#the fells

Magic suffuses the world and all things in it. Sometimes that elemental energy comes to rest in items, as we discussed last. Occasionally, those magical nodes are not metal or crystal, but living, thinking beings. There are more masters of magic in the world than just mortals.

I speak, of course, of the Natural Masters, also known as the Beasts of the Cycle. Creatures of tremendous skill that wield one of the five elements as intuitively as a wolf wields its fangs or a bear its claws.

All are intelligent, in their own fashion, and are often sought for their wisdom and ability… or as a means to test one’s own skill in the same art.

The Green – Dagfolk

(art by Dinwardo on twitter)

Celdos reveal, your grace.

To the north and east lays a land caught between rolling mountains and the storm tossed sea. A place of gray skies and mist shrouded forests and endless flowing rivers and springs.

This place is known as the Fells, and its people are called the Fellish, or the Felfolk. Since time immemorial they have dwelt in that ancient land. Even their tales cannot give a name to any home they had before it.

In its last century of life, the Empire launched numerous wars against once-friends. The Year of Burning Boughs. The Siege of Long Winter. But first and most ferocious of all was the Conquest of the Fells. Though it was never complete, the claws of the Empire raked deep furrows into flesh and bark.

Historically, the Fells was made up of twenty four or so realms. The borders and names change. Some have kings. Others princes or chieftains. Some are confederacies of tribes pulled together by common bonds. These realms fought each other as much as any outsider.

Currently, a third of these realms are occupied in some way by Magnians. Some have been fully colonized; others are ruled by the Marcher Kings, formerly the lords of the Empire’s borders.

Culture varies wildly across such a space, but there are constants to the churning chaos. All Fellish realms recognize the bard and the druid as cultural touchstones. The terms may be foreign, but they describe something known.

Bards are Mind mages and keepers of lore and songs. It is said that poetry sings in Fellish blood like no other and bards are the greatest proof of this. They travel the Fells, bringing news to distant corners and being gladly fed and housed by all, from the lowest peasant to kingly halls.

Druids are Green mages who barter and bargain with Green spirits on behalf of the Fellish people. Any village worthy of the name has a druid to attend to it. Some watch over the beasts of the wilds; others ensure the health of a region. Their wisdom is considered sacrosanct, scorned only by fools.

Abroad, the Felfolk are known for the crafts of loom and woodcarving, most of all the latter. When a great tree falls, it is considered a solemn duty to ensure that none of its beauty leaves the world and so great care is given to ensure its wood is used in gorgeous words. Fellish lutes, harps, and flutes are some of the finest on the continent for this reason – as well as their great war bows.

We could spend a year and a day in study of the Fells, but the candle draws short now.

Celdos guide you

(art by @stealingpotatoes)

The people of the Fells, the Felfolk, are renown for two arts. The first is poetry – the bardic tradition finds its roots in the misty woods of the Fells and the only minstrels properly called a Bard are Fellish.

The second is woodworking. The trees are ancient and beautiful, and carvers take care to make every plundered branch or fallen tree into something as gorgeous, so that no net beauty is lost in the world.

Lona is a wood carver of some renown within the Fells. Oak and beech, yew and juniper, elder and silver birch – she knows the trees of her homeland down to their very grain. The crwths of bards, proposal spoons for lovers, carved idols placed upon Dagwos’s altars. All these and more she has crafted with hand and knife.

(art by dinwardo on twitter) More than the races of Men and Elves make their homes in the ancient woodlands. Among them, tending to the forests like shepherds to a flock, are the first born children of Dagma the Sapfather. They take the God of Plants name for their people – the Dagfolk, giants that resemble humanoid trees.

The Dagfolk often take the form of trees native to their birth groves. For Hynafwr Onnen, who sprouted in the mist-shrouded woods of the Fells, he takes the shape of a great Ash tree.

Hynafwr Onnen – Grandfather Ash in the Fellish tongue – is an elderly Dagfolk, renown for his far sight and sage wisdom. Well known locally, he often takes part in Fellish ceremonies and festivals, and bears the markings and totems to prove it.

Like all of his kind, he is strong in the ways of the Green and gladly takes on apprentices from local villages, druids seeking to deepen their bond with that which sprouts and spreads roots.

Among his students was the half-Kwaychan druid Aderyn, whom he saved from the wolf attack that slew her parents when she was a baby. It is unusual for anyone to start their tutelage so early, but Aderyn prospered under the boughs and branches of the Grandfather.