For some context: Within Dungeons and Dragons, Kobolds are one of the weakest humanoid races presented in the books. Over the years, they've become something of a joke as DMs use them as a low-level minion creature to throw at beginning characters. They rarely become a credible threat, or even seem "playable" for a character. Books were published that gave the kobolds some absolutely amazing fluff and character, as well as some options to make aspects of them seem playable (which are highly abusable if one chooses to attempt optimisation). I wanted to make the kobolds seem a lot more playable and balanced in my setting, as before they had very little in the way of abilities and suffered a massive -4 penalty to their strength score. The alterations to their stats have generally received positive feedback as being solid and playable without breaking any sense of power balance.
For some background on the origins of kobolds: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobold
The dragons of Fold are a formidable force; their motives often
inscrutable to anyone except another dragon, and their power matching
and sometimes surpassing the Titans and the giants of old. Their skill
in arcane spellcraft and their sheer physical might in battle are both
unquestionable. They hold ancient lore and hoard vast collections of
treasure. The only thing keeping their numbers in check is their
in-fighting; almost bred into them from being hatched in large clutches
who must then conquer their clutchmates to survive. Their frequent use
of an ability to adopt a humanoid form has led to them producing dozens
of humanoids gifted with their innately magical bloodlines and is
theorised to be one of the sources of sorcerous ability in many races.
One race, however, claims that it is directly descended from dragons,
and professes supreme sorcerous power because of it... Much to the
dismay of many dragons. They are the kobolds, small, wiry reptilian
humanoids found in two environments; temperate hills, filled with cave
systems and tunnels that link to the deeper world within Fold, and the
searing deserts of the Wastes. Kobold communities are a genuine commune, where everyone contributes and wyrmlings are raised by the collective adults, and all are led by a
chieftain, almost exclusively a sorcerer of some power. Kobold chieftains run their tribes with the advice of their selected council; these advisors are often priests,
artisans and the occasional sorcerer, something between a rival
and a protegé of the chief; their aim is to replace the chief, but
also to learn their secrets. Kobold artisans have a strange reputation
for making items of exacting quality, but never making them in a
particularly exquisite fashion; as a race, they hold utility and
function above form and decoration.
Kobolds in general possess a paranoid and suspicious outlook on the world, which is reflected in the preferred "artform" of both the mountain and desert races; traps. Kobold traps are simultaneously ingenious, simplistic and barbaric, and often rely on something heavier than a kobold to be triggered (meaning they rarely have to worry about their own traps). Due to their insular nature, kobolds
have incredibly tight-knit communities and are rarely seen outside of their territories, those few that are seen
frequently are either designated envoys, or exiles. Exiles will
sometimes find employ in the mines of other races, or possibly as
"security experts". These so-called security experts are either used to
test the defenses of mansions, palaces and tombs, or to provide the
'security'. While they aren't seen as being anywhere near as savage as
the orcs, or possessing the reputation of the goblinoids, kobolds are
rarely found in the same numbers or in positions that grant them
prestige or high regard. Kobolds will rarely cause trouble in a
community, and if exiled will often "adapt" and try to blend in, feeling the need to recreate the sense of community they're used to, though
some will be incredibly withdrawn and will cling to the ways of their
people.
Mountain Kobolds
The "Mountain kobolds" have claimed an existence in the mineral rich
mountains just below the freezing Northlands, where their underground
mines and tunnels maintain a warmth from the earth itself. Being a
cold-blooded race, they tend to avoid moving to the surface unless
necessary, such as when they need to hunt or maybe trade some of their
mineral wealth. While dwarves are unmatched in their skill of working
with stone and metal, kobolds are supremely diligent in their efforts to
mine the materials; even a wyrmling is trained to hold and swing a pickaxe.
Kobolds are quite a xenophobic race, and while willing to trade for
supplies and riches (they share their ancestors' love of pretty baubles
and coins) they avoid other races as much as possible, even cruelly
dispatching trespassers, unwitting or otherwise. Their fear and paranoia
has led them to lay numerous traps within their tunnels, to the point
where trapmaking is an artform. Should the traps fail, or if
no other option is available, a kobold will fight tooth and nail
(literally) to defend its home, but a kobold understands that its size
and relative weakness will do it no merit when pitted against larger
beings. Kobolds make up for their size by fighting with guile, and with
large numbers; a kobold community will often band together to drive off
intruders.
Mountain kobolds are small, rarely exceeding 3ft in height, and rarely,
if ever, weigh more than 50lbs. Their scaly hide (called squamae) is
strangely velvety, though bumpy and comes in various shades of orange
and tan, often mottled with greys and browns. Their heads are broad at
the back, but lead to a narrower snout. Their typically green or
yellowish eyes are large and slightly protuberant, and the orbits are
topped with six bony projections. Kobolds are a primarily nocturnal
race, and coupled with their subterranean life, this has led them to
eschew the sun almost completely; a kobold out in the mountain sun is at
a disadvantage. A kobold's mouth is a considerable part of its skull
and contains many sharp, needlelike teeth, and a slightly stretchy
tongue which grants them a surprisingly powerful bite, should they need it. Another feature of the kobold anatomy are the surprisingly resilient claws on their hands and feet, as well as unusually textured pads that seem to provide an almost indescribable ability to find purchase on tunnel and cavern walls.
Kobolds dress in utilitarian, hard-wearing clothing; for them
work and toil is part of everyday life and ostentation and finery is to
be left for special celebrations. Non-kobolds find it near impossible to
differentiate between male and female kobolds when they're dressed in
their 'work clothes'. In a typical community kobold priests will lead their community in worship of Tiamat, the now ascended and cosmically-empowered "goddess" and forebear of the chromatic dragons,
proclaiming her the great progenitor of their race. Unlike most
venerators of the Queen of Scalykind, kobolds don't make aggressive
attempts at conquest and plunder, believing their diligent digging and harvesting
of the earth is a fitting tribute of claiming wealth in her name.
Desert Kobolds
Within the scorching sands of the great Wastes surrounding the nations
Kashia and Denfise, the land is scoured for water and the remaining
relics of the ancient and collapsed human empire that lived there.
Between the hazards set by the terrain and climate, explorers, nomads
and adventurers are often beset by beasts of the sands, all seeking to
slake their thirst, but there lies a less obvious threat; the desert
kobolds. Through sheer luck of reptilian physiology, kobolds seemed
oddly well-adapted to the desert lifestyle; they need heat to maintain a
number of bodily functions and their incredibly efficient usage of
energy and water means they don't need to eat or drink anywhere near as
much as a human, or even a gnome or halfling. Desert kobolds live within
the foothills and badlands of the Waste but, unlike their temperate
cousins, they don't live underground as predominantly. As such, their ability to see in the dark
is lessened, but they aren't as hindered by the sun. Their society is
largely similar, but they are less inclined to dig for riches, often
choosing to waylay travellers and caravans for their riches instead.
This is less a sign of being braver or less paranoid, but more an
indication of a slightly more foolhardy nature, possibly even a stronger connection to the avaricious nature of many dragons. That said, these kobolds also
have something of a knack for finding food and water in the desert, and
can often be encouraged to aid other races in exchange for gold, jewels
and similar items, though their skill pales somewhat when compared to
the ability of the goblinoid bhukas.
Desert kobolds are stockier than their mountain analogues and have a
much rougher looking and slightly spiked squamae, and bear a strong resemblance to some of the desert species of agamids. Their heads are flatter and broader, with
similar spiky protusions to their mountain cousins above their eyes, which are smaller and less
prominent. Their mouths and claws are just as dangerous though. Their
hide is usually a sandy colour, though stony greys and beiges are often
mottled or marbled through it, with some individuals possessing flashes
of vibrant earthy reds, oranges or yellows and their eyes are often
shades of yellow or brown-green. Desert kobolds have the unusual ability
to flex their muscles and skin in a way that makes the rougher and more spiny edges
of their hide stand prominent. This is presumably some kind of defense
mechanism against larger predators snatching them up, and often utilised as such.
Desert kobolds do not share the mountain kobolds' cultural bent for
mining, and as such do not train in the use of a pickaxe, but do possess
the same affinity for traps, owing to a similar xenophobia. Desert
kobolds are also cunning and wily enough to utilise the landscape
against their foes, understanding the terrain and flora of their
homeland as few others do. Traps used by the desert tribes often involve the terrain features either as a natural trap, or as a way to make their victims more likely to hit their devices.
My blog for discussing/sharing ideas from my attempts to construct a Dungeons and Dragons campaign setting.
Showing posts with label underground. Show all posts
Showing posts with label underground. Show all posts
Wednesday, 8 July 2015
Friday, 17 January 2014
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 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.
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