Welcome to my page for gnome lore! My gnome lore is heavily inspired by the history of gnomes and pygmies as told by Paracelsus, as well as a nice mix-in of Dungeons and Dragons, David the Gnome, and historical gnome mythology. This is a passion project of mine, and gnomes are very near and dear to my heart. I will include drawn examples of each type of gnome as I develop them, and this page is likely to change extensively over time as my ideas develop. I hope you can enjoy my gnome lore and ideas!
An Introduction to Gnomes
Of the Gardens
Garden gnomes cover a wide variety of more urban types; those with permanent residences. They are highly social, including with non-gnomefolk, but are also very secretive. Through the use of trickster magic, a gaggle of gnomes called Illusionists will cast a protective barrier around their villages which make them completely hidden from non-gnomefolk, as well as any else who would be unwelcome. These act almost as a pocket dimension, wherein people who are not privy to the existence of the village can't have any impact upon it, even if they walk right through it. Gnomes within the bubble, aside from those within the Trickster's Tower found in the centre of Garden villages, will not be made aware of this occurring.
Due to their social nature, garden gnomes are bar none the most frequently seen. They have been known to play tricks upon humankind, mostly at night. If a gnome is seen by a human during the day, it will turn to stone until nightfall, where it returns to normal and can escape. Garden gnomes are also known to form very close relationships with insects as well as fairies, the descendants of the ancient sylph elemental.
Gnomes demonstrate a mastery over liminal space and perceptions of space, and an example of this comes in the form of their housing. It is a common assumption that gnomes like to live in mushrooms, and for some this may be the case; those "some" being the few select gnomes who haunted a human household, heard them talking about it, and found it very amusing. The truth is that gnomes can make a home out of anything, and will sometimes build their own homes out of wattle and daub. These can be packed cosily into small villages with ease, as gnome houses are quite invariably much larger on the inside than they appear outside. Most consistently mushroom-ed are the homes of forest witches, particularly as woodland mushrooms grow the largest, so if you're looking for those the forest gnomes are your best bet. However inefficient, garden gnomes place a great value on self-expression and sticking out together, which makes a lot of garden villages ostentatious displays of every facet of the residents' interests. A hodgepodge, if you will.
Being the smallest of the gnomes, the world is even larger to a garden gnome than it is to any other, and quite the more perilous. Under the cloak of night time, which is when a gnome likes to "leave the nest," is when the trolls are about. And the boggarts. And the owls. And so they must be very careful to not guide these dangerous beasts back to their villages after a romp in the human towns. And on top of it all, garden gnomes are by far the most superstitious. Trickster gnomes are prone to believing in something so frightening so thoroughly that it can become real, and this is why beginning illusionists take three-year long courses in "Fantastical Works of the Mind and How to Thwart the Brain's Boggart." A trickster would like you to think they are very brave for being able to manage this so-called power.
Trickster Gnomes of Garden and House
Tricksters are a sort of rapscallion in the gnome world. Although not outright nefarious, they get their kicks from causing minor inconveniences and playing pranks on their fellow gnomefolk -- although this is one of the greatest crimes a gnome can commit. Particularly, a lot of trickster gnomes -- especially house gnomes -- like to mess with humans while they're asleep. This can involve "misplacing" their items, turning appliances on and off, rearranging room decor, stuffing nostrils with cotton (which is why you may wake up congested on some days), or if they're feeling particularly rambunctious, startling members of the household with loud noises. Any dastardly little deeds their wretched little minds can think up, they've got the willpower to see to its conclusion. Perhaps it's something to note that a lot of house tricksters were once, in fact, shire tricksters, who were exiled for taking it a little too far with the funnies.
One of the main staples of trickster gnomes are their jingling bells, something they share in common with the odd leprechaun. These are usually attached to the tip of the hat, or fastened to a band around its brim. Otherwise, they generally tend to dress like shire gnomes, although they are more likely to wear puffy pants and pointed shoes.
It's frankly quite rare to find a house gnome who isn't also a trickster. If one is finding signs of a benevolent gnome in their house, it is likely to be, in fact, a brownie.
Brownies, or Hobs
Now, if one were to not so much be finding signs of a gnome, but moreso signs of a rat, it might instead be a brownie. Brownies are quite exclusively house-dwellers, although they are known to sometimes spend the winter in gnomish shires. They are technically cousins of the gnomes, branched off from them thousands of years ago when they decided to sail away from the earliest gnomes' ancestral homeland of Scandinavia to the hilly lands of Scotland. Unlike their fellow trickster house-dwellers, brownies are a very helpful sort. While humans are asleep brownies tend to household chores like sweeping, sorting, dusting, and tending to farmlands (if any). All a brownie would ask in return is a bright hearth and some fresh warm milk.
Beside us you can see an illustration of a brownie called Mott. He is holding a personal broom made of broom (the plant) and a stick he found in the garden, bound by flax rope. At his side is a flask which he carries gifted milk or cream in while he works around the house. Brownies are known for being able to carry just about anything in their hats, and Mott's hat is chock full of tools and fascinations like pretty buttons, strong cheeses, and hairpins (as they can always come in handy when your body is covered in the stuff).
During the winter, when farms are dormant, some brownies prefer to spend their time within gnomish shires, where they serve quite the spectacle due to their out-there appearances. Others may hibernate throughout the winter months and remain very dedicated to their chosen household. In fact, when a brownie or batch of brownies has claimed a household, they will treat it as their home like you would your hometown.
The number one thing a brownie shares in common with a gnome is their pointed hats. Other than that, brownies are really quite different. Adapted to the Scottish highlands, brownies have very long and stick-like legs compared to the average gnome, which they use to scale hills and rocks. These also come in very handy when climbing human staircases! Brownies are also known for being covered in a thick layer of fur-like hair, and due to this coverage are scarcely clothed aside from their hats, some protective footwear, and perhaps a shawl or cloak. They have small, beady eyes and rat-like tails. In a similar fashion to rats, brownies usually live inside the walls, and access this through small holes close to the floor. If you ever catch a glimpse of what seems like a rat, it's possible it may in fact be a brownie who has chosen to help with your household. They are generally quite timid and polite, but if mistreated or disrespected greatly by their human hosts they are liable to become monstrous creatures called
Another small thing about brownies is that they tend to be obtusely vague. Most words you'll hear from a brownie are very non-committal and around-the-bush, which can make them a nightmare to plan days out with. And on top of this, they tend to be quite focussed on the literal side of things. Not brilliant jokesters, compared to their tricky roommates.
To the left you will see an illustration of an Gon Illusionist, called Elgin Gnoamsly. Illusionists, a form of Trickster, often wear long robes accompanied by an even longer cloak with a hood, along with their staple hat. All hats are unique and reflective of the gnome wearing them, and can be decorated with fascinations like feathers, dried plants, beads, jewels, and fabric wraps. The Illusionist's cloak is reminiscent of stained glass, made of individual fragments of dyed silks sewn together with thread. A gnome's silks are made with materials personally given to them through their bug relations. Many Illusionists are best friends with a few spiders.
As an Illusionist, Gnoamsly has a long and brightly-coloured robe decorated with ox-eye daisies which change over-time; they grow, bloom, and wilt with the changing days. At night, they will appear shut. This type of artistic clothing is a staple of garden gnome fashion; but shifting clothes such as this are only available to Illusionist gnomes. That said, an Illusionist gnome could spend effort on manually changing the visuals of a non-trickster's garments, but it's a lot of effort. The average Garden Gnome will wear tunics with leggings, blouses with long skirts, and boots, much like your typical garden gnome you might buy from the shops (these are not real gnomes).
Gnoamsly's hat covering his eyes, and his very loose clothing, is a sort of subgroup of gon gnomes called "gonks." Gonk gnomes prefer to cover a lot of skin with clothing or hair, and only have extremities like their noses, feet, and hands visible. The practicality of this is somehow out of the question for them.
A lot of Garden Gnomes are, as likely figured from their names, avid gardeners. Gnoamsly is no exception, as within his side pouch he carries seeds and clippings for his personal corner of the garden. You may have noticed that he seems to have bug antennae -- this is the desired effect! These are actually fake props that Gnoamsly wears to appear more familiar to stranger bugs, whom many gnomes greatly value the friendships of. Another curiousity of Gnoamsly is more unique to his case -- his driftwood birch staff. This was a gift to him from a kindred beachdwelling gnome out of town, which is blessed with magically-imbued sea glass (a common container of magic for kindred gnomes) that allows him to fully communicate with bugs. He is able to talk to them verbally, and understand them when they speak. He protects this staff with his life from other tricksters who might like to take it for themselves. Garden Gnomes can be ruthless!
Shire gnomes are more of an umbrella type, which covers your "Average Joe" of garden gnomes. They're the shopkeepers, homemakers, gardeners -- the families that inhabit a garden gnome village, or shire! Shire gnomes believe strongly in collectivism, and form close, tight-knit communities. A gnome shire will have its own name and emblem, voted on as a group, that reflects their interests. For example, the two shire gnomes you see here are from different villages -- one the same as Gnoamsly, the other not.. Shire gnomes take a great pride in their hometowns, and like to follow a style code to represent that. This usually comes down to popular colours and patterns. A majority of shire gnomes like to dress in quite a dainty manner, such as the shire gnomes you see in this section. Villages can prioritise specific patterns like stripes, and tend to have very colourful dress codes!
To the right you'll see an illustration of a kindly shire pelly named Friga. She is the village's local singer, and a popular one at that. She's wearing a conical hat that is created in a similar way you might fold paper to become one -- it is wrapped around itself, then bound together with a silken band complete with a rose-shaped emblem. This way of forming a gnome hat can create a small opening at the top, through which a trail can be tucked. As you can see, Friga is wearing a gossamer veil, that is pulled through the hat to fall loosely by the sides of her head. Other gnomes may fasten this together to create a hood-like shape, but personally Friga enjoys leaving it to flow like beautiful silky hair.
To the left you'll see another shire gnome, a crad named Neddy. They are a retired gardener who guides their children in taking care of their corner of the shire garden. See, shire gnomes like to operate community gardens that surround their village almost like a moat, and only a few have tiny personal gardens in or around their homes. And when a garden gnome transforms, almost inevitably into a flower, these will be put in either private gardens or the community garden. Neddy is particularly fond of tulips, and has adopted one as their hat. While this uncommon, it certainly isn't unheard of among gardening gnomes -- if they have a favourite flower, and it's hat-able, it may very well become one! After all, garden gnomes see their hats as a form of self-expression and part of their gnomehood, and what better way to show your love for gardening?
Admittedly, this is a major source for many embarrassing phases in a gnome's life. Some gnomes may become completely convinced that a snail shell makes a perfect head cosy and found that the slime stuck it to their head so fast that the entire village had to help pry it off afterward, and even after that they kept trying to the point that their village banned snail shell hats -- although this certainly wouldn't be Neddy. Definitely not.
Of the Forests
Compared to Garden Gnomes, Forest Gnomes are a bit more niche, and a LOT more reserved. Forest Gnomes are unlikely to form societies, preferring instead to fly solo, or -- if they are a Kindred -- travel with their friendly animals. If you could ever even catch sight of a Forest Gnome, it would be common to find them following along with migratory herds of deer, riding the backs of foxes, or climbing through the trees with their squirrel companions. The average nomadic gnome, on the other hand, will travel by foot using the desire paths made by these other creatures.
To Forest Gnomes, the only good impact is a small and steady one. They are far from boat-rockers, and mostly try to keep things as they are, and protect what is already there. Many forest gnomes of Britain dwell in ancient woodlands, spending their nights within the trunks of trees accessed through knotholes, or underneath the roots in burrows (although this is more common among Kindred gnomes). Nomadic gnomes are not above a simple tent. A lot of Forest Gnomes are of very few words, and hold an air of mystique and slight intimidation to Garden Gnomes. Although unlikely, there are known Forest Gnome villages, which are mostly tradeposts for exchanging materials out in the wild. They tend not to be able to use liminal magics or illusions to hide their villages, unless they have some good friends, so these tend to be underground in burrow-like cave systems. They never go below 50ft into the ground.
While they might not be formally educated -- this really depends on the gnome -- a Forest Gnome can be trusted to have brilliant instincts, and a wonderfully practical mind. They aren't so much interested in written works, broadly speaking, and so a formal education just isn't to their interest. As they spend their entire lives out in the wilderness, wisdom of experience is the most necessary.
Forest gnome outfits tend to be a mix of raw natural materials, such as bark, shed feathers, or chitin, and linen. Flax is the number one material traded among Forest Gnomes in outposts, as (and quite understandably, all things considered) a lot of Forest Gnomes aren't particularly fond of leather trappings.
To our right is an illustration of a pelly Kindred, known to most as April. She is quite thickly built but with strong and well-bound legs, and for good reason -- she travels with deer! Yes, April is a Kindred gnome who has formed bonds with two species: Red deer and rabbits. A majority of Kindreds will bond with 2-3 species like April has, and will carry more characteristics and behaviours of these animals the stronger their bonds are. For example, on April you can see she has a beautiful pair of red deer antlers, as well as the powerful chewing teeth of a rabbit, AND -- although she might be hiding it from you -- she may also have a little fluffy tail.
Something to note about kindred gnomes is their beautiful leafy cloaks. These are made of masses of grasses, and other small herbaceous plants, which form a thickly-layered shroud for the individual. A kindred gnome will never go without their cloak, and this has led some to believe that their magic is actually stored within it. April, personally, likes to use her cloak as an easy blanket.
Something else you may have noticed about April is her lack of a hat. Forest Gnomes are the most likely type of gnome to be seen without one, and don't take them as seriously as -- for example -- Garden Gnomes, who see them as a crucial form of self-expression and part of their gnomehood. As if their height wasn't enough to make them stand out, hatless Forest Gnomes often get disapproving glances for not wearing hats into town, should they ever visit.
Gnomads (Nomadic Gnomes)
Here is an illustration of a crad nomad, known as Rando. They have a body type considered very tall and lanky by gnome standards, which is perfect for traversing the dense understorey of the ancient woodlands that Rando likes to roam. Quite in line with the mysterious nature of most known gnomads, Rando has pointedly ensured that very little of their face and body are visible, including the use of a large cape which confuses the shape of their body (as well as being very cosy and snug in the winter months).
Forest gnomes are more likely to use raw material as part of their clothing, and this is no exception for this gnomad, as they are donning protective shoulderpads made out of oak bark. Similarly, the soles of their shoes would be made of this same material. Gnomad fashion is very utilitarian in nature, and serves to protect from the elements as well as from the eye of any, not just predators. The most you tend to see in terms of decoration on an unsettled gnomad is perhaps a few flowers or shiny buttons earned on travels -- such as the wood sorrel and herb robert Rando has tucked in their hatband.
Being nomadic from birth, gnomads have many a story to tell, and many a song to sing -- however, they are very disinterested in worldly possessions, and generally only carry forms of trail mix, essential tools, and (in the case of Rando) a lute! For on rare occasions, a venturing gnome might hear a weary tune carried on in the breeze, and follow it to a solitary gnomad playing for none else but the nature around them. Typically these songs are very wistful and nostalgic, particularly in the wintertime; however, during the summer they might have a more chipper tone. Garden gnomes usually consider hearing these melodies some kind of karmic sign, particularly leprechauns, who associate them with good luck.
It mystifies all else who know them why the gnomads are so solitary, and why they actively prefer to keep it this way. Very few have become more then briefly acquainted with a gnomad before they were never seen again. By extension, it's also unknown why they feel the need to always be on the move. It may be a form of tending to our world -- checking all is right -- but we can never be certain. Perhaps they follow the wind or weather wherever it takes them. Gnobody gnows! What we can say, however, is that they are masters at foraging, and hold the world record across the board for setting up camp the fastest.
A particularly interesting quirk of the gnomad is their adaptability to different seasons; instead of being forced indoors or to sleep during the winter, they practically become it. Their skin turns greyish, their hair dulling and thickening to keep them warm. It's not fully understood how their clothes change as well, but it could be by some similar means to trickster magic -- or they could just carry winter coats with them, of course. Rando here is shifting into their autumnal phase.
Gnomes generally theorise that brownies and trolls are in some way related, and this is mostly due to their large stature (for gnome standards). The average fully-grown troll is double the size of the average gnome, and with double the hair, too. Like early gnomes, trolls are extremely territorial, and travel in family groups. Their thick bodies of fur make clothing unnecessary, alongside the fact that they're about as interested in owning anything as your average nomad is in having friends. To many, their culture is a mystery, mostly because any trollogist gnomes who have ventured into their territory typically don't come back.
It's been assumed, quite sensibly, that trolls like to eat gnomes, and so far this hasn't been disproven, and along with owls this notion is a very good way to keep the kids at home during the night. Many gnomelings have quaked in restless slumber, convinced that the full moon peering through their window at night is in fact the hungry eye of a troll -- and if you were a gnome out in the woods at night, it might be unwise to follow the moon back home.
There are some notions we have about trolls, such as that they may turn to stone during the day similar to gnomes, and this is true to an extent!-- Although, only of mountain trolls. Most trolls, in fact, dwell in the shady understorey of woodlands, and instead become very prickly and sometimes rather rude bushes. Accurate to our -- and gnome's -- understanding is that they are absolutely most active at night, which is when they like to hunt.
Current trolls are distant descendents of a much larger, much stronger sort of troll -- those that made up mountains and great hills, to which trolls still greatly magnate towards. Woodland trolls will stow away deep in the bases of hillsides, while mountain trolls are masters of the rocky terrain. One gnome reported once a sighting of bumbling mountain trolls, curled up in balls, bouncing down a craggy mountain edge into the understorey at the base of the mountain. We're not sure if this is for fun, or simply because it's easier than walking.
Above you can see some illustrations of trolls, displaying different types. The bottom one is a relatively tall woodland troll, sporting some likeness to a bovine. Like kindred gnomes, trolls are able to adopt the features of creatures around them to aid in their survival and general ease of life. This strong and hardy troll is a fierce defender of his family against any other woodfolk, and his moss-coated fur provides great grappling for trollets. Above him is a cousin from the snowy mountains of Scotland, who is slightly smaller. They appear to have adopted the characteristics of a hare, ram, and fox. Their teeth tend to be jagged and sharp, ideal as they are one of the very few pygmy-born to eat meat. And rocks. One gnome reported seeing a woodland troll using its spiny fur to skewer fruits and funghi, and spent the rest of his retirement trying to bait them out with small apples and berries. He befriended a lot of birds this way.
Boggarts, or Bogeymen
When a brownie or hob is disrespected, mistreated, or falls too far in on itself, it is liable to become a very different creature altogether. Much more akin to a troll, boggarts are dreadfully hairy and much more frightening -- they are also slightly taller and lankier than their troll cousins, with thicker tails. Their once small, beady eyes grow and widen in a similar fashion to trolls' eyes, and reflect the light of the moon in the night. Their large ears are covered by much more hair, and their rat-like tails too become large and bushy. Their fur easily picks up moss and sludge, which we can't say for sure if they mind...
Boggarts are broadly considered the strongest type of creep, but they are rarely seen -- boggarts prefer the dank and hazy depths of wetlands, mires, carrs, and swamps, and are protective of them. To this end they are a lot more nefarious than the usual tricks of gnomefolk, going to lengths of kidnappings of humans, and undoubtedly having a palate for gnomes. There have been rare accounts of boggarts the same size as people, or larger, dwelling in the murky waters and creeping out among the reeds. They are devilishly mischievous -- stealing household objects (particularly milk) and wherever their tail brushes a trail of rot is left behind. There have been many claims of entire foodstores going rotten overnight and, during those witching hours, ghastly door slams and wretched laughing being heard. In particular, it seems when they cannot take any more milk they will curse the rest.
Being great friends with insects, a swarm of bugs in wetlands can be a good way of telling that a boggart is resting nearby. Their glowing bright eyes in the dark attract moths, which flit about their heads. They are known to be very deep sleepers, and one would worry very little about waking one; they awaken once the skies are black. They are masters of rot and decay, and lovers of detritus. Everything they take goes to the swamp. It is not unheard of for some boggarts to join nearby families of trolls when they first run away from their homes, where they are quite readily accepted. Overtime they are liable to move away and become more solitary in these lonely swamps.
As they spend all their time in the clay soils of the wetlands, they are very accustomed to holding their breath for long periods of time. It's assumed to be around twelve hours, or however long it takes to sleep -- although its possible they form air pockets in their sleepspace. As well as this, due to the wet environment their fur coats are constantly matted and soaked through, giving them a distinct (albeit quiet) "squelching" sound when they walk. Their level of moisture also makes it very easy for them to mold and reshape small rocks, and gnomes have discovered a lot of interestingly-shaped rocks (perhaps statues) that are seemingly formed by boggarts.
It's not fully known if the transformation from brownie to boggart is reversible, although it is theorised kindness, respect, and many bowls of milk might bring them back. Unfortunately, there's a large lack of investment in boggartology due to the understandable risk factor, and when brownies are asked they mostly respond with "hum"s and "hah"s or talk about their mothers instead.
Goblins and Gobs
These are quite small and flighty folk, not dissimilar to a bat, and like to fill the nooks and crannies often forgotten about by other beings, human or not. For instance, one might find an old Forest Gnome underground village crawling with the young of a Gobmother. They have a large preference for the damp and dark, and can make a great and awful home out of abandoned dwarven mines as well as natural deadwood habitats, where they like to stuff their mouths with bugs.
They are generally considered by gnomes to be a sort of cousin to the troll, being that they have large bright eyes -- however, one huge difference is that these creatures can fly! Very quickly at that. Venturing gnomes may fear they are being accosted by a hungry owl, only to find a sprightly goblin or gob coming down to say hello.
Goblins are overall much more common than gobs and are also the larger of the two, being roughly double the size of a gnome. They are generally very friendly, if not mischievous, which falls perfectly in line with the interests of gnomes. Because of this, whenever a gnome and a goblin meet they are pretty likely to become friends! However, goblins and gobs are much harder to find, even for gnomes, and so these connections are rare and treasured by gnomes. Goblins, on the other hand, don't really care what they're befriending so long as it likes to cause a ruckus.
To come: Tricksters and Witches
Of the Earth
Earthen gnomes maintain more historical traits of the earthen elementals of yore than other types, particularly in their caving skills and movement through the earth. While not so simple as swimming through it, they are tunnelers at heart and spend a vast majority of their time underground. Of all gnome types, they are the ones you're by far the least likely to come across during the day, as it is simply too bright for them to see! In these ways, they are very akin to moles.
Many (particularly due to their carried traits with their pygmy ancestors) are very fascinated by history. Much knowledge gnomes have of their place in the world is carefully catalogued by earthen gnomes, stowed away in underground burrows. It's knowledge they're more than willing to share, especially with gnomes above ground -- which is more than can be said for most other things about them. This is because many earth gnomes adopt an "actions over words" type of attitude, and will want to present themselves, their lives, and their personalities, purely through living them. You're just going to have to be there to see how it works.
Earthen gnomes form sturdy, steadfast, and notably huge communities via cave networks deep below ground. They have a huge sense of camaraderie, and treat any other earthen elemental as kin; however, they can be extremely closed off and secretive to other elemental groups. This is more as a case of familial privacy than any type of prejudice, although they do tend to squabble with fire elementals more often than they get along with them. They prize reflection and collection, many having hoards of gemstones, interesting rocks, or other curiosities they find in their subterranean travels. Amazingly, earthen gnomes are typically very down to earth.
They are not at all interested in tricks or magic, and are more concerned with what's there and what has been there before. Their historians are in constant pursuit of this knowledge. Due to this, earthen gnomes are the most deeply rooted to our reality rather than worlds-between by a long stretch, and the only reason they are seldom seen or known of is their vast underground recluse -- as well as their innate sensitivity to our presence. They can feel every step!
They tend to be very stocky, with bigger hands and feet than other gnomefolk, and have incredibly thick skin. They are masters of the underground, and their bodies reflect this.
The most common (and most seen) type of earthen gnome are warren gnomes. They make the shallowest tunnel systems of all (although still quite deep!) and some tend to come above ground at night to forage or simply to explore. Many are very keen to know everything about the area they live in, and they don't tend to stray far from central major burrows deep underground. They love, and are proud of, their holme (hole home, not to be confused with a holm). Their deep interest in the geography of their holme amasses often in thoroughly charted maps and graphs of the soil structure and presence of aggregates, or unique locations and objects, within the earth. Another reason more enterprising warren gnomes may emerge at night is to further catalogue the use of their home land by other life. It's all immensely fascinating to them.
Physically, warren gnomes are very similar to moles -- their eyes are extremely sensitive to light, and they have a very keen sense of smell. Due to their lifestyle of constantly moving through the earth, they don't tend to have much interest in ornate or beautiful clothing -- it will always become dirty! There are certainly some exceptions in those who adorn themselves in gemstones, but a vast majority stick to more simplistic wear.
Here you can see a pelly warren gnome called Peat! She is the type of gnome to forage above-ground at night, and she particularly has a lot of interest in tubers and fungi networks. Huge hats such as hers are very common in warren gnomes -- protection from the light, a good storage space, and good for carrying a lantern. While warren gnomes are certainly designed for living underground, this only goes so far. Further, these lanterns can be a good way to locate each other above ground, as they're very attached to the buddy system. It's quite normal for warren gnomes to be very careful of their lanterns, and treat them as prized possessions. If anything, these are the part of their clothing most likely to be richly decorated to create a beautiful, personal light. Another thing regularly seen in warren gnomes is bare feet and fingers, despite their constant handling of soil. Although their skin is thick, this is only for protection. They like to expose themselves to physical touch as much as possible to ground themselves in the dark. As well as this, they can easily tell a lot about the earth from pure touch alone, and they feel a deep connection to it.
Warrens often share their holmes with other burrowing creatures, such as badgers, rabbits, and the moles previously mentioned. They treat these creatures as companions, although nowhere near to the extent of a kindred gnome (it's more like a friendly connection than a familial one). Their tunnels are often shared -- and so, it's very possible when you believe you've come across a badger or rabbit hole, you've actually come across the exit hole of an exploring warren gnome! On a similar note, if you ever believe you saw a bright flicker in the middle of the night, one might have just emerged nearby.
Dune gnomes are quite a niche form of earthen gnome, and likely to be among the rarest kinds, for they solely inhabit dry and sandy earths. Along with being so small in their niche, they are also typically the smallest gnomes, and the shallowest of the earth gnomes as well. Some even occupy a further niche of coastal zones!
They excel in movement through sandy soil -- surfing through it like waves, swimming through it like water. Some places you might find them include the most inland point of wider beaches, as well as heathlands. They share these places with some of the most rare and vulnerable species of wildlife in the UK, and they do so very welcomingly.
Seldom seen, the deep gnomes are more a creature of myth than a concrete truth to most gnomes, and they are mostly heard of from the deeper-faring dwarves. It is believed that they move along in the deepest crusts of the earth with the tectonic plates, in a style similar to gnomads perhaps, but this is mostly theory from shallower earthen gnomes. Along these lines as well, it is believed they are in very close contact with fire elementals -- but the nature of this contact is unknown. They are bar none the gnomes most connected to their earthen elemental roots.
You may be wondering how gnomes can be so certain of the presence of fire elementals far beneath, but not be sure about their own kind down there. The fact is that fire elementals generally really like to make themselves known -- be that through salamanders bursting out of the ground from erupting volcanoes, summoning themselves into wildfires, or any other form of explosive stochasticism. Earthen elementals, on the other hand, are known for liking to make themselves small. It seems like the deep gnomes don't have any reason to want to come up, and nothing is forcing them to either, so they won't. There's little clue as to what they're so excited about down there or how liminal they are, particularly considering that earthen gnomes tend to be the most grounded.
To come: Deep gnomes and dwarves