This is the story of a race of living catalysts.
So very many years ago, the gods created different races of a fantasy in a newly made world. They armed them with knowledge and faith in hopes that something interesting might happen. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for the people, these new peoples were instilled with just enough sense in them to see the pointless damage that conflict out of racial intolerance would bring them and instead opted to celebrate their different strengths to make their world better.
The gods baffled by this left them to their devices at first, telling themselves that it can't last and that someone somewhere will fuck things up for the rest, but centuries and millenia pass and this world of theirs had united itself into a utopia unlike any other the gods had seen before.
Some in the pantheon were moved by their achievements while others balked at the mortals doing so well but whatever disagreements they had between themselves they all still agreed on one thing - the world needed to see change. As peaceful and prosperous the world had become, it had also remained stagnant and bereft of innovation for far too long. A still world, no matter how peaceful was not acceptable to them.
That's when the resdent god of mischief suggested to them a new way forward. They'd create a new race of shapeshifters and mindreaders to move things along. This new inclusion into the world would seek out people with brilliance hidden them and push them to action for the sake of disruption.
If a scholar felt unfulfilled, they'd convince him to speak out. If a village felt unrewarded, they'd have them raise arms for more. If a faith lacked faith, they'd give them new miracles to devote their zeal to. No idea, cause or outrage could ever be beneath them. So long as it pulled at and stirred up the people, this new race would lay out their most tempting lures and get something to bite.