This is all my own writing, none of it plagiarised or anything. As I am one of (I believe) two halflings and they had very little lore in the way of history I decided to write this. I do not really think it will be accepted, but if it is even considered I will be pleased. So, here it is, and if you have any question, much alike Valcust's threads, I will strive to answer them as to how I see this race.
The Halflings
The Halflings were once a very prosperous people. Living in their small towns and villages of large underground burrows, built into the hilled lands of Old Altera. Being good farmers, blessed by Shalherana in the way of plants, they prospered. Growing faster than any of the other races it seemed as if they would become the dominant species of Altera. This would not come to pass, for the one known as Queen Grief rose up and brought the Armies of Naught forward.
The Halflings were safe, for the most part, hiding out under the hills while the evil forces roamed above. However, this could not last either, for soon Queen Grief stumbled across a Halfling. His name is not known but it is known that he was twisted, corrupted into a foul being known as a Greyling. Short in stature and with grew mottled skin they were almost un-identical to their cousins. With the first came many more, Queen Grief always looking for more to join her armies. By the time the Siege of Port Silver had begun, almost a quarter of the Halfling race had been corrupted, those who were not permanently scarred by what they had seen. When, finally she was imprisoned almost a third of all the Halflings at the time were Greylings. These twisted creatures fled from the harsh hand of the Immortal Kings, down into the Hollows where they would dwell for another 1900 years.
The Halflings became a gypsy people, never staying still in once place too long, still fearing the mass changings that had occurred when Queen Grief had found a hobbit town. They began to tattoo themselves in their sadness, scarification rituals became commonplace and could last for days. Their pointed ears became the home of many rings and decorations, furthering their almost alien appearance. It became traditional for a young child to get their first tattoo, upon the backs of their hands, at age two, so it would grow with them. Soon the reason for the tattoos and scars became forgotten, but they carried on nonetheless.
Even before their fall the hobbits were cunning, able to separate a rich man from half his wealth for a small wooden charm, carved in minutes (It must be said that none ever regretted their purchases, a show of the power of words when wielded by the right person). They never felt bad about these transactions, believing if they were stupid enough to be separated from their money by these means then they wouldn’t spend the money in a sensible way anyhow. After the fall they lost even more of their morals, trying to survive in almost any way they could find, be that cheating rich men of their money or trekking through the forests in search of that deer without which his family would slowly starve.
Many generations passed and the Halflings slowly forgot what had befallen them and yet they never stopped moving. Throughout the long years after their fall and before the Exodus there was no settlement, no land that they called their own. Their traditions never weakened instead growing stronger through the long years. They slowly lost their untrusting nature, not nearly as quickly as they had gained it, but it was going. They once again became easy going, light hearted and even trusting.
Then came the Cataclysm, once again tearing apart the lifestyle of the Halfling. Although ten per cent of the total population of Altera made it through not even a hundredth of those were Halflings. Spread out in their long caravan chains they had no news about their imminent doom and so they fell to the raging fires of the Corruption.
The Halfling’s were not seen during the next 500 years. Still recovering from their grief and adjusting to their new world they hid away from the big-folk, hoping that if they had no contact with them then perhaps, maybe, hopefully the Corruption would ignore them. They began to grow again, and at the end of the 500 years heard of the ‘Exodus’. They were prepared this time, and they all travelled to Port Silver, camping outside the walls, wating for the Grand Portal to be built waiting for it to be opened. When it did open they were the first through and they scattered through the land, not waiting to help the big folk through. They still did not settle until they stumbled across the perfect location. Large hills, situated at the bend of a river. News spread of this place and soon the population began to grow. From a humble single home made for 10 it became the centre of their world, from where they could trade, grow their food and just live peacefully. And so that is the current state of affairs, the Halflings finally living in peace, safe from most, if not all danger.
The Halflings
The Halflings were once a very prosperous people. Living in their small towns and villages of large underground burrows, built into the hilled lands of Old Altera. Being good farmers, blessed by Shalherana in the way of plants, they prospered. Growing faster than any of the other races it seemed as if they would become the dominant species of Altera. This would not come to pass, for the one known as Queen Grief rose up and brought the Armies of Naught forward.
The Halflings were safe, for the most part, hiding out under the hills while the evil forces roamed above. However, this could not last either, for soon Queen Grief stumbled across a Halfling. His name is not known but it is known that he was twisted, corrupted into a foul being known as a Greyling. Short in stature and with grew mottled skin they were almost un-identical to their cousins. With the first came many more, Queen Grief always looking for more to join her armies. By the time the Siege of Port Silver had begun, almost a quarter of the Halfling race had been corrupted, those who were not permanently scarred by what they had seen. When, finally she was imprisoned almost a third of all the Halflings at the time were Greylings. These twisted creatures fled from the harsh hand of the Immortal Kings, down into the Hollows where they would dwell for another 1900 years.
The Halflings became a gypsy people, never staying still in once place too long, still fearing the mass changings that had occurred when Queen Grief had found a hobbit town. They began to tattoo themselves in their sadness, scarification rituals became commonplace and could last for days. Their pointed ears became the home of many rings and decorations, furthering their almost alien appearance. It became traditional for a young child to get their first tattoo, upon the backs of their hands, at age two, so it would grow with them. Soon the reason for the tattoos and scars became forgotten, but they carried on nonetheless.
Even before their fall the hobbits were cunning, able to separate a rich man from half his wealth for a small wooden charm, carved in minutes (It must be said that none ever regretted their purchases, a show of the power of words when wielded by the right person). They never felt bad about these transactions, believing if they were stupid enough to be separated from their money by these means then they wouldn’t spend the money in a sensible way anyhow. After the fall they lost even more of their morals, trying to survive in almost any way they could find, be that cheating rich men of their money or trekking through the forests in search of that deer without which his family would slowly starve.
Many generations passed and the Halflings slowly forgot what had befallen them and yet they never stopped moving. Throughout the long years after their fall and before the Exodus there was no settlement, no land that they called their own. Their traditions never weakened instead growing stronger through the long years. They slowly lost their untrusting nature, not nearly as quickly as they had gained it, but it was going. They once again became easy going, light hearted and even trusting.
Then came the Cataclysm, once again tearing apart the lifestyle of the Halfling. Although ten per cent of the total population of Altera made it through not even a hundredth of those were Halflings. Spread out in their long caravan chains they had no news about their imminent doom and so they fell to the raging fires of the Corruption.
The Halfling’s were not seen during the next 500 years. Still recovering from their grief and adjusting to their new world they hid away from the big-folk, hoping that if they had no contact with them then perhaps, maybe, hopefully the Corruption would ignore them. They began to grow again, and at the end of the 500 years heard of the ‘Exodus’. They were prepared this time, and they all travelled to Port Silver, camping outside the walls, wating for the Grand Portal to be built waiting for it to be opened. When it did open they were the first through and they scattered through the land, not waiting to help the big folk through. They still did not settle until they stumbled across the perfect location. Large hills, situated at the bend of a river. News spread of this place and soon the population began to grow. From a humble single home made for 10 it became the centre of their world, from where they could trade, grow their food and just live peacefully. And so that is the current state of affairs, the Halflings finally living in peace, safe from most, if not all danger.
