Way back when I started playing D&D, the elf was a class, and there was only one kind of elf. As the game evolved, subspecies developed and joined the game. New settings brought more kinds of elves, and now there are more than you can shake a stick at. Why so many elves? Why do they have such a fascination for gamers?
From One Sprung Many
For most gamers, I think that high elves, gray elves, and wood elves form the holy trinity. They are the three aspects of “elfness,” if you will. High elves are the perfect balance of nature and civilization, trained in the art of war. Gray elves are more intellectual, and excel at magic. Wood elves are isolationists, hiding their cities within the very trees. While individuals are always the exception, as a rule these three subraces are considered good and represent an ideal to which humans aspire, regardless of the setting. In my games, high elves have peach skin, gray elves have paper white skin, and wood elves have deep brown skin.
No Light without Darkness
Of course, every coin has a flip side. Dark elves, also known as drow, are the epitome of evil, as opposite the aboveground elves as day is to night. Deliciously decadent, devious, and deviant, the drow matriarchial society suppresses males, flirts with demonology, and reinforces “might makes right.” In the beginning they had pitch black skin, but that’s lightened over the years to a pale gray. In my games, royal drow have deep purple skin, while the common drow have black.
One if by Land, Two if by Sea
Aquatic elves round out the subspecies best known in gaming circles. Oerth sports only one species, but Krynn has two – the Dargonesti and Dimernesti – that are taller and more muscular than their land-dwelling cousins. The Dargonesti have deep blue skin, while the Dimernesti have light blue. Toril has two subspecies as well; those that dwell in the Great Sea have green skin with brown stripes, while those in the Sea of Fallen Stars have blue skin with white stripes. In my games, aquatic elves have green skin.
Up, Up, Up
Power creep says that since elves are already superior to humans, they need wings. Avariels are winged elves that first appeared in the Forgotten Realms setting (near as I can tell). I’ve avoided allowing them in my conventional campaigns, but for my Planescape campaign, they can be found on the Beastlands.
Worlds Away
As new campaigns hit the market, player character races got tweaked to fit the settings, and elves were no exception. Most changes were just cultural, with new names to quickly identify what generic elf – high, gray, or wood – came from which setting. The Forgotten Realms called its high elves moon or silver; gray elves were gold or sunrise; wood elves were wild or green. Dragonlance further subdivided, having Qualinesti (high), Silvanesti (gray), and Kagonesti, Tamirnesti, and Armachnesti (all wood). Greyhawk added grugach (wood) and valley elves (gray). Grugach are wilder than normal wood elves, and valley elves are touched by the arcane power of the Vale of the Mage. In my campaigns, grugach have copper-colored skin, and valley elves have rainbow-colored hair.
Dark Sun gave us Athasian elves, taller than humans and consummate runners. Al-Qadim gave us Zakharan elves, practically indistinguishable from the common elf. Eberron has the Aerenal (gray) who worship their Undying ancestors, the Valenar (wood) who are expert riders, and the Khorvaire (high) elves who have integrated themselves into the countries and dragonmarked houses. Eberron also gave us drow dwelling in Xen’drik with an affinity for scorpions instead of spiders.
But Wait, There’s More!
There are elven subraces for Mystara and Birthright as well, and elves in Ravenloft and Spelljammer. Snow elves were introduced in Dragon 155, and Rockseer elves were introduced in the Night Below boxed set. 4th edition changed gray elves into eladrin. When you change game systems altogether, the list continues to grow. Warhammer has elves. World of Darkness has elves. Lord of the Rings has elves (but since the source material predates D&D, we can’t accuse the setting of jumping on the bandwagon).
Why?
So what is the attraction? I can only speak for myself, but what draws me to elves is the perception of perfection. As human beings, we strive for perfection, and elves seem to embody it effortlessly. They live forever (or at least much, much longer than other races, depending on the setting). They are masters of the mundane and the arcane, with heightened senses, no need to sleep, and a lineage that can be traced back to their gods. They’re all sexy, as evidenced by the multitude of half-elves in rpgs. You don’t see half-halflings, half-dwarves, or half-gnomes as player character races, do you? What? What about half-orcs? That’s a topic for another discussion…
Different but the Same
There are actually two different images of elves that are prevalent in our western culture, both mashed together by gaming rpgs. On the one hand, we have the elves from classic fantasy literature, most notably the Lord of the Rings. On the other, we have the elves of myth and story, most notably Irish folk tales. One group is cool and aloof, living like humans but better in every way. The other group is wild and playful, true children of nature with no need for civilized trappings. Both aspects appeal to people for different reasons, because they’re reflections of man’s internal struggle between being a part of nature and dominating it for our own ends.
Look Toward the Future
As I research elves on the internet, I find references to Vulcans and Romulans as “elves in space” and, upon reflection, I can see the parallels. Vulcans do embody the same characteristics most gamers attribute to gray elves (and high elves, to a lesser extent) and the eladrin of 4th edition. Romulans are passionate and high strung, zealous and territorial, much like wood elves. The two are said to be descendants of a single race, much like all the elves of D&D sprang from a single master race that spread throughout the crystal spheres. I don’t know which came first – Vulcan/Romulan canon or D&D elven canon – but I have a sneaking suspicion that both have contributed to the others’ development over the years, especially during the 80s when I was a teenager.
Hindsight is 20/20
When I read back through this article, I notice I’ve pointed out the color of each elven subrace’s skin in my campaigns. I don’t know why I started doing that as a child, although I colored a lot of the pictures in my gaming books, and maybe it helped me differentiate what picture I associated with which campaign setting. I distinctly remember that when Spelljammer came out, I decided the “elves in space” were a separate subrace altogether from the planet-dwelling elves, and I gave them bright blue skin and made them all bald. (Don’t ask me why – I don’t remember.) It’s something I’ve continued in my campaigns to this day, and probably speaks to something in my subconscious I don’t wish to dig up.
The point is, I’ve spent a lot of time throughout my gaming career focusing on the differences between the elven subraces, because the gaming designers created so many different subraces, and I felt there must be a reason for it. Perhaps they’re a metaphor for mankind, divided into myriad nations with different skin color, hair color, religion, and social values, but all the same at the fundamental, cellular level. Elves are what we want mankind to be in the future – noble, accomplished, worldly, and spread out throughout the stars. Sure of our place in the multiverse, and confident in our abilities. United despite our differences. Aspiring for perfection, even if we never achieve it.
I think I want to be an elf.
From One Sprung Many
For most gamers, I think that high elves, gray elves, and wood elves form the holy trinity. They are the three aspects of “elfness,” if you will. High elves are the perfect balance of nature and civilization, trained in the art of war. Gray elves are more intellectual, and excel at magic. Wood elves are isolationists, hiding their cities within the very trees. While individuals are always the exception, as a rule these three subraces are considered good and represent an ideal to which humans aspire, regardless of the setting. In my games, high elves have peach skin, gray elves have paper white skin, and wood elves have deep brown skin.
No Light without Darkness
Of course, every coin has a flip side. Dark elves, also known as drow, are the epitome of evil, as opposite the aboveground elves as day is to night. Deliciously decadent, devious, and deviant, the drow matriarchial society suppresses males, flirts with demonology, and reinforces “might makes right.” In the beginning they had pitch black skin, but that’s lightened over the years to a pale gray. In my games, royal drow have deep purple skin, while the common drow have black.
One if by Land, Two if by Sea
Aquatic elves round out the subspecies best known in gaming circles. Oerth sports only one species, but Krynn has two – the Dargonesti and Dimernesti – that are taller and more muscular than their land-dwelling cousins. The Dargonesti have deep blue skin, while the Dimernesti have light blue. Toril has two subspecies as well; those that dwell in the Great Sea have green skin with brown stripes, while those in the Sea of Fallen Stars have blue skin with white stripes. In my games, aquatic elves have green skin.
Up, Up, Up
Power creep says that since elves are already superior to humans, they need wings. Avariels are winged elves that first appeared in the Forgotten Realms setting (near as I can tell). I’ve avoided allowing them in my conventional campaigns, but for my Planescape campaign, they can be found on the Beastlands.
Worlds Away
As new campaigns hit the market, player character races got tweaked to fit the settings, and elves were no exception. Most changes were just cultural, with new names to quickly identify what generic elf – high, gray, or wood – came from which setting. The Forgotten Realms called its high elves moon or silver; gray elves were gold or sunrise; wood elves were wild or green. Dragonlance further subdivided, having Qualinesti (high), Silvanesti (gray), and Kagonesti, Tamirnesti, and Armachnesti (all wood). Greyhawk added grugach (wood) and valley elves (gray). Grugach are wilder than normal wood elves, and valley elves are touched by the arcane power of the Vale of the Mage. In my campaigns, grugach have copper-colored skin, and valley elves have rainbow-colored hair.
Dark Sun gave us Athasian elves, taller than humans and consummate runners. Al-Qadim gave us Zakharan elves, practically indistinguishable from the common elf. Eberron has the Aerenal (gray) who worship their Undying ancestors, the Valenar (wood) who are expert riders, and the Khorvaire (high) elves who have integrated themselves into the countries and dragonmarked houses. Eberron also gave us drow dwelling in Xen’drik with an affinity for scorpions instead of spiders.
But Wait, There’s More!
There are elven subraces for Mystara and Birthright as well, and elves in Ravenloft and Spelljammer. Snow elves were introduced in Dragon 155, and Rockseer elves were introduced in the Night Below boxed set. 4th edition changed gray elves into eladrin. When you change game systems altogether, the list continues to grow. Warhammer has elves. World of Darkness has elves. Lord of the Rings has elves (but since the source material predates D&D, we can’t accuse the setting of jumping on the bandwagon).
Why?
So what is the attraction? I can only speak for myself, but what draws me to elves is the perception of perfection. As human beings, we strive for perfection, and elves seem to embody it effortlessly. They live forever (or at least much, much longer than other races, depending on the setting). They are masters of the mundane and the arcane, with heightened senses, no need to sleep, and a lineage that can be traced back to their gods. They’re all sexy, as evidenced by the multitude of half-elves in rpgs. You don’t see half-halflings, half-dwarves, or half-gnomes as player character races, do you? What? What about half-orcs? That’s a topic for another discussion…
Different but the Same
There are actually two different images of elves that are prevalent in our western culture, both mashed together by gaming rpgs. On the one hand, we have the elves from classic fantasy literature, most notably the Lord of the Rings. On the other, we have the elves of myth and story, most notably Irish folk tales. One group is cool and aloof, living like humans but better in every way. The other group is wild and playful, true children of nature with no need for civilized trappings. Both aspects appeal to people for different reasons, because they’re reflections of man’s internal struggle between being a part of nature and dominating it for our own ends.
Look Toward the Future
As I research elves on the internet, I find references to Vulcans and Romulans as “elves in space” and, upon reflection, I can see the parallels. Vulcans do embody the same characteristics most gamers attribute to gray elves (and high elves, to a lesser extent) and the eladrin of 4th edition. Romulans are passionate and high strung, zealous and territorial, much like wood elves. The two are said to be descendants of a single race, much like all the elves of D&D sprang from a single master race that spread throughout the crystal spheres. I don’t know which came first – Vulcan/Romulan canon or D&D elven canon – but I have a sneaking suspicion that both have contributed to the others’ development over the years, especially during the 80s when I was a teenager.
Hindsight is 20/20
When I read back through this article, I notice I’ve pointed out the color of each elven subrace’s skin in my campaigns. I don’t know why I started doing that as a child, although I colored a lot of the pictures in my gaming books, and maybe it helped me differentiate what picture I associated with which campaign setting. I distinctly remember that when Spelljammer came out, I decided the “elves in space” were a separate subrace altogether from the planet-dwelling elves, and I gave them bright blue skin and made them all bald. (Don’t ask me why – I don’t remember.) It’s something I’ve continued in my campaigns to this day, and probably speaks to something in my subconscious I don’t wish to dig up.
The point is, I’ve spent a lot of time throughout my gaming career focusing on the differences between the elven subraces, because the gaming designers created so many different subraces, and I felt there must be a reason for it. Perhaps they’re a metaphor for mankind, divided into myriad nations with different skin color, hair color, religion, and social values, but all the same at the fundamental, cellular level. Elves are what we want mankind to be in the future – noble, accomplished, worldly, and spread out throughout the stars. Sure of our place in the multiverse, and confident in our abilities. United despite our differences. Aspiring for perfection, even if we never achieve it.
I think I want to be an elf.
