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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Set" data-source="post: 5092463" data-attributes="member: 41584">Ooh, I love that! Also Kerrick's notion of Gruumsh-as-Odin and Orcs as Viking raiders! My own tweak;Elves As 1/2 elves are to elves, so are elves to an elder fey race that can't exist in this world without sickening and dying, being of otherworldy spirit-made-flesh, and unable to live long outside of the Seelie realms. Even the most arrogant better-than-thou speciest elven lord is but a bastard polluted with the blood of earthly creatures, and considered a rustic, rude and sullied cousin to the *true* elven lords. They produce half-elves quite deliberately, using them as a servant caste and go-betweens with the other worldly races (men, dwarves, etc.).  Elves regard their racial penalty to Constitution as a sign of 'pure blood' from their otherworldly heritage, as their bodies have not fully crossed over from spirit to flesh.  Like the anemic nobility of Europe, considering their infirmity a sign of royal blood, the elves take pride in frailty and poor health, considering the suspiciously healthy among themselves to be too full of mortal blood and too strongly tied to the ugly world of mud and flesh.  Such people are considered 'rude' and crude and unattractive, and elven women are known to enhance their beauty in the eyes of other elves by ingesting small doses of poison to give themselves paler features and unhealthy drawn faces, signs of 'pure blood.' Elves, befitting their fey heritage aren't just 'chaotic,' they are, by human standards, insane. They have (and desire) zero control over their emotions and their reactions, and can veer from manically enthusiastic to bloody-minded violence in a second, reacting to some perceived slight or threat that those around them might not even have noticed. An elven warrior lives the life of Elric of Melnibone, murdering those closest to him, as a result of his wildly out-of-control overreactions, and being just as likely to fall into an overwrought display of grief, regret and self-loathing seconds after brutally beating down an ally. Moments later, the storm of passions fades, and the elf looks down with cold, alien eyes at his former 'best friend' and goes on with his immortal life. Their fires burn hot, fast and all-too-briefly, making them seem almost like caricatures to human companions, who learn to stay out of sword's reach, as the elven passions may not be controlled, but they can at least be avoided, as they burn away as quickly as they flare up, allowing the non-elf time to get clear while the elf has his little freak-out. Attempts to 'tame' or restrain these passions within an elf are physically damaging, as toxins build up within the brains and bodies of the elf unable to vent their passions, causing their skin to darken until they enter a fatal stage called 'drow' in the elven tongue. Once the skin is dark from the toxic build-up, the elf enters a permanant state of crazed violence and sadism, and the state never ends. Rumors that entire communities of elves trapped in this state exist under the earth are, of course, nonsense. How could such a gathering even exist, as wild and frenzied as they are? Rubbish, really, the speaker says with a nervous laugh.</blockquote>

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