As scholars of history and lore know, the story of the Underground
Forest within the Azdun dungeon is one of hatred and betrayal,
arrogance and punishment, and the empowerment and entrapment of the
demon-lord known only as the Wyrm of Worlds.

All that was very long ago, but it seems that the old adage is true:
history repeats itself.

The Wyrm of Worlds had long ago been imprisoned for his trespass against
Nature by Gaia, the Earthmother. The Goddess had burned away his physical
form and locked his unholy spirit within a cocoon of her own energy
solidified into stone. As guard, she had set the one who had both
summoned him and been betrayed by him: the tsol'aa named Darnashta'i.

Time passed, and passed, and passed. It became that only the longest of
memory and most ardent of knowledge-seekers and knowledge-keepers
remembered the Wyrm of Worlds. And when Gaia ceased to be, none gave
thought to the long-forgotten demon lord, nor what the Earthmother's
passing must portend for his imprisonment.

But deep below the earth, an ancient tsol'aa quaked in fear as for the
first time in his long stewardship, the wyrm-statue that was his ward
began to... move.

Cracks appeared in the stone, first mere hairline fractures, then jagged
black tendrils that swallowed the statue whole. With the passing of Gaia,
the Wyrm of Worlds was freed once more, and Darnashta'i was helpless
against the demon lord, who was powerful even in spirit form. The Wyrm
bound the tsol'aa in the remains of his own former chains and departed.

Seeking knowledge of what had caused his prison to disintegrate, the
Wyrm rejoiced at the news of Gaia's passing and watched with intense
interest as mortals worked to awaken a sleeping Celani once known as the
Queen of the Sacred Grove. He was weakened without a corporeal form, but
the Celani, having earlier sacrificed much of her essence, was weaker.
As he had done ages ago with Gaia on a smaller scale, the Wyrm of Worlds
secretly invaded the corporeal form of the sleeping Celani, deftly
merging his spirit form with her own in a manner so subtle she would not
suspect it when she awoke...

...as the Goddess of the Wildwoods, Demeter the Green Lady.

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Mayan, in the year 408 AF.