On the Moral Risks and Justifications of Copulation with a Chimera
As I pen this title, I cannot help but reflect upon the Half-Dragons, Half-Orcs, and the myriad Tiefling and Elven hybrids I have witnessed heretofore. In Faerûn today, intermarriage between races has become a banality. However, based on recent grapevine intelligence, a certain high-level Archdruid has engaged in sexual conduct with a heterologous chimera—an act that vastly exceeds the boundaries of my daily experience. This posits a question of a new dimension regarding how we face these wild monstrosities: What if we were to copulate with them?
First, I must introduce this class of monster to readers unacquainted with the Chimera. Its origins lie in horror legends; at some unknown point, they began appearing in the wild. According to mercenaries and Druids I have contacted, the Chimera is a wild beast manageable by a party of mid-to-high-level adventurers. Its intelligence fluctuates between that of poultry and a canine; it commands only a few rudimentary words of Draconic and is fundamentally incapable of effective communication. They are tempestuous by nature. The specific subspecies—the Gorgimera (Bull-Lion-Dragon)—is slightly more dangerous. The good news, however, is that this subspecies is generally solitary; one rarely encounters two simultaneously, even during mating season.
In summary, we can discern two primary issues from this incident. Firstly, even during mating season—a dangerous period when Chimeras frequently attack humans (as I trust you have learned from the City Watch’s warning notifications)—this monster does not possess the strength to coerce a high-level Archdruid. This eliminates the possibility that the Druid’s actions were forced; or, to speak professionally, the principle of Emergency Necessity is inapplicable to this scenario. Secondly, Chimeras are unlike certain legendary dragons or magical beings; although our laws do not grant these creatures the status of "Natural Humanoids," they can communicate effectively with humanoids, often proving far more intelligent than the best among us. The Chimera, I must emphasize, is congenitally devoid of such intellect. The brightest among them can barely roar a few syllables of Draconic. What can we deduce from these two points? Precisely: in this event, according to local laws, the Druid clearly bears the duty of self-regulation incumbent upon an intelligent being.
At this juncture, some readers may object—particularly those potential Bhaalists—saying: "If the Chimera was willing, no harm was done, was it?" or "Druids are always weird; isn't this part of their training?" To this, I answer: No, you are gravely mistaken, my friend. To address these inquiries, we must return to the dawn of legislation, to the fundamental philosophy behind the establishment of Common Law. Back to the origins of Waterdeep, when the Lords gathered in Aglarond... At that time, Faerûn had just settled from war; humans and elves had finally made peace, urgently requiring a common law to reach a consensus for trade and diplomacy... and perhaps other obscure aristocratic collusions. It was this initial Common Law that established the foundational principles for our later codes. They sat and negotiated, I am certain, for months, finally determining a principle: Render unto the Gods the things that are the Gods', and unto Jergal the things that are Jergal's; all other humanoid life shall be unified under the Code. "Humanoid life" here includes not only our familiar Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Gnomes, Tieflings, Halflings, and the later-added Gith, but even Goblins, Drow, and certain Constructs that meet the intellectual threshold. So next time, do not trust a Drow's "Lolthian Dogma"—a Fireball will give you the answer. I mean to say, the Code dictates that all humanoid life is subject to the Unified Law.
However, exactly which life forms fall under this jurisdiction and which do not? Why does Common Law fail to constrain magical beasts whose intelligence far exceeds that of a Goblin? The most critical criteria are Embodiment and Intellect.
Embodiment. Simply put, embodiment is a body capable of sensation. Naturally, for this reason, we cannot judge ghosts or spirits, even if they possess vastly superior intellect and the means to affect the Material Plane. If you encounter a Hag or Nightmare, I suggest seeking help from the local Mages' Guild... hmm, though that may cost a pretty penny. However, Constructs are viewed as embodied life. I believe some have heard of the Construct injury incident in Neverwinter last year. Although the creator—a Gnome—and the Construct itself repeatedly emphasized that Neverwinter’s unique climate affected its mechanical core, causing a logic error, the Neverwinter Court still sentenced the Construct to hard labor for negligent injury. In that case, the Construct was clearly accepted as a valid subject capable of answering for its actions. That case sparked widespread discussion among scholars and celebrities—as for the subsequent bribery case involving the City Watch, it is irrelevant to the standard of legislation, so we shall pass over it. Yes, my point is this: the subject accepting regulation must be an embodied life. Naturally, some might mention Legendary Dragons here... Legendary Dragons are a separate issue, pertaining to whether our cities have sufficient military force to compel them to accept our laws; we need not elaborate further.
Next is Intellect. Note that I point out the intellect we discuss is essentially a standard, not a polarized state of "have or have not" like embodiment. Any life form can be viewed as having intellect, even plants we usually despise intellectually—a tree may secrete toxins when damaged; some flowers turn their disks based on light conditions; and some carnivorous plants are quite ferocious. Someone has seen plants preying on small rodents... to this day, a Small Rodent I know remains very wary of brightly colored flora... why do I know this?... Anyway, how much intelligence is sufficient to stand trial? A practical example: if you share a language and can engage in effective dialogue 70% of the time—I mean effective dialogue, not translation via other means—then that life form should be regarded as a valid subject capable of regulating its own behavior. I know, I know what you want to say; admittedly, this remains a blurry boundary. In recent years, legal circles are still arguing over whether Gnolls and Minotaurs should be considered valid subjects. Fortunately, they live far enough from the surface; Drow should worry more about their law-abiding status than surface cities do.
In summary, returning to today’s theme: it is evident that a high-level Druid possesses both of these critical conditions simultaneously, sufficient to make him a Qualified Subject. His partner in coitus, the Chimera—I mean no offense—is distinctly congenitally deficient in intellectual terms. This implies that whether forced or potentially compliant due to the Chimera’s estrus cycle, the Druid bears the responsibility and obligation to refuse this act of indecency. This principle once led to the exile of Ahghairon in the case of Ahghairon vs. The Swan, thereby ridding the Sword Coast of an evil lord. Of course, excellent, I do not object to using the law this way occasionally, but it should not become the norm. Hmm, my point is that in the act of copulating with a Chimera, the Druid’s behavior can clearly be viewed as sexual exploitation of the Chimera, because the Chimera lacks sufficient intelligence to provide Sexual Consent. Otherwise, how should we view the flow of power relations in this act? Is this not a dominance behavior taking advantage of the Chimera’s bestial instincts? Or does it constitute some form of abuse? We all know the "Guard and Balance Nature" mantra Druids love to emphasize, yet I imagine this does not include abandoning one's existing intellect to enter a realm of pure bestiality and chaos. A Druid’s function should focus on guidance and protection. And when one of them—who I hear is a very gentle soul with no history of misconduct in social settings, so this is not a personal vendetta—when he copulates with a Chimera, it is clear that even in Wild Shape, the Druid’s intellect is fully present and exercising its cognitive functions without hindrance. Any denial of this judgment itself stems from an intellect above the standard line functioning normally and completely.
Writing this, I realize the whole matter seems open and shut. Based on the Common Law in effect, existing conclusions would be largely undisputed even in the Law Academy of Waterdeep. However, we have all encountered the Emerald Enclave... which means we all know Druids. I am not implying they aren't great; they are friendly and gentle, contributing much to the peace of Faerûn. It’s simply that Druids spend too much time with nature and develop quirks that we find easily misunderstandable—such as excessive intimacy with animals, or protectionist desires so strong they impede normal trade development and construction. Some prefer resting in open woods, creating a stereotype of the ascetic monk. At least, I am unsure if leaves in one's hair are an experience of nature or a symbol of destitution. And Wild Shape always gives them the image of a "Half-Half Man": they always wander between two worlds—one half is the normal, understandable, prosperous human world; the other is the savage, random natural world where the harvest is mostly fright. This is their faith. I have no intention of criticizing the faith of others; I merely wish to point out the existential state of Druids in the eyes of the common man—that is, they are indeed a bit alienated, despite having their own organizations and circles.
However... yes, humans can judge Druids, but they remain Half-Half Men. From the perspective of the other half—no, the Druid should be viewed as a whole—but there is a problem... This makes sense... but, wait a moment. Suppose we have been examining this matter from an Anthropocentric perspective all along. What if, and I mean what if, the Druid is actually exploring a path of Post-humanism? This would offer a completely new angle of interpretation! A brand new angle!
Here I must explain the three parts divided by Anthropocentrism. First is Pre-humanism. This is an ideal state of existence blended with world matter, spirits, and nature. In this state, humans are viewed as part of a great cycle. I am quite certain this is the state Druids aspire to—viewing humans as a sub-category under animals, merely participating in the cycle within nature, not taming our world, not taking the language, morality, and laws constructed by human civilization today as granted rules. Nature has its own higher-order rules, and we are but small miracles born within it. Undoubtedly, we can build more efficient tools, we can choose construction and destruction more wisely, yet this does not prove we have detached from nature's creation to become Us—just ourselves. We still live in the world. Perhaps excessive contact with animals is precisely the start of breaking our arrogance. But we do, after all, possess power surpassing animals; for instance, a Druid can choose to copulate with a Chimera or prevent such an event. Here, a distinction appears between humanoid life and monsters based on the scope of freedom exercised. Humanoid life does not merely exist in the cycle; they have clearly gained more autonomy. Thus, this leads the topic to Anthropocentrism.
Anthropocentrism is a foundation we are so familiar with it is like air; we live in it daily. Language, law, commerce—we believe we are different, at least distinct from Gnolls. In fact, I feel I need not re-analyze the viewpoints stemming from Anthropocentrism, meaning: the viewpoint we used to analyze the event earlier was Anthropocentrism. I understand, long texts make it easy to forget what was said before. Move your fingers, be a good child, scroll up and review how we sentenced the Druid. Or skip directly here, to Post-humanism. Welcome to where we are ultimately going.
In Post-humanism, the concept of "human" is more flexible. For example, our judgment of the Construct mentioned earlier; clearly, we have treated it as him. We have used the laws of humanoid life to prove, at least procedurally, that a Construct can be a sub-genus of humanoid life. Since we have begun expanding the concept of humanoid life, in this state, is "Intellect"—standardized by language and logical thinking—merely a product of our fixation on the Anthropocentric perspective? If so, the standard of Intellect is but a concept constructed by past people using their own perceptions and common sense, capable of being overturned. Returning to our event: if we cast aside the limitations of intellect standards invented by humanoids, how can we deprive a Chimera of the possibility of expressing consent? Its body, its behavior, its pleasure in mating—is this not enough to indicate consent? To simply view the Chimera as an innocent, victimized monster is clearly a one-sided understanding from an Anthropocentric view. Because the inherent measurement standard deems the Chimera’s intellect too low, ignoring its sexual consent signals is precisely because we used a narrow concept beneficial only to ourselves. This, too, is a deprivation, a form of violence.
Furthermore, from the Druid's perspective, Wild Shape itself can be viewed as a form between humanoid and animal. I have observed that half of Druids acquire habits of their Wild Shape forms. Assuming coitus with a beast is an active choice—a suspension of universal morality, an act of exploring a new way of existence by viewing oneself as a new, infinitely generatable identity—then what? What happens? This brings us many new questions worth exploring.
First: In this case, how do we define the effective communication of any individual? Through what means? In the traditional view, the judgment of sufficiently intelligent subjects by humanoids is essentially caution and humility; we do not intend to abuse our intellect for profit, but to regulate it like fire. Yet in the Post-humanist view, intellect is no different from other abilities. Is it possible that excessive intellect could become an unregulated grey power? Causing it to become a synonym for the self-justification of the strong?
Second: We spoke of abandoning judgment to barge into the chaos of the wild. Previously, we criticized this as irresponsibility toward one's own intellect, an act of self-exile from human society. However, another view is: while other Druids view Nature as something to be guarded, something to coexist with harmoniously, is it possible they overly ignored the side of Nature that remains chaotic, disordered, and independent of anyone's will? Is feeling Nature in its essential form a more correct way to achieve the Pre-humanist state Druids dream of—a better, more resonant way of indistinction? It is truly a fascinating puzzle. Given the chance, I would be very willing to experience this brand new method—not bestiality, of course, but perhaps other ways, more acceptable ways, hmm...
Third, and completely personal, born of my own worry: Would this form of exploration be an escape from human identity? Would it lead to a rupture in social connection, sliding utterly towards—I must say, as it appears to me for now—a bestial direction bereft of human dignity? Would it lead to an evasion of the meaningful life that requires rational regulation and complexity? Perhaps after experiencing it all, there is still a chance to return? Experience is just experience?
I feel deeply that these questions are prone to controversy and profound in nature, with no fixed answers. For this, I have pondered long, sitting at my desk, writing and stopping, writing and stopping. Now it is deep into the night. Regardless, I thank the Druid. I thank him for copulating with the Chimera and letting it be known to me. I thank him for bringing forth so many new questions worth pondering. I must admit, this has truly allowed me to pass a wonderful evening, and I feel my pain has slightly subsided...
Wait. What is wrong with me? Are you kidding? HE PROPOSED INSERTING HIMSELF BETWEEN ME AND MY PARTNER!
