Like most things in the world in which Slothjemia is set, sweeping generalities about races (other than goblinoids, which we have already discussed at length) are disregarded almost entirely. The information provided in the AD&D 2nd Edition Monstrous Compendiums is relevant for determining the overall alignment leaning for the critters and folks therein described, but as with the goblinoids, there are always aberrations. These occasional exceptions make the world more interesting, and provides a grand way to cross otherwise unbridgeable social and cultural chasms.

A fine example of this are the dark elves, or Drow of the underdark. Not all are chaotic evil, and not all of them live in the sprawling underdark, either. This is hardly a new idea, though. Fantasy fiction is awash with heroic dark elves, most notably that fellow from the Forgotten Realms books that I never bothered to read. Dark elves are still elves, and they long to frolic among natural, living things, and if they can’t stomach the daylight, they will certainly be found doing elf stuff under the moon and stars. The primary reason they dwell deep beneath the earth is because they were driven there by other elves. Creatures as long-lived as elves are great grudge holders. But over time, feelings can soften, and newer generations might not care to keep up ancient feuds. This opens up some intriguing possibilities.

Naturally, though, one mustn’t toss out a perfectly good batch of villains just to further a “let’s all just get along” approach to how things work. More often than not, folks don’t want to get along, thank you very much. And while I have done away with the concept of Lolth as a reason for the Drow to be foul-tempered and hostile, they have found plenty of reasons to be wicked all on their own. You will probably find this to be true in real life, actually. People do not need a divinely ordained reason to be nasty. We find our way to being jerks just fine without the extra help.