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Heroes 6 - Discussion

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An elf lives a thousand years. An elf belongs to a HIGHER ANCIENT RACE. From birth, an elf is adapted to do everything perfectly. Elves are the world's best mages. Elves are the world's best rangers. Elves are the world's best marksmen. One can only envy the elven mastery of the blade; no one else is capable of achieving the same results. Elves are the world's best smiths; their STRONGEST CHAINMAILS MADE OF LIGHT METALS surpass even dwarven work. Elves are the world's best creators; their music, dances, and songs are masterpieces of world art. Elves are the wisest of the wise: neither a gray-haired sorcerer nor a long-bearded, proud dwarf is fit to be the boots of a three-hundred-year-old elven youth who has absorbed the WISDOM OF THE RACE. If elves in a setting use horses, they are the world's best riders, gliding through brushwood as if it were a plain. Animals are always friendly with elves and obey their orders completely, and in general, an elf is the best druid.
Elves inevitably make a PREDICTION several centuries ago that the whole world fears, for they are the best predictors, and the future with all its variability lies open before them like on the palm of a hand. Elves are the prettiest humanoid race. Every single elven youth is a bratty long-hair, whose velvety facial skin puts a baby's skin to shame. Elves don't need to go to the toilet — they are a higher race. Elves don't get sick. An elf doesn't need daily sleep; mostly he enters a trance once a week, or spends the whole night staring intently at the campfire flame while the other low-born travelers snore in their sleeping bags, because he is a higher race. An elf gallops through deep snow as if it were grass. If an elf is somehow killed, he will inevitably slaughter two dozen enemies, and only then will he pathetically fall to one knee and release his noble spirit, awaiting rebirth in a new body.
Elves do not work. Peasants, in order to survive, bend their backs from dawn to sunset, soldiers endure for a penny and a sergeant's praise, dwarves in the sweat of their faces drill in their mines, process ore and forge. Meanwhile, elves sing songs in the forest, dance and drink wine, clap their hands, or for entertainment shoot an honest merchant from an ambush who dared to walk through their forest.
Elves look at all other races as dirt. An elf will inevitably curl his feminine little face and arrogantly complain that he heard and smelled stinky human-pigs from a mile away.
Elves are tedious, pretentious, and narcissistic scum. Even a dwarf-clanner obsessed with ancestral pride will gladly drink ale, joke, laugh, and maybe even start a friendly brawl, but not an elf. If an elf enters a tavern, he will sit in a dark corner, pulling his hood over his face and WATCHING THE HERO INTENTLY. Elves hardly trade or cooperate with anyone; they prefer to sit in their forest with ticks and mosquitoes and "watch with a smirk the agony of the lower races." You cannot simply talk about something with an elf; he will twist his pubescent face and hiss through his teeth Terrible Omens or Beautiful Legends, the level of which others have far to grow to reach. Elves are very slow-witted and vindictive; if once, four hundred years ago, evil bandits killed an ancestor of young Alandor, the young avenger will blaze with hatred and set his goal to cleanse the world of human beasts.
Elves lived for MILLIONS of years in their stone age with fireflies and bows, and they will continue to live that way until the "lower races," kindred to technical progress, shoot them down with rifles.
Humans fight any evil — evil kingdoms, orcs, undead, demons, and chaos. Elves kill a child lost in the forest and occasionally attack orcs who are chopping wood.

Most of the most crazed fantasy geeks fawn over elves, consider themselves elves, and some play them in RPGs in an extremely obnoxious way, gluing on papier-mâché ears, and here we shouldn't even mention "drow."
Elves are the favorite fantasy race of escapists, hardcore nerds, and whiners. Perhaps compensation for failures IRL.

For all the reasons described above, I hate elves and consider them wimps, which is what the title says.

Now, all of this is pure psychosis; elves are a non-existent part of fantasy, and if they are like that in one book, it doesn't mean they are like that in all of them. To be honest, I am writing my own book, and believe me, I don't try to put them in the best light there: constantly dirty, sweaty, stinking from battles with the tribe of water lords and dragons. Deceivers, traitors, those who spawned the undead! And simultaneously the first who responded to the human plea for help, the only people from which not a single creature fled. The cowardly dwaren went into the mountains, the lords of magic and fusion soldiers evacuated in crowds, and only the elves and humans remained until the end. If you hate them so much, fine, that can be accepted, but at least don't attribute perfection to them, for it was the high elves who exterminated millions of their brethren to prove that they were the most powerful of all! (I can briefly provide part of the history of the elven people from my book that will show they are villains and traitors, but at the same time tell that there were noble ones among them!)

Added after 4 minutes

Here he is, the faceless one
Пара банок пива, снаряд дешевого пойла
Ракета прущего дыма и море свободы
Серьезные помыслы, прущие скорости, мама с вопросами:
- Куда ты дел совесть? Стань взрослым.
Я в ответ молчал виновато
- Посмотри на брата, разве трудно быть нормальным?
Им не понять меня, не поменять меня
Хотели поломать меня - им не поймать меня
В чем моя вина?
Думал бежать отсюда, хлопал дверями злобно -
Обида-паскуда
Мама била посуду и тихо плакала
Молилась за меня Богу - свечи ставила