Caoimhe Iníon Mab Character in Cairne | World Anvil

Caoimhe Iníon Mab

Ban Drui Caoimhe Iníon Mab (a.k.a. Sile)

Caoimhe is the self proclaimed Queen of the Shadowgrove. A half Fey with a twisted hatred for all other species outside the Fey, she used her substantial power and the power of her Court to find and imbue those she deems worthy of their gift with the ability to hold dominion over and manipulate the varied and strange flora of Cairne. She is a ruthless and cruel patron, and seeks to gain enough power to hopefully return home with her kin, using the actions of those she grants this power to empower herself and her kin by absorbing the ripple effects of their actions, encouraging them to turn down darker and darker paths, often intervening personally to encourage this. The more corrupt the soul of her charge when she recovers them from the realms of men and binds them to her court, the more power she gains from the willing sacrifice they offer.

Divine Domains

Corrupted Nature

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Caoimhe was born of a young Seanachaisian couple who had opted to live in the solitude of the great coniferous forests of the Seanachai highlands, or so they thought. An unwitting bargain struck in a moment of weakness in the dark wood one night left her mother pregnant and confused. Desperate to hide the indiscretion from her husband, she carried the child to term which held her belly swollen and full for thirteen months. Her husband began to suspect at this point, but being duty bound blindly in love, he gave his wife his full trust.   The birth was long and painful, the screams of agony carrying out along the pines under a new moon and attracting wolves and other predators to their isolated cabin. The father and his brother went out to defend their land with spears and torches, struggling in the dark and on through till the break of dawn which found him injured and his brother dead. He returned home and found the mother and child sleeping peacefully and the midwife seemingly in a mild state of panic, but unwilling to say more than the obvious fact that the child was a girl and both were in good health. The poor woman could not leave fast enough. The father let them sleep and collapsed himself in a nearby chair. A glamour fell over the place, and tiny bare feet touched with precious earth and the light green of spring stole into the cabin. The creatures looked over the child, offering the blessings of their kind and whispering the lore of her ancient people into her dreams. Days passed while the mother and father slept, wasting slowly away in their slumber. The child, fair as a sunrise upon a mountain peak with eyes of black obsidian, learned quickly, a grin devoid of mirth and filled with malice etched upon the child’s face…she knew. She could see and hear what lay in store and felt no remorse for the fate of the pitiful humans that had born her, and would continue to care for her until she was ready to release them from their bargain, if she was willing. When the padding of tiny feet left the cabin and the mother and father finally woke, weakened and confused, they found a tiny, beautiful baby girl swaddled in her mother’s arms. They fell in love immediately, naming her Sile after the father’s mother, and a normal life began.   But she knew…in the night, black eyes would shine from the crib, peering out through the gloom, watching and waiting, stealing their dreams and replacing them with lies and fantasies to keep them docile and unsuspecting, but in her youth she never noticed the father was watching her also. Time passed and the girl grew, and as much as she manipulated her life and home, and as much as she hid behind the illusions of her people’s safeguards, he saw, like a shadow in the periphery, his suspicions growing through the years, turning slowly into paranoia and then mania. Accusations began to fly, threats even were made against her and her mother, her father’s agitation bursting forth in bouts of yelling and raised fists. She never interfered, curious and even amused at the terror the man caused her mother. Some days she would even instigate matters, letting small hints drop and allowing his mind to draw conclusions on its own. This escalated until, finally out of boredom or malice, she let the guise drop, just for a moment while standing behind her mother, a girl of a mere twelve years standing there, eyes black as twilight bearing a vicious grin, goading the man. He came apart, rushing at them both. Her mother reflexively turned to defend, a knife in her hand. The father’s momentum drove his body down upon the blade, but with his dying rage, he managed to grip her mother about the neck and squeezed the life out of her as he bled out, all to the lilting song of the black eyed child who hovered over them to their horror, just out of reach and giggling between phrases of her song. She played with their bodies for a time, dressing them up and staging scenes of twisted family moments but eventually grew weary of the game and left the cabin, making a life of enticing wanderers and merchants into her wood with witchfire and will o’ wisps, and luring them to their deaths at the mercy of the beasts that swelled there until the men of a nearby village set out to rid their land of the accursed “Woman of the Dark Wood”. Even with all of her tricks, she was no match for the sheer numbers of men, dogs, and their vile torches. She shrank back, resuming her form of a young girl begging for mercy and claiming she was innocent. This was enough to throw the men off, and cloud their judgment, leaving her once again to her own devices. She moved to the coastlands and hid aboard a small cargo ship set out southward and made her way across the mainland, eventually finding her way to the Arven Islands where she hid and plotted, making regular excursions inland with hand crafted beautiful items tainted with vile curses in a vain attempt to gain the favor of her fae kin that had left her behind. Despite her vicious nature, she was very much alone, and desperate to be taken away from the realms of men. Desperate to go home.   It was within the deepest parts of the islands that she found sanctuary when the Blight hit, and there she remained, the power of the Void twisting her even further, and turning her mind towards the same madness she sought so often to wreak upon the minds of the poor souls that crossed her path on her travels. Somehow, over time other beaten and broken Fey refugees began to gather there in that nearly untouched region of the south seeking shelter, and Caoimhe, half mad and lonely, did not hesitate to grant them both shelter and purpose, proclaiming herself Queen of the Shadowgrove, filling her kinfolk with horror stories and hateful inspirations, her power increasingly more and more potent as the Void's touch darkened her soul even more, adn the souls of those around her as well, all of them a reflection of the tained and cursed effects of the Void upon the natural order that they lived in tandem with.

Personality Characteristics

Virtues & Personality perks

She is a songbird, and loves to make and hear music and poetry. She is remarkably talented in this area. She is also a vile manipulator, having little concern for human life unless the individual proves to be talented in some way with the arts. To punctuate this, she doesn’t even remember the names of her “parents”.
Divine Classification
Current Status
Maintaining the Pact of the Shadowgrove
Current Location
Date of Birth
12th of Vigor
Year of Birth
1730 PR -1515 Years old
Fuinneog Thuaidh
Current Residence
Solid Black
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
4' 3"
Aligned Organization


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