If it were your truest intent to destroy your own civilization, you have many choices. There’s indiscriminate Science, always ready to build the next phlogiston-powered planetbuster. There’s Magick, and the Necromancy which brings about the Zombie Invasion.
Or you could simply Elf it up.
Elves live forever, and are very beautiful. Well: they live forever unless killed, and each Elf is very beautiful, but not as beautiful as the Elf who’s buying poison from you now, as she’ll be quite happy to tell you.
Elves live forever unless killed. This would easily lead to Elvish overpopulation, especially as Elves are rather magical, and live in rather magical cities, and have reasonably high technology, and also, armies.
(They also sometimes annoy Dragons and Dark Lords, but there aren’t enough of those to really keep a decent restraint on the population.)
No, the real environmentalists preventing Elven crowding are definitely the Elves themselves. Or as Malthus said, “If Elf meat were JUST a bit tastier, we could forget about them in a generation or two.” But it’s tough and stringy even if you have a taste for it, which most elves do.
At least, we assume they have armies. They have those great, tall, glowing towers, and they look very difficult to scale.
Also, the number of Elves has been slowly but steadily declining for a century, and the only reason it’s that infrequently is that elves hold a gigantic mating ritual once a century, about which we have already said too much.
The truth is, Elves hate Elves (the species). But they do love Elf (the delicious butcher item).
They always wish that someday, they could meet someone as tender and juicy as Dad was.
One of the great and famous epic love poems of Elven culture is about an Elf man and an Elf woman who simply don’t like how each other taste.
For a very long time, they lived very happily, by Elf standards.
The second half of the book is basically all about her slowly realize she’s curious what he would taste like, then quietly consulting family, friends, and personal chefs, then cooking and eating him, only to realize she could have had a V-8 instead.
It’s seldom put on, as Elves leave the theatre crying explosively and wishing they, too, had someone delicious to be a part of them forever.
There are many stories about Humans going with Elves when they made the long migration across the Great Sea to their original home.
The stories are true.
And they were loyal. And they were delicious.
So, all that being said:
I’m starting an Elf dating service. Are you interested?
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Find me, paid or free as you choose, at patreon.com/thatjeffmach
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