Hobbits
The People of the Ubros Jungle
Those who venture into the Ubros Jungle soon learn that it is not an untamed wilderness, but a living, cultivated realm shaped by patient hands and ancient memory. Two peoples call this jungle home.
The Tabaxi roam the deepest reaches, where the canopy chokes out the sun and the jungle grows wild and predatory. Their villages cling to the upper boughs and vine-choked ridges, places few outsiders ever see.
Along the western fringe—where the jungle thins toward the Vale Marsh and the Black Mountains—dwell the hobbits. Here the forest is quieter, older, and carefully tended. The druids of the jungle exist apart from them, respectful but separate, bound instead to the ancient trees and the fountain fed by their roots. Around that fountain, the hobbits built their society, not in stone or steel, but in patience.
The Hidden Homes of the Hobbits
Hobbits of the Ubros do not build upward. They burrow.
Their homes are carved beneath the roots of massive trees, shaped into warm, enclosed hobbit-holes that offer comfort from heat, rain, and the dangers of the jungle. These burrows are private places, meant for rest and reflection.
Above, suspended among the trunks, are the spaces of community. Trees old enough—or dead enough—are hollowed and reinforced to form ladders, staircases, and platforms without harming the tree. Rope bridges and living vines connect gathering spaces high above the forest floor, keeping hobbits safely beyond the reach of jungle predators.
Over generations, the hobbits have become master gardeners. They do not conquer the jungle; they guide it. Vines are trained, paths grown rather than cut, and entire ecosystems quietly shaped into a vast, living garden that only hobbits truly understand.
A Society Without Greed
Hobbit society is often described by outsiders as impossible.
There is no lord, no council demanding tribute, no law compelling generosity. And yet, food is shared, homes are maintained, and no one goes without. This works because greed, hoarding, and gluttony simply do not take root in hobbit hearts. When a hobbit shares with a neighbor, it is not obedience—it is instinct.
Their culture thrives on willing cooperation, sustained by abundance and trust rather than authority.
Culture, Memory, and the Weight of Routine
Hobbits are storytellers by nature. Evenings are spent recounting tales—often hours long—of events that would seem utterly mundane to other races. A strange chicken. A bent root. A visitor who arrived five minutes early.
They value routine above all else. Predictability is comfort, and comfort is wisdom. Their memories are extraordinary; hobbits recall conversations word for word decades later, and disputes are often settled by who remembers best.
They value patience, nature, and community, but also individual seclusion. While deeply communal, they dislike isolation. There are no wandering hobbits, no hermits, no lone bands. A hobbit alone is a hobbit in distress.
Ambition is rare. The jungle provides all they need, and the climate never demands growth or conquest. For this reason, hobbit adventurers are almost unheard of. Leaving the community offers nothing they desire.
When a neighbor’s chicken stops laying eggs, the entire neighborhood gathers—not out of obligation, but concern—to determine the cause and decide together whether a new chicken should be shared.
Gossip Without Malice
Hobbits gossip constantly.
They do not whisper, nor do they exaggerate. Gossip is simply the sharing of information, delivered with flawless accuracy and no judgment. If Gladys had to run outside unclothed to retrieve clean garments, the entire community will know by nightfall—and every detail will be correct.
There is no such thing as hearsay among hobbits.
The Long Debate: Hobbit Governance
Hobbit politics are slow, exhaustive, and strangely joyful.
Every issue begins at the household. If agreement is reached, the matter ends there. If not, representatives from each side bring the debate to the neighborhood. From there, it may rise to the community, the township, the Greenhold, and finally the Shirefold—the collective of all hobbit settlements in the Ubros Jungle.
At any level where a three-quarters majority is reached, the debate ends, and the decision is enforced downward. The more disagreement, the higher the matter climbs.
It is entirely possible for something to be illegal in one household and perfectly acceptable in another. In all remembered history, no hobbit has appealed a ruling.
Shirefold debates can draw nearly a thousand hobbits. These gatherings are difficult to keep focused and are often accompanied by feasting, drinking, and celebration. Many issues are so mundane they are raised merely as an excuse to attend the gathering.
Unlike the trivial concerns that can often garner differing opinions just for an excuse for a bigger party, serious matters are resolved as low in the hierarchy as possible. Disputes are handled at the level of those affected and are never escalated unnecessarily.
All debates are closed to the public. Only elected representatives may attend.
Holidays Without End
Hobbits celebrate often. Excessively.
Any occasion—or no occasion at all—may prompt the declaration: “Let’s have a holiday.” New Year’s is the most sacred of these, but it is far from the only one.
Despite this, hobbits are not lazy. They work hard, but their work is easy by comparison to other lands. Food is plentiful, danger is minimal, and so they balance labor with celebration, politics, and communal joy.
The Shape of Hobbit Society
Hobbit life is typically structured as follows:
- Households: 3–15 hobbits
- Neighborhoods: 4–5 households
- Communities: 5–8 neighborhoods
- Townships: 3–4 communities
- Greenholds: 4 townships
- The Shirefold: All hobbit settlements of the Ubros Jungle
There are ten Greenholds in total.
Law, Crime, and the Honor System
Banishment is unheard of. Hobbit culture does not cultivate things like murder, tyranny, or cruelty. Even the most unruly children are guided gently back toward tradition by family, neighbors & community.
Breaking a law or disrupting a routine is taken seriously. Minor disruptions are handled by neighbors. More serious offenses result in temporary confinement—though hobbit jails resemble comfortable inns more than cells. These jails operate almost entirely on the honor system. Prisoners may ask to leave briefly and are expected to return.
Township sheriffs exist but are part-time, unpaid civic roles. The election of a sheriff is a greater celebration than the position itself, often involving elaborate pranks. Punishments usually involve apologies and repairing what was damaged.
Trade, Wealth, and Possessions
There are no cities among the hobbits. Lost Grove serves as a central point of reference, not governance.
Each hobbit tends a quarter to half an acre of jungle, carefully cultivated to provide everything they need. Trade is unnecessary.
They keep heirlooms—books, furniture, tools—passed down for centuries. They will preserve valuables belonging to others even if they hold no personal worth. Trinkets without meaning or function are ignored.
Scarcity does not exist in their worldview.
Outsiders Among the Hobbits
Other races are tolerated cautiously.
Outsiders must adapt fully to the hobbit way of life—without coercion, without exception. Full acceptance is never granted. At best, an outsider may live and learn among them but cannot represent a household beyond the neighborhood level.
Only those content with simplicity ever thrive.
War and the Unthinkable
Hobbits do not understand war.
They hold no territory worth conquering, desire nothing beyond sustenance, and have lived generations removed from violence. They have no armies, no tactics, no concept of conquest.
Should a hostile force ever come for them, the jungle itself—and the quiet unity of the hobbits—would be their only defense.
Typically ranges from 2'10" to 3'4"
Averages about 40 pounds
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