In the cloud-capped peaks of the land, a city grew and thrived. That city, populated gently by elves, was appropriately
named Drow City. These drow elves led short pointless lives, which were marked by their hustle and bustle of daily life.
They would wake up at the crack of dawn, around 4-5AM and go to work, usually at a farm or bakery or factory. They were
always striving to build up their army of drow elves to fight the good dragon of Ryshikannan, which terrorized their small
city. In order to build up their army, countless drow elves had to work 18-hour days providing for the army just to support
it. This work made them soulless and cold-hearted.
The elves eventually transformed into white-haired, evil-eyed stalkers of the night. They abhorred anything good and pure.
An evil wind would blow through the Drow City they built which used to be beautiful and pleasant. The spirit of war caused
the kind elves to transform into evil ones. They became the embodiment of evil; they appeared in your nightmares; they were
cold-blooded murderers, arsonists, rapists, and mean people in general.
One day, a prominent elf named Jerathos and a beautiful maiden elf named Shera gave birth to a young elven boy. The boy was
unlike any other: it had the intelligence of a witty mage; it had the strength of a thousand army soldiers. The parents
agreed to name the elven youth Talinn, which in elf-speak (or elven) meant "soul of fire." They believed his spirit was
strong, so the name fit him well.
When Talinn grew to an appropriate age, he discovered what morality was. Deep down in his heart, he disliked war, although
his parents claimed that without it, the drows would be doomed. They were cold-hearted beings that murdered without
flinching. Talinn, with his kind heart, could not stand to be in the presence of such evil. He decided upon a plan to rid
himself of these unbearable surroundings.
In the middle of a quiet summer night, he arose out of his sleep furtively. Carefully packing a few satchels of belongings
such as clothes, leather armour, and a heavy iron broadsword that his kind-hearted grandfather gave to him before he passed
away in sorrow, Talinn's mind was flooded with nostalgic memories as he fled from his town. His grandfather was the last of
the kind elves and he knew that the inhabitants of Drow City were slowly transforming for the worse. On his deathbed, he
asked for Talinn to come to his side. He pulled Talinn close to his ear and whispered, "The ill wind howls… I sense an evil
spreading through the drows. But, I have faith in you, young boy. You will defend the honor of our fine city, of our kind.
You must destroy the evil that is consuming the beauty of our kind, whatever it may be. I hereby hand you my old sword of
my younger days. It is sturdy and strong, and with valor and wisdom, you will be able to use it effectively. Take care my
boy." And with those words, the grandfather of Talinn slipped away.
Talinn cried silently as he thought of his beloved grandfather. He stuck the sword in the sheath attached to his waist.
He had packed lightly, expecting adventure and traveling to provide him with items of necessity he needed as he went on.
With a silent tiptoe, he departed his home in Drow City, not even with a goodbye to his parents. He had forsaken his kind,
but promised that one day, some day, he would return and correct the problem that had caused him to embark on such a
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