Pietra - XERES LIVE!

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Basic Information

Full Name

Pietra

Nickname

The Forest's Own

Race (Grade)

Satyr (E)

Class

Druid

Height

5'4"

Birthday

Greenrise 20, 1276

Age

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Birthsign

The Radiant Treant

🩸

Bloodline Ability

🔮 Unknown

This Bloodline ability has not yet been unveiled to you.

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Physical Description

Pietra, somewhere between one tree and the next

Appearance

Pietra stands a small 5'4", light and quick on cloven hooves that rarely seem to bruise or tire no matter how far she's walked that day. A pair of short, softly curled horns rise from a mess of dark hair usually threaded through with whatever leaves or petals were nearby when she last tied it back, and her skin carries the faint dappled coloring of dense canopy shade. She dresses simply, in soft woven layers suited for walking rather than looking at, and rarely wears shoes of any kind, insisting the ground has more to say to bare feet than to boots.

Unique Characteristics

Birds land on Pietra's shoulders without any coaxing at all, butterflies gather loosely around her while she walks, and lost fawns have been known to follow her clear into a village before she gently returns them to a frantic mother waiting at the treeline. Travelers who mistake her easy warmth for innocence learn otherwise quickly: she has ended feuds without drawing blood and emptied entire poachers' camps simply by letting the forest itself answer their violence, roots overturning wagons, branches quietly hiding paths, whole hunting parties walking in slow circles until sunrise. She only ever smiles afterward and says the same thing every time: "The woods wished for you to leave."

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Personality & Temperament

Positive Traits

Genuinely, disarmingly kind to nearly everyone
Trusted almost instantly by animals and children
Patient in a way few mortal lives allow for
Resolves conflict without needing violence
Deeply loyal to any place she calls home

Challenging Traits

Restless if kept indoors for too many days
Cryptic when asked to explain her instincts
Unshakeably certain the forest speaks to her
Frightens threats off rather than warning them
Struggles to explain herself in plain words

The oldest trees never rushed toward the sky. They simply kept growing.

The woods wished for you to leave.

I did not choose this city. Something in it chose me, from very far away, and I have learned not to argue with that kind of certainty.

Likes

The sound of water slowly shaping stone
Planting a single acorn each spring
Reuniting a lost fawn with its mother
Resting a bare hand against old bark
Children who ask before touching an animal

Dislikes

Poachers who take more than they need
Being rushed toward a decision
Roofs that block the sound of rain
Being mistaken for merely innocent
Cut trees left where they fell

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Background & History

Beneath the Emerald Canopy

Pietra was born beneath the ancient canopy surrounding Er'Amon, in a stretch of forest the elves of that pilgrim city call the Forgotten Woods and she has only ever known, in her own heart, as the Elderwilds. She grew up where rivers chose their own paths, where flowers bloomed in colors that had no names, and where every ancient oak carried a story older than any kingdom nearby. While other young satyrs danced beneath the moon until sunrise, Pietra wandered instead, speaking with passing druids, learning the songs of birds, watching foxes raise their young, sitting beside streams for hours just to listen to water shape stone.

A Forest That Welcomed Her

By the time Pietra reached adulthood, she knew every trail through the Elderwilds, not because she had ever set out to memorize them, but because the forest itself seemed to welcome her wherever she walked. It was in these years that her particular gift for the woods became impossible to ignore: roots that shifted for her, branches that parted, and, when the forest judged someone unwelcome, roots and branches that did considerably less pleasant things instead. She never asked for the forest's cooperation. It was simply given.

A Pull From Far Away

Pietra cannot fully explain what happened, only that one morning, sitting beside a familiar stream in the Elderwilds, she felt an unmistakable pull toward somewhere she had never been: a town called Silmarithil, impossibly distant, tugging at her the way a root tugs toward water. She has felt the forest speak to her in smaller ways her whole life. She had never felt anything speak to her across that kind of distance before. She left within days, trusting the certainty the way she has always trusted the certainties the woods give her, and has not yet worked out why Silmarithil, of every place in Xeres, was the one calling her name.

Arriving Beneath New Trees

She arrived in Silmarithil to find a town built into and around its own living canopy, close enough in spirit to the Elderwilds that the pull that brought her quieted, at least for now, into something more like contentment. She has spent her first weeks walking every trail she can find, introducing herself to the oldest trees the way she always does, one bare hand against the bark, and has already returned three lost fawns to worried mothers at the town's edge, much to the delight of every child who tagged along to watch.

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Goals & Aspirations

Whatever Called Her

Pietra intends to find out, eventually, what actually drew her to Silmarithil from so impossibly far away. She has begun greeting the town's oldest trees one at a time, hand against bark, listening the way she always has, certain that whatever called her here will make itself known when it's ready and not a moment sooner.

The First Acorn

Every spring, Pietra plants a single acorn wherever she has lived, and never marks the spot, trusting she'll find it again when it's grown. She has not yet decided where in Silmarithil this year's acorn will go, though she has a few oaks in mind that she keeps returning to visit, as if asking their opinion.

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Current Status & Relationships

Residence

Silmarithil

Role

Wandering Druid

Key Relationships

ATTENTION!

Pietra's gentleness is real, but so is the forest that answers when she needs it to. She has emptied poachers' camps and turned back armed hunting parties without ever raising a hand herself, letting roots, branches, and disoriented terrain do the arguing instead. She holds no grudge and starts no fights, but anyone who threatens the woods, or the animals and children within them, should not mistake her calm for an absence of teeth.