Harpers

The Harpers, or more properly Those Who Harp, are a semi-secret society ostensibly dedicated to the cause of good in the Forgotten Realms of Dungeons & Dragons. The Forgotten Realms video games seem to love them and they likely started Bioware's uncontrollable sexual fetish for tying their player characters to some manner of secretive pseudo-spy organisation with a basically blank check to get the job done no matter what it takes.

The foundations for the modern Harpers were laid in the ancient elven empire of Myth Draenor, where a general wanted to create something like them as a mixture of state security and a time capsule in case things went wrong. A decentralized, grassroots organization, the Harpers operate on a local, cell-based structure, like ninja, or terrorists. Theoretically self-sufficient, they are supposed to handle threats on their own while still having the ability to call on their fellow secret society members when necessary. Their famous "Harper pins," silver harps surrounded by the moon and four stars of the Myth Draenor, have, unfortunately, become too famous to ignore, much like the other secret society logos memorabilia that inspired them. (Freemasons anyone?)

Their creed sounds reasonably on the surface: promote freedom, equality, and decent treatment for all peoples, balance the power of civilization and nature, and protect and create beauty and art in the world.

Unfortunately, they've gotten a bad rap for even more unfortunately well-justified reasons. Grognards hate them because they were "meddlesome:" that is, the rails in most railroads during the nadir of adventure design in the AD&D days. While perhaps originally intended to be a group for high-level players to join (after all, their symbol is a harp and the first edition made bard the ur-prestige class), this quickly degenerated into them either being shanghaied against their will or forced to act as glorified bodyguards for the Harpers in many adventures. It's notable that nobody's favorite Gandalf clone Elminster is a member, for instance, and that many adventures boiled down to following him around while he actually solved the plot and did cool things while the party watched. The Avatar Trilogy was the nadir of this nadir, by the by, and it came around right at the beginning of second edition being a thing.

Lore nerds hate them because, far from their ambition of being a force for good, the balance of nature and civilization, and the preservation of art and beauty in the world, they're actually agents of the status quo. No shit; their dogma is that the ancient elven empire of Myth Draenor was a perfect society and their long-term aim is to recreate the world in its image, and thus that every single good idea anyone's ever going to have has already been had, and every single new idea anyone has or will ever have is automatically bad. Also, they're outright working to prevent Faerun from moving beyond the city-state level, ostensibly to protect nature from civilization's encroachment. Collectively, this means that any time someone tries to come up with a new idea, like, say, advanced farming techniques, gunpowder weaponry, or democratic, nationalistic, or simply unified government over large regions, they get them to stop, first with honeyed words, then with veiled threats, then, if that fails, with brute force. No shit; an early example of some of their actions involves murdering a benevolent monarch who was uniting too much of the continent for their liking under his rule, and it's noteworthy that in, say, the southern continent where their reach is limited, advancements in science, magic, and culture have resulted in a generally higher quality of life for the inhabitants in a harsher environment without sacrificing good, art, or nature.