Callybons are the forgotten whispers of the deep woods, forest gnomes whose lineage has been stretched thin by centuries of fey enchantment. Once indistinguishable from their kin, they have grown smaller and more erratic, their skin taking on the texture of dried lichen and their voices sounding like the snap of dry twigs. They often dwell where the Border Ethereal thins, acting as unintentional conduits for the Feywild’s more fickle, draining energies. These diminutive wanderers are governed by a mournful silence. They inhabit the hollows of ancient stumps, tending to groves of ghost-white fungi that bloom only in the presence of sorrow. While they lack the malice of redcaps, a Callybon’s presence is a harbinger of stagnation; where they settle, the wind ceases to blow and wildlife falls into a dreamless slumber. They are collectors of lost things—buttons, broken teeth, and discarded secrets—which they bury in shallow graves to "keep them from catching cold." A traveler might find a Callybon sitting upon a milestone, offering a tarnished coin for a story never before told. To accept the bargain is a gamble; the stolen story often vanishes from the teller’s mind forever, leaving only a hollow ache where a cherished memory once resided.