The Fae:

The Fae of Everwealth are not a singular race, but a tangled braid of kinfolk woven from myth, magick, and madness. Faerie, Gnomish, Bugbeari, Changelings, and many others fall under this banner, a loose collective bound more by temperament than biology. Originating from the eerie and ever-shifting realm of The Otherworld, the Fae are creatures of whim and contradiction: radiant and cruel, generous and exacting, playful and perilous all at once. To many Everwealthy, they are the living embodiment of caprice, and while some would call them tricksters, others would argue the Folklands simply lack the rules to make sense of them. Fae races are often mistrusted across Gaiatia, and not without reason. Their customs blur the line between hospitality and entrapment. They speak in riddles, trade in favors, and uphold ancient pacts no outsider fully understands. A misplaced compliment might be mistaken for a vow; a broken promise, a declaration of war. Among the Fae, ethics are fluid, shaped more by beauty, balance, and poetic consequence than by mortal codes of right and wrong. This makes dealings with them risky at best, disastrous at worst. Though present during The Fall known well before and well into the centuries leading up to The Great Schism, the Fae suffered little direct loss during those calamities. Their isolation within the Otherworld spared them from most ruin, though their trade with The Folklands, our realm, was severed, and with it the flow of foreign metals, tools, and techniques. In truth, none dared invade the realm of mist and root, not for fear of its shifting paths alone, but for who, if anyone, might be watching. Still, their presence endures. Whether dancing beneath moonlight in the northern woods or bartering secrets at Everwealthy crossroads, the Fae are both marvel and menace, echoes of a world that remembers when the laws of nature sang, rather than spoke. Whispers persist that their ancient customs answer to a single name never spoken aloud in full: The Hollow Crown, the Crown Without a Head, whose laws of silence and shadow still shape the rhythm of their realm. Whether he is king, warden, or myth made flesh, none question that his will, when invoked, is final.