The Druids of Yon are loose band of eco-terrorists, connected by name and manifesto and not much else, who live in the woods and are politically ineffective and irrelevant to –
Oh, it’s just you?
Druids aren’t that bad.
You cannot join them; there is no membership. They’re not a group, or a creed, or a secret society. There’s no conspiracy.
Folk who call themselves druids have a strong love of the land. Some say they wield a greater power, that they speak to the trees and raise spirits from the land and see through the eyes of squirrels and crows. Some say they have been to the Aduethriel, that they commune with the elves themselves in the clouds above. Some say they see the past, and in their vision protect the future.
Some say druids are small, pigmy things, like gnomes or trolls; some say they are just like you or I. Perhaps gnomes can be druids too.
Druids are known to serve the interests of the land. They do small deeds, like free livestock, burgle the rich, and break loggers’ axes.
Occasionally, a band of druids finds a place in history. Druids play a crucial role in the story of the Baron of Inselberg. One druid spoiled a steam engine in Daybreak. That sure caused a kerfuffle.
But for the most part, like witches, druids are just hunters and hermits that a nearby town has dubbed druids. Ordinary folk. No use raising a ruckus about it.