Humans
Masters of Adaptation, Architects of Chaos, and the Reason Nobody Gets Any Peace
"They are not the strongest. Not the oldest. Certainly not the most elegant. And yet they keep turning up in all the important chapters."
Humans Exist. And That Was Probably a Mistake.
They are not gods.
They are not monsters.
They are not even especially consistent.
And yet they survive.
Across the Infinite Elsewhere, if a world exists long enough to write a history, a human will eventually appear—either founding a nation, toppling one, or setting it on fire for dramatic effect.
Humans burn fast.
They don’t stretch across centuries. They crash into them.
Unlike elves, who perfect what they already are, or dwarves, who reinforce what they’ve always been, humans throw themselves headlong into what might be—and they rarely ask permission first. They thrive not by grace or blessing, but by the sheer, unrelenting refusal to lose.
They are short-lived, frequently underqualified, often confused—and somehow, they win anyway.
The Infinite Variations of Humanity
There is no unified human culture.
There is no archetypal human form.
There is only an ever-expanding diaspora of mistakes, miracles, and poor decisions with excellent consequences.
The following are broad categories. Exceptions exist. Often loudly.
The Empire Builders
"We Were Born to Rule"
These are the lawmakers, city-founders, economic tyrants, and political poets. They build systems so vast they forget why they started them. They conquer because someone has to bring order—and they assume it’s them.
Their empires are built on infrastructure, ideals, or increasingly baroque paperwork. Most rise. Most fall. Some simply become too expensive to dismantle.
The Survivors
"We Have Nothing, and That’s Enough"
Found in wastelands, ruins, post-cataclysms, and haunted Realms, these humans are defined not by what they have—but by what they can survive.
They do not care about noble blood or prophecy. They care about clean water, stable ground, and someone who can hold a line. They live, rebuild, and repeat. Quietly. Relentlessly.
The Explorers
"What Happens If I Push This?"
The most dangerous words in any language:
“I just want to see what happens.”
These are the map-makers, door-openers, realm-breachers, and dimensionally curious. Some call it bravery. Others call it science. The results are usually dramatic.
They discover Realms by falling into them. They name things before checking if those things are alive. They are not subtle. They are not safe. They are why the Pattern needs editors.
The Faithful
"Our God Can Beat Up Your God"
Missionaries, mystics, martyrs, and zealots—humans do faith with alarming commitment. They build belief into fortresses, dogma into weapons, and worship into war.
Some seek truth. Others seek control. Many are sincere. Some are terrifying. The divine often answers, not out of loyalty—but because humans won’t stop shouting.
The Mercenaries
"Wars Don’t Fight Themselves"
Loyalty for sale. Honour, maybe. Blade, definitely.
These humans are forged by conflict. Some fight for coin. Others for cause. A few fight because peace never gave them anything worth keeping.
Their understanding of history is mostly tactical. Their understanding of people is usually accurate. Many have seen too much. The best among them only fight when they have to. The worst never stop.
The Decadents
"We Will Feast While the World Burns"
Ruling from palaces built on the backs of others, these humans are patrons of excess. They do not plan for tomorrow. They barely remember yesterday. But they enjoy today with great flair—and great expense.
Their Realms are rich in art, corruption, and ruin. Their downfall is inevitable. Their stories remain… compelling.
The Wildcards
"You’ll Remember Me. Even If You Don’t Want To."
Not all humans fit clean categories. Some are too strange, too dangerous, or too unforgettable to classify.
The fallen kings. The accidental heroes. The inventors of new religions. The destroyers of old ones. They shape Realms without meaning to. And they leave echoes wherever they pass.
Some are born anomalies.
Some make themselves that way.
I do not catalogue Wildcards. I index their damage. — S.N.
Humans and the Inn
Humans arrive at the Inn frequently.
Usually with questions.
Sometimes with weapons.
Occasionally on fire.
The Inn does not judge them. It simply prepares additional seating.
Humans treat the Inn as refuge, reset, or revelation. They often misunderstand its function—and occasionally name drinks after themselves before finishing the paperwork. Despite this, the Inn seems to like them.
They bring stories. They leave debris. Sometimes they come back with both.
Threads and Resonance
Human Threads are volatile. They burn hot, fast, and bright. They change direction more often than most Threads have time to notice.
Their resonance is rarely deep—but often urgent.
A human Thread can create a Realm by accident. Or undo one by walking away.
The Pattern watches them closely. Not because they are powerful—but because they might be.
Common Human Quirks
Field Notes for Threadwalkers and Aspiring Roleplayers
- Starting quests with no supplies and great confidence
- Naming things that should not be named
- Forming cults by accident
- Falling in love with things explicitly marked “Do Not Touch”
- Claiming diplomatic immunity during brawls
- Trying anyway
- Refusing to admit they’re afraid until they’re screaming
Their strongest survival trait is insisting they’ll figure it out on the way down. — S.N.
Rare Lineages & Anomalies
While humanity as a whole resists fixed structure, some humans develop rare resonance:
- Myth-bearers, who echo stories that haven’t happened yet
- Shatterborn, who survive Realm collapse with memory intact
- The Twice-Threaded, who live multiple lives and remember them all
- Accord-Touched, shaped by ideological Realms but never fully bound
Some become divine. Others fragment. All are dangerous.
Some of them visit the Library.
I do not always let them in.
Final Thoughts
Humans are not the strongest.
They are not the longest-lived.
They are rarely the wisest.
But they move faster, fall harder, and rewrite more history than most gods dream of.
They are messengers, monsters, martyrs, and mechanics.
They are what happens when narrative refuses to sit still.
They are the Pattern’s great risk—and its favourite joke.
And more often than not, they are the reason everything changes.
At A Glance
What They Are
Humans are the multiverse’s most consistent accident—restless, audacious, short-lived anomalies who treat the laws of reality as suggestions and “impossible” as a dare. They are not the strongest, smartest, or most magical. They are simply too persistent to be ignored.
Where They Are Found
Everywhere. In palaces and ruins. On thrones, in trenches, or halfway up a mountain no one else thought could be climbed. If a place exists, humans have already claimed it, ruined it, or built a tavern on top of it.
How They See Themselves
As protagonists, revolutionaries, inventors, or martyrs—sometimes all at once. Whether forging kingdoms or causing catastrophes, humans are absolutely certain that history will remember them.
It usually does. For better or worse.
How Others See Them
Unpredictable. Reckless. Unreasonably effective.
Elves find them exhausting. Dwarves find them inefficient. Everyone else finds them impossible to get rid of. They are either deeply admired or grudgingly tolerated—but always accounted for.
Lifespan
Brief. But impactful.
Most humans blaze through their decades with the intensity of beings who suspect they’re being watched—and would like to leave a strong impression. Their legacy often outlives them. Their messes usually do.
Attitude Toward Power
If they don’t have it, they’ll steal it.
If they do have it, they’ll test it.
And if they lose it? They’ll write a manifesto, stage a coup, or invent something louder.
Unique Traits
Humanity’s core features are adaptability, narrative interference, and breathtaking confidence. They do not follow trends—they set them by mistake. They are capable of turning tragedy into legend, and then into merchandise.
Biggest Weaknesses
Impulse control. Overconfidence. The belief that this time, it’ll be different. Humans rarely stop to ask “should we?” before building the thing, lighting the fuse, or breaking open the door marked “do not open.”
Final Thought
Humans change everything. Sometimes they save the world. Sometimes they ruin it. Sometimes they do both in the same afternoon.
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