The Silent War of Banewood

Though the Yv’anda are, by their very nature, a peaceful folk, the conflict between their generations casts a shadow over Banewood’s harmony. No blood has been shed, nor have arms been raised, but the rift has torn families apart and fractured trust. For us, such generational discord may seem natural—the young renouncing the ways of their elders in pursuit of their own paths. But for the Yv’anda, this is an unprecedented phenomenon, a wound as deep as it is new.

A Fractured Peace

Most Observers, steadfast in their traditionalism, are unwilling—or perhaps unable—to understand their youthful counterparts. They lay the blame squarely on the Kutauri, whom they see as disruptors of the peace that once defined Banewood. On occasion, Elder Kril will issue a notice, a rare call for unity among the Yv’anda. Even rarer are the Volunteers who risk their own feelings to bridge the chasm, attempting to heal the schism that divides their kin. Yet, despite these efforts, neither faction will openly support the other. A Volunteer injured during a raid, for instance, will find aid only among their peers.

The Delicate Balance of Harras and Harrat

The relationship between the Harras and Harrat Wing is equally precarious, though both groups are bound by an unspoken dependency. Communication is fragile, riddled with secrets and half-truths. The Harras, ever the protectors, often smuggle younglings from the Harrat Wing when it becomes clear they have bitten off more than they can chew. Conversely, feisty youth from the Harras sometimes flee their peaceful community, chasing dreams of bloody glory in the Harrat Wing. These deserters, unaware of the harsh reality awaiting them, often find themselves ensnared by the Wing’s brutal trials.

The Harrat Wing, for their part, cultivates an image of gallant heroes, champions of freedom battling against oppression. They hide their cruel methods from their peaceful brethren, perpetuating a romanticized vision of their cause. The Harras, in turn, maintain a wary silence, their efforts to save the lost often veiled in secrecy.

A Fragile Future

This web of tension and mistrust leaves Banewood’s future uncertain. The Yv’anda struggle to reconcile their ancient traditions with the changing world around them. The Kutauri, caught between two opposing philosophies, navigate a landscape fraught with peril and promise. And Banewood itself, the eternal witness to all, holds its breath, waiting to see whether unity or division will shape the days to come.

So, adventurer, if you find yourself wandering beneath The Oldest Tree, tread lightly. The conflict here is not one of open war but of hearts and minds. And though no swords are drawn, the wounds cut just as deep.

— Dorian Frostquill