Merthyrrillon Norrefaen

Merthyrrillon Norrefaen, the capital of the northern High elf civilization looms over the verdant, rolling hills encircling the citadel, and the lush forests to the south. Centuries ago this province long since ruled by a human civilization, came under siege by elven forces. As the human population grew so did their need for resources. For decades their King ordered woodlands to be destroyed, putting wheat fields and pastures in their place, pushing the elves further to the coast. The Wood elves warned the king to stop, but he only showed concern for his own subjects. "How are my citizens going to work on an empty stomach? There are forests all around the world! You could live anywhere, it's not like we can just leave this kingdom that my ancestors and I worked so hard to create."
Tensions continued to rise after the King's latest display of greed: A stone fort constructed on the mountain closest to the last remaining groves. The Wood elves would no longer hesitate to fire their arrows at anyone who got too close. Livestock and trade caravans would frequently go missing. More walls and towers were added to the fort. At night the farmers would join the soldiers patrolling the edge of the woods, throwing rotten produce and shouting crude insults, threatening to burn it down.
The odds against them however, the Wood elves refused to surrender. What they lacked in numbers and defense they made up for in skill and finesse. Less than a hundred expert archers gathered under the darkness of a new moon, their eyes well adapted for the dim star lit environment, one of only a few advantages they would have. Knowing their arrows would be useless against the stone fortifications, they would need to rely on the four strong magic users they had. This was going to be an uphill battle, quite literally.