Background: Sylvan Elves Druid

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  • Sylvan Elves Druid

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    To see a sylvan sorceress at work is to risk losing one’s heart. The
    way they move, the sounds they make, these memories will haunt
    my dreams to the end of my days. From gently weaving the trees around
    them into shapes and forms limited only by their imagination, to summoning
    the fury of a mother bear defending her cubs, there are few
    who can match their skill.
    Other spells at their command will confound an intruder, invade his
    mind and make him hallucinate, driving some to suicide or worse.
    Those lucky enough to enter a web of lesser enchantments will merely
    perceive the passage of time at a much slower rate and believe days or
    weeks have passed instead of hours. Myriad are the sorcerous dangers
    lurking on the approaches to elven groves, with these tales and more
    whispered to me by the lost children.
    But the true power of these forest wizards lies in the charms they cast
    upon the lands in which they dwell. Spells older than time stop the
    passage of the seasons in their glades and groves: pockets of eternal
    spring scattered through the forests of the world. In the heart of my
    first winter of captivity, during a long hunt, I was permitted to rest for
    a time in a clearing, watching snow falling from overcast skies, never
    reaching the warm, flower-strewn glade. Dumbfounded, I wondered
    how bountiful would be the harvests of Equitaine if our damsels possessed
    this knowledge. Yet such powers are not without danger and
    stories of eternal winter are used to warn the rash and callous from attempting
    to harness these secrets before their teacher’s approval.
    Yet the strangest power I came to know was performed by a sombre enchanter
    when time came to return to my captor’s court. Calling upon
    secrets bound to his kindred, he summoned a fog from nowhere, into
    which I was led. The sensation of walking through cloud was astonishing.
    I felt my feet leave the ground and all sense of orientation was
    lost. When next I felt earth beneath my feet, we had returned to Yshwythal,
    the Lord’s hall, a return journey of days accomplished in mere
    moments.

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