Sylvanthal

The City of Sylvanthal

Sylvanthal is not so much built as grown. Over millennia, the elves coaxed the ancient trees to intertwine their branches, forming platforms and bridges high above the forest floor. Bioluminescent moss provides soft illumination, and the air is filled with the scent of flowers that bloom in eternal spring.

Or at least, it was.

Now, patches of darkness spread through the canopy. The moss dims and dies. Flowers wilt and fall, replaced by strange fungal growths that pulse with sickly light. The elves fight a losing battle against the Blight that seeps from the World Tree at their city's heart.

History

The elves claim that Sylvanthal has existed since the dawn of the world, grown around the World Tree—the first tree, from which all others descended. For eons, the tree stood as a symbol of life itself, its roots reaching down to drink from the primordial waters, its branches stretching up to touch the stars.

The elves lived in harmony with the tree, drawing upon its magic to extend their lives and commune with nature. They never asked for much, and the tree gave freely.

Then the sickness came.

It started as a small spot of darkness on the bark, easily overlooked. By the time the elves noticed, the corruption had spread to the roots. Now, blackened veins pulse through the tree's trunk, and the sap that once healed all wounds weeps like corrupted tears.

Districts

Heart of the Grove

The central gathering place of Sylvanthal, where elves come to deliberate under the spreading branches of lesser trees. A pool of moonlit water holds a portal for travel to other cities, though many elves refuse to leave their dying home. Bioluminescent moss still clings to life here, providing soft illumination.

Base of the World Tree

The tower entrance—if it can be called that—lies at the base of the World Tree itself. The massive trunk now weeps corrupted sap, forming pools of poison that kill any plant they touch. Brave adventurers must navigate this toxic wasteland to enter the tree's hollow interior.

Warrior's Glade

A clearing where elven warriors practice their ancient combat arts. Unlike the brutal training of other races, elven combat is almost a dance—graceful movements that flow like water while delivering deadly strikes. The warriors here have devoted their lives to finding a way to purge the Blight.

Temple of the Moon

A sacred grove where silver-barked trees form a natural cathedral. A white stone altar glows with inner light, channeling the moon's power for healing and prophecy. The priests here perform nightly rituals, desperately trying to slow the corruption's spread.

The Moonwell

A pool of silver water that reflects the moon even during the day. It was once a source of great magical power, but the corruption has begun to taint even this sacred place. An enchanting table of moonstone still functions, though for how much longer, no one knows.

Culture

Elves are creatures of patience and contemplation. Where humans might rush headlong into a problem, elves prefer to observe, discuss, and plan. This deliberate approach has served them well for millennia.

But the Blight does not wait.

The younger generation of elves chafes under the slow deliberations of the Elders' Council, demanding immediate action. This tension has created the first real divisions in elven society in living memory—no small feat, given that some elves remember events from three thousand years ago.

The Tragedy

The World Tree was the source of the elves' immortality. As it dies, so too do they. The oldest elves have begun to show signs of aging—gray in their hair, lines on their faces. For a race that has known eternal youth, this is a fate worse than death.

Some elves have chosen to enter the tree, hoping to find the source of the corruption and destroy it. Few return. Those who do speak of tunnels through diseased wood, walls weeping corrupted sap, and creatures that were once animals twisted into something unrecognizable.

"The tree gave us everything. Now it is our turn to give everything for the tree." — Elder Caelindra, before her final expedition