Ancestry: Polder

I think this might be IN the packet you'll get "soon?" So it's a little redundant including it here, but I didn't want to leave you folks on a downer, for reasons that shall become clear.

Polder are our version of hobbits. We could have made an original fantasy setting without any of these classic species, but where's the fun in that? You want to create a bunch of original alien species, go make a Science Fiction game! :D

Don't ask me where I got the name, I just made something up that looked and felt right, then found out it's a real (but mostly obscure) word and I was ok with that.

The abilities included are not final, but they're pretty cool!

You'll notice the scene doesn't spend a lot of time talking "about" polder. That's mostly because there isn't a lot to say. But it's also about my theory that any time you spend with a polder, or an Elf or whatever, you're getting to know what they're about. Any scene with Worf, you're learning about klingons, even if they're not talking about klingons.

All y'all who aren't interested in all this lore nonsense, sit tight. We got you covered. :D You don't play the lore!

Ancestry: Polder

“Wait where’d he go? Where’d that little son of a bitch go? AAAAGGH!”

Intro

After humans, polder are the most numerous and diverse ancestry in Orden. They are not humans, but they live in and amongst humans and share their gods and culture. Almost every human culture in Orden has a polder saint or a human saint venerated by polder.

Short, averaging three and a half feet tall, their origins are obscure. They are a young species who, like humans, have no single patron god. Their ability to shadowmask means they enjoy a reputation as excellent spies and thieves. Many polder consider this a base slander and point out they’re also famed as chefs, though polder can be found in every profession, especially in cities.

Polder Benefits

Polders gain the following benefits:

Underfoot

When you make an attack against a creature or object and you take up a space that is fully below the space the target takes up, you have an edge on the power roll against that creature.

Shadowmask

As a maneuver, you can flatten yourself into a shadow against a wall or the floor. While in this form, you have full awareness of your surroundings but cannot move. Shadowmask provides you with cover, and if you use Shadowmask in darkness, you are considered hidden. Abilities that target more than one square only affect you in this form if they explicitly impact the surface you are flattened against. You can use a maneuver to exit this form.

On Polders

Jago, his wife Sarah and his sister Beth sat together watching the three heroes talk. Well, Jackson Bootblack seemed to be doing most of the talking.

“This kind of shit doesn’t work if it’s just a bunch of ratcatchers like us,” the polder said. “You need the people to rise up. Been 15 years since Omund died. 15 years of fighting wolves and bandits and worse. The people welcome a tyrant after that. They like order, you know? They adapt.”

“If you stand on the grass long enough, it learns to lie flat,” A Mist Coils Around Dying Embers said. “But what do you say?”

“Eh?” the polder asked, glancing at Sir John staring at him.

“You say the people have no stomach for rebellion,” Embers said. “But what about you?”

“Oh,” the polder said, “I say it doesn’t matter much what I say. Why’s he looking at me like that?” the polder asked the high elf and pointed at Sir John. Realizing he was being rude, John shook his head to clear it.

“Sorry I just…I never met a polder before,” he said.

“Are you kidding me?” Jackson said.

“No! Sorry I just…”

“What are you, from the moon? Where you from that you never met a polder before? There's polder in every fucking village and town from here to the sea.”

“Really? That's weird. I'm from Tor, I've been all over. Just never met a polder before.”

Jackson looked at his friend, the high elf void mage. “Am I crazy?”

“You’re not crazy,” Embers smiled. She was enjoying watching two of her friends get to know each other. “John's just never run into one it seems.” 

“Well we're adorable,” the polder said, and drank some ale.

“They must have been around I guess,” John said. “I probably just never noticed.”

The polder put his drink down. “Oh thank you. Thank you very much. You know it's funny I never have any problem noticing you big assholes. One of you makes about as much noise as a cow which, I don't know how you manage that.”

“You're talking just…my voice is just as loud as yours!”

“I mean the way you walk around. Just the way you move, the way you stand up and sit down. You make so much god damn noise.” The villagers smiled at the exchange.

“Humans are loud, yes,” Embers agreed.

“Do we have to…can we talk about something else please?”

“I just…,” the polder wouldn’t let it go. “You seriously never…You never been to an inn? Cavall’s teeth, I can't count how many inns and taverns I've been to run by polder, got polder in the kitchen or waiting tables. One of the only two things we’re good at I think.”

“Yeah?” John asked. “What's the other one?”

The little man smiled. “Getting into places we ain't supposed to be.”

“Now we’re talking,” Sir John said. “You were saying we need the people behind us. I agree.”

“Yeah ok, to business. How to rally the people,” the polder took the question seriously. “It’s not hard. First we need someone they’ll rally around. I could make someone up, invent a local folk hero, but if we can find the real thing…. They just need to look the part, that’s all. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’m working on that,” John said. “But it’s…slower going than I thought. I’m betting on a long shot.”

“What's the holdup?”

John thought about how to put what he knew into words. “You know,” he shrugged. “Some people can only be heroes if they think they're above everyone else. Some people can only be heroes once they realize they're not. And some people,” he looked at his drink, the expensive clear glass the innkeep gave him, because he recognized Sir John. He turned the glass slowly on the table and now he was mostly talking to himself. “Some people still have to figure that out.”

“Which is best?” Jackson asked, and Embers could tell the little man was testing John. 

John took a deep breath and came back to reality. “Well. If we could be picky, we wouldn't need a hero,” he said.

The polder looked at the high elf and nodded, impressed. Test passed.

“Ok well if you’ve already got a candidate I could get things started. The other half is: we need a good story. Short, punchy. Something that’ll catch on, needs to be easy to relate to, but bigger than life. A tax. A toll! Bridge toll, classic. An ogre…no, three ogres. Yeah three is better. Three ogres in Ajax’s livery. A lone figure standing against them. See? Easy.”

“Where are we going to find three ogres?” John asked.

“What do you mean?” Now it was the polder’s turn to be confused.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” John said.

“I’m not…we don’t need REAL ogres.” Jackson looked at the elf. “Is he for real?”

“Trust me,” the void mage said.

“You mean you’re going to make it up!” John exclaimed.

“I…,” he looked with incredulity at the high elf void mage, then back at the human. “Yes I do mean that. Does he know what I do?” he asked the elf.

“He’ll learn,” Embers smiled. 

The polder turned back to Sir John. “Hello. I lie for a living. And I’m really good at it. Sometimes also kill people, but only if lying or running away doesn’t work.”

John turned to Embers. “I thought he was a thief.”

“I was a thief,” the polder said.

“You were a thief.”

“Yeah I was with the Clock. Probably still am, they don’t exactly let you just walk away. We sort of have an agreement. I agree to do what they tell me and they agree not to tell me to do anything.”

“Did they kick you out, or did you quit?”

“Depends on who you ask. I don't like being told what to do. It's sort of a polder thing. Hereditary or ancestral or whatever. Everybody wants a polder chef until they start trying to tell us what to cook.”

“So what are you now?”

“I’m annoying.”

The elf smiled. “He’s a troubadour. One of the best.”

Sir John looked at him, nodded. “No lute I notice. And you don’t seem the type to sit by the hearth telling stories.”

The polder grinned. “I ain’t that kind of troubadour. I’m the other kind. I think the best story is the one people tell each other.”

“Propaganda,” Sir John said, a grin spreading across his face. The polder pointed a finger at him and smiled. John heard the door to the inn open behind him. This wasn’t notable, but the gasp from the customers was.

“Hey,” the polder said, looking past John to the doorway. “Hey, I think our folk hero just showed up. Damn, he looks the part alright. Or she, I can never tell with these guys.” John turned to see.

Sir Vaantikalisax loomed just inside the doorway, his scales and armor glowing in the light of the hearth fire. Sir John shot up out of his chair, a huge smile on his face.

“I ah…,” Vaantikalisax said. He looked from John to the three peasants who were beaming with even more joy than John, if that was possible.

The knight stared at the three peasants for a moment then turned back to his friend.

“Maybe you're right,” the Dragon Knight said.