I hear 'Elfland' and go straight to Lord Dunsany' 1924 'The King of Elfland's Daughter.' That and the prog folk / rock album that was inspired by it (Mary Hopkin, Christopher Lee etc...). I'm sure Ursula was paying homage to the novel.
A few years back, I was playing a long term PBP and my character at the time, an Elf Wizard, was trapped in the armoury of a load of angry blood-sacrificing Dwarves.
The elf was, somewhat screwed, at one being subjected to a salvo of 12-ish javelin attacks per round. Lightning was flung, deflector shields were being burned through at a rate of knots and he was stabbing away with his shortsword at those beating on him in mélée.
Riffing heavily off Mr Herbert's Litany and others from um... the bible, I hastily cobbled together this piece of dogrel, as the Elf Wizard commended his soul to his diety and made peace with going down fighting. (I later retconned it as a pre-existing Elvish battle prayer.)
Litany of Lucky Arrows.
Let our lucky arrows fly from afar,
Let our silver blades be bright,
Let our woven spells be sung in the night,
Let our wit's barbs be sharp,
Let our souls fight with you,
Viethiel Vandrian!
Let our lucky arrows fly true,
In Your Name.
Elf survived, dice were lucky, companions eventually came back after running off. Later, the character was heralded as an avatar of his god.
Love it! "Let our silver blades be bright" -- echos of Tolkein's "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness..." from Faramir.
And re: Elfland, that is indeed what Le Guin was referencing -- Lord Dunsany being one of the original fantasy authors she wanted to hold up as examples of using transportive language.
I love Abacrombie. My take on his depiction of religion is that he's more interested in human fallibility both within organised religion, or power structures in general, rather than any dismissal of spiritual practice. I feel like a lot of that comes from him choosing to show the world through dramatic character experience more than descriptive world building. That said, I've really enjoyed the religious details you've added in PTFO: Stonetop. It absolutely deepens the world, giving it texture. So, maybe Joe could learn a thing or two ;)
In terms of ttrpg play, my current campaign revolves around a world in which religion has been forgotten and the gods left weak without worship. In a last ditch effort, the gods have chosen a handful of heros to spread hope and faith, to unite and defend against an unfathomable evil which has begun its play for the surface world in the god's absence. Nothing special of note in the setup but, what has repeatedly surprised me is my players suspicion of the very gods that grant them their powers, and their reluctance to formalise any form of religion, even when it is demonstrably beneficial for themselves and the populace.
Agreed re: Abercrombie's perspective -- his version of dark/gritty fantasy means that everyone powerful is intensely flawed and fallible, and the more powerful they are, the bigger their failings.
Another author who often holds that perspective, but did an amazing job with some of his themes of spiritual practice/experience is KJ Parker. He wrote this short story called "The Sun and I" which deals with the founding of the faith (The Church of The Immortal Sun) that dominates the second world his stories are set in. I can't really talk at all about the story without spoiling it, but it's a near-perfect fusion of human fallibility and true divine experience. Strong recommend.
Re: Your campaign -- what do you reckon you're going to do with that suspicion? One of my favorite elements of at-the-table play is that when your players speculate out loud about what's going to happen or what's really going on, they're giving you a golden opportunity to either pay off their expectations and make them feel brilliant, or to subvert them in an interesting way and give them that sense of surprise people often crave in a TTRPG.
It's interesting you mention Le Guin (one of my favourite authors). I understand she was completely irreligious but she was philosophical. She translated the Tao te Ching and Toaist themes and ideas are present in so many of her works, including the Earthsea novels. The actions and speeches of Sparrowhawk in the Earthsea novels can often be almost prayer-like without having any form of organised religion.
Yeah, my sense of Le Guin is that she was deeply skeptical of power (I think she politically identified as an anarchist?), and organized religion is one of those power structures she mistrusted. Frank Herbert was similar, I think -- he was apparently raised Catholic and had a bad go of it, and wrote a lot of that struggle into Dune.
Curse of Chalion is a great example. The details of that faith are so well realized -- prayers and religious festivals are beautifully depicted, and you get a lot of the characters' inner grapplings with questions of virtue, which are often discussed through the lens of the world's pantheon. So good.
The Penric and Desdemona stories set in the same World of the Five Gods do an excellent job of portraying that faith and that of the Quadrene heretics (four gods, not five!) while letting the characters think and feel rather than cleave to religion and dogma.
I hear 'Elfland' and go straight to Lord Dunsany' 1924 'The King of Elfland's Daughter.' That and the prog folk / rock album that was inspired by it (Mary Hopkin, Christopher Lee etc...). I'm sure Ursula was paying homage to the novel.
A few years back, I was playing a long term PBP and my character at the time, an Elf Wizard, was trapped in the armoury of a load of angry blood-sacrificing Dwarves.
The elf was, somewhat screwed, at one being subjected to a salvo of 12-ish javelin attacks per round. Lightning was flung, deflector shields were being burned through at a rate of knots and he was stabbing away with his shortsword at those beating on him in mélée.
Riffing heavily off Mr Herbert's Litany and others from um... the bible, I hastily cobbled together this piece of dogrel, as the Elf Wizard commended his soul to his diety and made peace with going down fighting. (I later retconned it as a pre-existing Elvish battle prayer.)
Litany of Lucky Arrows.
Let our lucky arrows fly from afar,
Let our silver blades be bright,
Let our woven spells be sung in the night,
Let our wit's barbs be sharp,
Let our souls fight with you,
Viethiel Vandrian!
Let our lucky arrows fly true,
In Your Name.
Elf survived, dice were lucky, companions eventually came back after running off. Later, the character was heralded as an avatar of his god.
So yeah, love a bit of mysticism.
Love it! "Let our silver blades be bright" -- echos of Tolkein's "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness..." from Faramir.
And re: Elfland, that is indeed what Le Guin was referencing -- Lord Dunsany being one of the original fantasy authors she wanted to hold up as examples of using transportive language.
I love Abacrombie. My take on his depiction of religion is that he's more interested in human fallibility both within organised religion, or power structures in general, rather than any dismissal of spiritual practice. I feel like a lot of that comes from him choosing to show the world through dramatic character experience more than descriptive world building. That said, I've really enjoyed the religious details you've added in PTFO: Stonetop. It absolutely deepens the world, giving it texture. So, maybe Joe could learn a thing or two ;)
In terms of ttrpg play, my current campaign revolves around a world in which religion has been forgotten and the gods left weak without worship. In a last ditch effort, the gods have chosen a handful of heros to spread hope and faith, to unite and defend against an unfathomable evil which has begun its play for the surface world in the god's absence. Nothing special of note in the setup but, what has repeatedly surprised me is my players suspicion of the very gods that grant them their powers, and their reluctance to formalise any form of religion, even when it is demonstrably beneficial for themselves and the populace.
Agreed re: Abercrombie's perspective -- his version of dark/gritty fantasy means that everyone powerful is intensely flawed and fallible, and the more powerful they are, the bigger their failings.
Another author who often holds that perspective, but did an amazing job with some of his themes of spiritual practice/experience is KJ Parker. He wrote this short story called "The Sun and I" which deals with the founding of the faith (The Church of The Immortal Sun) that dominates the second world his stories are set in. I can't really talk at all about the story without spoiling it, but it's a near-perfect fusion of human fallibility and true divine experience. Strong recommend.
Re: Your campaign -- what do you reckon you're going to do with that suspicion? One of my favorite elements of at-the-table play is that when your players speculate out loud about what's going to happen or what's really going on, they're giving you a golden opportunity to either pay off their expectations and make them feel brilliant, or to subvert them in an interesting way and give them that sense of surprise people often crave in a TTRPG.
I'll definitely give 'The Sun and I', and KJ Parker a try. Thanks!
As for my campaign. That sounds like a great way to think of this as an opportunity. I'm getting my thinking cap on!
This is my favorite PTFO post yet. Great write-up!
Glad you like it! Based on the reaction to the last two posts, I might do more of these thinkpieces in the future.
It's interesting you mention Le Guin (one of my favourite authors). I understand she was completely irreligious but she was philosophical. She translated the Tao te Ching and Toaist themes and ideas are present in so many of her works, including the Earthsea novels. The actions and speeches of Sparrowhawk in the Earthsea novels can often be almost prayer-like without having any form of organised religion.
Yeah, my sense of Le Guin is that she was deeply skeptical of power (I think she politically identified as an anarchist?), and organized religion is one of those power structures she mistrusted. Frank Herbert was similar, I think -- he was apparently raised Catholic and had a bad go of it, and wrote a lot of that struggle into Dune.
When it comes to modern fantasy fiction and religion, Bujold's writing (particularly "The Curse of Chalion") must be mentioned as a standout.
Curse of Chalion is a great example. The details of that faith are so well realized -- prayers and religious festivals are beautifully depicted, and you get a lot of the characters' inner grapplings with questions of virtue, which are often discussed through the lens of the world's pantheon. So good.
The Penric and Desdemona stories set in the same World of the Five Gods do an excellent job of portraying that faith and that of the Quadrene heretics (four gods, not five!) while letting the characters think and feel rather than cleave to religion and dogma.
In this house, we believe the Bastard is divine
Always glad to see another Bujold appreciator! :-D
I have the latest Penric story but I'm saving it. I'm not exactly sure why.