Elwin the Hawk

You see tiny fay fluttering on gossamer wings. Before him is a miniature suit of silver armor hung upon the limbs of a tree. The armor is engraved with intricate carvings of leaves and vines, and blended into the floral patterns are etchings of magical runes. The sharp-eyed elf quickly notices your entrance into his spiritual realm and smiles. He speaks in a light, lilting voice.

“Fou Forn Doree, human. So do you like my armor tree?! An attempt at humor there. That is what you humans call your armor racks, isn’t it? This is a memory of the armor I once wore when I was a Faerie Knight of the White King. After we were slain by the Foul One, our weapons were summoned to the Tree of Swords in Eidenhomme for safekeeping. Unfortunately, our armor was not so lucky. Our graves were robbed by some mongrel goblins, raiders we believe in the employ of Brudenko the Exiled. The greater indignity was that I sensed they smelted my armor down to use its ore for a one of their primitive armaments. Despite my feelings of loss for knightly vestments, it feels good to remember it. Its like a visit with an old friend, but like all memories it too must fade.

The ornate armor turns translucent and then fades away like a morning fog.

“You wonder at how I sensed my armors demise by fire. I, of course, can sense it. I wore the armor for years and inevitably I bonded with it. I often forget how limited your human senses are. It must be terrible to be restricted to merely five senses. After being in this boneyard for a few years and speaking with both the quick and the dead here, I have come to understand that this sensory blindness is the root of many of the problems you stir up. Unlike us fay, you don’t have innate foresight, connectedness or judgement. You cast spells of Precognition, Commune with Nature or Divination, yet these are tools not an intrinsic part of you. By concentrating a fay can sense possible outcomes of its actions, the impact of those actions might have on the natural world and upon its fellow fay all before it acts.
Now mind you, I am not criticizing or slandering your race, but I am beginning to understand it. Your kind can chop down a forest because you cannot feel the trees bleed, hear the soil cry out, nor see the animals that cower in fear as their homes are razed. You are dead to all this except somewhere in the pit of your stomach or deep in your psyche you feel the lands wound. We fay cannot deaden our senses and as such are loath to harm the natural world. We are in constant sympathetic relationship with all nature, living or not. From a slug foraging for food to the silver ore of my armor, we are woven into the World Web, the Great All.
Think about it. It explains why their have been so many human wars: the Nobles War, the Wizard Wars, the Fire Wars, the Hills War, the Ogre-Kill War, the Water Wars... yet there are so few fay wars. It would be sadomasochism for fay to war with natural beings. Each cut would wound twice once on them and once on us. The only exceptions to this are beings that are devoid of vital essence. These we have no link to, like elementals, undead, or the sad shadows of our goblin cousins and of course demons and their kin, like gnolls and demonget.
Well the upside to you humans is that once you are dead your senses are significantly expanded, so there is always that to look forward to.
Ahhh... I sense from your response that my last statement was uncouth… my apologies. Long life to you! Ah… I sense my words strike you as insincere. Allow me to offer you a favor whether you know it or not you will have to travel to the Black Mire. The journey there is as perilous as the place itself unless you know the right pathways. I will guide you to the edge of the Black Mire when you are ready and have unlocked the Chalice Gate that leads there.