Delving Deeper: the Real-Life Faenriin Tale
The ancient species of faenriin are immortal beings known to our world through millennia of song, story, and myth. With their divine powers of creation and destruction, magic known only to the faenriin and their gods, most see them as empyreal as the gods, Themselves.
Of course, to those few outside of Faenrien who have met a faenriin, the story is slightly different.
To the humans, faenriin size and magic mark them as gods. Yet human divinations lead them not to awe, but caution—and perhaps with good reason.
To the serathiin, faenriin are bringers of life, of magic, of power, illuminated by the paints of the gods upon their eternal tablets.
To the daemor, now barred from such histories, faenriin are angelic shades, as beautiful and unreachable as the daemor’s peaceful past.
But perhaps it is with the draconics that faenriin lives intertwine most ineradicably.
The draconics that seek power fear their creative and destructive abilities, for what other being could intern them in an unbreakable cage or erase their wings with but a hand movement?
Yet to other draconics, those who value knowledge and peace, they see the faenriin not as rivals, but as fellow beings that share the twin burdens and delights of long life and stupendous strength. To these draconics, the faenriin are something entirely different: friends.
In the end, however, it is only the faenriin who will judge themselves.
For a society built on such glory, such beauty is not without cracks. The miasma pushes into their lands, threatening their promised immortality with the only thing unknown to faenriin: death.
Perhaps they will awaken from the heavenly daze their Royal Gods swathe them in. Or perhaps they will lose themselves in their own perfection, those widening cracks immaculately shrouded by ambrosial fabrics and mellifluous song.
