Out Of The Blue
A broken, heart-chilling melody wafts out from the trees, caressing your ears with its melancholy beauty. As you peer around at the vast trees surrounding you, stretching as if holding up the sky, you see the leaves appear brighter and greener, as if their very life force has been enhanced.
You are in the Faewood, the land of the elves.
This green haven, which looks like paradise, is a prison. Not to a handful, or even to hundreds, but to an entire people. The tall trees on the edge of the forest are the bars of a prison cell, not a gateway. Within these woods reside thousands of what was once the fairest race on Rin. The children of the moon, now self-cursed to hide from their shame of centuries ago within the Faewood.
Some escape. Simply walk out of the trees and never return, settling in the world at large and starting new lives. But these elves are few. The king still resides deep in the heart of the Faewood, and his throne is so deeply rooted there that he is a part of the very life force of the trees.
Most speculate that the elves harbor a firm hatred for the “outsiders” as they call them; those that live beyond the Faewood’s borders. While the few nomads that venture out deny this charge, a number of other races, humans especially, still fear a third Great War, once again against the elves.