensus which transcends speech'. Elves simply understand how things are supposed to happen. They are bound by few rules, and most of those rules are based on complex webs of understanding and cultural assumptions. To an outsider, everyone simply seems to do as they please, but to the elves, their society is perfectly sane and controlled. Even a simple request such as "Who is in charge here?" is meaningless to elves, since the answer could change based on the situation, the time of year, or even the phase of the moon. Long dealings with other races have taught them to have a few spokesmen, but those are not the true 'leaders' -- rather, their job is to appear to humans, etc, to give them a person to consider as a leader so that their needs are met. Elves have little concept of hierarchy and 'leader' and 'follower' can shift and change with each passing moment.

Names
Elf names are long and complicated. Unlike their place names, which are usually descriptive and poetic, an elf's name seems to others -- even those who speak Elvish - to be merely a long collection of syllables, usually five or six words in length. To the elf, though, the name is summation of their essence, and speaking it will produce, in the listener, a resonance which tells them all they need to know of the person. As such, the name changes as the person does, and one elf can tell another all that they have gone through over a decade merely by giving their new name, which might differ by as little as a syllable from their old one.

Personality
Elves are constantly torn between the Now and the Never. An elf can become suddenly focused, sometimes frighteningly so, when an event occurs which demands immediate attention -- such as an attack. However, anything which doesn't need to be done now might as well need to be done never -- if an elf loses focus, he/she might well forget about the undone job for a month, a year, or more, unless suddenly reminded.

Religion
Elves worship a large pantheon of gods. All of their deities blend humanoid and natural traits, either plant or animal, and tend to shift in the degree to which these traits balance over time. Jalillianili, Goddess of the Hunt, for example, sometimes appears as an elf with a few slightly lupine features, other times as an elvish werewolf, and other times as a wolf which a few hints of elven blood. An artist might portray her anywhere along the spectrum in accordance with what aspect of her he was trying to convey or invoke.

Elvish worship is not predicated on specific rites and rituals, but on a 'sense of properness' -- they will sometimes stop and pray at seemingly random moments, or ignore the gods for years and then volunteer for a holy quest. Elvish clerics are simply those more attuned to the moment than the lay populace. Religion is one thread of the entire tapestry of life; a blade might contain symbols of the Goddess of the Hunt, the God of Ironworking, or even the Goddess of Family, depending on the whim of the crafter or the inspiration of the customer. (It might contain no religious iconography at all, too)

Language
The elvish language is lyrical and complex. While most people can learn the basics, truly mastering the language is amazingly difficult for non-elves. The individual words are not exceptionally complex, though the elves pride themselves on single words which encompass multiple aspects of a single concept. Rather, the true complexity is in the tenses, as the Elvish frame of reference is so long that conjugation includes span of time in the past of the future. Further, both nouns and verbs must be conjugated in this fashion, so that "I walked to the store" must be said, in Elvish, as "I(From the point in the past where I was born to the point in the future where I will cease to be) walked (seven days ago) to the store (as it existed in that point in the past)" To elves, this is intuitive; to others, it is nightmarish. Further, as befits their nature, elvish "rules" of grammar are more polite suggestions; poetic phrasings and metaphors are more important than sticking to the rules.

Art And Culture
Some non-elvish sociologists have commented on the 'beautiful simplicity' of Elvish arts, from woodcarving to cooking. They miss the point. Elves have remarkably complex arts, but the complexity is hidden by an obsessive drive to perfection. An elf cook might make a thousand variants on a single dish, constantly experimenting by varying ingredients by the tiniest degree, until he has achieved absolutely the flavor he desires. An arrowsmith might make ten arrowheads a day, year after year, and only the most keen of observers would note that each one has a slightly different pattern carefully hammered into it, making them as unique as snowflakes. The smith, though, could look at anyone and then tell you the day, and even the hour, it was made, simply by studying the pattern she implanted.

After The Crush
The elves found themselves "trapped in a world they never made", but then again, so did everyone else. Their centers of civilization in the region of the Pacific Northwest were wiped out, and their ancient foes, the bugbears, emerged in force to ravage what remained. As with most of the other races, it was the small outposts and isolated villages which survived more-or-less intact.

Elves had earned great respect from the humans of Arith for their wisdom and power, but the humans of Earth at first saw them as one more set of invaders. Early battles between the two races still leave bitter memories, even though hesitant truces have been forged in many regions. Older Earthborn refer to the elves as "Spocks" or "Keeblers", or greets any passing elf with "Yo, Legolas!", though a certain segment of the populace finds their unearthly beauty and aloof intellectualism compellingly attractive, so it is hardly surprising that half-elves are becoming common anywhere that the two peoples live together in any kind of peace. (Some elves find humans' energy and enthusiasm sufficiently appealing that their other flaws can be overlooked, at least for a night's pleasure...and what is one night out of many tens of thousands?)

The elves thought the humans of Arith were living life at a full gallop with no ability to slow down and appreciate things, as well as dying so fast you hardly got to know one before you were meeting his great-great-grandchildren. Thus, they see the humans of Earth as little more than mad blurs of motion, and what they've learned of pre-Crush Earth society fascinates and repels them. The walls that Earthborn humans erected between themselves and their world -- both physical and metaphysical -- terrify them. Many have found a new appreciation for the humans of Arith, suddenly aware of how far they might have gone. "Skallidane across the entire world" is a typical Elvish phrase for Earth human culture.

They are also fascinated, and intensely curious, with the fact that a race very similair to their own features so prominently in human art and literature -- along with dwarves, gnomes, and other such beings. Those philosophers who have survived have begun to formulate theories, but it will be decades, or longer, before any of them feels they know enough to voice their hypotheses.

Most elvish communities are more isolationist than ever. Few in number and slow breeding, they wish to preserve all they can. When it is prudent to deal regularly with other societies, they usually have an outpost a few miles from their main population center, which serves as a place to meet and trade. They often prefer to be helpful, within certain limits, as long exposure to human psychology has taught them humans hate most that which they do not understand. Thus, no matter how odd or distasteful they might find it, many elves regularly leave their communities to work in cooperative ventures with humans, often in the form of shared patrols, teaching of history or art, or running messages back and forth. "To the humans, the mysterious is the dangerous, and that which is dangerous must be killed out of hand."

A few small hints...

To: Tom Gordon.
Subject: Good Guess. :)

Which brings up an interesting problem for this blog, in that some parts of the world need to remain hidden for the sake of the live game -- not just NPCs and adventures, but Mysteries To Be Revealed. It's not that I don't trust my players not to act on OOC knowledge -- they're much too good for that -- but rather, that it robs them of the fun of discovering the world. Ultimately, the game is about showing the players a good time, and anything which gets in the way of that is problematic.

So, while it surprises no one that something has survived more-or-less intact(ish), (It's such an essential trope of the genre that it must be included) the where, when, and how has to remain hidden for the nonce. (I also need to work out a few key details...)

As a side note, this is the kind of thing I loathe in commercial products -- the "setting details revealed in next supplement" marketing scheme. (Brave New World, I'm looking at YOU.) I'm not talking about things where the world is too big for one supplement to detail properly, I'm talking about things where core premises or major, major, plot elements are left out, not to give the GM freedom but to sell more books. If the campaign world has any big Secrets or Hidden Lore, they should be given up-front -- maybe not detailed to the nth degree, but there so the GM knows about them and can take them into account. Forex, imagine if the new Galactica were released as an RPG first, and the first sourcebook completely failed to mention that Cylons now come in fleshtone. (I also hate metaplot in game settings; give me the world at Point X, give me everything I need to know to start running it, and sell me supplements which simply expand on that base in terms of depth and detail. Don't "advance the timeline" to kill off major NPCs, nuke a city, or otherwise screw with my live game. If you think you've run out of crap to milk for sales, then, if you must, release a "future" setting or a "past" setting which basically kicks off a whole new baseline. (OK, I never use prepackaged supplements anyway, but when these tactics annoy me on a general level.))

Enough ranting. Elves later. (Been setting up a new computer, and, as usual, that sucks down most of my time and energy. Gack.)

Let The Infodumping Re-Commence! (Bugbears)

So here's the thing. I've been churning out world details like mad, but a lot of it has been scenario-focused since the game is now up and running. I don't plan to post major NPCs and stats somewhere where nasssty playerses can gets their pawses on them, preciousss. So I sort of need to edit and filter that which is truly world-based out from that which is in-game based.

In any event, there's a whole mound of what I term 'cascade creation' going on. I start doing X, I have a tossaway reference to Y, then when I do Y I realize a need for Z, and so on. A lot of the offshoots of what I'm doing for the scenario can and will be posted here. In the meanwhile, though, I've been developing the culture and background for one of the many humanoid races which wander the campaign world. That they also happen to be antagonists for the first story arc is a nice bonus. Nothing in here is current-plot-specific, though, so I can post with minimal fear. (This is also an interesting example how plot and general creation drive each other. I had some short notes on bugbears, which inspired my plot -- then I found that the plot caused me to ask questions of myself, which caused me to do a lot more development on the bugbears to fill in some gaps. There's still some things left, such as family life and exotic weapons, and mebbe some racial spells, and....sigh. Here's the annoying thing. Give me a week, I could write a 32 page PDF with full details to make the race fun and interesting for any campaign, but with 4e looming and GM-focused supplements selling extra-poorly, what would be the point? Eventually, I'd like to have an ad-supported blog which earned enough money to justify serious time investment, but for now, I have to limit myself to interesting tidbits that are created during my normal 'allotted' time for creative endeavours.)

Anyone want to be a Patron Of The Arts?

Didn't think so. Sigh.

Anyhoo...Bugbears! (Tomorrow -- more on Elves.)
=============================
Bugbears

History
Bugbears have long been mortal enemies of the elves, as both claim the woodlands for their own. While the elves adapted the arts of men and dwarves into their own culture, becoming masters of crafting and construction, the bugbears clung to the simplest of tools, albeit fashioned with cunning. They built no great cities, but lived as semi-nomads, wandering during warm months and settling into small villages during the cold winter. They also raided passing travelers and outlying villages, and many individuals turned to banditry. Over decades of war with the elves, they were driven into the deepest and most remote parts of the wood, denied access to many areas which had been their traditional homes. Many tribes became semi-underground dwellers, seizing the upper levels of the underdark passages for themselves and driving out smaller, weaker, races, including their goblin kin. There, they nursed their hatred for the elves who had driven them out of the lands which were rightfully theirs.

The Crush impacted them little, directly. To some extent, all it did was dump a host of fresh raiding targets in their laps. While many of the Earthborn who dwelled in the regions the bugbears called home were armed, they were not prepared to deal with organized raiding parties. The bugbears reacted to guns, tractors, and other artifacts of man with insane hatred, and tore apart anyone using such devices against them with no hint of mercy. Small towns nestled in the deep woods were attacked, raided for fresh foods, and then burned, the inhabitants slaughtered if they could not escape. Elves fleeing the destruction of their great cities were also targeted, and the many elvish outposts which kept the bugbears in place were overrun and destroyed.

The bugbears have no great nations, but the two largest collections of tribes are found in the former Pacific Northwest and in the heart of Europe, in and around the former Black Forest. Smaller groups are known to exist in parts of the American South, New England, and the jungles of Central America. Individuals who have left their tribes for whatever reason might be found anywhere, though they are welcomed in few settlements.

Culture
Bugbears consider themselves guardians of nature and embodiments of the natural order, which is a struggle of all against all where the weak exist solely as prey for the strong. They have a deep seated, perhaps almost instinctual, hatred of metalworking, and this extends to almost any craft beyond a late paleothic level. They are, perhaps, the finest stoneknappers and woodworkers of the humanoids, but all their craft cannot make a wooden shield hold against a mithral axe or allow a sling stone to be deadlier than a crossbow bolt. They compensate for this by breeding powerful druids, and training their best warriors in the arts of stealth and ambush.

Bugbears are also violent and chaotic by nature, and no tribe can grow to more than a few hundred individuals before it fragments, usually in a single day of brutal conflict. When tribes disagree over territory or resources, there will be a contest of champions, but the losing tribe often disregards the results and attacks anyway, if it sees an advantage. Unlike the more egalitarian goblins and hobgoblins, bugbears view their females as nothing more than breeding machines and tokens of status for the alpha males of the tribe. On the other hand, females and young are protected with insane vigor, and attackers will not reach the women and children of the tribe until every male of fighting age is dead.

In times past, bugbears were taken as prisoners by the hoboblin nations, and these slaves have been bred for strength and obedience for centuries. Despised by their free ancestors, they are shock troops and workers for the hobgoblins. In the aftermath of the Crush, some have freed themselves, and, without homes among the Free Peoples or their own kind, they often join up with bandit gangs or seek work as mercenary soldiers.


Religion
Bugbears are a nature-oriented people, but, unlike the elves, their gods do not incorporate nature into their physical forms. Bugbear religion is based partially on reincarnation, on the belief that a spirit travels through life over and over -- for a time. If the spirit survives life's challenges, it grows stronger with each incarnation, until it eventually ascends to godhood. A weak spirit is torn a little for each life in which it fails, and eventually, it is too weak to remain in the materal world and is pulled into the Maelstrom Forest, a lower plane where the souls of the weak are hunted, tormented, and tortured until they are reduced to raw soul-stuff, which then reincarnates with a 'fresh start'. Souls strong enough to break free of the material but too weak to become gods become the deities servants, avatars, and messengers. Bugbears do not believe reborn souls can incarnate as anything but bugbears; all other races have alien souls, even their goblinoid kin.

Some spirits linger between incarnations, lending their power to the worthy. From these waiting souls come the shamanic powers of some bugbears.


Glugruk The Challenger
Bugbears do not have a well defined hierarchy of gods. Indeed, each tribe has at least one 'local' god who is the deified version of their greatest and most famous ancestral hero. A few deities, though, seem to exist in one form or another across bugbear culture, and one such is Glugruk The Challenger. In life, it is said, Glugruk would never refuse a challenge which the challenger was also willing to do -- swim a raging river, enter a human city and kidnap an infant, march into an orc lair and slay ten of their warriors. As long as both contestants faced the same task with the same odds, Glugruk would accept, and the legends say he never, ever, lost.

After his ascension, Glugruk began to appear to worthy-seeming bugbears to offer them tasks to undertake. For these challenges, Glugruk would incarnate himself in the same form as the one being challenged, and if the target managed a decent showing without cowardice or hesitation, Glugruk would offer a blessing. If he failed or refused...he died. Victory was not essential, but performing beyond the normal limits was.

Bugbear rangers and barbarians are the most common followers of Glugruk. He has few true clerics, as that sort of religious training is not a major part of bugbear culture.


Blugrul The Wisdom-Giver
While might and skill are admired among bugbears, there is also respect for those capable of cunning, insight, and awareness -- provided such things lead to victory! Blugrul is the second of the 'shared gods' known to most bugbear clans. He was, in life, reputed to be a great seeker of secrets, tearing them from those who guarded them. He believed that nothing should be unknown or hidden to those with the courage and daring to learn the great truths.

When he ascended, he became a revealer of knowledge to bugbear shamans -- but he never gave answers, only a path to where the answers could be found. Winning the answer -- and understanding it -- was up to he to whom the answer was given.

Obviously, spirit shamans are the main followers of Blugrul, but rogues and scouts -- all those who seek that which is hidden -- hope to emulate his success and ascend into his service.


Classes
The typical bugbear is a first level Warrior, but elite bugbears are likely to be Rangers, Rogues, or Druids. As with all races, there are bugbear Sorcerers, and many bugbears become Barbarians. Few bugbears are true fighters, as they lack the dedication to the fighting arts which that class requires, as well as lacking the metal armor and weapons the class tends to rely on. A rare few are psychic warriors or psiblades. Wizards, standard Clerics, and Monk are almost unknown. A handful of bugbears find they can become tribal drum-shamans, or bards, often with a slightly different spell list.