Chapter Two: A World of Dreams

  Born of imagination and nurtured in the flames of creativity, changelings are creatures of fire and passion, but also of deep sorrow and inexpressible longing. All these aspects of the creatures who are the modern-day descendants of the ancient races of faerie come to light in the pages that follow. In this chapter you will learn how changelings come into being, their complex history and their current society. Herein lies a netherworld made wholecloth from dreams, visions, illusions and hope.

Mortal World versus Magical

  The mortal and the magical worlds exist side by side in tenuous juxtaposition. Most of the time the two realms ignore one another, but now and then they collide. Boundaries slip and magical elements find their way into mortal consciousness, or denizens of the "real" world suddenly find themselves surrounded by strange and puzzling sights.
  The fae are constantly striving to bring back the Summerlands, the halcyon country that once embodied the perfect union between dreams and reality — the realization of dreams. Some believe that in this way, the faerie realm of Arcadia will once again join itself to the human world, sparking a renaissance of magical possibilities that will rescue the mundane realm from its own downward spiral into stagnation and decay.
  Although humans deny the existence of the fae, relegating them to the sphere of legends and fairy tales, the fact that these stories persist reveals a desperate desire to believe in the unbelievable. Many humans want to believe that wondrous creatures such as the fae exist, but lack the capacity to sustain faith in what they cannot directly perceive or embrace through reason. In fact, most mortals hardly remember what it is they long for, so bowed down are they by a banal world that tells them that searching for intangible or spiritual fulfillment is a waste of time and energy.

Role of Changelings

  The World of Darkness has little room for dreams. Humans exist in a reality they can explain rationally but still cannot understand. All the "great" institutions conspire to tell them that the good die young, the brave come home in boxes and only the financially strong survive. Dreams — such as they are — come in sanitized, preprogrammed packages: the corporate dream, the jet-set dream, the dream of retirement and the virtual dream.
  For most people, dreams are a luxury they cannot afford. The young have nothing to look forward to except unemployment or, if they're lucky, meaningless jobs for minimum wages. When a military career looks attractive, things are dull, indeed. The old face disappointment and a society that turns its back on them. Even those who have it made — CEOs, rock stars, drug lords, politicians — find themselves surrounded by tawdriness and mundanity. The high aspirations that once fueled human achievement and creativity have degenerated into the lowest common expectations.

The Light in the Darkness

  Changelings radiate hope in a world buried in drabness. The embodiments of creativity and the power to dream, these remnants of the fae protect and nurture those fading shreds of wonder and imagination that still remain. Without them, reality would collapse under the weight of its own Banality, disbelieving in anything that could not be seen or touched or experienced by the physical senses.
  In an older time, the fae served as muses to humanity, inspiring artists and musicians, craftsmen and philosophers, prophets and leaders to expand the boundaries of their minds and hearts to encompass new thoughts and works of beauty. Now, changelings fulfill an even more important purpose. In an era when science threatens magic, reducing it to a series of physiochemical reactions or a mechanical progression of causes and effects, changelings proclaim the reality of the inexplicable. They tip the balance of the senses, jar the edges of the mind and defy the "natural laws" that consign the creatures of the world to one fixed form.
  Changelings announce to the World of Darkness that dreams exist. Like their name suggests, they represent the essence of mutability. Reality does not have to lie stagnant or conform to the rules. The children of the Dreaming, by their very existence, break the rules and shatter the conventions of everyday life. Their lives testify to the fact that what is does not have to be.
  In the Gothic-Punk universe, changelings must tread carefully, for danger assaults them from all sides. Powerful forces exist that oppose any change to the status quo. Dreams are subversive, for they contradict the world as we know it. Changelings, even the most traditional ones, act as revolutionaries and rebels, undermining the stark determinism of modem life. They allow humans to indulge in rare moments in which it seems possible to cure the world's ills — to save the rainforests, feed the hungry, find homes for everyone — and bring the light of imagination into the shadowy comers of the mundane realm.

Keepers of the Dream

  If changelings did not exist, the world would slowly and inexorably succumb to rampant disbelief, subsisting on a low-fat diet of facts and provable observations. Humans would continue to breed and jostle one another for living space, fighting wars to determine who gels the spoils of land and riches, but the hope that something more existed would be beyond their imaginations.
  As exiles from a world they can no longer enter, changelings forever yearn for what lies just beyond their grasp. They are creatures of profound sadness as well as beauty, and not all the dreams they embody are happy ones. Yet it is this lack that drives them to seek the unattainable — to reunite Arcadia and the mortal realm, and thus create a new (or re-create a very old) reality in which dream and substance become one. This is the goal to which changelings dedicate their existences, even if they do not consciously realize it. They are the keepers of the memories of a time when anything could happen, so long as someone dreamed it into existence.

History of the Fae

Mythic Age

  In the oldest time, the Time of Legends, the world of dreams existed alongside the mortal realm. No barriers separated the two realities, and magical energies coursed freely throughout the mortal lands. Wherever these energies touched rock or tree or beast, strange and fabulous creatures sprang into existence. The fae — the children of the Dreaming — passed unhindered between the borders of both realms, mingling among the human tribes that wandered the face of the land and teaching these short-lived, dynamic creatures the art of dreaming. This ability to shape new things from the fragmentary hopes and visions crafted in deep slumber helped to keep the connections strong between Arcadia, the realm of dreams, and the mortal world. By giving the secret of their lifeblood — dreams — to humankind, the fae sought to ensure their survival and proliferation. Born of dreams, they drew their continued existence from the power of the imagination to create them.
  From time to time the children of the Dreaming would show themselves to mortals in various guises, for the forms of the fae were as fluid as the dreams from which they came. In some lands, the fae became as gods to the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve; their powers to beguile and enchant made them both loved and feared by all who encountered them. In Ireland, the deeds of the ancient fae who called themselves the Tuatha De Danaan inspired awe and wonder in mortal hearts, creating legends that persisted long after their departure from the physical realm.
  Too many fae saw humans as mere playthings, conduits of dreams (or nightmares). The impressionable minds of mortals had no defenses against the fickle affections and angers of these godlike creatures. Just as humans learned to dream, they learned to fear their dreams as well. It was this fear that would become the undoing of the fae, for as the Golden Age of Legends gave way to succeeding ages of Silver, Bronze and Iron, humans learned to protect themselves from their fears. The act of self-preservation, understandable though it may have been, gave rise to the slow severing of the Dreaming from the mortal realm and brought forth the phenomenon known as the Sundering.

The Sundering

  Some say that the Sundering arose simultaneously with the Iron Age, when humans learned the art of crafting durable weapons that could cause grievous harm to both mortal and immortal foes. Others claim that as soon as humans learned to dream, they also learned to disbelieve their dreams, denying by the light of day the phantasms that haunted their nights. As tribes grew into settled communities, cities anchored humans to one place, surrounding them with houses of wood or stone. Reality itself began to settle into a single, changeless form. Dreams — and True Dreamers — became the exception rather than the rule. Gradually the mortal realm and the Dreaming began to drift apart as humans placed barriers of disbelief and walls of explanations between themselves and the creatures born of their imaginations. The damage, however, had already been done.
  Once given to humans, the power to dream could not be taken away so easily. Where once they controlled the visions of men and women, the fae now found themselves bound inextricably to the dreams of mortals. Their lives began to mimic the society around them, and fae existence soon mirrored the dreams of developing humanity. Faerie chieftains evolved into kings, faerie warriors donned the guises of knights, and faerie lands transformed into fiefs and estates. Likewise, the wars and conflicts between human tribes — now emerging nations — cast their dark reflections into the world of the Dreaming.
  As a result, faeries began erecting defenses to protect themselves from the unwanted visions of mortal society. The Mists arose to cloud the minds of humans so that their dreams could not penetrate beyond the mortal realm into Arcadia. This only served to drive the two realms even further apart.
  The establishment of the Inquisition in 1233 brought the Sundering to its culmination, as the Church's doctrinal purists sought to eliminate all undesirable supernatural elements — including faeries — from the world. To protect themselves from the gallows and the stake, the fae retreated further into the Dreaming, in some cases sealing themselves off from the mortal world altogether or limiting their traffic across the borders between the realms to certain times of the year such as Samhain (All Hallows' Eve), Beltaine and Midsummer's Eve. Other faeries sought their fortunes along the trods, fleeing their homes in Europe in search of new lands as yet untouched by Banality.

The Shattering

  Eventually, the threads that connected the Dreaming with the mortal world stretched so thin that they began to snap, one after the other. This final severing of ties between the two realms became known to the fae as the Shattering, for it not only broke the tenuous ties between Arcadia and die human realm, it also shattered the dream that the Sundering could be reversed.
  The term "Shattering" calls to mind one sudden, cataclysmic event — like an earthquake or the dropping of a nuclear bomb — but in actuality, the Shattering describes a process of small catastrophes as, one by one, the gateways that linked Arcadia with the mortal world grew brittle and crumbled, sealing off access to the Dreaming at their particular touchpoints.
  Most lorists pinpoint the outbreak of the Black Plague in 1347 as the catalyst for the Shattering. Between 1347 and 1351, 75 million people throughout Europe — including one-third of the population of England alone — fell prey to this virulent disease. The wave of fear and despair that washed over the world at this time echoed across the Mists and reverberated into the faerie realms.
  In the 14th century, the human world suffered the birth pangs of a new era. The prophets of reason, whose efforts would result in the Renaissance and the genesis of modern scientific theory, sought to rationalize away mysterious and uncontrollable events such as pandemics. The common folk took refuge in religion, forswearing their old beliefs in the supernatural for the comfort given to them by the Church, an institution which had no room in it for any magic other than its own.
  As gateway after gateway faded into nothing or splintered into thousands of slivers that disappeared upon their first encounters with raw mortality, the children of the Dreaming realized that inaction would serve only to destroy them. In the years encompassed by the Shattering, all faeries made one of three choices that would forever determine their destiny.
  Some retreated to their places of power, their freeholds or faerie glens, and performed great rituals of faerie magic to seal themselves off from the mortal world. Here the faeries known as the Lost Ones still dwell, lost within their own unchanging reality.
  Most of the sidhe, with only a handful of exceptions, fled to Arcadia through the remaining gates. In some cases, fierce battles took place at the thresholds of crumbling portals as frantic sidhe fought for the right to cross into the Dreaming before the gateways closed forever. Faerie legends claim that Silver's Gate, along with its freehold, the Court of All Kings, was the last of these gates to fall and that its closing signaled the death knell of the Age of Faeries.
  Many of the commoner kith — such as the eshu, trolls, boggans and pooka — found themselves trapped in the mortal world, left behind by a panicked nobility that cared less for the well-being of its faerie subjects than for its own survival. These abandoned faeries sought to adapt themselves to the icy world of harsh reality. As Banality swept across the world, no longer hampered by the now-severed ties to the Dreaming, the fae who could not or would not retreat to Arcadia underwent a desperate transformation, covering their true natures with a veneer of Banality that allowed them to exist in a world that no longer believed in them. They became changelings, and for the next six centuries, they struggled to keep the fragments of the Dreaming alive.

The Interregnum

  Following the Shattering, the period known as the Interregnum saw great changes in both human and fae reality. Humanity rediscovered the ancient wisdom of the Greek and Roman thinkers, and slowly turned away from religious superstition to scientific experimentation and rationalism. The Age of Exploration and its companion Age of Invention fed upon each other; new worlds were discovered, and new ideas led to breakthroughs that made life easier and transformed peasants into workers and monarchs into industrial barons. Humanity entered an era of rapid progress and social upheaval.
  Changelings, now encased in mortal flesh and only marginally connected with their faerie selves, experienced changes that were more devastating but no less challenging than those of human society. The departure of the sidhe left the commoner fae bereft of the social structures upon which they had come to depend. Gone were the noble houses, the lords and ladies, the faerie knights and the system of fiefdoms that had held faerie society together. Left to fend for themselves, changelings banded together in small groups for mutual protection, or else attempted to blend into human communities, hiding their true natures from humankind and, sometimes, from each other.
  With the emergence of towns to replace feudal strongholds, many of these changelings took to the road. Unable to fit into the increasing urbanization of human life, they wandered from village to village, joining with traveling circuses, vagabond players and minstrel groups. In the company of these fringe elements of human society, many of whom were either freaks of nature or social misfits, the commoners found refuge, as well as outlets for their creative impulses. Among the underworld of performers, changelings also discovered a steady source of Glamour, enough to preserve their fragile attachments to the bits and pieces of the Dreaming that still remained despite the world's determination to extinguish it. Many of the traditions that now characterize changeling existence date from this time of wandering and redefinition, borrowing the terminology of the circus and the theater for many of their Arts and customs.
  The old ways died hard, however, and many changelings still felt the need for a noble class to set the standards and provide a sense of structure in their shattered lives. Rising from the ranks of the commoners, some Kithain assumed old noble titles and claimed abandoned fiefdoms, creating a subculture that took the place once occupied by the vanished sidhe.

The Compact

  Before the Shattering, Seelie and Unseelie fae maintained a constant rivalry. Despite agreements between the two Courts which divided the year into two parts, with Seelie and Unseelie ruling respectively over summer and winter halves, conflicts often arose. The Shattering changed that aspect of changeling life as well. To survive, Seelie and Unseelie fae had to put aside their antipathies. In an unprecedented arrangement, known as the Compact, the Courts declared a truce and agreed to cease all hostilities against each other "for the duration." Seelie-ruled territories allowed Unseelie changelings to travel freely within their borders, while Unseelie freeholds opened themselves to Seelie visitors.
  As the two Courts mingled more freely, each adopted some of the customs of the other, and changeling society soon became a mixture of Seelie and Unseelie concepts and behaviors. Law, formality and honor learned to coexist with disorder, chaos and impulsiveness — a dynamic blend of opposites that has persisted into the present.

Resurgence

  The cold centuries passed slowly. For humanity, science and reason paved the way for the Age of Technology. One by one the mysteries of the universe fell beneath the onslaught of the microscope and telescope, revealing the microcosm of atomic theory and the macrocosm of an expanding galaxy. As avenues of wonder closed, explained away by one discovery after another, changelings huddled wherever small pockets of Glamour remained and whispered of the coming of Endless Winter, a time of ultimate triumph for Banality.
  Then the miraculous happened. On July 21, 1969, millions of people all over the world watched their televisions in fascination as astronauts landed on the moon. Glamour rocked the world, released from centuries of confinement by the simultaneous reawakening of humanity's sense of wonder. From science's iron womb, magic — at least for a moment — was reborn.
  A moment was enough. The upsurge of Glamour blew open the gateways to Arcadia, reopening faerie trods that had been dormant since the Shattering. Lost freeholds reappeared, their glory restored by the power of humanity's dreams of walking on the moon.
  On the other side of the Dreaming, the rebirth of Glamour in the world resounded through the ancient faerie realms of Arcadia. The shining hosts of the sidhe returned to the world, pouring forth from the newly opened gateways to confront a reality far different from the one they departed centuries before. Most of these new arrivals came as exiles, the result of a tumultuous upheaval in Arcadia that caused the banishment of five of the 13 houses that originally fled the mortal world. The Mists clouded the memories of these returnees, leaving only the knowledge that they were thrust out of Arcadia as punishment for their part in some great disturbance in the faerie homeland.
  Unfortunately, the groundswell of Glamour caused by the moon landing could not prevail for long against the accumulated centuries of disbelief that permeated the world. The doors to Arcadia slammed shut once more. The sidhe had to act quickly to prevent Banality from destroying them outright. They fell back on the tried-and-true method of switching bodies with mortals, sending a host of unwary mortals back through the gateways that had briefly sprung open. Since the Resurgence, most sidhe who have entered the world as outcasts and exiles still use this old method of protecting themselves from Banality, seizing upon convenient mortal bodies to house their delicate spirits. Although the true fate of such dispossessed human souls remains unknown, most sidhe believe that these mortals enjoy an awakening in the Dreaming. In other cases, newly arrived sidhe avail themselves of the presence of very young children or unborn infants and insinuate their essence into the psyches of these impressionable beings, coexisting in symbiosis rather than taking outright possession of mortal souls.
  Although the Resurgence, as the return of the sidhe came to be called, occurred everywhere, most faerie nobles reentered the world in those places where the pull of Glamour was strongest. Ireland, the British Isles and other places throughout Europe still radiated enough faerie magic to attract many of the sidhe, but the vast majority of nobles emerged in America. In 1969, the West Coast was experiencing a revolution in consciousness. In San Francisco, the Summer of Love was at its peak, making that city a beacon of Glamour that served as the focus for the returning sidhe.
  From their points of entry, the sidhe spread quickly throughout a revitalized mortal world. A clarion call sounded, summoning commoner Kithain from their hiding places to resume service to the nobles. Reclaiming their old freeholds, the Resurgent sidhe moved with the confidence of their inborn sense of authority. Despite the fact that the world had known 600 years of change, the sidhe expected to reestablish the ancient kingdoms of the fae, abandoned so precipitously during the Shattering. They were met with unanticipated opposition from Kithain society.
  For centuries, commoners had survived without the leadership of the sidhe. New leaders had risen to fill the void, and many common fae learned to do without leaders altogether. The feudal system, so dear to the Resurgent sidhe, had outgrown its usefulness. In its place, new forms of human government based on plurality, democracy, socialism and other populist systems undermined the strict hierarchy of nobles and commoners.
  While some commoners rallied behind the nobility, others rebelled. An uneasy period of political maneuvering ensued, culminating in an event which forever stained the reputation of the nobility. In America, commoner leaders, summoned to a meeting on Beltaine under the pretense of establishing an accord with the sidhe, met death from cold iron in a wholesale slaughter that came to be known as the Night of Iron Knives. Any hopes for a peaceful settlement of the commoner-noble dispute died that night.

Accordance War

  Commoners responded to the massacre with the uprising known as the Accordance War. Throughout the land, pitched battles between commoners and nobles resulted in the destruction of many Kithain and threatened to destroy the fabric of changeling society. For three years, civil war raged across the chimeric landscape, spilling over into riots and gang violence in the mortal world. Although the commoners fought desperately and had energy and spirit in abundance, military experience lay with the sidhe knights, who excelled in organized tactics.
  The sidhe gathered under the command of the warchief Lord Dafyll of House Gwydion. A brilliant strategist and ferocious warrior who inspired fierce devotion in his armies and rabid hatred in his enemies, Dafyll led the shining host to victory after victory, methodically working his way from the Pacific coast eastward across the continent. At last, Lord Dafyll reached New York, where the commoners' forces met his armies with their fiercest battalions.
  In a climactic battle on Manhattan Island, Dafyll's forces clashed with the Eastland Troll Army and the 4th Troll Commons Infantry. The Battle of Greenwich began in Central Park's Strawberry Fields but spread rapidly throughout downtown Manhattan, finally deteriorating into scattered bouts of street-fighting. The urban trolls harried Lord Dafyll's troops until they were forced to retreat and regroup, falling back to the subway station in Times Square. During the ensuing chaos, Lord Dafyll fell, mortally wounded by an iron blade. His enchanted sword Caliburn disappeared somewhere within the dark tunnels beneath the city streets. Commoner troops searched in vain for the weapon, hoping to use it to rally their own forces. Some say Dafyll placed a charm upon the sword, hiding it from unworthy eyes until the coming of his rightful successor.
  The death of Lord Dafyll gave new life to the rebel commoners, and motleys of redcaps and nockers took to the streets, seeking the. lifeblood of any nobles they could find. In the midst of the furor, a new leader of the sidhe arose. His coming and the manner of his appearance brought about the means of ending the Accordance War.

The Rise of High King David

  David Ardry's mortal host was born in the early '60s in upstate New York. The childling David and his sister Morwen spent their fosterage as part of a group of noble childlings sheltered from the worst of the Accordance War by True Thomas, the Grand Bard of the fae. After the death of Lord Dafyll, word reached True Thomas that his charges were in danger from a war party of commoners looking for noble blood. Fleeing these assassins, Thomas and his wards made their way to the heart of the enemy camp, seeking to hide themselves in plain sight, where their enemies might overlook their presence.
  Their flight brought them to Times Square on New Year's Eve, where a patrol of redcaps spotted True Thomas in the throng of celebrants crowding the square. In the midst of the year-end revelry, the valiant bard used all of his powers to defend his young wards against a superior-armed foe. During the onesided battle, David Ardry felt a pull of Glamour so powerful that he could not refuse to follow it to its source. The young sidhe returned to the thick of the battle, holding aloft a glowing sword — the lost Caliburn — and fought beside True Thomas to turn away the attackers. Unnerved by the sight of the legendary weapon, now glowing with a brilliant golden light, the redcaps fell back in disarray. "Behold!" Thomas cried to friend and foe alike. "Thou dost look upon thy king!"
  After their encounter with destiny, Thomas took David, Morwen and his other charges to the safety of Queen Mab's court in the Kingdom of Apples. Word had already preceded them that Caliburn had been found and that its wielder would become the long-prophesied High King of the faerie. Queen Mab refused to believe the tales at first, and scorned the young sidhe when Thomas presented him to her in her throne room. When she ordered the upstart childling removed from her presence, a magnificent gray griffin — the symbol of House Gwydion — materialized around David, sheltering him with its gigantic wings. "Can you now deny the fulfillment of the prophecy?" True Thomas's words rang out with the force of his geas of truth. "'The son of the Griffin and the sword that was lost shall come together in the apple bower.'" In the face of overwhelming proof, Queen Mab recognized David Ardry ap Gwydion as the rightful High King of the faerie.
  For the next three years, David and Morwen lived with Queen Mab at her palace of Caer Loon in the Kingdom of Apples. During that time, the young king-aspirant worked to establish his right to rule both commoners and nobles. He met with opposition from both at first. The Accordance War still raged, though the omens surrounding David's discovery of Caliburn had broken the back of the commoners' cause. Despite his youth, David displayed an innate political acumen and a profound empathy for all fae, longtime resident commoners and newly arrived sidhe alike. Again and again he successfully answered challenges of wit and combat from nobles who insisted on testing his fitness to rule. He repeatedly sent emissaries to commoner leaders, pleading with them to make common cause for the survival and prosperity of all the fae. David's egalitarian viewpoints and his respect for the achievements of the commoners to preserve the Dreaming during the Interregnum eventually won the support of his most ardent enemies.
  At long last, after three hard years of struggle on the battlefield and negotiations in courts and motley freeholds, the Accordance War came to an end. A true "accord" between nobles and commoners resulted in the hammering out of the Treaty of Concord. The terms of the agreement reaffirmed the sidhe's right to rule, but recognized the rights of commoners to an unprecedented degree. The monarchs of the kingdoms of the fae agreed to appoint commoners to their privy councils and to take advisement from groups of common fae. The Treaty of Concord also required nobles to appoint representatives from the commoner kith to positions in their courts.
  Some say that the peace forged so carefully and with such acute vision represented the dream of High King David. Certainly, the young king served as chief architect of the Treaty of Concord. Uniting the seven kingdoms of North America under his rule, David named his high kingdom Concordia, in honor of the treaty and the spirit of unity it represented.

The Present

  Today, High King David rules Concordia from his fortress of Tara-Nar, a splendid chimerical palace built from his Glamour-filled dreams. Called "the Lion of Tara," "the Commoner's King," and "the Son of the Griffin," David Ardry ap Gwydion embodies the principles of ferocity in battle, liberality of thought and guardianship of all fae. His legendary honor and wisdom have endeared him to his subjects, bringing some of his most obdurate enemies to his support. He is never without Caliburn, the symbol of his authority and the proof of his destiny.
  Assisted by his sister Morwen, who rules in his absence, High King David strives to exercise a benevolent and peaceful rule over the fae of Concordia. In his lands, the fragile strands of the Dreaming grow stronger. Though some voice disagreement for his policies, finding him either too conciliatory toward commoners or too supportive of the nobility, most fae in his lands enjoy the freedom to pursue their dreams.

Nature of the Fae

  Part flesh and part dream, changelings' appearances mirror their dual natures. Changelings see one another in their true forms, as embodiments of the Dreaming given form by the Glamour of faerie magic. This is their fae mien. Banality shrouds this form, however, hiding it from the world under a humanlike appearance, called the mortal seeming. Changelings do not shift between the two forms like shapeshifters. How a changeling appears depends on who perceives her and on her proximity to the Dreaming.

The Chrysalis

  Changelings are both born and made. Born into the bodies of human infants, most changelings spend the first parts of their lives as normal children, sometimes reaching their teens or even full adulthood before the part of themselves that belongs to the Dreaming manifests. Regardless of when — or how — the changeling spirit emerges, this transformation begins with an explosive, often traumatic, inner awakening known as the Chrysalis.

Hints of the Dreaming

  The Chrysalis, or moment of becoming, breaks the shell of Banality that hides a changeling's true self from the mortal world. Like the Big Bang that created the universe, this event propels the newly aware changeling headlong into her first real contact with the Dreaming. Assaulted from every side by a barrage of sights, sounds, smells, tastes and tactile experiences that contradict the harsh, cold reality other life up to this point, the new changeling may believe that she is going mad. In a way, perhaps, she is — according to the world's definitions of sanity. But in another sense, somewhere in the depths of her psyche, she realizes that she has, at last, come home.
  Many changelings grow up as misfits in their societies. Even as children, some undefinable essence clings to them, causing those who know them to label them "exceptional," "gifted" or — too appropriately — "fey." As children they are likely to have imaginary playmates (who might not be so imaginary after all), or insist on believing in magical worlds of dragons and superheroes long after their playmates have progressed to team sports and dating. As they grow older, these changelings-to-be continue to strike their families, friends and colleagues as eccentric, holding onto a whimsicality that prevents them from being fully at ease in the modern world. This sense of not-quite-belonging comes from the nascent Kithain soul, still quiet but now faintly stirring within the changeling's mortal flesh, waiting for the proper time and circumstances to make itself known.
  Just as a dormant volcano puts out warning signals of an impending eruption, the Chrysalis announces its approach by enacting subtle (or occasionally not so subtle) shifts in the reality of the changeling. These can take the form of sudden flashes of impossible — to mortal eyes — vistas, hallucinations of mythical creatures in unlikely places (a unicorn in the boss's office), periods of personality dissociation or the feeling that another person has taken up residence in the mind. Few changelings realize at the time what it is that they are experiencing; some, in fact, seek psychiatric or medical help.

Dream Dance

  When the time is right, usually at the most inopportune moment in a changeling's life, the warnings stop and the Dream Dance begins. This is the high point of the Chrysalis, when a new changeling's world takes a hard left. The volcano erupts, the earth trembles and rives apart, the tsunami strikes the shore, and cosmic fireworks announce the changeling's liberation from the tyranny of form and reason. Glamour rushes to surround the awakening changeling, engulfing her with the stuff of raw Dreaming, so that nothing she sees, feels, hears, smells or tastes bears any resemblance to the paltry senses that once connected her to the world outside her body. In fact, during the Dream Dance, the fledgling changeling has a hard time perceiving just where her physical body ends and where the world of experience begins.
  The changeling plunges into direct confrontation with the Dreaming for the first time. Surrounded by Glamour, she sees her true fae self resplendent in the light of chimerical reality. The Mists that have clouded her mind until now roll away, revealing the world as seen through changeling eyes — a world formed by Glamour and infused with faerie magic. Visions of Arcadia, vignettes of earlier manifestations of her immortal fae self and sometimes vague glimpses into her future scroll rapidly through her mind, too quickly for her to take it all in or comprehend. Later, she may remember only fragments of these revelations.
  Her waking thoughts and deepest dreams (or nightmares) coalesce out of the roiling pool of Glamour centered on her, becoming the chimeric partners of her Dream Dance — and attracting the attention of every changeling in the neighborhood. Often these chimeric creations invade the surrounding reality, overcoming the local Banality and giving rise to rumors of dragon-sightings in downtown Manhattan or sea monsters in San Francisco Bay.
  Not all changelings can cope with the intensity of the Dream Dance. Some succumb to madness as the walls of their human facades come crumbling down around them. Others take refuge in Banality, forcibly denying the reality of their experience and refusing to accept that they are something other than "normal." A few turn against the Dreaming and everything connected to it, giving themselves over to the ranks of the Dauntain, the destroyers of the Dreaming.
  A changeling is at her most vulnerable during the Dream Dance. Helpless to make sense of the barrage of sensual and perceptual transformations that are exploding in and around her, she exudes Glamour like a beacon, allowing all Awakened creatures to home in on her location. This makes her easy prey for some of the less wholesome supernatural denizens of the World of Darkness as well as for those who hunt changelings.
  Changelings in the area of an individual undergoing the throes of the Dream Dance have a duty to locate and protect their new cousin, and most willingly do so — if only to take advantage of the overflow of Glamour. This is often the first introduction a fledgling has to the larger changeling community, and to other changelings.

Fosterage

  Once a changeling has undergone the Dream Dance and is aware that she is one of the exiled fae, she now has to find a place among those like herself. Usually, other Kithain — those alerted to her existence by the telltale surge of Glamour from her Chrysalis — bring the fledgling to the nearest freehold. There, she begins her education as a child of the Dreaming. She learns the reason for the overwhelming experience she has just undergone and discovers her true nature as well as her faerie kith (or race).
  At the same time, the new changeling usually acquires a mentor, who "adopts" her and acts as her guardian and tutor during the first year or so after her Chrysalis. This period of fosterage takes its name from the medieval custom whereby nobles exchanged children so that alliances between new generations could form. Because the new changeling's mortal family (if she still has one) cannot understand the profound revelations induced by the Chrysalis, the mentor and his companions become a second family to the fledgling. To protect the bond between guardian and ward, both parties swear an Oath of Fosterage. This is usually the first experience a changeling has concerning the power of the oathbond.
  Usually the mentor is an older, more experienced Kithain, often a grump, but sometimes a wilder. The choice of the individual who serves in this position falls upon the ruler of the freehold which first sheltered the changeling. If the fledgling is a member of the nobility, the local lord often chooses a mentor. Although this relationship exists to benefit the fosterling by easing her into Kithain society, all too often local Kithain politics determine who receives the "honor" of taking a new changeling under his wing.
  When a motley — a group of commoner Kithain — discovers a new changeling, it rarely delivers ifs prize into the hands of the nobles, preferring to roster her itself. In these cases, the mentor is the most influential member of the motley or the one who best suits the ward. Fosterage among commoners lacks the hierarchical nature of noble fosterage, and the new Kithain's guardian often acts more like a big brother or sister than a foster parent.
  Although a guardian is the single biggest influence on a new changeling, often imposing his viewpoints and interpretations of Kithain society and interactions upon his ward, this does not mean that the ward becomes a carbon copy of her mentor. In fact, the reverse happens as often as not: the natural rebellion of youth asserts itself, and the new changeling patterns herself after the opposite of her mentor. Thus, a Seelie guardian can have an Unseelie ward, or a traditionalist noble can foster a changeling with strong anarchist tendencies. Despite these differences, however, unless the mentor abuses the bond between himself and his ward, a changeling often retains feelings of respect and affection for her first protector throughout her life.
  Since the Mists separate a changeling's mortal kin from knowledge of the Dreaming or Kithain society, a guardian often makes his ward the heir to his estate and titles (if he has any). This custom assures continuity from one generation to the next.

The Saining

  The period during which new Kithain adjust to their roles in changeling society typically lasts for a year and a day, and is divided into two distinct parts: the time of warding and the time of watching.
  During the time of warding, guardians or mentors keep a close watch on childling or wilder fledges, taking responsibility for any transgressions of Kithain customs or traditions made by their wards. Gradually the restrictions upon new fledglings are relaxed, and they begin to interact more directly with their new surroundings and other changelings. This relaxing of supervision marks the beginning of the time of watching. Now the fledgling learns from hard experience, making her own mistakes and bearing the consequences of her actions.
  Changelings who undergo the Chrysalis late in life, after they have reached adulthood in the mortal form, receive slightly different treatment. Rather than suffering through a period of adoption, these new "grumps" (as older changelings are called) are guests of a sponsoring freehold or motley. They still receive instruction about their faerie heritage and place in Kithain society, but their hosts make allowances for the wisdom and experience their human existence has taught them. For many new grumps, the transition between their former lives and their new existence comes as a relief, an explanation for all the nagging feelings of discomfort and displacement they felt in human society. For others, the upsetting of everything they have known places them in a precarious state of mind and only the most judicious treatment can help them acclimate.
  When a new changeling has successfully survived both warding and watching, she undergoes a ritual called the Saining (literally, "naming") that initiates her as a full member of Kithain society. During this ceremony, seers versed in special Arts are able to part the Mists and discover the True Name of the new Kithain. This secret name defines each changeling's relationship to the Dreaming and embodies her essence. All changelings who have undergone their Sainings know that their True Names must be held closely and told to no one outside their household or motley. Knowledge of another being's True Name gives the knower power over that creature, so some changelings refuse to tell their True Names to anyone.
  A sidhe changeling undergoes a variation on the Saining ritual, a secret ceremony attended only by members of the noble house that has sponsored the fledge. In addition to the naming ceremony, the newly awakened sidhe undergoes the Fior-Righ, an ordeal which tests her physical, mental and social prowess. The results of the Fior-Righ determine her rank and to which noble house she belongs.
  Occasionally, noble houses deliberately plant one of their own into a mortal family and bide their time until the mortal host undergoes her Chrysalis. Under these circumstances, the house already knows much of the information normally revealed by the Saining, such as the changeling's house, character, strengths and weaknesses.
  After her Saining, a changeling swears an Oath of Fealty to the lord other freehold or to the motley which has adopted her. Depending on her skills and her willingness to do so, she may take service in the household of her new lord. The Saining marks the end of the Chrysalis for a changeling and the beginning other life as a resident of both the mortal world and of her true reality, that of the Dreaming.

The Grip of Time

How Changelings Age

  The seeming a changeling begins at is the mortal age at which he undergoes the Chrysalis and awakens to his fae nature. Thus, a childling is usually 12 years old or less, a wilder in his teens or early 20s, and a grump is older than that. There are some exceptions to these age groups among changelings, but most Kithain have seemings that fit close to their mortal age.
  A changeling advances in seemings as he advances in mortal years, from childling to wilder to grump. Eventually grumps fall into the infirmity of old age and die, although a great many changelings are Undone by Banality long before their mortal seemings die natural deaths. Very few changelings pass peacefully into the Summerlands of old age. More often in this day and age they are Undone by the increasing Banality that tends to come with age, or die in violence against their enemies.
  Most changelings fear the Forgetting or being Undone far more than mortal death, because they know that upon death they will continue on to the Summerlands and into life once again. Their fae nature can only be destroyed by pure Banality, such as cold iron. What a changeling fears most is having his immortal fae nature destroyed and lost to the world forever, denied even the chance to find the way back to Arcadia some day. The permanent loss of any changeling is a tragedy to all Kithain and a sign of Banality's increasing hold on the world as Winter draws nearer.
  The sidhe fear the cold touch of death more than any other changeling, because their fate is not as certain as that of the other Kithain. Latecomers to mortal life, the sidhe have mortal seemings just as other changelings do. However, when they die, there is no sign of the sidhe being reborn into the mortal world as the other Kithain are. It may be that the sidhe, their punishment on Earth complete, return to Arcadia, enjoying Springtime for the rest of eternity. But it may just as easily be that death is the final punishment for the exiled sidhe, and that their fae natures are destroyed upon their mortal deaths, cast into Oblivion, never to be seen again. The mere possibility of such a fate is enough to chill the soul of any changeling. What happens to the fae spirits of the nobles when they die is a complete unknown, and that dark mystery frightens all of the once-immortal sidhe to the core.
  Some scholars have suggested the scandalous theory that sidhe are reborn into the world, but as commoners, the better to teach the exiles some humility and empathy for the Kithain who were left behind to suffer the long years of the Interregnum. The sidhe put little stock in such an idea, coming as it does from the scholars and archivists of the disgraced House Liam.

Preventing Aging

  Many changelings have sought ways to prevent the inevitable march of time from affecting their mortal seemings, to regain some glimmer of the immortality they once enjoyed, but these efforts have always ended in failure, sometimes tragically, as in the case of Lhandren, the legendary Lord of Foulness.
  The only means to prevent aging for a changeling is time spent in a freehold. Of course, spending too much time in a freehold risks a changeling entering Bedlam, so most Kithain balance their time inside freeholds with time in the outside world. Generally speaking, changelings with regular access to a freehold are longer-lived than mortals, and the very oldest changelings play a complex game of dodge-ball with Bedlam, Banality and the clock that they are going to lose sooner or later — one of the reasons why the very oldest changelings all seem to be a little batty.
  It is more typical to find nobles who have extended their lives through spending time in a freehold than it is to find commoners doing the same. Nobles fear the effects of death and aging more than most commoners do, since the commoners know they will come around again, sooner or later.
  There are legends of treasures that can slow or prevent aging in changelings, like the mystical Fountain of Youth, but so far as is known, none of these items have been seen anywhere outside of Arcadia, and may not even exist on Earth. Any such treasure would be the subject of a great quest on the part of the changeling who discovers its existence.

Effects of Aging

  As time marches on, changelings suffer the same effects of age as mortals do. They also endure some specific effects associated with their fae natures as they age. This section details those changes.

Mortal Seeming

  Most changelings live in the world of flesh, interacting daily with human society and its inherent disbelief in magical reality. To survive in a world that refuses to believe in the existence of trolls, boggans, redcaps and nockers, changelings take on the appearances of humans — adopting mortal seemings that hide their fae miens from mundane perceptions. Some hint of a changeling's true self always permeates this mortal mask, though. A troll might appear as an unusually tall or muscular human, while a deer pooka might have large eyes and extremely slender limbs. While changelings always perceive the fae mien of other Kithain, most humans see only the outer form, never realizing that the wild-haired, shaggy-browed musician they admire is actually a satyr whose faerie soul has serenaded crowds for hundreds of years.
  As time passes, a changeling's mortal seeming changes just like any other mortal's body does. Children grow and become adolescents, then adults, and eventually grow old and pass from this world. The effect of being in a freehold halts a changeling's mortal aging as well as her fae aging, so childlings and wilders often have trouble in mortal society when years seem to pass for everyone but them and they never grow up (or do so half as fast as their friends and playmates do). This often leads to childling or wilders abandoning their mortal families and becoming "Lost Boys" (and girls) who run away from mortal society and spend all of their time living in freeholds, eventually slipping into Bedlam unless they are taken in or provided some kind of shelter in the outside world.
  To prevent this fate, fosterage is used to provide these youths homes with sympathetic changelings or kinain who understand their fae natures, although this can sometimes cause problems with the human authorities. A childling fears few things as much as a Banality-laden representative of Child Welfare Services coming to call on his fosterage to find out why he is involved in such "strange" activities away from his natural parents.
  Adult wilders and grumps often have similar problems when co-workers, friends and neighbors realize that there is something "strange" about the changelings, particularly if they retard their aging in freeholds. For a while, the lack of change is not noticeable, but when years go by and the changeling seems to age very little, there may be questions or idle curiosity to be concerned about.
The more time the changeling spends in a freehold to prevent aging, the more likely that someone in mortal society will notice something unusual. This can cause a changeling to be cut off from her mortal life, forcing her to spend more time in freeholds and taking a greater risk of slipping into Bedlam.

Fae Mien

  A changeling's fae mien is her true self, the faerie soul hidden within a costume of mortal flesh. Unlike the pale shroud of skin which forms a changeling's mortal disguise, the fae mien partakes of immortality. To those with eyes that can perceive the Dreaming, the true form of a changeling shines through the false veneer of mortality. Changelings always recognize each other as denizens of the Dreaming.
  Within the boundaries of a freehold, faerie trod or any place enriched by Glamour, a changeling's fae mien completely overwhelms her mortal guise, but even outside these protected environs, the faerie soul persists in announcing its presence to other changelings, who have no trouble distinguishing it from the mortal clothing it wears. Unless a changeling is overwhelmed by Banality or has deliberately rejected or renounced this part of herself, other Kithain can always see her for what she is — a vixenish pooka or a mighty troll warrior.
  A changeling's fae mien changes when the changeling's physical age (not her chronological age) reaches the appropriate point in her life. Thus, a childling becomes a wilder when she reaches 13 physical years, even if she has been a childling for 20 chronological years or more from time spent in freeholds. She undergoes a rite of passage appropriate to the new stage of life that she is embarking on, and her new seeming is recognized by the rest of fae society. This process represents a changeling gaining in wisdom and experience, but also a slow and inevitable turn of the wheel toward Winter and the journey to the Summerlands.
  For the Kithain, aging is more than a process of growing up and growing old; it is the accumulation of wisdom, experience and the Banality that often comes with the loss of childling innocence. It is part of the process of how a changeling becomes an elder in fae society, and eventually passes her wisdom and experience on through the Dreaming to her next mortal life.

Banality

  Disbelief threatens the very existence of changelings. The curtain of doubt and rationality that humans raised centuries ago to explain away their fears not only separates the mortal world from the Dreaming, it also erodes the spark of creativity that gives rise to hope and imagination. Changelings call this universal negation of the creative spirit Banality, for it seeks to reduce the marvelous to the mundane, the miraculous to the ordinary, and the unexplainable to the impossible. Many older Kithain refer to this destructive force of disbelief and cynicism as the Endless Night or the Long Winter, for it epitomizes darkness, dreariness and relentless cold. It is the death of the spirit.
  Banality clouds the minds of mortals to the wonders of the world around them and blinds them to the possibilities for making their dismal lives better. Banality argues that things are as they are through a long, tedious process of cause and effect. Evolutionary processes and entropic decay only go in one direction, and all things will eventually come to a grinding halt with the death of the sun. Banality is the wet blanket of the cosmos. In more immediate terms, Banality prompts a jaded parent to destroy a child's belief in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. It forces a talented student to lay aside his dreams of becoming a great writer or musician in favor of joining the work force because his advisors counsel him to make "realistic" decisions about his future.
  Banality rules the World of Darkness, casting its icy shadow over urban landscapes and ruined countrysides. Contact with this malevolent force threatens to extinguish the flame of faerie magic. Held in its cold iron grip, the Dreaming fades and chimerical splendor devolves into tawdry wisps of foolery and idle imaginings. The Kithain fear Banality almost more than they fear anything else, even death, for on the day that the last shred of Glamour falls prey to its mindless rationality, the Dreaming disappears forever.

Glamour

  In bright contrast to Banality, Glamour energizes the world around it, shedding light on everything it touches, transforming the most ordinary object into a thing of unimaginable beauty or indescribable terror. If matter (or whatever currently passes for matter) forms the building blocks of the mortal world, then Glamour comprises the basic stuff of fae reality. Glamour powers the Dreaming, gives life to chimerical creations, and invests physical substance with magical energy. Also known as "faerie magic," Glamour gives changelings the ability to create castles out of tenement buildings, weave grand illusions that are "real" to those who touch the Dreaming, and enchant mortals to do their bidding or to see the world as changelings see it.
  Changelings depend on Glamour for the ability to sustain their fae mien and to cast their cantrips (or spells). Without a steady supply of this precious element, changelings soon forget their connection to the Dreaming and fade away into their mortal seemings and mundane lives.
  In the World of Darkness, Glamour is a rare commodity. Banality has greatly diminished the supply of Glamour, and changelings spend much of their time searching for new sources and preserving what still exists. Most changelings believe that if they can increase the amount of Glamour in the world, they can reduce the effects of Banality and eventually return the world to its original, magical state.
  Like most sources of energy or power, Glamour is imperceptible to normal senses. Lacking belief, mortals cannot see Glamour or anything created from it. Nevertheless, it is as real as atoms, wind or thought. Changelings, because they know that Glamour exists, can sense its presence. All Kithain have some degree of faerie sight, or kenning, which enables them to perceive the currents of faerie magic, though those who possess the Kenning Talent (see pg. 140) are more skilled in its use than others. Kenning allows changelings to see through each other's mortal seemings and recognize their fae miens, as well as to locate freeholds and perceive chimerical creatures and objects.

The Undoing

  Banality can so overwhelm a changeling that it divorces her completely from her faerie nature, driving out all memory other true self and her link to the Dreaming. When this happens, a changeling slowly forgets that she was ever anything except a normal human. Her fae mien becomes so faded that other changelings have a hard time perceiving her as one of the Kithain. This catastrophe is called the Undoing, because it unravels the stuff of the Dreaming that surrounds a changeling until nothing is left but mortal flesh and a hollow soul.
  A changeling's mortal seeming is her best protection from the dangers of the Undoing. By incorporating a small portion of Banality into her essence, a changeling can build up a tolerance for small amounts of Banality. Thus she can keep hold other true self while going about her mundane existence, knowing in the back other mind that she is one of the Kithain even as she waits tables or studies for her medical degree. Hiding behind a mortal seeming also camouflages a changeling from the active agents of Banality, who seek out those like her with the intent of destroying them or severing them from the Dreaming. Prolonged contact with Banality wreaks its toll on the changeling psyche regardless of the limited protection afforded by the mortal seeming, so most Kithain seek out every available opportunity to escape from the confines of mundane reality.

Cheating Banality

  Hiding in plain sight of mortals has long been a custom of the fae, even before it was necessary. To amuse themselves, faeries would occasionally switch places with mortals, taking on the seemings of human infants or children (transporting the individuals so displaced to Arcadia) to experience existence in the flesh. Such children, however, were different from normal children, and some humans astutely recognized them as "changelings."
  Later, when the Shattering threatened the continued existence of the commoners who remained in the world after the departure of the sidhe, these enterprising faeries realized that their best hope for survival lay in a variation on the ancient tradition of "changing" themselves for humans. By entering the bodies of unborn infants, commoners were able to begin lives as human infants, inuring themselves to the ravages of Banality until their faerie selves grew strong enough to spark the Chrysalis. When a changeling's mortal body died, her soul returned in a new body. Thus, the Changeling Way was born. Most commoners and a few sidhe (primarily from House Scathach) reincarnate in succeeding generations of human families, generally those with fae blood.
  The disadvantage to placing a faerie spirit within a cocoon of flesh lies in the forgetfulness that accompanies the process. All changelings lose their memories of their true selves when they assume mortal seemings. Until a changeling undergoes her Chrysalis, she acts fully human, believing that she is nothing more. Occasionally, mortals who host faerie spirits are so engulfed by Banality that they never discover their true natures. Their untold stories remain forever clouded in the Mists between the worlds.

The Mists

  Born from a mixture of Banality and the ancient protections erected by the fae to hide themselves from the eyes and minds of mortals, the Mists stand as the greatest barrier (second only to Banality itself) between the Kithain and the Dreaming. Because they have made themselves part of the mortal world, all changelings suffer from the forgetfulness inflicted by the Mists. These clouds of disenchantment and befuddlement deprive most changelings of their memories of Arcadia, their past lives and even keep them from remembering their true selves.
  Unless they work aggressively to retain enough Glamour to ward off the effects of the Mists, changelings quickly degenerate into their mortal forms, losing not only the physical evidence of their faerie natures but the memories that they were ever anything more than human. This state of partial amnesia leaves afflicted changelings with a gap in their minds that aches to be filled, driving many to search desperately for what is missing. For them, the hero's quest of self-discovery is a journey undergone many times, much like a recurring dream — or, in some cases, nightmare.
  Occasionally the Mists part, revealing glimpses of a changeling's past. Most often, this occurs in dreams, for the dreams of the fae are, in fact, rare moments of contact with the Dreaming. Once in a great while, a changeling recalls something of her life in Arcadia or a snippet of information about one of her past reincarnations. Too often, however, the curtain drops, and the dreamlike memory dissipates under the harsh glare of Banality.
  The Mists always hide the Dreaming or anything connected to it from the eyes of true mortals. The Banality inherent in most humans blinds them to anything that exists outside the normal parameters of their worldview. What they don't believe in, they don't see, or else they find some rational explanation for it such as a momentary hallucination or a "trick of the light." Unless deliberately enchanted, mortals remain wrapped up in their comforting layers of reality, logic and cynical disbelief.

The Kith

  When a changeling emerges from her Chrysalis to take her place in the society of the Dreaming, she enters a new world with anew identity and the knowledge that she belongs to one of the many races of the fae. A changeling's faerie race is called her kith. Although there were hundreds of faerie kith before the Shattering, not all of them remained in the world. Of the ones that did not flee to Arcadia, only a few survived.
  Changelings refer to themselves individually and in groups as Kithain or "the Kithain," a word derived from "kith" and denoting a member of a faerie race. Even before their Chrysalises, the mortal seemings of dormant changelings often reflect their kith, thus making it possible for Kithain to ken the presence of potential changelings despite the wash of Banality that hides the fae self from sight. This is not always the case, however. Sometimes a changeling's kith does not become apparent until her mortal body is exposed to the infusion of Glamour that announces the onset of the Chrysalis.
  As a changeling ages and her Banality increases (as it inevitably does), her fae mien and mortal seeming come to resemble one another more and more closely. Eventually she succumbs to the fate of all changelings: Her fae self merges with her mortal form and her kith vanishes, forever swallowed up in the world of Banality — until mortal death brings about the faerie spirit's reincarnation and the dream begins anew.
  The nine kith that comprise the majority of Western changeling races are:
  • Boggans — Known as practical and home-loving helpers of those in need, boggans are also inveterate meddlers in the affairs of those they help. Quiet and industrious, they excel in accomplishing household or everyday tasks at an astounding pace.
  • Eshu — Originating in Africa, the eshu now exist in all parts of the world. These perennial wanderers live for the stories they collect and tell. Their sharp wits and innate canniness make them shrewd bargainers, while their talent for being precisely where they need to be at the proper time sometimes leads their companions down unexpected paths.
  • Nockers — The bizarre appearance and curmudgeonly attitude of these industrious changelings masks an overwhelming desire to tinker and build. Skilled crafters and smiths, nockers seek a perfection they can never achieve and often prefer the company of their creations to social interaction.
  • Pooka — The pranksters of the changeling community, pooka share an affinity with animals and a love of tricks and practical jokes. Clever and deceptive in their speech, these roguish changelings never tell the complete truth.
  • Redcaps — Hideous in body and in manner, redcaps not only give changelings a bad reputation, they glory in adding injury to insult. Their bloodthirsty behavior, coupled with their uncanny ability to ingest virtually anything they can fit into their oversized mouths, wins them few friends outside their own kith.
  • Satyrs — Satyrs embody the essence of sensuality. Shameless hedonists, they live for carnal pleasures and sensual gratification. Nevertheless, they are valued for their wise counsel and musical talent.
  • Sidhe — Epitomizing the beauty and grace of the "classic" faerie, these aristocratic changelings exude an aura of authority and nobility regardless of their true status in changeling society. Sidhe rarely question their right to rule.
  • Sluagh — Secretive and sly, these odd changelings prefer darkness and hidden places. Able to speak only in whispers, sluagh collect information with a passion and disseminate it only for a price.
  • Trolls — These giants of the fae possess incredible strength and determination. Once they give their loyalty, nothing can sway them from those they have sworn to protect. Honor walks in their footsteps.

The Houses

  Sidhe who awaken to their faerie selves not only discover their kith, they also acquire knowledge of the noble houses to which they belong. When the trods opened in 1969, allowing many of the sidhe to return to the mortal world, five noble houses came through from Arcadia. Many of them retained the vague sense that their return was forced upon them, an exile from the Dreaming as punishment for deeds they could not remember.
  Unlike the commoner kith, the sidhe have only been on Earth in substantial numbers since the Resurgence. Nevertheless, the five noble houses quickly reasserted their presence on Kithain society, restructuring it to fit their memories of the old days before their untimely departure. Today, in the aftermath of the Accordance War and the Treaty of Concord, these houses maintain a monopoly on the power structure of the Kithain.
  Since the Resurgence, individuals from the eight houses remaining in Arcadia have arrived on Earth, either banished from the Dreaming as renegades and outcasts or else sent to fulfill specific purposes. Due to the action of the Mists, these solitary sidhe seldom remember the reasons for their appearances in the mortal world. Although these loners usually find sanctuary under the aegis of one of the established noble houses, they rarely rise to high positions in their adopted houses since their hosts can never be certain if they are giving shelter to Arcadian criminals or heroes on Earthly quests.
  The noble houses take their names from their legendary founders, who imbued their lines with certain aspects of their personalities. Thus, members of one house share some characteristics, although individuals may vary widely from the stereotype.
  Chapter Three: The Kithain provides a more detailed description of the five noble houses that make up the bulk of the sidhe.
  • House Dougal - Known for its practicality, common sense and no-nonsense attitude, House Dougal values order and preciseness above the more "flighty" qualities of the other noble houses. Architects of sidhe society, these nobles seek to expand their domain through wise and prudent planning rather than through intrigue and manipulation.
  • House Eiluned — House Eiluned has a reputation as the House of Secrets, and many of its .members excel in the faerie Arts. Masters of intrigue and subtlety, they are valued for their arcane knowledge but distrusted for their secretive behavior. The reputation of their founder, the sorceress Lady Eiluned, has blackened that of the house as a whole.
  • House Fiona — Passionate and headstrong, House Fiona bears a wild streak that shows even among its most conservative members. Indulging in all forms of sensual gratification, members of this house are notorious for their radical thinking and impulsive behavior. They are equally quick to love or anger, and give themselves utterly to whatever cause they espouse. Their hospitality toward commoners and nobles alike is legendary.
  • House Gwydion — If the sidhe believe in their innate right to rule the commoners, the Gwydion sidhe believes it is their destiny to rule the sidhe. Members of this house demonstrate the best and worst aspects of true nobility. Valuing honor above all and dedicated to the defense of the Dreaming, they also demonstrate a tendency to violent outbursts that often lead to tragic ends.
  • House Liam — Since their return, members of House Liam have developed a sense of duty toward mortals, protecting them from the abuses of Ravaging by the fae. Although they are gentle and soft-spoken, nobles of this house make fierce warriors when called upon to defend the helpless or the innocent. They often serve as sages and record keepers to other noble houses, despite the stigma of disgrace attached to their name.

Changeling Society

  Newly awakened changelings hot only discover their newfound identities as individuals, they also become aware that they belong to an entire society of the fae. Changeling society has its own structure, customs and laws, and each new-Kithain must understand all of these aspects if she is to coexist amicably with others of her kind.
  Most changelings, if they are not already inclined to the company of others, soon learn that their best chance for survival lies in making connections with other changelings. Left to their own devices, solitary changelings quickly succumb to Banality. Because it is so dependent on belief, Glamour must be shared to proliferate. A lone changeling cannot withstand the constant denial that surrounds him in the mortal world. (In this case, if a chimeric tree falls in a forest and no changeling witnesses it, not only does it not make a sound, it does not even exist!)
  The basic units of changeling society are the noble household and the commoner motley. Members of these groups are usually bound to each other by oaths of some kind (see below). Both households and motleys eagerly seek out new changelings, since each Kithain represents a new part of the Dreaming that has come to life in a world bereft of dreams.
  Usually centered around a freehold, households and motleys derive their power and influence from these pockets of the Dreaming. The protection of a freehold often constitutes the primary duty of each changeling group.

Households

  A household describes a group of changelings who reside together in a freehold and who serve the noble lord of that freehold, either as vassals or as retainers. Households subscribe to the feudal structure reimposed by the Resurgent sidhe. They ally themselves with the noble hierarchy and form the backbone of the Kingdom of Concordia and its subject kingdoms. Every household displays the coat of arms of its ruling lord or lady as well as a unique battle standard. A household lord must bear the rank of knight or better. More often, the rulers of households are barons or greater lords.
  Kithain take great pride in their households, working to ensure their successes and increase their reputations. The achievements and glory of one member of a household brings fame to everyone in the group, while a household's honor likewise reflects upon all its members. Competition between households is common, and each usually has at least one major rival. Rival households seek every possible opportunity to confront one another, whether on the jousting field at tourneys, in open warfare or on civilized battlefield of courtly amours.
  Although the sidhie rule most households, a few ennobled commoners maintain households that are as loyal, if not more so, to the social structure that empowers them.

Motleys

  Groups of commoners form motleys rather than households. A motley consists of a loose confederation of Kithain, allied through ties of friend ship or mutual survival. Most motleys exist outside the feudal structure, and a few actively oppose what they see as the oppressive rule of the sidhe. In fact, they offer themselves as an alternative to the dominant hierarchy. Motleys either function without permanent leaders, or their leaders are chosen by the members of the group.
  Motleys first formed during the Interregnum, when the commoners who remained behind after the departure of the sidhe banded together in groups to weather the, storm. Adapting to life in the mortal world by forming traveling circuses, freak shows and other itinerant groups, motleys proliferated Europe. Those commoners who relocated to the American continents brought with them the tradition of free association embodied in their motleys, thus helping to strengthen the idea of independence from divine rule that eventually sparked the New World's rebellion from Europe.
  Most motleys base themselves in freeholds of one sort or another, working together to protect and maintain these havens from outside dangers as well as from the greedy desires of nobles seeking to increase their domains. Motley freeholds are called mews, and serve as open sanctuaries for all Kithain. Some motleys still maintain a modified form of the nomadic lifestyle of their circus origins, taking up temporary residence in convenient freeholds until forcibly evicted. Because of this practice most households rarely leave their freeholds completely unguarded, lest they return from a tournament or some other group fendeavor to find themselves displaced by a rowdy commoner motley.
  The relationship between motleys and the local nobility varies from place to place. In general, nobles consider motleys as little better than gangs or, worse, as outlaw bands. The proliferation of motleys has, however, forced the nobility to recognize the power they represent among the Kithain. In most cases, nobles in any given fiefdom attempt to gain control of the motleys in their area, using them as pawns and catspaws to further their ambitions and political machinations.
  Today, motleys serve as a powerful check on the power of the nobility. They represent the voice of the commoners, and provide visible proof that the Kithain do not need the rulership of the sidhe to survive and prosper. Many nobles consider motleys dangerous and try to break their hold on the common fae. Few motleys exercise any real influence over the conservative rulers of the kingdoms of the fae, but their sway among the hoi-polloi is growing daily.

Oathcircles

  There exists a third form of changeling social unit, called an Oathcircle, which often transcends or crosses the lines between households and motleys. Oathcircles comprise groups of friends who swear oaths of loyalty to one another. While freeholds may serve as bases for one or more oathcircles, some such groups have no permanent home.
  Oathcircles usually arise from groups of changelings who enjoy each other's company and who share similar interests. Nobles and commoners may belong to the same oathcircle, sharing equal ties with each other regardless of their rank in Kithain society. Occasionally oathcircles form due to circumstance — fighting a common enemy, achieving a particular goal or undertaking a specific quest. In these cases, the oaths that bind members together rnay be temporary, but are no less strong for their finite duration. In addition to the responsibilities such a binding carries, oathmates are able to pool their Glamour, acting in concert to enhance each-other's cantrips and increase their effectiveness as individuals and as a group.
  In addition to households, motleys and oathcircles, changelings also frequently form secret orders and societies, as well as cliques for gathering Glamour.

The Courts

  Even before the Shattering rendered changelings dual creatures of Glamour and Banality, the children of the Dreaming possessed a two-fold nature. Permeating all of faerie life on an individual as well as societal level, the twinned strands of Seelie and Unseelie enlivened (he Dreaming with its pas'de'deux of contrasts between light and shadow, order and chaos, law and freedom. Eternal rivals for ascendancy in the fae world, the Seelie and Unseelie philosophies once engaged in a perpetual struggle for dominance. Now they exist in an uneasy state of truce forged during the Interregnum, but liable to shatter as the pressures of the mortal world bring the sides closer and closer to outright conflict.
  Each outlook has its own Court, and although all changelings possess both a Seelie and an Unseelie side to their natures, only one of. these aspects rules the personality of a given individual. Thus, Kithain are labeled either Seelie or Unseelie depending on which Court they embrace and, therefore, which side of their personality they tend to favor. This is not secret knowledge; the Seelie and the Unseelie are known to one another, and;.this information affects dealings between individual Kithain.
  A changeling's Court marks her in myriad ways. Though the indicators of Seelie and Unseelie behavior are not always clear-cut, it is usually not hard to tell which Court holds a particular Kithain's allegiance. The two Courts react to each other instinctively, sometimes based on the innate differences between them. Seelie Kithain distrust their Unseelie cousins, while Unseelie sneer at their Seelie counterparts. Circumstances and treaties may force them to tolerate one another, but a certain amount of prejudice arid disguised hostility often breaks through; the elaborate veneer of coexistence.
  Before the Shattering, Seelie and Unseelie Courts alternated their rule over the fae. During the spring and summer, the Seelie Court held precedence and celebrated the pageantry of life and growth. In the dark months of autumn and winter, the Unseelie ruled, honoring the grand process of death and entropy. Together, the Courts symbolized the eternal cycle of life and death, growth and decay, fertility and fallowness. The transfer of power from Seelie to Unseelie took place at Samhain, while the Unseelie gave over their right to rule to the Seelie at the Beltaine feast. During the Interregnum, this custom ceased as both Courts were forced to band together to survive. Since the Resurgence, the Seelie sidhe have held power and are loathe to surrender it, even temporarily, to their Unseelie cousins.
  In Concordia in particular and throughout the fae world in general, Seelie and Unseelie Kithain had to put aside their eternal rivalry in order to assure the survival of the Dreaming. This has led to some odd juxtapositions within changeling society. Occasionally a freehold's lord will belong to a different Court than most of his members, and an oathcircle will sometimes contain both Seelie and Unseelie members, all of them bound by oaths that transcend their different outlooks.
  Although neat pigeonholing of the differences between Seelie and Unseelie Courts is almost impossible, there are a few general distinctions that differentiate one from the other. Seelie are associated with light, summer and daytime; Unseelie belong to darkness, winter and night. The Seelie Court represents orderly traditions and lawful behavior; the Unseelie Court is notorious for breaking old traditions, devising new ones and, in general, urging constant change. These are not always the hard-and-fast descriptors for determining a changeling's Court. Occasionally a Seelie changeling fosters radical notions, while a veteran Unseelie knight holds extremely conservative attitudes. What is certain is that the two Courts exist and are locked in an endless cycle of rivalry. Together they embody all that is both good and bad, light and dark, static and dynamic in changeling society.
  On rare occasions a changeling switches from one Court to the other, usually as a result of some great personal transformation in her life. Changing Court is not done lightly, for in order to do so a changeling must forswear her old nature and surrender to the other half of her personality, taking on her Seelie aspect if she was formerly Unseelie or vice versa. This choice alters her place in Kithain society and transforms her perceptions of herself. Accordingly, changing Court usually takes place only at certain symbolic times of the year, such as during the Samhain or Beltaine festivities.

The Seelie Court

  The Seelie have a reputation as the guardians of fae traditions. They see themselves as peacekeepers, proponents of courtly love, protectors of the weak and embodiments of the ideals of chivalry. They tend to be traditional and often conservative in their outlook, preferring the tried and true over the risky and innovative.
  Most Seelie seek the reunion between the mortal world and the Dreaming, and would like nothing better than a return to the time before the two realms split apart. To this end, many members of the Seelie Court consider the gathering and preservation of Glamour to be their sacred duty, a process of reawakening in mortals the ability to dream. Though they may consider the Unseelie Court their greatest rival, Banality is their greatest enemy.
  Seelie changelings place honor above most other virtues. For them, the concepts of oathbreaking, treason, cowardice and other dishonorable behavior comprise a litany of the most grievous crimes imaginable. In addition to honor, they value courage, truth, beauty, justice and other attributes of the code of chivalry.   In many ways, Seelie Kithain concern themselves with the past. Bards and lorekeepers occupy places of honor in Seelie households. These keepers of legends and knowledge counsel their Seelie lieges with storehouses of information on how things used to be and on proper behavior in any given circumstance. Many Seelie, especially the noble sidhe, devote themselves so entirely to recreating the past that they affect the dress and manners of the Middle Ages, the period they last remembered from their time on Earth before the Shattering.

The Unseelie Court

  Where the Seelie dedicate themselves to preserving the traditions of the fae, the Unseelie style themselves as mockers of those traditions. They stand for the principles of constant change and impulsive action. They have a reputation for fostering war and madness, despising those weaker than themselves, and valuing freedom and wildness over any chivalric code. The Unseelie see themselves as radical visionaries, bringing about vital change and transformation through whatever means necessary, including violence.
  Most members of me Unseelie Court believe that the Dreaming has abandoned them, and, therefore, that they owe no special loyalty to it or to their lost home of Arcadia. Unseelie fae use Glamour for their own ends, to gain strength and personal power and to further their political ambitions. The Unseelie feel that they should be the masters, rather than the servants, of the Dreaming. Furthermore, most Unseelie hold the conviction that the fae should rule humanity, since that feeble race of short-lived mortals exists only to provide the Glamour necessary for faerie existence. Thus, many Unseelie changelings lord it over the mortals they come in contact with, often surrounding themselves with groups of enchanted and enslaved humans in order to feed shamelessly on their dreams.
  Some Unseelie, like their Seelie kin, wish to return to the Dreaming, but only to increase their own power and to bring the Dreaming under their rule. Unseelie changelings consider Banality a powerful opponent, but do not fear it in the same way that the Seelie do. Rather, they would like to conquer and harness Banality, making it, like the Dreaming, serve their purposes. A few truly radical Unseelie changelings believe that Banality represents the wave of the future, the true synthesis of reality as opposed to the illusory flimsiness of the Dreaming. These ultraradicals think that their strength of will can overcome Banality, and use it as a potent weapon against their Seelie rivals.
  The Unseelie forswear the past, looking instead to the uncertain future. They consider stagnation, worn-out traditions, repression, censorship and limitation to be crimes against the free exchange of ideas. They take on the roles of champions of freedom, harbingers of change, advocates of free thought and breakers of rules. Many show outward contempt for courtly ways, going to great lengths to mock the chivalric behavior of the Seelie. Other members of the Unseelie Court follow many of the traditional ways, but do so because they are free to make that choice, not because custom dictates their behavior.

The Shadow Court

  During the Interregnum, a tradition known as the Shadow Court arose. Established by the Unseelie to mimic the lost custom of alternating rule, the Shadow Court became the primary way in which Unseelie changelings could retain some vestige of their lost position as shared rulers of the fae.
  Called together during the evening rites of the Samhain celebration, the Shadow Court rules the changeling community for one night only. During its brief reign, it bestows honorary titles which carry over for the Unseelie half of the year. It also openly mocks the Seelie traditions, providing sometimes humiliating or painful reminders to its rivals that an alternative path exists for the fae to follow. Most Seelie fae dislike being made fun of, but grudgingly put up with the Shadow Court as a harmless outlet for Unseelie proclivities.
  The Shadow Court occupies the current status of a Mardi Gras-like celebration, allowing changelings of both Courts to cast aside their inhibitions for a single night and revel in their deepest passions and most perverse dreams without fear of censure or punishment. Seelie changelings pay homage to their Unseelie natures on this night, becoming their dark halves for the duration of the festivities. The fallen fae are also honored during this time, for the Shadow Court feels a special affinity toward the spirits of the dead, who are central to the Samhain rites.
  What most changelings do not know is that the Shadow Court meets at other times of the year as well, and has its own secret agenda known only to its members. The honorary titles bestowed at Samhain make it obvious to all changelings who currently lead the mock court, but since these positions are only nominal, few Kithain take them seriously. The clandestine — shadowy, in fact — meetings of the Shadow Court take place under conditions of utmost secrecy, and only the Court's most trusted members attend.
  Although most Unseelie rulers tend to be on friendly terms with the Shadow Court, and may even suspect it of existing as an independent entity apart from its annual incarnation at Samhain, the leaders of the Shadow Court do not consider themselves bound to notify their "allies" of their every action. In fact, keeping even Unseelie rulers in the dark about the workings of the Shadow Court ensures a low profile for its members, who like it that way.
  The real purpose behind the Shadow Court lies hidden to most Kithain, and its sinister plans for the future continue to unfold, appropriately, in the shadows of changeling society.

The Medieval Paradigm

  Faerie society draws heavily on the customs and traditions of 14th century feudalism. While changelings take part in the modern world and live their mortal lives surrounded by the fruits of 600 years of technological and political "progress," when they interact with the Dreaming, they return to a world garbed in the distant past. This persistence of medieval trappings among the fae occurs for a number of reasons.
  Despite the fact that commoners have adapted outwardly to changing times, their souls continue to barken back to the era before the Shattering. Because of this, most changelings exist within an eternal time loop. While their mortal flesh undergoes a constant cycle of aging, death and rebirth, their ancient spirits find comfort in the familiarity of medievalism.
  In addition, the mortal world continues to exercise its own power over the remnants of the Dreaming. Most fairy tales take place in a medieval setting, and humans who still entertain a belief in faeries imagine them existing in a world full of castles and mythical creatures. Thus, the forms common to the Middle Ages provide the path of least resistance for changelings.
  Finally, the sidhe nobles who control faerie society were absent for the rise of democratic government, and many modem political trends make no sense to these traditionalists. Since the Resurgence, these rulers of the fae have structured their power bases along feudal lines, reverting to the framework that existed at the time of the Shattering. The feudal system, based as it is on the protection of the land, presents an ideal model for a society centered around the preservation of freeholds and other places sacred to the Dreaming.
  Feudalism arose among humans during the Middle Ages as the culmination of society's slow transformation from a hunter-gatherer nomadic lifestyle to an agricultural, sedentary model. Although older cultures placed great value on the fertility of the land, die rise of towns and the growth of populations made the production of food the single most important concern of most people. Feudal society arose around the need to guarantee the safety of the land for the people who tilled the soil. In return for their protection, the common folk swore fealty to lords and knights, who were occupied solely with readying themselves for their duty as guardians of the land. A hierarchy evolved with the nobles and warriors ruling over the peasantry. Despite this rigid class structure, the system of vassalage created strong ties of loyalty between rulers and ruled. Knights had a solemn duty to protect those who labored to put food on their tables, while peasants had a duty to feed those who put themselves at risk to ensure the peaceful working of the soil.
  Although six centuries of change and invention have made the feudal system obsolete in the mortal world, feudalism and vassalage still serve a purpose within fae society. The rarity of freeholds and places where Glamour still concentrates makes these sites vulnerable to greedy usurpers and unconscious bearers of Banality. Under a system of kings and nobles, knights and peasants, the fae on Earth are able to impose a stable superstructure upon their society, one in which freeholds enjoy the protection of those strong enough to defend their precious stores of Glamour and chimeric magic. In addition, the pageantry and stateliness of medieval times appeals strongly to the changelings' natural bent for elaborate ceremonies and rituals.
  The Accordance War resulted in a modified form of feudalism as the overriding form of fae government. Not quite so rigid as Earthly feudal systems, fae feudalism still provides a solid framework in which changelings can relate to one another, secure in the knowledge of who they are and the place they occupy in their society. The constant hostility of the mundane world fostered a great need for stability in changelings, and the feudal system provides the Kithain with a necessary anchor.
  A complex network of loyalties and oaths bind together the various rungs on the hierarchical ladder of changeling feudal society. The swearing of an oath and the value of a changeling's word are sacred bonds, not taken lightly. Breaking an oath constitutes one of the highest crimes among both Seelie and Unseelie Kithain. All changelings within the society have certain duties and responsibilities delineated by the oaths they have sworn. Nobles and knights swear to protect those under them. Commoners swear to obey those above them. Transgressors meet with swift punishment, not only by the courts of justice but through social ostracism and rejection by their peers.
  Even Unseelie lords demand loyalty from their subjects. Despite their promulgation of freedom and license, many of these Kithain are just as insistent on the obedience of their followers as their Seelie counterparts.

Commoners and Nobles

  Commoners have lived on Earth since the beginnings of the fae. Trapped here after the Shattering, they survived by placing themselves in mortal forms, undergoing continual reincarnation. By being born and reborn into human families, they have both protected themselves from the worst effects of Banality and have developed close ties with humankind. Nobles, in contrast, are usually sidhe transported from Arcadia during the Resurgence, here for a single incarnation and determined to make the best of their time in the mundane world. Although a few sidhe have entered the world through assuming the bodies of unborn humans, all of them realize that they have only one life to live before their spirits travel to an uncertain fate. This distinction makes most nobles obsessed with gaining and maintaining power and prestige, and differentiates them from the commoners, who know that if they don't succeed this time around, they can always try again.
  Nobles consider commoners to be lowly and tainted with the trappings of mortality. Commoners see nobles as arrogant and unfeeling, concerned only with power and status. Although some commoners and nobles may like and respect one another as individuals, in general, the two classes of Kithain share a mutual distrust and dislike. The Treaty of Concord enforced the feudal system on commoners, but most of them still do not fully adhere to all of its strictures, privately rebelling against the more onerous duties relegated to them as "lower" Kithain. Most commoners pay lip service to the local lord while reserving their own private opinions, considering themselves fully the equal of any noble.

Liege and Vassal

  Noble society hinges on a hierarchy in which rank and title determine one's position in the greater community. Respect is given to those of higher rank and expected from those of lesser status.
  Within a feudal structure, almost every noble owes fealty to a higher noble. Even the kings and queens of Concordia are vassals of High King David, the supreme authority of faerie society in America. In a similar fashion, every noble is someone else's liege. Only squires, who occupy the bottom rung of the noble hierarchy, have no vassals, although they may exercise some limited dominion over the pages beneath them.
  Commoners fall outside the strict hierarchy of noble society. Traditionalists regard them as little better than peasants, and therefore consider all commoners to be their subjects. In some cases, in the aftermath of the Accordance War, a few commoners have attained noble rank and have thus integrated themselves into the noble hierarchy. Despite this, nobles consider "titled" commoners to be upstarts and rarely take them seriously.
  Although many nobles see the acquisition of power as their primary goal, others hold the bonds between liege and vassal as sacred, seeing in these oaths the symbols of continuity and stability that promote an atmosphere in which Glamour can be harvested and protected and in which the fae can survive. Even these nobles are not exempt from political intrigue and maneuvering, however, for feudal societies encourage just such arcane jockeyings to improve position and garner additional status.
  Those at the top of the hierarchy go to great lengths to ensure that they remain there and do everything possible (short of outright theft) to increase their holdings and expand their power bases. Alliances shift and change between nobles as circumstances dictate, with only the laws of the Escheat to temper them. Those at the bottom of the social ladder seek to better themselves and attain higher status through achieving recognition and respect.
  Rights and privileges play an important part in the relationship between lord and vassal. Lords exercise certain powers over those they command, but they owe their vassals certain obligations in return, such as protection and sanctuary against outside threats. Likewise, vassals owe their lords loyalty and service. If a lord abuses the rights of his vassals, they, in turn, can lawfully rise up against their lord and overthrow him or else appeal to their lord's liege to correct the situation. This interlocked system of rights and duties holds noble society together.

Noble Obligations

  Changeling nobles owe their vassals certain obligations. Nobles cannot abuse their vassals or treat them as thralls, slaves or even servants. Nobles must protect those beneath them from outside harm, whether from rival houses or from the agents of Banality. A noble lord owes her vassals sanctuary in times of need. She must provide fair judgment over all disputes within her domain, and cannot decree punishments without rightful cause. A noble acts as administrator over the property of commoners residing within her fief; her justice is supreme, and no outsiders may usurp her decisions. Nobles also have the duty to provide for holidays and festivals for the celebration of Glamour and the strengthening of ties to the Dreaming.
  Judgments deemed unfair or unjust may be appealed to a higher lord. Violation of a noble's rights gives her the power to turn against her liege, who has forfeited his honor by breaking his oaths of loyalty to the violated noble. While noble society does not condone abuse of vassals, despots do occasionally arise, and, unless they are successfully opposed, often continue to tyrannize all those unfortunate enough to owe fealty to them.

Rank and Privilege

  The bestowal of titles and the attaining of ranks form the core of the feudal society of the fae. From king to squire, each rank has its own rights, responsibilities and treasures that symbolize its power.
  •King or Queen — Among the fae, the resonance of the Dreaming creates a close relationship between the ruling monarch and the land. In many ways, the king is the land. The actions taken by a monarch, however inconsequential they might seem, affect her domain. Usually, a kingdom reflects the personality of its ruler. If a king becomes brooding or falls prey to despair, darkness and cold become physical manifestations within his realm. If a queen suffers from great depression due to an unrequited love, her land may know constant rains and flooding. An older king's aloofness brings an icy chill to his kingdom, while a young queen's unruly passion results in mayhem and chaos throughout her domain. In times of war, a king or queen acts as warlord over all the armies within the realm.
  Kings and queens are addressed as "Your Majesty," or occasionally "Your Royal Highness" (this is more common for a prince or princess).
  Royal Treasures: Kings and queens possess crowns that allow them to know the locations of all the pennons (the markers of their territories) in the kingdom, scepters that allow them to draw Glamour from any hearths of balefire in the kingdom, seals that can countermand any ducal signet's imprint, and a weapon that is considered an extension of the royal will.
  • Duke or Duchess — These are the highest nobles under the king or queen. They hold title to large numbers of freeholds (ruled in their names by lesser lords). Their domains typically include entire cities or large rural areas. They may have up to five counts and barons as vassals. Some serve their king or queen as diplomats, traveling throughout Kithain society on missions of import and subtlety. In wartime, dukes and duchesses act as generals and marshals of their monarch's forces, serving as commanders-in-chief of specific armies.
  Dukes and duchesses are addressed as "Your Grace."
  Ducal Treasures: Dukes and duchesses possess signets that allow them to sign treaties, assign lands, make proclamations and issue writs. These contracts are legally binding only within ducal fiefs. In addition, dukes and duchesses possess pennons that allow them to establish freeholds as their personal fiefs, superseding any counts' claims. They also possess hearthstones that allow them to draw Glamour from any hearths in their fief. Finally, they carry weapons that symbolize their right to command royal armies.
  • Count or Countess — These nobles rank just below dukes and duchesses, but are nevertheless accounted as powerful lords. Their lands are known as counties, and occupy significant portions of a city or smaller rural areas. Counts and countesses hold the fealty of one or two barons and a few powerful knights. Since they occupy a middle ground among the nobility, they often have a reputation for being schemers and plotters, ever envious of those above them and ready to manipulate those below them. Kings and queens usually keep a close watch on their counts and countesses. In wartime, these nobles act as subcommanders, regimental organizers and coordinators of rear-support activities. They do not normally take the battlefield themselves unless they are personally renowned as warriors.
  Counts and countesses are addressed as "Your Excellency." Counts are occasionally called earls, although women holding this title are still called countesses.
  County Treasures: Counts and countesses possess pennons that they use to identify their counties. Their rule is superseded only by dukes and kings. Counts also have potent hearths, and can demand tithes of dross from their vassals to help feed these hearths. Each count or countess carries a weapon used in service to her superiors.
  • Baron or Baroness — Barons and baronesses generally hold title to only a single freehold. Many barons resent their lords, consider the counts immediately above them as greedy, and covet their liege's greater power and lands. Barons and baronesses cling to power tenaciously. Since they are closer to their followers than many other nobles of higher rank, they usually enjoy the support of their vassals. Baronies usually include three or four knights who owe direct fealty to their lord. Some barons also host a number of knights-errant who hold no other loyalties.
  Barons and baronesses are addressed as "Lord" or "Lady."
  Baronial Treasures: Barons and baronesses have only their own hearths and their knightly weapons. They do have the right to gather Glamour within their fiefdoms, and may demand small tithes of dross from their knights.
  • Knight — Knighthood is both a title and a state of honor. Knights are the backbone of feudal society, serving their lords as warriors and couriers. Occasionally a knight also holds a small fiefdom directly from her baron. Nobles are usually knighted when they are acclaimed as members of the nobility. Knights without holdings are the lowest class of noble.
  Knights are addressed as "Sir" or "Lady" (though some female knights prefer the title "Dame").
  Knightly Treasures: A knight's weapon is the symbol of her honor, an extension of her personal will and protection. Legend holds that so long as a knight remains true to her lord, her sword will never break.
  • Squire — Squires are not nobles per se, but are personal servants to nobles (usually knights). Most are in training to become knights and thus enter the ranks of the nobility. Although some squires attain fame fighting at the sides of their masters, they generally remain out of combat, providing support for their knights by retrieving or replacing lost weapons and rounding up wayward chimera. A squire has no treasures, as such, but receives a small allowance of dross from his or her knightly patron.
  Squires have no formal term of address.

Retainers

  Nobles have a host of underlings, called retainers, who tend to their needs and perform vital services for them. Retainers are similar to vassals but are not part of the noble hierarchy. Many, in fact, are commoners who have given their loyalty and service to their lord in return for a comfortable position in her court. Retainers are usually paid in some fashion, either with small treasures or with promises and favors. Some commoners eagerly seek out positions as retainers in order to reap the benefits of association with noble society. Most motleys look down on these "sellouts," feeling that they have sacrificed their personal freedom for dubious gain.
  • Heralds — Heralds serve as messengers, diplomats and couriers to their lords. This gives them a certain amount of diplomatic immunity when interacting with the courts of other nobles, so long as they pay the proper respect to their superiors in status. Heralds often serve as spies, since their duties allow them to move about in various circles without arousing too much suspicion. Heralds often possess treasures from their lords that allow them to travel quickly from place to place. They are responsible for summoning up commoner levies when fiefdoms are endangered.
  • Seers — These skilled enchanters act as advisors to their lords. Their responsibilities include keeping watch for magical attacks on their lords and fiefdoms, conducting rituals (such as the Saining ceremony), and advising their lords on the use of lore and chimera. Seers' command of magic sometimes makes them distrusted, though most of them are scrupulously honest in their dealings.
  • Chancellors — Chancellors serve as their lords' right hands, governing their lieges' lands in their absence and helping protect the fiefdoms from attack. Their intimate knowledge of the workings of their masters' freeholds and lands usually earns them the trust and respect of their lords. Few chancellors abuse this confidence; in return, many receive almost as much honor as their masters.
  • Bards — Bards serve as a court's storytellers and lorekeepers. Their persons are considered sacred, and bad luck follows those who knowingly strike a bard or engage her in battle when she is unwilling. The words of bards are believed to be prophetic. Most bards refrain from speaking unless performing or specifically requested to contribute to a conversation, lest they unwittingly utter something that (by virtue of coming from a bard's lips) carries the force of prophecy. They are among the most respected retainers.
  • Jesters — Jesters entertain the nobility and usher in Glamour on certain festive occasions. They also act as the watchdogs of Banality. Jesters often point out the foibles and failings of nobles in ways that amuse rather than humiliate, thus providing a graceful means for a wayward noble to correct her behavior. Jesters have a duty to sniff out the mundane and destroy it before it poses a serious threat to a fiefdom. They employ both cantrips and treasures to fulfill this important task.
  • Troubadours — Troubadours are the musicians and performers of a noble's court. They also lead the court in the practice of courtly love, acting as chroniclers and go-betweens. Often troubadours are themselves involved in the amorous machinations of the nobles. They perform their own works, the ballads of the past and specially commissioned songs in honor of their patrons or a paramour.
  • Scribes — Scribes serve the vital function of transcribing not only court proceedings, but also of recording any memories members of the court may have of Arcadia or their past lives. This act is done in the old style, written on parchment and vellum with quill and ink in chimerical tomes bound in griffin or boar hide. Many scribes also illuminate their texts to create works of beauty and repositories for Glamour.
  • Stewards — Stewards are responsible for a fiefdom's resources, organizing and governing their lord's assets. They control household finances, disburse chimerical and "real" weapons and guard court treasures. Stewards also train and manage a household's servants.
  • Reeves — Reeves act as official liaisons between a noble and the commoners who dwell within that noble's fiefdom. They also fill the position of advocates for commoners, often appearing in court to press a commoner's claims or voice a complaint. Reeves take care of a noble's freeholds; courts usually have at least as many reeves as a noble has freeholds. Although they are merely caretakers, many reeves come to regard their particular freeholds as their personal property.
  • Thanes — Thanes are commoner warriors who have sworn loyalty to their lords. They are charged with hunting for Glamour for their masters. Some lords see the advantage of placing bands of thanes on the field of battle, since these warriors are often more effective in war than noble knights. Many thanes who organized the resistance during the Accordance War now serve the lords they once opposed. The nobility's acceptance of these rebel leaders helped smooth relations with the commoners. Often, a noble will find support among commoners in her realm so long as she treats her thanes with honor and respect.

The Escheat

  The traditions that make up the Escheat form the basic laws of Kithain society. Believed to have originated among those wise faeries who lived closest to the Dreaming, they were recorded after the Sundering as a way to ensure fae survival in the face of inexorable change. Passed down and enforced by the nobility, the Escheat's tenets are respected by both Seelie and Unseelie nobles (though each Court has variations on how it interprets each principle). Seelie nobles and their subjects generally follow the letter of the law, while Unseelie nobles and their minions tend to find the loopholes and work through them.
  Unlike oaths (see below), the authority to enforce the Escheat is not backed by Glamour. Instead, it carries the force of law, tradition and custom. Occasionally the Dreaming works its own chimerical subtleties around the Escheat, making certain that its rules are kept or forcing those who break it to reap the consequences of their actions.
  The six basic rights of the Escheat are detailed below.
  • The Right of Demesne — A lord is the king of his domain. He is the judge and jury over all crimes, large and small. His word is law. A noble expects obedience from his vassals and respect from all others. In return, a noble respects those lords superior to him.
  Reality: Nobility has had to make concessions in the face of modern ideas of democracy and popular rule. Most nobles rule through force, cunning, personal magnetism or custom.
  • The Right to Dream — Mortals have a right to dream unhindered by our needs. The Dreaming will die if we steal directly from the font. No one is allowed to use Glamour to manipulate the creative process. Although you may inspire creativity in the mortal mind, it is forbidden to give direct instruction or to infuse a human with raw Glamour.
  Reality: Most changelings interpret this as a prohibition against Ravaging — the forcible ripping of Glamour from beings. Many Kithain — particularly Unseelie — ignore this ban, seeking a quick fix or an easy way to instant power. Since this form of acquiring Glamour often permanently drains the victim, convicted Ravagers suffer harsh punishments as a deterrent to repeating their crime. Disturbing rumors claim that some changelings infuse mortals with Glamour, overloading the mortal souls with too much creativity and feeding from their brilliant dreams. This practice, if it exists, also violates this portion of the Escheat.
  • The Right of Ignorance — Do not betray the Dreaming to Banality. Never reveal yourself to humanity. Not only will humankind hunt us down for our wisdom and our power, it will overwhelm us with Banality and destroy our places of power. The more humanity knows, the more ardently it will seek us, draining the world of Glamour and petrifying our essence with its basilisk's gaze.
  Reality: Most changelings, both Seelie and Unseelie, respect this rule since it serves as protection against the forces of Banality. Glamour is hard enough to find, and expending it on mortals so that they can witness the Dreaming for themselves is wasteful. Some changelings enchant select humans in order to bring them into their freeholds as lovers or retainers, but they are careful to remove any evidence of their existence from the minds of these mortals when they return them to the mortal world.
  • The Right of Rescue — All Kithain have the right to expect rescue from the foul grip of Banality. We are in danger together and must strive together to survive. Never leave anyone behind. Kithain are required to rescue other faeries or any creature of the Dreaming trapped by those who serve Banality.
  Reality: Most changelings adhere to this principle. After all, they might need rescuing one day. Seelie and Unseelie will forget their differences and come to each other's aid when one or the other falls prey to the Dauntain or some other agent of Banality. While many changelings will try to rescue chimeric creatures such as unicorns or griffins, few risk themselves for minor chimera.
  • The Right of Safe Haven — All places of the Dreaming are sacred. Kithain cannot allow faerie places to be endangered. All those who seek refuge in such places must be admitted. Freeholds must be kept free of both Banality and worldly violence.
  Reality: Competition for the few freeholds that have survived the Shattering makes this tenet a hard one to enforce. Rival claims to the same spot of dream-infused ground often lead to warfare that encroaches upon its boundaries, although in most cases combat on the actual grounds of a freehold is restricted to chimeric battle. Some lords bar their freeholds to outsider changelings for fear that unwanted visitors may waste the Glamour inherent in their holdings. Despite the demands of hospitality and courtesy upon the domains of nobles, commoner freeholds are often more inclined than their noble counterparts to admit changelings seeking refuge.
  • The Right of Life — No Kithain shall spill the lifeblood of another Kithain. No Kithain shall bring salt tears unto the earth. No Kithain shall take from the Dreaming one of its own. Death is anathema.
  Reality: This tenet is almost universally upheld, particularly since the Dreaming itself seems to enforce it by inflicting Banality upon a changeling who takes another changeling's life. When two Kithain meet in combat, they usually wield chimerical weapons, although there are exceptions to this (such as nonlethal duels to first blood). No "real" damage is caused by such a chimerical battle. The loser, if "killed," merely dies temporarily to the Dreaming and returns to her mortal seeming until reawakened by an infusion of Glamour.

Customs and Traditions

  Over the centuries, Kithain society has developed a number of customs, some borrowed from human cultures and others unique to the fae. These traditions define and lend color to the lives of changelings.

Oaths

  Oaths are sacred vows that bind Kithain to one another in certain specified relationships or else obligate the swearer to undertake quests or journeys, fill certain roles, honor specified rights or refrain from certain actions. Some oaths bind one Kithain to another for eternity; others last for shorter periods of time. Many oaths, particularly those taken at Beltaine and Samhain, are sworn for "a year and a day." The whole of Kithain society helps to enforce oaths, but, more importantly, the weight of the Dreaming lends binding authority to these solemn vows.
  The wording of oaths is very important, because it weaves Glamour into the bond that is formed by its speaking. Breaking an oath is not done lightly, for the consequences (usually specified at the time the oath is taken) assert themselves as soon as the oath is forsworn. In addition to any innate penalties, oathbreakers are shunned by Seelie and most Unseelie fae alike.
  A changeling's sworn word is her greatest gift, and those fortunate enough to receive an oath-backed promise of loyalty or love consider themselves blessed by the Dreaming. Oaths define a changeling's personal honor and respect. Spoken oaths are the foundation of noble society, and any who break an oath defy the values of their society and forego their right to remain a part of it.

Courtly Love

  The rituals of courtly love occupy a large part of nobles' attention and sometimes form the major part of relations within a noble court. The artistry and pageantry of ritualized courtship lends itself to the fae sense of intrigue and love of romance. Whether as participants or spectators, most members of a court relish taking part in the subtleties of courtly love.
  Romance among the Kithain embodies a rarefied and elegant dance of skill and seduction, appreciated as much for its form as for its content. Both males and females recognize its usefulness in manipulating others to do their will, and take every advantage to prove their prowess in affairs of the heart.
  Courtly love expresses itself as an elaborate duet between the "ardent suitor" and the "bashful beloved." In the past, when mortals practiced this formal expression of desire, the suitor was usually male and the beloved female. The more liberal Kithain make no such demands on the gender of the participants. A very strict protocol oversees all the steps of courtly love, from the suitor's declaration of intent to the pursuit of the beloved, all the way to the usual polite but firm rejection and the period of intense mourning for lost love — a time which presages the beginning of the cycle once more. At every stage in the process, troubadours hover in the wings (if not on center stage), ready to serenade the beloved in private or proclaim the worthiness of the suitor before the audience of the assembled court.
  The courting process consists of stylized flirtation. It is customary for the beloved to alternately accept and reject the suitor's favors, refining the art of teasing and encouragement to a high level. The suitor has no rights except those granted by the beloved, and is expected to prove her ardor at every possible opportunity. Love poems and songs, heroic deeds and interminable patience in wait for a smile or a kind word are all necessary steps of the lover's journey. Love that comes without a steep price, or that announces itself clumsily and without grace, is not worth having.
  Courting usually takes place in secret, but sometimes it becomes a miniature drama, staged for all to see. Initially, the beloved should reject the suitor, citing political or personal differences as the reason. It then falls to the suitor to cajole, convince, woo or win a reversal of the beloved's decision.
  If the process succeeds in evoking the full passion of amour (though not necessarily sexual congress) between suitor and beloved, the two swear oaths of love to one another. Until this bond is broken, lover and beloved remain inextricably joined in spirit to one another. Only Banality can separate them. Lovers assist each other regardless of personal risk, differences in Court or conflicting loyalties. In some cases, one lover will sacrifice herself for the other.

Patronage

  Changelings often tend to focus their Glamour-gathering activities around certain arts that appeal to them. The art a changeling selects for this purpose is known as her patronage. Although childlings and wilders sometimes change their patronages from one art to another, grumps usually settle upon a single art and stick to it. Wilders tend to choose experimental arts to patronize; childlings prefer more direct and simple ones; grumps opt for more sophisticated or traditional arts.
  Most Kithain indulge in their patronages at every opportunity, visiting places significant to their particular art or arts and collecting people who are practitioners of their patronages. The acquisition of items and people acts as a source of rivalry between changelings, allowing patrons of the same art to indulge in friendly competition to the benefit (usually) of their chosen art.

Cliques

  Kithain often form groups known as cliques to share their patronage with others of like mind, increasing its enjoyment. Through patronage, Kithain inspire mortals to dream, and thus add to the supply of Glamour in the world. Therefore, patronage not only provides a pleasant pastime, it also makes a vital contribution to the Dreaming. Most changeling cliques know this, although they do not let the importance of their task get in the way of having a good time.
  Cliques associated with traditional or medieval arts call themselves noble patronages, while those dedicated to modern or experimental arts are referred to as vulgar patronages. Both noble and vulgar cliques often give themselves formal or whimsical names, depending on the nature of the arts they patronize. Noble cliques include the Galateans, who patronize the visual arts of painting and sculpture; the Calliopians, who revere both the written and spoken word; the Terpsichoreans, who favor dance over other arts; and the Olympians, who admire athletes and bodybuilders. Vulgar cliques include the Groupies, who patronize rock and roll; the Anachronists, who prefer the ancient crafts of the common folk; the Zoetrope Society, which consists of film aficionados; the Mad Hatters, who find inspiration among the insane; the Daydreamers (a childling clique), who encourage the natural Glamour of human children; and the Hackers, who promote Glamour via the Information Superhighway.

The Importance of Holidays

  Holidays and festivals occupy a central part of changeling life. These periods of celebration not only serve as times when mortals edge marginally closer to the Dreaming, they provide the Kithain with the opportunity to remember the traditions these holidays honor, thus bringing them in touch with their lost past.
  Kithain use holidays as excuses to expend Glamour, putting it back into a world leeched of its revitalizing energy. In addition, they are often occasions when changelings and mortals may interact without fear of attracting too much Banality. During holidays, Banality and disbelief are at their ebb, since most celebrations have an innately supernatural aspect to them that defies reason. Children who believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are often joined at Christmas and Easter by adults who act as if they, too, believe in these symbols of gifts and replenishment. Humans, for these brief periods of revelry and celebration, allow themselves to experience the fires of their imaginations. Some changelings maintain that if everyday could be a holiday, mortals would slough off their cares and rationalizations and dream freely once again.
  The changeling calendar consists of many festivals, which are often used, as they were in medieval times, to keep track of the passing of the year. Before the Shattering, the calendar marked the cycle of Seelie and Unseelie rule. Since the Resurgence, many of the old traditions have fallen by the wayside, but the forms remain constant as the dance of days continues its stately progress through the seasons. New holidays have risen up to take the place of old ones, but the procession of festivities goes on.

Changeling Festivals

  During certain times of the year, those of the major festivals, all Kithain come together to celebrate the Dreaming. The following celebrations are held in common by both Seelie and Unseelie changelings, and constitute the major holidays of Kithain life.
  • Imbolc, February 2nd — The balefire is the most important feature of a freehold, keeping out the cold wind of Banality and preserving the Glamour that maintains the freehold. Imbolc is a festival celebrating the balefire and its replenishment after the long darkness of winter. Also known as Bard's Day, Imbolc marks great competitions among bards and other performers. Originally sacred to the Celtic goddess Brigid, patroness of fire, smithcraft and poetry, Imbolc honors the creative spirit.
  On Midwinter's Night, special travelers, called firebrands, set out from Tara-Nar, carrying lanterns that contain fire from the Well of Flame beneath High King David's palace. The lanterns are used to replenish the balefire of every freehold during the Imbolc ceremony. It is considered a bad omen if the firebrands fail to make their appearance at a freehold before Imbolc.
  • Carnival, February 28th — Formerly a wake for an old age and a birthday party for a new one, Carnival has risen in prominence since High King David assumed the throne. Now it celebrates the new unity between nobles and commoners. It is a night when kings and queens enchant entire cities, enabling the wholesale gathering of Glamour. Masked by the human Mardi Gras festivities, Carnival celebrations mark some of the Kithain's wildest parties.
  Borrowing from such diverse sources as English Boxing Day and the ancient festival of Lughnasa, the ritual central to Carnival involves the elevation of a local mortal, befuddled by alcohol or dizzy with an overdose of Glamour, to the position of King or Queen of Carnival, while the local monarch takes the part of a jester. The new "monarch's" word is considered law, although in most cases, the chosen mortal is too addled by the effects of substance abuse to issue any commands which might have lasting repercussions. The "jester," on the other hand, is open to all the abuse of his or her new position. Some kings and queens dread the approach of Carnival, but put up with it as part of their duty as rulers.
  There are only three laws of Carnival:
  • There can be no retribution for any word spoken or deed done. A monarch cannot exact revenge against harassers.
  • Carnival is sacrosanct; all who attend are welcome and safe. Anyone violating this principal is summarily subjected to any punishment decreed by the bleary-eyed Carnival King or Queen.
  • Let merriment reign!
  Carnival ends at sunrise on the following day. In most cases, the Carnival King or Queen is released from duty and sent home, none the worse for wear. In certain Unseelie demesnes, it is rumored, the mortal becomes a ritual sacrifice.
  • The Greening, April 4th — Commonly celebrated in southern Concordia, the Greening is an informal festival commemorating the beginning of spring. It is also called the Festival of Crocuses, as celebrants weave these early spring flowers into their hair and clothes. Each childling receives a crown of woven grass, and wilders participate in morris dancing. It does not bode well for the coming year if no grass can be found for weaving into crowns.
  • Beltaine, May 2nd — One of the two major festivals of the changeling calendar, Beltaine is a nighttime spring fertility festival which celebrates life and love. At one time, fae went out into the fields and formed tame chimerical beasts into a line between bonfires lit from the local freehold's balefire.
  Beltaine once marked the formal beginning of the Seelie half of the year, during which time the Unseelie surrendered its power to the opposite Court. As such, Beltaine traditionally represents a time of peace and amity. The infamous Night of Iron Knives stands as a notable instance of the gross abuse of the Beltaine peace.
  Beltaine also sees the blossoming of new romances, particularly between nobles and commoners. The bonfires serve as festival sites where passions run uninhibited. Many childlings are conceived during Beltaine celebrations; conception at Beltaine is considered particularly favorable, since the feast honors fertility and new life.
  • Highsummer Night, July 17th — Staged to coincide with the hottest part of the summer, Highsummer Night epitomizes mirth and freedom. It also provides an excuse to gather Glamour from the "heat dreams" of mortals. During these celebrations, changelings are free to toy with any mortals they encounter.
  Pooka consider this festival their special holiday and refer to it as "Pranksgiving." They hold a competition among themselves to see who can play the most outrageous practical joke on a human. The winner gains tremendous prestige. Highsummer pranks sometimes turn malicious, even though jests which result in loss of life or serious injury are regarded as inartistic and tasteless. Tangled romances, mistaken identities, transformations and thefts of heroic proportions have greater appeal for pooka.
  Many Kithain weddings take place on Highsummer Night, though not so many as at Beltaine.
  • Pennons, October 4th — Pennons celebrates the martial prowess of the Kithain, Its festivities include jousts, mock combats, displays of weaponry and the slaying of chimerical beasts. The name of the festival derives from the custom of bestowing a king's pennons — flags marked with royal crests — upon the festival's champions, who have the right to fly them for one year.
  Artists, crafters and musicians also flock to Pennons, many seeking patronage from lords, who are likely to be generous on this festive occasion. Musicians find Pennons particularly rewarding. Troubadours compose songs on the spur of the moment celebrating the heroes of the various events, and stage their own competitions, along with storytellers, using words and music as weapons.
  • Samhain, October 31st — A counterpart to Beltaine, Samhain is the second of the two major Kithain festivals. On Samhain Eve, the wall between worlds grows thin. This is a solemn time for Kithain everywhere. It is a night to strain against the Mists, to part them and remember comrades who have fallen. It is a night to honor ancestors who have been lost as well as mortal companions who have contributed Glamour through their creations and deeds.
  Samhain also serves as a time for divination. In some courts, soothsayers perform auguries to learn the fate of lost friends and to divine messages about the coming year.
  Before the Shattering, Samhain marked the beginning of the Unseelie half of the year, when the Seelie rulers turned over their authority to their opposites until Beltaine. Now that transference of power resides only in the form of the Shadow Court's one-night reign. Samhain provides a chance for the Unseelie fae to deride everything they despise about Seelie society. Unseelie changelings hold mock tournaments and courts, making fun of the monarchy and privy council. Seelie changelings are encouraged to adopt their Unseelie personas for this one evening and experience the other side of their fae natures.
  Childlings often join with human children in trick-or-treating their way through neighborhoods, gathering Glamour from the real and imagined spookiness of the night and the enjoyment of their mortal companions.
  In addition to the calendar festivals, Kithain also celebrate other special occasions. The Royal Lottery occurs whenever a monarch steps down, falls victim to Banality or dies a natural death, thus occasioning the choice of a successor. During this celebration, changelings come from far and wide to hear the dukes and duchesses proclaim candidates for the vacancy before the casting of lots by the nobility to choose who will rule. These events usually take place in the monarchs' glens.
  Weddings between Kithain give rise to great festivities. While some Kithain marry for life, others marry for a lunar year (13 full moons) or a year and a day. These marriages celebrate life and love in the same way that the Beltaine and Highsummer ceremonies do.
  A wake occurs upon the death of a Kithain. When a common changeling dies, her spirit is lost to the Dreaming for a time before reincarnating in a new mortal body. Only the sidhe do not return in this fashion; some believe that a sidhe's spirit is lost forever, while others hold that a deceased sidhe is reborn as a commoner. Wakes are crucial whenever a changeling dies from Banality or from cold iron. The loss must be addressed in some fashion to prevent Banality from gaining a stranglehold on all who knew the lost Kithain. Wakes are blatant denials of Banality, combining joy and sorrow in a tribute to the lost spirit. All distinctions between Seelie and Unseelie are put aside during wakes, as each Kithain remembers the deceased and strives to keep some part other alive in the Dreaming. Unfortunately many sidhe refuse to attend wakes; they dislike being reminded of their own eventual death and the uncertainty that follows.
  Oathtakings also provide an opportunity for Kithain to gather together, usually in small, private ceremonies. It is considered an honor to receive an invitation to a formal swearing of an oath and to act as a witness to the solemn pronouncement of a binding vow. The most common oaths that are celebrated in this fashion include oaths of fealty, questing and true love.