Silverwood Realm, the Forest of Nature.
It was a dying forest, choked by a spreading corruption. Every living thing on this land was under threat.
The invasion of demonic monsters and the spread of a virulent plague were no natural disasters; they were deliberate acts of war. Barring some unforeseen miracle, this place was doomed to drown in endless fear and agony until nothing remained.
The only hope for such a miracle, a Wood Elf who had been forced to bury her heart, now stood atop the canopy of a great tree, watching a pillar of thick smoke rise in the distance. And smoke, more often than not, meant war.
"Elder, the scouts have returned. Another hidden settlement has been discovered," an elven archer said, her voice tight. She stood behind Aerin, her gaze also fixed on the horizon. In her eyes, hope and sorrow warred for dominance. "If we don't go now, they might not survive the day."
