Denfa Rivermoss heard The Great Old Ones in his sleep. He could feel their enormous branches as they swayed in the wind and he could feel the dirt that their roots clutched onto. Wood elves of The Great Woodlands were always connected to The Great Old Ones, that is true but, for Denfa, it was more.
Wood elves have signs of the wood that are obvious, the leaves and vines that grow in an and around their heads, but, for Denfa, that was just the beginning.
The first time the bark appeared on his body, there was blood pouring from his mouth. Ghenel had punched him square in the face and all because he thought that Denfa looked at him ‘funny.’ He was a bully that revelled in bullying.
Denfa fell to the ground, saw the blood spill from his mouth, onto the ground and onto his hands that were starting to get covered in bark. As Denfa’s rage swelled, so did his size, his physique.
He balled up his fist, looked at Ghenel, who stared at him dumbfounded, and released his hardened fist. Ghenel went flying and never moved again.
Denfa ran, guilt overtook him as his form returned to normal. He never saw his home of Mystgrove again. Since then, he has tried to atone for his sin by doing good whenever he can but his … other side, his connection to The Great Old Ones does occasionally appear. Sometimes for good. Sometimes for not.