The Old Faith

Before the Divine Gate held the horrors of the Far Realm at bay, before wizards could unravel the Weave with the power of the arcane, before even the first magic-blooded sorcerer was born, there was The Green. A powerful system of soil and tree and blood, an ordered functioning of the chaos of the primordial world. When the first soul stepped foot in The Green, they were welcomed with open arms as a new part of the ecosystem, morphing into the first of the nature spirits that would soon spread through every inch of the world.   Then, the arrival of mortals changed the status quo. Stone was cut from the earth to build walls, hunters crafted their bows to slay beasts, farmers ripped up the earth to plant fields. The times of the Green’s ancient system were over, and it had to adapt. Dryads began to kill intruders in their groves, and Nymphs drowned anglers stealing their fish; the stones and boulders around farms trampled the fields. A war was brewing, and it was one that would ravage both The Green and mortal life alike.   What the spirits did not know was the truth of divinity among mortal cultures. When enough people believe in an entity, a sentience behind events like storms or manifestations like fire, something or someone is pulled in to fill the void. A mother stared down a wolf at the edge of her garden, placing her body between her children and the wolf’s penetrating eyes. She felt certain in that moment that no mindless beast would threaten her children, that something angry and violent spurred on the creature; divinity answered her fierce thoughts, in a way. According to the Circle of the Systers, the first sparks of divinity we now know as the Treemender were manifested in that wolf’s mind.   When it became wise enough to understand it existed, the fledgling god swelled with power, making itself known to both mortal and divine, claiming the Green as their domain. Now the systems of chaos and nature had a voice to protect them, and mortality knew to think twice before venturing into the woods. To the spirits of the Green, however, they saw her as not a god or queen, but as a fellow denizen of the system of life and death. It is this comfortable spot that she remains in to this day, only acting when she absolutely must and letting nature take its preferred course the test of the time.   Through the millenia, many circles began to form in the dark forests and hidden places of the natural world, dedicated not to the Treemender like a church worshipping a god, but to the minor spirits of the land. Dryad protectors of a nearby grove were often provided offerings of rare seeds and pinecones, small trinkets of civilization to amuse them. Nymphs were beseeched for permission to float down their rivers in boats or drink from their ponds. These practices survived wars and famine, times of conquest and times of peace; when people must leave a place for a time, eventually others will find a home there and continue making offerings in their place. Even those dedicated to “civilized” gods like the Starkeeper or Pyrelord are still wise enough to honor the Old Faith. Be it fae or spirit or elemental, there are many living in the hidden parts of The Green that still resent mortal life, and expect an offering to stay their hand.