- Older fantasy media had a nasty habit of putting unnecessary emphasis on the contrasts between races like elves and races like orcs. It was the fair, intelligent and good-natured folk versus the barbaric, senseless and war-mongering folk. Knowing what I touched on earlier about orcs and marginalization, you can see why I wasn’t too fond of how fantasy media framed elves. God forbid if they did it while implying that elves are seen as “superior” to other races. I wonder where I’ve heard that notion before!
- I didn’t know it yet as a child, but I am a black elf myself. This past hatred was also a rejection of the self. I rarely ever saw elves like me. Name any eurocentric beauty standard you can think of, and I guarantee it’ll be somewhere in the description of an elven character. Even in one of my own sources (World of Warcraft), Blizzard’s elves are either pale and blonde-haired or lean heavier in the imagination department (ex: Night Elves). Isolation from your own kind can be heavy, even when you aren’t aware that you belong yet.
Finding Kinship in Hoards Great and Small
Sivaan of Candlekeep
December 31st, 2024
Day 22 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge
If there is any staple I hate in fantasy, it is the quintessential “enemy” race. A tool for combat encounters and poorly written narratives, I could go on and on about how the execution of this concept leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Be that as it may, I will give it credit for one thing. Some of the groups that are introduced as “enemy” races tend to be the groups that I identify with the most. Two of which being Orcs and Kobolds, especially in Dungeons & Dragons.
Nowadays, both groups received quite the rebrand amongst fantasy fans and writers alike. In the case of orcs, I’ve been seeing them in more sympathetic positions than I had in my childhood. Long before that, I couldn’t help but feel attached to them no matter how “evil” they were made out to be. Looking back at Dungeons & Dragons, the game prided itself on incorporating everything that shapes an ideal fantasy experience… even its unsavory qualities. On one hand, that’s part of why it became such a staple in pop culture. On the other hand, I found it hard to overlook said qualities. You don’t truly love something enough if you don’t have the heart to see its flaws where they lay. That’s what I think, at least.Even as a child, it didn’t surprise me to see orcs depicted with the same flavor of inhumanity as many racial stereotypes you’d find on Earth. Couple that with the artistic choices of exaggerated features and tribalist imagery, and you’ve got a recipe for one of the most controversial figures in the genre. None of it went over my head. Rather, it gave me the idea to explore these characters beyond the page.
I wasn’t convinced by this painting of orcs as club-swinging, bloodlust-driven brutes. When it seemed like their purpose was to be beaten by medieval-esque heroes, it didn’t sit right with me. I felt like there was something more to orcs. One-dimensional portrayals held no weight, not as long as I could see the humanity in them. On top of that, outside influences stoked these feelings further. I owned some movies about a certain green-skinned, swamp-dwelling man on DVD. Said man reminded me of the tusk-sporting people I connected to. That alone did more than enough convincing without having to involve orcs. Orcs and the ogres of Dreamwork’s Shrek franchise were so alike in their treatment that it solidified my belief. These books and games had it all wrong. Of course, I couldn’t tell the publishers that as a fourth grader. It’d be a pointless endeavor. Even so, I can say with confidence that orcs and I go way back. When you grow up in a place that’s as tumultuous as many fantasy settings against anyone who is “outside the norm”, you start to connect those dots at a young age. It’s unfortunate, but I saw the good in it as well. I saw that I had enough mind to see people as people, fictional or otherwise, despite my circumstances. Can’t say the same for the kinds of folks I come across in the Southeast.
Amidst my kinship towards orcs, guilt would consume me whenever I was put in a position to confront them. Plenty of players know the deal. In some combat scenarios, they must go out of their way to fight an orc hoard in order to progress, but in a metaphorical sense, all I knew was the opposite: I was the orc standing before the hero. I was the one who didn’t belong, who got in the way by simply existing.
Defeating them wasn’t my goal.
Communing with them was.
I find it ironic that I feel closer to orcs than I do with any popular race, given that I have a few elven fictomeres. I see a lot of myself in orcs and how they are treated. This is because of the marginalization I experience in this world, largely in context to my racial identity but I can see where it overlaps with other experiences as well. I can’t say the same about most depictions of elvenkind, however.
Even curiouser, I used to hate most depictions of elvenkind. These feelings developed for two reasons:
All in all, it brought me back to that place where these settings felt no different than the world around me. To this day, I still find myself annoyed by older entries in fantasy literature for how orcs are depicted in contrast to others. It’s to be expected, but that doesn’t make it any less grating to read. One such case is whenever I read Tolkien’s works. Granted, I can tolerate their behavior in The Hobbit, or There and Back Again. Luckily, they’re more like ogres in fairy tales than the off-putting tribalist caricatures I’m used to. I can’t say the same about how Dungeons & Dragons treated its orcs in the beginning, though.
Of the hearttypes that I have, very few of them have been with me for this long. Of course, I didn’t have a word for it as an elementary schooler but I finally did when I awakened. The only hearttype that have been around as long as orcs are werewolves, and that’s largely because of my own experience with ailuranthropy. Besides that, there’s Kovu. The reasons behind my heartedness towards him are far too personal for me to convey here, but I can confirm that I’ve resonated with him since my childhood too. Yet, of those three, I still see my orc hearttype as the most complex. But what of kobolds?
To avoid confusion, I must specify that my heartedness is towards the kobolds of Dungeons & Dragons. I don’t experience heartedness towards kobolds on a general basis. If I went into detail about the many ways in which fictional kobolds have branched off from their folkloric counterparts in Germany, I’d be going on a massive tangent.
But, I digress. There’s still a question left to be answered: how did I find resonance in Dungeons & Dragons’s kobolds?
My heartedness towards kobolds isn’t as complicated as my case towards orcs, thankfully. When I think of kobolds, I think of community. I think this because when it comes to kobolds, they have a “strength in numbers” sort of culture that many enemy races exhibit. It’s not the first thing that a lot of players would say, I’ll tell you that much.
Now, the obvious explanation behind this behavior would be to accommodate the physical disadvantages of fighting on their own.
In my opinion, the best explanation lies in Volo’s Guide to Monsters:
“Kobolds are often dismissed as cowardly, foolish, and weak, but these little reptilian creatures actually have a strong social structure that stresses devotion to the tribe, are clever with their hands, and viciously work together in order to overcome their physical limitations.”
While it’s accurate to point out those limitations, I love how this excerpt describes kobolds. Not only is there the implication that kobolds actively look out for each other, it is flat-out stated that kobolds are fiercely devoted their people. This is why community comes to mind, which is something that I admire so much about D&D’s least respected “enemies”. It’s uncommon for groups of “enemy” races to be seen as communities. If anything, they are treated as hostile gangs or thieving miscreants. Notably, they usually have a pecking order in combat encounters. Traveling parties are expected to pick off the little guys first and deal with the big bad last. We all know the deal.A good example of this are bugbears and goblins. Technically, bugbears are also goblinfolk in Dungeons & Dragons; yet, they are rarely ever depicted as equals to their goblin companions. Instead, bugbears’ relationship to other goblins is similar to the typical relationship that’s depicted between kobolds and dragons: a massive master and their small, scrambling minions. When exploring my draconity, I never could relate to the idea of having kobolds at my beck and call. I deeply respect the kobolds of my source. The thought of tearing these communities apart just to have a few underlings made my stomach convulse. Furthermore, kobolds are no different than dragonborns, draconians and lizardfolk to me. The point being that their size and portrayals aren’t excuses to deny them their personhood.
If you treat a dragonborn as you would a human or an elf, why not do the same towards a kobold?
Does the hardiness of a mountain dwarf trump the cleverness of a kobold? If I weighed either concept on a scale, they’d balance out.
Yet, I’d wager that the dwarf gains more respect than the kobold because the kobold lacks an overtly human appearance. The closest thing they have to it is their anthropomorphic physiology. Fantasy dwarves are also more “familiar”, what with their background as both playable characters and dependable allies. Kobolds, however, are almost always combatants that block one’s path. In short, anthropocentrism is no stranger to speculative fiction. Many a fictional world is rich with nonhuman people and their societies, but that doesn’t mean the focus will ever turn away from humans and those that favor them.
Despite my resonance with kobolds having such simple roots, it also shares some similarities with my feelings towards orcs. Much of my heartedness revolves around the fact that I too belong to a heavily ostracized, demonized community and have been underestimated for things that I can’t change. I could never see these groups as my “enemies”, not as campaigns and stories would want me to. Seeing how this world treats me and my people, I hold orcs and kobolds in high regards. The best way I can describe this type of heartedness is solidarity.
I understand their plight. I support their resolve. I share their desire to live above all else.
I found kinship in hoards great and small, and they inspire me as I continue to embrace who I am.