Draíocht na Máthar Fiáine

Druidic words inked upon large leaves of a great oak, hard but frail and easily snapped, the leaves are protected with a wooden tome and spine engraved with druidic sigils and a circular pattern representing the Feywilds and a druidic circle unlike those known upon the Sword Coast.

Completed by Perven
''Everything we know. Everything we have ever been. The power granted to us through the earth and the elements, it all comes from a single place, where Archfey hold court and magical creatures roam free. A place of light and darkness, not so strange from the material plane. The Wildmother was the mother of us all, her grace protected the planes of man and fey, until her children squabbled and warred, placing the misery of each other over the divine protection their mother had bequeathed them upon their genesis.''

''Just as a mother guides her flock, guides her children, there are those who fight back, battle against their matron and seek their autonomy, breaking free from the shadows of their mother. And what shadow can be cast wider than that of the Goddess of the Fey, the Mother of the Wilds and protector of the natural order of the worlds. Insolent children, bickering and fighting, narcissism dominating their very essence and soul. And who should suffer as Archfey quarrel... it is always the children. The children of the Feywilds and the Prime, a mother's struggle to raise children to be proud of and keep them in line. Yet still, maternal instincts run stronger than the wisdom of divinity it seems. When children misbehave they must be punished, to be reformed and behave in the manner of their maker.''

''And yet, her love blinded and defended them against a necessary discipline. The children grew more wild, seeking power beyond the courts that they held. It was not enough for the arrogance of the Archfey. Little by little, they drained and depleted their mother of her power. Claiming the very lands she was bound to protect, and with every tree, plant, and creature that they claimed, the virtue of the Wild One bent and broke, until she was nothing more than the words written upon these leaves. The Circle of the Fey serve the Wild Mother, the Circle of the Fey serve the natural order of the worlds, the Circle of the Fey shall undo the machinations of the Archfey's bairns. When all return in worship to the rightful ruler of the wood and wilds, the power of our great mother shall return. We are not the offspring of her blood and divinity, but we shall serve the Wild Mother and succeed where her children had failed.''

''The Watcher of the Forest, the arrogant trickster, who laughs and revels in the misery of others. None more so than his own kin and blood, howling with pleasure as his mother's ever failing power. Snickering as his siblings wage war upon each other, forgetting their purpose to embolden their mother and god.''

''The Silent Sister, whose forests make no whispers, for the only words spoken are mothers of the forest, the Hags of the Feywilds, their tongues ripped out so their lands suffer no noise. No birds shall chirp and sing, no melodies called and cried. Only the silence that comes with the absence of life. And yet, she manipulates the minds of her followers, to them she is no mother of hags, but a divine beauty and effigy of perfection. Seducing the hearts of man, for only the weak shall die for beauty. But none of sane mind can look into the heart of darkness and call it perfection.''

''The Prince of Pests, not a name he chose of approves of, but the once to which he shall be named. The Autarchfey. Recaps, Meenlocks and vermin of the Feywilds follow his words of brutality. One who chooses the path of power through his growing dominion. No tricks or manipulation, but the brute strength and venomous strikes of his of pests. The Prince of Pests seeks only the destruction of his family to see his dominion and power grow.''

''The last of the Wildmother's magic lays within the Beith Ailm Grove. The Seed of Kaarin shall light the way.''

And I shall keep it safe.