NPC: Vinroot the Treant's page

"Haruum, little one...you grief sharpens your words, but there is truth in them. Our frinds here have both courage, wisdom and strength, that much is certain." Vinroot puffs, gently laying a comforting gnarled fist on Fira's shoulder.

“Keep an eye out fer ambushes. These Fellnight bastards are sneaky, and the use the mist to their advantage. I don’t know what’s causin’ this infernal mist, but I know it flows outta the north river ravine, past where Devarre has his retreat. Yer kind refer ta the falls there as Dead Man’s Drop. Take care out there, and if ye find ta druid, tell 'im Ol' Vinroot is wardin' his trees. I recon' the good fey are fixin' to do somethin' 'bout this mess, and I'll see what I can do to help them.”

“A prison - aye, that's what the faengard is. The First World fey laid stones ta lock away one o’ their own — an evil queen and sorceress named Rhoswen, and those that served her. If ’n the faengard be broken, only one o’ the elder fey would know how ta mend it. Devarre might know more, though - that ol' druid takes a keen interest in the affairs of the First World for a human.”

"Yeh been fightin' those brambly spriggans? Runty little burrs! A blight on the land, they be! Their presence means the Fellnight fey broke free o’ the faengard barrin’ ’em from other planes. I can'nae leave my poor few remaining trees undefended while they chop and burn their way through the forest.”

Vinroot shakes a gnarled fist at the mist in defiance and booms: "YA HEAR ME, YEH NASTY LITTLE MISCREANTS...BEST RUN BACK INSIDE YOUR SHADOWY PRISON, LEST YEH WANNAE RIGHT ROUGH LESSON. OL' VINROOT AIN'T GONNA LET YAH TOUCH ANOTHER ONE OF HIS TREES, NOT ONE!"

“Hullo, little ones.I am Vinroot. A treant standin’ in this forest far longer than any other.” the treant replies, looking from one to the other.

He then reaches out and grabs hold of a nearby tree trunk, and lets himself slump to the ground in a loud, cracking thump. He sits leaning against the tree, letting out a long winded Haaaarrrrummmph.

"Thank you, young fellow, for letting me rest this old and tired trunk against yours. At least some of you are still standing." he mutters, seemingly to the tree he is sitting against. He then slowly focuses on the group again.

“Yer' lookin' for Devarre, eh? That druid communes with plenty o’ forest folk. He’d likely lend a hand. Findin’ him’s tricky, though. He made his home near a site o’ powerful sorcery. The dryads could prob’ly tell yuh where it be.”