The morning sun poked cautiously over the horizon. It painted the sky in a dazzling display of
vibrant colors. The brilliant star
seemed to pause for a moment while taking its first look at the world to which
it was bringing light. The majestic,
glimmering light brought a caress to the silky spring clouds. They would continue to carelessly banter about
the sky, riding winds where they led.
As the dark of night retreated, a dense fog still stubbornly
held the land in a cloak of disguise.
Such a spiteful deed by its dark counterpart seemed to displease the
sun. It resolved to rise steadily into
the air and shine brightly down upon the usurper with all its might. Being no match for such luminance, the night
reluctantly withdrew its misty blanket and released the land to the dawn.
As the haze dissipated, it gradually revealed treetops where
one might expect the ground to be. With
more and more of the air clearing, the trees appeared to spread out in all
directions. It was a great forest of
redwoods which seemed quite normal at first glance. Upon closer inspection, though, it could be
seen that the trees were twice as wide as houses and were spaced out evenly,
most certainly in a deliberate pattern.
It was not just a forest, but also a town.
The trees were actually the town of Missandor. The spacing of the giants formed a grid,
which created streets through the town. There were no houses there in a
conventional sense. The inhabitants
lived within and upon the trees.
Missandor was a community of elves. The swarthy folk with
brown hair and eyes were slightly more modest in height than their human
counterparts.
As a whole, it could be said that elves were a friendly and
kind people but also intensely proud and distrusting of other races. In
Missandor, however, the population was known to be accepting of different
cultures and races, making for an atypical elven town.
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