Birch opened his eyes. His old limbs creaked as he began to stir. It had been at least a week since he last moved, he thought to himself. He reached down to brush the fallen leaves from under the trees that he sat beneath. With some more searching, he found the staff he had laid down also. He thought long about the choice that was before him. He rose to his feet with his belongings in hand. He looked at the path in front of him. “Left,” he said quietly. With that he set down the left side of the fork in the road.
It is argued that the Entgrown are possibly the oldest of races; even older than the Elderkin or any of the Bearded Folk. The Entgrown may even say older than the Ukronos. Judging by their memories it would be hard to argue otherwise. As old and as wise as the trees that grew them, the Entgrown are the first children born of spring. The Entgrown make their homes among trees. They are slow to anger and careful in their deep thinking.
The Entgrown are among the greatest of philosophers and the most virtuous of heart, and they see themselves as advisors to the younger races.
They have bark skin, leafy hair, horns like branches, and eyes like the knots of an old wise oak. They are slow to anger and careful in their deep thinking. Their textures and patterns indicate the real flora they spring from. From mossy beards to thorny manes, each and every Entgrown is unique. It’s not uncommon for the eldest among their kind to resemble trees so closely as to be nearly indistinguishable. The Entgrown are the children of the Ents, yet are a unique race unto themselves.