In my setting, being a child is the safest possible state of being.
Forest gnomes are an uncommon playable race.
As such are beasts or Children of the Wood, "disney animals"
About Forest Gnomes and Children of the Woods
How far did civilization spread?
During the two centuries following the Great Troll Menace the territory of civilization as a whole more-or-less tripled. Now it oversees as much as one tenth of the mainland, and a good portion of the surrounding waters. These last few decades have spelled the end of the expansion, giving nature a well deserved resting period (Which will be short-lived, given the current speed and scope of technological advancement.).
What are the most recent spoils of the last great expansion?
The possibility of communication and coexistence with elven clans, given their aggressive, utterly xenophobic past a great achievement. The domestication of the hefty yet elusive land seals, providing cheap meat and sturdy leather to the populace. The near-complete integration of gnomes into civilization, quickly quadrupling the rate of literacy across the globe thanks to their adaptable, attentive and prolific nature. The tolerance of lesser cults into regions dominated by Earth or other major sects, giving rise to both economy, pilgrimages and wider supernatural defense capacity to cities. The wider spread of fire starter cases, giving wider recognition to the Glassblowers' Guild. Numerous spices, palatable plants, heavier road security and a 250% rise in populace, among many others.
Forest gnomes and urban gnomes, what's the difference?
Almost every village or larger settlement has a gnome community. They are sociable, keen eyed and studious, with only a few of them turning to knavery, even then to the likes of tax fraud and other intellectual kinds. Their almost-suspiciously quick integration and mixing lead to customs such as secondary doors installed into public buildings and stores, quarter-yearly night festivals honoring the great spirits of the wilds and a greater control of stray animals, to avoid unfortunate accidents.
Forest gnomes are those of their kind, that abstained from intermingling with civilization, retaining their exceedingly short stature, lack of one or more senses and the disability to be perceived by the same one/ones and a well accepted place among the bottom third of the food chain.
Examples:
If they're about 60 centimeters to a meter in height, has a healthy blush of life and waves at you from across the street with a crescent roll in hand, they are urban gnomes, or gnomes for short.
If you've accidentally stumbled into their village of oversized fly agarics, penny buns and parasol mushrooms, half of the 30 to 50 centimeter tall disheveled pale humanoids wrapped in tiny furs and you can only hear roughly half of them as they run away in utter panic, they are forest gnomes.
What happens to orphans and unfortunate little souls left to their own?
There is a rule older than humanoid intellect that every living thing tries its best to keep:
"NEVER HARM A CHILD."
Be it a fertilized egg at the bottom of a pond, a nest of squirrel pups left alone for a couple of hours, or a six year old living on the last shillings left by their good for nothing father or a handful of kids playing in the barn cheerfully, there is little to go wrong. Small crabs will dutifully keep the eggs free of muck, should they crawl nearby. A nearby bobcat will nurture the pups for sometime, even if its their very partner that pursues the mother squirrel through the woods in the meantime. Every few nights, the kid will hear the call of the woods, deep down knowing they promise a new life among their ranks. Even those wolves that plan to prey on the working mare inside the barn will postpone it a few hours, not to scare the kids inside. Its natural to nurture and protect a child, everyone knows that.
Should you hover your fingers above an egg, you will feel instinctive unease as you reach for a fertilized one, which you better place in a bush or under the nearest hen. Should a stray arrow during a siege against all odds struck a boy inside the castle's walls, the archer's hamstrings burst alongside a lively spray of blood and sinewy confetti as the very earth under their soles tears it open, faster than a blink. Should you in drunken folly hit a calf a few days too young dead with a mallet, by morning your family finds a withered husk infested by three-eyed rats and beakless crows. Its the worst of omens to harm a child, the world will take it's revenge.
Natural disasters can still hurt the young, but they have a higher chance to notice it beforehand. Diseases tend to struck kids, but their symptoms and duration diminish exponentially. Should humanoids be mindlessly incestuous, after a critical number of generation, not even divine protection can prevent birth defects and non-viable fetuses from turning up. Birth is by default quite harmless to the mother, and during pregnancy they share a much weaker protection than that of children's.
What happens to those children, that follow the call?
Should a miserable little soul follow the call of the wild, it will shortly reach the most beautiful sanctums of nature, nigh-invisible to civilized humanoids. Creeks trickling with crystal clean water, bushes with handful fruits unknown to science, deer, owl, giant moles and such giving lectures about spirituality, the woods and many more subjects. It will be a great shock, when after many months the kid realizes that before the call they didn't understand animal's language. Should their willpower prove weak, over the years they unknowingly warp into a creature of the land, filling holes in the stock of wildlife. The newly transmogrified kid will retain the ability to speak their former civilized language, and in a truly unsettling to obscure way the use of opposable thumbs even in their animal body. Should their willpower prove strong enough, their teachers will move them to the glades of druids to join their ever dwindling ranks, learning mystic arts and obscure skills forgotten by the civilized folks. The former slightly anthropomorphic animals are what we call the Children of the Woods.
Why I go that far with this cosmological absurdness?
I hate the sheer amount of backstories, novels and murderhoboing that deals with orphans being beaten up, fed to tyrannical soul sucking machines, used and abused in all the horrible way a moderately creative mind could come up with. I would like a world, were children can grow up safely. Sure, they can turn out to be rotten to the core, but in my views it surfaces only around puberty, when the personality solidifies more or less. I want the children to be safe, and to punish most harshly anyone who makes sport of roughing up their sort of the weak.
These ideas lead to the creation of the Children of the Woods, and to the universal rule of the setting that many angels keep up. Isn't it by biology' logic every creature's innermost wish that their children may live to maturity?
There logically comes the question: Why not use children as living childs? Go adventuring with kids on leashes or pregnant and so? It's quite an easy answer. Sooner or later, anyone who abuses the miraculous power of young animals will be maimed, tortured or killed rather messily by the least expected source. This effect can chain back at least twenty-six links in cause and effect, as studied by a now disbanded faction of mystics. discouraging the use of proxies.