Neliana Whitewood stands defiantly in the merchant’s quarters of the border city of Fréseau, unconcerned about the curious looks the locals are casting her way. Most of them have never seen a druid before, and here she stands in broad daylight, a crown of ivy and aster upon her brow and a willow staff in her hand, glaring up at the towering guildhall.

To Neliana, Fréseau is a symbol of everything wrong with the kingdom of Alamandria: civilization taking over the ancient forests like an invasive weed until wild animals had no choice but to prowl into villages in search of food.

And then the villagers had the audacity to blame the animals!

When King Galasconde had married the fairy woman Lyndrine, Neliana had hoped the blight would be — if not undone —at least halted. But it was now all too apparent that Queen Lyndrine wielded no influence over Galasconde.

And so it is up to the druids, such as Neliana, to defend Nature against the powers of commerce and industry.

Clutching her staff in one hand, Neliana narrows her eyes in concentration. Vines burst from the windows of the guildhalll. The trees lining the streets suddenly shoot towards the sky, their roots cracking the cobblestone as they grow.