A race of tiny beings who inhabit the far western reaches of Kythandria, keeping to the moors. They are an interesting race, cousin to the faerie. In fact legends say the sylph race began when a mischevious fay tricked a human prince to bed her by impersonating the prince's bride to be. The result is the most curious of races in the land.
Slightly larger than the typical fay, sylphs are tiny dragonflies to the faerie's gentler butterfly. Startingly beautiful, sylphs have thin elfin faces, luminiscent white skin, long narrow silver-green or silver-blue eyes, upturned noses and malicious smiles. Transparent gossamer wings sprout out of a thin back, wings so fragile and fast they make a slight humming sound when she beats them.
Unlike their cousin the fae, sylphs must mate to reproduce and as all Sylphs are born female they must continually look for other races to mate with, usually using their charm, cold beauty and their strong magic to deceive and beguile. Strangely, all sylphs children though no matter who the father will eventually grow to look like a sylph, inheriting no trait from their father at all. Fidelity is not known to the sylph and she will usually leave her yearning man when she tires of him, and she usually tires quickly. Sylphs are also incredibly infertile, which is fortunate considering their lust. Of hundreds of mating, a sylph will usually produce no more than two children in her lifetime.
Sylphs are fascinating social creatures, specially to the menfolk of any race, though their constant desire to mate with any male they see keep them in fierce competition with each other so they form no society. Even their own children are abandoned and despised once they become old enough to become a challenger for a man's affection. They are fervent believers of Kyron and Jazryth, from whom they derive their magic.