Hear the rustling of countless trees, as the wind moves softly through the night. Granted protection from their Faerie Queen, withheld from mortal sight. Neither a beggar, nor a lord dares disturb their rest. Granted long ago to them, as a reward for passage to the west. Quietly they wait and long they pondering but a day for each passing year. Till at last they need must wake to still the great Fear. Dreams woven with threads of memory, tapestries of experience bound. Nights that pass beyond expectation in an immortal Faerie land. Voices singing of brook and stream, Naiads and Dryads gracefully abound. Elfin-like of beautiful mystery, living eternally in music’s sound. Deep under earth, miners mine, deep under mountain dwarfin hammers pound. Ancient folk, for untold years hidden, longing to hear natures sound. Now folk awaken from their sleep, their dreams scattering in dawns pale light. Rich, golden threads of tapestries fade; only to be rewoven in the night. When the Lady Sidhe of the house A'londral arrived, leaving behind family and a past she'd sooner forget, drawn by forces beyond the sundering she found the lands beware. Was this the end..or the begining of her quest? Who knew, but the lady bright of the hills deep beneath the mortal ken would stay a while. She has stayed, she has found so much within the wild hills. She has spent a lifetime creating dragonsbane, and carried that tradition here into a land rife with Dragons. Banemaker the Dragons call her. She hadn't had anything personal against them, it was a family tradition passed down. Though now the fight is personal, now she loves the Dragon Slayer. In scale armor one of eight suits, hers distinguished by a mithril Bane leaf upon the breast, she stands with him, ready to face what will come. For love, and for honor. For their child she carries.