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The color artwork is generally of high quality in a nice variety, ranging from comic book style art to pinup to modern fantastical. The Killoren on page 105 stands out as an exceptional figure. The cover is the standard brown, denoting a general supplement. The text is a refreshing black on white with a colored border.
As with essentially all Wizards of the Coast products, the text is readable and flows well, and presents few difficulties to comprehension.
Overview
This is a supplement that covers races associated with the wilderness, naturally enough. It focuses on elves, halflings, and raptorans (a new race). Each race is treated in depth culturally. A number of other wildlands folk receive a more cursory treatment.
A number of new game mechanics are introduced, including new prestige classes, feats, and racial substitution levels. There is also a selection of new equipment, magical and mundane. Finally, the book concludes with some campaign advice.
Elves
This chapter introduces a nice selection of elven deities. It describes in some detail the lives of semi-nomadic hunter-gathers. For instance, elves, like most human societies that work on similar lines, have little specialization. Rather than having a boot-maker or a bowyer or a scribe, each elf handles most of his own economy for himself, presumably making untrained skill checks and taking 10 to go about most of his business. This fits in well with the Chaotic elven mindset. Items of exceptional craftsmanship represent the work of exceptional individuals. This chapter also addresses elven learning, religion, and magic. Unlike most wanderers, elves are a highly literate society, and this topic deserves some treatment.
I was neither impressed nor offended by the myths and tales of the elves. Since such things vary from campaign to campaign, this section serves at best as a series of suggestions. The notes on elvish language are naïve and useless, but they don’t hurt. They’re good enough for a roleplaying game, but aren’t notably superior to coming up with elvish names that “sound elvish.”
The book also touches on elven aging. Now, the Player’s Handbook lists 100 as the minimum randomly determined age for a starting elvish adventurer. Before we examine this any further, let’s glance back in time. In AD&D, elves had the same suggested starting age. However, it was emphasized that a character could have any starting age as long as it was least 17. In other words, a high starting age was the result of coming from a race of long-lived people. In the Complete Book of Elves, this picture was modified. Elves took decades to reach full physical maturity, but did not spend nearly a century as children, mentally and physically. This chapter describes the process in a consistent fashion. Elves have an extended childhood, maturing at 25, but do not culturally become adults until they have some experience under their belts. This is a very helpful point; just from reading the Player’s Handbook, it would be easy to imagine that elves are profoundly stupid, taking a century to achieve the competence of a 1st level human character, and with fewer skill points. Rather, we see here that elves simply take their time before setting off in the world. I can easily see a truly young elf as being an interesting roleplaying concept.
One problem this book does not address is elven wealth. Creating magic items takes thousands of gold pieces, yet the elves make little use of currency, preferring to barter, and to carry little in any case. How, then, do elves manage to construct so many darned +1 composite longbows? The problem may actually lie in the abstraction of magical item creation for the purposes of a game. Perhaps the elves actually go from place to place, gathering perfect crystals and tufts of griffon feathers. However, this is not addressed at all. Certainly, the player of an elven PC who is a member of his community may find it strange that he needs to come up with 25,000 gold pieces in order to create a powerful druid item.
The other big problem is elven sub-races. This book acts as if there are none. However, all the major D&D settings have distinct sub-races or at least cultures of elves. Certainly, the description of a rustic elvish settlement here does not describe a grey elf stronghold.
Halflings
At the risk of over-simplifying, let me just say that the less said here, the better. The problem with Halflings began in the changeover to D&D 3rd edition. The original Halflings, patterned strongly after Tolkien’s hobbits and flavored with a taste of Celtism, gave way to a shadier creature that partook of Krynn’s kender as well as gypsy stereotypes.
Not everyone likes kender. I can handle them in small doses. I certainly do not want to meet one outside of Krynn. The picture of Halflings as carefree felons with a curious streak does not endear them to me. It makes them slightly contemptible. Kender, at least, have the excuse that they are insane. Halflings, on the other hand, are just sneaky and perhaps grasping.
On the matter of gypsy stereotypes, I can only say the authors made unfortunate choices. In real life, the term “gypsy” applies mainly to a people called the Rom, and to a lesser extent other groups such as the Tartars. The term carries with it images of charlatanry, theft, kidnapping, and moral flexibility. Now, fantasy literature has a long tradition of borrowing from real world cultures and stereotypes. However, the idea of linking Halflings, in wagons, to roguish behavior and a sinister, secret side to a people, leaves just a little bad taste in my mouth. There are plenty of real world people who live in caravans, and many of them lead honest, and difficult, lives. Although it is not a word often used, and people usually do not understand the significance, I have made the personal choice not to use the word “gyp” to mean “swindle.” Also, then, I have been careful to avoid unflattering comparisons between fantasy races and real world ethnicities. The illustration on page 38 looks like nothing so much as the picture of a miniature Venetian gypsy picking the pocket of some unsuspecting gadjo. To put it pointedly, there’s a difference between drawing a group of goblins sitting around a stewpot with a Halfling about to go into the stew, and then putting bones through the goblins’ noses. Some people may consider gypsy stereotypes to be harmless and cute, but they probably aren’t being gassed by Nazis, and consequently have the advantage of time and distance when they laugh.
The other main addition to the D&D Halfling is the introduction of Yondalla’s shadow, a lesser deity of her essence that engages in skullduggery. This is an interesting idea, but things get quickly out of hand. To believe this book, Halfling caravans are teaming with killer Halflings ninjas just looking for an excuse to go Matrix on some Halfling-hating town.
My suggestion would be to pretend this entire chapter doesn’t exist, with the possible exception of borrowing the names and portfolios of the deities. You would be better off using one of Doc Tolkien’s appendices, Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, GURPS Yrth, or even the movie Willow as a guide to playing the little guys.
Frankly, I just don’t understand a chapter on Halflings that does not acknowledge the idea that some Halflings might be farmers.
Raptorans
Raptorans are a new player race. Like the other books in this series, the new races are intended to introduce new options for players. In many cases, the races seem to be aimed at taking a popular monster and coming up with something with a low Level Adjustment. Just as Eberron brought as a +0 LA construct (sort of), and Races of Stone gave us a +1 LA race that is Large (sort of), Races of the Wild introduces a flying PC race.
It should have given the designers more pause to try to come up with a +0 LA flying race. It should be obvious on the face of it why this is not necessarily a good idea. Nevertheless, I will allow they did a pretty good job of balancing what they came up with. Essentially, raptorans can only glide, not walk, until 5th level. They gradually become more powerful fliers, progressing so that their flying abilities do not outstrip their Effective Character Level. Other interesting aspects are the Pact with the Wind Lords, an alliance with powerful air elementals that grants them some advantages with air magic, and Wing-Aided Movement, a +10 to Jump checks using their wings for extra lift.
There are some conceptual problems with the raptorans. First, let us address their Pact with the Wind Lords, source of both their flight and their magical powers. While this is a cool concept, I don’t know of any elemental entity capable of bestowing this kind of power. They have a raptoran pantheon of deities. This is obviously a story issue. However, I can’t think of any other race that benefits from a similar pact. Deities, divine forces, and especially powerful magical entities such as elementals are far from omnipresent in D&D. There simply aren’t spirits listening on the wind. Air elementals are distinct entities, and they do not have a propensity for affecting mortal creatures in a fashion similar to greater deities. It also seems like there ought to be a mechanism for the pact being broken.
Another issue is there game mechanics compared to other D&D creatures. Most powerful humanoids, such as gnolls and lizard folk, have 2 HD. Raptorans, with their twelve foot wingspans, clearly qualify despite their low mass. It’s also strange that a flying folk would have neither a bonus to Strength nor to Dexterity. Despite being aloof and being described as rarely arcane spellcasters, they have no penalty to Charisma. Finally, despite being a race of nature-worshippers, their favored class is cleric, not druid. Why would raptoran priests favor heavy armor and the ability to turn undead over equipment made of natural materials and magic of nature and the elements?
Finally, there is the issue of raptoran character level. Page 76 says the following:
“A young raptoran can return from her Walk of the Four Winds only when she can fly back up to the cliff dwelling under her own power…. One quarter of raptorans never return…”
From this, we can surmise that the majority of a raptoran community are 5th level or higher adventurers. That should set off some alarm bells for you. Keep in mind that even the long-lived elves rarely attain higher than 1st or 2nd level. That the raptorans would boast so many mid level characters suggest an immensely powerful race. Irrespective of their racial modifiers and such, no one would dare challenge raptoran territory once they realized their lands are guarded by wings of 5th and 6th level fighters and rangers, backed up by 5th level spellcasters. The Monster Manual says “some” elves encountered outside their homelands are 1st level warriors, in contrast to other races, which typically say “most.” For the raptorans, they come out and say that Raptoran communities are nothing like the human communities described in the DMG; raptoran communities are conclaves of high level, powerful characters attended by a few lower level young adults. There are reasons to apply this philosophy to raptorans, as well as to members of races such as elves, githyanki, and “blue” goblins. However, this is a break from the assumptions of the core books and most other supplements.
All in all, I’d say raptorans have some potential, but are probably a do-over.
Other Races
This chapter introduces a nice variety of other PC suggestions.
Catfolk, which originally appeared in the Miniatures Handbook, are +1 LA characters with very high Dexterity (+4). They’re a nomadic people. They are essential for the cat or furry lover in your group. However, they aren’t notably different in outlook from, say, wood elves or even a human wanderer. They have a certain exotic flair. Unlike Anthropomorphic Cats, from Savage Species, these cats do not have functional claws. Catfolk are completely two-dimensional, but don’t seem to have any faults from a gaming standpoint. It’s hard to discern why they exist, but the fact that they do doesn’t seem to present any major problems.
Centaurs are a nearly ideal monstrous humanoid race for mid-level games (ECL 6). This book doesn’t provide much detail, but does at least convey the idea of an extremely insular people with little attachment to things, places, or the outside world. Centaurs, like the other races in this chapter, get a Savage Species style “racial class” that allows you to play a centaur from ECL 1, eventually attaining your full might at ECL 6.
Gnolls get a slight makeover. Not all gnolls are unspeakably evil, and this book suggests that some gnoll tribes may be more rugged than cruel. Such tribes reject Yeenoghu. While that’s certainly a useful concept, I feel this brief section downplays the psychology of individual gnolls who reject their tribes. In any case, gnolls are a playable, interesting choice for a PC who faces many social obstacles. With an ECL of 3, a gnoll is a good “monster” PC choice.
Killoren are mysterious fey. Unlike most creatures of the wilds, they are aggressive and active, striking out at despoilers of nature. As a new race, they are an interesting plot point, and potentially a powerful foe or ally to PCs. They are also playable +0 LA characters. They have an interesting ability, Manifest Nature’s Might, that allows them to take on a certain aspect, meaning they have essentially three sets of racial bonuses and three demeanors, according to the form of nature they are personifying. Despite their alleged power, there isn’t much to distinguish them from humanoid races in terms of abilities.
Prestige Classes
This chapter opens, appropriately enough, with a list of prestige classes from other books which apply well, including the essential Bladesinger (CW). Apart from the financial advantage for Wizards if you buy their other books, the suggestions are sound and useful for players.
The Arcane Hierophont is one of those Prestige Classes that makes my teeth grind. With fairly formidable entry requirements and a reasonable progression of abilities, there’s not much to hate about it at first glance. However, the Arcane Hierophont is essentially the Mystic Theurge with class abilities. Compared to the MT, you face a slightly stiffer entry requirement if you are a druid/wizard (BAB must be +4), but none if you are a druid/sorcerer. Like the MT, they gain arcane and divine spellcasting at each level. Additionally, the class improves wild shape, if you have it (in other words, if you entered the class as a 5th level druid). That’s not much of a problem, since delaying entrance to the class also delays the double spellcasting advancement. You can also cast spells through animals and plants. You also gain a “companion familiar,” who combines the traits of a familiar and an animal companion, while incurring no death penalty. The kicker here is that compared to the MT, who is a double dose of spellcasting and nothing else, the Arcane Hierophont gains a medium BAB progression, a larger hit die (d6), more skill points, and a better skill list. The AH loses very little compared to a druid who simply has a few levels of wizard, and gains a considerable amount. The real issue is that you would have to be insane to take MT instead of AH if you are already a druid/sorcerer anyway. You would gain nothing and throw away much. It’s not very often that you see two Prestige Classes of around the same power level that occupy the same niche that are of such obviously different utility. Arcane Hierophonts are also not associated with any particular race. Was this Races of the Wild, or Munchkins Gone Wild Summer Vacation?
The Champion of Correlon Larethian is a good class. First, it fulfills a role niche. Since elves don’t have a lot of paladins, they could use some kind of archetypal champion. Second, they are champions of a specific elven deity, tying them into the world in a way that makes sense. Third, they face a balance problem, namely, that high-level elves may have a much higher Dexterity than good armor will allow them to make use of. Since elves already take a Constitution hit, this class helps to bolster elven swordsmen. Basically, they are nonevil knights of mid-level who gain lay on hands and a smite-like ability, and gradually gain the ability to overcome the penalties of wearing heavy armor by increasing the maximum Dex bonus and removing movement penalties. Thus, even in mithril plate, a high-level elven fighter can take advantage of his Dex bonus to AC as well as feats such as Spring Attack. Champions of Correlon Larethian are also mounted warriors.
Luckstealers are Halfling gambler-mages who can alter probability. Other than the focus on Halflings, it’s basically an interesting spellcaster variant. Luckstealers can be divine or arcane casters. You gain a luck pool that allows you to influence die results. It’s appropriate for roguish Halflings, but I don’t think luckstealing has to be a Halfling province.
The Ruathar is an “elf-friend.” It’s a catchall Prestige Class with three levels that advances most useful abilities for most classes. It has medium BAB, good Reflexes and Will, full spellcasting for any one class, a fair skill list, a d6 hit die, and some class abilities. The Word of Friendship is a weird little ability that basically allows them to identify themselves to elves through magic and language as friends of the elvish people. I question how difficult such a thing would be to forge. They also receive a Gift of the Elves, such as boots of elvenkind, a cloak of elvenkind, or an elvish magical weapon. For a 6th level character, such a gift is a nice, but hardly a life-changing event. Gradually, they gain some elvish traits, including low light vision and long life.
The idea of being an “elf-friend” is a good story idea. I’m not sure how well that translates into a Prestige Class. For instance, what if a group receives such a recognition, but the paladin would rather take another paladin level? You then have the strange situation where only three of the four learn the Word of Friendship and receive a gift, although all are worthy friends of the elves. Despite some attempts to make the Prestige Class general, it is not appealing to some kinds of characters. It is generally most appealing to multiclassed character. However, ironically enough, a 3rd level fighter, 3rd level wizard is one of the few examples of a 6th level character who does not qualify for the class unless they max out one skill (which is kind of painful for someone whose skill list overlaps so little).
The Skypledged are divine raptoran spellcasters with a special affinity for air and storm magic. They gain a divine spellpool that allows clerics to use druid spells and druids to use cleric spells. They must forego earth, fire, or water spells as part of their religious vows. You can also call on the elemental lords of air to do things like catch your friends from falling or summoning Cyclonic Doom. Although the abilities are hardly unbalanced, I have reservations about including all-knowing, all-catching, all-singing and dancing air elementals in a standard D&D game. According to page 129, the elemental lords are approximately elder air elementals with cleric or sorcerer levels…. not entities I can picture reaching across the planar boundaries to save a careless dwarf.
Stormtalons are “consummate aerial warriors.” They learn to use their talons as deadly weapons and gain lots of aerial feets. Err, Feats.
Whisperknifes are Halfling vigilantes. Like a cross between ninja, mob enforcers, and folk heroes, they slip in quietly and massacre those who do wrong to the Halflings. They have assassin-like nonmagical abilities. I’m not sure whether they explain why communities would tolerate Halflings as written, at all, or whether they seem to be one more reason why all Halflings should arguably be exterminated. Apparently, whisperknives exist to avenge Halfling pickpockets who are evilly beaten or killed by their intended victims. They are hard gangstas.
Wildrunners are elves who embrace nature’s fury. Their primal scream gives them barbarian-like combat bonuses and can frighten their enemies. They also get Scent, Hide in Plain Sight, and Unfettered Stride. I mean, what the Hell, man? I fail to see anything they bring to the table that couldn’t be covered by some combination of barbarian and ranger, maybe with the Kiai Shout feats from Complete Warrior. Basically, I think they’re as lame as they are unnecessary. A straight up elf barbarian is just far simpler and sensible. I have a hard time picturing feral screaming elves, but maybe I haven’t rubbed myself with enough woad to get into that.
Character Options
The new Feats are mostly general. Catfolk can take Catfolk Pounce, Halflings can take Yondalla’s Sense and/or Dallah Thaun’s Luck, and elves can take Focused Mind and Elf Dilettante. Killoren can take feats that enhance their aspect. Some feats are flight-oriented, for raptorans. Nothing jumped out at me as an amazingly nifty feat, but nothing rubbed me the wrong way, either. There are some new Tactical Feats related to being small or flying.
Racial substitution levels are a minor class variations. Essentially, they either vary a class and race combination for flavor or shore up a weakness. Each substitution level replaces one class feature with an alternate. For instance, a 1st level elf wizard can take Generalist Wizardry instead of the ability to specialize in a school. Of course, if you weren’t planning on specializing anyway, this amounts to free learned spells, which is why racial substitution levels fill me with suspicion. On the other hand, swapping out a 5th level wizard’s bonus feat for a bonus archery-related feat seems fine, and may make somebody very happy.
There are too many substitution levels with too many unforeseeable consequences to rate them all. I would suggest any GM to exercise caution when using these in most campaigns. Alternatively, allow them all indiscriminately, and let your players vent their powergaming impulses in minor acts of min-maxing. Personally, I don’t feel like they’re that useful. It creates interesting situations where a group of Halfling druids may have surprisingly varied abilities, if each one selects or declines different options than their fellows. That can be good (choice is good) or bad (if the druids are all members of the same tradition, shouldn’t they all have Thousand Faces, or all have Camouflage, rather than some of each?). I also question what demands there be Halfling rogue substitution levels; if ever a class and race were a perfect fit in the beginning, that would be it.
Equipment
There are some new arrow types which might prove interesting. The are also new exotic weapons of highly varied interest.
Foot spikes and footbows are raptoran weapons used in flight. That just makes sense. I happen to know there is such a thing as a footbow, but this weapon is obviously more effective in the hands (feet) of a flying warrior than a sitting one.
A lynxpaw is a good example of a stupid new weapon. I don’t mean to offend anyone, and if you’re the author of this book, please don’t take this personally. That said, a combination rapier and light flail is just about the stupidest thing I have ever heard of this side of a two-bladed scimitar or a dire flail.
Skiprocks are a Halfling weapon. They’re cute enough, although I have a hard time picturing a stone hitting something hard enough to injure after already striking one target.
I despise elven blades. Elven courtblades are basically two-handers you can use Weapon Finesse with, doing less damage than a greatsword but with a better critical range. Elven thinblades are like rapiers, only more rapiery. Elven lightblades are like shortswords, but more daggery. Each one is the equivalent to a rapier of that size, staged up one die. In other words, an elven thinblade is a sort of “bastard rapier.” It has always been my viewpoint that a rapier is the thinnest, lightest thing you can call a weapon. Elves are probably the most likely to wield a rapier of any race. What possible story purpose do these weapons serve that can’t be done as well with a masterwork rapier? In fact, rapiers are a much later era weapon, historically, than most D&D weapons. There are reasons to say rapiers would be used almost exclusively by elves, apart from adventurers who have picked up the habit from them. Rapiers are already an impossibly long and thin blade used with finesse. I think it says a lot that each of these weapons is treated as the equivalent of one or more other weapons for the purposes of various feats, such as Weapon Focus. I would be satisfied if they were in some fashion different from regular weapons, but they are simply better. A thinblade is a rapier that does more damage, or a longsword with a better threat range than can take advantage of Weapon Finesse.
The new armors modifications are forestwarden shroud (helps maneuver in underbrush) and netcutter spikes (like it sounds). Leafweave armor is made from alchemically treated leaves (using non-existent elven goldpieces to buy materials, I suppose). Do we really need leaf armor? Come on, man. Thistledown makes improved padded armor that helps you hide. Wildwood is very strong and repairs itself. Let’s face it, it’s all weird stuff. The only part of this section that made me happy was a price and stats for various sets of mithril armor.
As far as magical items go, there’s a swordbow. Moving right along, then.
There are some nice sets of animal or tree themed magical armors. On the whole this section is slim, combat-biased, and tragically lame.
Campaigns in the Wild
Basically, this section describes how to assemble a group of PCs that includes races of the wild, and describes adventuring in their lands somewhat. It lists appropriate demographics for the different races. There are also some sample NPCs. As is usually the case, this is the weakest section of the book when it should be the strongest. We have plenty of stats for stuff. What we need is help solving issues of campaign design and making the most of characters’ unique heritages.
There are also stats for a brixashulty, a “goatlike creature” that is as “surefooted as a mule, as loyal as a dog, as calm as a milk cow, and as tough as a badger.” I wonder how they taste? In addition to all these wonderful qualities and some nice stats for a 2 HD creature, we find that Halflings get a price break of sort on brixashulties if used as animal companions. Non-halflings take a 4 HD hit, as though it were a particularly useful beast, whereas Halflings get take no penalty. It’s about as tough as a wolf, and can additionally be used for riding. Clearly, this is the animal companion of choice for Halflings. I guess all those illustrations of Halflings on riding dogs in other books must have been done by ill-informed scholars.
There’s also a bird bred by Halflings, and the Elven Hound, a magical beast of extraordinary ferocity.
Evaluation
Usually, books of this sort are most useful when they either allow you to cherry pick, or flesh something out in enough detail so that you don’t have to. Ideally, you get both.
This book definitely fails the cherry picking test. Apart from a couple of shining spots, like the Champion of Correlon Larethian and some fairly useful feats, this book is most useful to games that feature lots of Halflings and raptorans, and largely insists you buy heavily into this year’s model of Halfling.
As for the other, I found the description of the races of the wild to be unconvincing, often vague, and occasionally illogical. I don’t see this book shoring up most campaigns to any significant degree. Rather, I’d suggest you depend on campaign material written for that setting.
Judged in technical merits, most of the material in the book is well-worked and balanced, and the text internally consistent, at least.
Overall, I’d have to say this book was a disappointment, although I have been reluctant to part with it in case something proved useful. I’ve made zero use of any of the material in it in any of my games or preparing for any of my games. I would caution against buying this book new without perusing it carefully. If you find it used at a good price, and are looking for a time server and some nifty material, it can be a worthwhile purchase.
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