In the heart of the veiled jungle, where no map dares to reach and time flows like roots through ancient stone, there stands the Eldertree ā a towering, living relic from the dawn of the world. Its bark bears runes older than memory, and its leaves whisper truths only the wind understands.
Kaelātor is its warden ā not by birth, but by fate. Chosen by the spirits of the forest when he was but a child, he was raised beneath the Eldertreeās gaze, drinking from its wisdom and swearing an oath to protect it for as long as the stars remember the sky. The wolf-spirit Ashyr walks beside him, bound to his soul, a silent sentinel formed from moonlight and ancestral fire.