Letters from Faerieland
Each of the letters in this collection were penned by a traveller lost in the Faerie Realm, and have been copied into a number of introductory works on faerie lore. New letters continue to appear, often found within old book collections, folded between the pages, or delivered by a messenger that nobody can later find. It seems obvious that the faeries, or perhaps just one in particular, have taken it upon themselves to deliver the letters, and so their contents must be read with some skepticism. What is significant about them is that as far as can be established, the letters do genuinely come from deep within Faerie.
Generally, the parts of Faerie that a mortal can interact with are limited to the edges, 'close', for lack of better term, to the mortal world. This usually manifests as an altered version of the mundane world, but one that is operating under very similar rules - the normal rules are just bent a little, not broken. Deeper within faerie, this rule does not apply, and the Realm becomes ever more changeable. Here, nature tends to be subject to the whims of the faerie who rules over the area, and will reflect the type of change that faerie is associated with. So far, no method of entering these places without being taken there by the owner has been found - and when one is taken there, they do not come back. For those interested in studying the Faerie Realm, and especially for anyone interested in the faerie homeland, Arcadia, these letters are one of the few precious sources of information.
Any character with a Faerie Realm score of 1 or higher is likely to know of these letters.
Faerie castles are quite rare, for all the legends about them. Still rarer, they have taken or moved castles that exist in the mortal world - most notably when Camnos was stolen and moved to the middle of a lake after the king who lived there offended a powerful fae. The vague description does not allow much beyond speculation over which type this one is.
The tolling of bells is found within many faerie stories, where it often repels the creatures. Perhaps this, and places like it, are where they are sent by the bells? It may simply be a call to return home, but it could also be one used by a more powerful fae to call its vassals. That the dancers appear from the corner of the man's eyes seems best explained as the faeries treating the edge of his vision as a bounday. Faeries are spirits of change, and liminal places and times are especially close to their natures - that is, places and times that are the borders between things or states. Dawn and dusk, the changing of the seasons, boundaries of homes, communities and states, births and deaths all have many faeries associated with them. However, it is theorised that there may be faeries of any kind of transition, usually as minor spirits that are generally beneath notice. What kind of faerie might be able to exploit the boundary between the seen, and the unseen?
Some scholars have theorised that this type of faerie may actually be quite common, and that we simply cannot perceive them. Perhaps, when we are walking alone or in the dark, the feeling of being watched is not mere paranoia, nor the sense of impending doom anything less than your instincts screaming out a warning as an unseen predator rushes down upon you.
Of course, those are just theories. Nobody has been able to definitiely prove anything.
Faeries that are genuinely benign are still faeries - their approach can be confusing, roundabout, seemingly malicious, or any number of things that cause misunderstandings and lead to hostility. Further, faeries have different social norms humans are not aware of, and which vary between individuals or communities - the faeries of Herbstlichwald for example, are highly offended by the "theft" of their voices the ravens of the forest commit when they mimic them. All told, faerie experts would not reccomend following a random fae you know nothing about when you have any other option.
However, it does happen that communities, and sometimes but rarely, individuals develop an understanding with the fae. This typically happens with seasonal fae, whose influence over the growth of crops makes them the type of creature a rural community of subsistence farmers cannot afford to offend, and greatly benefit from keeping happy. Many areas have developed superstitions about behaviours that might offend the local fae, or leave offerings for them to ask their help in ensuring a good harvest.
It cannot be confirmed that this account actually does come from someone lost within the Faerie Realm, and it is possible it was written by someone genuinely lost in the woods. The language places it somewhere in central Ulmany though, where large forests no longer exist, and have not for centuries, harvested by the cities of the expanding Ulman Empire. The small woods and well maintained, cropped and pollarded trees the cities, towns and villages maintain themselves are not large enough that they would take hours to cross. If the account's timings are correct then many scholars believe it is more likely the author found himself inside of a Faerie Regio. These pockets of space in which the Faerie Realm overlaps with the mortal world often have strange requirements to enter - some require you to wear a certain colour, others that you hum a certain tune. Still others require that you carry some kind of token which can vary from the mundane - a bunch of rowan sticks bound with twine, or a handful of freshly picked flowers, for example - to the extravagant, as is the case in the covenant of Insolitos which sits within a regio that can only be entered by someone carrying a ruby set in gold. Without the token, which can even be a set of actions or a state of being (hungry, angry, etc), it is impossible to tell that you have passed through a spot that would otherwise have whisked you away to the otherworld.
More letters to come as time permits.
Generally, the parts of Faerie that a mortal can interact with are limited to the edges, 'close', for lack of better term, to the mortal world. This usually manifests as an altered version of the mundane world, but one that is operating under very similar rules - the normal rules are just bent a little, not broken. Deeper within faerie, this rule does not apply, and the Realm becomes ever more changeable. Here, nature tends to be subject to the whims of the faerie who rules over the area, and will reflect the type of change that faerie is associated with. So far, no method of entering these places without being taken there by the owner has been found - and when one is taken there, they do not come back. For those interested in studying the Faerie Realm, and especially for anyone interested in the faerie homeland, Arcadia, these letters are one of the few precious sources of information.
Any character with a Faerie Realm score of 1 or higher is likely to know of these letters.
The Distant City
"I cannot say how long I have been walking. The sky is midnight blue, and at times it fades to lilac, but never for long. Whatever illuminates it I cannot tell, for no sun nor moon shines in this sky. If I have drawn any closer to the mysterious casle that sits on the horizon, then it is not clear to me. Even at this distance, it is obvious that the walls of the are high, and the spires of the keep and the tower within rise far above them. It does not look familiar to me, perhaps southern architecture? Apart from the grass, the plains are empty - no trees, no animals and no people. Even bare rock finds no place here, just endless grass, and the castle.This letter was found in the library of Durenmar, by a visiting magi. It's source is unknown. Whoever they were, by their mention of Arcadia - the faerie homeland which sits deep within the Realm of Faerie, and which it is thought is beyond mortal understanding - they possessed some understanding of faeries. It is possible that the letter comes from a faerie regio rather than the actual Realm proper, as the description resembles the phenomena found in a few known regios.
I do not feel hungry or thirsty here, and the cold does not bother me. It does not seem to rain. If it were not for the loneliness, and the strange sky, I think I could be quite content in this place. However, I will press on, true to my goal - I will reach the castle, speak with its inhabitants, and then I will find Arcadia."
Faerie castles are quite rare, for all the legends about them. Still rarer, they have taken or moved castles that exist in the mortal world - most notably when Camnos was stolen and moved to the middle of a lake after the king who lived there offended a powerful fae. The vague description does not allow much beyond speculation over which type this one is.
The Periphery of the Dance
"The hall I find myself in is carved of marble, and proportioned for a giant. Walking through its corridors, I have found dozens of empty rooms. Nothing seems disturbed, and there are no webs or dust to indicate how long it might have been so, nor seemingly any kind of life. Outside, through the windows, I see that I am high up, and overlook an empty plain. In the distance, a forest, which appears pleasant, but which I find I fear even more than these deserted, looming hallways. There is no sound, not of birds, nor people, nor whisper of wind. There does not seem to be a door, or a staircase, and were I to brave the woods I would be forced to climb out of a window, though I do not know that I could make the climb down.Like most of the letters, the source of this one is unknown. Most think that they were - or are, the letter is a century old but time can move strangely in Faerie - an unfortunate spirited away by the fae, perhaps after making an unwise bargain or perhaps because a faerie took a liking to them.
At night, the silence is broken by the tolling of a great bell. It comes from above, though I cannot see it, and always rings nine times. At the first sound, I see movement in the corner of my eye, shadows flickering like flame. At the second, the movements become human figures, whirling into view already engaged in a courtly dance. The people are silent, moving swiftly to unheard music. Each of them is beautiful, men and women in equal number, but now that I try to describe them I find that I have not the words. None pay me any heed, whatever I do, and when I try to grasp one they always move away as if it was just another step in the dance. Fluidly, they twirl and cavort until the ninth tolling of the bell, and then as one, they seem to rush past me, even should I turn, and vaish once agin into the edge of my sight.
I shall remain in the castle until hunger forces me to act, in hopes that I can draw the attention of one of the dancers, and then I shall try to scale the wall, and brave the forest."
The tolling of bells is found within many faerie stories, where it often repels the creatures. Perhaps this, and places like it, are where they are sent by the bells? It may simply be a call to return home, but it could also be one used by a more powerful fae to call its vassals. That the dancers appear from the corner of the man's eyes seems best explained as the faeries treating the edge of his vision as a bounday. Faeries are spirits of change, and liminal places and times are especially close to their natures - that is, places and times that are the borders between things or states. Dawn and dusk, the changing of the seasons, boundaries of homes, communities and states, births and deaths all have many faeries associated with them. However, it is theorised that there may be faeries of any kind of transition, usually as minor spirits that are generally beneath notice. What kind of faerie might be able to exploit the boundary between the seen, and the unseen?
Some scholars have theorised that this type of faerie may actually be quite common, and that we simply cannot perceive them. Perhaps, when we are walking alone or in the dark, the feeling of being watched is not mere paranoia, nor the sense of impending doom anything less than your instincts screaming out a warning as an unseen predator rushes down upon you.
Of course, those are just theories. Nobody has been able to definitiely prove anything.
Lost in the Woods
"It feels as though I have been walking for days, though it is only hours, for the sun has not yet risen. When I left home earlier, driven by hunger to forage in the forest, the sun had not yet set. I had been warned to stay on the edge of the trees, better that I not go near them at all, for there, my mother told me as a child, there dwell the fair folk. The Lords and Ladies of the forest do not look kindly upon tresspassers, she would say, so behave, else you'll be sent into the trees to gather acorns! A children's tale of course, one I half believed - certainly the fae are real, and there are enough stories about them that there must be some in the forest, but I have never seen one before tonight nor known one who had. So it was that I decided to set aside my lifelong caution of the trees, and when no berries or plants were to be found on the edge of the forest I decided, steeling myself, to venture further in. By then, the sun had set and the stars risen, and the shadowy, gnarled branches and trunks of the trees moved like wraiths in the breeze as they surrounded me. I had some luck gathering berries that look in the dark to resemble gooseberries, and with my meagre haul I tried returning the way I had come. However far back I walked, still the trees surrounded me, still the edge of the forest was nowhere to be seen, and it settled upon me with a mounting dread that I had become lost. I am ashamed to admit that I panicked. Driven forward by my fear, of the dark, the noises of the forest turned my blood to ice and the thought that some pack of hungry wolves or some unholy monster might be waiting behind the next branch was forever in my mind. I determined not to think of it, but the stories of the Lords and Ladies intruded into my thoughts unbidden. I saw a light, one single silver sliver of it ahead. I had been rushing, but now I slowed and approached cautiously, hoping that I had chanced upon a woodsman or some such that might lead me out, but fearing the phantasms my mind had been conjuring all night. I found a young man. His hair was an earthy brown, and his clothes seemed stitched together from leaves and twigs. From his pointed ears I knew at once that he was not human. The young man sat upon the root of a tree, whittling a humanoid figure out of a branch. He seemed inattentive to his surroundings, and I do not think he knew I was there. I hesitated, wondering whether I should sneak away or risk attracting the creature's attention. The man began to hum a low, mournful tune beneath his breath, sad but pleasing to the ear. I decided to try speaking with the creature - after all, I had walked for hours. If I had not found the edge of the forest by now then I must be deeper in than I thought, and stumbling onto the right path seemed unlikely. Gathering my courage, I stepped out into the clearing. The man looked up at me, and I was transfixed by his gaze, whether in fear or wonder I cannot say. My wits slipped away, and I croaked out in a voice gone hoarse from thirst and disuse only a simple request: "Help me". The man smiled, and gracefully rose to his feet. "Follow me", he said, and then in a swift movement vanished into the forest. I set off after him, but quickly lost sight of him in the trees. I came to a halt, searching, and thought myself a fool for following and likely allowing myself to be led further astray by a capricious faerie, but just as I was about to turn around he appeared again, stepping out from around a tree just ahead of me. "Follow me", he said again with a smile, and set off as swiftly as before. For some time now I have been pursuing him, seeming to go nowhere and losing sight of the faerie, but every time I contemplate stopping he appears again, saying nothing but "Follow me" again. I shall continue following, simply because there is no better way to go. Hopefully, the young man will lead me out of the forest, or at least somewhere I recognise.This letter was written in Ancient Ulman, but it was delivered, to a Rilean nobleman expecting correspondance upon a shipment of fine pottery, just sixty years ago. Generally, it is accepted that the letter was written a long time ago and the author is no longer around to find. It is unclear whether the fae in the story turned out to be hostile or helpful, either is possible as for all the stories talk of their misdeeds fae are about as likely to mean to help as to harm.
Faeries that are genuinely benign are still faeries - their approach can be confusing, roundabout, seemingly malicious, or any number of things that cause misunderstandings and lead to hostility. Further, faeries have different social norms humans are not aware of, and which vary between individuals or communities - the faeries of Herbstlichwald for example, are highly offended by the "theft" of their voices the ravens of the forest commit when they mimic them. All told, faerie experts would not reccomend following a random fae you know nothing about when you have any other option.
However, it does happen that communities, and sometimes but rarely, individuals develop an understanding with the fae. This typically happens with seasonal fae, whose influence over the growth of crops makes them the type of creature a rural community of subsistence farmers cannot afford to offend, and greatly benefit from keeping happy. Many areas have developed superstitions about behaviours that might offend the local fae, or leave offerings for them to ask their help in ensuring a good harvest.
It cannot be confirmed that this account actually does come from someone lost within the Faerie Realm, and it is possible it was written by someone genuinely lost in the woods. The language places it somewhere in central Ulmany though, where large forests no longer exist, and have not for centuries, harvested by the cities of the expanding Ulman Empire. The small woods and well maintained, cropped and pollarded trees the cities, towns and villages maintain themselves are not large enough that they would take hours to cross. If the account's timings are correct then many scholars believe it is more likely the author found himself inside of a Faerie Regio. These pockets of space in which the Faerie Realm overlaps with the mortal world often have strange requirements to enter - some require you to wear a certain colour, others that you hum a certain tune. Still others require that you carry some kind of token which can vary from the mundane - a bunch of rowan sticks bound with twine, or a handful of freshly picked flowers, for example - to the extravagant, as is the case in the covenant of Insolitos which sits within a regio that can only be entered by someone carrying a ruby set in gold. Without the token, which can even be a set of actions or a state of being (hungry, angry, etc), it is impossible to tell that you have passed through a spot that would otherwise have whisked you away to the otherworld.
More letters to come as time permits.
by Mark Rasmuson on Unsplash
Type
Text, Letter
Medium
Paper
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