Oak Father, the Forest Father, the Old Oak, Treefather Status: Greater deity Alignment: Neutral Portfolio: Wild nature, druids
Mielikki
Our Lady of the Forest, the Forest Queen, the Supreme Ranger, Daughter to Silvanus Status: Intermediate deity Alignment: Neutral good Portfolio: Forest, forest creatures, rangers, dryads, autumn
Eldath
Goddess of Singing Waters, the Quiet One, the Green Goddess Status: Lesser deity Alignment: Neutral good Portfolio: Quiet places, springs, pools, stillness, peace, waterfalls, druid groves
The Green Triad
Many followers of Silvanus, Mielikki, and Eldath offer prayers to the others, and their respective churches have long maintained strong ties, often working closely and lovingly together in their common pursuit to protect nature. These ties have historically been informal, focusing on shared long-term goals in a region. However, there are small followings that formally venerate the entire ‘Green Triad’ and seek to increase the existing partnership and cooperation between the faiths.
***This thread is open to any and all partaking in Silvanite, Mielikkian, or Eldathyn roleplay***
While the posts in this thread would not be considered public knowledge, it rather provides an opportunity for individuals to observe some tree hugging RP!
Last edited by BarBearian on Tue Apr 14, 2026 11:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
As Deepwinter set in on the Sword Coast, a dark green cloaked figure visited each shrine of the Green Triad, offering prayers to their respective patrons to mark the new year.
“Green Goddess, may this land.. its people.. find peace and calm.”
“Forest Queen, help your servants protect the Forest from the ignorance and evil that seeks to destroy it.”
“Oakfather, bestow upon us your gentle blessings.. allow the land to heal and may it be brought into the sacred Balance.”
As his words faded at the final shrine, he slowly drew a plain wooden spoon from his pocket. Raising it before him, he closed his fist suddenly and forcefully, snapping the spoon in several places. He knelt to make shallow hole in the ground, placed the broken pieces within, and carefully repacked the soil.
Standing in the frosted glade, his was heart unsure of the task requested of him. As doubt slowly crept in, his hand instinctively slipped down to the oakleaf holy symbol at his hip. Unsure whether the hamadryad could be trusted given the state of her sanctuary, he set about Communing with his patron for guidance. He had never attempted it himself, having only ever been witness to the incantation, but he felt compelled to seek the Oakfather’s guidance.
As he finished his soft chanting, he raised his holy symbol to his mouth and softly whispered to it. After a few quick heartbeats, the Oakfather answered:
Doubt and worry vanished: the ritual must proceed to keep the Balance.
With ritual concluded and companions safely returned to the grove, they relayed the sad news of the dryad’s sacrifice. The Song Among the Reeds will not be forgotten, not as long as there was breath in his lungs. Her story will live on in his heart and in his prayers until the Oakfather finds her once more in his gentle embrace…
Ilir stepped out of the Glimmerwood and made his way to the Silvanite shrine on the nearby hill. Standing before the statue, he exhaled softly. A hint of nerves evident in his shaky breath. Even though he had recently Communed with his patron, the gravity of what he was about to undertake and request was certainly not lost on him. He waited several minutes to settle himself and collect his thoughts, then he began the ceremonial chanting. When the spell was complete, the leaves swirled suddenly about the shrine: it was clear the Oakfather was listening.
He spoke his questions softly and patiently, awaiting each reply with quiet anticipation. As the ceremony concluded, he let out a heavy breath. More questions remained than answers given. He also could not shake the feeling that he had perhaps exchanged one burden for a far heavier one.
The Leafwarden had only a few moments to contemplate what had transpired before soft-padded footsteps approaching reached his ears. Upon recognition, he knelt and offered the back of his hand, which the sleek black panther graciously nuzzled against.
In the shadow of the Silvanite shrine, the two spoke quietly as the man gently scratched the animal along its neck and behind its ears.
When the conversation concluded, Shadowleaf disappeared beneath the moonlight and Ilir rose and moved once more toward the shrine, removing a wooden lute from his pack. He set it on the ground, then carefully dug a hole of similar size. When finished, he produced a smaller, one-handed maul from the same pack. With a quick, single strike, the wooden instrument shattered into a half-dozen pieces, which he quickly but carefully shifted into the hole with the back of his hand. After delicately repacking the soil, the man turned and made his way north along the Trade Way, his stride swift and purposeful.
///Thank you to the DM Team for their patience and support on this request, and a huge thank you to DM Ghost for concluding it in such a meaningful way <3
Day in and day out over the last several weeks, the Leafwarden (who was noticeably absent from recent festivals, festivities, and firework shows), with an elder earth elemental in tow, has been seen in what remains of Triel’s village. Working outward from the Threefold’s Aegis, the church that was divinely protected from the Hellfire Wyrms’s destruction, the elemental can be observed systematically tilling the burnt layer of ground. Any debris or wreckage is carefully moved (or as carefully as a large elemental made of stone and dirt can move it) into smaller piles away from the pathways for later removal. In the elemental’s wake, the green hooded man holds his oakleaf holy symbol, chanting benedictions to the Green Triad and consecrating the freshly tilled ground. Whenever the elemental slowly sinks back into the earth from which it was called, the Leafwarden quickly beseeches the Green Triad to provide him another, which rises from the ground in a similar manner to how the previous disappeared. This daily pattern continues from sunrise to well after the sun sets until it is clear the man can continue no further, sleep and nourishment can only be delayed so long when undertaking such demanding physical and mental labor. When time comes to seek respite, he can be seen heading north towards the Eldathyn grove in the Reaching. Before dawn of the next day, he reappears in the village once more and the work begins anew…
Any curious visitors are only offered sparring words before he quickly returns back to his task. Those known to Ilir are offered a weak, soft smile in greeting. Though, behind his weary eyes, it’s evident he genuinely appreciates the conversations, no matter the length. If asked why he toils with this task so diligently, even perhaps to the detriment of his own health and well-being, his answer is firm and solemn:
“Out of the kindness of a few’s hearts, I was offered a home and community here when I was in search of such comforts. I did not have the opportunity to aid in the rebuilding of this place the last time it met similar fate, but I have the privilege of repaying the kindness shown to me in helping restore it to where it belongs.”
There would have been a much different type of work being undertaken at present had the village not suffered the infernal breath of the Hellfire Wyrm, and more than once during his daily pattern of diligent clean up, the man’s mind couldn’t help but daydream. Moving farming equipment to nearby fields in preparation for tilling and planting, stringing hunting bows and fletching arrows, determining the appropriate crop rotations for the year, and tracking the latest movement of game animals… there was much that would have needed to be done to assist the villagers for the thaw of spring, work he would have far preferred to be undertaking than his current tasks. But as quickly as such thoughts came, he banishes them knowing that one day he will do just that for those villagers who return.
During the last few weeks of diligent clean up in Triel, a migrating woodsman passed through and noticed the destruction left from the Hellfire Wyrm. The woodsman paused briefly to observe the ashen village, taking note of the reconstruction work being undertaken by a green hooded man. While doing so, he noticed the holy symbol oft seen at the other man’s hip. He asked, rather pointedly, why a Silvanite would assist in rebuilding even a small pocket of civilization and not let the Oakfather reclaim the land.
“I am of the whole Green Triad.” The hooded man was quick to correct. “Mielikki preaches Balance between civilization and nature. This settlement was planned, constructed, and governed with a deep respect for the Forest. It will be rebuilt in a similar manner so that it can return to being the beacon it was, one to be emulated across Faerun. One that all the gods of the Green Triad, even the Old Oak, would approve of and smile upon.”
Deep into the night on the 24th of Ches, a group of shadowy figures appeared to emerge from a large tree west of Baldur’s Gate, on the north side of the Chionthar. Moving swiftly and carefully, they traveled west until reaching the outskirts of Ulgoth’s Beard, close to where the Triadic church had maintained its triage station for the Hallowing ritual some months past.
The group gathered in a circle as a green hooded figure knelt and unfurled a piece of parchment on the ground. He methodically went around those gathered, pointing to certain individuals in turn then pointing to a portion of the displayed parchment giving instructions. When finished, he rose and handed a vial to those he had indicated to.
“Survey and extract. Do not take any unnecessary risks and do not engage with any foul creatures should they still remain.”
He then took up the holy symbol on his hip and softly chanted wards of protection over those gathered, with several others following suit with divine and arcane protections. With the benedictions and Weavings concluded, he gave a solemn nod to the group before a portion of them quickly disappeared beneath the moonlight, heading in the direction of the village. In the blink of an eye, a smaller more feminine figure changed shape into a bird and took to the sky, flying towards the village.
Those that remained spread out to setup a perimeter, many keeping sight of those departing until losing sight of them over the horizon.
After the perimeter was set and all were in place, the green hooded man knelt and once more took up his holy symbol, whispering softly to it between his hands.
“Green Triad, in your name we seek to keep the Balance. Watch over these conduits of your will and guide them safely back to us.”
He rose and slowly drew the curved blade from the scabbard across his back, his hawkish gaze pointed in the direction of the formerly tainted fishing village.
On the evening of the 9th of Tarsakh, 1362, some may have seen a gathering of folk (and some forest animals) in the Trielta Hills, a few may be recognised as proeminent figures of Triel - now named Antriera, and others may be recognised as druids from the region. What exactly was discussed under the starry night was for them to know, but it's clear the mood was of peaceful and mutual understanding.
[Thank you DM Ghost!]
A rare gathering
On the Trieltan cliffs overlooking the newly dubbed village of Antriera, so named in honor of the Chauntean priestess who gave her life defending it, a rare gathering of man and beast took place. Stone and root peacefully stood side by side in quiet discussion for several hours. Folk of the settlement and druids of the region together sought a path by which one side may rebuild while continuing to live in harmony with its neighbors and their way of life.
Sympathy was offered for the loss of hearth and home…
A symbiotic relationship promised…
A settlement that honors the Forest and listens to its caretakers envisioned...
Seeds to be planted for future generations…
Offers of aid exchanged…
And a new path, formed from both stone and root, began to sprout…
