| The Willow Sourcebook |
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The Nelwyns are an old race of mysterious origins, now found only in Nelwyn Valley. The Daikinis of the world often overlook them, and that suits the Nelwyns fine. A typical adult Nelwyn is about three feet ten inches tall and weighs perhaps ninety pounds. A single population may vary widely in height, build, and even skin color. Details of Nelwyn biology, such as gestation, birth, onset of maturity, and lifespan all match human norms fairly closely. Nelwyns are seldom stronger than Daikini boys aged ten to twelve. But they tend to be bright and articulate, and many excel in matters of craftmanship and dexterity, such as weaving, cooking, and archery. As might be expected of this small and timid race, they show a talent for staying out of sight of larger folk. The nickname for Nelwyns, "Pecks," probably derives from their size, "peck" being a small unit of volume. The Nelwyns dislike the term. HISTORY AND BACKGROUND The Nelwyns moved into the valley that bears their name many years ago... 1,342 years ago, if their meticulous archival records tell the truth. The presumed date they first saw the valley is still celebrated in Nelwyn villages as Arrival Day. The first settlers, known in Nelwyn Valley folklore as the Forerunners, fled into the green valley from the north, to escape constant attacks by troll packs, cyclopes, dragons, and other monsters. In those times such creatures roamed feely, "in numbers that darkened the open plains," if we may believe the Nelwyn chroniclers. They may be forgiven some dramatic enlargement on the facts; to a Nelwyn, even one dragon might seem to darken the open plain. Elves lived in the valley at that time, according to the records. The tall folk and the little folk got along well, the ones dwelling in the forest and the others fishing on the river. Their peaceful coexistence lasted for several centuries, until the elves mysteriously departed this part of the world. Life continued peacefully for the Nelwyns after the elves left. Along the winding rivers Troon and Freen, and on the shores of many ponds and oxbow lakes, dozens of villages sprang up. They prospered so well that the surrounding kingdoms began to name the area "Nelwyn Valley" on their maps. But Daikinis left them alone for the most part, since the valley was too remote to exploit efficiently - and since the Nelwyns proved willing to defend their homes fiercely. A few bandit incursions proved that. After word spread that the little people showed unusual skill with bow and knife, Daikinis of evil intent gave the valley a wide berth. THE MINES The first great change in valley life came with the discovery of copper, about a century ago. The mines, community owned, now run deep under the hills by the villages, a steady but not especially rich source of metal for cooking pots, primitive water pipes, and coin metal. Miners are considered respectable tradesmen, and in Willow's village they carry on a sporting rivalry with the farmers. At the festivals one of the hallmark events is the tug-of-war between miners and farmers. The contest usually goes to the farmers, since Dollum Wheelover (195 pounds last Midwinter Festival) alleges himself a farmer. The miner's life is not pleasant, and many die prematurely in accidents or of lung diseases. When Burglekutt threatened Willow with a life in the mines, the Prefect's threat was chilling. The dangers are severe enough that some villagers advocate closing the mines. But villages need metals. Whether the Nelwyns will continue their own mining is not yet clear. Certainly they will reduce production until the mines can be made safer. THE VILLAGES Most Nelwyn villages lie along River Freen, for Nelwyns prefer living by the water. They survive by farming (wheat and some vegetables), mining, fishing (trout, copperbacks, many others), and foraging. A couple of villages lie inland, concentrating on mining and terraced hill farming. These hamlets tend to be drab, inbred, and glum, in contrast to the bucolic cheerfulness of the rest. An estimate of the valley's population is hard to come by. The Nelwyns themselves don't much care: Child: "Gee, how many of us Pecks are there, Mr. Aldwin, sir?" Aldwin: "Don't say 'Pecks,' son, it's not polite. And who knows how many Nelwyns there are? Who needs to know? Might as well ask, 'How much do all the ravens in the world weigh?'" Child: "Oh." [Long, pregnant pause.] "Say, how much do all the ravens in the world weigh?" Aldwin: [Whack.] LIFE IN THE VILLAGES Though no one in a Nelwyn village can be called filthy rich, some citizens live in greater comfort than the rest - market owners, the archivist, tradesmen such as the blacksmith or the undertaker, successful farmers who have relocated into town, and sometimes the Prefect. Warriors do not have high status, as a rule. The upper class enjoys better food and roomier huts than the norm. But all of them still work until they're old or feeble, and they consort on roughly equal terms with the rest of the village. A village's Aldwin always enjoys high status, but seldom lives in commensurate comfort. Because Aldwins like to dabble in magical research, their dwellings often exhibit weird lights or burning odors, and more than one has exploded. Therefore, the Aldwin's hut is near the edge of town, away from other buildings, and often looks like it was thrown together in a hurry. Village government is nearly always a loose, low-key affair. Yes, there are council members (the number varies among villages), they serve staggered terms for a few years each (again, the number varies), and they are elected by popular vote. They hear the occasional legal dispute, and they appoint the Prefect and the archivist. But Nelwyns are not political animals. They are tolerant, and creatures of habit; there's rarely a need for the council to do anything. When there is, the villagers will likely call a town meeting and arrive at a majority decision. Then the council presides and exerts influence, but has no real authority. A council seat bestows status, but little power. Suffrage is granted to men and women "of mature years," as the Nelwyns phrase it. This seems to mean you can vote if you go up to the ballot bowls and nobody shoos you away. Voting is theoretically by secret ballot, but in practice, each citizen's choice is public knowledge. That is life in a small village. Nelwyn males and females are nearly equal in number. Customarily, men head the household and work in the hard-labor occupations such as mining, while women do domestic chores and work in less physical professions. Exceptions are not uncommon; Nelwyns do not get excited about these matters. Village councils are typically three-quarters male. Aldwins can be either male or female. Some say that women usually achieve greater mastery of magic. In general the Nelwyns dislike travel. Those few who wander abroad, such as Vohnkar, return with tales of a land built much too large for the Nelwyns. This discourages exploration, and the Nelwyns seem to enjoy their isolation anyway. CULTURE The anchor of Nelwyn society is the family of two parents and one to four children. Occasionally an enfeebled grandparent may live with the family. Inheritance is through the father, and offspring marry outside the family group. Nelwyns number among the virtues hard work, the importance of the family, respect for elders, cleanliness, chastity, and tolerance for different ways of living. They consider the opposites of these traits to be vices, along with cavalier or antisocial behavior, gambling, refusal to observe festival customs, and the traditional iniquities condemned in human societies. There is no formal education. Once each week a village Aldwin sets aside an afternoon to instruct youngsters in the village's history and traditions. Perhaps he may pull out an old primer and teach reading or a little arithmetic. But instruction in book learning is the parents' job. Most Nelwyns, like Willow and his family, are literate. Many are superstitious (unlike Willow). Many Nelwyns thrive on a rich oral tradition of omens, cautions, and advice that would make any Daikini a nervous wreck. Every Nelwyn child knows which way to nod before crossing a bridge, a dozen ways to fend off mosquitoes, three dozen to cure hiccups, and what happens if a farmer keeps two hogs of exactly the same color. Kiaya gave Willow a braid of her hair as a good-luck charm, following yet another old practice. Like the children's rhymes that Meegosh studies, few of these wives' tales have been preserved in the archives. Evidently there is a superstition against that. Weaving, carpentry, and all the usual crafts found in human villages have their Nelwyn equivalents. More interesting are the Nelwyn folk arts, which are well developed and spring from long tradition. For instance, nearly every child learns to draw and paint on wooden slats, and many continue artistic pursuits throughout life. (Willow's daughter, Mims, has already shown talent for illustration.) In every village archives, examples abound of myths, legends, fables, ballads, and even jokes and riddles. One traditional comic tale tells of a farmer who lazily lets his homestead run down, until the hogs take over and put him in harness. This moral tale and many like it exist in numberless versions. The Nelwyn literature includes no drama except for children's puppet shows. But the village festivals show a high awareness of theater. Stage magicians, masters of legerdemain, can rise to prominence in the valley (though Willow never approached that level). Bards and balladeers draw crowds, as do puppeteers. Music enlivens every festival and, on wintry evenings, nearly every home. Songs outnumber Nelwyns by a hundred to one in the valley. A given Nelwyn is as likely as not to play reed pipes (like Willow's friend Meegosh), or some kind of drum or woodblock, or one of many primitive stringed instruments. The joy the Nelwyns take in dance can infect even jaded Daikini onlookers. Leontes the Traveller came upon a Nelwyn festival in his wanderings, and the villagers invited him to their dance. "Wondrous indeed, to view these whitlings cavorting to strong rhythms," he says. "I felt moved to join the celebrants, much as a hale veteran may fall to the infant's shaking-sickness. "The Nelwyns withdrew from around me, I doubt not because of my bulk, yet they lauded me and laughed, gaily. I gamboled among them far into the night, as I later learned their dances are wont to extend. Next morning I also had occasion to use their worthy salves for the ache of joints. THE NELWYN YEAR The villagers work hard, and have little time for holidays. So the few festivals in the year have become all the more important. Nelwyns begin their calendar with the Midwinter Festival, three days marked by snow and good spirits. Families invite friends to their homes, and bestow gifts on each guest as he or she arrives. Songs and ornaments mark the holiday. In spring comes planting and also - as a reward for all that effort - the Planting Festival. This great fair features sporting contests, stage presentations, much music, and lots of food and activities. The villagers bring out the Wickerman, the woven thatch sculpture that symbolizes the Nelwyn way of life. Seeds and vegetables are placed at its base, and the Nelwyns hope for rain. This year's festival was disrupted by a Death Dog searching for Elora Danan, and the Wickerman was destroyed. But with the fall of Bavmorda, prospects for next year's celebration look bright. Midsummer is the traditional time for weddings. There is nearly always a young couple ready to wed; sometimes an older couple wishes to renew their vows. Weddings are always festive occasions; villagers bring food and gifts to the couple, and the men help the groom build their new home. The bride traditionally braids her hair at this time. Arrival Day, in late summer before the harvest, is a quiet holiday. Villagers observe it with a council meeting. The Aldwin ritually recounts the village's history, and families retire to their homes for a large dinner. After harvest comes Leaf-Turning Festival, another fair much like that of Planting. Traditionally the Wickerman is burned at this time. Elderly widows and spinsters spend the winter weaving a new Wickerman, and it is brought out in its turn next spring. For many Nelwyns it marks the year more effectively than the changing of the leaves. GAMING NOTES Typical Nelwyn male Numbers given are ranges; die rolls follow each attribute, to allow players to generate Nelwyn characters. For females, subtract 1 from strength and add it to constitution. For children, subtract 3 from all statistics (minimum 3) except dexterity, which is unaffected. In many roleplaying systems Nelwyns most closely resemble halflings. They lack the thief skills sometimes assigned to halflings, but are stealthy and good climbers. And, as Willow and the High Aldwin demonstrate, their mastery of magic can equal a Daikini's. Otherwise, base game decisions on halfling rules. |
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