Late autumn. Oh how you hate this time of the year, it's like a gentle reminder that we're all mortal (at least the lucky ones). You lean againts the near wall, your eyes are travelling down to the river that flows through the Gate down to the Druid grove, you heard it's a beautiful place, perhaps one day you'll see those tall trees yourself...

"Beautiful" The sudden voice interrupt your thoughts. "The river, of course" the pale elf purrs, his silver hair shine more than the stars above you.