The branch-crowned sylvari nodded. “Well met Dohar of the Noon. I am Niamh, Luminary of Noon and Firstborn protector of the Grove.” Niamh rested one of her hands on a sword on her hip. The weapon looked so natural on her that he had not noticed it at first. “You might not know what most of those titles mean, but I believe that will not be long.”
She was right, he did not know quite who he was facing, but the word ‘protector’ resonated with what he had seen in his Dream. So he relayed parts of his Dream, specifically when he had seen the creatures not of the forest, and how he had fought them. The atmosphere around him clearly changed. Most of the other sylvari seemed awed by what he had told them, while Niamh smiled, though now she also seemed wary. “Sounds like a Wyld Hunt indeed, though if you intend to simply hunt dragon minions your Hunt will be a very long one.” She pointed at a red-faced sylvari among the crowd, who bowed and stepped forward. “This is Grannoc. He will show you a place where you can live, as well as give you a tour of the places you need to know in the Grove. And when you’re settled, come to me at your earliest convenience. I wish to discuss your Dream.”
The last few days had felt endlessly long. Not that Dohar was bored, far from it. There was a never-ending amount of items and creatures new and wondrous to him. While he had a place to sleep and plenty of food in his quarters, he barely touched either, preferring to wander the Grove, to see all these wonders. The crafting halls that rang with the sounds of metalwork, carpentry and spinning whetstones. The kitchens throughout the Terrace and the Garden, some for various sylvaris own uses and some serving more varied groupings. The Order offices in the Garden, serving as recruiting houses and liaisons for the various orders operating around the Grove. There was so much to see that Dohar almost forgot about Niamh’s request. But only almost. The memories of his Dream were never far away. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the bow he had wielded. It had seemed a wondrous thing then, but now it seemed almost unreal. But before he had a chance to discover more about his Dream, its mysteries was not something he intended to dwell over-much upon. His mentor, who had spent the last few days teaching him all that their people had discovered about the world around them, had told him to go to a certain garden outside the confines of the Grove. Kihanni’s Confine was a small fenced garden northwest of the Grove, and one of the oldest sylvari settlements beyond the Mother Tree’s boughs. It supplied the growing population of the Grove with food, and in return the Wardens made sure that the Risen infesting Caledon never encroached too far. But as strong and valiant as the sylvari protectors were, the Risen were apparently endless. They had plagued their people almost since the Firstborn set foot in the Grove, and a more permanent solution to the problem they represented had yet to be found. He found his mentor, Larynna, conversing with an auburn-skinned sylvari clad in chainmail outside the thorny fences ringing the few gourd-like houses that made up the settlement. His mentor stood with 2 hunting bows strapped over her back, while her companion had both hands on the pommel of the large mallet planted in the soil. As he approached, the auburn one held a hand up to Lyranna and pointed at him silently. Lyranna turned around, her icy-blue frond-locks whipping about. She grinned and waved, then unslung the bows, resting each in one hand.