Hundred House

According to tradition, Hundred House is the first Halfling settlement on Oa, so named for the hundred(ish) houses (i.e., clans) that agreed to common government in the distant past. The history of Hundred House is not one of bloodshed and armed conflict -- though it has had its share -- but rather one of fraught diplomacy, the rise and fall of bureaucratic and governmental institutions, and intricate social structures substituting for bonds of family or friendship among an intuitively rules-oriented culture.  

Political Organization

Division of Responsibility

  Hundred House governmental structures are so democratically oriented, so beset by checks and balances, and so preternaturally obsessed with the division of powers that only senior bureaucrats within the most connected families could have any hope of identifying who the most powerful individual or committee in Hundred House might be -- and even then, they might be missing out on who's got something on them.   Foreign affairs are not left in the hands of a single committee or individual and are divided not only by the foreign entity in question but by the subject-matter of the issue at hand. The process is entirely opaque to outsiders, and even to many of their own citizens, but somehow it manages to work. Halfling officials take their offices with the utmost gravity and as a rule grasp their own responsibilities and jurisdiction to the punctuation mark; and as a result, somehow the absurdly ossified, tumor-ridden bureaucracy produces results -- usually right in time.   With family and political connections, bargaining leverage and individual diligence and ingenuity being by far the most important considerations for political office among Hobbits, there is a remarkable lack of discrimination in the awarding of, and respect for, those offices. The gender, religion, or even race or age of an incumbent is often a far distant concern, leagues behind what votes they can deliver on a separate committee, or how talented an accountant they might be. Usmar oran-Ti, a half-Orc, half-Human, was briefly the Parliamentary Clerk; and Abernathy Potblack, a 33-year old child from one of Hundred House's leading families, served as Prime Minister for 21 reasonably successful years.  

Capital Region

  The idea of a "capital" presupposes a concentration of power that does not exist in Hundred House. Exeter Long is often incorrectly considered the nation's capital, as it is the most populous city both above and below ground and many of its main governmental institutions -- the Ironbands or central bank, the Domestic Statute Parliament in Committee (or DSPC, the closest thing Hundred House has to a federal government) and the Harvest Cathedral -- are located there.   It is therefore absolutely baffling to outsiders, having seen the wonderous above-ground alabaster masonry of those institutions at Exeter Long to be told that virtually all foreign affairs are conducted through the unremarkable, epicurean beach town of Ness Acre. "But the Prime Minister and Parliament are in Exeter Long," one might object, to the utter bafflement of a Halfling sherpa that could not conceive of what that could possibly have to do with anything.   The critical organs of agriculture and agri-food, far and away the most important industry in Hundred House, are entirely sequestered from the rest of the government and are handled by technocratic ministries in Wood Brelowe (production, support and domestic distribution) and the Overcroft (export).  

Royal Family

  There is no royalty in Hundred House, though noble titles can be awarded and, further, can be hereditary. The Lady or Lord of the Warrens, for example, is a title granted on a 25-year term and the residue of a term can be deeded in a testamentary instrument. Continuity is important, after all, and if a trusted elected official designated someone to work out the rest of their mandate, well, isn't that just another exercise of the judgment for which you elected them?  

Cultural Considerations

State Religion

While the worship of Yondalla, patron deity of Hobbits and the harvest, is commonplace across Hundred House, most citizens would not consider themselves devout --- and their deity would not require them to be. Yondalla is a practical goddess and the fount of generosity. She asks nothing from her people, and is content to provide for them. She is said to bless the generous with good fortune and to condemn the fraudulent and selfish to poverty; but for the vast majority of Halflings who consider themselves to be somewhere in the middle, little is asked and little is given. While there are shrines to Yondalla dotted throughout the landscape, some of which are large enough to conduct ceremonies, there is no cultural expectation of attendance on any day except The Feast (or "The Feast of Yondalla"), which is really more of a social occasion, and that's the way both the devout and the deity herself like it. Yondalla appreciates the party, but she would hate for anyone to make a fuss.  

Customs

The customs common to Hundred House are far too numerous to list here, as the civilization is deeply tradition-bound and the residents of these communities value protocol and etiquette deeply. One of the primary distinctions recognized bilaterally by Hundred House and Gwynab between the two cultures is that Hundred House is extremely up its own ass about adhering to social codes and norms, and take pride in that fact; whereas in Gwynab the formalities are generally eschewed in favour of principle. Quite generally speaking, the principal aim of most Hundred House customs is to avoid discomfort, embarrassment or awkwardness for others, and particularly guests. Unfortunately, in many cases an outsider may not realize that using the shrimp fork for the escargot could force the hostess to serve mismatched cutlery for the ninth course.  

Art, Technology and Economy

Deeply underrated due to their stature and cheery nature, the Halflings of Hundred House could stake a perfectly reasonable claim to being the most advanced and successful society in the central continent of Oa. Their artistic community is well-supported, esteemed and thriving. They have elevated cuisine to an art form in a way no other civilization has. Their music is of comparable sophistication to that of Tenthun and the Shorefolk. Even their architecture is pretty good. They do not engage in technological advancement as a social policy in the way the Gnomes do, but they continue to refine old technology until it is maximally efficient without impacting employment.   Their economy is almost too complex to assess, and the oppressive tax structure in Hundred House (which was no small part of the impetus for Gwynab to break away) is a significant anchor around its neck as it seeks to compete with that of the Corran Empire.   The extent of Hundred House's non-conscript, mercenary army is also an unproductive drag on resources; though this expense is likely dwarfed by the amounts spent by rival civilizations on the wars Hundred House opts not to fight. It is not for a lack of fighting skill or spirit among their people, mind you -- it is simply inefficient and unnecessary for them to engage in wars of conquest when so much of their own land could still be productively developed. And those human civilizations foolish enough to take offensive action against Hundred House in the last few centuries have found that, far from being apple-cheeked bumpkins, these Hobbits are extremely proficient guerrilla fighters and their towns and cities, primarily subterranean, are impossible to scout, difficult to access, miserable to conquer and impossible to occupy.   Hundred House is neutral in nearly every surface conflict and that tends to suit all parties involved just fine.  

Distinction from Gwynab

  Where does one subterranean kingdom end and the other begin? Human maps use the High Spine as the boundary on nearly all maps, but in truth this is much more of a surface geological feature than any principled boundary between the two nations (and Correhome, for that matter), given that 70% of their population is estimated to live underground around the network of artesian springs that first attracted halfling settlers to the area. Two-dimensional mapping is indeed impossible, as entire counties of Gwynab are known to be situated below overlapping suburbs of Hundred House.   Cartographers have continued to apply that superficial and two-dimensional fiction, however, as deadly serious sanctions and threats emanate from both nations with far less vigor when that standard is used as opposed to any ill-advised attempt of the Cartographer's Guild to discern an accurate spatial boundary based on the unending reams of contradictory and self-referential legal documents generated by the seven (!) ad hoc national boundaries commissions currently asserting jurisdiction over the matter.   Although both Halfling nations are adamant in their opposition to, and rivalry with, one another, they share so many political cross-appointments, family interrelations and "international" trade panels --- often represented by the same individuals literally changing symbolic hats in the course of a debate --- as to render their governance structure completely impenetrable to outsiders. It would not be unheard of for the Reeve of Hundred House to declare trade sanctions against himself as the Sheriff of Gwynab for acting beyond his territorial jurisdiction, to formally object to the procedure to which he subjected himself, and to register a formal complaint against himself in both capacities as an adversely affected merchant with ambitions upon his own office, all for the purpose of satisfying a range of constituencies on any number of sides of the conflict.   Despite the crippling complexity of this social organization, outside observers are often stunned to find that it does work. Critical votes from circumstantially critical committees are known to send shockwaves through the Shires and beyond. For example, two years before the commencement of this campaign, news spread that the eldest brother of the father's side of the Potblack-Potblack family, sitting as Vice-Reeve of the Hundred House-Gwynab Joint Committee on the Stores North and Northeast voted against the recommendations of the Subcommittee on Human Trade (Tenthun) headed up by his second cousin, once removed, of the Dryleaf-Potblacks, giving an opportunity to call the question to the South Run Fiddlebottoms of the same committee, two of whom had moved sixteen years prior as part of the Standing Committee on Racial Offence to cut off wine supplies to Tenthun over a perceived slight and traversed the matter to their new committee. To this day, no Halfling wine is shipped to Tenthun (though a vote is scheduled three years hence to review the process by which a future ad hoc committee may be struck to consider the utility of striking a committee to consider a decision to the contrary, possibly to report back to a joint session of the Subcommittee and Standing Committees aforesaid). It is to no one’s surprise that archival fires are a not inconsiderable cause of death in the Halfling nations.