conversations: human
conversations:  The sun, lazily rising into the beginning of its daily cycle, climbs over the horizon's edge, bringing with it brilliant lightrays that dance off the morning dew in the hills and plains and make the tops of the trees shine so brightly as if flames danced upon them.
  
  These same brilliant rays caressed the sleepy wood and stone of the large village known simply as The Faction, dispelling the night and coaxing people from their beds. The streets warmed, stunned people stumbled out of a tavern, and life began with a slowly increasing hustle and bustle.
  
  A new day had dawned.
  
  People in The Faction mostly start the day's journey in the southern part of town, as the strong darkwood houses and the Great Olgyamut Bar reside there, in what serves as the residential district of the large village. Most of the houses are built as actual houses, but a few are built into naturally growing darkwood trees as well, due to some elves' beliefs that it brings them closer to nature.
  
  Moving north into the center of town, one enters the market plaza, an open area filled with the stalls of merchants, craftsmen, and others plying the trades they specialize in. The only true building in the area is off to the northwestern section of the plaza, the Fancy Shop of Magic owned by the teenage human girl, Narri.
  
  The western section of The Faction is where adventurers, soldiers, and others of similar ilk gather when not at the tavern, as many people recruit others and prepare supplies in the small rental cots lining the streets. The only prominent buildings here are the guard barracks, as the western section is the only open entrance to The Faction as well as the area facing away from the rest of the resistance's land.
  
  Most people living in The Faction continue north, however, rather than going west, as the northern section of the city is the place of non-traders with full-time jobs. This is the place where most weapon and armor shops and forges, small factories, and inner-village plantations exist.
  
  A small few, however, turn towards the eastern section of the city, the section where the leadership of this piece of the resistance makes their base. It also serves as more of a business and regulation district, as this is the workplace not only of war leaders and strategists, but also of those who do paperwork and monitor the goings-on of daily life and economics in The Faction. Despite the business-like function of this section, however, it appears the most natural and magical of any section of the city, with the offices built carefully into darkwood trees to appear as if part of the tree itself and lit within by magic and glowing plants rather than torch and burning coal.
  
  While most of the village is just now bursting into life, however, you have all been awake for some time. You, though not quite the cream of the crop and mostly not even part of the cohesive military structure, are well above most of what the resistance has to work with, and were thus ordered by the leading general and governor of the town, the nameless gray elf who was referred to as either "General" or, by close friends, "Asper," to appear in his quarters early in the morning. You were to be given a special assignment based on some "new information" that had been acquired.
  
  Now you wait simply in a waiting room with bench-like structures composed of magically-induced plant growth, lit dimly from seemingly everywhere yet with no discernible source. You are scheduled to be met by the General in about five minutes, though there appear to be no doors except the one you came in from and no furniture except the plant-growth bench. The room is quite spacious, built into a darkwood tree several times larger than any other known to exist, with sixty feet between a wall and the wall across from it, yet currently there was only one person inside aside from your group, a young, dreamy-eyed halfling girl in the opposite corner of the room from the bench (which was in turn by the door) who was lazily flipping a gold coin while spacing out.
  
  The room had a faint smell almost like cinnamon, and the walls seemed to block out the sounds from the outside street almost completely once the door was closed.
  
  -----------------------------------------------
  
   
   Spoiler: And, thus, uh, 'heroes' were made 
  A brief location note, the place you're in is mostly a partially hilly, partially flat plain. The trees are actually fairly sparse: on average, a dozen and a half or so per square mile. They tend to clump due to the winds blowing seeds down into the gaps in the hills, however, so there are clumps close enough together to build the southern and eastern districts around (and often into) them.
  
  Any specific locations will have related information explained about them as they become relevant locations.
   
conversations: ChaoticDitz:
conversations: human
conversations:  Morgan   
  
  Morgan enjoyed the cold breeze of the morning. Having ones body completely covered was both hot and uncomfortable. Alas, it was nessesary.
  
  As he sees the others he greets them:   This morning is wonderful..   with a voice that clearly implies what the morning is beautiful for.
  
  To make time pass he will start a debate with Dren whether or not it is a viable strategy against druid to tie a shield on the front and the back, hereby ruining their flow of natural energy.
  
   
   Spoiler: The morning is wonderful for 
  killing orcs doh
   
conversations: Sønderjye:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ilier Nelnarmyr   
  
  " I concur. For a century I saw naught but a greysilk sky whenever castle walls didn't cover it for me, and so I'm constantly amazed by these colours, but  this  morning is particularly beautiful, I must admit. " So showed Ilier how he had completely missed the joke, lazily trying to glance outside from where he stood, though he wouldn't have spared a smile either way.
conversations: Dr. Azkur:
conversations: human
conversations:  Cracking a rare grin at Morgan's hypothesis, Dren breaks his thoughtful silence,  "I wouldn't know; I've yet to be presented with one who would have acquiesced to such an experiment." 
  
  Dren clears his throat loudly and glances toward the door, very obviously impatient with simply waiting. To distract himself, he digs around in his bag, pull out his ever-present book, and begins to scribble a few notes.
conversations: JBarca:
conversations: human
conversations:  Nightyara's entrance is somewhat awkward, as her refusal to not constantly keep her weapon with her means that she has to navigate through a door with the six-and-a-half feet of steel at her side. In the end she ducks and holds the weapon horizontally, doing a forward swivel to get into the room, the sharpened steel of her massive blade barely missing the wood of the doorway. Once in the room, she looks it over briefly, seeming impressed by its size and spending a moment to inhale the unusual smell of the place. Spotting the halfling, Nightyara looks at her with interest for a moment, eyes running over her body, looking for weapons, pouches - any signs of the small girl's profession, before she goes to sit down next to her, setting her blade against the bench at her other side, steadying the steel with one hand.
  
  As the others speak, Nightyara in turn sighs ( "You know, life can be more than single-mindedly killing orcs, my heathen friend." ), chuckles ( "Why would metal disrupt the flow of natural energy? It is an inherent part of nature, worked steel is part of the Sunburst's great sculpture." ) and sighs again, ( "Patience, Dren. Waiting in silence is an important skill for anyone not intending to spend their life keeping another's home."  but makes no effort to involve herself more deeply in a conversation. If the others wish to speak with her, the warrior will respond, but she doesn't seem to be interested in a lengthy exchange.
conversations: PersonMan: