Feldbari

Feldbari mining isn’t extraction. It’s communion. They treat stone like an old friend—gruff, silent, but full of quiet truths. They know how to read a rockface the way some people read books. They say a Feldbari child learns the grain of granite before their own letters.

And while they tend to keep to themselves up in those high passes, when they do venture down into the communes, their presence is unmistakable. Slow speech. Eyes like storm-polished amber. A deep, resonant stillness in how they carry themselves, like they’ve already thought everything through a hundred times before opening their mouth.