THE MISTY VALE

In the far south lies the Misty Vale, the mysterious home of the reclusive Grugach, savage, xenophobic elves who tolerate none trespassing in their ancient forest home.  Humans do not set foot here, for if they do, they invariably die, by elven arrow, spear or sword, or by the strange, fell magic that pervades the ancient forest.

Legends and superstitions about the forest and its inhabitants abound in the surrounding lands, with many tales claiming that the spirits of the earth mother, Chauntea, live and play within the boughs and mists alongside the elves, as fey and mysterious as the earth's other children.

THE GRUGACH

To those beyond the veil of the forest, the Grugach are almost a myth, a tale told to frighten children into behaving.  The wild, fey elves of the forest are rumored to wield mysterious sorcerous powers of glamour, charm and death which they bring to bear upon any unlucky enough to wander near, or when they gallivant through the world surrounding their home.  It is said that only the lucky view the face of a Grugach and live to tell of it.

Thus, though the People of the Vale are almost unknown to outsiders and feared by them, their outcasts are not unknown.  These elves are light of skin, though their hair and eyes are usually raven black; though some sport emerald green or gold-flecked brown eyes, or true albinos with white skin and colorless eyes.

Most Outcasts dress in simple leathers and thick woolen cloaks, dyed to blend in with the colors of the forest and wood -- browns, greens and especially grays -- and their faces and bodies are often tattooed in swirling patterns.

Beyond this, the Outcasts are as mysterious and reclusive as their former kin within the Vale.

Situated between the heights of the Dun hills in the west, and the towering Cliffs of Talar in the east (overlooking the cold River Talar), and bordered by the Bandit Wastes in the south (desolate moors inhabited by n'er-do-wells and brigands) the Vale gains its name from the mists that cloak the forest through the morning, clinging to the forest floor in swirling patches even during the day.

These mists fill the wide, forested valley, their cause either vagaries of the weather or perhaps the magic of the forest; only thin edges of the northern  forest are free of the pervasive mists.
They constantly obscure its expanse and even occasionally creep into the Dun Hills, so thick that even the hot southern sun does not often burn them off.

Thickest in the mornings, disappearing towards noon on clear, dry days and not returning until evening and nightfall, the mists are not constant, except perhaps in the bowels of the forest and the shadows of the hills, where they can remain even throughout the afternoon.

The trees of the Vale are thick and their canopies vast, the trunks of the most ancient trees a hundred men thick; the forest floor is clear of all but the hardiest life, for little light reaches through the thick boughs above, though in areas the light pierces the leafy barrier in beautiful, slanting down in golden shafts to touch the ground.

THE ELAHNNES

Feraonnaethra Elahnnes is known to outsiders as the Queen of the Elves, a tall, red-haired beauty of regal bearing and demeanor, lustrous, pale skin and blue eyes the color of the deep ocean; she lives mostly in myth and legend, as she has for centuries and few can claim to have ever met her or even glimpsed her.

The Elahnnes tribe, however, are not typical of the Grugach; nor (it is whispered) are they fully elven, the tale stating that much human blood flows in their veins, accounting for the coloration of the Queen and her two daughters.  It is also said that this human blood is what brings the Elahnnes to trade with the humans of Sheirlantar.

THE OUTCASTS

Cast out of the Vale, out from their people and sent into the world of the barbarian humans...forever.

Those elves who endanger their people or commit some horrible crime against their own are treated thus. Should they ever set foot in or near the forest again, they will be slain, so they live alone among the humans in the cities, or alone in the surrounding wilds...always alone, for they are seemingly eternally branded in some unseen way that marks them forever after as an Outcast, even among other Outcasts.

For the immortal elves, this is a terrible fate indeed.

OUTCAST MINDSET

The Outcasts state the Vale is sacred and holy to them, its soil is their flesh, its water is their blood, its trees is their hair...that is what they gave up when they became Outcast.

Seeming moody and irrational to men, guided by alien impulses and stimuli, one moment peaceful, the next filled with rage or sadness, finding joy in things both strange and understandable. Of their life in the Vale, they will not speak, except rarely, and confusingly.

Cast out of the Vale, knowing their horrible fate and knowing the eternal span of their immortal lives, they nonetheless fail to find any comfort in death or taking their own lives.

Though they fight boldly, with savage abandon and skill, they will not put their lives in overt danger nor sacrifice themselves, despite the eternal torment they all seem to suffer.

THE SEELHIE

Phantoms of gray cloaked in the night, in the mist, who strike out of the forest as a wild, terrible host of elves -- either gleefully tricking, enslaving or slaying everyone they come in contact with, leaving only the bloody bodies of the dead in their wake and never any witnesses.

Many tales are told of the wild hosts of the Seelhie, from those that claim they steal children, to those that claim they steal the length of a man's life and leave him, after magical revelry, a century out of his own time, to those which state they descend upon men and pluck out their hair and eyes.

Whispered of mostly where the Dun Hills meet the Vale, said to be sneaking through the mist along the roadside watching the caravans pass, exacting terrible vengeance upon all present when one of the ancient, sacred rituals needed to travel the road is forgotten or some trespass is committed.

Some call them the guardians of the forest, fickle and uncaring in regard to the lives of men. Others point out tales of the Grugach show them all to be such.

LIFE IN THE VALE

Nothing is known of the life of the Grugach, though it is imagined in the many human tales of the fey that they serve their Queen doing the forest's business, reveling eternally in underground halls and other such fancies of the imagination.

On this, Outcasts rarely comment or speak, at times injured by the mention of the Vale, at others stirred to passionate-but-unrevealing words about their lives there, choosing empty but beautiful descriptions and often speaking in elven.

WARFARE

The Grugach are known to wield darkwood bows nocked with deadly -- even poisoned -- black-shafted arrows, as well as spears of the same black wood and shining, shimmering swords forged of an unknown metal.

Their warriors are said to be fearless of death, but never bold, striking from cover, wearing down their enemy instead of presenting themselves to him.

At least, such is how the Outcasts fight.

TRADE

The few elf-crafted items from Sheirlantar are prized by those who know of them, and regarded as master-works, but the elves themselves take strange things in trade.

Sometimes gold and silver, but never coins or strong metals, often things of no comparable worth to a human: a rose from the emperor's garden, a single breath from the merchant, to call out to a star or the promise of a particular ritual upon the full moon (and those who fail to complete these find either the item vanished, or they themselves are found dead or vanished).

So, it is dangerous and strange to deal with the Grugach, despite the wealth to be had by selling their works.

THE OUTSIDE WORLD

The Grugach maintain no friendly relations (or much relation at all) with those outside their borders, considering all to be enemies, though despite the tales, for the most part they do leave human caravans traveling through the Dun Hills alone...there are always the exceptions that put rightful fear into the hearts of human travelers.

The bandits of the Wastes, however, tell frightful stories of the savagery of the Grugach  of the Vale, and the border between the Vale and the Wastes is a place of constant conflict and the source of many terrible legends.