ElfQuest FAQ

Wendy replies: My drawing style of elves and fantasy creatures was well and professionally established years before Wizards came out. I worked briefly for Ralph Bakshi on his version of Lord of the Rings, just as I was also starting to draw the first pages of ElfQuest. And I did stack the deck in my audition for him by learning how to draw his characters from Wizards and LOTR. Mike Ploog, who did the remarkable “history” paintings in Wizards, portrayed elves very much the way I did, at the time. But there is no artistic connection to ElfQuest. It’s a case of parallel development. After I left his studio, I made it a point to back away from any Bakshi influence and adhere to my lifelong love of manga for the design of ElfQuest. I do not respect Mr. Bakshi personally because of his mistreatment of other creators he’s worked with.

The short answer is, “shift happens.” This can mean different things. In the case of the Donning/Starblaze color collections, the materials provided by the publisher for coloring were substandard. Deadlines were tight. Under those conditions, some coloring decisions were made that, years later, needed and were able to be corrected. In other cases, on other projects, a colorist may have made a mistake and it didn’t get caught. Sometimes the settings on a printing press were off, and the first we heard about it was when readers wanted to know why the Sun Folk were suddenly lighter, or darker, or redder than they were the previous issue.

There is a saying that goes, “Don’t let ‘perfect’ be the enemy of ‘good.’” Perfection is an illusion. In over four decades of spinning ElfQuest, we’ve learned how to be satisfied with “good.”

Many of the ElfQuest stories done in the 1990s by other artists and writers are canon. ElfQuest is more than 40 years old. We feel we’ve done a good, not perfect, job of maintaining continuity. We’re working with Dark Horse Comics to produce the best possible collection of canonical ElfQuest stories, in a sensible order – The Complete ElfQuest series of volumes. (Will there ever be a completely, 100% bulletproof ElfQuest canon? Probably not – after all, even the Bible/Torah/Koran contain inconsistencies.)

Yes.

From Wikipedia: “Retroactive continuity, or retcon for short, is the alteration of previously established facts in the continuity of a fictional work. … There are various motivations for retconning. … The long history of popular titles and the number of writers who contribute stories can often create situations that demand clarification or revision. … Retcons allow for authors to reintroduce popular characters and resolve errors in chronology.”

“Retcon” is not a dirty word. In the case of ElfQuest, the core concept was developed in 1977-78 by Wendy and Richard Pini who, at the time, were in their 20s. The original story is, in many ways, a reflection of who they were then. But as the saying goes, life happens. Lately, the Final Quest and Stargazer’s Hunt chapters reflect the personal growth that the writers and artist have experienced over the years. In some instances, those changes inform – retroactively – aspects of the original tale, to make the whole more cohesive and integrated.

Again, yes. Call it “future retconning” – futconning, if you like. That’s how a growing, living, organic creative process works. Imagine Star Trek if Gene Roddenberry had insisted that Mr. Spock stay forever the winsome character he was in the very first pilot episode. Imagine all that would never have developed and blossomed into both the character and the mythos that we know and love today.

That’s why Wendy and Richard are not confining their minds and hearts in the tales that were written over twenty years ago. While the broad strokes that define Final Quest and Stargazer’s Hunt were laid down that far back, fine details – especially when given to other writers and artists to speculate upon – simply could not be known. Example: Some FutureQuest tales tell of old and continuing tensions that still exist between elves and trolls in the Palace of the High Ones. As of the events of Final Quest #18, those tensions no longer exist. As Wendy and Richard have evolved as people, so the ways in which ElfQuest spins out have evolved as well. Or, as Wendy puts it, “All ElfQuest FutureQuest stories are playful but distorted spinnings of tales based on what our writers and artists knew of the Final Quest at the time – way back in the 1990s. They contain both some canon and some wildly improbable deviations from canon. Have fun with them but don’t take them too literally. Imagine you’re sitting in the chamber of the Scroll of Colors, reading many different threads that show how things might have gone. The true thread – what ElfQuest is really all about – is up to you to decide.”

First things first. The “original WaveDancers” – sea elves – were created by Wendy in the 1980s as an alternate tribe for the Chaosium role playing game. (The name “WaveDancers” was at first given to the sea elves’ dolphins, but it was too good not to put to greater use. It has since been trademarked by Warp Graphics.) What you’re asking about are the six comic book issues written and drawn by Black Mermaid Productions in the 1990s. BMP approached Warp with their idea of sea-dwelling elves and, as Warp at that time was expanding the world of ElfQuest, the idea was appealing. Warp and BMP entered into an agreement, and work began. However, as the series progressed, it became clear that BMP’s desire was more to create their own universe of characters, and less to adhere to the structure and spirit of ElfQuest. Because BMP’s vision was too radically different from what Wendy and Richard were willing to allow for their creation, the relationship came to an end. As part of the legal terms of the separation, neither Warp nor BMP may republish any of the material from the six-issue series.

The Sun Folks’ pigmentation is an adaptation to living on the World of Two Moons. Those who dwelled in the Palace and now the Starhome have chosen to keep their skin coloring out of love for the world they left. Sometimes, when Sonny and Wendy depict scenes in the Palace or Starhome, they imagine it filled with a constant, hazy, pearly glow. So all the colors are filtered through that. That is why the Sun Folk look a little lighter. Ember, Venka, Mender, Kimo, etc. all retain the varying shades of their acquired (whether by heredity or exposure) tans, but they were never as dark as the “native” Sun Folk to begin with. However, some – like Leetah – are as beautifully dark as they ever were.

When we first met Cutter, his wolf-friend Nightrunner warned him of danger via a crude sending. At that point in the story, only one or two of the Wolfrider wolves retained a trace of elf-blood from the time of Timmain and Timmorn, many thousands of years earlier, to be able to send. Now, in the time of Final Quest and Stargazer’s Hunt that “blood” (and ability) has been completely diluted – bred out, actually – to the point where the Wolfriders’ lupine friends are effectively 100 percent wolf. So no, they can no longer send.

The average life span of a wolf in the wilds of Earth is 4-5 years. Life is very tough for them. Wolfrider wolves can live twenty years or more, not because they have elf blood (see above) but because they are bonded with their elf friends. They look out for each other, take care of each other, hunt for each other, protect each other in a way that doesn’t happen for an earthly wolf pack. Wolfriders accept their wolf-friends’ mortality; it is the elves’ friendship and care that prolongs the wolves’ lives.

No, ElfQuest elves do not kiss. They are very affectionate, and they cuddle and nuzzle, and nibble on ears and noses, and certainly mouths must come into contact with mouths from time to time. To which we say “True.” But they don’t kiss. Because kissing, as a “thing,” at least in certain Earthly cultures, has come to contain particular notions about relationship, emotion, affection, and so on. Kissing has a very definite social, even mythical “cultural spell” about it. Why is there such a big deal in story and art about love’s first kiss? Why is it a big deal when someone works up the nerve to steal a kiss? Why can a fairy tale kiss bring someone back from seeming death? We did not want to invest ElfQuest with those human, culture-specific significances. So the elves may take sensual pleasure from lips meeting lips – but it is not kissing.

For much the same reasons, ElfQuest elves do not “marry” and become “husbands and wives,” they do not “have sex” (or any other more colorful terms), nor do they experience “love at first sight” – as those are all human-culture based notions. Our elves do however become lifemates and lovemates, they do join, and some of them even Recognize each other.

Lovemates (and there can be two or more elves involved) join for pleasure. In today’s terms, they’d be called friends with benefits, no strings attached. Lifemates (can also be two or more) make the choice to form a family group (for want of a better term) that is long lasting, though not necessarily carved in stone. Soulmates are those elves who, for one of two reasons, have gone to the deepest level of sharing, and exchanged soul names. This is a very committed bond. Soulmates are often lifemates, though lifemates don’t have to be soulmates. Soul names can be exchanged by choice (Redlance and Nightfall), or by Recognition (Cutter and Leetah). Because Recognition exists only to ensure reproduction, a Recognized male and a female elf may know each other’s soul name, but once a child has been conceived, there is no rule stating the two must remain together, or even stay friends (Dewshine and Tyldak).

In simplest terms, Recognition is a primal, nearly irresistible mating urge between two elves. On a deep and subconscious level, even if they don’t or can’t consciously “send”, all elves are telepathic. So every elf, unconsciously, knows every other elf’s innermost (genetic) makeup. When a female and a male get within range of each other (“eyes meet eyes”) and the mix of qualities is right for a cub that will benefit the tribe (or the entire elf race), an instinctual command to mate bursts powerfully into each elf’s awareness (“soul meets soul”). Instantly, each elf knows the entire secret inner self of the other. The urge is so strong that if it is denied, the afflicted pair will feel dire physical effects. Recognition is not love at first sight; love has nothing to do with it. In time, the Recognized couple may come to love each other (as Leetah and Cutter did), but there’s no guarantee.

So where did the concept of Recognition come from? All Elfquest elves are descendants of alien shape-shifters (the High Ones) who had various telekinetic, energy manipulation powers. These powers are often called “magic” by the elves now (but that’s just a name). All elves are born with some latent version of these powers. But on the World of Two Moons, whose lower spiritual vibration limits what elves can fully do, these powers don’t show up in some.

Recognition began as an evolutionary adaptation to stimulate the emergence of these “old powers” in the offspring it produces. The very nature of Recognition began to change (thanks to Cutter) as the scattered elf tribes discovered and interacted with each other. Originally a biological imperative followed most seriously by the endangered, mortal Wolfriders, the advent of more frequent interbreeding of different elf tribes has softened the intensity of the imperative. Thus, even outside of Recognition, more children are born on the WoTM with traits of the original High Ones.

Only in the sense that the pair can voluntarily or involuntarily exchange soul names, and forge for themselves a deep bond, as Cutter and Skywise have done. It is sometimes said they have “taken Recognition for themselves.” But it is not Recognition in the truest definition of the word, which is purely biological and procreative.

Only Wolfriders have soul names. Soul names are partly a product of the Wolfriders’ unique nature and partly a product of their culture.

The answer to the first question is “neither.” The Preservers are the many-times removed, shapeshifted descendants of insect-like creatures that the original High Ones carried along on their long-ago journey from the dying Homeworld. They are sexless and immortal, which provides the answer to the second question: They don’t reproduce. All the Preservers that exist now, are all there will ever be. They are tough, nearly indestructable little bugs, though – look at all Petalwing’s been through just in the story of the quest so far. So don’t worry about them going extinct. They’ll be around for a long, long time.

If you’re looking for “exactly” you may have a long search!

Wendy writes: The Scroll of Colors is a very interesting mystical/magical device. It shows what has happened, what is happening and what will happen – but in limitless different versions, all possible. One thread of color shows things happening one way. Another thread of color plays the very same thing out in a different way. The different scenarios keep changing through the butterfly effect. And so on, ad infinitum. There’s not enough time in the Universe to know the Scroll completely. The Scroll of Colors is not a computer. It does not deliver information on command. It’s not something one can “use” for any active purpose. When it is activated (when the spindles are levitated so they can turn) the colors “play” as they will. They cannot be controlled or manipulated. They are only to be read, studied and contemplated. We humans read meaning into all sorts of symbols in the form of writing. Elves can read colors. The subtlest difference in hues represents entirely different threads of elfin history. The Sun Folk, who are now known as the Palace Dwellers, spend most of their time learning how to read the Scroll and gaining tidbits of knowledge from it. Savah can read it like a pro and Sunstream’s not far behind. But no one, not even Timmain, can “google” the Scroll of Colors.

Richard adds: For the tech-minded, the closest notion we currently have to the Scroll of Colors is the hypothesis of the quantum multiverse. This hints that there’s an infinite number of universes, some with properties very close to ours, some that are incomprehensibly alien and inhospitable. Or to put it another way, an infinite number of “what-if realities.” What keeps everything from fusing into a gray quantum soup is that each universe is completely and forever inaccessible to any other. You can’t get there from here. For all practical purposes, all those other universes don’t exist. The Scroll of Colors may show a multitude of what-if pasts, presents, and futures, but the only one that matters is the one that’s here and now. (AKA the one being told by us.)