Pellatarrum: My Dwarves are Different

Society
The most important thing to know about Pellatarran dwarves is that they're happy. This doesn't mean they're cheerful and whistle all the time, or that they can't be cranky bastards (they frequently are), but they aren't the pointless, doomed race that so often crops up in fiction. They live in a paradise of their own making, an unassailable continent-sized city-state of endless crafting, filled to the brim with other dwarves who know everyone else's business. They have a purpose to their lives, and that gives them joyful hearts. If they are not mining, crafting, or building, they are exploring the depths of the Underdark, which is where most of their warriors learn the art of combat.

Fully 90% of all dwarves live in the Dayspire. Of the rest, 5% are either colonists or splinter sects who have set up a home in other places of rich mining. 4% are either traveling merchants or diplomatic representatives of some kind. The remaining 1% are criminals, exiles, adventurers, or insane (sometimes all of the above.)

The best way to imagine dwarves in Pellatarrum is to compare them to ultra-orthodox Jews of Germanic descent who are now living in Israel. Think Fiddler on the Roof, but with mining and battleaxes.

If anyone on Pellatarrum has invented gunpower, it is the dwarves, and that technology would be considered a state secret and guarded with fanatical jealousy.


Language
The specifics of the dwarven language are discussed here. 


Physiology
Pellatarran dwarves are still short and stocky as per usual, but their hair is made of ultra-fine threads of metal (so when a dwarf has the name "Copperbeard" he almost always has a beard made from actual copper). These are typically precious metals like gold, silver, copper, or platinum, or useful metals like iron, lead, nickel, or tin, but every so often a dwarf is born with a truly rare or unusual hair type like titanium, vanadium, or cobalt. These dwarves almost always have great destinies.

Only truly destitute or outcast dwarves would ever consider selling their hair for money, as it is a symbol of their clan and is representative of their family's fortune. It is a great degradation to un-beard or otherwise shear a dawrf against their will (equivalent to rape*), and those who do such a thing -- assuming they were tough enough to win the fight in the first place -- will be hunted down by the victim's family and butchered without mercy.

While it is rare for dwarves to cut their own hair, it does happen. Typically this is done between lovers or family members, who will grow out a special strand, cut it, and then weave or smelt it into jewelery. These tokens of devotion (whose name in Dwarven translates to "a piece of me, for you") are considered priceless family heirlooms.

Dwarven eyes are similarly odd. Instead of the usual pupil-iris-sclera found on humans, dwarven eyes have just the pupil on a sclera the color and consistency of semi-precious opaque stones. According to legend, the Shapers of dwarven lore had actual gemstone eyes: emerald, ruby, diamond, sapphire.

With the exception of the quartz, all of these are acceptable dwarf eye colors.

When dwarves die, they do not rot; they petrify. Dwarves are never buried with their armor, weapons, or other treasures, for those belong to their families. Instead, they are buried within tombs or sarcophagi of stone, where their flesh and blood can become one with the earth from which the root of the dwarven race sprang.



*Shaving the body of a dead dwarf is seen as disgustingly perverse, a la necrophilia, and no decent dwarf will engage in it or countenance its usage.

Languages of Pellatarrum: Dwarven

(This article would not have been possible without the contribution of Demonic Bunny)

It is accurate, if uncharitable, to describe the Dwarven language as "the sound one makes when gargling a mouthful of pebbles suspended in a pint of phlegm." Gutteral and frequently monosyllabic, at face value it appears to be a tongue ideally suited for manual laborers who dislike conversation and prefer to express themselves through a series of grunts, harrumphs and growls. While this summation is indeed technically true, it misses the driving force behind all dwarven endeavors: concision.

To a dwarf, perfection is achieved only when there is nothing superfluous left to be taken away, and this philosophy is reflected in everything they do, be it engineering, art, or language. Just as they do not believe in needless ornamentation, neither do they believe in talking more than is necessary. The shorter and more concise the sentence, the closer it is to perfection. Density of information and efficiency of transmission is merely a happy byproduct of this philosophy, but it is one that dwarves are happy to utilize as if gives them a decided advantage both at the forge and in battle.

Such concision carries over into their written language as well, which uses ideograms instead of an alphabet. While this provides similar information density -- in the space most races need to write a word, dwarven can contain an entire sentence -- it makes learning to read and write the language much harder than learning to speak it. Written Dwarven is extremely angular system (imagine Chinese inscribed with a chisel) and is slow to adopt new words, for each ideogram must be specially crafted by a master smith and then approved by a council of elders. This process can take centuries.

Fortunately, where Dwarven truly excels is in the expression of numbers and formula. Their mathematical systems are superior to those of any other race, and are the easiest to understand and use (compare Roman vs. Arabic numbers as an example.)

Dwarven is rich with deep throaty sounds, and many core concepts such as "help me," "I am injured," or "I love you" can be communicated with little to no motion of the jaw. (There is an Elven joke about an old dwarf king who, while sitting on his throne, had a severe coughing fit. His subjects nodded grimly, drew their weapons, and cut each other's heads off.) Properly spoken Dwarven sounds like a mixture of Russian, German, and Hebrew, and when translated into Common their clan names are typically translated as "Copperbeard" or "Stoneaxe." Due to their close-knit communities and belief in family before individual, dwarves always list their family name before their given one.

The dwarven preference for concision exists even in naming and honorifics and the shorter the title the most exalted it is.* A family member, or one who is deeply impressed by another dwarf, would refer to him with a shorter (and therefore loftier) title, suggesting that in the speaker's mind the dwarf is without flaw.  Conversely, using a longer title than is warranted is insulting as it suggests the addition of unnecessary decoration. 

Now imagine a dwarf talking to an elf, who are well-known for their flowery prose. Not only was the creation of ambassador races a necessity, but this long-standing tradition of "words seen as insults and terseness as high praise" goes a long way to explain the dwarven reputation for irritability and surliness.



*This is reflected most accurately in the dwarven title Smith. No word has ever been as misunderstood, as it is not a true translation of the "smith" concept as used in elven, orc or draconic. In the Dwarven language, a Smith is most accurately translated as "someone who can expertly shape materials". To be considered a Smith you must have mastered not only what is traditionally considered smithing, but also three or four other craftsman disciplines as well.

The title of Smith, because of its simple perfection, indicates a lofty ideal. Lesser titles are more wordy, as they require more specific words. For example, a blacksmith is one who can only shape the metals, but a Smith can shape that and more.

To other races, dwarves seem obsessed with smithing, basically giving the title of Smith to all of their highest officials. What they fail to recognize is that the Smith in charge of the temple might only be average at blacksmithing, but he is a master of dwarven politics. To dwarves, shaping truth and life is also a form of smithing, and not that different from shaping gems or metals.

The only title higher that Smith is "Shaper" (one who can shape all things), but that is a title too lofty for a mortal, and is reserved for those dwarves of legend who designed and formed Pellatarrum in the Engines of Creation millennia ago.

Pellatarrum: Broken River 5

(Editor's note: the lateness of the Broken River series is entirely my fault. I was sick for a large chunk of October, and had little desire to proofread Mike's articles... or do much of anything, really. )

Broken River

Part 5: Kobold House

by Mike (Rhishisikk) Kochis

Purpose
In this article, we start weaving the disparate threads together, in the form of Kobold House. As mentioned, each nonhuman race has a maximum of a dozen members. Eight of the kobolds in Broken River live in Kobold House; the kobold outcast (yes, kobolds have outcasts too) resides at the Grey Shovel, a boarding house/tavern on the "dirty side" of town. But let's cover Kobold House first.

Kobold House
It is no secret that kobolds are the most loyal, most devoted, and most obvious servants of the dragons. Part of the kobold reputation as devious, backstabbing, trap-making, child-stealing, poison-using murderers comes from this devotion, so that when kobolds are seen, most folk see only their masters. Dragons, who are known for sometimes eating their foes, are feared and not well-liked.  The rest comes from them being murderous, backstabbing, devious trap-makers who steal children and like using poison.

One hundred and twenty years ago (several generations), there was a pogrom against the two kobold tribes of the town. It may have had something to do with a stable burning down where the two tribes squared off against each other and some visiting goblins. Or the fact that one of their chieftains had (allegedly) taken to wearing the skins of townsfolk. Or that the other had (reputedly) eaten a gnomish child alive. Whatever the reason, the commoners decided to have two words with the kobolds: lynch mob.

Their numbers depleted by back-alley fights, poisonings, and other shenanigans to which rival kobold tribes are prone, and with both chieftains dead or dying, the remaining kobolds did the unthinkable: they trusted their enemies. The remnants of the rival tribes agreed to put their feud on hold until the troubles passed, and took shelter under the floorboards of an abandoned building. 

That alliance remains to this day. The kobolds were hopelessly cross-bred within the first generation, and every member of the current tribe professes to serve both dragons (neither of whom actually reside within Broken River). Although Kobold House has the resources to support double the number of adults, the number of secret allegiances, mistaken poisoning of allies, deliberate poisoning of enemies, attacks by their children (who rightly think they are abused), and the other uncertainties of life keep their actual numbers where they are. This confusion is compounded by their current chief, whose name in Common is rendered as Summoner-of-the-Greatest-of-Dragons (yes, he's our level 2 summoner). Please observe how there is no qualifier given as to which dragon is actually the greatest; this is deliberate. 

The inhabitants of Kobold House serve both the Brilliant Dragon and the Shadow Dragon (see below) in that they ostensibly follow the will of and advance the agendas of their twin masters. However, the Dark has a greater hold on these kobolds than the Light, as the politics of Kobold House is a tortuous, labyrinthine thing of deception, double bluffs, and triple agents. The kobolds are so wrapped up in pretending to serve and yet not serve both dragons that it is likely they themselves either don't know, don't care, or are actually insane (even by kobold standards). Their chieftain actually is insane with a complex form of Air Disorder: he has at least two personalities, each of which fervently believes it loyally serves only one master and feigning obedience while plotting the overthrow of the other. 

One kobold,  a level 1 expert known only to townsfolk as "Grippi," lives well away from Kobold House and has decreed that he will not knowingly serve either dragon. As a consequence, he is generally unemployed and otherwise miserable, but at least he's sane.


Why Grippi?

Grippi the Outcast has been a popular NPC in most of my campaigns. The out of work "monster", hated by even his own people, pulls at the heart strings, and Grippi has made a wonderful henchman and accomplice for several players. When I knew that the kobolds of Broken River were just insane, I knew that Grippi, the last sane NPC kobold in Broken River, had to be in attendance.

He provides the "half rogue" that many parties need to pick locks and disarm traps, without being so awesome that he overshadows the PCs. His natural humility, knowledge that nobody else is showing him kindness, and kobold tendancy to worship his "boss" also plays to the PCs as the center of the action. And he's willing to work on the cheap...

The Dark Dragon
When people in Broken River complain about "the dragon", they're complaining about Doomwing Dark-Drake, the black (acid) dragon who lives somewhere in the river delta. Although he's known to have ties to piracy, he doesn't permit it to affect "his" infestation of humans. Also, he is still bound by ancient contracts with the halflings and sea elves to keep the river clear of pirates between Broken River and the sea.

Doomwing won his contest with his rival for this territory by a daring (reckless) mid-air collision, followed by a plunge into a swamp lake (rumored to be his main lair) and a near-drowning. Recently, he has stopped recruiting kobolds (although he still keeps a few hundred around) in favor of a once-small tribe of lizard men. The "dragon tax" they collect at night has become obnoxious to the sheep farmers of Broken River's southern regions.

Doomwing is an avid collector of pottery, fine china, and flatware. His crowning treasure is a teapot of huge size, enchanted to heat its own water. Visitors normally contact him through the lizard men, and he meets with them in the main square of their village deep within the swamp.

Nobody knows (beyond piracy and smuggling) what Doomwing's ploys are, which leads locals to associate him with the Temple of the Dark.


The Brilliant Dragon

Songmoon River-Dance, commonly called the Brilliant Dragon by kobolds, is a green (sonic) dragon not local to Broken River. She lives far, far to the northeast, on the other side of the Orclands (local orc lands, not the global region, which is much larger and a nation in its own right). Her interest is in Imperial (regional human) affairs, of which Broken River is only a small part. Before Bracken River became Broken River, it was of no interest to her; whether she employs, supports, or opposes Seamus Gantry (7th level commoner, imperial clerk) is unknown at this time.

She moved into her territory when her mentor died due to a few (hundred) fussy humans, who only complained about how many of them he was eating for a few years before gathering in an army, besieging him in his lair, and killing him. After the usual squabbles with other contenders (none of whom died), she has stepped into his shoes gracefully, and added his ploys to her own.

Songmoon owns a number of palaces, but is partial to one maintained by an outcast clan of dwarves. She is far too busy to bother directly with Broken River (for now), but has sent a number of agents to actively recruit. As trade between Broken River and the Sea Elves increases in importance to the Imperium, so will Songmoon's interest in "local" affairs.

Songmoon used to collect music, a passion that she continues by habit more than interest. Her new obsession is that of her former mentor: collecting blackmailed and bribed Imperial officials. Whether she has footholds in Broken River's corrupt government (which we'll get to in a later article) is up to the GM.

Songmoon is a passionate supporter of the Church of Light. Rumors that she is sponsor of the heretical Children of the Sun are lies. Scandalous, scandalous lies, spread by her detractors. You know because Songmoon River-Dance says so. No dragon would ever lie to you, right?



PC Kobolds
I know what you're asking. Why would a PC kobold want to live at Kobold House? 

They shouldn't. Kobolds, by design, should feel out of place in Broken River. They should make perception checks to notice that crazy cat lady is signaling them. The watch keeps tabs on them, and follows them in that way humans call discreet. And those that do want to live with crazy, deceptive, lying poisoners and trap-makers? Let them - they're playing KOBOLDS!

Class Training

Obviously, Summoner himself can train summoners, although both (or all) of his personalities will feel challenged by an acolyte who summons a draconic-looking eidolon.

Although none of the kobolds possess rogue levels, even Grippi the Outcast has enough experience in Craft (Traps) to train rogues and/or rangers. Many kobolds also possess ranks in Sneak, Survival, Craft (Poison), Sleight of Hand, and other skills of dubious morality.

I had originally thought of giving one of the kobolds levels in alchemist, but honestly – it has more reason to be elsewhere, so it is. This isn't to say that Kobold House doesn't have a modest store of alchemical fire (and other alchemical nastiness), for it does. But none of them have the actual alchemist class.


Why No Rogues?
I was really pressed to put three other classes into Kobold House: rogues, experts, and alchemists, in that order of priority. And nothing prevents you from doing so, if you feel it aids the feel of the town for your players. But summoners are rare, and the best summoner in town is a kobold.

The kobolds are quite able to provide for all things koboldish without tapping any of these classes – so I didn't. This isn't just so that Summoner shines; this is so the PCs have a chance to shine. That, and realizing the alchemist would spend most of his time in a straightjacket for the safety of Kobold House.

I'll explain. First level characters are actually fairly common in Broken River, due to the number of classes we need to cover and the fact that I believe in backups for when half the town gets burned down because both sorcerers in the party feel the need to play with fireballs while the rogue and fighter compete to see how many fireman helmets (complete with head) they can collect tonight.

But, my own bad players aside, look at the ethos of "One in a hundred becomes a successful adventurer." That means about twelve in all of Broken River. This is actually achieved at second or third level, depending whether you like rounding up or down. Since Broken River is intended as a basic starting area (levels 1-5), this fits fairly well. And second level isn't that hard to get to – provided you don't do silly things like the above contest.

But even though first level is "not that special", there is no reason to bury the rogue PC in a world of rogue NPCs. If every halfling, goblin, and kobold is a rogue, then the question rapidly becomes "Why are you, a PC,  worth a share of treasure? Hey, guys, let's just hire that rat-catcher guy for seven silver a month. I'll bet he knows how to disarm traps."

And this is just the wrong sort of question for players to be asking each other.

Options
Yes, options. I once read a Shadowrun book (stay awake, this becomes relevant) that presented options, rather than cold hard facts about places. This allowed the twin objectives of keeping the players in discovery mode (even if they had the book) and allowing the GM to customize their world. So without further ado, let's jump in.

Loyalty options:

• The kobolds honestly attempt to serve both dragons. 
• The kobolds are paranoid and insane, abandoned by both dragons.
• The kobolds just try to survive, following whichever dragon their "chief" supports at the moment. 
• Each kobold knows which dragon they serve, but doesn't trust anyone else in the tribe. 
• The kobolds are fed up with the paranoia, and don't serve either dragon – but they can't pretend to be anything but fanatical with all these other fanatical dragon lovers around them.

Chieftan options:

• He's insane, as written. 
• He's playing the tribal loyalties against each other to winnow out competition for chief. 
• He's playing tribal loyalties to ensure only the strongest survive. 
• He hates both dragons, and is playing the tribe against itself to ensure neither dragon gets utility out of his kobolds.
• He actually serves a third, undocumented dragon, and is trying to frustrate the tribe into leaving.
• Optional Archetypes: If using optional class templates, Summoner is an ideal candidate for being a Synthesist (Ultimate Magic, p80). In this case, the option that he intends to become a dragon is also an option.
• Basic Rules: Some groups just like playing with the absolute basics. In this case, replace Summoner with Sorcerer (Dragon), perhaps with the intention of making the draconic transformation.

Grippi Options: 

• He wants to be an adventurer. 
• He's a plant by the chieftain to test loyalty of the tribe members.
• He wants to be a rogue. 
• He's under secret orders from (he thinks) one or another dragon. 
• He's snapped, and thinks he's under orders from a dragon. 
• He's done with dragons, and paranoia, and just wants to make a living as a commoner.

Notice that none of the above option clusters are exclusive, and the indicators overlap. And absolutely nothing keeps you from replacing my "lame" options with your own. In fact, feel free to – it keeps your players guessing, and keeps the feeling of exploration/discovery alive. And that's the whole point of having options.

Languages of Pellatarrum: Common

Not truly a language of its own, Common is a syncretic fusion of the other four tongues as well as a patois of other forms and dialects. It came about as a result of the ambassador races (humans, gnomes, kobolds, etc.) needing to find common ground. By having a separate language of diplomacy, they avoided the need for arguments over which language would be spoken during negotiations. This inherently neutral tongue soon became the preferred language of trade, and then travelers.

Common uses the Draconic alphabet (chosen for its flexibility), the Dwarven system of numbers and counting (chosen for simplicity and efficiency), the Elven system of cases and tenses (to give the greatest depth possible for diplomatic discourse, although in casual conversation only a handful of the most common are used) and Orcish sentence structure and grammar (so you can easily tell whose thing is doing what to whom).

The majority of Common's vocabulary is comprised of a mishmash of words taken from the four major languages, based on ease on pronunciation and how well they fit the subject at hand. (For example, while casual profanity is in Orcish, all of the insults most likely to start a room-clearing brawl are in Dwarven.) Other words are either borrowed whole-cloth from other languages to appropriate particularly useful or rarefied pieces of vocabulary, or are unsightly portmanteaus of other words cobbled together as necessary.

As such, Common is a highly vulgar vulgate, and most of the elder races wince in horror when they hear it spoken. Imagine the reaction of a proper Victorian lady as she watches Jersey Shore and you have the right idea. Despite this, it is still the easiest of the languages to learn, and provides a handy jumping-off point for learning other languages.

Orcs think Common sounds effete.

WNW: Batman Coast to Coast

This is making the rounds lately, and I completely forgot about Wednesday Night Wackiness, so here, enjoy.

Languages of Pellatarrum: Draconic

The language of the Lords of the Air is laden with hisses, pops, glottal stops, and a series of clicks -- dental, lateral, alveolar and palatal -- that are difficult to replicate without a cleft tongue and elongated snout. Their language is further enhanced through echo chambers in their skulls and vocal sacs in their throats, which are capable of producing infrasonic effects. These sonic cues provide the necessary tonal inflection to differentiate mood and context, such as irritation or sarcasm, and this often makes them seem inscrutable or strangely apathetic to listeners unable to detect such vibrations.

When properly spoken, Draconic can be likened to the sound lightning makes as it travels from storm cloud, through the air, and strikes the ground. The nearest real-world equivalent is Assyrian or Babylonian, only with a more complex polysyllabic structure. While it is possible for non-dragons to speak Draconic, those lacking the proper mouth and tongue structures can only approximate the proper pronunciation. Rather than endure hearing their elegant names being butchered, most dragons adopt pseudonyms that are easily spoken by humanoids. For example, the great wyrm Ni?iqqu!ula'muu"uummuǂugal prefers to be addressed by his humanoid inferiors as "Doomwing."

The Draconic alphabet uses simple and direct strokes to form its letters, much like Futhark runes or ancient Greek (capital letters only), and is optimized for writing with the tip of the claw or tail. It has approximately 35 letters, including diacritical marks for infrasound. Only about 23 of these letters are pronounceable by humanoids.

Different dragon colors have their own unique dialects in terms of variation of pronunciation and slang terminology. This is akin to the difference between American, British, South African, and Australian English.

NaPelWriMo

Sorry about yesterday's Halloween post not posting. It seems to be hung up in committee.  Sigh...
(EDIT: it's up now.)

Now normally I don't go in for the National Novel Writing Month thing, because I do not do well under pressure and my novel moves at its own damn speed (which is glacially slow, I realize. I'm sorry. Buy me a quiet office where I can work for 8-16 hours a day and you'll see much more output from me). However, there is something I can do, which seems to be picking up speed and actually has  a good chance of getting finished, being published, and hopefully earning me some fame and fortune.

That thing is Pellatarrum. I actually have a third contributor now, which means the setting's total effective output has now tripled. However, of late I have been feeling a bit... impatient.

So I am embracing the spirit of NaNoWriMo but not its goal. It is my intention to concentrate on Pellatarrum through the month of November, flogging my co-contributors all the while, with the goal of hopefully generating 50k words of development for the setting.

But honestly? I don't think that's going to happen. Which isn't a dig at anyone; all of us have lives which demand our attention elsewhere, and real life takes priority over fantasy.

However....

There are lots of creative folks out there in the Interweblogosphere, and I reckon at least some of you want to see more Pellatarrum, perhaps even in print. Maybe enough to want to contribute?

So here's what I'm proposing:

1. Pick something about Pellatarrum you find fascinating and which hasn't been exhaustively explored yet. Fortunately for you guys, that's pretty much "everything" at this point. 
2. Come up with an idea that fits into the gonzo-sorcery ethos of Pellatarrum. This is the hard part. 
3. Email me your idea. 
4. To be clear: I am a tyrant. I will look at your proposal and decide if your vision meshes with mine, can be adopted to fit mine, will take too much work to fit, or does not fit at all.
5. If your idea is in one of the first two categories, you're in. I'll tell you everything I know about the subject and/or give you ideas on how to make it mesh, and then you can get to work. 
6. Write an article of around a thousand words and submit it via Google Documents, if at all possible. If not, email is fine. 
7. I will work with you to make sure both of us are happy with the result. 
8. You will get full credit for your writing. 
9. I can't pay. At least, not yet. Do this for the love the setting, or for bragging rights. 
10. If I ever publish this thing, at the very least you'll get a free copy. 

There is an informal goal of "By the end of the month" but honestly, if you're writing for me, I'll take it whenever it's finished. I prefer quality over speed. 

Also, and this is important: 

While I would like this setting to be as system-neutral as possible, there will be times when a default system is needed. When that happens, we will use Pathfinder. Here is an online version of their FREE system resource document. 

All right? Let's go!