In the shadow of empires and the silence of stone circles, the Verdant Pact endures.
Forged not by treaty nor conquest, but by shared reverence for the land, the Pact is a rare alliance between forest elves and plateau orcs. Where others saw wilderness, they saw sanctity. Their territories span ancient groves, mist-veiled highlands, and sacred sites untouched by human hands. Outsiders often dismiss them as antediluvian relics—tribes clinging to forgotten rites—but such judgments falter before the Pact’s unity and ancestral fury.
Governance is fluid, shaped by a council of druids and war-chiefs who blend ritual with pragmatism. There is no capital, no crown—only patrol groups and warbands that move like wind through the trees and thunder across the stone. Their strength lies not in numbers, but in conviction: every warrior fights with the memory of the land in their blood.
The Pact borders Arinn to the south and Thelidor to the southeast, with Drachenburg looming to the east. Though often overlooked in continental politics, their influence is felt in the quiet resilience of nature and the sudden precision of their strikes. They do not seek expansion. They seek preservation.