Before the fey and long before people, were the Older. Nothing about them is truly known, but they have never left Mikelmerck. When the weather changes between dales or the land rolls strangely, the Older are restless. The Mikelmerckians barely think of them as beings, if they think of them at all. The Older are regarded as the land itself. "She's in reet bad frame," they may say of a hill producing an unexpected rockfall.
Scrivener Wainwright notes in Customs and Places that the Older are not worshipped exactly, but are propitiated by the love of the Mikelmerckians for their land. As so often with Wainwright, this is pure speculation, but the point is well made. Mikelmerckians as a whole are both possessive and defensive about their Duchy. Woe betide anyone not born there who speaks slightingly of it.