The home of the Fey Folk: elves, gnomes, pixies, brownies, goblins, imps, kobolds, sprites, sylphs, and countless others. Most Fey creatures categorization, slipping through the fingers of scholars who attempt to classify them. Their magic is strong, but their nature is stronger still—chaotic, unpredictable, and forever resistant to order. It is no wonder these creatures frustrate the Wizards of the Blue Bastion, but those of the Purple Pavilion find them quite agreeable.
The Fey care nothing of human morality. Virtue and evil are trifling concepts, for the Fey act by compulsion and caprice alone. To mortals, they appear unruly and wild—yet within their own realm, there is a strange harmony to their dissonance. Carousing, trickery, and riddles abound in the magical forests where they gather. No man, beast, nor even wizard is immune to their antics: babes stolen from the crib, milk soured in the churn, travelers led astray in the night.
Yet the Fey are not merely pranksters. They are masters of thresholds—most active at dawn and dusk, haunting crossroads and rings of mushrooms where reality is distorted. To spend a single evening in their halls may be to wake timelines later beneath the same moonlight. They offer gifts of dazzling beauty, but such treasures often crumble to ash in the morning sun, and those who taste their food may never again be satisfied by mortal bread.
They dance under the stars, ruled by no human king but by strange sovereigns of their own: monarchs who may be as regal as Titania or as cruel as the Goblin King, their courts both splendid and perilous. The notorious dreamlike processions seen at the Carnival Pass are a sight to behold!
Above all, the Fey remain liminal beings: neither wholly benevolent nor malevolent. They are delight and danger entwined, the living embodiment of the wild Realm. To encounter them is to stand at the edge of sense and chaos, and to know that the world is far stranger than mortals dream.
Featured in
The Fey
Elf J Trul
The home of the Fey Folk: elves, gnomes, pixies, brownies, goblins, imps, kobolds, sprites, sylphs, and countless others. Most Fey creatures categorization, slipping through the fingers of scholars who attempt to classify them. Their magic is strong, but their nature is stronger still—chaotic, unpredictable, and forever resistant to order. It is no wonder these creatures frustrate the Wizards of the Blue Bastion, but those of the Purple Pavilion find them quite agreeable.
The Fey care nothing of human morality. Virtue and evil are trifling concepts, for the Fey act by compulsion and caprice alone. To mortals, they appear unruly and wild—yet within their own realm, there is a strange harmony to their dissonance. Carousing, trickery, and riddles abound in the magical forests where they gather. No man, beast, nor even wizard is immune to their antics: babes stolen from the crib, milk soured in the churn, travelers led astray in the night.
Yet the Fey are not merely pranksters. They are masters of thresholds—most active at dawn and dusk, haunting crossroads and rings of mushrooms where reality is distorted. To spend a single evening in their halls may be to wake timelines later beneath the same moonlight. They offer gifts of dazzling beauty, but such treasures often crumble to ash in the morning sun, and those who taste their food may never again be satisfied by mortal bread.
They dance under the stars, ruled by no human king but by strange sovereigns of their own: monarchs who may be as regal as Titania or as cruel as the Goblin King, their courts both splendid and perilous. The notorious dreamlike processions seen at the Carnival Pass are a sight to behold!
Above all, the Fey remain liminal beings: neither wholly benevolent nor malevolent. They are delight and danger entwined, the living embodiment of the wild Realm. To encounter them is to stand at the edge of sense and chaos, and to know that the world is far stranger than mortals dream.
