[Writing this, I hope readers remember our domain name: Taiwan Fiction Network, relieves boredom, t̆̈̆̈w̆̈̆̈k̆̈̆̈̆̈ă̈̆̈n̆̈̆̈.c̆̈̆̈ŏ̈̆̈m̆̈̆̈, waiting for you to find it.]
[Tang Qi's Ebony Forest Guide—the great bard Wozkeshode once said:
If you don't want to be hunted down by the most irritating collective in the world, sticking out like a wad of gum glued to the bottom of your shoe, then there are three things you'd best not touch lightly:
A Dwarf's heightening insoles, a noble's class system, and a druid's forest home.
Druids especially. I trust you won't want to deal with them.
Environmentalism, a love of nature, cherishing life—those stereotypical keywords sound lovely, don't they?
You can practically picture your friendly neighbor next door, Mrs. Green. She always advocates sorting rubbish, tends her garden until it looks like a fairyland, and even keeps several adorable Ragdoll cats. She often invites you over for apple pie and coffee.
But remember, she's merely a city dweller who loves nature, not a druid.
They are close to nature, not close to you.
Put aside those stereotypes about pacifists.
Believe me: those druid circles hidden away in forests, preaching nature and balance, are in most cases extraordinarily xenophobic, because they instinctively despise cities—those clustered fortresses piled from brick, stone, and steel, destroying nature's balance.
The more extreme among them even consider the druids of Dragon Gold City's Grave Land to be compromisers of nature, ranking them among the heretics.
What I mean is, druid circles are usually independent and scattered. The circle you met yesterday might invite you to join their unique festival, while the one you meet tomorrow may want to set your ass on fire with wildfire.
So when you're out and about, especially in a forest, you'd better keep your wits about you.
Don't do anything that might