... The faeries fly the sullen winds on blackened wings, and in the nooks of the branches hide the blackened dust of corpses burned hundreds of years ago.
They say witches hide, here. Lurking among the shadows in the depth of these woods - waiting for the occasional unwary traveller, so that they can slowly devour those innocent souls, and then hide the yellowed bones in the hollow trunks of the trees.
Eshreemn - such a lovely place, but nowhere as lovely as it once was. Before the dark fae, before the witches, before the wars that turned the oldest trees to dust. It's said that the spirit of the forest was made bitter and restless, then, in those ancient times.
A cursed forest. The cursed woods.