Long ago, in an age when the world was still young and wild, there existed a druid known as the Green Warden. His name, whispered through the leaves of ancient trees and carried by the winds over countless hills, was Taranis Alverin. The Green Warden was a figure of mystery and legend, a guardian of the deep forests, rivers, and sacred groves. He was neither old nor young, for the magic that flowed through his veins and from the earth made him ageless, a being timeless as the very stones beneath the roots of the trees he nurtured.
Taranis was entrusted with the guardianship of all things natural, from the smallest seed to the tallest oak. He had the power to commune with the spirits of the forest, the animals, and even the elements themselves. However, it was said that his greatest power lay in his connection to the land's forgotten history. For Taranis, the trees whispered not only of the present but of the past, and through his dreams, the stars spoke of ancient cities lost to time.

The Nature Protector rises as a beacon of courage, his sword ready to defend the wild. With the sun shining brightly behind him, he embodies the enduring spirit and unfaltering strength of this magical realm.
One cold autumn evening, as the moon hung low and a pale mist crept across the land, a great disturbance echoed through the deep woods. The spirits of the forest, usually calm and serene, were in turmoil. Their cries reached the ears of Taranis, who, feeling the weight of this unrest, ventured to the ancient glade where the trees were oldest and their roots sank deep into the earth's heart.
There, an ancient stone circle stood, forgotten by most, save for the Green Warden. It was here that the spirits often gathered, and tonight, they were agitated. The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss, but it was something more - something ancient. As he approached, an ethereal figure rose from the shadows of the trees. It was the spirit of Orlanis, the Keeper of the Forgotten Paths.
"Great Warden," the spirit whispered, "there is a city that has been lost to time, swallowed by the earth itself. But its power is stirring once more, and with it, a great darkness is waking. We need you, Taranis, to find it and stop it before it spreads."
Taranis bowed his head. The Keeper of the Forgotten Paths had spoken of Velesir - a city that had vanished from all maps, its name erased from every scroll. Velesir was a city built by an ancient civilization, its people wise in magic and in harmony with nature. But greed and ambition led to their downfall, and the city, along with all its secrets, was consumed by the earth in a cataclysmic event, never to be seen again.
"The city slumbers beneath the roots of the earth, hidden from all who seek it," Orlanis continued. "Its magic is waking, and with it, a terrible curse. You must find it, Taranis, and silence the power that lies within."
The Green Warden's heart sank. His knowledge of ancient magic told him that such power, once awakened, would be nearly impossible to contain. But he was bound by his oath to protect the balance of the world, no matter the cost.
Without a word, Taranis set forth on his journey. He called upon the forest to guide him, and the trees whispered of paths long forgotten. The winds spoke of distant mountains, and the rivers murmured of caves where shadows had lain undisturbed for millennia. With each step, Taranis felt the pull of Velesir's forgotten energy drawing him deeper into the wilds, toward the place where the city had once stood.
His journey took him to the heart of the Darkwood, a place where the sun never fully pierced the canopy. It was a land untouched by man, where creatures of the wild roamed free and the very air pulsed with magic. Here, in the depths of the forest, Taranis found the entrance to a hidden cavern - a labyrinth of tunnels carved by ancient hands.

Surrounded by an embracing mist, the Forest Shaman stands with his enchanted purple orb, weaving the magic of the forest into his presence while invoking its wisdom and serenity.
For days, he wandered through the winding passages, guided only by the flicker of his staff and the faint whispers of the earth beneath him. As he ventured deeper, the air grew heavier, charged with an unnatural energy. And then, on the seventh day, he stumbled upon it: a massive stone door, covered in moss and vines, inscribed with symbols that no living man could read.
The Green Warden knelt before the door, his hand brushing against the cool stone. The symbols seemed to come alive under his touch, shifting and changing, revealing glimpses of the city that lay beyond. Through the door, he could see the grand spires of Velesir, their tips reaching toward the heavens, and the streets lined with buildings made of marble, now cracked and overgrown with ivy. Yet, the beauty of the city was marred by an overwhelming sense of desolation.
With a final whisper of ancient words, the door groaned and slowly opened, revealing the lost city of Velesir in all its forgotten glory.
But as Taranis stepped into the city, he felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. The streets were empty, save for the statues of its once-great rulers, their faces frozen in eternal fear. The air was thick with the presence of something ancient and malevolent, something that had lingered in the shadows since the city's fall.
He moved through the city, following the pull of the magic that had awakened, leading him to the heart of the city - the Temple of the Verdant Flame. There, in the center of the temple, lay a crystal altar, pulsing with an otherworldly light. The altar contained the source of the city's downfall: the Heartstone, a powerful artifact that had once been used to draw the energy of the earth to fuel the city's magic.
But the Heartstone was now corrupted, its power twisted by the greed of those who had sought to control it. As Taranis approached, the Heartstone reacted to his presence, sending out waves of dark energy that shook the very foundations of the city.
With a deep breath, the Green Warden extended his staff, calling upon the primal forces of nature. The trees, the winds, the earth - everything responded. He channeled the full force of his connection to the land, focusing on the Heartstone, which pulsed with dark energy. It resisted, but Taranis was resolute. Slowly, with great effort, he began to purify the Heartstone, using the very essence of the forest and the earth to cleanse the corruption that had seeped into its core.

With a horned sword in hand, the Woodland Shaman stands as a bridge between light and shadow, his presence commanding the forces of nature in the cave's dim glow.
The struggle was fierce, but in the end, Taranis succeeded. The Heartstone's dark power shattered, and the city of Velesir, once consumed by greed and ambition, was freed from its curse. The energy of the land returned to a state of balance, and the city, though lost to time, would no longer haunt the world with its dangerous magic.
The Green Warden left Velesir behind, knowing that its secrets were safe once again. But the lessons of the lost city remained etched in his heart: the dangers of seeking too much power, and the importance of living in harmony with the earth.
And so, the Green Warden vanished into the wilds once more, his legend growing with each passing year. The lost city of Velesir became but a whisper on the wind, a reminder of a time when magic and ambition brought a civilization to its knees.