The Hobbish People
“Before the meal and celebration could conclude, Herlief rose from his throne-like chair. The other hobs cheered with his rise. They chanted in unison. Isaac could only discern the words myrkviðr and konungr. The rest was in a language far older. The more they chanted, though, the more he doubted himself. Perhaps he did not even understand those two words.
In this ancient language of theirs, Herlief spoke to his followers. They interrupted him only to roar and to lift their hatchets and their pints. Only Aric the Younger refrained. After a few moments, Herlief finished his speech. He drank his drink down in a single gulp and raised the glass. The others did the same. ”
The origins of the Hobbish people is of some debate amongst those few who care. Either they were born in the Anglosian lands, where invaders would be belched upon the world and eventually into the lands of the Njorish People, OR they had always been with the Njor’s.
The second of the two theories is mostly agreed upon as highly probable amongst those few who cared.
Anglosian culture did speak of such house spirits, that pixie-like fae who would occasionally wander in to teach a child a lesson. For the Njorish, however, this was quite a bit more sincere. Tradition spoke of hobs who would serve a human family in the tutoring of their child in exchange for a house to live within. Most notably, they always chose the attic. This is odd considering they were a subterranean people.
Following Sten the Weaver’s betray of the Thane of the Ulfsen Kingdom, wherein the theurgust raised an army of homunculus using Hobbish magic, the hobs were cast out of polite society. The newly victorious Anglosian invaders saw the civil instability as a sign that it was their time to intercede. With the civil war broiling from under them, the Ulfsen Kingdom fell to the Anglosian’s. Sten would soon meet a similar fate.
The hobs themselves were relatively innocent of any charges. They as a people did not rise up alongside the mighty theurgist, Sten van de Schapen (who earned the nickname of Weaver from his work with homunculi). Nevertheless, they were looked upon by their newly instated Anglosian rulers as troublesome. They were hastily cast out from the safety of the walled towns alongside the cadre of witches and sorcerers who had pledged loyalty to the theurgist. Rather than intermingle with their new cohorts, however, the hobs chose to return to their Moor.
In the town of Baile, as well as a handful of others, the hobs were allowed to remain with their families. This was entirely due to the fact that they went otherwise unnoticed. The Anglosian’s did not much care about the smaller villages and towns.
““I am looking for help from Mr. Hughes, sir,” she said, uncertain as to whether or not she had interrupted him. “He appears to have forgotten to open the shop—”
The door slammed shut before she could say anything further. Following this, the door leading from the stairwell to the bookstore opened and slammed again. She peered through the window, watching as the hob shouted at Isaac and shook the chair in violent haste. Mr. Hughes jumped to his feet, all but falling on top of himself.
Isaac rushed to the door, unlocked it, and fell out into the street. The hob was quick to make his way back upstairs, disappearing into the house above.
“Good morning, Mr. Hughes,” she said politely.
In turn, he nodded sleepily and said, “Aye, morning.””
Biology and Ceremony
The Hobbish People are known for their size nearly as well as they are for their strange attachment to humans. The tallest hob ever recorded was 3’7”. Their size was so very immense that many suspected the fellow was no hob at all.
Almost every hob, with that one exception, stopped around 2’5”. They often have little to no hair atop their bodies. Instead, many, especially those from the Moor who bear a most brutish figure, wear cloaks or furs to cover their glabrous frames. Their skin often bears an uncanny resemblance to stone, leading many to believe they were once homunculi who had somehow evolved. Any Hobbish intellectual worth their salt would scoff at such an idea.
Notably, hobs do not have sexually identified genders. Most are simply addressed as male, although many take on behaviors and attires more commonly associated with the women of the bay. In regards to reproduction, it is important to note that no human has ever seen a hob be born. It is believed that they come from eggs that are produced upon the death of another hob. How true this is, to be blunt, is unknown.
Hobbish tradition dictates a strong belief in the individual hob coming into their own via tutoring a child to adulthood. Over the course of a few students, the hob will eventually, with any luck, discern how they wish to be seen and how they wish to behave. In order to help the hob along, each is born into a family or caste. Membership to said group gifts them two things: an undeniable home somewhere AND a surname.
In the case of our protagonist, Isaac Hughes, his hob is Robin Roundcomb. The Roundcomb Family is an ancient one, dating back far before the fall of Sten the Weaver. Other notable families include the Redcaps, who was said to have helped Sten the Weaver in his plans to overthrow the Ulfsen Kingdom.
Each family’s surname is found by a gift given to them by a former student of their leaders. In the case of the Redcap Caste, a literal hat made of red woolen thread was gifted to the hob who would eventually create the Redcaps. These items become powerful over time and can even hold magical abilities imbued by their family members. To say the least, the once-nefarious Redcaps have quite a bit of power in their item.
“At the altar of sorts sat a rather odd comb. It was made of wood and certainly was hundreds of years old. Beyond that, though, the handle was carved into a rough-looking edge. A brilliant blue scrap of linen was wrapped where once the bristles of the comb had been.
Robin took a drink of cold tea that sat in a small ornate glass just next to the Family Icon. He swished it around his mouth, gritted his teeth, and grabbed hold of the knife’s handle. A thump of silver-yellow light flashed, followed quickly by a puff of nearly transparent smoke. Robin was, within the blink of an eye, gone. ”