Telora
Four fae courts who cannot lie, one iron wall, and bargains that bind to every word. Mind what you promise, and who you dance with.
- Romantasy
- Fae courts
- Intrigue
- Bargains
romantic fae fantasy 1 memberBuilt by Worldtable
South of the Wall, mortals nail horseshoes over their doors and sleep with rowan under the pillow; north of it, four fae courts who cannot lie keep their seasons forever and fight with bargains, blades and beauty. The Winter heirs are at each other's throats, the Spring prince wears a curse, the old mortal queen is dying, and every court wants a mortal who can tell a lie.
Where it all began
the Walling
Five hundred years ago the courts took mortals as they pleased: children from cradles, brides from dances, whole villages to wait at table. The mortal queen Anaid the Smith answered with iron. She drove ten thousand nails into a wall of oak and stone across the land and forced the four courts to a bargain on the Tithe Hill: no fae crosses the Wall unasked, no mortal is taken who has not first said yes, and mortals pass only through the Nailed Gate. The words bind 'while a mortal queen of Lanver wears the iron crown in Abermaw'. Queen Eili is seventy-one and has no living heir she can name, and every court has read those words very closely.
The lands
Lanver
the Mortal Kingdom
the mortal kingdom south of the Wall: farms, forges, church bells, iron nails and a dying queen
Lanver is a kingdom built against a wall: every door has a horseshoe over it, every child has a rowan twig sewn into their collar, and the bells of Abermaw ring at dusk to tell the fae the day is over. The Walling's bargain keeps the courts out only while a mortal queen wears the iron crown, and the queen is old.
The Ardon
the Wild Wood
the wild wood between the Wall and the courts: hobs, hags, redcaps, kelpies and the Goblin Market
The Ardon is the wild wood every road to every court runs through, and it belongs to no court at all. Its people keep hospitality as law: eat at a hob's table and you are safe under his roof till morning, refuse and you are fair game. Its heart is the Goblin Market at Arbhal, where anything can be bought and the price is rarely coin.
Elenas
the Summer Court
the Summer Court: endless noon, golden revels, a generous queen whose every gift is a hook
In Elenas it is always a summer afternoon: the light never reddens, the wine never warms, and the revels never quite end. Queen Sylma gives gifts to everyone she meets, and nobody in her court is foolish enough to refuse one or careless enough to accept one without a return.
Ilwen
the Spring Court
the cursed Spring Court: a wood held in bud for fifty years, masked courtiers, a prince who is a beast by night
Ilwen has been on the edge of spring for forty-nine years: every bud on every tree is swollen and none has opened, and the courtiers wear carved masks that have grown into their faces. By day Prince Lyran holds court; by night a great antlered beast hunts the woods, and everyone pretends not to know who it is.
Tharen
the Autumn Court
the Autumn Court: copper woods, the Tithe Hill where the courts swear their bargains, and the Wild Hunt's kennels
Tharen is the court where bargains are kept. Every agreement between the courts is sworn on the Tithe Hill before the Autumn Lady, and every oath-breaker in the world is hunted from Tharen's kennels when the Wild Hunt rides.
Karith
the Winter Court
the Winter Court in the northern mountains: moonlit ice halls, a sleeping king and two heirs at war
Karith is a court of moonlight, ice and silence in the northern mountains, where the Winter King has been asleep for three years and his twin heirs, Kalon and Nari, are fighting over who will hold the throne when he wakes or does not. Snow here remembers voices, so nobody says anything important outdoors.
Who you can be
Mortal
The people of Lanver and the wall-towns: farmers, smiths, sailors, soldiers of the Wall Watch, hedge witches and the odd emissary who has learned court manners the hard way. They look like what they are, weathered and ordinary beside the fae, and they live short lives of about seventy years. Mortals nail horseshoes above doors, carry rowan and salt, and teach their children never to say thank you to a stranger in the woods. At court they are prized, pitied and owned, mostly because they can lie, and a mortal who keeps their head can go further among the fae than any fae expects. Best at: lying, handling iron, stubbornness, and learning anything a hedge witch will teach them.
High Fae
The nobility of the four courts: tall, fine-boned, pointed of ear, with eyes that catch light like an animal's and a beauty that makes mortals forget what they came to say. Each carries their court's season on them, Summer folk warm to the touch, Winter folk breathing mist indoors, Autumn folk smelling of woodsmoke and windfall, Spring folk with sap-green in their veins. They cannot lie, they cannot break a bargain, iron burns them, and they live for many centuries, which makes them patient, bored and very good at holding grudges. They value manners, wit, beauty and debts above coin. Best at: the arts of their court, glamour, swordplay, and saying something true that sends you the wrong way.
Wild Fae
The lesser folk the courts look down on: hobs and brownies, pookas, pixies, kelpies in human shape, antlered woodwights, bark-skinned dryads, goat-legged fiddlers and a hundred kinds no one has bothered to name. No two look alike, and many have something animal or vegetable about them, a tail, moss for hair, hooves, a bird's bright stare. Most live in the Ardon or serve in the courts as grooms, cooks, spies and musicians, and they keep the old rules of hospitality more strictly than any noble. Like all fae they cannot lie and iron burns them. They live a few hundred years. Best at: woodcraft, tricks, small and useful magics, getting into places, and knowing everyone's business.
Changeling
Half-fae, or fae-raised, or swapped in the cradle and raised by the wrong family: the people who belong to both sides of the Wall and neither. Most pass for mortal until you look closely, at the one gold eye, the ears a touch too fine, the way milk sours when they are angry. Iron stings them without burning, they can lie when they choose, and they feel a revel's music in their teeth from a mile off. Mortals distrust them and fae treat them as clever pets, so changelings learn early to be useful and quick. They live about two hundred years. Best at: moving between worlds, lying to fae, glamour, and being underestimated.
Redcaprare
Squat, broad and terribly strong, with long fingers, big teeth and a cap they keep wet with the blood of their last kill, because a redcap whose cap dries out sickens. They are the one kind of fae who can bear iron, and they wear it proudly in the soles of their boots and the heads of their pikes. Redcaps hire out as soldiers to whichever court pays best and are famous for keeping their contracts to the word and their songs to the filthiest verse. They cannot lie. They live about three hundred years if they keep winning. Best at: fighting, intimidation, handling iron among fae, and keeping a bargain no matter who it hurts.
Magic
Beyond the gates
- the Hunt's Road. the road the Wild Hunt rides between the worlds, under a sky of running cloud; ruled by the Huntmaster Dran
- the Long Revel. a revel under a hollow hill that has not stopped in three hundred years; Lord Sran keeps its door