(In which I wank at length about my original fantasy setting. I've done a post on half-elves before, but they've evolved a little. Sort of. (Not really.))
It is, in far too many ways, a generic fantasy world; it was heavily inspired by all of those second edition D&D books we have lying around the house, and all that Tolkien Light (aka Dennis L. McKiernan) I read years ago. So you have your whole gamut of otherworldly races- the wise and all-powerful dragons, the equally-wise-but-slightly-more-hippy-like elves, the all-too-mortal humans, and a plethora of other humanoid and monstrous peoples.
And then there are the half-elves, my slightly feral race of bondage fetishists. *sigh*
Humans and elves don't get along all that well, but they're still crossfertile and bastard children are born all the time. At one point, they were just left to die of exposure, but then someone realized they were wasting valuable resources by just killing the children. Instead, they were raised as cheap and effective slave labor. Half-elves live much longer than humans and remain at their peak of health for much longer; they're physically stronger than elves; they're intelligent; and they're pretty.
Eventually (after a lot of rebellions and uprisings and dead people and meddling Little Gods), it was decided that complete enslavement of an entire race (such as it was) of people wasn't all that kosher, and slaves are more useful when they're happy. So the half-elves were all freed, and a compromise was reached: all half-elf children would be kept as slaves until they reached complete maturity (at the age of seventyfive or so), and then they would be freed to live as they pleased.
Enslaved half-elves wear shackles around their wrists and ankles, and their clothing has their owner's marks on it. They aren't allowed material posessions; the only thing a half-elf owns is his skin and his name- but that ownership is total and complete.
Body mods aren't just a fashion statement; they're a way of life. Most half-elves acquire full body tattoos by the time their indenture is up; fewer than twelve facial piercings are rare. It's common practice for a slave owner to lend jewelry to favored slaves, and gift them with it when their indenture ends.
Half-elves are inherently magical, and this manifests in their having very tough skins; a certain amount of magical ritual is required for tattoos or scars to 'set' properly, otherwise they fade within a few years. Most half-elves have some small amount of arcane talent, so they can perform the necessary rituals on their own. But the tattooing process has a quasi-religious significance, since it's the only sort of identifying cultural tradition they have. If there is more than one half-elf in a household (and in wealthy households, there are usually quite a few), some sort of celebration will usually accompany new tattoos or piercings.
The first tattoo a half-elf ever receives is an identification marking on the back of his neck; this mark is immediately covered, usually by a collar of some sort. It's a serious taboo to show anyone but closest family (and 'family' is a very loose term, given that very few half-elves will ever even know their parents' names) and clan members. Revealing untoward amounts of skin is taboo in general, but baring one's arms in public will, at most, get you a few stares. The name-mark is a very private thing; a half-elf cannot legally be ordered to bare his neck. Enough of the Thousand Little Gods have taken an interest in the half-elves' welfare to ensure that those who mistreat their slaves will bedealt with accordingly.
Freed half-elves can choose to leave the city entirely and seek out other half-elven communities; these communities are dependent upon freed slaves choosing to isolate themselves from mainstream society. Just like mules and other halfbreed animals, half-elves are sterile (brothels account for nearly sixty percent of half-elf ownership). Most freed slaves do leave to live with their own kind for a while, but many return to the cities to enjoy their freedom.
I'm overly fond of my stupid generic fantasy world, and I love me my little quasi-race of bondage and body mod fetishists. Someday, maybe, I'll rework the history of the world, since I came up with most of it when I was thirteen and it's all rather half-assed. (My trademark, really.)
Silverlock D'Alestri (the psychoslut half-elven pain mage assassin of Foxbird) shows up in Stella Matin; he's Theron's teacher when Theron books it out of Radrezhaea after nearly being eaten by a dragon. I think he's probably still alive by the end of Stella Matin (half-elves live between three and five centuries, and because of Silver's...habits, he's a little more long-lived than most), which gives me all sorts of opportunities to traumatize Theron further.
And the half-elves in general fascinate Bren, since Bren is hardwired to obsess over colorful, shiny things- so if I keep writing post-Fourth-Cataclysm Stella Matin snippets, they'll show up eventually. (I do love Bren, but Theron's right- he's an idiot. If you set him on fire, he'd be too busy admiring all the pretty colors to put himself out.)
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