_Its eyes gleam like polished walnuts, and its sly smile seems oddly placed on the tiny body, covered in spikes and thorns. The creature’s waist is no thicker than a clenched fist, and its sinuous arms are no wider than a finger but twice the length of its body._ **Born of Magic.** Children of the briar are a frequent nuisance to fey and mortal alike. They grow in deep briar patches in forest clearings or along sunny hillsides and riverbanks. More rarely, they spawn when a sorcerer or magical creature’s blood is spilled on the forest floor, or when summoned into being by obscure druidic items of power. **Thorn Fortresses.** Despite their size, children of the briar gather in great numbers, cultivating ancient forest thickets into veritable fortresses. Wise men flee when they hear their clicking language in the underbrush, for the children have all the capricious wickedness of spiteful children and a taste for blood. **Spies and Scouts.** From their lairs, the children of the briar creep far and wide to spy on the forest’s inhabitants, sometimes using spiders, monstrous centipedes, and giant dragonflies as mounts. They converse with travelers bearing interesting news, but their words are thorned with gleeful malice, jealous bile, and lies. They are not above murder. They trade news and gossip for trinkets, favors, and drops of spilled blood. The fey have long used the children of the briar as spies and informants, and the power of the Otherworld now courses through their veins, allowing them to work simple magical tricks and slip between the mortal and faerie realms with relative ease.