Races - Elves

The Elves, who call themselves the Aelda, are the first and eldest of the mortal children of the gods. They are considered to be the fairest and the wisest of any mortal folk. When Tyrind trembled at the gods’ footfalls, the ancient elves of the north were given light and power to protect themselves and other mortal ken from the world’s ending. They have achieved many great deeds and created many wonders.

The elves have a strong affinity for magic and possess a deep, spiritual connection to the natural world. Elves are master artists, skilled craftsmen, and are as graceful in the arts of warfare as they are in dance and horsemanship. The paradoxical nature of the elven people causes many to call them haughty or arrogant, but in truth their eyes are open to both the beauty and the horrors of the world—they see themselves as pragmatic and alone possessing the wisdom to both combat the darkness and to preserve the light.

Overview
Ancient and inscrutable, cautious and capricious, slow to trust and loyal to a fault, elves are both familiar figures and beings of mystery and legend to most of Tyrind’s inhabitants. Given that they’re also breathtakingly beautiful—tall and lithe, with flowing hair and gracefully pointed ears—yet also seem detached and indifferent only adds to the mystique so many feel about the firstborn of the gods.

They are seen by other races as highly magical and mysterious, wise and beautiful. This awe and respect has an unexpected corollary, as many also view them as a haughty or shamelessly introverted as a culture. The reasons for this are broad; they range from jealousy, to fear, and even religious hatred. It’s in the nature of elves to elicit strong reactions from others, for good or ill, for it seems impossible upon first encountering the elves to react with anything resembling disinterest or apathy.

Given their long lifespans, some wonder why they aren’t all expert swordsmen, powerful wizards, master thieves, and expert artisans all rolled into one. The simple answer is that elves measure success differently from other people. Crushing enemies and amassing vast wealth are not worthwhile goals in themselves for most elves. Success is only found inward.

Language
The tongue of the elves has surprisingly little variation between elven cultures across the world. A speaker of the tongue can understand an elf from the glistening spired of Elvhanen the same as they can understand the nomadic sky elves of Eleroth, and the tribal Wild Elves of the far north. That isn’t to say there aren’t dialects; certain cultures structure their sentences slightly different, or choose to use different words or names for things. Thus, most objects or creatures or ideas have a handful of different names and titles, depending on who is speaking.

When spoken in the proper accent, Aeldish is described to sound like “silver sliding across a harpstring”. The language is beautiful and melodious, and spoken in an almost musical way. While only elves can truly “get it right”, any creature with vocal chords can be a passable job.

The elven tongue is derived from the ancient Sylvan language, which is still spoken today by the elvish clergy. Many elves learn Sylvan as well. The two languages share a common script, but Sylvan is far more wordy and complex. The grammars of each language are likewise very different, as many describe Elven translated to Common to be like poetry, while Sylvan translated to Common sounds broken and primitive.

Decline
While their numbers have been on a slow rise since the end of the Calamity War, the elves remain a people and culture in decline. The elven population peaked during the mid-to-late Second Age, in a time the elves refer to as “the summer of their people”. Since the Sundering and certain world events, from the defeat of the Demon Prince in Dharrenal to the destruction of the Sky Elves’ kingdom in Eleroth, the elves have entered into what they refer to as the “autumn of the elves”. The elves are common throughout the Emerald Expanse of Illan, but are far from common elsewhere in Dharrenal. Aside from those who pursue an adventurer’s life, most elves exist in communities consisting mostly of their own kind. The Sun Elves are not as xenophobic and isolationist as their Winter Elf kin or as gruff as the Wild Elves, but they are wary about interacting with outsiders all the same.

Though the city of Lasthome welcomes well-behaved outsiders, and is even partially overseen by human administrators, the Expanse’s interior is open only to elves or those who are specifically invited. This standoffishness is famous among non-elves, who often mistake it for arrogance and dislike, causing tension between their various cultures.

Despite many elves’ natural inclincation toward isolationism, Queen Gwyndolia has made several overtures to other cultures. Lasthome in particular serves as her political experiment. The queen’s radical ideas of building trade and other relationships with outsiders intrigues many younger elves, but are causing unrest among the more traditional-minded among them.

Physical Traits
Tall and willowy compared to humans, elves move and think quickly, though not impetuously. They stand between 5’09” and 6’03” on average, with no noticeable difference in height or build between males and females. The elves are less sexually dimorphic than humans; elven males cannot grow facial hair, and elves of all genders typically wear their hair long and loose. They are tall and lean, with striking features. They move with the grace of a spring breeze, their long legs moving with expert precision, soundless even in the densest forests. Their distinctive ears come to long, elegant points. This allows them to pick up subtle sounds that a human might miss; a common saying is that an elf can tell a type of tree through the sound of a leaf falling.

Even more distinctive are their eyes; they are slightly larger than a human’s eye on average. Their vision is sharp enough to notice fine detail even in dim lighting. As a result, elven homes are usually bright and airy during the day but dark at night, illuminated mostly through moon and star light. At best they make do with a single candle, a light spell, or more preferably, several friendly fireflies. Hospitable elves will brighten their homes if they have non-elf company. Those familiar with elvish customs can gauge the true feelings of an otherwise polite elven host by judging the light levels.

Elven eye, hair, and skin colors fall along a fairly wide spectrum. Elves tend to share skin color with humans in the same region; fair in Dharrenal, ruddy and tanned in Maezar. Some elves possess unique skin colors, such as the snow-white skin of the Winter Elves or the light green and orange skin tones of the Wild Elves of the far north.

Their eyes are usually of blue, green, amber, or violet, though other colors exist. Their hair color varies a bit; wood elves generally have darker hair suited to blending into the forest, while high elves often have bright, light-colored hair. Winter Elves almost uniformly have hair of black or dark blue, with the Wild Elves of the north possessing hair that changes colors to blend in with the thin forests and tundra from season to season. Many elves enjoy dyeing their hair unique colors, such as pink or blue or bright red, and many like to have streaks of color in their hair.

Green and silver hair are rare, but possible for elves of any lineage. Such hair colors are treated as omens; green hair often seen as an elf having a particularly strong connection to nature and to the earth, and silver hair perceived as being blessed or chosen by the Archeart.

Elves feel a strong connection to their natural surroundings that is deeper than a purely spiritual or aesthetic bond. Over time, elves’ physical features will come to reflect the nature of their home. This is the primary cause for the large number of elven varieties across the world; sun elves, moon elves, sky elves, winter elves, wild elves; they each develop their own physical traits and even their natural magics draw on this influence. For elves, communing with nature is a way of life. Their bodies reflect it and their souls embrace it.

Emotions
Mercurial and detached, somber and bemused, the famed elvish aloofness occurs for many reasons. Long life generally forces them to distance themselves from non-elves—those who maintain close relationships with members of other races quickly become burdened with a deep melancholy. Still, when an elf reaches a specific level of comfort with another they will usually drop their guarded demeanors and become more friendly. Elves highly value friendship, and they stick by their friends with a loyalty sometimes exceeding familial bonds.

The emotional extremes are a product of too many memories and associations. A rainstorm can remind an elf of a hundred good and bad experiences, a mix so complex that not even another elf can predict what emotion might take the forefront. To them, this is a beautiful thing.

Multiple lifetimes worth of sorrow and regret is literally a maddening prospect, and those who allow themselves to dwell on past misery tend to become locked in a spiral of depression and self-doubt. So with thousands of memories jostling around, elves usually try to focus on the good ones. They try to find new reasons to celebrate, and to laugh and sing with those they care about.

Life Cycle
Elves do not suffer the ravages of age the same way other races do. As some of the longest-lived of the mortal races, the elves reach physical maturity at roughly the same time as humans, but are not considered to be adults until at least age 40. By that point, elves have experienced enough and received enough training to embark on whatever life they want to lead. From this point on, elves pay little attention to the passing of time. At least not like other races. Celebrating one’s birthday is a strange custom to them.

Birth
A mother is able to become pregnant from approximately twenty years old until their deaths, though strangely never in the winter. Pregnancies last approximately twelve months. During pregnancy, the mother develops a bond with the child. At around four months, the child’s budding consciousness reveals itself to the mother. Over the coming months, the mother gradually begins to sense the child’s spirit and the potential people they might become. It is common for mothers to sing simple rhymes to teach their child the names of the local animals and trees, and to instill in them an appreciation for the world.

The mother will select a name for the growing baby about six months into the pregnancy, which the baby will recognize and accept. This name is kept secret until the moment of birth. The birth itself serves as the climax of a great communal celebration. Every member of a community joyously sings the ancient songs and chants handed down to them by the Archeart. Men and women, young and old; everyone attends the ceremony and witnesses the birth, and behold it with neither shame nor revulsion. An elf would recoil at the suggestion that birth is somehow unclean, or that it should be kept hidden from the world.

Elven births are easier on the mothers, who suffer very little pain. The exception is if the baby is half-elven. The nine month pregnancy, the absence of a pregnancy bond, and complicated, agonizing births are often dangerous for both mother and child. Elven birth mortality is next to negligent, while half-elven mortality rates are nearly 50%.

Childhood
During this time of an elf’s life, they are referred to as Seedlings. Childhood is a time for play and exploration, all carried out under the watchful eyes of the community, who are keenly aware of the hazards lurking in even the most tranquil setting. While elves value direct experience over second-hand learning, some things can only be taught.

While some minor tendencies exist, there are no enforced rules to which children are expected to adhere. A child is neither pressed into learning a family trade or adopting artistic traditions. Likewise, religious obligation and other philosophies and opinions are not forced onto the child, who is encouraged to explore and come to their own conclusions. Children learn to look for danger before exploring, to reciter the names of the trees and spirits, and to imitate their elders in the making of crafts, clothing, and tools. Although the child learns to recognize their parents, other family distinctions are unimportant. Children are allowed to form bonds to whatever adult they feel safe and attuned with.

Growing Responsibility
The thirty-year period between childhood and adulthood is important in shaping an elf’s character and determining their spiritual path. Elves call this time beryn fin, or “time of discovery”. Alongside their explorations of the world and their own selves, adolescent elves slowly take on the duties of mutual support and protection that keep a community together. The youths must master the basics of combat, and they must learn to keep themselves at constant attention during a long watch—not an easy task for an easily-distracted, questing young mind. Adolescents take part in foraging, farming, and hunting. During this time, they also learn to make things that are both useful and beautiful.

Coming of Age
The life milestone known as Coming of Age is different for elves than it is for other races, as it isn’t a measure of physical maturity. An elf reaches puberty at around 15 or 16 years old, and is physically mature at age 20. They still possess a relative lack of experience, however, and are said to be “in their spring”.

Instead, Coming of Age pertains to a spiritual maturity. To be considered “in their summer” as a true adult, the elf must experience The Brightness (see Faith, below). This typically occurs between the age of 40 and 70, though it can differ between individuals. In the very rare case where an elf does not experience the Brightness at all, they are considered in their summer by around age 120 or so.

Aging
As an elf grows older, they do not age in the same way as other mortal races. Their skin does not wrinkle, their hair does not thin or fall out. To non-elves, an elf of 25 looks nearly identical to an elf of 250. Of course, the elves will say that a 300 year old seems more regal and ethereal than a wide-eyed 100 year old, but most non-elves simply can’t tell the difference. The natural elven lifecycle is typically between three and four centuries.

Elves end up calling many places home over their lifetimes. To an elf, life is not about amassing wealth or power, but about knowing one’s self, forming strong relationships, and understanding the world. With this in mind, elves view most everything—even human dynasties that span a dozen generations—as fleeting.

When confronted with any foe or obstacle, elves are confident in the knowledge that time will probably solve that problem. A popular elven saying is that “One can can undo the harm of hesitation, but the echoes of words and actions cannot be so easily silenced”. To an elf, a five-year setback is more of a nuisance than a crushing defeat.

Death and Dying
Beginning somewhere between 250 years old, an elf enters into their “autumn”. Their blood begins to slow, their thoughts cloud, and their bones grow tired. To an elf, death is inevitable and integral to the cycle of the world. Just as new leaves grow every spring, they have to fall sometime. Even so, many find this time to be bittersweet.

These years are often spent in a quiet contemplation. They might spend them composing their memoirs, hoping their descendants will memorize and repeat them for generations to come. They might retreat to a hermitage or seek isolation to contemplate the nature of existence. A few misguided souls turn to the blackest sorcery to extend their lives. But most simply surround themselves with their loved ones and impart the wisdom they’ve gained, and take heart in the laughter of children.

An elf enters into their Winter during their third century, and while there is no physical change, many claim that an elf becomes more ethereal and "less bound" to the mortal world, even finding less joy and beauty in song and the things they loved through their lives. Many elves will often make a pilgrimage back to an elven community during this time if they are away, to live out their remaining years with their kin.

Burial customs do vary by culture, by on average elves prefer to be buried in the earth without casket or wrap, so that their bodies may nourish the earth. Where an elf is buried, it is said, a green tree will sprout that will never lose its color, even in the winter.

Society
Elven culture is among the most ancient, layered, and nuanced in Tyrind. Nary an hour passes that doesn’t mark some historic elven deed. Yet, despite that, elven culture is as mercurial as elven interests, and the result is a heritage none but another elf can every truly understand.

The You and the We
Elves revel in a dual nature. While conflicting ideas and paradoxical customs abound in their society, the most important is an idea they call “The You and the We”. Outsiders must understand this before they can truly know the elven mind.

Elves learn it in the cradle. At the risk of oversimplification, it tells them that they must balance their own identity with their obligations to the community. The duty of every elf is to explore their own identities, beliefs, and passions, and to pursue experiences. Their obligation to community is to live in partnership with others and to support their own quests for inner knowledge and greater understanding.

Always strive to understand yourself and the world around you, and never let another keep you from that goal. But you must also never let your own passions get in the way of your community and your obligation as a community member. These two pursuits are not contradictory. Without a community to support them, and elf can’t complete their quests for understanding. But without that knowledge and experience, an elf has nothing to offer their community.

To master the principle of the You and the We, an elf must become truly individualistic without a trace of selfishness.

Architecture
Elven architecture is a beautiful, awe-inspiring thing. To an elf, a building is little different than a tree or a mountain, and they strive to fashion their homes and other structures in such a way that they blend in with their natural surroundings. A settlement should add to the beauty and purity of the environment, rather than detract from it. The squat, functional buildings constructed by most humans strike elves as ridiculous and intrusive.

Doors, for an elf, are of particular interest. Traditional architecture is made to blend in with nature, so as a result external doors are often cleverly disguised into the side of a large tree, as a large stone on the side of a hill, and so on. Elven children quickly become practiced at finding and noticing such doors, and this skill follows them into adulthood. “Secret” doors built by other races often amuse the elves, with their crude attempts at disguise.

Artistry
Unlike the dwarves, elves value art of its own sake. An object of art need not be anything but beautiful to be worthwhile. The elves find joy in turning mundane objects into things of beauty. Strictly utilitarian things are fine, but a functional object with no beauty is considered unforgivably lazy and wasteful in terms of both time and resources.

One common thread that ties most elves together is a passion for aesthetic pleasure. It’s rare to see elves who aren’t dressed in a stylish manner, with exquisitely crafted but subtle jewelry, flourishes of silver and gems, and flowing fabrics with intricate patterns. Even their weapons and armor are gleaming and finely filigreed. Most see beauty as both a birthright and an obligation, and while they would consider it in poor taste to admit to strangers, they take pride in their physical appearance as well as their choice of style.

Their exquisite taste, patience, and long lives enable many elves to become consummate artists and craftsmen, creating works of which shorter-lived people speak of in awe. Yet while this devotion to art may lead some to become expert artisans or performers, elves see art and beauty in all things. The beauty of the perfect sword stroke or a flawless shot with a bow is every bit as beautiful as a painted landscape or meticulous sculpture.

Although they cherish the arts and have no problem applying themselves to rigorous study, elves disdain workaday endeavors such as mining or smelting, and often trade with humans or even dwarves for raw materials to satisfy their penchant for working with silver, crystals, and precious gems.

Music
An example of an elven folk song, which some claim dates back to the Dawn Era. It is said that the Archeart gave the elves three gifts--magic and music. Many say the second gift is indeed the greater and others say they are one and the same. Song and dance play an important part in everyday elven life. They find that music provides an outlet for their centuries of experience, pain, and joy. The elf that does not have at least some experience with an instrument or some proficiency in dancing is a rare being, and one might suspect that he or she is somehow emotionally stunted.

Elven songs of grief are often acappella wordless melodies. Those listening to such songs who are non-elves will find themselves in tears before the elves are halfway through, for the anguish expressed in the lilting voices of the elves transcends the human experience of heartfelt pain. Those who hear the elven mourning rituals are never quite the same, returning to the present sadder and somehow wiser. The sorrow that the songs express often haunts the listeners for the rest of their lives.

Much elven magic is bound up with music. The high mages often use song to aid them in forming there powerful circles, both as a way of focusing and of linking. Music is also an integral part of Bladesinging, which weaves magic, song and combat into a deadly mix. Some songs are magical in their own right. Spellsong is a form of magic that is uniquely elven, for example--and some say it is the oldest kind of arcane magic.

It should also be noted that music is also a form of historical record for the elves. The full version of a ballad may follow a storyline across the centuries and can be tens of hours long. The words are only part of the information – the melody and the accompaniment can convey a wealth of mood and imagery. Keeping the old songs unchanged is more than just preserving a tradition; it is a way of preserving the memories and stories of a race. According to their beliefs, the world came into existence through the intricate song of Grandmother Harmony, and it is through music unknowable that the universe continues on. Singing and music are common in elven communities, and all elves share a long of song and dance. While elves find beauty and entertainment is nearly all instruments, they have a special love of the harp, the flute, and the violin.

Freedom
Freedom—mental, physical, spiritual, social, and even romantic—is as important to an elf as air, water, or food. Few elves live in the same place for more than a few decades. At the same time, nearby elven communities remain deeply interconnected, and their inhabitants pride themselves on knowing each other on personal and individual levels. Most elves would never attempt to restrict another’s behavior or nature, so such relationships are mutually beneficial.

Elves don’t consider their lifestyles to be flighty or irresponsible, seeing even minor attempts at controlling another’s behavior as an insult—or even a sin. They expect others to respect their feelings, beliefs, and lifestyles in the same way. However, those same centuries of experience make them experts in many areas. An elf wouldn’t dream of telling their dwarven or human companion that their own experiences and feelings are wrong. But at the same time, they might be affronted if that same friend were to make a decision for the whole group with making use of their expertise.

Ilduliel
The intricate elven etiquette that surrounds their desire for mutual respect doesn’t mean that elves can’t disagree with each other, or that they don’t insult their rivals intentionally. Casting an enchantment on another elf, for example, might imply that he is weak and easily manipulated.

Such an affront can escalate into a form of feuding called “ilduliel”, which roughly translates to “nemesis”. During these fueds, elves meticulously plot to undermine their rivals’ accomplishments and endeavors. Such feuds rarely last for more than a century, despite their intensity, since elves find that time often erodes their need to crush their opponents’ dreams.

Family
Elves have a very fluid and community-based idea of family, and tend to view raising children as a group effort. As an elven child grows, they respect the authority of their elders as much as that of their parents. When elves reach adulthood, most consider it their duty to help rear the next generation. Elves view all elvenkind as their kin, regardless of blood relation or ethnicity.

Traditional elven naming conventions are complex. Each elf receives a personal name at birth, an intimate name known only to their close family, and a surname. Names are rarely monosyllabic, and feature an internal meter or rhyme. Most elven names are unisex; the elves find little point in differentiating named by something as trivial as gender.

With time, many elven adventurers extend familial friendship to their non-elf friends; they consider this friendship to be a bond as strong as blood. Many will gladly die to protect their kin, whether they are kin by blood or by choice.

Gender Roles
There are few differences or expectations between men and women in elven culture. Lines are meant to be blurred and distinctions are but a thing of temporary convenience and of little importance. The lack of distinction between men and women carries over into adulthood; both men and women frequently become warriors, for example. Both are equally like to play musical instruments, or dance, or pursue artistic endeavors. Both care for children and both genders are equally represented among the Archeart’s priesthood, as well as the ranks of arcane spellcasters.

In terms of less violent crafts, men and women alike enjoy things like woodcarving, pottery, weaving; anything that lets them work with their hands to create something beautiful. All this is to say, gender roles are, functionally, nonexistent in elf society. Do what you love and be yourself. Prejudice and expectations due to gender are arbitrary, irritating, and senseless.

Longevity
The longevity of the elves gives them a perspective that can be alien and often baffling to shorter-lived races like humans or gnomes. The elves rarely throw themselves into the conflicts of other people; they will not casually throw away their lives for “petty” concerns. They have seen too many vicious rulers fall with the passing of years, too many monsters cease to harass one town because new victims drew their attention, and too many oppressive governments lose their grip on a populace to spend elven blood to purchase victories that time will but for them in the end anyway.

Humans see the elven disinterest in these costly, short-term triumphs as aloofness but the elves only see it as pragmatism. Generally speaking, they are more optimistic about their own ability to change the world for the better, as opposed to humans or especially dwarves. They would rather spend their efforts shaping the land to support a settlement and teaching the people to adapt to the land, gradually creating a healthy, generous community than they are in rushing in to depose a petty tyrant. Healing the world is more than cutting out infections. Nobody understands the need to play the long game of building strength and nurturing growth better than the elves.

On the other hand, watching the same cycles play out ad nauseum can lead to boredom. The lure of the rare situation or concept that is new to them might lead elves to set aside their customary caution and take great risks in its pursuit. Elves don’t have that innate desire to complete something for the sake of completing it that humans or dwarves do. An elf might spend a decade working on a painting only to abandon it just before it’s finished because they have lost interest in it, or have decided to express their creativity in a different way. These traits can often lead other races to see the elves as capricious or aloof.

The elves are famously somewhat isolationist, emerging in force only when the fate of the world depends on it. They avoid other races for the most part, but this isn’t out of arrogance or snobbery. It’s a desire to guard their hearts. The cascade of deaths that awaits an elf who grows up in, or grows up near, a community of another race can drown them in melancholy and sorrow. The elves seek out novelty, life, love, and laughter, hoping to fill their days with wonder and happiness, and to minimize the tragedy of lost loved ones.

Love & Marriage
Elves from all walks idealize romance as much as humans, if not more so. Songs, stories, and poems are dedicated to this powerful force. Nevertheless, love is more frightening and fascinating to them than nearly any other topic. Young elves often seem fickle to other races because they are able to move on from one partner to the next without suffering the pangs of separation or unrequited love. Casual liaisons are a common and accepted part of life. An elf might have partnered with a number of people and feels no lingering sense of shame or awkwardness in their presence. They might fondly recall the joy on an old rendezvous but give it no more weight than they would a delightful shared meal.

Elves hold no double standards when it comes to coupling. Men and women are both encouraged to explore and express themselves. Children born out of wedlock are fairly common and face no special prejudices or difficulties in an elven community. Other races see this as shocking, fickle, and scandalizing. The folk tales and rumors they repeat are often much more exaggerated and colorful than the truth. To an elf, that sort of expression is just one small part of life, and no more odd than tasting the juices of a dozen different berries.

But physical intimacy and love are not one in the same. Love is sacred; it is not just an emotion, it is a state of being. When they feel true love, they feel it completely and wholly. Such wanton rendezvous become less desirable than spending time with the one they love. Love and cohabitation are common, but marriage is more rare. This is because elves take the commitment of marriage very seriously; it is a binding of souls and intertwining of fates. Thus, they can take decades or even more than a century to make the decision to wed.

Elven marriage ceremonies are often stately and beautiful, sometimes lasting for days. Poetry recitations, musical performances, and theatrical evens all retell the great love stories in elven legend. Non-elves find the protracted dignity of these occasions almost unbearable. The wild debauchery that begins after the ceremony, however, might surprise them.

Romantic relationships are often complicated and, to outsiders, largely undefined. Elves often refer to a significant other as “companion”, “partner”, or “deepest friend”. Other titles are used sparingly and only when they really mean it. Likewise, the elves do not have gender-specific term for a spouse; there is no word for husband or for wife. Instead, all elves refer to their spouse as Thiraman. The word translated, roughly, to “dearly beloved”.

Nonspecialized Communities
An elf community is far less structured than the settlements of other people. They are more often loose aggregates of individuals rather than a “proper” town or city, at least by human standards. Residents define their communities as a collection of people who share a common goal and work together when needed. Traditions are guidelines, not strict laws, and new ideas that offer better methods are always welcomed.

Elves are not specialized. That is, nobody really pursues a profession to the exclusion of others. There is no butcher, no baker, no candlestick makers. No smiths or armorers. Rather, every citizen will find or make what they need on their own. If an elf cannot accomplish something on their own, they’ll ask their community for help. For this reason, elves have little use for coins or material wealth in their own societies.

This does not mean that certain members of a community are not more skilled or passionate about certain crafts or ideas than others. For example, one elf might have a passion for designing and building homes, while another prefers to produce clothing. The two might agree to work together, with the first elf making a fine home for his friend and the latter producing a fine wardrobe in thanks.

Relations
Elves are slow to form friendships, but generally find it prudent to behave politely toward others because they know that grudges can last for decades or more. A popular elven saying is "Unpleasantness avoided is an enemy not made". This part of their nature combined with their almost supernatural beauty tends to endear them to other races, most of whom find elves pleasant and amusing companions, if a bit aloof and overly meticulous. Elven history has something to say about most of Tyrind’s major cultures, and most elves do little to hide the fact that they tend to take these assessments at face value. Fortunately, elves also tend to give individuals the benefit of the doubt before passing final judgement.

Though the elves and dwarves are fundamentally different and were known to war during the First Age, their lack of interest in each others’ territories or commercial pursuits have made conflicts since then rare, and their long histories and traditions have actually started to give them some common ground.

By default, elves tend to be apathetic toward their half-elf kin at best and condescending or spiteful at worst. They see them as “half breeds” and rarely tolerate their presence in elven society unless forced to. Likewise, the elves hold intense disdain, and even hatred, for half-orcs, who they rarely bother to distinguish from their monstrous, full-blooded kin. Half-orcs who act with honor and goodwill can earn an elf’s respect—eventually—but these are individual cases.

Their relationship with gnomes are complicated. Gnomes are quirky and erratic, and their whimsical personalities can baffle their elven companions. On the other hand, the elves are intrigued by the gnomes’ ties to the fey realms and appreciate their cheerful, optimistic demeanor. Elves may need occasional breaks from their gnome colleagues but generally they appreciate the company.

Knowing that humans are fickle and often driven by short-sighted ambitions, elves treat them with prudence and caution. Given time, however, like-minded humans and elves can become staunch allies, and some elves have come to adore the human passion and their focus on the moment.

Religion
Faith and spirituality are deeply personal. All elves hear legends of the gods when they are young, and all are exposed to clerics and rituals from an early age. What these traditions mean to an individual vary with their own experience. How services are organized, how strictly the holy words are followed, and the prominence of religious leaders and places of worship vary by culture, community, and even individual. Both pleasure and responsibility are considered less important than one’s spiritual progress. Elves do not draw a line between the everyday world and the realms of gods and spirits. The spiritual touch of the Archeart can be found anywhere. An elf does not simply listen to a priest talk about the Archeart; they go into the wilderness to feel their deity’s breath in their skin, to hear the words whispered into their ears.

All Elves worship and revere the Archeart, who is their creator. They showed the elves music, magic, and led many of their number to dwell with them in Seraphel. They also hold deep reverence for the Wildmother, the Moonweaver, and the Everlight. This isn't to say individual elves do not or cannot worship other deities; elves can be found among the ranks of almost any faith. But as a society, almost all elves hold at least some respect, if not devotion, for the above four "major deities".

The Brightness
The moment of epiphany when an elf’s spirit is opened up and their being is flooded with awareness of the divine is known as The Brightness. It’s the pivotal moment in any elf’s life. An elf does no describe it to anyone, even to their closest love or their children, except in the vaguest terms. In many ways, it they could not even if they wanted to. It’s hard, then, to say much about this instant of supreme mystery.

Each elf seems to experience it differently. Despite the imaginings of certain non-elf scholars and artists, who picture the event as some grand vision of a glowing avatar of the Archeart appearing to the elf, the moment is actually profoundly subtle and quiet. An elf might come to know the gods by seeing an especially sublime pattern traces into the veins of a crumbling leaf, or in the knowledge of imminent power during a thunderstorm, or perhaps in the gentle touch of a white stag by a pool of still water.

When an elf experiences the Brightness, they are transformed. They are declared to be in their summer, marking their newfound individuality by select a new name for themselves. Some elf cultures receive facial tattoos related to the moment. Regardless, the moment is when an elf becomes an equal to any adult in the community.

A few unlucky souls find that the Brightness eludes them, usually because they try too hard to force it. Many will eventually experience the moment a decade or three late, but a rare few never taste it. Growing bitter and frustrated with the loving pity they receive from their neighbors, these Malawain (or Unawakened) often choose self-exile, leaving the elven world to settle in foreign cities or wander as rootless adventurers. Malawain rarely admit their status, even to those who could not care less about elven spiritual development.

War
The elves consider war a last resort and since the shame of the Kin War they do not go to war with themselves; to spill the blood of another elf is considered a grave and damnable offense. Elves often try to settle conflicts with negotiation, persuasion, and compromise. But not everyone shares their “live and let live” attitude. Tribes of orcs, renegade dwarves, greedy dragons, and imperialistic humans will often refuse such attempts at peace. And thus even the elves must be ready when the war horns sound.

While regarded as a peace-loving people, the elves long history is filled with bloodshed and terrible wars. Even today, the elves spend their formative years training with the traditional weapons of their people. The elves are always ready to defend their homes with magic and steel should the need arise. While the elves do not march to war idly, when they do it is for a great purpose and often for the preservation of their people or the world as a whole.

Given their legendary skill with bows of all shapes, elven archers are generally highly respected and greatly feared. They often strike from trees, or otherwise hidden in their natural surroundings. After a rainstorm of arrows, enemies are met with flashing swords and expert thrusts from sturdy, elegant spears.

Most elf settlements augment their weaponry and defenses with magic. Alarm spells, Consecration, and other wards warn them of approaching intruders and provide soldiers with the ability to ready themselves and fight more effectively.

Folklore
The elves have an extensive oral history, with legends, myths, poems, and songs that are said to number twice that of the stars in the sky. The elves carefully preserve and pass down stories from one generation to the next. Elves have raised storytelling to a high art and nearly everyone practices it. Many elven tales tell tragic stories of flawed heroes, forbidden love, and sorrowful events of the past—though just many are triumphant, witty, and fun!

Below are just a few of the many, many, many stories, legends, and poems of the elves. More will be added as time goes on.

The Elf Gates
The most curious and fantastic creation of the elves are the Aiudara, or “elf gates”. Aiudara appear to be elegant, elaborately curves arches woven together from root and branch, and inlaid with special stones and covered with intricate carvings. It is said that the elf gates can transport travelers away from Tyrind to another world; some say they lead to the Feywild, others say they lead to the realm of the Archeart. Others still say they are only connected to one another, and that this would still allow great mobility; the user could theoretically step into one elf gate in Dharrenal and emerge through a second in Eleroth.

Today they sit dormant, and it is unknown how they worked—or even what they did, as described above. But no elf would deny that they were evidently vital to the elves’ dominion over Dharrenal and the civilized world in the day.

Elven legends from the First Age tell of their creation, crafted by an elven artist and magician named Candlaron the Weaver. This master artisan, who is also said to have created the first Moonblade, was said to have spent the last century of his life traveling to specific locations given to him by the Archeart in dreams and creating these archways. The elves of today do not have comprehensive records to where all of the Aiudara stand; legends state there are more than one score of such portals, but only six are known of today; three in Illan, one on the Moonshae Isles with the Winter Elves, one in Serephal, and one recently discovered in Casmaron. A seventh was said to exist in Vah’Lorien, in Eleroth, but since the destruction of that nation its aiudara is lost as well.

Finding more of these elf gates, or lore relating to them—especially how one might activate them—would be worth more than a fortune to the elves.

Fall of the Drow
After the Noldor left Dharrenal to travel to Seraphel with the Archeart, those who remained behind were collectively called the Wood Elves. During these ancient days, there were two great clans of elves: the Anar and the Isil. The Anar were fair of skin and dark of hair, and the Isil were of ashen skin with hair the color of starlight. Both had remained behind when the Noldor had departed from Dharrenal with the Archeart, and both were known as wood elves. Each chief was given a necklace of glowing white gems called the Eyes of Correllon, for even though they chose to remain the necklaces symbolized the promise that they were still the children of the Archeart, and would be under their protection. Unknown to even the gods, the primordial known now as the Spider Queen had begun to whisper to Leylas, chief of the Isil. She was plagued with terrible dreams of horrors beyond the black of night; a coming destruction that would ravage the world. She saw mountains bursting to flames, entire continents collapsing into the sea. A coming shadow that would eat the sun and the moon both. Troubled, she went to Turin, chief of the Anar, in the waning months of autumn and told him of her visions. Turin was righteous and powerful and good. He prayed to the Archeart, who assured both of the chiefs that no harm or destruction would befall them so long as the gods yet existed. The gods were steadfast in their love and power, and if they but had faith, there was no storm they could not weather together.

So it was that Turin was relieved and put his faith in the gods. But Leylas grew bitter and paranoid, wary of both the gods and of her kin. The Isil began to hide from the gods, using their magics to bind regions to protect them from both the light of Pelor and the Moonweaver. When Leylas was given a vision of the Archeart teaching the high elves secret magics, she grew furious. The gods had lied! They knew of an impending disaster and were preparing their favored to survive it.

Leylas roused the Isil, who had all been touched by the Spider Queen’s whispers, and met with the Anar. There, under the light of the full moon, Leylas and the Isil turned away from the gods. Turin grew fearful and angry, and he tried to convince her to repent. But Leylas would not be swayed, and in a moment of anger she slew him there in that holy place. The battle that followed would come to be known as the Kinslaying. The son of Turin, Taiken the Green, stirred the Anar to avenge their fallen brethren.

However, the Archeart would appear to the Anar and told them that justice would be theirs. The Anar should remain faithful and trust that the will of the gods would be done. Taiken refused to listen and he gathered his sons, and all swore upon both sun and moon that the Isil would pay for their sins. Thus marked the beginning of the Kin War.

At that time, Leylas led her people east, away from Illan. As they left those ancient forests, the Archeart appeared to them with terrible anger. They laid a curse upon the Isil and for spilling the blood of the Anar called them Drowa—traitors. Ever would the sun burn their flesh and never would they be able to return to the Emerald Expanse without falling into madness and despair. Leylas spit at the feet of the Archeart and said, “If we cannot walk in the light of the sun, then we will be the Moon Elves. Begone and good riddance.”

The Isil would settle in the valleys at the feet of the Katol Mountains in the east, where their magics would shield the entire kingdom from the sun, turning their land into a realm of eternal night. They called their new home Xandir. They would turn their backs on the gods entirely and they would curse the name of the Archeart and turned their worship to the Spider Queen alone.

Hearing the tales of the Kinslaying, a number of the Noldor turned their eyes and hearts back to the land of their awakening and wished to join the Anar in their campaign. All but 10% of their number would leave the golden city and sail east in their swift, silver boats. Those who remained were called Eladrin, “the faithful”.

The Noldor were accepted with gratitude and song. The Noldor used the magic taught to them by the Archeart and from the branches and the earth itself wove the stunning city of Tir Na’Lia in the forests of Illan, which would become the center of elven culture. From the Emerald Expanse, the elves would march on Xandir. Many battles were fought in those darkened lands, lit only by the artificial moons and glowing insects. The Kin War would last one hundred years and ten days, until the battle known as The Harvest of Sorrow; Taiken would meet Leylas on the field of battle. Tales tell of their ten day battle, of singing steel and driving rain, of courage and strength and power untold. Each would slay the other and only a tenth of the elves who took the field would ever leave it.

The daughter of Leylas, Brigid, would return the Eye of Correllon to the Anar. Overnight it seemed the massive Walls of the Moon raised and surrounded Xandir, sealing it from the rest of the world for a thousand years. Though the war was over, the animosity and the wounds remained and fester to this day.

Tir Na’Lia
During the Kin War (see above), many of the Noldor returned to Dharrenal to join the fight against their treacherous kin. Despite the war going against all that the Archeart had told them, some of the gods still felt mercy for the grieving elves and admired the Nolodr’s courage and resolve to leave Seraphel to aid their people. In this spirit, the Everlight was said to reveal the location of the Vale of Gondoladen to the Nolodori lord Andurin in a dream. Under this divine guidance, Andurin journeyed for one year until he found the valley among the slopes of the Mountain of Rains and east of the River Isirion. He found here a sweeping plain with groves of tall trees, with sheer walls on all sides and a ravine and tunnel leading out to the southwest, which he would call the Unseen Road. In the middle of the vale was a steep hill that he called Amon Dorthonian. There, Andurin would found a great city that would be protected by the mountains, a home and sanctuary for his people. The first elven city—Tir Na’Lia. For the next fifty years, Andurin and the high elves built the city in secret. After it was completed, almost the entirety of the high elves would settle here and three quarters of the wood elves as well. For a thousand years and more it would stand as a testament to the power and glory of the elves; it became a center for culture, art, music, and magic.

When the Dawn War broke out, Tir Na’Lia acted as a haven for the elves from all walks. Its unique position in the Vale of Gondoladen allowed it to survive the earthshaking war, granting the city almost legendary status among all people from across the world. Its beauty and splendor was unmatched and unfathomable in all the world.

It would not be until the Sundering that Tir Na’Lia would fall when it was betrayed by Durothil the Nightstar to the One-Eyed Fury. The mountains themselves would be rent and torn aside, as an ocean of orcs and giants and dragons crashed into the city. For countless days and nights the battle would rage on, until the elves were forced to retreat. Tir Na’Lia was sacked and would be reduced to little more than a memory. Many elves still sing of the great city, and some believe the city could be rebuilt and reestablished even today.