After giving birth to the Halflings, the overjoyed Alenna walked among her awakened creations, her benevolent contributions to the great majesty of Iris. She witnessed them building homes and families, tending their crops and their young, speaking of their grand plans and their warm hearths. She watched as they ventured into unknown lands with open eyes and open minds, meeting their mortal peers and showing them that Alenna’s goal of peace was one worth reaching. The Elves and the Dwarves were reluctant at first, for upon Iris they met far more enemies than friends, but the kindness, confidence, and dedication of the Halflings quickly motivated the races to forge an alliance. The treaties composed in those wondrous days led to some of the greatest achievements Iris has ever known: the building of the Everroad, the mapping of the five continents and the five seas, the construction of Xacerythys, the Zenith’s Cathedral, and the foundation of the Concord. Even today, the ancient pacts between the Halflings and their “guarded, but very close” friends help to maintain the peace among the many myriad territories of Iris.
Yet for every miraculous success, every incredible accomplishment, dark forces lashed out at Alenna’s children, stealing from her the pride she found in their deeds. When Halflings first approached the Tieflings, olive branch in hand, they were scorned before they were slaughtered. Encounters with the vile mockeries of Morkul led to the wholesale carnage of the pursuers of peace, as many noble Halflings refused to halt in their endeavors for harmony, even when Alenna visited them herself and begged that they shun the violent beasts. Too many Halflings fell in attempts to unite the mortals of Iris, so Alenna wept for her children, lamenting that her desire for peace also caused their deaths. Perhaps more disheartening for the peace-loving goddess was that her Halflings saw no recourse against the monsters that refused their truces other than to take up arms themselves, to defend themselves from forces with which even they could not reason. It was this heartrending inevitability that crushed Alenna’s spirit, causing her to reflect on the inadequacy of her labors. To spread love and joy, she realized, one could not simply broker peace in the present. One must strive to improve the future. Alenna knew then that her toils were not complete, so she conceived new life and imbued it with the Animata. Thus, the Gnomes were born.
Just as Halflings are the mortal incarnations of Alenna’s desire for peace and joy, the Gnomes bloomed from Alenna’s curiosity and wonder, from the bliss she derives from experimentation and discovery, from her ambition to leave Iris better than she found it. Almost all Gnomes live with an itch that compels them to produce, explore, or inspire. While Dwarves, the Gnomes’ cousins in ingenuity, often create with the intent to perfect a discipline, tool, or structure, Gnomes obsess over the odd and unknown, seeking to design something that Iris has never seen before. Many of the other mortal races view Gnomes as mischievous eccentrics for this very reason; Gnomish inventions and ideas (especially of Gnomes with middling talent) are often novel simply for the sake of novelty and are either practically useless or unexpectedly dangerous. Gnomes are also infamous for their pranks and practical jokes, which, for the Gnomes that love them, are just another kind of experimentation. After all, how else would one engender a unique reaction or emotion than by presenting another with a strange and evocative situation? Yet for every sly trickster or foundering tinkerer, there is a powerful Gnomish Wizard, an ingenious alchemist, a prolific mechanic, or a renowned educator. Many scientific and cultural advancements made in the Age Wondrous, both arcane and mundane, originated in Gnomish laboratories, libraries, or studies. While most Gnomes innovate to improve the future of Iris, there are also those who seek any and all knowledge, regardless of the potential cost. Some such Gnomes simply care little for the ethics of their creativity, while others delve into dark ideas with the hope of unleashing their foul findings upon the world.
Though Gnomes are often delighted to have guests and greet them with genuine interest and hospitality, Gnomish settlements tend to be a bit out of the way and hard to find. On one hand, many Gnomes enjoy the thought that their own villages could be a visitor’s sudden discovery or challenging puzzle. On the other hand, Gnomes realize that their experiments and research can sometimes be dangerous, and that isolation is a practical way for those who don’t understand the inherent risks of the Gnomish lifestyle to avoid any unintended harm. Nevertheless, Gnomes are extremely social creatures, as the discussion and debate of new ideas is nearly as appealing as their own ideas are. Gnomish towns and villages are famously ungoverned, though there remains an implicit understanding that mayhem is unacceptable and punishable it whatever way the community sees fit. Instead, what order exists within Gnomish society comes from the Academic Collective, an intellectual congress that ensures that all knowledge on Iris is preserved, disseminated, and (when necessary) guarded. The heads of the Academic Collective are the professors, scholars, sages, and other intellectuals who teach and administrate the most well-known and regarded academies and colleges across Iris. Notably, not all members of the Collective are Gnomes, but all Gnomes recognize the Collective as the sole institution of genuine academic validation. The Collective itself is divided by subject matter, and while it is comprised of dozens of departments, the best known are the Department of Magic in Starspell, the Department of Engineering in Kalofraxus, the Department of History in Chaldea, the Department of Alchemy in Restonrodor, and the Department of Theology in Hrasveltr.
Gnomes in Iris are not especially different from those of vanilla 5E. The playful nature remains, as does their iconic obsession with tinkering, experimenting, and building. Like Halflings, I originally conceived of Gnomes on Iris as an offshoot of an existing race, specifically the Dwarves (stupid Graygem bias). As before, my penchant for accidental sabotage for these already “disrespected” PC races reared its ugly head, but at least this time around I had the example of Iris’ Halflings to correct my course. Gnomes, however, didn’t need a new thematic direction, a change that I felt Halflings required to be viewed as more than comfort-loving agriculturalists or wise-cracking kleptomaniacs. The Gnomish love of machinery and illusion is often depicted as silly (though I’m mostly referring to Dragonlance, as I am wont), but it also beautifully represents a society that adores new modes of thought, new ways to observe the world, and new inventions that change the lives of all those around them. Like the Dwarves, creativity is the focus of the Gnomes, but they approach innovation with the chaotic mindset that the children of Alenna tend to possess. Dwarves build to reinforce existing structures, even as they improve upon them, while Gnomes invent to alter the landscape, to transform lives, to apply non-trivial upgrades. It’s that tendency towards the unpredictable that keeps Gnomes invested in all things with the potential to change the world, even if they only end up charring their immediate vicinity. This perspective applies to both “sides” of the Gnomish racial personality; the 5E PHB categorizes these facets as Forest Gnomes and Rock Gnomes, but could practically be identified as Arcane Gnomes and Technical Gnomes. I see no reason why Gnomes would tinker less with arcane forces than with science and machinery, which had never really occurred to me until pondering how Gnomes might live on Iris.
Since Gnomes as a race don’t differ significantly from their prescribed 5E identity, I wanted to give them another unique characteristic that differentiated them from their mortal peers on Iris. That characteristic is their dominant social structure: the Academic Collective. Instead of an overarching government, Gnomes adopt simple practices to oversee the basic administration of their communities. Complex bureaucracies are rarely required in Gnomish society, as most Gnomes aim to sequester themselves in pursuit their goals, while occasionally meeting to discuss progress and roadblocks and procure enough resources to survive their self-imposed isolations. The gnomes who chafe under this established “order” are the ones who venture out into the world to indulge their creativity through alternative means. Some rare exceptions seek even deeper solitude than their tight-knit villages allowed, solitude that leads to incredible accomplishments… or depraved experimentation. For most Gnomes, the expansion and circulation of knowledge is far more important than the minutia of day-to-day life, which is why the highest Gnomish authority is the Collective. For those who spend most of their lives in pursuit of innovation, the acknowledgement and adoption of said innovation is paramount. The Academic Collective serves this singular purpose. While the Collective’s origins are Gnomish (as are those of many institutions of higher learning on Iris), the Collective’s leaders recognized long ago that an all-Gnomish Collective would limit the organization’s objectivity and ability to accumulate knowledge. As such, the Collective expands its purview as it sees fit, though induction into its hallowed guild is a rare and challenging endeavor, both for individuals seeking a Department position and (perhaps more so) for champions of a particular subject looking to establish their own Department. Despite all aspirations to and assertions of objectivity, the Collective is a highly competitive and political arena.* I imagine one could spend an entire campaign exploring the Collective’s shadows and secrets, but only if the players prefer intrigue and manipulation to combat and blood sport.
Much like their spiritual cousins, Gnomes are open to almost all ways of live (save perhaps one), though they do tend toward certain classes more than others. In general, Gnomes gravitate towards inventive or productive callings, which they greatly prefer to those that they identify as closely allied with deconstruction and disintegration. Many Gnomes choose to become Wizards or Warlocks, classes dedicated to the expansion of their own knowledge and experimentation with the very realities that bind Iris together. How a Gnome pursues said knowledge, whether by dedicated and studious absorption or near-lustful consumption, is what determines which of the spellcasting classes he or she adopts. Bard is another frequent choice for Gnomes, as the majesty of music is one way for the less technologically-or-academically-inclined Gnomes to vent their creative energies. There are many Gnomish Rogues (particularly of the Arcane Trickster variety) because the clever artistry of thievery and manipulation entices quite a few Gnomes. Furthermore, Gnomes with a particular “entrepreneurial spirit” are aware that rare artifacts will fetch a high-price from many a Gnomish bookworm, few of which question how an item was procured when faced with its “academic implications.” Gnomes who venture into the wilds of Iris and leave behind the trappings of official academic pursuits are uncommon, but they tend to fall equally into the Druid and Ranger camps. Gnomes with Druidic destinies often find themselves fascinated by the life of Iris, but cannot abide to study it in a classroom, electing instead to immerse themselves within nature and expand their own horizons while traveling across Iris’. Similarly, Gnomish Rangers are frequently obsessed with biology, anatomy, or taxonomy, but they quickly discover that no tome can teach them as much as observing (and hunting) subjects in their natural habitats. On the other hand, there are also Gnomish Rangers who shirk the onus of academia entirely, choosing a simple, lonely woodland life over the constant tug-of-war of science and society. Gnomish Sorcerers are as uncommon as they are in most races (read: races that are not Dragonborn or Tiefling), but those with inborn magics either find themselves to be their own intriguing course of study or shun their overly-analytic culture to follow their wild arcane urges. Few Gnomes are physically formidable enough to take up the mantle of Fighter, but those who are become masters of the martial craft, inventing styles, techniques, and disciplines that often change the perception of a given weapon or strategy. The austere and dogmatic lives of Paladins, Monks, and Clerics tend to involve more strict ceremony and discipline than most Gnomes prefer, but there are those that elect for a more regimented lifestyle and others still that believe a direct connection with the divine (or with spiritual enlightenment) is the best path toward opening their minds to the infinite possibilities of the multiverse. If there is any calling that Gnomes view with hesitance, if not scorn, it is that of the Barbarian. Most Gnomes see the Barbarian’s rage as a haze that clouds the mind, inhibiting the pursuit of knowledge, just as they see Barbarians’ destructive tendencies as contrary to the creative goals almost all Gnomes seek to achieve in one way or another.
No one knows exactly when Alenna’s stunning voice fell silent. The precise date of her departure remains the subject of many a historical debate. Regardless, it did not take long for her followers to realize that their prayers fell upon deaf ears. At first, there was a great deal of panic and fear, but Alenna’s children eventually did what they still do best: made peace and planned for the future. Even less certain than the time is the reason why Alenna abandoned her position on the council of the High Gods, why she decided to reject the world she once loved so dearly. Some claim that her children disappointed and angered her by failing to accomplish her divine mission of peace. Others believe that she could no longer watch her progeny suffer in pursuit of her impossible dreams and fled rather than endure the pain of all those whose destiny she forged. The most optimistic believe that Alenna left because she saw Iris’ future, a future that her designs had already saved. They say that Alenna now visits other realms headed into darkness, realms to which only she can bring the light of salvation. All agree on one thing: the Exodus of Alenna marked the beginning of the end for the Age Wondrous and darkened Iris forevermore.
In the next installment of Building Iris, we will meet Alenna’s demonic twin, Morkul, and show the horrors she introduced to the world.
* Anyone who suffers academia can attest to the accuracy of this particular “fantasy.”
You can read this tiny essay on entirely-fictional creatures and a lot of other amusing diversions at the N3rd Dimension.