Here is my attempt to make Tieflings actually-slightly-upsettingly outsiders. But somehow still accessible and playable? And also visually pretty much the same thing. But also fundamentally different.
An impossible mission? Probably. You judge.
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NATHLINGS
Part way through the long slow fall of the borderless
Diadem of Realms that ultimately collapsed into Uud, there came from out of the
thickening grey a race of people unlike any seen before.
Sharp toothed, slim-tongued, with horns of glass and
pale, thick blood, they were alien in their manner and all who met them were
disturbed, sometimes to the point of disgust.
These creatures called themselves, or were called,
"Nathlings".
They came with a warning.
They said that the slow stasis and malaise of that
Meta-Relam was the result, not of natural change, but conspiracy. That a vast
and incomprehensible force hated the Diadem of Worlds and plotted against it.
They said a Cosmic Entity, something beyond comprehension or mortal reach, had
focused its attention on this string of realities and that it would feed on,
and destroy, them all. They said Her plan was already in motion, that the
vacancy, vacuity, ennui and hysteria of society were the effects of Her
attention.
They said they knew this because She made them, or warped
them from some other race, to be her creatures. That they were born to lack
identity, deep memory, selfhood or names and were created to be Her servants
and the agents of Her thought, but they had tricked Her, broken free, and come
to warn everyone, to warn them that Yggsrathaal was coming, and that time was
running out.
Few listened. Not enough to save reality.
But some did. And those few, (radicals and fanatic
doom-sayers at the time,) began the process which ultimately lead to the
founding of the Grey Cities and the preservation of what life and culture still
remains on Uud.
So stands the story of the Nathlings (as they would tell
it). They still live on Blackwater. A race of Cassandras and half-monsters. Their
warning helped to preserve the world, but could not save it. They are creatures
of Yggsrathaal, but her mortal enemies. They are born alien, strange and
palpably "other", and as they become more human, they slowly die,
such is the tragedy of their victory.
Their existence in Blackwater borders on the edge of
toleration, just as it always has.
IDENTITY
The Nathlings were created, or corrupted, by Yggsrathall
to be her creatures. Made to have no names, no long-term memory, no empathy, no
dreams and no self, like grey angels of entropy.
But the Nathlings tricked their creator and escaped her
clutches. One by one they improvised or invented ways to escape the prison of
their natures.
Instead of names, Nathlings use 'kennings', small
micro-riddles or quixotic phrases, often referring to emptiness, tears, absence,
void, blankness or colourlessness.
Since this is no name, but a symbol to nothing, it
escapes the curse.
They were made to have no strong long-term interpersonal
memory. To learn skills and facts easily and quickly, but to carry no
recollection of the lives they have touched or which have touched theirs.
Each Nathling learns many languages, some are only known
to that race, some are entirely personal tongues known only to that one being.
If a Nathling wants to remember, for instance, an emotion, or an act of
friendship, a lover or an object of loyalty, they describe it to themselves
verbally inside their minds, and while doing so, they translate that
description, sometimes into one language, sometimes into many.
While they cannot easily recall the fact of friendship once it has settled into one image or tongue,
they can recall the act of translation
itself. This is not a stable memory, but a process of transformation which
the curse cannot affect.
So those who were made to care for nothing can build
themselves structures of selfhood, friendship, family and tribe.
Made to feel no empathy, the Nathlings can learn empathy, starting with its basic
structures, first treating it as a series of rules, observing, processing and
analysing. Then simulating and copying others. They learn it from the outside
in.
So those who were made to feel nothing, can learn to
inspire feeling in others, and since that
feeling is real, it can eventually seed a kind of mirror-intuition in the
Nathlings mind, giving them an image of the heart they were born to lack.
Born to dream of nothing, young or ageless Nathings do
indeed dream of nothing more than a pale grey Waste, much like the one beyond
the borders of Blackwater. The find it peaceful.
But over time, as they encounter more people in more
depth, as they live deeper and richer lives and experience a greater range of
life, slowly, imperceptibly, life springs in the unconscious mind.
This happens first as a pattern of vague lines of forms,
only suggestive of life. Over time, night after night, these collect together
into odd knotworks of shape and vigour, like storms of lines. Sometimes a
whisper is heard in the mind like something from another room.
Then, often after a moment of crisis or intensity
something living springs, in full colour and sound, into being inside the
Nathlings dream. Often this is a particular person known to the Nathling,
someone they may be close with, or in conflict with, or even someone completely
random and inconsequential.
The first time this happens the shock is often enough to
make the Nathling spring awake, heart hammering. The process is known to them,
and they are aware it can happen, but nothing can prepare them for the
vividness, animation or strangeness of this living sub-reality. They are often
confused, not quite processing that the person in their dream is different to
the living example. They suspect magic, extra-real powers or some other
trickery.
From this point on, the Nathling must make a choice, to
continue down this path and become more and more "human", more and
more real, or to turn away and return to what they were.
Whatever they choose the consequences are significant.
PHYSICALITY
Nathings, unless they alter their appearance, look a
little like grey humanoid demons.
It's perhaps fortunate that most of the Demons are
sleeping or dead, along with the Gods, but it likely doesn't help the Nathings
much as they look like something much worse than any Devil of the Diadem of
Worlds, they look like Yggsrathaal.
They are bipeds with weight and mass roughly equivalent
to Somon, but they have a "third limb" a gracile tail running from
their spine, so their limbs and body seem more slender. Bones are a little
thinner and more flexible than Somon, giving them a similar proportionate
tensile strength overall.
The tail and hip arrangement alters their walk, their
movement is slightly more efficient than Somon when accelerating or maintaining
a high speed, but less so over long distances, and much less so when carrying a
load. They are quick and quiet.
Nathling skin is grey (though many dye it) and textured.
Each texture is different. Nathlings can be patterned like frost, like rippling
waves, cracks in glass, radial spiderwebs, brush-strokes or sine waves, like
waving long-stemmed grass in wind.
Nathings have horns and nail-claws of glass, translucent
or opalescent, more tough and flexible than any manufactured glass. These horns
grow throughout the Nathlings life, in some cases becoming remarkable
antler-like displays.
The Nathling eye is equally strange. Instead of an iris,
the pupil is surrounded by a kind of liquid pool, like a stain of black fluid.
This liquid shifts like a trailing flag inside the eye, tied to the movement of
the pupil, but a moment or two behind or ahead of it. It looks like irregular
pools of iridescent black flowing across the eye like ink in water.
Even when the gaze is fixed, the edges of this pool flex
and shift a little.
This lends the Nathling gaze a curious indeterminacy. You
can never quite be certain where they are looking, your eye is drawn to theirs,
almost compulsively, but cannot intuit the meaning it needs. It’s hard to look
away and take the speech, tone, head movement and body position of the Nathling
as indicative of their focus (as you would with someone wearing dark glasses or
a blindfold for instance).
And they can sleep with these eyes open, their breathing
soundless and pulse indistinguishable, smelling of nothing (they easily creep
up on dogs).
They are primarily carnivores (which keeps the population
low), but have grinding teeth at the back of the jaw and can subsist as
omnivores with some loss of health and vigour. They can survive on very little
water, find it hard to learn how to swim
- instinctually adopting a sinuous lizard motion, dislike rain, always
have an umbrella and tend to skip quickly across river-bridges in a rapid
mincing gait.
They have three directly magical, otherworldly or
reality-shifted aspects; The Nathlings Kiss, The Size Insanity and their
Entropic Touch.
THE NATHLINGS KISS
Not truly a kiss, that name comes from story and rumour.
The pale, thick blood of a young Nathling, if ingested by a mortal, can strip
them of memory in the same way as the cursed Memory Eaters of Yggsrathall.
The phrase 'The Nathlings Kiss' comes from fable and accusatory
tales in which the innocent young Somon or Aeth is tricked into falling in love
with the heartless Nathling, who kisses them, biting their slender tongue with
their sharp teeth and invisibly feeding their blood to the poor victim, stripping
them of identity and self.
It’s a popular motif in fiction.
THE SIZE INSANITY
Like many of the Children of Yggsrathaal, Nathings can
become both very large and very small. This is thought to be a combination of
actual direct physical change and a kind of "re-scaling" ability
shared by some Fey, and employed in some magics, in which the relation of the individual
to the world is altered.
Like a person in sight becoming small or large the
further or closer they are to the eye, the subject is taken further or closer
from or to "the eye of the world", causing them to seem to become
very big or very small.
Amongst Nathlings, going insane and growing very big or small are considered to be the same
thing. Whether only the mad change size or whether changing size leads
Nathlings to madness, is unknown. They are incredibly strict about policing the
"correct" size and scale amongst each other.
When extremely small they become very fey, hunting
ladybugs from the backs of grasshoppers, prancing around on the leaves of roses
e.t.c. When very large they become crook-backed, massively horned pale and
silent giants, more like Her creatures then than at any other time.
Scale of a crazed
gigantified Nathling
THE ENTROPIC TOUCH
Nathings can instinctually wield the Entropic magics
typical of Yggsrathall and her children. This is a massively and systemically
supressed capacity amongst all "civilised" Nathlings. They hate to
use it and the cultural and psychological stress of doing so is so traumatic
that it can lead to a complete nervous breakdown or, in times of exceptional
stress, even worse changes.
THE CULTURE OF
THE NATHLINGS
Almost no "tolerated" group is less easily
tolerated than the Nathlings. Not only are they carnivores who are clearly and
obviously far too close to Yggsrathaal, they are strange.
Strange, in a world where multiple parallel species of
humanity encounter and work alongside each other almost continuously, means
more than just form, Natlings act
strange, they feel off, and not in a
fey or magical way, in a creepy way.
It has been argued by some, and never convincingly argued
against, that Nathlings have no instinctual moral core - no primate-scourced
morality. For them, good and evil, cruelty and kindness, even love and duty,
are simply a matter of decision, not intuition. They have no feeling to do the
right thing, they feel no intense shame over doing the wrong thing.
The counter-argument is that, because Nathlings choose good, and choose to be pro-social, loyal and kind, that the fundamental
meaning of their actions is the same, or possibly even better because how many
mortals can say that, if all things were even, they would coldly choose the
right path?
That might make sense intellectually, but it doesn't help
much when dealing with them face-to-face.
They are uncanny. Strangely distant, even with each
other. Everything they do has a feeling of performance. They have no immediate
disgust instinct, no strong fear instinct, no very strong desire instinct.
Their laughter sounds arch, even fake.
They are extremely
fair and even-handed, totally unprejudiced to any particular group. They would
make really good judges, if anyone fully trusted them and make their decisions
based on facts only. Which is really aggravating if you've known them for years
and they don't instinctually support you. But there is no instinct of group
loyalty, only decision.
Careful observers and brilliant mimics of others, they
are disturbingly good actors and exceptional liars and manipulators. Once you
see one lie, even if it were to save your life, it’s hard to fully trust them
ever again, you feel as if you can't really 'know' them - even after a long
time.
If you want to stop one doing something arguably immoral,
or to persuade them to do something that seems
immoral, though you do it for the right reasons, you must often explain why,
sometimes from first principals. "Trust me" isn't always going to cut
it, and even if they do trust you now,
they will want an explanation later.
THE NATHLING
AESTHETIC
It’s very common for them to stain their skin a vibrant
colour, to paint their horns, wear bright clothes and bejazzlements, golden
bells on the horns or silver spiderwebs strung between them. A handful radically chop off and grind down
the horns, some, after losing a horn to battle or mischance, with cut the other
even with it.
They affect necklaces or decorations of flowers, fresh
fruit, leaves or vulnerable origami - to make a point. By keeping these
very-perishable things in close proximity, and perfect condition, they are
definitely NOT using entropic magics that everyone knows they have.
In what began as a statement and evolved into a fashion,
their tools and weapons are often of "fragile" materials, either made
cunningly or enchanted; swords of glass, ceramic, crystal, paper or the
slenderest steel, stalks of grass or whips of thorn. Bags of thin silk, belts
of slightest chain. Fine slippers and gossamer scarfs.
IN SOCIETY
Nathlings are adaptable to any social situation, but not
accepted in any of them.
They are often itinerant single wanderers. They are
unofficially banned from some Cities and Queendoms. legally no such ban can
exist, but in practice they know the places it is dangerous for them to step.
They rarely gather in large groups in public for fear of mobs, but there are
underground networks in most cities. They tend to know each other.
Its rumoured Nathlings often walk about under glamours,
seeming to be other than they are. Though this is dangerous and semi-legal in
most governed lands.
When integrated into social structures, they are eager
and effective members of organisations that will give them visible protection
and allow them to move around. They often take on unpopular but useful jobs
like tax collector, executioner, ombudsman, investigator, translator,
entertainer to semi-legal subcultures, and of course, criminal. They make
exceptionally good criminals, except that everyone
always suspects the Nathling. Though they rarely seem very religious, they
are curious, knowledgeable and of course, tolerant. When they do commit to a
faith, they learn it all, chapter and verse, down to the smallest detail.
They raise their children in private, they are rarely
seen out in public until they are around ten years old.
Outside settled society, Nathlings often get on quite
well with "wild" Aeth out in the forests. They are both gracile,
precise and independent aesthetes, and both rather "fey" in manner
(literally in the case of the Aeth).
They can survive in the Wastes, possibly better than any
other mortal being, though this ability has not improved their reputation. They
can find, fight and kill the Children of Yggsrathaal better than anything on
Uud.
AGING
Nathlings, as designed by Her, are immortal, or at least,
ageless.
Feeling ages them.
The more "real", "alive" and
"felt" they become, the older they physically get. Their altered
flesh was made to pass through the world of mortal minds like mist, placeless,
featureless, untouchable. It cannot tolerate attachment, affection, integration,
meaning.
This is why the first vivid dream of a Nathling is so
important. It is a Rubicon. There is still time for them to turn back to remain
immortal, untouchable. Some Nathlings remain "young" forever. Neither
evil nor good, passionless, they drift through the world, barely touching it.
But the deeper and more meaningful their interaction with
the world, the more people they trust, and are trusted by, the more feeling
they inspire and absorb, the deeper and more vivid their dreams, the stronger
and deeper their soul, the harder they age.
And this aging changes the sense of them. The disturbing
alienation of their behaviour fades away. The affect of their amnesiac blood disappears.
Old, or old-looking Nathlings are often well-liked, with acceptable social
position, circles of friends, familiarity, trust, easy banter and a sense of
weight and simple vigour. They are also astoundingly ugly and horned, they look
like old knotted wood or dried out demons. They laugh and feel and live and
exist deeply and intuitively, though from their looks they would seem to be
devils.
These "old" Nathlings are looked on with awe,
horror and envy by the young. This is what they could be, should they choose.
This is their final victory and their great tragedy. Made
to be murderous ghosts of entropy, like leaves blown before an annihilating
storm, they trick fate and defy their creator. They are finally, irrevocably,
immediately and intuitively Human.
They pay for it with their lives. But don't we all?
Aaaaan, Kickstarter still be rollin'!
I very much like it.
ReplyDeleteQuestion: does Nathling who rejected their first dream ever get a second chance to accept it?
I think if would depend on the DM but for maximum drama, no.
DeleteI like this very much and I've been reading Beowulf lately, so here are some Nathling kennings from the top of my head.
ReplyDeleteFor Emptiness: Who dwells in the pauper's belly, The use of the box, the progenitor of stillness
For Tears: The wake of the blade, the hater of wholeness
For Void: The skin between stars, the bane of sufficiency
For Colourlessness: The sum of all shades, that which is not quite grey,
For Blankness: The bane of the canvas, The bareness of clay, the shape of the future
For Absence:The space in the scabbard, The cat's footfalls, the giver of longing
Beautiful.
ReplyDeletemy tieflings should have hooves. goat legs. literally unplayable otherwise. but besides that the lore's nice.
ReplyDelete