I've had a hard time crystalizing my real feelings about this issue. Sometimes racial classes have felt unnaturally restrictive, or at least inconsistent. Sometimes racial classes have felt like a way to ensure a sense of otherness for demihumans, or seems to be an elegant way to handle monsters as PCs.
Race as a class also seems consistent with the source material. In the Lord of the Rings, Frodo's most enduring and relevant feature was his hobbit-ness. I'm not sure what his occupation was. Gentry? Land-owner? I would struggle to put anybody in the Fellowship besides Gandalf into a D&D-like class.
Anyway, what if "elf" and "dwarf" were occupations? What if they were titles used for people with a particular skill set?
Elf
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad.
- Terry Pratchet
Beyond the fields we know lie the forests of Elfland. The border between these two worlds is mercurial. Like the tides, it sometimes rushes forwards, and sometimes falls back. Creatures that live close to the border are changed by the experience. Deer give birth to silver white fawns. Owls eyes seem to glow with lamplight. Trees grow watchful and whispery. Things become weird.
So, too, do mortal men.
Humans who live near the borders of Elfland grow as strange as the faerie that make their homes there. They gain an otherworldly appearance--their ears taper to a point, their eyes flash with the colors of beautiful gems, their voices grow melodious as bells. Magic grows inside of them, too. Spells stumble spontaneously out of their lips. Their senses are sharp. Their minds are strange.
Elves call themselves "Elfland Rangers." They patrol the border spaces and make sure that the settlements of mortal men are safe from the faerie-touched beasts and marauding fey that might wander over the border. Trolls and redcaps are stayed off by their vigilance.
Most folk simply call these rangers "elves" as a convenient term. But do not think that an elf is a true denizen of Elfland. There are things more awful and awesome at the heart of that curious country.
Dwarves
"The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels, the toys of the Dwarves; nor in iron, their servant.... Its worth was ten times that of gold, and now it is beyond price; for little is left above ground, and even the Orcs dare not delve here for it."
A pound of mithryl is worth twice a pound of platinum, but no kingdom mints mithryl coins. It is far too useful to be used in such a manner. Only mithryl arms and armor can hold an enchantment. Only mithryl is free from the touch of iron and, thus, wieldable by sorcerers and their ilk. Only mithryl can be used as ink that can trap spells in grimoires.
However, mithryl in its raw form is dangerous. It's mystical aura is radioactive. Silver miners sometimes go mad from the silver fumes. Coal miners suffer debilitating diseases of the lung. Mithryl miners are warped and twisted into ugly, loathsome little men. Their backs bent low by their labors, their skin rough and wrinkled, their noses engorged, their ears giant and round, these miners trade their youth and comeliness for the gift of gold.
Mithryl mining rights are exclusively controlled by the Stalwart Company of Delvers. This guild has its own idiosyncrasies and incestuous culture. The Delvers spend so long down in the mines, they develop their own slang forms of Common. When not mining, they are notorious drunks and brawlers. However, their mining skills serve them well in many capacities. They're skilled fighters, having often to defend their veins against deep-dwelling monsters. They're cunning in engineering and stonework. Some even claim to be able to "smell" gold.
The word "dwarf" is a derogatory term. If one of the Delvers hears such a term used in his presence, you can expect a fight.
Halflings
'My men went on and presently met the Lotus-Eaters, nor did these Lotus-Eaters have any thoughts of destroying our companions, but they only gave them lotus to taste of. But any of them who ate the honey-sweet fruit of lotus was unwilling to take any message back, or to go away, but they wanted to stay there with the lotus-eating people, feeding on lotus, and forget the way home.'
When you were young, your mother told you that smoking pipeweed would stunt your growth. You did it a couple of times, and it was fun, and you were fine. But then you got your apprenticeship, and you grew up, and you stopped that nonsense. Well, you did, but Patrick from your village didn't. He stayed on the pipeweed. He did stay short. In fact, he looks sort of like a little kid. You heard he joined those crazy hole-dwelling hippies.
The Holbytla, or halflings as they're more commonly called, is a agriculture-based mystery cult defined by their ritualized use of pipe-weed. Frequent exposure to pipe-weed has resulted in a mutated, child-like appearance in its membership. The Holbytla don't mind this. They say the pipe-weed teaches them to be gentle and innocent as children. Well, they say a lot of things.
Ideally, the Holbytla prefer to isolate themselves from society. They teach agrarian values based on a mythical golden age past, where a stratified farming-based economy actually worked out and was fair and fun. They live close to the land. Really close. In fact, they dig holes into hills and live there.
Most of a Holbytla cultist's days are spent farming, but they are noted hedonists. Obviously, ritualized pipe-weed smoking features prominently. Weekly feasting is also a prominent part of their religious practices. Drinking to excess? You betcha.
The result is a most curious mix of religious adherents. Knowledgeable in woodcraft and naturalism, but small and constantly high, halfling adventurers are a curious lot.
Analysis
Yeah, I'd probably never use this in a real game, but I think it's sort of an interesting thought experiment. From a folklore perspective, humans transforming into otherworld creatures is entirely precedented. Rationalism and a firm understanding of genetics never really entered into any of the Brother's Grimm stories. Fafnir turned from a dwarf into a dragon via greed. Guests of the Erl-king ride from his halls and discover the world much changed, and they now must ride forever on their hunting horses or crumble to dust. I find the aspects of transformation more compelling than these particular takes.
This is the first time I have ever wanted hobbits in my game.
ReplyDeleteOkay, this is just brilliant. I love this. I wanna try too.
ReplyDeleteElves: 10/10. No notes. Perfect. Chef's kiss.
Dwarves: Yeah, yeah, excellent. They're basically tunnel-fighting miners and/or blacksmiths... Again, I love the vaguely (but strongly) folk-horror aspect of it. "Humans are not MEANT to live THERE, nor like THAT. Living THERE for so long and like THAT changes people..."
Okay cool cool.
Halflings: ...Uhhhhh... That's pretty weird, buddy. You've still got some of the folk horror vibe, but... is it EXACTLY an adventuring class...?
Let's try this: we've got--Elven rangers because too long living in the Forests--Dwarven blacksmiths and miners and tunnel-scrappers because too long Down in The Mines--Halfling bards because too long in The Hills.
Let's get really Manly Wade Wellman's Appalachia with a little tiny bit of Deliverance. The Hills Have Eyes, but not out in the Southwest. These Hills have their own weird and freaky cursed vibe, and the many families who've dwelled there too long have gotten little and shrunken and freaky too. Too in touch with nature. They can walk circles around you and you don't see nor hear a thing-- unless they want you to. BUT with it has also come eerie and eldritch beautiful music, too, lute-playing and singing that can literally enchant you...
--Next let's keep going folk-horror-- gnome druids because too long living out on the moors. I love the idea I think you said elsewhere that gnomes are immortal but not ageless. These dangerous little tiny old men and women who chant and do things with wicker statues burning out on the moors. They were normal men and women when they first got to the moors but time went by and they just got older and more wizened and...
--Next-- Lizardmen fighters because too long in the swamps and marshes. Normal people started living their whole life in those swamps, started adapting to it, changing to fit it, the swamp changed them, getting stronger, tougher, more-- amphibious...
--I want gnoll barbarians because too long on the plains. Sure, humans live on the plains, on the edges of it, but in cities, villages, farmsteads. Normal people don't just roam the plains, living out there by themselves, or in-- packs. Prowling around at night. Finding prey by smell-- and bringing them down on foot and by hand-- or claw. Get some skinchanger stuff going on.
ARRGH "comment is too long" okay let's do it in multi-parts--
DeleteCONTINUED
--I want aarakocra clerics and sword-saints because too long up on the mountaintops. No normal people are supposed to live up there away from the rest of us like that. Let's get some tengu stuff going, raven sword-saints, air-domain clerics, who knows what those people worship up there.
--I want dragonkin mages out because too long living out in the desert. Nothing should be able to survive out there, but those people do. Dries 'em out, makes 'em like those lizards that somehow survive out there, makes 'em weird, scaly. What are they getting up to, out there? What weird spells are they learning to cast? And why? What's out there in the desert that they need to cast spells at?
--I want tiefling warlocks because of living too long by, and on, the sea. What whispers to those people who listen to the waves and the gulls for too long? What dark secrets make them start growing horns and tails and make their eyes glow? Who are they muttering about that sleeps down there on the ocean floor? (ALTERNATIVELY, grungs or bullywugs, to go even more Lovecraftian...)
--I want tabaxi because of humans living too long in the depths of the jungle... Can't survive the horrors of the jungle if you can't move quietly and climb a tree like a cat-- so the jungle starts changing them...
--And let's try some-- mm, I don't wanna call 'em orcs... let's call 'em Tuskers. Live in cliffside villages in the canyons and mesas. Get strange ideas, practice strange spiritual exercises, pushing their bodies beyond what anyone would think they're capable of until they can balance on the point of a spear-- balance ON THEIR STOMACHS on the point of a spear, that's the kind of abs we're talking about. I don't know what they're finding to eat up there-- surely not the fish from that river that runs through the canyon, because that's not melted snow off the mountains, that water comes from underground and who knows where it's been-- but however they're living, it turns their skin green and gives 'em tusks that grow up out of the front of their jaw. They apparently just practice the arts of war all day up there, doin' push-ups, practicing with weird weapons, balancing their whole bodies on one hand or one finger or whatever. What's upstream in those canyons that they have to practice to fight like that?
--Finally, of course, under the human cities themselves, we have goblins and/or kobolds, who live in the ancient sewers and/or the ancient catacombs... that's not healthy, down there with that filth, no wonder it changes those people... goblins are extremely tempting, but I really prefer kobolds, trapping the sewer passages and corridors...
(Pushes button to communicate with Deep 13): What'd'y'think, sirs...?