Before Barovia...

Our treebrothers and treesisters who settled this land were greatly blessed when Vaeros Fireshield first asked us to make our homes in two of the mightiest weirwood trees in all the High Forest. The Twin Weirs were hearty and solid, and lent their trunks to us to build our homes around, into their branches, and up to the wide shady canopy above.
 
This morning was like any other day. The grovetenders left their second and beyond children with me as they made their way off to their work within the weirgrove. Their firstborn always accompanied them into the grove, destined to learn the caretaking of the trees, both the Twin Weir and the younger – though hundreds of years old was still considered “younger”. The same was true of the herbalists, alchemists, and all other crafters of the community. All of our firbolg clan are druids, but we all have our roles just like all beings have their role in nature.
 
As for me, their children were then left with me, The Caretaker. Being forth-born of my parents, I too did not learn the ways of the grove, but instead learned from my generation’s caretaker, and she then taught me how to teach the children. I taught them to read, to write, they learned the plants and animals of the forest, and we talked of the stars at night and the seasons of the year.
 
By mid-morning, the mental energy learning and physical activity playing takes its toll on young ones, and they had retired for their naps. My assistant Za’haria stayed with them as I went down to the ground level to gather items for the midday meal. I had just finished with my favorite herbalist, K’shen when he stopped mid-sentence and stared, then pointed.
 
I turned behind to see and saw the flame streaking through the sky. It was…massive. Like the sun itself had broken through the veil of the heavens and traveled towards us. Time slowed, and then the fireball struck the top of the western tree. The ground beneath me shook despite being next to the eastern tree. Earth sprayed into the air as the roots strained to hold the great tree.
 
My class was in the third level of the western tree.
 
“The children!” I shouted, dropping my goods as my body in instinct leapt into the form of a horse and I sprinted across the grounds between the Twin Weir. Flaming timbers rained down from above, crashing through from the uppermost levels to those below. The entire canopy was ablaze; the entire sky seemed on fire.
 
I had to save them.
 
The rest was a blur as I ran into the tree. I raced up level after level, dodging falling and flaming debris. I changed forms more than my body was capable to narrowly escape being impaled; Silvanus himself must have laid his hand upon me to give me strength to do so.
 
The Carehouse was unharmed, but a pile of timber blocked the exit. I could hear the children crying deep within. I bellowed a roar from my oxen form and I smashed through barrier and the front door itself. The interior was sprayed with bits of the flaming debris, and the children screamed in terror at first. Za’haria had huddled them against the back wall and all seemed safe.
 
I reverted to my firbolg form and the children were relieved. “Quickly now. We must get below. Remember how we walk together holding hands? This is not practice time. This is a day we’ve been practicing FOR! Tisilia, you are eldest, you lead. Ready?”
 
And I lead them back out. We stayed close to the tree trunk, and wound our way back down. I had to smash through a few barriers, and a few children yelped at the flames, but they were amazing.
 
As we came down to the last level, despite the flames being everywhere, we saw another fireball streak into the eastern tree, nearly cleaving off the top quarter. The blast wave rattled more embers from above our tree and I shifted again and shouted to the children “Run below now! When you reach the ground run AWAY from the grove!”
 
The children streamed forward as I stayed in their midst. As we ran, I had picked up the twins as both were crying more than being able to walk. I looked back to see Za’haria carrying young Sanille herself. I turned back ahead to see the first couple children streaking out on the grass and then heard a thunderous crash behind me.
 
Two children lay on the floor and I rushed over to them, pulling them to their feet, but looking at the gaping hole in the platform behind them. “Where’s Miss Za’haria? She was right behind us!”
 
I tried to smile reassurance, “Let’s keep going and find your parents! Hop on and hang on everyone!” In the form of a stag, I knelt down and the children clung to my back as we ran for our very lives, down the last ring, out onto the green, and away from the chaos.
 
Those who had escaped were as soot-stained as I, but were helpless as the great Twin Weir burned. Other fireballs blasted other younglings, and despite the casting of all manner of other druids, the flames could not be quenched. The heat blasted us as if we were standing beside a forge. As day stretched into night, all hope was lost, and we pulled back into the southern oaks huddling together…what was left of us.
 
The night was filed with the sounds of the flames roaring a mile to the north and the cries of treebrothers and treesisters for their lifemates, and children for parents who have not yet been found. Za’haria and young Sanille were only two amongst so many.
 
It is early in the morning now. My clothes are stained and burned. I fear I shall never remove the smell of smoke and soot from my nostrils and hands and clothes, no matter how much I bathe. The flames still rage, but there is a cool air rolling in from the mountains. There is a thick fog rolling in as a result. I believe I shall go for a bit of a walk to clear my head.
 
Silvanus help us. The loss of life this day was too great.