Canridauis

A legendary being, Canridauis is mysterious and unpredictable—as most elves are. It spends its waking hours roaming the woodlands or standing motionless, unnervingly watchful. When activity or injury takes its toll, the elf falls into a deep sleep, stretching and fortifying, resembling a tall tree.

Canridauis moves slowly, methodically, seeking things to pique its interest. There are no other entities in the area quite like it and it is the only one of its kind—though there may have been more in the distant past. It has a tall, slender figure that shimmers in the light as if its hide is dusted with silver glitter. The elf’s face is the only section not covered in hair; having a long countenance, it is framed with unruly locks and accentuated by sharp, intelligent, mostly black eyes that stare above a pointed nose and beside lengthy, pointed ears that angle diagonally, curving backward. The being’s fur is a mixture of light brown and gray; it is thicker and wilder on its head and its mane wraps the elf like a garment. Though the fae has no tail, the rest of its body appears to be that of a strange wolf’s — with elongated, human/canine-hybrid limbs ending in paws, clean, short claws, and footpads. A bright, clear white surrounds the being, eliciting fear from a distance but forcefully calming those in its imminent radiance.

A magical creature, Canridauis may alter its environment with spoken spells. Most often, its powers are used to alter organisms, who may become the forefathers to completely new species. Less fortunate beings writhe in pain, slowly suffering as the changes inflicted are so drastic and incompatible to their bodies, mental capacities, and/or lifestyles. On other occasions, the elf plays with its environment, creating waterfalls, minute/extravagant vegetation, or abnormal expanses of terrain—some of which or temporary constructs. If it grows bored, its attention turns toward the living beings around it, toying with their hapless forms; the elf may pull apart, squeeze, hold, toss, observe, prod, or alter a creature that passes by. When chanting spells, Canridauis speaks in Susurrus; its speech rumbles in deep tones that may morph into a lulling melody or inspiring cadence. None of the elf’s acts are performed out of evil or maliciousness, but out of curiosity, irritation, or indifference; in rare cases, the fae may take pity on an individual or its family and attempt to aid them in some way—though sometimes the fae’s help causes more harm than good.

Canridauis can neither be killed or die from natural causes, though if weakened or tired, it

will rest for a prolonged time—sometimes hundreds of years. When it chooses to sleep, its neck and upper torso elongate, growing to be like the trunk of a tree; the hair around its head puffs outward and lengthens, concealing the creature’s face. Its mane unfurls from its body and feet plunge into the ground, holding it into place. There, it remains silent, motionless until it desires otherwise. While resting, it exudes strong, illusory magic that causes beings around it to not notice its poor camouflage.

Canridauis does not carry out any other bodily functions or have the ability to reproduce. It is also believed that the elf ensures that all species of fae in the region are balanced, killing or giving life to those that need it, as well as organizing several kinds to serve its will. It is said that Canridauis has lain dormant for hundreds of years, the natural and fae world thrown out of balance without its discernment and care; it is unknown when the being will wake and restore order to its kind.