Observers of Banewood
If you’ve heard the ancient whispers of Banewood, you’ll know of the Observers, those steadfast guardians of tradition who cling to the past like roots to the soil. They consider themselves the truest Dryads, protectors of their God-given purpose—to remember. Their dwellings, humble hoks and dug-outs nestled near the Oldest Tree, reflect their unshakable devotion to simplicity. It is here, in the Clearing of the Oldest Tree, that the Observers stand watch, their lives a testament to the power of memory.
The Observers rarely engage with the outside world, save for the occasional trade of goods and information. Even then, they avoid the trappings of “new technologies” or "inventions" embraced by their counterparts. To them, progress is a disruption, a fracture in the sacred duty to preserve what was. Among their ranks dwell the Ancient Dryads, whose wisdom spans countless ages. These beings are reluctant to share their knowledge, though they may make an exception for those who bring them memories they do not yet possess.
The Sacred Clearing
Should you ever dare to enter the Clearing of the Oldest Tree, be prepared for a reception as cold as the winds that sweep through the forest. The Observers do not welcome intruders lightly, and one would do well to approach with reverence. The ancient beings who protect this hallowed ground are not to be trifled with. Disrespect could lead to a swift and brutal end. For those who seek favour, remember this simple prayer, a greeting that speaks to the heart of the Dryads:
"May your branches reach the Gods and your roots grow deep with history."
The Exchange of Mind and Memory
Though I have only glimpsed this ritual from afar, there is a way by which the Dryads commune with the Oldest Tree. They offer their minds in exchange for memories, a sacred act of devotion. Among the wise folk I’ve consulted, theories abound. Some say the older the memory, the greater the sacrifice required. Others whisper of Dryads and even Kutauri who have lost themselves entirely to the roots of the Tree. Whatever the truth, all agree on one thing: where magic is involved, the price is always steep.
So, adventurer, should you find yourself at the foot of the Oldest Tree, tread with care. The Observers are not mere keepers of lore; they are the soul of Banewood, an enduring reminder that some things are worth preserving, no matter the cost.
The Sacrifice
Observers still diligently follow their ancient traditions, among which is the Sacrifice. Yv’vanda who witnessed historical events or have gathered knowledge or secrets that are best left buried under the Tree, give up their memories—and themselves. I do not know the exact words of the ritual, for I have only heard of it in passing, but the Sacrifice’s face etches itself into the bark of the Tree at the end of the ceremony. The Yv’anda then gather around them and sing until the morning. The Sacrifice wakes with the first rays of sunshine, a blank slate, open to experiencing the world for the first time. It is said that to access the knowledge guarded by the Sacrifice, one has to, pardon the pun, face them first.
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