The town of L'Jess had grown into a metropolis, by elven standards, anyway. Ever since the latest attack by the Hellwyrm, the elf clans found themselves wanting more and more protection against other-worldly forces. True, elven magic was potent, but with their long-time friends, the Council of Elder Dragons cutting off all contact, many of the elven clans found themselves dealing with an uprising brought on by paranoia. Much of the younger generations no longer felt safe tucked away in secluded hobbles. After all, the trio that had ultimately dealt the final blow to the Hellwyrm had consisted of members of three different races. It seemed to them, that there was a greater chance at survival in a place where their numbers were greater.
So, dozens of clans found themselves losing many of their kinsmen. In total, nearly four-thousand elves, most just youths that hadn't even reached a half-century of age, migrated to L'Jess to share their knowledge and experience, limited though it may have been, with others to achieve a greater sense of protection. What they hadn't counted on was that the warnings from their elders would be correct. Greater numbers of a populace brought a greater chance of external forces viewing you as a threat.
Within a few short years, elven taverns and guildhalls were constructed and started displaying their ads for warriors and adventurers to fight off roving hordes of bandits, inter-planar entities, sentient fungal masses and countless other would-be threats.
That was where Doriaon came in. As a guardian of the Myst Realm, it was his responsibility to ensure that nothing from his home world, a dimension of chaotic mystical energy that took the form of a dense eternal fog, ever escaped. Anything that was sent to the Myst Realm was sent there for a reason, and if it managed to survive there, it was changed into something worse than when it had arrived. Once before some of these forces had escaped, and another guardian, Der, had been charged with their retrieval or destruction. In following this charge, he'd been forced to relocate himself to Ayenee permanently. Now, it was Doriaon's turn. Another creature had escaped the confines of the Myst Realm, and it was his job to track it down. It had been known for its hatred of the elvish people before it had been banished to the Myst Realm, so he started his search here, in the confines of L'Jess.
He walked, or rather, his mist-like body appeared to walk as he floated, through the streets made of petrified wood and looked carefully between the stone and wood spires that made up many of the buildings in the town. He didn't know, really, what he was supposed to be on the lookout for, but he was certain he'd know when he saw it.
So, dozens of clans found themselves losing many of their kinsmen. In total, nearly four-thousand elves, most just youths that hadn't even reached a half-century of age, migrated to L'Jess to share their knowledge and experience, limited though it may have been, with others to achieve a greater sense of protection. What they hadn't counted on was that the warnings from their elders would be correct. Greater numbers of a populace brought a greater chance of external forces viewing you as a threat.
Within a few short years, elven taverns and guildhalls were constructed and started displaying their ads for warriors and adventurers to fight off roving hordes of bandits, inter-planar entities, sentient fungal masses and countless other would-be threats.
That was where Doriaon came in. As a guardian of the Myst Realm, it was his responsibility to ensure that nothing from his home world, a dimension of chaotic mystical energy that took the form of a dense eternal fog, ever escaped. Anything that was sent to the Myst Realm was sent there for a reason, and if it managed to survive there, it was changed into something worse than when it had arrived. Once before some of these forces had escaped, and another guardian, Der, had been charged with their retrieval or destruction. In following this charge, he'd been forced to relocate himself to Ayenee permanently. Now, it was Doriaon's turn. Another creature had escaped the confines of the Myst Realm, and it was his job to track it down. It had been known for its hatred of the elvish people before it had been banished to the Myst Realm, so he started his search here, in the confines of L'Jess.
He walked, or rather, his mist-like body appeared to walk as he floated, through the streets made of petrified wood and looked carefully between the stone and wood spires that made up many of the buildings in the town. He didn't know, really, what he was supposed to be on the lookout for, but he was certain he'd know when he saw it.