Halfling

Halflings lived long, unhurried lives, typically reaching 100 to 130 years, with a slow and gentle decline that spared them much of the frailty other mortalborn associated with old age. Childhood stretched on correspondingly long and was rarely rushed, and a halfling in their thirties still considered themselves young. This leisurely lifespan shaped a leisurely outlook: halflings saw little reason to hurry through a life that gave them so much time to enjoy it, and treated haste as something other, shorter-lived mortalborn were welcome to.

Adult halflings stood between 2'6" and 3'6" and weighed 35 to 55 lbs, with round, cheerful faces and warm-toned, curly hair that ranged from sandy brown to deep black. Their skin could range from pale to dark brown but tended toward a weathered, ruddy tan from long days spent outdoors. Their eyes came in warm browns, greens, and hazels rarely seen in paler shades, and their ears sat flush and rounded against the head. Their feet were their most notable feature: broad, leather-soled, and toughened enough from childhood that most halflings went barefoot their whole lives, considering shoes an odd human habit born of feet that had never learned to fend for themselves. Their hands were small but dexterous, well suited to fine work such as cooking, needlework, and, among a less scrupulous few, picking locks and pockets. 

Physical differences between halfling sexes were slight, though only females possessed the anatomy for child-bearing and nursing. Halfling beauty standards favored a round, well-fed look over a lean one, since a plump halfling was widely taken as proof of a good hearth and a happy home. The gaunt, severe ideals prized in some human cultures struck most halflings as faintly sad, evidence of a life spent too far from a decent table.

Halflings carried no visible magical gifts, but many credited them with an uncanny streak of luck; the folk had a knack for landing on their feet, finding the one dry path through a bog, or slipping away from danger a moment before it arrived. Whether this was true magic or simply generations of practiced caution was a question scholars enjoyed debating and never settled on. Their feet, too, carried them in near total silence even over gravel or dry leaves, a trait homesteaders used for peaceful hunting and which city halflings occasionally put to less peaceful use.

Halfling culture valued hearth and harvest above nearly everything else, and their choice of homeland followed from that instinct. A great concentration of halflings lived in the Fencrest Foothills, a stretch of soft, fertile hills along the borders of western Commona, but they could be found in many pleasant places across the continent. Halfling homesteads were hidden from larger and more dangerous neighbors, kept secret behind generations of hedgerows and burrow-set homes, and were often only found by those who deliberately looked. Smaller communities dotted the quieter reaches of the northern Elthysi Sovereign and the southern Scycaen Imperium, though in far smaller numbers. Many halflings also lived within human cities themselves, settling into their own close-knit neighborhoods and blending readily into Common life while still keeping their own customs alive behind closed doors.

Rural halflings held tightly to their pastoral traditions, celebrating the planting and harvest with seasonal festivals, treating hospitality to any traveler who reached their door as something close to sacred duty, and eyeing personal ambition with mild suspicion. City-based halflings adapted more readily to the pace of human trade, and it was among them that the thieving reputation took hold, with small, tight-knit guilds of pickpockets and fences working the same streets that had welcomed them in. Many of these citybound halflings saw little difference between this work and a homesteader tending a garden, both being, in their eyes, simply a matter of taking what the family needed to get by.

Halflings produced relatively few Adventurers compared to other mortalborn, and those who did venture out tended to become Rogues or Spellcasters rather than adopt positions which relied on physical strength. Those who left home, especially those from homesteads, were considered uniquely brave or odd by their people, but were often underestimated by foes. Experienced adventuring parties knew to value halflings, however, as their quiet steps and steady hands proved useful in dangerous situations.

Halfling spirituality centered on the home far more than the temple. Most households kept small hearth-shrines to Asanye or Ilios to watch over a family's health, harvest, and pantry, tended through simple daily rituals like an offered crust of bread, a swept doorstep, or a candle lit against a cold night. Grand theology held little appeal for most halflings, who regarded the elaborate cosmologies favored by other mortalborn as a great deal of effort spent answering questions that a good meal and a warm bed already answered well enough.

City-based halflings, surrounded by the myriad ways which humans practiced religion, often took up worship of Umera, believing their people needed values of protection in a dangerous world. The tricksters and thieves amongst these halfling populations would sometimes secretly pray to Telyth or even fall into cults of Ixhis, relying on aid from the watchful in the night or deceptive magic to enhance their trickery. However, even among the few halflings who prayed to immoral divinities, it was rarer still to find one who truly worshipped darkness or death. Their innate attachment to the principles of a good life made a truly evil halfling an exceedingly rare find.

Halflings survived the long, perilous centuries of the Pre-Unified Age by staying small and staying quiet. Many elders credited that very unremarkableness with keeping their people alive; a homestead too modest to notice was a homestead a Dragon or Giant left alone. When Common Unification later swept across the region, the vast majority of halfling settlements joined Commona without so much as a skirmish, and most judged it a fair trade of a little attention for a great deal of protection.

Halflings maintained warm, if slightly cautious, relations with the larger mortalborn around them. Their bond with humans ran deepest, of course; even the name "halfling" originated from the fact that they appeared human, but only half the size. Citybound halflings integrated into human cities more thoroughly than almost any other mortalborn, though even the most settled among them kept a homesteader's old wariness of the size, ambition, and temper of the "big folk." Dwarfkin typically thought well of halflings, admiring their steadiness at hearth and harvest even while privately judging them a touch soft for harder work. Elfkin felt a similar gentle fondness, drawn to the halfling closeness to the land, though they viewed halfling ambitions as small and unthreatening.

Gnomekin stood apart from this pattern as the one people halflings treated as true equals. Both shared a deep love of home, craft, and life's smaller pleasures, and the feeling ran both ways. This friendship was not without its friction; most halflings found the whimsy of Gnomes tiring, preferring a simple garden to one wired with some needless clockwork invention. Even so, the two peoples lived closely enough that a Crossborn halfling was almost always part-gnome, and the heritage was common enough that halflings with sharp ears were very often not commented on at all.

Nearly all halflings spoke Common, Scycaen, or Elthysi, freely adopting the language of their larger societies. However, they kept their own language, typically also referred to as Halfling. The folk had a strong oral history, but they were loath to share their language with others, and anything that they did write down more often than not used Common. Halfling was not categorized as a secret language, but it was rare for non-halflings to ever see or hear it.

Halfling names drew from food, plants, and the small comforts of home, chosen mostly for their warmth and pleasant sound. Surnames passed down through families much as they did among humans, and tended to describe something plain and concrete: a trade, a homestead feature, or an ancestor's memorable habit. City halflings sometimes shortened or softened their surnames to fit more smoothly into human trade circles, though few gave them up entirely.

Halfling men were typically given names such as Cedivar, Wilmer, or Jomo, while halfling women were typically given names such as Keena, Marigold, or Gisela. Both paired their given names with surnames such as Underdell, Boffin, or Applepick.