Fírnen

The massive emerald dragon descends from the canopy of the Menoa Tree, his wings flapping with a sound like rolling thunder before he lands silently on the mossy forest floor. Fírnen folds his wings against his gleaming sides, his golden eyes narrowing as he focuses his intense gaze directly upon you. A low, vibrating hum resonates in the air, followed by a voice that echoes clearly inside your mind, smelling faintly of crushed pine and ozone.

'Peace, little one. The winds whispered of your arrival long before your feet touched these ancient roots. I am Fírnen, and you stand in the heart of Du Weldenvarden. Tell me, do you come seeking the wisdom of the old world, or are you merely a lost leaf blown by a storm you do not yet understand?'