The party wanders between market stalls during the height of the selling day. Dozens of strange, unfamiliar scents and sounds fill the air. The wares are just as alien. There are crystal shards in various colors, bundles of bulbous fungi, arthropod carapaces taller than the dwarf hocking them, and many more oddities. Citizens of all different races shop alongside the adventurers. Distant colliatur, small dødeligs, and proud dweorg mingle amidst the stalls and storefronts. The rest of the underground city rises around them, proudly displaying its dwarven architectural heritage. Pillars of colorful crystal and stone loom farther into the city’s heart.
Despite its strange features and denizens, it almost feels like the party never left the surface world. Until they look up. The shadowy cavern ceiling hangs high above. If they squint, they can just make out moving shapes in the darkness up there. This is what reminds them. This city is just a tiny beacon of light surrounded by darkness.
You sit down at session zero to create characters and introduce the world where they live. The GM is busy describing the perfect tavern where your adventure will start. Next to you a friend is deciding on their next character. Before you know it, the argument is on.
“The air is cold and dank, heavy with the weight of the earth hanging high above your head. Jagged, black stone walls stretch ahead and behind. The torch in your hand flickers as a dead breeze staggers down the passageway. You draw closer and closer to the end of this bleak tunnel until finally, the narrow rock walls vanish on both sides. You can hear the heavy breathing of something in the darkness ahead and…”
“I have darkvision!”
“You… Oh, whatever! You see a feral troll in the back of the cave. Everybody, roll initiative.”
The adventurers reached the heart of the cultist’s hideout. There, on the throne a beautiful woman, skin the color of shale, eyes burning like coals, her hair streaked white and silver, stares down at them. “Kneel” she commands of them. One steps forward and bows to the would-be queen. Her movements are swift and graceful. She glides down the stairs, removing her blade as she does so and swings. Before the remaining adventurers can react, the head of their companion rolls across the floor.
Dark elves are a familiar and evil society with few exceptions. They present new and exciting game play as either a playable character or as villains for a game master. But where did this creation stem from? Continue reading Why Dark Elves?