The history of the Inanimae, the Sessile Ones as my mentor rather inaccurately calls them, is at once fascinating and frustrating. Like the history of any lost race, it is fragmentary at best, often indirect and secondhand. You ask why I am endowed with so much knowledge — or at least hearsay — of these creatures! The stories would be enough to fill a sennight's worth of quiet winter evenings. But that's not what you traveled so far to hear. Suffice to say that, in the days when we were yet welcome in this land, I made the study of these beings my — hobby is too dull a word — my passion. I learned many of their secrets, endured countless trials and after a thousand summers, I well knew their worth. Upon my return, the passion was strong enough to burn away at the Mists, so that a glimmer illuminated my waking mind. Once I knew where to look, I began to unravel the old secrets. This information is the product of years of reading old tomes, befriending the newly awakened Inanimae and hearing the rare whisper of forgotten lore from the deep recesses of my soul. This information is not common as Fiona's court gossip, and you, gentle readers, should be respectful. So, with that said, read on….

The Mythic Age

I am the wind that breathes upon the sea, I am the wave on the ocean… I can shift my shape like a god.
— The Black Book of Caermarthen

In the days when dreams and reality were one and the same, forms were fluid. Fae spirits were as diverse as dreams themselves. In ancient times, we could become anything — or nothing — at a whim. Life could be created from mere thought, or more accurately, one kind of life could be created from something else.

But time passed, and I suppose the fact that we noticed its passing should have been a warning. Certainly, nature turned in its great cycles, night to day, winter to autumn, but all change was limited to those most basic transformations.

When the world progressed beyond these turnings, the changes began. The fae cared little at first, scarcely noticing until hovels begat villages and villages begat cities. Suddenly, the Sundering was upon us. The Dreaming and the mortal realm drifted apart as gradually, and yet, as inevitably as the continents. Choices were forced upon the free spirits who remained — some bound themselves to almost-human forms, becoming the faeries of mortal myth; others chose treasures of nature in which to rest and take refuge, becoming what we call Inanimae. The Inanimae, though fixed in shape, were of a limitless variety. The countless phyla formed great groups known as the Slow Empires. These empires were much too complex, too vast, too utterly alien in scope to be truly understood by the Kithain, let alone mortals. Yet it's the great puzzle of it all that makes it so appealing to me. Perhaps they were like us in some ways and had their own courts, festivals and ceremonies. I believe it likely that life in the Slow Empires was more primeval than we can imagine. Those Inanimae were inexorably tied to the great cycles and perhaps their goals were to find ways to forestall any changes that would threaten those ties.

The Nature of the Inanimae

Being capricious creatures and not without a sense of humor, faerie spirits have the potential to inhabit absolutely anything, and often did before the Shattering wrenched the worlds apart. Rocks, dolls, hidden waterfalls, swords, armor, giraffes, philodendrons, verdigris-encrusted statues— the fancy of the Dreaming is literally limitless in its hunger for form, and extends far beyond mere human children.

Everything in the world was born with the capacity to be Dreamed somewhere deep within itself, so everything possesses — or possessed — the potential to be alive. Although the world has changed since its beginning and many parts of it have forgotten how to dream, some fugitive elements still remember. These vessels of the Dreaming endure in the hidden corners and secret enclaves of the world, remembering as best they know how, the lost days when every waterfall could talk and every tool was alive.

They are the Inanimae, the last children of the Great Slow Empires that now sprawl across the Earth in mute, immobile ruins. Even to most of the changelings, they are a myth too fantastic to have survived.

The Gallain

After the Sundering

Mortals, as a rule, are dull-witted and blind to what they do not wish to see. But in olden days, the Dreaming was not so distant, and the mundane world was not the crushing force it is today. Even after the Sundering, the beings we know as chimera were as real to mortals as they were to us. In those times, we assumed human guise only for sport and amusement; should we let that illusion of flesh fall, humans would be struck dumb by our terrible beauty, though we would not suffer from their yet-tenuous Banality.

Though the Inanimae generally concealed themselves, humans could sense them. Some of the Sessile Ones became divine beings in the eyes of the mortals who dwelt near Anchors. While some Inanimae were indifferent, others enjoyed the inexplicable but amusing gyrations their "followers" went through in attempts to please and appease. A few of these fairies willingly took on the expected role, either out of altruism or gratitude — after all, a sacred grove would never be felled, and the occasional minor miracle kept the mortals completely faithful. It is rumored that many of the megalithic circles found across Europe were built at the suggestion (or perhaps command) of some of the earliest Krofted members of the Empire of Stone. Some of my dimmest recollections lead me to believe that, whatever else it may have meant to willworkers, shapeshifters, Kithain or mortals, Stonehenge was one of the first great Krofted Anchors.

Mortals were not the only ones misled. Some Inanimae gained great amusement at being mistaken for the bodiless spirits worshipped by the willworkers and the shapeshifters. This still happens today; I know of a young Fianna who, in wolf and human form, cajoled a dryad for several hours, calling her a "glade child" and begged her to bestow a gift of some sort. She finally gave him the only thing she had to bestow. The young werewolf didn't learn how to move trees as he wished, but he did become the most — ah — fertile of his tribe. Though the Sundering had separated Sessile from the rest of the fae, some connections between the two survived.

Occasional alliances and the not-infrequent disputes between fae and Inanimae were the basis of any number of meetings. Some of the greatest questers of my house journeyed deep into the realms of the Depthless, the High Ones, the Granite Lords and even the Lords of Fire in their hunt for wisdom. The searchers who returned (and few they were) were revered among our people; even today, in the autumn of our world, we remember the springtime deeds of Kyria, Elbanaon, and Tyrissa and the hero Capriana, my one-time mentor and companion to Eiluned herself. Ever in love with the tang of sea air was Capriana, and only on a rolling deck was she able to find sleep's peace. She was among the first of our kind to venture into the depths to face the limitless majesty of the Depthless Ones and the very first to return with her sanity intact.

The Inanimae played their part in history and song, though the legends have been warped and changed so that the truth is too deeply buried to ever resurface. For example, who do you think guarded the sword Excaliber when Arthur was only a pup? What was the stone that held the sword so safely? Who was the Lady of the Lake? So many threads of Inanimae legends dangle just under our noses.

The War of Making

In the age after the Sundering, the War of Making was felt by all the Slow Empires. Its seeds, however, lay in the solimonds' betrayal, deeply sown before the Sundering. This was when fae of flame taught mortals how to control flame and thereby control the other Inanimae. Wood burns, water boils and metals melt and can be reshaped, allowing mortals to shape stone or wood. At first, mortals used this knowledge wisely. Then, as time passed, they began to wield this power more ruthlessly, using their newfound knowledge to enslave the other Inanimae. This is basis for the war: The Inanimae whose Anchor is in a natural state (a granite outcrop, for example) has a completely different temperament than one with an Anchor that's been shaped or changed by another's hands (a stone block in the wall of a cathedral). It's not unlike the differences between the Courts of Kithain society, I suppose.

The battle for supremacy continues to this day, and it appears that the Krofted Inanimae have the upper hand. A few parosemes have confided to me that the numerous defeats of the Making War were largely responsible for the Shattering itself.

The Making War

The Making War is, perhaps, the most defining event in Inanimae history, and its ramifications are still being felt to this day. When the solimonds chose to grant the knowledge of making to the humans, they began a process that transformed the empires and determined how they would survive the coming Winter.

The war started when the emperor of the solimonds called his people together. He explained that the beings that had made them adopt the Codex and join with their Anchors had begun to change the face of the world. He told his people to go forth and help these humans make the world, and so the solimonds would continue to evolve and remain powerful, learning new wisdom, and new ideas.

This lofty goal went wrong once the knowledge granted by the solimonds began to spread. Emissaries arrived from the other empires, asking what was happening, many of their members were changing beyond recognition, eschewing the old ways and becoming active and dynamic, like the fae who call themselves Kithain.

The flashpoint that touched off the war came with the arrival of the first mannikin. Anchored in an ancient idol, this human-like creature presented himself at the concord of all five Imperial leaders. Dressed all in black, he pronounced that the Inanimae would forever be split, and that the clouds of war was gathering. After this creature had departed, the marshal of the glomes demanded an explanation for the transformation of some of his soldiers. The emperor of the solimonds attempted to explain his views, and how his people felt that the Inanimae had to change or be Undone like the Tuatha de Danaan. His pleas fell on deaf ears, and the four other empires declared a united front against the solimonds.

The war was bloody and fierce. To help defend themselves, the solimonds conscripted many of the newly Krofted Inanimae to their side, for they understood the solimond point of view.

Finally, just weeks before the Shattering, the gladeling forces smashed the solimond homeland, occupying it. The solimonds were scattered to the four winds, vowing to return. The gladelings, whose numbers had hemorrhaged, claimed victory, although they were now barely the majority. And then the Shattering struck.

Five hundred years later, Anchors began to awaken, the sidhe were still 100 years away from returning, but the static ones began to stir. Although they were not as numerous as they are becoming in this Indian Summer, the Inanimae who did awaken discovered a shocking fact: Krofted fae outnumbered gladelings two to one.

Now this gap is widening further as the Resurgence awakens many slumbering fae. The gladeling lords look about and see the future belonging to the Krofted. The solimonds have had to wait 600 years, but their vindication is in sight.

The Shattering

And this is the new world formed by Law.
— Michael Moorcock, Stormbringer

The Shattering was devastating to our kind, but in a way it was worse for the Inanimae. For the Kithain, the storm came upon us in only a handful of years, but the Sessiles felt the chill of Winter decades before us. They tried to warn us of what was coming, but fools that we were, we didn't listen. As more and more dryads sank into Slumber, as the wavedancers vanished like seafoam on the wind, we muttered about the dark portents, yet still did nothing. The true depth of our peril eluded us until the trods themselves began to collapse. When the nobility took the long road to Arcadia, did the Inanimae try to follow? I do not think so, for though they may leave the mortal realm as we can, the Sessile Ones are psychologically and spiritually bound to their Anchors. I say this because I have observed dryads who, in the middle of a forest, refused to leave their own special groves They, instead watched until fire or ax had done its fatal work.

No, I believe most stayed with their Anchors until Slumber overtook them. A newly awakened glome told me a story that has been repeated, with minor variations, by all too many. This glome's Anchor was on a hilltop surmounted by a castle freehold. For a short while after the last of the trods collapsed, a small band of commoners clustered around the hill like beggars huddled together for warmth. They did their best to protect and encourage the glome, and he likewise protected them. But as the freehold's balefire burned low and died away, their bonding weakened. The commoners scattered like rats from a sinking ship, and the lonely glome slipped into Slumber.

The Interregnum

When it comes to history during the Kingless Times, I'm at a distinct disadvantage as you no doubt can guess. My sources, while never effusive, positively dry up when asked about those dark times. The satyr chronicler Malachi says that all the Sessile Ones slipped into Slumber. Sad to say, many of these beings sank beyond Slumber and are forever lost to our world. Oh, I suppose some woke now and again — they've never told me otherwise — but it's safe to say that during this period, the Inanimae had little interaction with those fae left behind. It appears that after a couple of centuries of darkness, the commoners had largely forgotten about the Sessile Ones. Interestingly enough, what information comes to me from that period was told by a Namer, or will worker, as they seem to prefer. She called herself Vashtye and was quite knowledgeable in the old lore of the fae. A few of the Namers, especially those of the societies of Merinita and Verbena, remembered and protected Anchors as best they could; this was despite being hunted themselves. Yes, those were dark times when Banality rode on a black horse of iron and steam, seeking to silence our kind forever.

In spite of help from their allies, the Industrial Revolution exacted a heavy toll on the Inanimae. The sacred trees were cleared, feeding the factories that belched their filth into the sky, which in turn rained poison onto the earth. From mines and cities ran poisonous effluent. Having lost their Anchors, far too many of these bound fae returned to rhe depths of the Dreaming or wherever such spirits go and were lost to the waking world forever. Many Anchors of the Glade were Krofted during this time; it could be said that the greatest blows of the Making War were struck without any activity on the combatants' part.

The Resurgence

The Resurgence made itself known to those who Dreamt in their Slumbers. Several commoners have told me of odd tremors near the groves, of whirlpools and whirlwinds that erupted on clear days, buffeting them but otherwise doing no harm. Less dramatic but no less wondrous is the story Malachi told about the first Inanimae he ever saw, back when he was just a kid (in both senses). It was on the night before the moon landing that heralded the Resurgence. He lay on a grassy hilltop, contemplating the wondrously tiny ship that would circle the lunar sphere when he heard a low, deep rumble. A large stone beside him had acquired the crudest semblance of a face, a visage that continued to form and refine with crackles and pops. Then it spoke, its voice as slow and low as a tectonic shift, and all the young satyr could make out were two words: "They come." And the following day, we did.

The Accordance War

It's safe to say that Inanimaicaid did not decide the course of the Reassertion (known popularly as the Accordance War); few were awake at that point, and only a fraction of those were inclined to get involved. This is probably why the majority of Kithain think the Inanimae are still lost in slumber.

The first into the fray were the fiery solimonds. When the war began in earnest, a handful of these creatures became rallying points, bolstering the spirits of the beleaguered troops, sometimes leading charges armed with banner or sword. Lady Tessa Nyrian, a dear friend of mine, will readily attest to the power these noble soldiers had for morale. With cheers and songs of encouragement, a solimond rallied a routed band of rebels, acting as rearguard for their retreating companions. These valiant warriors stalled repeated assaults by a larger and better-armed force of sidhe knights. Tessa admitted with some admiration that the commoners held that bridge to the last man. These brave, bright warriors made conspicuous targets, however, and by the close of the war, the armies had to soldier on without their support.

If the solimonds were the first to take up arms, the glomes were among the last; they readily honored pacts made a millennium ago, but their definition of "readily" meant the war was almost won before the Heavy People got involved. Lady Nyrian claims to have seen such a creature aiding young David Ardry's escape from New York City. She saw the pasty gray man with chiseled features supporting a barricade despite four fae sorcerers throwing their Primal might against it. It is possible that Ardry found Caliburn in a glome's keeping, the high king has never offered an explanation within earshot.

I don't know for certain if any kuberas took part in the conflict. I did hear a rumor that a now-Slumbering dryad engaged in weapon smuggling, but the truth of the matter hasn't been proven to my satisfaction. As Inanimae go, parosemes were common participants in the war, mostly as scouts and messengers. The Kithain who fought beside them learned caution, however, for the silfar had a habit of trading sides without warning or simply disappearing in the middle of a scouting mission. I had both the fortune and misfortune to work with ("command" isn't an appropriate term) the flighty creatures on the Shennandoah campaign, and the intelligence they delivered was only barely worth the aggravation they caused.

The mannikins were easier to deal with, making excellent spies and guards. Foes discussing their plans in the alleyway wouldn't look twice at the shop dummy lying by the dumpster beside them. Unfortunately, most of those who chose sides chose the wrong one. Not that I hold grudges, of course. As one may guess, ondines made poor soldiers when out of their element. What may surprise you is that the mer folk were seldom useful even in their natural environment. As scouts, their range is limited compared to the silfar, and their reports were as accurate as any pooka's — which you can puzzle out for yourself. In the cities where the more important campaigns were waged, the waters were generally too filthy for the mer folk to tolerate.

In all fairness, there were a few occasions where ondines were of service. Aubrick Hammerhand, a troll of my acquaintance, swears that he received a mortal wound during a bridge battle (and I concur, since it was I who dealt it) and tumbled into the river below. As the waters closed over him, Aubrick was amazed to feel comforting arms enfold him and soothing voices singing away the agony in his chest. Still more amazed were his companions when he was pulled from the placid water, weak but alive, the killing wound already closed and healing.

Though I can't prove it, I suspect the waterfolk were responsible for preventing needless bloodshed a time or three. During the Key Harbor Skirmish, in the bitter days following what the commoners called the Night of the Iron Knives, a battered company of sidhe found themselves trapped on a fishing boat, facing a large mob of commoners bent on avenging their fallen leaders. Just before the rebels set fire to the boat, as the valiant knights prepared to leap onto the wall of rebel steel, a peace descended upon the scene. The fires of battle madness and hate went out of the warriors' eyes. After a few moments, a troll commander ordered his boggan medics to begin binding the wounded of their foes, and the knights offered an honorable surrender. I have spoken with veterans on both sides of the skirmish and have no doubt that this minor miracle occurred. As yet, no one has claimed responsibility, not even the ondines, but it seems very much in their nature to try such a stunt. It is my conclusion that the ondines were more interested in patching up a dispute they couldn't really comprehend than promoting a given side. Ondines, you see, are terminally nostalgic creatures and wish nothing more than a return ro the "good old days" where Kithain and Empire were all one big happy family. Such a time may never have existed, bur if the delusion made the rebellion less bitter, then it served a purpose.

You may well ask to whom did the Inanimae give their allegiance. In fact, both noble and commoner had members of the Sessile Ones among their ranks. Those of the nobility, whose minds weren't completely muffled by the Mists, had an advantage over the Earthbound commoners. We could recognize the Sessiles for what they were, and we remembered enough of the ancient pacts of alliance to sway them to our cause. As for the rebels, they had their own advantages, born of luck more than knowledge. During the Interregnum, many of the common folk had protected the sacred groves, the springs and the crags; though this was done out of sentimentality rather than foreknowledge or cunning, the true owners of those Anchors were grateful nonetheless.


In the decades since the end of the rebellion, the Sessile Ones have become increasingly plentiful, yet hidden from the Kithain. It is due to the Inanimae reluctance (or indifference) to get involved in changeling society that makes them largely unknown to the Kithain. In the past couple years, however, I've noticed a change. The Sessile Ones are being seen — letting themselves be seen, I should say—by more and more changelings and even a few mortals. Whether this move comes from individual decisions or a collective choice spanning empires of phyla, I don't yet know. But you can rest assured, I intend to find out.

Inanimaic Empires

The distinction between human beings and inanimate objects does not need to be spelled out to sensible people or other folk who are resistant to enchantment. Inanimate objects — like trees, rocks or furniture — are incapable of life or any of the symptoms thereof.

According to conventional wisdom, inanimate objects do not move of their own volition and they, in fact, do not move at all, except when pushed along by an external force. When trees sway, it is because the wind is blowing against them. When the wind blows or flames dance, it is because air flows from hot places to cold places. When rivers flow toward seas, or books fall out of shelves, it is because they are in the thrall of gravity. Unless acted upon by an outside force, the non-living world is frozen in place, inert.

Inanimate objects, in fact, have no volition at all in the sensible universe. Things do not "want" anything, nor strive toward any goals or ambitions. They do not dream or speak or think; they only exist as things to be utilized or manipulated by human beings.

Of course, this definition is complicated by the fact that changelings are not sensible people, but are, in fact, the exact opposite. After all, they have good reason not to trust conventional wisdom — doesn't conventional common sense also say that there are no such things as faeries?

Rather, changelings move through a world where the distinction between living beings and inanimate objects blurs to the point of breaking down. Chimerical reality is a perpetual riot of movement, song and activity, where even the most inconsequential or trivial bits of dream-stuff can gain and lose the appearance of intelligence from moment to moment. Many a changeling has worried that she was slipping into Bedlam the first time she heard the cakes in a bakery start singing as she walked by, or when she saw books on a library shelf grow arms and start dancing the fox-trot.

Chimera, however, are notoriously unstable, lapsing in and out of existence as readily as a changeling can open and close his eyes. This is especially true of intelligent, free chimera — although it is an open question whether imaginary creatures are created spontaneously by the Dreaming or simply migrate along secret routes behind the mind's eye, giving the appearance of popping in and out of existence.

Within the chimerical world, common objects can and often do mutate into beings of fantastic mobility, sprouting arms, legs and faces in order to carry out their own vague urges. Most are unencumbered by minds as humans would define them — instead, these little chimera (also called "wonders" or "edible people") operate according to a limited number of impulses, few of which make much sense to larger folk. How these impulses evolve or why a particular ephemeral chimera will exhibit a certain behavior remain a mystery to all but the Si'ochain, who have not been asked.

The common explanation is simply that chimera, like the dreams of sleep, emerge from the Dreaming to express something previously hidden that has some kind of connection to the Dreamer. Changelings make chimera in their own faerie images, at least to some extent. If a chimera is gluttonous and whines constantly for food, it is likely that its dreamer craves food — or something like it — to an equivalent extent, or else carefully avoids eating. Often, the mentalities of the ephemera serve as counterpoints to the personalities of their changeling creators, or they reveal clues to their characters' hidden facets. Bans and geasa, in particular, often resurge in the otherwise mindless chatter of ephemera, as the Dreaming labors to fill all absences within its body.

Only a minority of chimera possess any real understanding of death or any drive toward self-preservation. They are, on the whole, fragile creatures. Any attempt to teach them about Undoing tends to cause them to hide deeper in the fabric of the Dreaming, or else they dissolve in a fit of confusion if no avenue for escape presents itself. Otherwise, the ephemera slip in and out of the Dreaming without warning and, often, without any awareness or fear of what is going on.

Those embodied spirits with the will — or simply whim — to hold onto their forms for extended periods have a different, more complicated story to tell. They grow attached to their material shells, trapped in form by their own fascination with earthly existence. No longer willing to slip into the Dreaming, these fae struggle to keep their borrowed eyes open, to stay in the waking world for as long as they possibly can.

Thus, are new Inanimae born into the world.


When an Inanimae awakens from his Long Slumber, he wonders at the changes in his environment. There are changes in the Dreaming. The mundane world and even his Anchor may have been Krofted, changing his very being. Thousands of Inanimae still slumber within their Anchors, awaiting a catalyst to return them to the waking world.

The most common catalyst is a surge of Glamour near an Anchor. For example, changelings undergoing the Chrysalis nearby could possibly awaken a Slumbering Inanimae. Sometimes if a new freehold is established near an Anchor, the balefire will awaken a slumbering Sessile. Certain cantrips can awaken Inanimae as well. A sorcerer skilled in the Art of Primal can sometimes coax forth a slumbering Inanimae, though the exact means of doing so have been lost in the Mists.

As the Inanimae wakes, the first thing to be done is a spring cleaning of sorts. Grand coral manors are burnished to a fine gleam; cloud castles come closer into focus. Drawbridges are lowered; pennants are raised, etc. Krofted Inanimae awaken and perform a similar housecleaning, but generally the results are seen in the real world, as their Anchors are no longer extant within the Dreaming. A paroseme living in a tuba would awaken and slowly remove the patina of tarnish on it; a glome in a graffiti covered wall would begin leaching out the paint, or transform the graffiti into creative and Glamorous patterns.

The next stage in the awakening is a gradual awareness of the outside world. The Inanimae watches the surroundings and tries to get a handle on the world around him. If his surroundings have changed tremendously — a tree that was once part of a forest is now the only tree in a city park — the poor kubera may spend months if not years trying to get his bearings.

Eventually, the Inanimae will take on Husk form for the first time and start looking about. Fortunately, when an Inanimae awakens, she sends out signals similar to the Chrysalis of a new Kithain. These ripples in Glamour are much more subtle than the fountain of Glamour generated by a Chrysalid. The signals are easily detected by other Inanimae, but only Kithain with strong Kenning can detect these beings.

The period of recalibration can be shortened if contact is made with other Inanimae. These other fae can help the awakening Sessile adapt in a kind of Saining. As with the Kithain, this period of adjustment is called fosterage. If a Kithain reaches the Inanimae and takes her under her wing, fosterage can have interesting effects. Inanimae fostered by Kithain may think that they are Kithain, and may lose part or all of their heritage as Inanimae. Such poor creatures often quickly become Undone, as they forget their Anchors and find it almost impossible to recover Glamour.


If an Inanimae is lucky enough to be found early in his awakening, he will be taken as a fosterling. The Slow Empires have fostering compacts, making certain that any Inanimae reawakening, be it of the Glade or Kroft is taken care of. The exception are the solimonds who must find their way to another solimond for fostering. Even so, when a new solimond is discovered by an Inanimae of another phyla, it is guided as quickly as possible to another solimond.

Fosterage begins with the crafting of a Husk or Facade. The fosterling learns how to craft a mortal seeming that will fit in with her surroundings. Often at this stage, any Husk created has very pronounced traits that mark it as housing a supernatural creature, hair made of leaves, or sky-blue skin. The teacher makes certain the Husk is passable before allowing her fosterling into the world. An Inanimae who tries to travel with an obviously exotic Husk is in very immediate danger of being withered away by the touch Banality.

As the teacher teaches the fosterling about the world and how to survive, the fosterling begins to come fully into his own senses. First, vague memories of the Shattering return, and slowly the events leading to the Inanimae's Slumber. Occasionally, a memory may surface reminding the Inanimae of a hatred for his teacher. (However it is considered bad form to kill one's teacher during fosterage.) These memories return without the aid of a teacher, but they return much more quickly when guided.

Often before the end of a Fosterage, the teacher offers to introduce the fosterling to the local court. Then, once the fosterling has learned enough to survive, he's left to fend for himself. Often, Inanimae who do not find a teacher never learn enough to survive more than a day or two within a Husk, and constantly drop back into Slumber. Eventually however, through a difficult hit-or-miss process, even orphaned Inanimae usually learn enough to carry on, although their perceptions of the world and Dreaming may be skewed.

Appearance and Masks

Would you like my mask?
would you like my mirror?
cries the man in the shadowing hood
You can look at yourself
you can look at each other
or you can look at the face of your god
— Loreena McKennitt, "Marrakesh Night Market"

The Inanimae are quite different from their Kithain cousins in that they are not born into mortal bodies. In order to survive the pressing weight of Banality, they must form their own bodies, called Husks. An Inanimae who remains in Dreamform for long outside of his Anchor withers away and may be lost forever.


When an Inanimae decides to leave her Anchor and go forth into the world, she must clothe her form in a substance that will shield her fragile fae spirit from the ravages of Banality. The reasons that Inanimae first take on Husks vary greatly. It might be to try this strange substance known as "chocolate," or to find the ducal freehold to take stock of the local court. Husks begin looking like a pre-adolescent, and then ages rapidly. As the Inanimae is exposed to Banality, and it takes root within her soul, her Husk will age even faster. By the time an Inanimae must return to her Anchor, her Husk will resemble an old person. Once she's regenerated, her Husk will once again look youthful and spry.

The first time an Inanimae wears a Husk, it ressembles his form within the Dreaming. A kubera becomes a sharp looking fellow with skin of wood and hair of feathery leaves. With practice, however, this Husk becomes more and more human-like, and when dressed in clothing, the kubera will be able to pass for human in most places. There are always tell-tale signs to watch for, but practiced Husk-users are very hard to spot.

Each phylum of Inanimae tends to look a certain way when they take on a Husk. Ondines move very gracefully and fluidly, and always have pale sky-blue eyes. Kuberas range from lithe to solid, and always have smooth, polished skin, ranging from cafe-au-lait to mahogany. They have hair with green highlights. Solimonds are flaming redheads with striking tans. They also tend to burst with energy. Glomes are built like mountains, with slate-gray hair and eyes. Glomes also move with ponderous deliberation as if they will not be moved. Mannikins look just like you or me, except they have a plastic look to them, and move with a slight jerkiness. Paroseme are almost as thin as sluagh, and have many quick and bird-like movements. They also tend to look like birds, with beak-like noses and sharp piercing gazes.

When an Inanimae enters her Anchor, a freehold or the Dreaming, the Husk fades away to be replaced by her Dreamform. The Sessile Ones can maintain their Husks while in such a place though the concentration required is usually not worth the effort. If a Husk is destroyed, the Inanimae is immediately thrown back into his Anchor, and in most cases, succumbs to the Slumber.


When within the Dreaming, at her Anchor, or within the confines of a freehold, an Inanimae shows her true form, the extension of her Anchor that is sentient. This is her Dreamform. Each Inanimae can take the identical form of her Anchor or a humanoid form that looks as if it was crafted directly from that Anchor. A kubera can look like an ancient oak, or an old man with a beard of moss, and thick arms that can still break a whippersnapper like a twig. A paroseme that lives in a chinook becomes either a breeze whipping around a room, or becomes a misty apparition that looks like a phantom made of cloud.

Dreamforms are extremely susceptible to Banality. As such, if an Inanimae is even touched by iron while within her Dreamform, she is immediately snapped back to her Anchor and is driven into a state of Slumber.


An Anchor is the single most important thing in any lnanimae's life. It is the Inanimae's soul, heart and body. Inanimae cannot survive without their Anchors, and should the Inanimae be Undone, the Anchor quickly withers or decays. Anchors are as varied as the individuals who inhabit them. The one thing they all have in common is that they reflect the fae within. A kubera who is healthy and full of Glamour has an Anchor that's a beautiful pine with healthy needles and a full spread of branches. If the same kubera is succumbing to Banality, his tree slowly sickens. Its needles turn brown and drop off. In the same way, if an Anchor is destroyed, it is almost certain to destroy the Inanimae within.

Anchors in the Waking World

Within the mortal sphere, Anchors appear no different to the mortal eye than their mundane counterparts. However, even to mortals, there is something about the vicinity of an Anchor that feels magical. When near a rock holding a glome, a mortal might feel spooked, as if someone was watching him. Also, Anchors often became sacred places for the sense of creativity and wonder that is felt when around them. Unless a mortal is hag-ridden with Banality, he will try to avoid harming an Anchor if possible. However, this minor compulsion is easily overcome if there is a job to do, such as clear-cutting a forest.

To supernatural creatures the perception of an Anchor can range from a spiritual object of power that needs to be protected, to a battery that waits to be drained. Werewolves and Mages can both sense an Anchor if the Inanimae within is active. Werewolves must have the ability to sense spirits, and may be confused as to what the inhabitant of the Anchor truly is. Mages sense the Glamour within the Anchor and often those of the less natural-type orders see Anchors as resources to exploit.

Kithain can use their Kenning to discover an Anchor. If successful, an Anchor will glow with a nimbus of Glamour. This aura is much easier to spot if the Inanimae is awake and active.

Anchors within the Dreaming

Each Anchor exists simultaneously within the Near Dreaming, the waking world, and is a link into its empire's homeland in the Deep Dreaming. Like the Djinni's lamp, within an Anchor is a home, furnished and decorated to suit the tastes of the fae who lives there. Gladeling Anchors tend to be sparsely furnished and everything is made from the same material as the Anchor. Krofted fae often have much more diverse homesteads, with furnishings like a human or Kithain home.

Within the Dreaming, Anchors resemble buildings made from the Anchor or affiliated materials. Ondine Anchors often resemble castles of multicolored coral, where as solimond Anchors are generally made of living flame. These Anchors are somewhat fixed in one place within the Near Dreaming (as much as anything is fixed in the Dreaming), but a massive change in the Anchor, such as Krofting, can alter its position.

The Destruction of an Anchor

If the unthinkable happens, and an Anchor is destroyed, an Inanimae has very little time before she follows into oblivion. When an Anchor is destroyed, the Inanimae is thrust into the world without any protection from Banality, becoming true fae. Banality quickly erodes these unfortunates in a matter of hours, sometimes minutes.

Without an Anchor, the Inanimae cannot regain Glamour, cannot protect himself from Banality, and is adrift, almost without a soul.

If riding a Husk, the Inanimae is very lucky. The Husk will protect the fae from Banality somewhat, as she tries to find a new Anchor within a very small time window.


Slumber is the state where the Inanimae is held immobile within her Anchor, waiting for the moment to become active again. There are two kinds of Slumber. The first and most common is shock-induced Slumber. When a Husk is destroyed, an Anchor is threatened, or whenever there is some sort of massive trauma, the Inanimae may abandon her active life and enter Slumber. These Slumbers rarely last more than a few weeks.

An Inanimae may enter Slumber voluntarily, usually to regenerate a Husk, or to protect themselves from Banality. If this is the case, the duration of the Slumber is only one tenth of the usual time. After that, the Inanimae may awaken. The second type of Slumber is what happened during the Shattering. This is commonly called the Somnolence. Somnolence can last for months, years, even centuries. Only the gravest of Trauma will force an Inanimae into Somnolence. When the Shattering arrived, it threw almost all the static ones into Somnolence, and it was only the Resurgence that has begun to re-awaken them.


The dead gray fist of Banality closes around the Inanimae as inexorably as it does with the other fae. When the Shattering came, and the trods collapsed, the empires fled the oncoming leaden wave of disbelief and tied to their Anchors, awaiting a renewal. With the Resurgence, many of them felt that this time had come. However, they have all discovered that Banality is as present as it ever was, and lies in wait for them with what seems like particular relish.

Like the sidhe, the Inanimae aren't used to the unbelief in the mortal world. They find themselves extremely fragile and weak in the face of it. While within their Anchors or Husks, they are protected from some of Banality's effects, but naked disbelief hits them very hard, sometimes sending them into Slumber.

Inanimae do not suffer from Banality's curse in the same way that the sidhe do. Their curse is much more insidious. As they gain Banality, they age in body and mind. Many older Inanimae are so weighted down with Banality that their Husks are born as ancient men or wizened crones, and they can barely remember what has gone on the day before.

The Grown and the Shaped

The courts of the Kithain strive and struggle with their internal demons. Each Kithain is drawn to the Seelie and Unseelie side of her psyche. No matter which court a changeling currently owes her loyalty to, there's always a spark of the other. The division within the Inanimae world is at once more subtle and more profound.

Those Sessile who remain with the Anchor that they originally bonded to ages ago are called gladelings. The Inanimae that have had their Anchors modified by sentient hands are known as Krofted.

Originally, all Inanimae were gladelings. Occasionally, an unlucky Inanimae Anchor would be crudely modified by a human or another fae. The Inanimae within would usually be shocked into Slumber or destroyed. If the Inanimae survived the process he would change, with a corresponding shift in attitude. These Inanimae were shunned by their brethren, and were so lonely they would slip into Bedlam. This would change with the coming of the Making War.

After the war, it was the gladelings who, although nominally victorious, were so vastly reduced in number that they realized that they were now the minority. When the gladelings realized they could no longer understand this world, they began to retreat into Somnolence. Soon, the Sundering forced their Krofted brethren to follow.


Only now have the gladelings begun to awaken. These fae are primal in temperament, and they feel that they are the upper crust of Inanimae society. They stop short of calling themselves noble, leaving that conceit to the sidhe, but even the most egalitarian of gladelings see themselves as being purer breeds than their shaped counterparts.

All gladelings feel so closely identified to their element that their personalities have a raw primal edge to them. All Inanimae are alien and strange, but gladeling Sessile have a unique viewpoint that even Krofted Inanimae often find them inscrutable. As the numbers of gladelings have dropped, they have begun to feel a siege mentality. Older, more experienced gladelings have started becoming so paranoid about their Anchors remaining untouched that they will try to stop anyone from approaching them. This paranoia may eventually lead to Bedlam.


The Inanimae who survive their Anchors' Krofting become changed. They lose some of their connection to the deep primal nature of gladeling fae, but in exchange they become closer to their Kithain cousins, and mortal Dreamers. After the Making War, the Krofted Inanimae found themselves in the majority. This shifted the balance of power in each empire. Before all the chips could finish falling, however, the Sundering placed almost all the Inanimae into Somnolence. Now that the Inanimae are reawakening, these changes in demographics may affect politics very quickly. There are many Inanimae who entered Slumber as gladelings, who re-awakened as Krofted. Many more were destroyed during the Interregnum. Most Krofted fae resent the attitude of the gladelings, and have many differences of opinion. Krofted fae feel they should actively pursue contacts within the changeling and mortal worlds, whereas gladeling Sessile prefer the passive guardianship of their Anchors. They only get involved in the outer worlds if necessary. Krofted fae find it easier to craft their Husks, having been molded by human hands already. They also find it easier to interact with Kithain as their mental processes are slightly more modern than their Sessile cousins. Krofted Inanimae often make contracts with others who can be guardians to their Anchors, so they have more freedom to explore while Husk-riding. Needless to say, these contracts are only entertained with the most trusted friends. If this oath is exchanged with a Kithain, it becomes binding within the Dreaming; if broken, the Inanimae snaps immediately back to the Anchor, often with murder in her eye.

The Phyla

The faerie spirits who inhabit the inanimate have their own intricate civilization, with ceremonies as grand and meaningful as anything devised by the sidhe, conflicts more cataclysmic than a troll's dreams, and delicate political structures that would make a boggan weep with fascination and joy. It should come as no surprise that the faeries of the rocks and skies have built themselves such an exquisitely complex civilization — none would doubt that they've had time enough to work on it.

Because every faerie is unique, the Inanimae have diverged from one another over the ages, forming various groups of closely related spirits or "phyla." These phyla — inanimate "kith" — are, in turn, grouped into larger societies known as the Great Slow Empires or the "Inanimate Courts." Those phyla described here are only the most common to exist within each of the empires. Other phyla certainly exist, but they are exceedingly rare. Most scholars of the Glass Circle number the Slow Empires at six — Stones, Tears, Skies, Flames, Seeds and Dolls — and make no attempt to classify them according to their relative influence or profluence in the modern world, arguing that the status of "Slow Empire" is less a matter of gross political power and more a matter of the symmetry of the mystic body of the Dreaming itself. The fact that the organ of the Dreaming formed by the Empire of Flames is atrophied and apparently diseased does not mean that the Dreaming no longer has that organ, only that there is a grievous imbalance at work.

Spirits belong to an empire according to the materials they choose to inhabit, as follows:

Empire of Stones (glomes): dense solids, rock in both raw and worked forms, metals

Empire of Tears (ondines): liquids, waterways, bodies of both standing and running water

Empire of Skies (parosemes): gases, weather disturbances, clouds, mists and odors

Empire of Flames (solimonds): naturally occurring ambient energy, lightning, wildfire

Empire of Seeds (kuberas): vegetable life

Empire of Dolls (mannikins): images carved, molded and otherwise shaped by human hands.

The "Empire of Flickers," if recognized, is composed of those spirits who take their bodies from conditions of artificial light, including film, television broadcasts and computer transmissions.

More Than Bodies

A given Inanimae's affiliation with one of the empires is more than a simple matter of taxonomy. The choice to inhabit some substances and not others is a function of one's faerie psychology, one's unique natural role within the grand Story of the Dreaming. Because of this, Imperial ties are signs of a deep kinship of spirit, a bond as close or closer than those shared by members of mortal families. It one is a member of the Empire of Tears, then one shares certain similarities in mentality, attitudes and behavior with all the other liquid spirits in the world that go beyond the brute likeness shared by aqueous phenomena.

For the Inanimaic, each of the empires is a world in itself, comprising its own almost unfathomable structure of government and magical power, protocol and fellowship, feuds and loyalties. The empires hold vast territories throughout the waking world, marking off their borders according to the ancient divisions between sea and sky, land and sea, vegetable and mineral, that which burns and that which is burned. Compared to such primal and universal borders, the shifting lines between human nations and cultures seem hopelessly nonsensical to the Inanimae, and only those who make a special study of the meat will ever hope to understand the distinction between, for example, the Kingdom of Willows and the Kingdom of Grass.


The plant people dance from tree limb to tree limb and dress in leaves. The kubera are watchers, thinkers and protectors. During the Making War, they were the strategists and sergeants. Gladeling kuberas generally have ancient groves or towering single trees as their Anchors. Other Anchors could be beautiful fields of flowers or any other plants. Krofted kuberas have elaborate walking sticks, or bushes that have been carved into intricate shapes. Gladeling kuberas have decent relations with Krofted ones, although they see them as slightly duller cousins.


These gentle folk swim through the murky depths alongside leviathan, and live in clear mountain streams along with the silvered trout. Their peaceful natures made them the ones to quench the fires of the solimonds when it became time to make the peace at the end of the Making War. Their Anchors are any body of water, be it an open lake or a mighty iceberg.

Gladeling ondines live in natural waters, like springs and mountain rivers. Krofted ondines live in reservoirs or dammed rivers. The one place an ondine should never live is in water that is polluted. There is a group of ondines that will bear the touch of tainted water, but these sad Inanimae have forsaken the peaceable way of their brethren and will attack anyone foolish enough to approach their lairs. The gladeling ondines accept their brothers openly, with the exception of the Tainted Ones. The Krofted ondines openly accept their wild brethren, but are trying to reclaim the Tainted Ones. This bone of contention makes for heated arguments, which anyone but other ondines would mistake for gentle conversation.


Flitting from cloud to summer breeze to northern chinook, the parosemes glide through life with the song of the winds to keep them company. During the Making War, the parosemes wafted around learning where the solimonds were teaching and informing the glomes where to strike. Parosemes have a terrible time keeping their mind on anything for any length of time, and they enjoy inflicting this view on others. Parosemes live wherever the winds blow — a vicious crosswind between buildings, the booming sound of a tuba, a cold wind that blows from the north. The fabled Mach One was an old, powerful paroseme who toyed with airplanes until Banality conquered his realm. Gladeling parosemes live within any natural occurring wind source. Krofted parosemes live within anything that can produce wind, such as brass or woodwind instruments, or even a set of wind chimes. Gladeling parosemes ignore their Krofted brothers publicly, but every time a jazzman scats to the beat of the wind against the window, there could be two parosemes jamming right along. Krofted parosemes feel they are just as valid as their gladeling brothers, and strive to be accepted by them.


The glomes are the memory of the static folk. They live within the vast mountain ranges and slumber in the very bedrock of the Earth. Glomes possess the strength of the living Earth and have a devotion to duty and sense of honor that can make a troll look like a conniving schemer. This vaunted sense of honor is possibly strange seeming to most non-Inanimae, but when it comes to following their precepts, glomes are relentless. The central tenet of the glome philosophy could loosely be translated as "eye for an eye." This also means that if you sacrifice an eye for a glome, he will sacrifice one for you if asked. The glomes were the front-line soldiers during the Making War, and to this day, gladeling glomes do not speak with solimonds nor will they willingly enter into contact with other Krofted Inanimae, save other glomes.

Gladeling glomes live within natural rock formations, and can live within unsmelted ores. Krofted Anchors include abstract art, stone skyscrapers or anything made of metal (except iron). Gladeling glomes are reserved and solitary, watching and waiting. They remember the Making War where they lost so many kin, and rarely speak to Krofted Inanimae. Krofted glomes are much more gregarious and are generally thought of when glomes are mentioned. They have washed their hands of their brethren, and think of them as unable to accept the present. Both are alike in their disdain for the solimonds.


The firefolk were once the most free of the Inanimae. They roamed the Dreaming in the flashes of light in the sky, living in a huge palace within the sun itself. They would reach the mortal world through campfires and occasionally rampage through an area, burning and destroying. Then they decided to teach their gifts to humanity. This act touched off the Making War, which split the Sessile into the Glade and the Kroft. When the war ended, a tenuous peace existed, where the gladelings found themselves outnumbered by the Krofted. The unifying thread was the casting of the solimonds as the enemy. The solimonds who will speak of the war claim that they only created as many Krofted as needed to help defend themselves. Be that as it may, in these limes, the solimonds have been scattered to the winds, and are only tolerated by most phyla, and openly hated by others. Solimonds live anywhere with heat and light, often in places like volcanoes. Many solimonds live in camping ground firepits, being places where fire once was and will be again. Some solimonds can live within balefires as guardians of freeholds as well. In ages past, the solimonds thought they were immune to Krofting, for who could control fire. Then the first solimond found himself trapped in a gas stove — the Krofted solimonds had arrived. The reality of this may change the way solimonds feel about the war and could affect everything about this empire.


The final empire, the one whose destiny is tied so closely to that of the Dreamers is that of the mannikins. These Inanimae are few and far between. They straddle the line between Kithain and Inanimae. Not changelings, but not truly Inanimae, mannikins are more often found in the company of Kithain than with other Inanimae. The mannikins were neutral in the Making War, being almost exclusively Krofted to begin with. Gladeling mannikins are incredibly rare, and are only found where the elements have naturally formed something that resembles the human form. Anchors include puppets, sculpture, and the ubiquitous department-store mannequin. Mannikins are aloof to everyone, but seem to treat solimonds with gentleness in comparison with other Inanimae. Perhaps they know something about these mistreated Inanimae, or perhaps they simply understand the solimonds' desire to bring Krofting into the world.

The Empires

The Inanimae all belong to an empire. These empires are divided along phylum lines, and are more analogous to Native American nations than an actual geographical area. However each empire has a homeland within the Dreaming. Every member of an empire may at any time visit their homeland through a portal in their Anchor. They can bring companions, provided their companions are enchanted. Only the empire of the mannikins has no known location. This lack of homeland allows them to travel to any homeland they wish. Each empire has a political structure unique to itself. Politically, they often have Byzantine relations with each other, that are baffling to even the most skilled Machiavellis within Kithain society. The homelands of the Inanimae may be reached by ancient trods, many of which are still sealed, forcing pilgrims to travel the twisting dangerous paths of the Dreaming. Inanimae may induct other fae into their empires as citizens, but never other Inanimae.

The Compact

After the Making War, the homeland of the solimonds was placed under siege. The occupation forces were made up from all the other empires. During the Interregnum, many of the forces withdrew or were destroyed. Now that many Inanimae have awakened, many gladelings have called for a re-establishment of the blockade. Fortunately for the solimonds, the majority feel it is time to heal the breaches in Inanimae society.

Empire of Tears

The ondine empire is an Athenian-style democracy. Any ondine may cast a vote on any issue. A speaker articulates policy, but her decision may be called into review by a vote of not less than 20 ondines. The speaker is elected for three years, and is considered to be the wisest and most intelligent of all ondine kind. The current speaker is Nina, who lives within a small cove of warm water in the Pacific Ocean.

The homeland of the ondines is a vast ocean that extends over every horizon. It is 20 miles deep, and within it is a vast city of coral buildings and highways. Anyone who travels to this reality had better have the ability to breathe under water. Many of the pirate captains in the Fiefs of Bright Paradise know how to navigate this trackless sea through the Dreaming as a shortcut, for this ocean has links to every body of water on Earth and in the Dreaming.

Politically, the Empire of the Waters has no enemies. The ondines remain on friendly terms with all the other Inanimae and although they generally claim to have forgiven the solimonds, they do tend to turn frosty when one is around. Many people think that this could also be because fire and water have never been terribly complementary.

Empire of the Stones

The Empire of Stones is a strict hierarchical society. Each glome knows his place within the greater whole. However, the empire is also a meritocracy, and advancement is swift to those who can advance the causes of all glome-kind. The current marshall of the glome forces is R'kash, a gladeling living within a mountain in the Pyrenees. His general staff is made up entirely of Krofted glomes who have been promoted to their rank because of their familiarity with the modern world. Recently, the general staff has been campaigning for a softer line on solimond persecution, but the marshall will listen to none of it.

The glome homeland is a huge citadel, grown from a living mountain. Three times it has been under siege, and each time, the invaders were repelled and crushed. Within the heart of this citadel is one of the few sources of chimerical iron. Supplicants who wish to get some must prove their worth in a harrowing gauntlet.

Politically, the glomes remain the most polarized. They insist that the solimonds must be scoured from the Dreaming, and will not release the hold on the solimond homeland. The ondines lead the forces asking the glomes to forget the old hatreds, but with little success.

Empire of Skies

The parosemes have a government that can best be described as anarchy meeting tribalism. Once a year, this empire has the 13 oldest active members join and debate measures that affect all parosemes. They then make long ornate proclamations that are summarily ignored by all their members.

The current council is made of six gladelings and six Krofted. The leader is still Mach who lives at the top of one of the highest mountains. Mach is the only known paroseme who can issue a command to his empire, and have others obey out of sheer respect.

The homeland of the parosemes is located within the Deep Dreaming, and resembles an entire country made of clouds and glass. Ghostly animals graze on cloud-like grass, and wispy folk wind their way around the delicate countryside on foot or on the wing. At the center of this realm is a huge tower made from a cumulus cloud in the shape of a unicorn's horn, as solid as marble. At the top of this tower is the council chamber where the High Council meets.

The Empire of Skies currently trades with the Empire of Tears, trading rain for evaporation. The Empire of Stones is currently considered too boring to have anything but the most cursory of diplomatic relations. There are no plans to join in the blockade of the Empire of Flames, but the gladeling councilors are constantly agitating for a move in that direction. As to the Empire of Dolls, no one says anything.

Empire of Flames

The Empire of Flames is not what it once was. The Making War shattered the solimonds and spread them in a diaspora, making them unwelcome fugitives wherever they went. As a political entity, the empire was once a complex imperial monarchy with tiers of nobility and pageantry and ceremonies to rival those of any sidhe court. Since the war, several groups claim to be the true court-in-exile. The Homeland itself is ruled by a puppet emperor, a fat Krofted fae named Kksh, whose Anchor is a gas fireplace in central Manhattan. Kksh is supported by the glomes, and claims he is the rightful emperor.

Once a bronze vista of palatial estates and a horizon of flame lighting the sky, the solimond homeland is now a shattered ruin. An eon of siege and occupation has taken its toll, reducing the towns and cities to wrecks. The sole exception is the capital. Virtually deserted save for those who follow Kksh, and the glome soldiers who patrol the streets.

The only other empire with diplomatic relations to the Empire of Flames, quixotically enough, are the glomes. They only recognize the rule of Kksh. Any other claimant is ignored at best, attacked at worst. Many solimonds only hold the Empire of Flames within their hearts, refusing to return to their homeland until it is under their control again.

Empire of Seeds

The kuberas' empire is a sylvan grouping that shares its lives and goods. The kubera have a monarch who is proclaimed every 10 years by a sacred rite that no one has ever seen. This monarch has a privy council that helps her make her decisions. The current monarch is Her Royal Majesty Queen Driyanna. She is halfway into her 10-year rule and is a gladeling. She is trying to bring the two courts together, and is having mixed success.

The kubera homeland is a vast forest in the center of the homeland realms. Within the center of this forest is a city grown entirely from trees. Many tree-homes are still choked with ivy, but as the kuberas awaken, the city becomes more and more lively.

Politically, the kuberas support the glomes, but they are not entirely comfortable with the treatment of the solimond homeland. Being the most transformed by the Making War has left the Empire of Seeds not terribly sympathetic to the cause of solimond re-integration.

The Empire of Dolls

The mannikins claim to have no empire and no homeland. They gather occasionally in quiet pockets of the Dreaming, to keep their own counsel, and will appear occasionally to give advice within the courts and chambers of the other empires. When speaking for the mannikins as a whole, the emissary wears a black robe. Even the marshal of the glomes listens when a black-robe brings tidings. Deep within the Dreaming it is rumored a small Victorian townhouse sits upon a field of Kentucky bluegrass. The well-appointed interior is the site of the mannikin council. This is but a rumor, and the mannikins have never invited anyone to their meeting place. There are other darker rumors about where these elusive Inanimae come from, but nothing has yet been proven.

Politically, the mannikins seem to serve as catalysts for change. When a black-robe appears, shifts in policy follow. Many Inanimae wonder what the secret of the black-clad fae are, but the leaders of the other empires will not reveal what is said. Once in a long while, a black-robe will address an entire empire, and without fail, war is soon to come. The solimonds have not had an official black-robe visit since the fall of their homeland. Some claim that when the nation is reunited, the mannikins will send their emissaries again, others claim that the mannikins will only send an emissary to the true king. Either way, the mannikins, who should be the most sympathetic to the solimonds, have remained mute.

The Codex Primeval

The Codex are the fundamental laws of all Inanimae. These were agreed upon before the Bonding, and have remained in force ever since. Each precept of the Codex has evolved, and gladelings interpret certain tenets differently than Krofted ones. Also, different empires have their own interpretations. Bound within these laws was the Glamour that bound the fae spirits to their new forms, and as such, if the Dreaming determines that the Codex is being violated, it may retaliate, as it would with any oathbreaker.

The Anchor is life. Never destroy an Anchor, or allow an Anchor to come to harm through inaction.
This is the ultimate law of the Inanimae. No matter what war or conflict arises, an Inanimae may never do harm to another Anchor. To do so is the equivalent of becoming Dauntain. Even in their greatest fury, the glomes could not bring themselves to destroy solimond Anchors. However, they often would stop Husk-riding fae from returning to their Anchors, forcing them into the Dreaming or into Slumber, making them easier to deal with.

Those who break this precept find their Anchor withering away, dissolving. Soon they will be Undone. If they manage to stop this decay, they will be marked forever, shunned by the lowest of the low.

Leave the Land of Unfulfilled Dreams to those who live within it. You are eternal.
This precept is interpreted differently by gladeling and Krofted Inanimae. Sessile fae often feel that this means that they should not interfere with the lives of Mortals or Kithain, and point to every broken promise or doomed love affair as proof. Krofted Inanimae interpret this to mean that they may act within the world, so long as they allow those who live within it to make their own choices. It seems the Dreaming agrees with this second interpretation. However, should this precept be flagrantly violated, such as if an Inanimae were to kidnap a high king, the consequences may be profound.

Do no harm, unless you are harmed. Let justice be your goal, never vengeance.
As always, this is the precept that has the widest interpretation. Differing ideas of justice, harm and vengeance make this the precept that is the most contentious between the various empires. What the glomes see as justice, the solimonds and ondines claim as vengeance, and what offends the paroseme can be remarkably random. This precept was meant to keep the peace, but has made inter-empire squabbling seem more like Mafia infighting than reasoned conflict.

If an Inanimae crosses a line between justice and vengeance, she is removed from the protection of this precept. Often however, the line is defined by the aggressor, and so many actions that would be called excessive are tolerated by the Dreaming.

To your empire you are subject; honor arid serve it to the best of your ability.
This precept is open to individual interpretation. Most glomes see this as strict duty to the military-style hierarchy, whereas the kuberas and ondines tend to interpret this as trying to live in accordance with the philosophical axioms of their empires. So long as an Inanimae is not openly treacherous to its brethren, this precept is intact.

Inanimae life

There are myriad facets of Inanimae life that outsiders only may get glimpses of. There are wheels within wheels, each empire has a culture of its own with its own rituals and holidays and dialects. However, there are certain important dates and times of the year that are important to all Inanimae.

Lingua lnanimica

The Inanimae often seem to be making nonsensical sounds, parosemes sound like the blowing wind, a glome makes a noise like stones grinding together. The reality of this is that the Inanimae can speak with each other by speaking the language of their empire. There is a common language, called low lnanimica, that all Inanimae speak, which is impossible to learn if one is not Inanimae. There is also another dialect in each empire, based upon its element that only its inhabitants can understand. Again, the mannikins can only speak low lnanimica, but apparently they can understand all the other forms.

Festival Days

Equinoxes and Solstices
Each Equinox and Solstice is a holiday. Each empire holds a celebration in honor of the date it is affiliated with. It is at these four times a year that the leaders of the four intact empires meet. The solimond puppet is also there, but is generally ignored. The Autumn Equinox belongs jointly to the parosemes and ondines. All are invited to the underwater palaces of the ondines, their oxygen supplied by their paroseme co-hosts. They celebrate with long feasting, and great gifts are given at this time.

The Winter Solstice is hosted by the glomes, and is the greatest tourney held within the Dreaming. The festival is similar to a martial-skills Olympics, and the winners of these competitions are showered with praise, and if glome, rapid promotion.

The Spring Equinox is the kubera faire. Inanimae craftspeople, musicians and others come to celebrate the renewal of life and the end of winter. It is at this time that the leaders of the empires will make any joint proclamations necessary.

The Summer Solstice was once a beautiful masque of stately beauty and grace, as well as a four-day university as the solimonds gathered to share their knowledge. Now it a drunken bacchanal, as the puppet emperor holds court with fire-wine dribbling down his face onto his tunic. The only solimonds who attend are fawning quislings trying to gain favor. Seeing this state of affairs keeps many Inanimae from attending the Concordia of Fire. The mannikins claim to have no yearly ritual, but often there are rumors of time stolen on New Year's Eve, between 11:59 and midnight. Within that minute, it is whispered that the mannikins all awaken and have one day to live as mortals. When they return to their Anchors, the time rewinds to midnight again, and the year goes forth. If this is true it would explain a great deal about why the Hidden Empire has information that no other empire seems to have.

Remembrance Day
This is celebrated by the solimonds who are still in exile. This somber day of remembering their homeland is marked by gloomy progressions, flickering flames in the night, and the singing of dirges. The glomes have outlawed the ceremony within the homeland of the solimonds.

The Moot
This is when the kubera gather in a huge glade on highsummer located somewhere in the vast forests of Russia. At this gathering, the kubera are permitted to petition their monarch. If the 10-year reign is over, the monarch is sent into Somnolence and a new one is chosen. An invitation to this gathering is highly prized, and those who don't have one can never seem to locate the event. Last year, High King David was invited, by personal request of Queen Driyanna. His Majesty declined with apologies. The result of this snub has yet to be felt.

Secret Societies

Within each of the empires there are groups that have formed, as with any society. These are the most well known of the groups within the empires. There are other groups rumored to live in shadow, but so far have not come forth to identify themselves.

The Solimond Liberation Front, Solimond Libre, etc… These groups range from ragtag mobs to organized cells. Each has one goal, to retake the solimond homeland, and reestablish the Empire of Flames. Some of these groups tend to act as terrorists, striking at Husks, and sending indirect attacks at Anchors. Others simply try to be diplomatic and explain the motivations behind the Making War. Until these groups find a way to unite despite their difference, solimond liberation is a distant goal.

Gaia's Fist

This is a group of gladelings that claim that they will never accept the Krofted. They all take their hatred of the Krofted to such extremes, that truly deranged members have been known to try to destroy Krofted Anchors. This group works within the Imperial courts and within the homelands to drive the Krofted out. They are only a vocal minority, and many Sessile who secretly may agree with their views publicly deny supporting them.

The Brotherhood of the Hand

This is a group of Inanimae, Krofted and gladelings alike, that is trying to close the gap between the two courts. It stands united as an example of what the two courts can do together. This group has a very small contingent of glomes, but happily this number is slowly growing, despite orders against joining. This group welcomes solimonds into its ranks, and often this is the only place where the firefolk can find the company of other Inanimae. This group maintains and gathers political power with the aim of furthering its goal.

The Empire of the Machine

This group is spoken of as a story that older Inanimae tell to their fosterlings to scare them. Supposedly, it is a gathering of insane fae that, once Krofted, found themselves obsessed with the artifacts of man. They seek out the most complex machines and electronics and attempt to Anchor within them. Once attached, they seek to abduct newly awakened Inanimae and force them, with electric rituals, to join their unholy ranks.

The Concordiat

This small knot of scholars is all that is left of the great solimond universities. Gathering once every six months, Inanimae from each empire meet to discuss and share knowledge. The Concordia records have one of the most extensive amounts of fae lore in existence. The Glass Circle often will consult the nobles of Concordia about certain matters. The professor of advanced trod travel (esq.) has recently claimed to have found a route back to Arcadia, but soon after the announcement, he vanished. Curiously, his Anchor seems to have gone with him. The position is currently vacant.

Relations with Others

The Inanimae have only limited relations with the Kithain… because of their nature, the Sessile are naturally mistrustful of all creatures of meat, even those who have faerie souls. The Inanimae are also far more rare than their Kithain cousins. The combination of limited contact and the fact that few of them exist causes some Kithain to believe that the Inanimae do not even exist. In fact, many Kithain believe that the Inanimae did not survive the Shattering or if they did, they all retreated to Arcadia.

Recently, the Inanimae have started to become more involved in the courts of Kithain. Many of the Sessile have come to discover the value of cultivating these fae as allies. Among the Sessile, the Krofted are the most likely to be found in the company of the Kithain. In many cases, a Krofted Inanimae (and even a gladeling skilled at Husk-making) may not even reveal his true nature of his Kithain friends. This accounts for the fact that many Kithain claim to have never seen an Inanimae when, in fact, they may be close friends with one.

Still others maintain that the Inanimae should remain separate from all meat. That they can never hope to comprehend the ways of the Slow Empires and that relations with them can only end in disaster.

Seemings (Jeu)

The Inanimae have adopted the Kithain terms, childling wilder and grump to indicate how long an Inanimae has been awake in the mundane world. Since how long an Inanimae has been awake does not affect her physical appearance, the term seeming did not seem appropriate. So, the French term Jeu (meaning playing or acting) was chosen.


Childling Inanimae are those who have just re-awakened, and have only recently left the tutelage of their mentor. They are often awkward within the mortal and Kithain worlds because they are not fully acclimated. Inanimae are generally considered childlings until they've been around for at least four or five years. Many childling Inanimae are Krofted and the number of gladelings continues to dwindle every day.
Beginning Glamour: 3
Beginning Banality: 5
Beginning Willpower: 2
Number of Starting Slivers: 3


Inanimae Wilders have been active for several years and understand the ropes of the mortal and Kithain worlds, if not fully comfortable within them. In this Jeu, the Inanimae is yet to be wholly weighted down by Banality. This is the largest group of active Inanimae, which consists of the largest group that has re-awakened since the Shattering. This group is having to deal with the largest shift in its demographic, as the empires realize that thousands of gladelings have become Krofted.
Beginning Glamour: 6
Beginning Banality: 4
Beginning Willpower: 3
Number of Starting Slivers: 3


Inanimae are only considered Grumps if they've managed to avoid Slumber for many years. This category includes the very few powerful Sessile who have survived through the Interregnum. It contains those who have been active since the first wave after the Resurgence. These older and more experienced Sessile run the workings of the empires, and tend to be the official emissaries to Kithain courts.
Beginning Glamour: 6
Beginning Banality: 6
Beginning Willpower: 5
Number of Starting Slivers: 4

The inanimate world is populated with solitary, unique creatures that defy attempts to classify them into neat categories or kith. The dreams of rocks and dolls are strange and fugitive. They confound the logic of meat people. The Inanimae that embody those dreams are likewise difficult to fit into rigid classification systems. Once, this was less much true than it is now, but the near extinction of many of the formerly prominent inanimate races has left many painful gaps in the world. Whole phyla have vanished forever from the world, having been either driven back into the Dreaming, or having simply died out.

All that remains of the once-great empires of the inanimate is a handful of phyla. Scholars point to these inanimate phyla as the"fittest," the best suited of all the faerie spirits in adapting to the terrifying modern World of Darkness. In fact, fitness has had little to do with these races' survival. Several other phyla still exist, but their numbers are smaller even than those mentioned here. Like so many faerie things, it has been more a matter of luck, poetry and historical accident.


Gladeling: An Inanimae whose Anchor is still in its natural srate. Gladeling fae tend to have a superior attitude about their Anchor.

Krofted: An Inanimae whose Anchor has been modified by human hands. Krofted fae tend to understand the mortal world much more clearly than their gladeling brethren.


Inanimae characters can have all the Backgrounds listed in the Changeling rulebook (pp. 146-1 50), except Holdings, Influence and Title. Also, there are modifications to the following Backgrounds. Two new Backgrounds are listed as well.

Contacts: Inanimae can have contacts in both Kithain societies, and in the mortal world.

Dreamers: The Dreamer Background is fairly rare for Inanimae characters because of their limited contact with mortals. If the character has the Dreamers background, the player must figure out how the Inanimae lured the human(s) to her, and what their musing threshold is, as described in the Changeling rulebook.

Husk (new Background): Your degree of skill at fashioning a mortal Husk or Facade.

Regard (new background): Your level of respect among the Inanimaic empires.

Resources: Inanimae with physical resources are very rare. An example of such would be an Inanimae that has been active since the Resurgence, and has accumulated some money. Another may be a glome with a vein of gold near his Anchor.

Retinue: Before the Shattering, pagan groups would often choose an Anchor as the central sire of their worship. The Inanimae within then acted as patron guardian and spiritual advisor. After the Shattering, this custom declined, although many Anchors were treated as sacred sites. Since the Resurgence, some neo-pagan groups have discovered active Inanimae, and have become protectors and servants.

Slivers (Arts)

Slivers are the Inanimae versions of Arts. Wilders, Grumps and all mannikins can also choose to take Kithain Arts. (See Changeling: The Dreaming pp. 171-188.) See also Slivers, pp. 78.

Petros — The power of stone. Petros has skills involving warrior's skills and control over rock.
Pyros — The powers of flame. Pyros gives power over the flames of the heart as well as true flame.
Verdage — The power of the plants. Verdage grants the power to manipulate the living world, shaping it to the caster's will.
Aquis — The power of the waters. Aquis has power to see what is hidden and can control the flows of the river of Time as well.
Stratus — The power of wind. Stratus deals with travel and distances to cross. Stratus also has the power of Mirage, to confuse and misdirect others.


Realms control which aspect of the world an Inanimae's Slivers can affect. Wilders, grumps and all mannikins can also choose to learn Kithain Realms. (See Changeling: The Dreaming, pp. 188-189. Also see, Realms pp. 87.)

Air — Non-living environments (weather, geography)
Earth — Non-living objects (cars, homes, clothing)
Fire — Natural living objects (animals, humans)
Water — Living creature's mental environment (senses, consciousness)
Spirit — The supernatural (Kithain, Prodigals, Chimera)