These are Elves of a different sort. Not quite a new take. The HighFather is the father of all his race. He is immortal, powerful, and a strong physical presence. His memory is quite powerful- it is the races way of immortality - to be remembered by the HighFather.
I was spending some time reading some Rune Quest, Changeling, and Castle Falkenstein material and remembered why I hated most of the Trolls found in the majority of “Psuedo Medival, Eurpoeanesk Fantasies”. So once again, I charged up my rant muscles and….
Since the New Look At Dwarves was such a success, I decided that I would try an overhaul of another fantasy standard which I find boring, the Orcs. I’m using the Orcs only as a very loose base.
This is a compilation of the races of Hewdamia. Each is unique in their own way with certain strengths and weaknesses.
I don’t know why we are the outcasts of the lands. We out number the others and our armies are superior. We fight no more than the other races have in their historys. Why do they have contempt for us? It is because they fear us, the fear that we are better.
Keil Ooma - Drunkard Mercenary for Hire
These people could exist on a world with mythical elves, as they are not another race… they are humans. They are an ethnic group that is far removed from “normal” human stock. They have many traits (physical and cultural) that make them very different. Given Lyran culture and ways, if the Lyrans “went away”, a few hundred years later people would think of Lyrans the same way as we think of Elves… some strange mythical peoples.
This is a listing of every minor race write up and ideas to someday be expanded into full lifeform write ups.
Originally High Elf blood. A band of warrior type high elves moved north to the “Settlements” where they could fully exploit their warrior natures. Intermixed with a dwarven and gnomish tribe, with tales of several half-orges.
The PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.