Role

Chapter 2

A loud clash rang through the peaceful air to make Ilanrion open his eyes
in an instant, searching for the danger that so often haunted his home in
the Holy Grove. A duergar was matching blades against a storm giant in a
close fight. His breathing settled as he realized they were so caught up
in their battle that they would not notice him nestled in a tree top. The
giant soon retreated, but the damage was done. Shattered glass from used
potions, pools of blood, and remnants of cloth and armor littered the
forest floor. Ilanrion soon saw the druids of the grove begin to clean up
the mess to restore the natural order. They had raised him since he was
left in the forest as a babe. He was taught to heal and nurture, but never
to harm.

His life was one of both quiet peace with sudden violence that was always
jarring. He had watched battle after battle, death rampaging through the
forest just because of an odd trapdoor that so many went through. Ilanrion
struggled to keep his heart at peace when the violence spread to the trees
he called home. He was young for a wood-elf and tried to still his heart
and follow their way, but his prayers were never touched by nature like
theirs did. They said it will come with time, but he began to wonder.