The people of Obojima — known as Feyfolk — are a proud and grounded people, shaped as much by the island beneath their feet as by the lives they have built upon it. They are not a warlike people, though not out of naivety; war has touched them, and its memory lingers. Most Feyfolk carry that grief quietly, and extend to strangers a cautious but genuine goodwill. This is not to say they are all good people — but most can generally be trusted.

Daily life is taken seriously here. Farming, crafting, fishing — these are not simply means to an end but a source of deep cultural pride. To tend the land is to know the island, and to know the island is to live well within it. The farmer is as honored as any leader, perhaps more so, for their work is honest and their connection to Obojima unbroken

Feyfolk come in two broad forms: those who resemble humans in shape, and those who carry the features of animals — fur, feathers, snouts, tails, and all manner of in-between. There is no divide between the two. Both are equal denizens of any faction, any village, any home. A family may contain both without remark, and neither is considered more or less Feyfolk for how they were born.

Among the stranger truths of Feyfolk life is the matter of aging. Some live long, slow lives; others burn through theirs in a fraction of the time. Heritage offers no explanation — siblings raised under the same roof have been separated by decades of difference in how they age. Attempts were made, long ago and shamefully, to breed the irregularity out. They yielded nothing. Today, the phenomenon is accepted simply as The Will of the Wisps, an acknowledgment that some knowledge simply belongs to Obojima. Though it is worth noting that rumor persists of certain factions still quietly seeking a cure.