As I stand upon the docks of Altimmar, I fight to bring forth happier, or at least, less unpleasant memories. Even in the more pleasant shades of the past, sadness lingers.
98 years past
I first set foot on Altimmar just a few months after I completed my duty with the Silvardi royal navy. After a decade at sea, I had not imagined that I would miss the waters, but the salty waters were a welcome change from the inner forest.
My sister, Veradiel, had earned a position as diplomat to Turylia from Silvarden. She had labored many years studying the human land's history, culture, dialects, and everything else about her people. For her decades of study, she likely knew more of the Turylians than they did. She would be negotiating trade agreements, military alliance, and the addition of an elven member to the Turylian royal council in trade for a human member to the Elven council.
In previous millennia, the Silvadri nurtured the Turylian nation from a land