The Races of Fold: The Orcs

Orcs.

Orcs...

Orcs were a tricky one. They have such an iconic place as "the evil villain's mook henchmen", and as "savage humanoid X". Here are the three most notable examples of orcs in existing fiction.

In Lord of the Rings (the origin of 'orcs'), they're the savage foot soldiers of the dark lord Sauron; a degenerate, yet technologically "advanced" race supposedly derived from corrupted elves, who represent a spreading, malignant force of darkness seeking to overrun the world.
 In the Warcraft series of games, the orcs first appeared as an invading race of hulking marauders, hellbent on conquering the world of Azeroth. However, they came from the bizarre, alien world of Draenor, and were whipped into their frenzied state by demonic forces, and with the corruption lifted, they showed signs of returning to their native attitude; proud, noble (but savage) warriors, with a shamanic bent.
In the Warhammer series (specifically the grimdark future of the 41st millenium) the "Orks" are an aggressive, brutish race of marauders, who frequently head out on "Waaaaghs"; an unruly blend of a pub crawl, interplanetary brawl and Jihad. Their trademark ability is an innate psychic power that almost bends reality to their will in bizarre ways; such as red paint making vehicles move faster and meaning that their ramshackle, bodged technology actually works for them (for example; a human using an orc gun has a slim chance of it firing, an orc using the same gun will make it fire consistently... but only if he yells "DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA!" whilst doing so.)

Within D&D, they're often portrayed in a similar manner to Lord of the Rings; savage raiders often under the thrall of a demon or evil mage; or sometimes just a raiding party under the command of a chieftain. They're represented, in the terms of their abilities, as cave-dwelling (darkvision with a light sensitivity) with great strength, but reduced intelligence, wisdom and charisma. This almost immediately places them in the roles of melee combatants, and discouraging them away from spellcasting roles. Obviously, this isn't set in stone, they can be spellcasters, but they will be handicapped in comparison to other races. In the Eberron campaign setting (Yes, I know I keep harping on about it), the orcs mostly exist in wildernesses, forests and marshes and the likes, and historically were instrumental in defending Eberron from the invasion of the Daelkyr and the Quori (nightmare beings from another plane of existence). The orcs are the originators of a druidic sect known as the Gatekeepers, who helped banish some of the nightmare beings and seal Dal Quor away from "reality". The remaining orc tribes are highly shamanic, living at peace with the wilderness, and are often protecting it from the marauding "Valenar" elves. I personally love this reversal of archetypes, and while I want something like this, I don't want to rip it off completely.

Since I picked up D&D 3.5 edition around nine-ten years ago, I have often felt that the orc/half-orc was beaten with the short end of the stick, and was woefully sub-par in comparison with the other races. Hopefully my setting's version will give them something of a boost.
With the removal of half-orcs from my setting, this left me wanting to place my orcs in their stead, so I wanted them to feel more like a playable race, as would be found in the Player's Handbook. These 'common' races get a +2 to one stat and a -2 to another, a bonus to certain skills, a bonus to resist something and then a collection of individual skills relating to the race. For example, the dwarves have +2 Constitution (the measure of their health and hardiness) but a -2 to Charisma (the measure of their personality and social grace), and they're slower (but never slowed by heavy loads or weighty armour) whilst receiving bonuses to resist poisons and spells, and gain bonuses to skills relating to analysing and working with metals, their unique ability is "stonecunning" which grants them the ability to detect unusual stonework (hidden doors, traps et cetera); this paints the image of the hardy warrior and industrious worker the dwarves are famed for in fantasy. So, I had to think about how to make the orcs follow this template; what image do they need to portray?

I wanted my orcs to be big and strong, a genuine icon of physical might. But how do I offset this? Are they slower and/or clumsier (this would fit the musclebound dolt idea)? Are they weak-willed and rash (easily manipulated and controlled)? I settled on making them "stupid" by comparison, giving them a +2 bonus on Strength and a -2 penalty to Intelligence (the measure of their skilfulness and ability to reason); essentially casting them in the role of "big, dumb guy". Obviously this doesn't need to manifest as the thicky who speaks in the third person or some sort of pidgin language, but could be portrayed as someone who is a little more direct in their approaches to obstacles. My orcs are big, hulking figures, standing upwards of 6' and weighing up to over 300lbs, with females standing about 6" shorter and up to 50lb lighter. Their skin is a warty hide, varying between green-grey and brown-grey, with mid-greys being the most common tone. Their eyes are small and dark (often described as "piggy"), and are usually shades of hazel, brown or yellow, and peer out from under a heavy brow which slopes over a domed head. Their vision isn't terrible, comparable to a humans, but they do possess the ability to see in the dark, much as a dwarf does. Orcs are frequently bald, but have sparse hairs over their body, with females having a tendency to having hair upon their heads. Completing their ferocious appearance is a powerful jaw and underbite, leading to a narrow chin; their jaw also holds large teeth and two prominent tusks. The whole image of an orc is somewhere between some kind of simian and a brutish porcine creature. An orc's strong jaw muscles, and large teeth aid it in being able to chew and swallow almost any organic matter (including the odd bit of soil and rock), which their intense stomach acid will often break down into digestible nutrients. Scholars theorise that the ancestors of the orcs were some kind of scavenger species, and to this day, the race are still able to survive on almost any food and are highly resistant to spoiled, contaminated and even toxic foodstuffs.

Orcs are from a barbaric, tribal culture, grown from eons of living as savage hunter-gatherers in the wilds of the world. They gather around campfires and share tales of great deeds and mighty hunts; emulating heroes and warriors who either slaughtered or overtook rival tribes and conquered territory for their tribes. The greatest warrior spoken of in orcish oral tradition is "Gruumsh". A hnandful of theologians argue as to whether Gruumsh was a real person, a conglomerate of ideals and people or even one of the lost gods. Orc tales of him vary, but some key facts remain; he lost an eye in battle with an elven lord, he waged war with the elves trying to claim the forests, his warband were exiled from their home by dwarves and he was a mighty and noble, albeit savage, warlord. Some believe the legends of the elves and the dwarves are simply an excuse by the orcs to pursue aggression against these races, as they occupy the two terrain types that the orcs favour; mountains and woodlands. Since the start of the great industrial revolution, and the subsequent turmoil in which nation's have clashed over designs and advancements, orcs were being left behind by the other races as they didn't share the need for progress or the drive to develop; they were content in their ways. When humans began using orc territories as outposts, even building fortifications, the orcs stepped in and retaliated. One particularly heated battle resulted in the human construction being completely levelled. Rather than being angered, the human leaders saw a potentially formidable force, and approached the orcs more diplomatically, offering them baubles and trinkets in exchange for fighting for them. The orcs agreed, though it is uncertain if they did it for the baubles or simply for a love of violence, and as time passed, they became used more widely as "berserker units" in armies, as well as bodyguards and, stranger still, saboteurs, owing to their unexplained facility with breaking objects. To this day, orcs are often welcome in groups of adventurers and tomb raiders purely for their ability to break open doors and chests, as well as being used as bodyguards and even thugs. Even in a world where dwarves are prized as being hardy, determined fighters, hobgoblins are disciplined and martially trained from youth and warforged offer a unique toughness and relentlessness, the image of an orc bodyguard or mercenary group still conjures an image of ferocity and power. Orcs are a highly intimidating people, and often practice "being scary", regardless of their occupational calling, as a means of getting their way; and often, the stronger and more physically imposing an orc is, the better he is at it.

Outside of their "employment" in the modern societies of Fold, orcs still live in semi-tribal groups; gatherings of extended families and clans, often within slum districts of a city. This is not to say that no orc is rich, it is just rare to see one living as a noble would; they share their wealth with their immediate family first, then the rest of their community second. Orc communities are led by the strongest, toughest and sometimes meanest member, and while merit is proved through strength, they recognise that without their community, they wouldn't be as strong. Often, this "chief" will be advised by something akin to an elder, or a shaman, often a druid, or sometimes a cleric, in the veneration of Gruumsh, and sometimes in the lesser "religion"; D'zl. The worship of Gruumsh's 'divine spirit' revolves around strength and power; to excel, one must prove he is the biggest, baddest he is. Orcish rituals held under Gruumsh's name are often little more than glorified riots and attempts to claim more of a settlement as part of the "orcslum"; fortunately these festivals are a rare occurence. Truly devout, and often zealous, worshippers of Gruumsh will put out one of their eyes in homage to the warrior, and in some cases this leads to the orc unlocking previously untapped abilities, and it is believed that these individuals carry the blood of Gruumsh in their veins. The worship of D'zl on the other hand is often seen as a more peaceful tradition... Relatively speaking. D'zl is chronicled as being some kind of progenitor of orcish ingenuity and artifice, which is to say, their ability to disassemble things and attempt to rebuild them. Orcs are not crafters, but often try to rebuild things, especially if it could benefit them, and as a result of their slight mental hindrance, the final product is often ramshackle and/or dangerous. Orc buildings, while sturdy, are rarely pretty, and their attempts at much more complex items, such as clocks, steam engines and firearms, are prone to malfunction... And explosions. D'zl, according to legend, stole numerous technical designs and taught the orcs to build them and "improvements" and even stole the dwarven designs for an internal combustion engine in the distant past. Given how recent the industrialisation has occurred, some doubt the veracity of these legends, but don't doubt that facets of them are true. D'zl, as a religion and/or idolised figure, seems to revel in destruction and chaotic accidents; orcish demolition crews often ask for the blessing of D'zl before beginning work, and consider themselves to have "been ignored" if something isn't on fire by the end of the working day. That said, D'zl is not used as an excuse for rampant, anarchic destruction; every act of destruction must be balanced by, or at least pave the way for, creation or progress, but is still seen as a chaotic faith. As Gruumsh worshippers are seen as traditionalist, and D'zl devotees are more progressive, it is rare that they will work cooperatively, and many see a true union of orcs as a warning sign that something akin to the hordes of marauders and barbarians is going to recur.

• Attribute adjustments: +2 Strength, -2 Intelligence;.
• Race: Humanoid (Orc)
• Speed: 30ft
• Size: Medium
• Darkvision 60ft
• Weapon Familiarity: Orcs can treat Orc Double Axes as a martial weapon.
• Orcs treat Intimidate as a class skill. At 1st level an orc may choose to apply their Str modifier to Intimidate checks instead of their Cha modifier. This choice cannot be changed after 1st level.
• Orcs receive a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against ingested poisons and diseases contracted though consumption of spoiled, contaminated or 'disease-causing' foods. Orcs can also be fully nourished by spoiled/inedible foods and by most organic matter.
• Orcs receive a +2 racial bonus on Str checks made to break objects and on attack rolls made to Sunder objects. This bonus also applies on Str checks to break out of bonds.
• Automatic Languages: Orc, Common
• Bonus Languages: Goblin, Giant, Dwarf, Gnoll
• Favoured class: Barbarian

Races of Fold: The Dwarves

Previously I spoke briefly about the basics of the races of D&D. Now, I wanted to do something special with my setting; I wanted to keep the races familiar, but with a twist. Something to make them stand out, but not wanting it to feel arbitrarily tacked on in an attempt to shoehorn interestingness into them.

The dwarves presented an interesting challenge, as they are such a stalwart fantasy race, with such an established image, and this whole stigma attached to them of being obsessed with beards, axes, gold and beer; it's arguable that many games have existed where an axe-wielding dwarven warrior who is immensely proud of his facial hair and almost constantly drunk has been the centre of attention at the table. Now, I'm not saying I don't like the idea of the dwarven warrior with his axe; it's one of those iconic images (harking back to Gimli from The Lord of the Rings), but it doesn't have to define the race. I'm not against them having a cultural relationship with beer or gold, but again; do they need to define the race? I think what I'm railing against so much is the "race of hats" ideology that crops up in sci-fi and fantasy so often. Again, referencing Eberron, they included this idea that the "Dragonmarked House Kundarak", the Dwarven Dragonmarked house, was in charge of banks and loans and finances (and associated security) within the continent of Khorvaire. I like this idea that dwarves are involved in accounting, and it may be something I incorporate.

So, what do I think are important aspects of the dwarven race, considering the abilities they're given in D&D? First and foremost; they're granted an increased Constitution (the value by which their health, hardiness and physical fortitude are measured) but a decreased Charisma (the value by which their interpersonal skills and force of personality are measured), suggesting physical toughness, but a guarded, brusque or blunt manner. Despite being smaller than humans and as such, slower, they're not slowed by heavier armour or loads, and they are given "darkvision" the ability to see in black and white in dark environments, which ties into the concept of them living underground, and as such, I see this as possibly the most important aspect of the dwarven race. They live underground, but why? There are ancient eldritch horrors and cruel humanoid races in the depths of Fold... Perhaps they evolved to where they are from an earlier lifeform? In connection to my world's creation story (more on this later), dwarves are derived from giants; specifically bred to be smaller without sacrificing too much strength, to venture into the deepest caverns to mine ore for the giants, which brings me to the next point; they have this affinity for working stone and metal, even the ability to detect unusual stone workings (such as hidden stone doors, stone-based traps etc.) and can even determine how deep underground they are as easily as a human can tell which way 'up' is. I went about thinking 'How do they do this? What kind of biological advantage would provide this kind of "sixth sense"?' This lead me to thinking about about fish, who have sensory receptors that detect electrical fields of other creatures in the water, and the barbels (the fleshy whiskers) on some species of bottom-feeding fish, such as catfish and the plecostomus species, and how these sometimes appear as a moustache and/or beard on these creatures. Plus I'd been watching a lot of Farscape at the time... And as such, my dwarves lost the iconic beard and gained barbels (tipped with some hairs), which grant them the ability to notice subtle changes in electromagnetic fields, even granting their own minor magnetic field (which can explain their racial bonus to resisting certain spell effects). And there we have it, we have the appearance of my dwarves. Though, this is still in its R&D stages, and being refined as a visual.

Now, culture, where to take this? The "planet of hats" preconception for dwarves is one of a race of loutish, blunt, beer-swilling, bearded brawlers with a severe hatred of goblins. Now, the D&D 3.5e sourcebook "Races of Stone", goes into some detail concerning dwarven culture and psychology, but I know not every D&D player will either own or have read this fully. Suffice to say, the entries regarding the dwarves have inspired some thoughts. First, I want to focus on their underground life, and how this would affect a society. First and foremost; clothing, without access to flax for linen, cotton plants and probably sheep fleeces, they're very limited in terms of materials. Races of Stone posits the use of underground roots and similar plants, probably leading to hardy but rough and uncomfortable articles, and also the use of fungi to make a kind of silk, which I find a little far-fetched (even for fantasy), however, I've no doubt that underground there is a plentiful supply of cocoon-spinning grubs from which silk could be derived, as well as the cured or tanned hides of various beings, such as reptiles and moles. Clothing would ostensibly be practical and hard-wearing, as an underground lifestyle would lead to a neglect of finery (dark, possibly damp conditions, potential hazards that would damage such items), probably sticking to muted earth tones, and colours that matched the type of stone they live near.
Second, I want to touch on the 'boozing' aspect of dwarven culture; I'm not saying that I don't agree with the idea of them being fond of drinking regularly, but it shouldn't be the defining characteristic. Also, where does an underground race get malted barley and hops from? As such, I turned to a throwaway gag from Dragon Age: Origins, made when Oghren the dwarf berserker you meet tells you about how much he loves surfacer beer, marveling at beer made from wheat, commenting on how beer in Orzammar (a grand dwarven city) is made from fungus. Beers, wines and spirits made from fungi, molds and subterranean plants all the way, and in a culture that drinks to celebrate another day ending, which leads to my next idea.
The dwarves are a race of dichotomies; they're immensely serious and prideful workers but as soon as the working day is over they like to unwind in large social groups, with communal bathhouses. They're also incredibly withdrawn around strangers or outsiders, but share openly with close family and friends, making them strangely gregarious and sociable, but they are oddly guarded about themselves as a result of their lack of personal privacy. And, either because of these close familial bonds, or the bonds resulted from this, the dwarves place a lot of honour on veneration of your ancestral line, and the 'collective' ancestral concept of the Forge Father, a deified figure connected to their love of crafting and the protection of the home; telling of the dwarves' lack of any traditional kind of god, even before Godfall. Dwarven homes are often, but not always, a married or bonded couple working in tandem, with one living as a breadwinner and the other as 'homekeeper', but this isn't exclusively a male-female divide. The breadwinner will often be working in the forges or mines, or as a warrior or sage, while the homekeeper obviously maintains the home (seen as an honourable deed owing to the cultural emphasis on family) but is also in charge of finances. No household has two breadwinners, for that is the highest taboo. Dwarven education is often undertaken by the homekeeper, but is also publically provided by the clergy in their communities, as well as some scholars and genealogists (frequently Bards and Archivists), and sometimes even Wizards and Druids.
Dwarven weapon selections are unusual given their underground lives. The favoured weapons of warriors are various kinds of axe, though spears are sometimes preferred. Axes are typically seen as tools for chopping wood, and require space to swing, so would be unsuitable in confined tunnels, which is where spears can be more useful. That said, the caverns beneath the surface are often vast and spacious, and one weapon overcomes this; the urgrosh, a combined axe and spear. Hammers are seen as a little more sensible, being favoured by their Clerics and priests, something of a metaphor in their positions as teachers, as hammers are tools frequently used by carvers, sculptors and smiths.

In dwarven society, life is regimented into 'classes'. I will admit now, I have taken a lot of inspiration from Dragon Age for this, as while the dwarves in this were visually very dull (short humans with big noses), their culture fascinated me. In Dragon Age, the dwarves are born into their caste (Noble, Merchant, Warrior, Smith, Scholar, Casteless and Surfacer) and their children share their caste. If a Warrior were to marry a Noble and produce a child, the child would share the caste of the parent with the same sex (Noble mother, Noble daughter, etc). I wanted something similar, but different for my dwarves. There's a caste system, in that certain jobs and professions are regarded more highly than others. There is no caste that is seen as being 'scum' or worthless; everyone has a place within society.

The dwarves weren't actually seen by humans until a century or two into the Age of Mortals, and not until some exploration into the subterranean caverns of the world unearthed giant statues with an abstract and highly geometric interpretation of bearded, stout humanoids. Further expeditions revealed vistas and cities designed in a similar fashion, from the very stone itself, before eventually the first contact was made. Initial reports listed dwarves as being bearded, hence numerous jokes regarding facial hair as opposed to their actual barbels. Now, they are frequently found on the surface, usually as industrial workers, traveling merchants, mercenaries or 'guards-for-hire' or representatives of dwarven trade families.

The Races of Fold

Well, a world needs lifeforms to populate it, right?

And having just one kind of being would be boring, right?

It's a staple of the fantasy genre to have different kinds of sentient being living in a world. Most famously and most obviously, we have Tolkein's Middle Earth; populated by the proud and noble elves, the burly dwarves, the bucolic and cheery hobbits or halflings and the vile and warlike orcs. China Miéville's interesting and offbeat Perdido Street Station had the stoic and reclusive Catacae, the matriarchal Khepri, the froglike Vodyanoi, bird-headed Garuda and the impish and puerile Wyrmen. These two series are both fantasy, but both are so very different. Tolkein's masterpiece is seen by some as very much a product of its time; a "boys' own fantasy" if you will, and deals very much in blacks and whites, the questing heroes and cruel villains, while the other seeks to cast off that coat and make a grimy, urban sprawl of a tale, with seedy underbellies and moral ambiguity.

Dungeons and Dragons was originally not unlike Lord of the Rings. Men, elves, hobbits (referred to specifically as halflings to avoid legal problems) and dwarves fighting orcs, trolls, ogres, dragons and evil wizards. In recent years this can still be the case, as players take their elven ranger, dwarf fighter, gnome illusionist and human druid to fight an evil vampire lord and his cabal of minions in some forgotten tomb, or go traipsing through a cavern to fight evil beholders. Some players and Dungeon Masters (DMs) try to go against this grain and emulate political strife and intrigue, or encourage urban-based investigative games, with their half-orc sorcerer trying to fight his brutish heritage or a halfling trying to prove that not all of the wee folk are tricky thieves. Again, I'm going to reference Eberron; this setting caters for both schools of playing. The continent of Khorvaire (the main landmass of the setting) is highly urbanised in places, and there's plenty of room for industry, politics and investigation (there's even a class that makes you not unlike a private investigator), but there's also this wonderful sense of a world still to be explored, as other continents still hold artefacts from the ancient past, during times when Eberron was overrun by nightmares and demons, and even a mystery continent that is ever-changing and holds relics of the ancient giant empire. Many of the standard D&D races in Eberron have been altered slightly to fit. The elves are largely the same, but also there are a secluded nation of elves who worship their dead ancestors, many of whom still walk and hold council over their people, or another who raid sections of Khorvaire, as the shamanistic orcs try to hold them off. Gnomes are ace shipwright, halflings live a tribal life on grasslands that are rife with dinosaurs and hags and ogres maintain a savage, impoverished society where humans are subjugated.

So, over these last few years, the ideas of Eberron and Bas Lag (China Miéville's setting), I've re-fluffed the races to suit the feel of the setting of Fold. So, with that in mind, what is the feel of Fold? There's a big emphasis on industrialisation and urbanisation, as well as a lot of influence drawn from mythology and folklore.

Humans: Well, what's to say? Humans are humans. They get everywhere, breed quickly and are impossible to get rid of!
Dwarves: They fit very easily into the setting. Industrious workers with a knack for stone and metal? Perfect.
Elves: Haughty and proud tree-huggers? Noble aristocrats? Savage hunters? Elves were tricky.
Gnomes: Sociable and magically-inclined? This seemed perfect, but I've had some trouble getting these guys right.
Halflings: Small and agile, halflings seem very fitted, but their fluff also has a lot tying them into a nomadic life, so these guys took a little working.
Orcs: I've gotten rid of 'mundane' half-breeds, so there are no half-orcs or half-elves. The orcs have become a prominent and populous race, though mostly through raiding and stealing the technology of other races for their own.
Goblins: Originally savage nuisances, I wondered how I could make them believable as a culture in such a setting. I'm pretty pleased with the results.
Warforged: An Eberron race; artificial lifeforms in constructed bodies, crafted for war. They fit the Eberron setting, what with its 'magitek' and recent 'world war'. But they also suited the flavour of my setting, and I've been working on making them similar to Eberron, but with a twist.

Each race will get a spotlight soon.

Cities of Fold: Tallowport

My Fold setting started simply; a single city, used in a number of games, where it evolved, adapted and grew. Initially it was a simple port town; a little scummy and dangerous. It then became a larger trading hub and port town, until it became how it is now; a large industrial metropolitan seaport and market hub, as well as a religious mecca for scores of the faithful. Other settings have cities like this. Forgotten Realms has Neverwinter and Waterdeep, Eberron has places like Stormreach, Sharn and Aundair and the likes. Now, I will admit, Eberron has been a big influence on some aspects of my setting; but I've done my best to avoid aping it completely. I like, particularly, Eberron's pulp fiction atmosphere, and the idea of the 'City of Adventure', which is something I've tried to make with Tallowport. There's criminal gangs, secret cults in the sewers and catacombs, an entire industrial district beneath the streets, full of construct workers and dark corners, and dark secrets above the pavements.

Tallowport, in the setting, started as a small fishing port, which became more and more prosperous, able to support a sizable market, which of course drew more and more attention, and people flocked to it to utilise the trade and travel opportunities of the port. Of course, the melting pot of diverse cultures that resulted was volatile, and this 'neutral' place was soon fraught with violence. Cue the entrance of The Church of St. Cuthbert; a religion that had splintered off from the Order of Illumination, a religion that had skyrocketed in popularity amongst many humans and nonhumans alike (More on religions later). The Church of St. Cuthbert, while sometimes draconian, managed to arbitrate a peaceful solution and arranged for fair and equal trade for all visitors and residents, and even moved to allow religious equality. The Church, of course, became the major power; the clergy working alongside the city guard, adjudicating in legal matters, even setting up the town's ruling figure; the Prince Bishop. The vast majority of established religions are allowed to practice openly and have a street level temple, though a number of the darker or more secretive faiths chose to operate in hiding, despite the amnesty provided. This move caused an even greater influx of people, causing the town to grow even further. Then, the industrial revolution started, and the forges, smithies and workshops began to grow, and foundries, factories and plants popped into existence; even expanding the city over 'unusable' terrain such as boggy deltas and the likes; even spreading the town beneath the earth; tapping into previously unknown geothermal power sources. Industry flourished; bringing even more people, causing even more growth, especially as the dwarves started showing up, bringing their expertise and skill.

Tallowport thrived, and Tallowport became 'that city'. The city where almost anything is possible, and a story is happening around every corner. Bloodthirsty pirates, slaver rings, political corruption, monsters in the sewers and who knows what else?

What is Fold?

Hi guys, name's Jesterface, and this here blog will be, hopefully, a journal of my D&D campaign setting as I slowly add to it and build it up. The world has been named 'Fold', which is Hungarian for 'Earth'. A bit weak when you think about it, but I was struggling to come up with a name that 'felt' right, and didn't seem arbitrarily fantasy-world. Fold began simply, as an excuse for me to run a steampunk D&D game, and eventually expanded to be more 'early industrial revolution'. Think something not unlike Iron Kingdoms (the setting for the Warmachine and Hordes game by Privateer Press) and the Albion of Fable 2 (and a splash of Fable 3). This was part of my efforts to lose the 'Victoriana' that so often comes attached to steampunk, and something that had lost its luster to me, and I didn't want to abandon that high fantasy/medieval flavour that D&D typically has. Obviously, there's a heavily European influence on the setting, as it's hard to not include what is essentially 'my history' as part of this world, as much as I'd like to use other cultures more predominantly. Well, I hope this is a little interesting to folks. There'll be more to come, and with any luck, there may even be doodles to go with it. ~J