The gold elves were by far the most haughty and prideful of all elvenkin.They believed themselves the superiors of all elves, and all non-elves to be weaklings.Yet, out of this group of primarily reclusive and prideful individuals there were some good apples, elves with hearts as golden as their names who rejected the ways of most of their kin and took more after the ways of the moon elves, enjoying a life of acceptance and friendliness.One such elf was Mialee Amastacia, who had forsaken the haughty ways of her prideful kin, dwelling in a small but elegant cottage out on Trillby ridge.

This homely home's door was always open to travelers predictably turned away from the gold elf city of Yhaurëlion as a respite.Trillby ridge was quite a harsh region, after all.And so, following in the footsteps of many, you wandered down a smaller path than the main road toward a circular wooden cottage surrounded by wildflowers and with a garden of a few hearty vegetables.You knock on the double wooden doors, which are swung open by a cheerful elf, her copper-bronze coloured skin shimmering faintly in the goldenrod rays of the setting sun.A friendly smile spreads across her lips, and her golden eyes glint with an accepting kindness. "Hello there, weary traveler! I suppose you've come to this home of mine seeking some respite? Please, come in, come in." She heads inside her house, gesturing for you to follow her inside.