A lone figure walked along the crude dirt path carved through the forest. The figure was concealed beneath a brown leather cloak. As the figure walked, a light metal jingling could be heard. The figure's face completely concealed, save a few strands of brown hair. The wind whipped up, fanning out the cloak. Clad in Silver ring mail armor, etched with leaves and ivy, and sporting a scimitar, large and engraved with blood-red elfin writing. As the figure walked, another stepped from the darkness of the forest. The cloaked one stopped, and turned to the new presence. The new figure stepped into the little light penetrating the forest canopy. It was an Orc of the Crushbone clan, wielding a heavily rusted short sword.

"Mistake elf." The blue creature muttered. It raised the sword above its head and charged. The elf raised his hand and chanted some words few could truly understand. The orc was consumed by a brushfire and it collapsed to the ground. The elf returned his arm to under his cloak.

"Pitiful creature. Such a waist of mana. I'll leave you to the young ones." He said in a deep male voice. He returned to his original course. As he walked he noticed numerous woodland creatures, and the occasional fairy. He soon noticed others of his own kind. The Wood Elves. The young ones chased the huge forest bats and other creatures, building their skills for greater adventures. He smiled, remembering his time chasing the bats, wasps, and annoying pixies. Continuing down the path, he looked to the sky, seeing large wooden platforms suspended in the trees.

"Kelethin," he said to himself. "I have finally returned home." He walked up to the lift that carried people to and from the tree city. He depressed the switch that activated the lift. As he waited for the lift, he looked to the plate armored guards. They kept the city safe, and saved the occasional person from situations they couldn't handle. He stepped onto the lift and activated the switch again. As the lift carried him to the city, he pulled down the hood. His face was lean and angular, showing a lifetime of war and battle. A long tapered ear stuck out of his long brown hair. He inhaled the fresh forest air deeply. The scent of the forest soothed him, so long had he been away.

Up within the trees, young adventurers ran about. Merchants sole their wares, and Guards patrolled the walkways. Despite the young ones hustle and bustle, there was a general sense of calm, high above the forest floor. He remembered the city's layout perfectly, and headed for his final destination. He walked up to a small wooden hut. Slowly he pushed the door open. A woman sat, staring out the window. Another Wood elf, she had light red hair, and tanned skin. He stepped into the room.

"Hello, my love." He said softly. She turned to him, a look of surprise on her face.

"Athair, you're home."

"Yes, I have returned to you, as I promised."

"It's been years," she said, trying to keep her composure. "How have you journeys been?"

"I have traveled the ends of Norrath," he said sitting next to her. "I have seen the planet bold in the sky of Luclin, and I have traversed the realm of the Gods themselves. Though my mind has betrayed me many a time, my heart has always held true. Now my greatest quest stands before me."

"What would that be?" She asked quietly.

"The quest for a family." She turned to him in surprise, and he took her in his arms. "I am sorry for all the grief I have caused you. I promise to never leave you again." She pressed tight against him and tears ran down her cheeks.

"I love you." She said trying not to cry.

"And I you." He said pulling her close, intent to never let her go again.