The Living Sanctuary
Beneath an endless canopy of emerald and gold, where ancient trees cradle the sky and roots drink deep of memory, lies the Forest Kingdom. To the elves who call it home, the forest is not merely land — it is ancestor, teacher, and soul.
Here, entire cities are suspended in the branches of titanic trees, grown with care and reverence. The largest of these, the City of Branches, serves as the heart of elven culture, where a matriarchal line of queens guides their people with wisdom born of centuries. Every tree is a descendant of the Great Tree, and every elf a guardian of that sacred lineage.
Yet beneath the serenity flows an undercurrent of tension. The elves are isolationists by tradition, wary of the younger races who expand too quickly and think too briefly. Their commerce is ritualized, their promises bound in living contracts, their battles swift and merciless when provoked.
Beyond the great cities, in the wild places, lives a splintered faction: the Wilderkin. Rejecting politics and power, they believe the forest itself should be revered above all else, and that elven civilization has grown too far from its roots.
Whispered in every grove are legends of a single Unicorn, timeless and elusive, and of a hidden green dragon whose breath reshapes reality. To the elves, these are not myths. They are truths, patient and waiting.
In the Forest Kingdom, life grows slowly but fiercely, and to tread its shadowed paths is to step into the pulse of the world itself.
