The Kingdom of Faily

"But my children are freezing," said the axeman, "and I fear for their lives if I do not find fuel."

"Of what account are the lumpen get of mayfly men?" said the elf lord. "Touch that blade to one bole in this wood, and you shall see what it means to defy your betters."

-- Folk Tales of Cho-Bar, ed. Luo Yen-Ching, Serene University Press, Celestial City, 984 III Age

Ruler's Title: Sovereign
National Hero: Leaping Bommer
National Wizard: Gremuir Greymantle
Military Units: Elf Lord, Wild Hunt, Faily Archers, Faily Swordsmen
Starting Forces: Leaping Bommer, Gremuir Greymantle, 1 Wild Hunt, 4 Archers, 3 Swordsmen
Starting Treasury: 10
Continent: Faikana (except for Stabriel Isles, which are on Ahaut)

History: To the humans, they seem cold, cruel, remote in their dense forests, uncaring of human needs, contemptuous of all not of the elvenkind. The dwarves have quarrelled with them for ages. And let's not even talk about the orcs.

In short, everybody hates the elves.

To themselves, they are the True People, more ancient than any other folk: near-immortal, graceful, magically gifted. They claim that the kingdom of Faily has existed since the near-mythical First Age; during the Second, it acknowledged the Emperor's sovereignty and paid tribute, but maintained a high degree of autonomy. In the councils of Faily, they argue continually over whether Faily should remain aloof from the conflicts now breaking out across the world, or attempt to conquer it themselves, to prevent the need to bow the knee to an Emperor of another race.

They may not have a choice, of course; they have no friends.

To be sure, no nation has permanent friends, or permanent enemies -- only interests.

The Faily Court lies deep within the elven realm, moving magically from place to place; to those few who visit it and return alive, it seems a place of perpetual ease, and continuous celebration and indulgence. They wonder how the elves get any work done. But time is long, for near-immortals, and their intelligence uncanny. For themselves, they wonder how mayfly humans can get anything done in such petty little lives.

The Faily armies are powerful, as is their magic; but they breed infrequently, so every Faily death is of grave concern. They are reluctant warriors, but fearsome ones.