Ælf-Adal

---

The Ælf-Adal are elves. The Ælf-Adal are not elves. They were made by dreams of Gods. They were not made by Gods. They were made for us. They were made by us.
-Hastily scribbled on a blood stained note, at the edge of a cavernous void into the earth.

From Out of Nightmare

Creatures bearing a strong resemblance to an elven corpse, the Ælf-Adal are from the corrupted nightmares of living creatures. They may have been the dying dream of a coma-locked god, that cracked its sleeping skull and clambered out into our world. They may have been a shadow in the deep dark mirror-world of man, the fearful place we go to in our frightened dreams. We created them, in part, and we are in part to blame for their existence. They craft their cities out of the shades of our fears, they lock their existence into being with nightmares and terror. The Ælf-Adal come from a world composed only of the nightmares of all the thinking, sleeping minds, a strand of hallucinatory darkness shifting in its substance as dreamers wake and sleepers slip in and out of terror in the night. A world where the only stability comes from the mass memories of shared catastrophes. A world that contains all knowledge held by any thinking being, yet only in its dark reflected form. A world where predation is absolute, where all things hunt and kill and there is nothing that does not, in some small way, do harm. This is the world of the Ælf-Adal, where they slowly grew, shaping themselves from the coagulated stuff of thought. This is where they first formed independent minds, where they made their society, where they built their mighty civilization, a city seen in many dreams but never recognized. The Ælf-Adal are not-quite-real and not-quite-dream, but they are beautiful, the color of the darkness in their true form, and they never age.

Loathing and Reliable

The Ælf-Adal can live, and breathe, and eat and drink. They can, though seldom do, laugh. And they hate. Imagine an ocean, a deep one. Imagine the water is black and dark like North Sea mud. Imagine things living in it, thickly-knitted limbs churning like a mower motor left tipped up and switched on, cutting blindly in long grass. You can’t see the limbs, or the things to which the limbs attach, but you can feel their movement in the thick black sea. They regard you. They hate you. A hate so deep they tear frantically at their own flesh in substitute for reaching yours. This is how much the Ælf-Adal despise you. This is how much they control that hate. The knowledge of you stabs them in the flesh with every recollection and event. Though they know it well, the wound of you will not close. Each memory of you, each experience, all evidence of your continued being, is like a knife twisting in the skin. They will not let you die. They need your fear. They need you alive. They need to hate you.

Patient in their hatred

The Ælf-Adal are old; they know much of patience and control. They have long since tamed their hatred, living with it as you do your love. It does not warp their sanity, it fuels it. And they know that they are born from the substance of your fear and that if there was nothing left to feel afraid, they might well die. So. Everything that can be done is being done. The situation is difficult, but there is time.There is always time. They must endure, as they have for so long. They wait and plan for an inverted world, a world where societies and civilizations and empires and species exist purely to instill and sustain fear. A world where dreams enslave the dreamer. Where the walls between sleep and waking tumble down and both realms become one sweet eternal whole. They will live to see it.

Names

The Ælf-Adal have no names. Their names are thoughts. Their thoughts are shadows. Their shadows are themselves. They are their names. When forced to converse and identify with tongues what they cannot in their shadow-speak, they choose synonyms, or language variants, for hatred, and fear.
Typical Male Choices: Abhor, Alarm, Curse, Denthanus, Dread, Execrate, Fovos, Hass, Iyai, Nightmare, Odium, Revile
Typical Female Choices: Abominate, Antipathy, Bailes, Benci, Frica, Ilyandrosa, I'gra, Mania, Osere, Phlithut, Phobia, Scorn, Resent

Features

Alignment: The Ælf-Adal are filled with hate. A hate so strong it wraps around itself and drives them towards lucid thought. Chaotic and wicked as they are, they are highly intelligent.
Age: The Ælf-Adal are not born, but made as shadows. Adult or child means nothing more than what dreamers call them, and they do not age.
Size: The Ælf-Adal are medium sized creatures.
Speed: As a medium sized creature, your base speed is 30ft.
True Visage: In the light of day the Ælf-Adal resemble pale, dream-like elves with brightly colored hair. During the night, in the dark, when they sleep, or in any reflections their true faces are revealed to be horrifying corpses twisted with hate, and blackened by nightmare. Their eyes, bright as moons in daylight, turn to the smoldering embers of a burning soul. Smooth, silken hair that tempts the fingers as well as eyes turns to ragged, near-black wire tangled from ages of self-harm. In the light, gain +2 to all persuasion checks. When your true visage is revealed, gain +2 to all intimidation checks instead.
Dream-Creatures: The Ælf-Adal do not dream. They rest by stepping into nightmares. As an Ælf-Adal, you may hide within the mind of a sleeping creature. It must make a saving throw equal to 10+ your Charisma modifier. If they fail, they are plagued by nightmares they cannot describe. Not for lack of words, but for the horror they remember. You gain a bonus hit dice, determined by your class, to heal yourself with. If they succeed, you are pushed out and you gain none of the benefits of a long rest; you take 1d4 psychic damage, and spend the night clawing at your own flesh in hatred. You can only use this feature during a long rest. If you instead choose to attempt to rest as the dreamers do, it is treated as a short rest regardless of time spent resting.
Emotional Resistance: You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can't put you to sleep or make you dream.
Hateful Gaze: Once per day, you may cast Cause Fear, awakening the sense of mortality within a single creature of your choice within 30 feet that you can see. Your spellcasting ability for this is your Charisma. You cannot use this feature again until you finish a long rest.

Languages. Human, Abyssal