To the Stars

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Spoilers…of Genius!

As I mentioned yesterday, Pathfinder’s Second Darkness Adventure Path has arrived, with Greg A. Vaughan’s “Shadow in the Sky” kicking things off.

Since this blog tends to deal in issues of subraces and cultures, here’s what’s of interest to us. But if you’re a player, hold off reading, because this post has some spoilers.

The Good
The major elven subraces split as a result of a coming cataclysm. Some left the world of Golarian to escape it, some stayed sheltered from it in remote jungles and the polar regions, and some were caught up in it. Some of these latter would become drow after exposure to radiations from Rovagug, god of wrath and destruction.

I like this a lot, because it recalls the elves of Tolkien, who sundered into subraces because of their varying degrees of love for and engagement in the world, and whether or not they answered the call of the Valar. Hooray for giving a nod to the classics!

Drow have tapped aboleth magic capable of pulling asteroids out of orbit. Now that’s just cool.

Elves who turn to great evil spontaneously become drow. I guess great minds think alike, because last month I suggested a similar transformation. But my suggestion was to have it happen in a directed manner—as the result of a curse or as a punishment inflicted by elven society on outcasts as they were to be exiled.

But to have it just happen spontaneously? That’s simply awesome, and it takes my idea a step further than I'd been brave enough to take. (That’s why I’m a fan and the Pathfinder guys are professionals.) Imagine cornering an elven antagonist and have him suddenly morph into a drow right in front of you! Now that’s good adventuring.

Note that not all evil elves necessarily become drow, which adds a further layer of mystery and suspense—where is the line? What foul acts or vileness in spirit tip an elf over the edge into darkness? I'm eager to see how this plays out.

The Bad
Drow are purple. Yep. Dark purple. Dark blue or gray, too.

Yikes. But I guess I can’t blame Paizo. Truly black skin must be hard to paint—every artist who’s tackled the drow has had to wrestle with this one. (Downer was definitely gray. Jeff Easley made Drizzt so light in some pictures he was practically cream!)

Oh well. Dark purple it is. Bring on the evil eggplants!

Second Darkness

The Second Darkness Adventure Path has come to Paizo’s Pathfinder. And as the series name portends, drow are the main antagonists.

You might assume I’d be down on this prospect—I do call my little blog here On Beyond Drow, after all—but you’d be wrong. I’m thrilled.

In the foreword to “Shadow in the Sky,” Editor-in-Chief James Jacobs does some talking about the history of drow in D&D and fantasy—from Hall of the Fire Giant King to The Crystal Shard and beyond—and their growing popularity over time. What he then goes on to write is revealing and heartening. I quote him here (without permission, but with much respect and interest):

Of course, with such sudden popularity came the to-be-expected backlash, and today you can hardly mention drow in the presence of gamers without sparking an argument. Some players love playing drow characters, while other players won’t play in a game that allows drow PCs. Some GMs love the concept of “renegade” drow who have turned against their sinful ways to become champions of good, while others gag and gnash teeth over the very concept. Even the name riles up gamers—there are at least two good ways to pronounce the word, and I wouldn’t put it past someone to come up with a third and a fourth. No matter how vocal people get about drow, the fact remains that everyone knows about them and everyone talks about them.

Sound familiar? It reads an awful lot like my long-winded editorial in the Comments section of my first OBD post. He goes on:

So they seem like a perfect choice for the villains of Pathfinder’s third Adventure Path. For those of you worried that the next several volumes are going to descend into angst-ridden, misunderstood dark-elf heroes, let me repeat myself.

The drow are villains.

During the course of Second Darkness, you’ll meet more drow NPCs than any other race, and I can pretty much guarantee you that they’re all going to be bad guys. The drow of Golarion are not to be trusted. They worship demons. They’re slavers and sadists. They perform hideous experiments on innocent victims. The drow are back to being evil, in other words.

As a result, you should encourage your players NOT to play drow characters in this campaign. I fully understand the attraction of playing a drow. Hell, two of my own favorite characters that I’ve played are drow (one of them even ended up in the Shackled City Adventure Path!). Playing a misunderstood hero who’s forced to live with the fact that her heritage brands her a villain can be quite fun and rewarding—but Second Darkness isn’t the place for drow PCs. If a player wants to play a misunderstood hero here, try to talk them into playing a half-orc. Or a goblin. Or a half-fiend. Or even one of the other Darklands-dwelling races, like a duergar or a troglodyte.

Drow can be PCs in all the Adventure Paths after this one. For now, though, give them a chance to be the bad guys again.

The folks at Pathfinder and Paizo get it. They managed to avoid using drow as main antagonists throughout five full Adventure Paths in Dungeon and Pathfinder. And when they did decide to use drow, Jacobs’s foreword indicates that they’ve done their best to rethink them, reapproach them, and most importantly, make them evil—not dark, not Gothic or Romantic (note the capitals), and not cool—truly evil. Drow are a mystery in Golarion—even most sages don't even know they exist—and by nixing drow PCs, the writers are returning mystery to the race. If well executed, the revelation of drow in Golarion could be almost as shocking a moment as it was when Gygax created them decades ago.

All in all, it’s a great start, and I’m excited to see what comes of it.

Other Dark Elves We Like: The Shadow Elves

Sit down, my children, and I’ll tell you a tale from the days when D&D was Advanced D&D and “plain” D&D had a life and a setting of its own.

The Known World’s shadow elves were pale, but they were essentially drow, especially in early incarnations (such as in The Elves of Alfheim and The Orcs of Thar Gazetteers)—right down to Clyde Caldwell cover art picturing them with gray skin. In The Shadow Elves Gazetteer, we discovered that they were more misunderstood than anything else, and that their main deity, Rafiel, was not the ogre we had assumed. (Most of the shadow elves that surface dwellers encountered were devoted to the bloodthirsty Atzanteotl, which explains the shadow elves’ poor public relations.)

Still it was a fascinating culture—purple-marked shamans, pterodactyl riders, a capital city reverse gravity-ed to a cavern ceiling, and a high temple that was actually—SPOILER ALERT—a nuclear reactor. Bizarre and wonderfully cool.

(The schattenalfen, the shadow elves’ cousins in the Hollow World, were more reliably evil—totally committed to Atzanteotel and basically downright wicked. But we learned little about their culture beyond that, sadly. And in terms of cool sidekicks, stunted, dumb red dragons totally lose to cave pterodactyls. Just sayin’.)

Other Dark Elves We Like: Dier Drendal

In our efforts to move on beyond drow, we’ve been sure to praise reinventions of the drow archetype, such as Keith Baker’s take on Eberron’s drow. Now let’s look at some other dark elves that we think hit the mark.

The inhabitants of Dier Drendal, from Sword & Sorcery's Scarred Land setting, are not drow per se. But subterranean elves forced to serve an evil, lead golem-bound god on a slowly trundling city beneath the earth?—wow, that rethinks the drow concept in some great ways. (Does anyone know if there was ever a sourcebook? Was it any good?)

While we’re at it, we should note that the Scarred Lands setting did a pretty good job with elves of all kinds, and anyone looking to cast elves in a new light in their campaign should try to dig up these books. Some of Scarn’s elves were the noble forest-dwellers of Tolkien, while the forsaken elves were the chaotic child-stealers of European folklore, and still others were truly decadent and debauched hedonists.

In fact, we should take this time for giving props to Sword & Sorcery in general. They were among the first out of the box to really tap the potential of the Open Gaming License. Their Creature Collections combined the stats of 3rd Edition with the well-rounded monster ecologies of 2nd. And the basic concept behind Scarred Lands—which one could easily and too hastily write off as blatant rip-off of Greek mythology (gods vs. titans)—blossomed into a truly interesting setting. Almost every monster had a reason for being, good’s victory was by no means certain, and many often overlooked building blocks of the D&D system (especially druids) got new vitality and breadth. A fine world that, while I never played it in it, I could never get enough reading about.

(Though explain to me again why gnomes in Scarn only appeared as psionic-addled pygmies? Oh right, because no one knows what else to do with them. Say what you like about the silliness of tinker gnomes in Dragonlance, Spelljammer, and the Known World/Mystara, but at least machinery gave them a defined character. Eberron’s elementalists and information-brokering bards was an interesting take…but I guess it didn’t (take, that is), since gnomes didn’t make the leap to 4th Edition as a playable race.)

Rehabbing the Drow: Eliminating the Spider Queen

As we mentioned in our previous installment of “Rehabbing the Drow,” drow identity is very bound up in the worship of Lolth. Remove her and the picture changes dramatically. Perhaps they all become good...or perhaps they simply become a different shade of evil.

Such was the promise when Eberron was released. Finally, we were told, drow who don’t worship the Spider Queen! What a notion! What possibilities! So who do they worship?

…A scorpion god.

*Sigh*

Actually I'm kidding. I like the drow of Eberron and Vulkoor a lot. Ordinarily, yes, I’d savage the concept as unoriginal—we've just switched genders and arthropods. But it’s actually perfect for the Eberron mission—make the familiar different, but close enough to the original so it’s still D&D. Drow are still into bugs, just not spiders; they’re still mostly evil, but not single-mindedly so; they’re still tough, but as fierce barbarians and sorcerers instead of as assassins and wizards.

(Yes, it’s a wee bit problematic to a have a dark-skinned subrace living in savagery south of paler cousins, but it works for the setting, so once again—see the essay tucked away in the Comments section of my first post—we’ll overlook any unintended and unfortunate real-world correlations.)

Plus, not every drow in Eberron is a scorpion-worshipper. The Umbragen dabble in the powers of Shadow (Dragon #330), and the Sulatar play with fire magic (Secrets of Xendrik). And having them regularly fighting giants make for outstanding imagery. All in all, the drow of Eberron are a nice tweak on the familiar…especially in a setting where most of the “regular” elves range from a touch too jingoistic to downright creepy.

(Props also to Keith Baker for giving giants their own continent and historical context—it revitalizes them like nothing else has since a few articles in Dragon #141 and the power boost they got in 2nd Edition. Well done!)

Silkworm Drow (Moth Elves)

Yesterday we discussed revamping drow in your campaign by making them all good. Here's what one such tribe might look like...

While “silkworm drow” is a useful term for differentiating these elves from their wicked cousins, they themselves would not recognize the term. Hailing from a land that has never known Lolth’s touch, these elves never fell from grace or earned Corellon’s curse. They therefore never turned to evil, nor bear the mantle of “drow.” Instead, they refer to themselves as The People of the Evening Wing’s Embrace. The rare outsiders who have contact with them refer to them simply as “moth elves.”

The reason for this name is clear. The lives of silkworm drow are centered almost exclusively around their silkworms (and the silkmoths these caterpillars eventually become). Silkworm drow live atop mountain ranges and hillsides with heavy woods, ample precipitation, and numerous caves—the ideal habitats of their moth charges. Just as normal drow take inspiration from spiders, silkworm drow incorporate wings, fan-shaped antennae, and geometric patterns (representing woven threads) into their art, architecture, and craft goods. Wormsilk produces moth elf clothing, bedding, and fabric of all kinds. Tough wormsilk rope and hammocks are bartered with other forest races, while delicate wormsilk gowns (sold through many layers of intermediaries) are in demand at royal courts the world over.

The origin of the moth elves themselves is lost in time. Though essentially good-hearted, they are reserved in the extreme, rarely associating even with the most reclusive wood elves. Their nocturnal habits and dark skins (ranging from dusky gray to jet black) speak to long separation from others of their race, as does they archaic dialect of Elven they employ. They also exhibit enhanced magical abilities (as per the drow)—though whether these abilities were once possessed by all elves or developed over time specifically by the silkworm drow is a mystery.

Even their creation myths set them apart from other elves, hinting at a marriage between the moon and a moth figure. Or the two might be one and the same, as silkworm drow swears (“By the Moon Mother” and “By the Moth Mother”) seem to suggest.

One thing is certain: silkworm drow are capable fighters. Though they prefer to sit at their looms, the woods are full of threats. Ettercaps, goblins, and bugbears are common enemies, and aranea are dealt with with extreme caution. Moth elves also often find their skies assaulted by chimeras. A platoon of silkworm drow lancers urging their giant moths into dogfights with such aerial predators is a sight to behold.

Rehabbing the Drow: It's All Good

If you want drow in your cosmology but are searching for a way to freshen them up, one option is to simply make them all good (or at least neutral). It’s amazing what that this one simple change can mean for their entire entry in the Monster Manual.

First of all, good drow naturally would not worship Lolth. They might worship the Seldarine, Eilistraee, deities from other pantheons, or entirely new patrons. Out from under a thumb of a bloodthirsty, chaotic deity, their society would be able to develop in ways vastly different from the Darwinian cities of Erelhei-Cinlu or Menzoberranzen.

Without Lolth, the drow affinity for spiders likely also disappears. If they retain that fondness, exploring why could be a fun challenge. Perhaps drow are renowned weavers, and years of harvesting spidersilk have built a bond between them and their eight-legged pets. Perhaps they live on cliffsides and canyons where spiders are the only reliable steeds. Or perhaps they have a strong druidic culture and prestige classes that focus on nature’s often forgotten or reviled children.

Meanwhile, drow skin color and light-blindness have been considered marks of their cursed status. If there never were any curse, is there a natural, environmental, or magical reason for these traits? Is it an adaptation to their cave habitats? And from whence do their magic resistance and spell-like abilities come? Or perhaps no explanation for black-skinned elves is necessary. Drow might even be the only(!) elves in your world.

Finally, we discussed previously, any change to drow as a race inevitably raises another question: what are the implications for driders?

It’s okay, of course, to simply get rid of them—if drow are good and not in thrall to the Spider Queen, driders are unnecessary. Alternately, drider status may be a curse (or a reward from Lolth or a similar entity) for the rare drow who do turn to evil. Disney’s The Little Mermaid actually provides this model—one only needs to look at Ursula’s octopus lower half to know that she’s the film’s villain. A good drow who falls from grace or accepts an evil power’s boon might become a drider in the process.

Tomorrow we’ll put these notions to work and create a good drow subrace—the silkworm drow.

Rehabbing the Drow: The Dalamar Paradigm

The plan here at On Beyond Drow is to present new subraces, tribes, and so forth on a Monday/Wednesday/Friday schedule. As the mood strikes me, I’ll also drop in commentary on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and/or over the weekend.

Having spent a vast tract of real estate in the Comments section of my first post dissing the drow—not for themselves, mind you, but for their unfortunate and inevitable overexposure—it is only fair that I suggest some ways to rebuild and refresh them.

One way is to focus on the literal curse of their heritage. In the Dragonlance setting, there were no drow. There were, however, dark elves such as Dalamar, cast out by their people for grave crimes.

Dalamar’s shame was a social and psychological one, but imagine if such an exile came with a physical transformation as well. Exiled elves in your campaign might have a grievous curse laid on them, their skin darkening and hair bleaching, so that their infamy would be visible for all to see. Their eyes would become weak, forcing them to hide from the live-giving sun. However, these elves would likely not have the typical drow’s affinity for spiders or innate magical powers of the drow (unless some evil power intervened to mock and reward them for their fall).

Because their existence would be the result of a curse rather than race, these drow might vary wildly different in temperament. Some might embrace the dark, consorting with demons and monsters (such liaisons may have been what earned them their exile in the first place). Others might quest for atonement. A drow paladin would make a particularly compelling PC in such a setting, and an entire campaign arc might revolve around his attempts to wash away the sin from his ebony skin.

This scenario also demands that the genesis of driders be reconsidered. In this cosmology, driders might not exist, or they might be a example of a further degradation—the ultimate price for drow who fail to redeem themselves.

Introduction

Most great D&D campaigns are defined by their villains. A heroine's legacy is shaped by the monsters she chooses—or is forced—to face. A land in the clutches of an undead tyrant breeds one kind of champion; a land living under the shadow of a dragon breeds another.

The drow are, in some ways, the ultimate villainous race. But their very power and popularity with DMs and designers alike have made them ubiquitous to the point of cliché.

In this space we will—to borrow a notion from Dr. Seuss—move on beyond drow. We'll create other evil elves for characters to fight. We'll come up with new subraces to stymie (and aid) your PCs. And we'll try to create cultures that feel alive, fresh, and fantastic.

By "we," of course I mean "me." This is a place for me to jot down and share ideas. If you're intrigued by what you read here, feel free to comment, contribute, and/or riff. Just be sure that if you borrow an idea, it's for your personal use and not something to be published or posted somewhere else. That's how intellectual property works. Cool? Cool.