The Reshi

Tawny-furred, night-eyed caravan folk who came up the southern roads with the salt and the silk and never quite left. They keep the long roads and the quiet trade, and see in the dark by birth.

The Reshi are road-blood — generations of caravaneers, drovers, and quiet fences who measure a place by how the trade runs through it. Their fur ranges sand to soot, their eyes catch the least light and throw it back gold, and a Reshi walks a black barrow or a moonless road as easily as a settler walks a lit street. They keep the Wandering Cups' circuit and the Driftmarket stalls, and the Finders prefer their discretion. Settled folk prize them as scouts and distrust them as thieves in the same breath — usually unfairly, occasionally not. They take settled names and warm rooms easily and keep their own counsel under both.