Elves and Iron, Updated and Complete

This is a "finished" version of a post I made a long time ago. It proposes a radical rethinking of the Elf class for DCC RPG. It was originally intended for Metal God of Ur-Hadad zien, but that never happened. It may someday see the light of day as part of a Goodman Games product, but not sure.

Of Elves and Iron

Iron Rules for DCC RPG

Iron is inescapable. Iron is poison. Iron kills.

The presence of iron, unknown in Elfland (the human name for the transdimensional realm where the elves live), was the downfall of the Imperial elves of Ore. Iron changed and corrupted elven magic, driving elves with particularly weak constitutions mad from exposure, causing low birth rates and terminal birth defects, and occasionally producing horrifying mutations among their children. The Dungeon Crawl Classics version of elves makes clear that they aren't Tolkien elves, but more like the Fae, including an aversion to iron:

Elves are extremely sensitive to the touch of iron. Direct contact over prolonged periods causes a burning sensation, and exposure at close distances makes them uncomfortable. An elf may not wear iron armor or bear the touch of iron weapons for extended periods. Prolonged contact with iron causes 1 hp of damage per day of direct contact. (DCC Core Rules, p. 57)

In my mind, this is a bit too forgiving. Iron is inconvenient to elves, but not actively dangerous. If we follow the rules-as written, iron is a bit like poison ivy: It's nasty stuff, and it can cause a person some discomfort, but it's really not that bad. Mechanically, the in-game effects are about nil, unless you do the equivalent of stuffing your pants with iron nails (or poison ivy for that matter). It's not likely that an elf is going to put herself into a position where iron contact is constant. Moreso, Judges will tend to forget or just ignore iron's effects on elven characters. Ignoring the Iron Rule is not only against the rules-as-written, it's also forgoing an opportunity for some great character development and role-playing. So, I begin with a question: What if iron poisoning was a real danger for elves, akin to heavy metal poisoning for humans?

Heavy metal poisoning is no joke. Symptoms include headaches, weakness, fatigue, muscle and joint pain, and constipation. Information about more specific metals suggests we could add diseases of the organs, brittle bones, and permanent nervous system damage (with physical and mental effects). Medical science also differentiates between "acute" and "chronic" effects. In what follows, I will try to add some teeth to the effects of iron on elven characters, and explores some of the ways iron-sensitivity has had, and continues to have, significant effects on elven lives and culture.

Iron Exposure: Acute and Chronic Effects

"Acute" iron exposure results from injury, usually by getting various pieces of brutal cutlery shoved into one's body—a sudden, massive increase in the level of iron exposure. "Chronic" iron exposure occurs over time, affecting the mind and body in painful, dangerous, and frightening ways.

•         Acute Effect: An "acute" iron effect check is triggered when an elven character is reduced to 0 hit points, and either gets healed or has a successful Recover the Body check. Roll on the following table, in addition to the "bleeding out" and "recovering the body" effects described in the DCC RPG core rules (see p. 93).
• 
  
•         Chronic Effect: Each time an elf gains a level, make a Fortitude Save (DC 10+new level). If failed, roll d12 on the table (plus Stamina modifier). Should the elf have the wherewithal to afford an iron-protective encounter suit (see below), he or she should reduce the DC by 1 per 2,000 g.p. spent on the encounter suit (rounded down, maximum of 10).

d12+STA mod	Type	Effect
less than 0	Acute	The Sickening: Lose 1d4 points of Stamina, permanently. If 0 or less, death occurs.
	Chronic	Nemesis: The character has gone irrevocably mad from iron poisoning. Play as NPC with hatred for former comrades.
0	Acute	Fisher King's Lament: Acquire a wound that will not heal normally, and which requires a 4 dice result of a Lay on Hands check to heal through divine means. Lose 1d6 hp per day until healed.
	Chronic	Rust Rot: Skin turns the color of rust, and flakes off constantly. Lose 1d4 points of Personality, permanently.
1	Acute	Vampirism: As result of damage major organs are mutated. Character must ingest the blood of intelligent creatures of the living, red-blooded races (e.g., humans, halflings, dwarves) in addition to normal food. Failure to do so at least once per week results in roll for chronic effect.
	Chronic	Ghoulish: Arms lengthen by 2d10 inches and grow iron claws (1d3 damage).
2	Acute	Something Human: You are no longer immune to magical sleep and paralysis. Each time one of these spells could affect you, make a Will Save as normal human.
	Chronic	Twisted Freak: Body becomes contorted over the course of two weeks (Strength and Agility -1d3).
3	Acute	Blood in Your Eyes: Eyes turn the color of blood. You no longer have infravision.
	Chronic	Orked Out: Gain 1d3 Strength and lose 1d3 Personality, permanently.
4	Acute	Dulled Senses: Normal ability to detect secret doors reduced by 1d4, permanently.
	Chronic	Hot blooded: You now bleed red instead of "normal" blue-green. When you take damage, make a Will Save (DC 15) or go berserk for 1d6 rounds. During this time, you will have AC -2, to-hit and damage +2. You will always attack the nearest "foe" even if that person is not your enemy.
5	Acute	Human Frailty: Hit dice reduced from 1d6 to 1d4 when gaining next level.
	Chronic	Blood Magic: Choose a spell at random. Spell checks for that spell made with next higher die type (e.g., d24 instead of d20), but must Spellburn 1d3 points to cast. If caster does not Spellburn, the spell is cast using next lower die type (e.g., d16 instead of d20).
6	Acute	Freaked Out: The character is delirious from the effects of iron poisoning. Spell checks and Will Saves are rolled at -1d6 for 1d3 days.
	Chronic	Wild Mercurial: Choose a spell at random. Each time you cast that spell, roll 1 additional Mercurial Magic result, which occurs in addition to any other Mercurial effect(s). This effect is permanent.
7	Acute	A Little Itchy: Develop a persistent rash at the site of the wound. -1 to Initiative rolls for 1d3 days, due to incessant itching.
	Chronic	Arcane Chaos: Choose a spell at random and roll 1d4-2. If the number is positive/negative the spell now must be cast using a die up/down that many steps in the dice chain, permanently. If 0, then no effect. However, that spell also requires 1 point of Spellburn to cast.
8+	Acute	Iron Burn: Lose 1d3 points of Stamina. Any points in addition to the permanent 1 point loss required by DCC RPG rules are temporary (like Spellburn) and will be recovered at a rate of 1 per day.
	Chronic	Holding Pattern: No chronic effect.

Since coming to Ore, elves have sought to escape the effects of its poisonous, iron-rich environment, to find new ways to avoid the poison that saps their vitality, warps their magic, and corrodes their very souls. Unfortunately, their adaptations involve extremely expensive technologies, and not all elves are able to make use of them.

Elven Encounter Suits

Encounter suits are the product of millennia of elvish medical experimentation ( none of it particularly ethical and some of it quite horrific). Each suit provides a body-covering "suit" (a tough sheath of cloth, sometimes enhanced with mithril thread), a face concealing helmet with integrated breathing apparatus, and gloves/boots to cover the hands and feet. The suits provide an enclosed, protective environment, free from the corrosive effects of iron poisoning, and must be worn at all times to provide their benefits.

Encounter suits are expensive, both to purchase and to maintain, and elves think of them much in the same way that modern humans regard things like automobiles: They are at the same time utilitarian objects, expressions of personal aesthetics, and markers of social status and/or financial wherewithal. Only the wealthiest of elves can even afford encounter suits, as they are expensive both to acquire (at least 5,000 gp) and to maintain (1% of purchase price per month). Also, should the suit be damaged, a hasty repair can keep it in working order for a short time, but any real repair costs up to 10% of the suit's value. They also, of course, are markers of particular elves' identities and status. The sheathing suit, gloves, and boots provide visual cues that other elves can use to determine things like clan identity, personal triumphs and accomplishments, professional affiliations, and so forth.

Encounter Suit Garments (including gloves/boots)

Quality	AC	Cost (gp)
Lowest Quality	11-13	2000+
Midrange	14-15	7500+
High Quality	16-17	15000+
Noble/Scion	18	25000+

Encounter suit helmets are as individual as the faces they conceal, and the most important marker of a wealthy elf's social identity, the face he or she presents to the world. For such reasons, even lower quality suits are well made of high-end encounter suits are crafted using a range of rare and valuable materials to highlight the owner's exquisite taste and cultural refinement, and there's much emphasis placed, among elves, on matters of encounter suit aesthetics that are, to the other races, incomprehensibly abstruse. The elven nobility are particularly given to using their helmets to mark particulars of rank and status, and each noble family has a distinctive style unique to itself. Anyone else pretending to that style who is not a member of that family invites a duel (at best) or even a feud.

Encounter Suit Helmet

Quality		Cost
Lowest Quality		3000+
Midrange		10000+
High Quality		20000+
Noble/Scion		50000+

There is great variation in the range of quality of encounter suits, including their physical protective qualities, their ability to shield their users from harmful iron, and the money that elves might spend on their customization. It is up to judges to determine if and how they might allow players to customize their encounter suits. However, no encounter suit may reduce the saving throw DC for Chronic effects by more than 10 points.

Iron's Effects on Elven Culture

The effects of iron are ever on most elves' minds, and fear of it is pervasive. Though not all elves are able to do anything to help themselves—They simply can't afford the cost—there still are a whole host of cultural practices, from mere quackery to science, risen around the problem. Here are a few of them for judges to think about:

•          Elves are vigilant toward potential vectors of iron infection. They find ways to seal themselves and their homes off from those vectors. (Adventure Idea: Provide positive modifier to Chronic Effect roll for players of elf PCs who role-play this vigilance well.)
•          There is an area of arcane study concerned with iron exposure and its effects on spell casting. Iron makes magic work differently. Corruption will tend to be exacerbated by iron infection, or it might manifest as symptoms thereof. (Adventure Idea: Magical artifacts may be created to stabilize spell effects may uncertain by iron.)
•          Elves study healing/medicine concerned with iron exposure and its effects on elven biology. This area of study is guarded from outsiders, and elves have been known to assassinate any non-Elf who tries to pry into these mysteries. (Adventure Idea: There may be cults who engage in horrible experiments, attempting to "fix" elven biology.)
•          There is a thriving industry in quackery, "holistic" approaches to healing from iron exposure, and other pseudo-medical and faith-based scams. Because iron is so dangerous, and infection so inevitable, some elves will believe nearly anything in order to cope with their fears, even if the cures offered are ineffective or even worse than iron infection itself. (Adventure Idea: Charismatic cults dedicated to healing iron poisoning have arisen among low-class elves, though their practices have little or no real effect.)
•          Elven artisans craft devices to limit their exposure to iron (e.g., filter masks, special garments, etc.). This tends to make them look even more otherworldly, and sets them apart from the other races even further. Given the history of the elves on Ore, this means that they are even further excluded from the society of other races. Encounter suits are only one such technology, and the only one that works reliably. Elves who can't afford them might attempt other means of self-protection (Adventure Idea: PCs or NPCs could work to recover and develop lost technologies.)
•          Evan non-elves know that iron-infected elves are potentially dangerous. The more powerful the Elf, the more likely he or she is to be a problem. As a result, there is strong anti-Elf sentiment in some quarters, and even some political impetus to exclude elves from human society entirely. (Adventure Idea: Some NPCs/NPC Factions may display prejudice toward elven PCs.)
•          Elves sometimes return to Elfland in order to seek respite from the effects of iron infection, and to attempt healing of some sort. Some never return. (Adventure Idea: Make this a Quest, with associated effects based on level of success.)

Clearly iron is important to the elves, but their attempts (even failed ones) to deal with its effects is not simply a matter for each individual to handle. Whole ways of life and industries have arisen to cope with the sad reality faced by the elves of Ore. Within elven society, though, there are other, potentially dangerous things brewing, because not every elf can be protected from it. Wealth and nobility are keys to accessing the protection needed to stave off iron infection. As with the other races, though, not everyone shares equally the things from which all could benefit.

The Spires of the Elven Lords

The wealthiest elves live in great spires, sealed off from the dangers of the outside world.

Though Man conquered the elves in His rebellion, lo these many years ago, the elves never surrendered their Spires. They still stand, a testament to elven persistence in their quixotic fight against the inevitable.

The Spires were built in the earliest days to combat the iron threat. Though their arts are not now practiced (and are forbidden by decree), the ancient elves of the Imperium were masters of technomancy, and could create life through those forbidden processes (though it is rumored that some elven factions still follow this path). They "bred" homes, aether ships, fortresses, fell constructs bred for battle, and all manner of other things. These creatures were grown from strange seed and nurtured into the mature works of elven master artisans of this foul craft. Five elven Spires grew from such seeds, rising thousands of feet into the skies above Ur-Hadad.

The Spires look like bleached, blue-white bones, shining unsullied by time under the sun and moons of Ore. Their surfaces are near-impregnable, with few windows or portals, and these well guarded. They rise with celestial grace into the sky, their sharp points skewering the cloud layers, disappearing from sight, far, far above. They look just a little bit like thorny vines, engorged of stem and laden with fruits and buds, climbing toward eternity.

Each Spire has a name Anuch-Dar (the Collective Mind), Morgath-Ka'ak (the Bloody Hand), Morgath-Gur (the Sinister Hand), Morgath-Noriel (the Adroit Hand), and Anuch-Ur (the Singular Mind). No one is quite sure what these names mean, and the elves aren't inclined to answer questions about them. In fact, the Spires are not spoken of in the hearing of non-elves, and even those elves who walk among Men refuse any attempt to discuss them, going so far as to fight duels to avoid doing so.

No non-elven person has ever entered a Spire. In fact, not every elf has done so. They are sealed off to most, and guarded jealously against unauthorized entry. Cloistered within are the elite of elven society, whose faces are concealed by bizarre breathing masks and protective raiment, and whose voices emerge, strange and discordant, from the places where their mouths must be. No living human has ever seen the faces of the elven nobility. As a result, we have little to go on but rumors. Here are a few:

•         The elves are preparing to reconquer Ore.
•          The elves are using their arcane knowledge to build a bridge to the moons.
•          The elven women are the true rulers, and use the Spires to keep their breeding stock of pure-blooded males in harem.
•          The Spires descend miles into the depths of Ore, and are just the tips of a far vaster structure that spans the entire world.
•          The Spires are great aether-ships, and could leave the surface of Ore to sail among the moons and stars.
•          The creatures living in the Spires are not elves at all, but demons, and wear their concealing raiment to hide their true natures.
•          The elves are attempting to cross-breed with Men, and the Spires are full of vast slave pens, technomantic laboratories, and mad elves bent on fiendish experiments and lusting after human women.
•          The Spires are great libraries of lost knowledge, jealously guarded by powerful elven nobles.
•          The Spires are portals to other planes, where the elves still rule a great empire of cruelty and despair.
•          There are lost Spires out in the wilds and under the seas of Ore.

None of these rumors has been substantiated, but neither have they been disproved. And there are many more than these, each wilder than the last, each speaking to the greatest hopes and deepest fears of the Men of Ore, and underlining the cultural rift between the two races.

Men gaze suspiciously upon the Spires, pondering their threat and their promise. Elves, too, live outside the Spires. They are not the elite of elven society. They do not share in its bounty. Most cannot afford the protections either of Spire or of encounter suit. Their misery grows, generation by generation, as they are warped and corroded by iron infection, and fewer and fewer healthy offspring are born. They, too, gaze at the Spires. Their hatred springs like thornwood from blackened ground, growing from sentiment, to philosophy, to vocation. It surely will bear poisoned fruit.

A terror cult has arisen among the common classes of elves: It is known as Morgath'ak-Lugash (The Iron Fist). The members of this notorious sect hunt, torture, and (usually) kill the wealthiest among the elves, using iron weapons and instruments. Their first acknowledged victim was crucified with iron nails, an iron spear drive into his side, and a wreath of barbed wire wrapped around his brow. No one has been able to determine its terror cult's membership, what resources they might have, or where they might lair.

In the end, as every elf knows, there is only metal. Ore's iron core spins malignantly beneath its crust, and its arteries pump iron-rich magma. Iron dust blows across its lands, and the other races bear weapons and raiment of iron, as if making mock of the elves great plight. From iron there is no escape, no surcease, but only the long, bitter struggle against the inevitable. There is death, or there is madness, or there is the choice to "sail into the West," a cryptic reference that no elf has ever explained to outsiders.

Two Small Items

Whew! It's been a heck of a month. Summer teaching is finally done, four writing deadlines have been met (one to go), and things are starting to settle down a bit. Sorry for the month (or so) long hiatus, but the blog was the only thing I reasonably could let wait while I got other stuff done. But enough of my excuses!

Here are two ideas.

Patron Bond as Wizard Class Feature

First, I think every wizard in DCC RPG should get access to the Patron Bond spell--It should be a class feature. Yes, it would make elves slightly less special, but tough shit for them. The idea, here, is that supernatural entities are keen to keep their fingers in a variety of pies, and that being "successful" in ways that make sense to beings of such power, has a lot to do with that being's ability to exercise influence, either through bargains or through other control mechanisms. There also are plenty of people who might be greedy, crazy, or desperate enough to attempt such thing, even without a clear idea of what they're doing.

Having the patron bond (little p, little b) class feature, though, doesn't have to be the same sort of thing as having the Patron Bond (Big P, Big B) spell. The big difference is that a caster without the spell can certainly find some entity that wants to make a deal, but controlling the deal-making proceedings is often aided by incantations, rituals circles, and generally knowing what might get you better results, and what might get you killed.

The caster could simply roll the class feature version on a lower die. I'm tempted to say a d10, as it's an untrained "skill," but a wizard already has some knowledge of arcane magic's workings. So, a d14 would probably be a reasonable choice. You could even open it up to other character classes (but probably not clerics), and allow a d10 (or maybe a d8) roll. Even a warrior might try making sacrifices to beings capable of keeping the Big Sleep at bay for yet another day or two. Why wouldn't they take notice? I mean, hey, who knows where a warrior might be headed. A patron certainly would value a relationship with warlord or king, right?

Some More Stuff About Elves in Ur-Hadad

The elven caste system is as ancient as elven civilization itself, and entrenched in the minutia of elves' daily affairs. Before passage to Ore from whatever plane and or planet they came from, there was tension in that system, and many factions within elven society militated against its limitations. The Elven Dominion of Ore was one outcome of those earlier tensions. Now, though, the elves have been on Ore for millenia, both the Dominionists and the elves of the Old Kingdom. During that time they've been introduced to and (though they don't like to admit it) influenced by the ways of the other races, particularly the humans. This is especially true among the lower-caste elves.

Strangely, though, the bond with humans is not with the humans themselves--very few elves, even lower caste elves, interact regularly with the other races. Rather, the bond is with some of their political philosophy. Where elven civilization is stratified from the very top to the very bottom, human civilizations tend to allow for a lot more churning at the lowest levels. There's still aristocracy, of course. The humans aren't so crazy as to believe they could dispense with rule by their elites. But lower-class humans can rise up the ladder, especially if they're willing to step on their fellow humans to do so. This dynamic has give some lower-caste elves pretensions about How Things Should Be. Some of them have plans about this. Some of them are taking timid, tentative steps.

One odd thing that's come out of that emergence of class consciousness among lower-caste elves is in their slang. It's not uncommon to hear a lower-caste elf insult another by calling him or her "a'matrak kelorko" (more or less, "human fucker"). However, another insult has recently come into lower-caste elven parlance: "a'matrak kelorko-ul." The article "ul" in the elven language of Ore means "dead" or "dying," depending on the context. Given the sparseness of relations of any kind (let alone carnal or necrophiliac relations) among high-caste elves and humans, it's not clear why that insult would apply. If the graffiti in the elven quarter is any indication, though, the phrase seems to be growing in popularity. Also, it's becoming increasingly uncommon to see the masked and robed forms of high-caste elves among the hoi poloi of their folk, treating them almost like they treat humans and the other lesser races. Strange, that.

Morgath'ak-Lugash: The Iron Fist

As I mentioned in a previous post about the elves of planet Ore (the setting for the Metal Gods of Ur-Hadad campaign), iron is a very serious danger to the health and well-being of elves (as per the DCC RPG rules, but maybe with bigger, sharper teeth). As is the case with most societies, there are some elves who are "more equal than others." The elven nobility are largely unconcerned about their more pedestrian kinsmen, and are more than happy to let the lot of them (and their sickly, mutated children) go hang. Basically, the thinking of most elven nobles is that, if they can't afford the specialized clothing, filter masks, and treatments needed to avoid the worst effects of iron poisoning, then they shouldn't come to Ore. Ore is for their betters, and they should come, do their menial work, and then get themselves back through the portal to Elfland. Any talk about unequal treatment, or of the callousness of the nobility, is simply whining. After all, if they deserved better, then they should have been born properly.

Unfortunately, many of the lower-born elves left Elfland because they have no prospects there, either. There are no options for them but to toil in their menial trades, to serve the Court, and to go abroad to fight whomever the King sees fit for them to fight. They simply do not matter, and their suffering does not concern the elven nobility ever a little bit. Clearly, this gives rise to some resentment on the part of the lower-born (called lordak-mugh by the nobility, meaning "rust children"--and, yes, that sounds just as bad to a lower-born elf as the most virulently racist epithet one could utter). This resentment, in turn, has sparked a movement among the lower-born elves. This movement is called (in the old language of the Dominionist elves) Morgath'ak-Lugash, or "The Iron Fist."

Morgath'ak-Lugash has been simmering for a long while now. Mainly, it manifested itself in graffiti and acts of vandalism. Younger, lower-class elves have adopted symbols and slogans associated with it to appear consequential to their peers. However, the Iron Fist is no joke. It is led by a secret cabal of leaders, and has a hidden network of members, organized into cells to maintain their anonymity. Some of the leaders are powerful in their own right, but not from the nobility. Some exercise influence through criminal enterprises. Some are high-ranking members of artisans' guilds. Quietly, and so very carefully, the members of this cabal are conspiring against the elven nobility. Soon will come a time when their silence is no more. They will rise, and they will extract a bitter retribution for their suffering. The broad masses of lower-born elves may even support them, if they can provide a solution to the Iron Issue. Here's the thing though. There are rumors of a permanent cure for iron sensitivity. 

Should such a cure become broadly available, it would rock the very foundations of elven society on Ore (and perhaps even in Elfland), and upset the existing power structures. The nobility will not stand for that. They have their own league of troubleshooters to deal with Morgath'ak-Lugash, and they are on the hunt for those who would oppose them. There already have been... incidents. A young elf, known to be a member of criminal syndicate, was found recently, his limbs nailed to a tree in a public park. Iron nails, of course. He was gagged tightly to keep his screams from being heard, and his flesh carved with the slogan, "Thus, for all traitors to the King." From the state of his body, it seems as death must have been a very long time coming, and excruciatingly painful. This other organization has no name, at least not one that anyone knows, but it is known; and it is feared.

For those in the know, it has become quite obvious that there will be a confrontation in due time, and it will be bloody. The tinder is laid upon the hearth, and the kindling well-oiled. All it needs is a proper spark, and the fires of revolution will burn hot and spare none. Among the other races, only a few even have an inkling of what is happening among the elves. Even those who know (the Grand Vizier's spymaster is one such) have very little information, and are dismissive of its importance to the security of the realm. Morgath'ak-Lugash is no more than a collection of petty rabble, elvish trash who will get properly sorted out should they have the temerity to do more than gripe their wine shops and paint a few, pathetic slogans in the public squares. They are no real threat, of course, though they may cause some trouble for the elven nobility. Even so, reason the Grand Vizier's advisors, anything that keeps those high-born pricks busy and out of the affairs of men can only be a good thing. Right? So, they do not worry.

There are unfortunate facts about fire, though, that they should remember. Fire doesn't reason. Fire doesn't respect boundaries. Fire has no conscience. Fire simply burns. Left to its own devices, a well-laid fire that escapes its containment will burn everything in its path.

The Spires of the Elven Lords

Iron is poison. Iron is inescapable. Iron kills.

Since their coming to Ore, the elven people have fought a losing battle, to escape the effects of Ore's poisonous, iron-rich environment. Or, if not escape it (for this thing truly is not possible in the long term), to delay the onset of iron poisoning. There are several ways to do this, but today I will speak only of the first: The elven enclaves.

Elven culture on Ore has attempted, wherever possible, to find new ways to seal the elven people away from the outside environment, and from the the poison that saps their vitality, warps their magic, and corrodes their very souls. The most notable places where this has occurred are the Spires of Ur-Hadad. Though Man conquered the elves in His rebellion, lo these many years ago, the elves never surrendered their Spires. They still stand, a testament and a monument to elven persistence in their quixotic fight against the inevitable. In the end, there is only metal. Ore's very core spins malignantly beneath their feet, and its arteries pump iron rich magma. There is no escape, no surcease, only the long, bitter struggle against the inevitable. Then, there is death, or there is madness, or there is the choice to "sail into the West," a cryptic reference to Elfland that no elf has ever explained to outsiders. All we know is that sometimes elves return to elfland, and they don't come back.

The Spires were built to combat the iron threat, and consist of what, for lack of a better description, are the bones of ancient creatures. Though their arts are not now practiced (and are forbidden by decree), the ancient elves of the Dominion were masters of technomancy, and could create life through processes now forbidden (though it is rumored that some elven factions still follow this path). They "bred" homes, aether ships, fortresses, fell constructs bred for battle, and all manner of other things. These creatures were grown from a single seed and developed over time into the mature works of elven master artisans of this craft. Over what amounted to many generations of the lives of Men, five elven Spires grew from such seeds, rising thousands of feet into the skies above Ur-Hadad, each unique and yet the same as the others.

In appearance, the Spires look like the bleached, blue-white bones of great creatures (actually a complex diamond-like substance), shining unsullied by time under the sun and moons of Ore. Their surfaces are near-impregnable, with few windows or portals, and these well guarded. The rise, with insectile grace, into the sky, sharp points skewering the clouds layers above, disappearing from sight, far, far above. They look just a little bit like gigantic vines and fronds, laden with buds and studded with thorns, climbing toward eternity.

No non-elven person has ever entered the Spires. In fact, not even every elf has done so. They are sealed off to most, and guarded jealously against unauthorized entry. Cloistered within are the elite of elven society, whose faces are masked in strange helms and concealing armors and robes, and whose voices emerge, strange and discordant, like a chorus of angels, from the places where their mouths must be. No living human has ever seen the faces of the elven nobility, at least not in life.

Each Spire has a name Anuch-Dar (the Collective Mind), Morgath-Ka'ak (the Bloody Hand), Morgath-Gur (the Sinister Hand), Morgath-Noriel (the Adroit Hand), and Anuch-Ur (the Singular Mind). No one is quite sure what these names mean, and the elves aren't inclined to answer questions about them. In fact, the Spires are not spoken of in the hearing of non-elves, and even those elves who walk among Men refuse any attempt to discuss them, going so far as to fight duels to avoid doing so. As a result, we have little to go on but rumors. Here are a few.

• The elves are preparing an army to reconquer Ore.
• The elves are using their arcane knowledge to build a bridge to the the moons.
• The elven females are the true rulers, and use the Spires to keep their breeding stock of pure-blooded mates in harem.
• The Spires descend miles into the depths of Ore, and are just the tips of a far vaster structure that spans the entire world.
• The Spires are great ships, and could leave the surface of Ore to climb among the moons and stars.
• The creatures living in the Spires are not elves at all, but demonic creatures, and wear their concealing raiment to hide their true natures.
• The elves are attempting to cross-breed with Men, and the Spires are full of vast slave pens, technomantic laboratories, and mad elves bent on fiendish experiments, lusting after human women. 
• The Spires are great libraries of lost knowledge, jealously guarded by powerful elven mages.
• The Spires are portals to other planes, where the elves still rule great empires of cruelty and despair.

None of these rumors has been substantiated, but neither have they been disproved. And there are many more than these, each wilder than the last, each speaking to the greatest hopes and deepest fears of the Men of Ore, and each underlining the great rift that still exists between the two races.

In their enclaves, the elves are safe, and keep themselves pure from the taint of iron, for a time.

Outside of the enclaves, Men gaze suspiciously upon the Spires, pondering their threat and their promise, at the same time filled with dread and with avarice.

Outside the Spires, there also are elves. They are not the elite of elven society. They do not share in its bounty. They are not privy to its secrets. Their lives are too short, and too many of them are corrupted by iron. Their misery grows, generation by generation, as they are warped and corroded from within. They, too, gaze at the Spires. And their hatred grows a little each day, like the shoots of a thorn bush rising from blackened ground, growing from sentiment, to philosophy, to vocation. Their hatred is spreading and becoming organized, and it has a name: Morgath'ak-Lugash, the Iron Fist.

More about the Elves of Ore and the Effects of Iron

I've written previously (several times, in fact) about the Elves of Ore. While I don't like to play elves that much, I'm pretty fascinated by them as they are emerging in the Metal Gods project I've been working on with  +Adam Muszkiewicz, +Wayne Snyder, and the rest of of the Divine Order of The Purple Tentacle. My next adventure will be very elf-centric, and will examine in great detail what might happen as elves attempt to deal with iron infection, as I wrote about in another post. I'd like to follow that idea up, here.

Elves have little tolerance for ferrous materials, and particularly forged iron. It's poisonous to them in the same way that heavy metals are poisonous to humans. Iron is debilitating, physically and mentally. It may even be that it's debilitating, spiritually, as well. Elves must avoid places with high concentrations of iron, like the aptly named Iron Coast. There are even some regions of Ore with sufficient iron that the water is undrinkable by elves. This is, in part why Ur-Hadad was one of the bastions of elven culture, before Man's rebellion and eventual triumph. Much of the land there is relatively low in iron content, though no place on Ore is totally free of iron. It was the least of the evils.

So, for the Elves of Ore, dealing with this peculiar relationship with iron has challenged their artisans for as long as elves have inhabited Ore. They have learned to cultivate and spin spider silk into thread so fine that their clothing is nearly impermeable. They have labored long to find means of purifying air and water. They have developed amazing means of sealing their enclaves off, using both arcane power and mechanical inventions. Their healers have tried, though largely unsuccessfully, to create means of leaching iron from tainted elves' blood and tissues. To put a point on it, elven industry is uncommonly fixated on dealing with the iron problem, and this issue permeates the work of virtually every class of elven artisan, and many an elf has made a glorious name through successful invention of new means of avoiding infection. What they've managed to produce is more a band-aid than a cure, but the various devices, tonics, and raiment they've produced, work.

In many cases, wealthy elven characters look like fremen in still suits (from Dune) or Mass Effect quarians, hidden behind masks and filters, shrouded in folds of peculiarly tailored clothing, and wearing elaborate helms and headdresses or strange devices, which hum and glow with weird energies. These iron countermeasures also are very, very expensive (as expensive as plate mail, or even more so). Thus, elves with the means to buy them tend to be among the most elite of their race. They are long-lived and relatively healthy, avoiding most of the effects of iron (but certainly not all). Poor elves don't fare nearly as well. They are more sickly and the rate of birth defects among them is much, much higher than among wealthier members of their race. The poor also don't live nearly as long, at least if they remain on Ore.

The elves who can afford these countermeasures, though, also look alien to non-elves (and as privileged and uncaring to poor elves). They mark themselves as Other, seal their compounds off from the world and hide behind hermetically seals portals and windows, and otherwise isolate and alienate themselves from the world and its non-elven people. For this reason, any elf character who uses iron countermeasures should apply a penalty of -1 per countermeasure to his or her Personality modifier.

Modeling In-Game Effects of Iron Exposure on Elven Characters

Clearly, though, if I'm going to make this a part of play, I need a simple mechanic for doing so. The easiest thing I can do is to assume that the effects of iron impact character attributes, especially Strength and Stamina, though I think I could make an argument for effects on Agility, Personality, and Intelligence, as well.

Here's what I propose. Iron infection should cause attribute drain, and this effect can occur due to either acute exposure (e.g., being wounded with iron or steel weapons, wearing iron armor, etc.) or chronic exposure (e.g. living on Ore and not using "protection"). Acute exposure is relatively easy to track. Chronic exposure is a bit more difficult, and would require something to be tracked long term. If the mechanic is too granular it just becomes a pain to use, so I think a more abstract means is better. So, how about this?

Effects of Chronic Iron Exposure

At the beginning of each new adventure, Elf characters must make a d20 roll. If the roll is less than their character level, then the character must reduce one attribute by 1 point. If the elf in question is protected by the countermeasures discussed above, he or she may reduce the target number by 1 for each countermeasure used (up to 3). Failure to make the roll results in attribute drain of 1 point. The affected attribute could be at the option of player or Judge, or it could be rolled randomly. Luck is not affected by iron exposure, but an elf may burn 1 point of Luck to avoid the effects of a failed roll.

Example: Cresto the Elf is at level 3. Before starting a new adventure, he must roll a d20 and get a score of 3 or more. If Cresto rolls a 1 or 2, he must reduce one of his attributes by 1. He rolls a d5, getting a 2. Cresto loses 1 point of ... (*rolls randomly*)... Agility, permanently.

Effects of Acute Iron Exposure

Given the nature of the game, characters are going to get wounded a lot. Just to make this a bit more fair and simple for elven characters, acute iron exposure only occurs when they are reduced to zero hit points as a direct result of being hit with an iron or steel weapon (or trap, or whatever). That is, if the character is wounded during combat with an iron or steel weapon, and by that strike is reduced to 0 hit points, he or she must make a check just as for chronic iron exposure.

Example: Cresto (3rd level elf) is already wounded (down to 4 hit points). The fearsome Octo-man swings an axe (steel), inflicting 5 damage. Cresto goes down. After the fight, his companions attempt to "recover the body" (as per DCCRPG Rules, p. 93), and the Luck check is successful. Cresto is alive. He loses 1 point of Strength, Agility, or Stamina, as per the rules, but then must also roll a check to avoid the effects of iron exposure. He rolls a 7, which is equal to or higher than his character level. He avoids additional effects (this time). If he had failed, he would roll a d5 to determine which attribute is affected and subtract 1 point from that attribute.

Optional (Hardcore mode): Elves struck with iron weapons take an extra point of damage.

Long-term Impact on Elven Characters

Over the long term, as elves reach higher levels, the chances of debilitation increase. I think this is a simple way to measure the passage of time and how it increases chronic effects. It also makes elven characters a bit less durable over the long term, unless the elf in question takes measures to address the effects accrued. I think this could be done in any number of ways, most of which reduce to the best rule: "If you want it, then quest for it." A good mechanic also should be productive of better stories, after all, and should have a real impact on the characters and the game world. I think what I've offered here can achieve those things.