Elsewhere...<br/><br/>A shimmering portal, in one of the purest, untainted parts of the Witchwood. A lone figure slips through; not even a leaf is disturbed by its passage, as the portal closes, still humming in the air, full of potential, and not far from the weakened planar barrier where Draiss' Death World had slipped through. But this was something for more primordial and dangerous than anything his Death World had spawned...<br/><br/>The figure moves with casual ease through the woods, as if it knew them as well as its own home, shifting with the breeze, sliding between the leaves, and arriving in a small elven city, on the north side of a river, late in the night, as a lone figure wanders the darkened streets of the city he helped to protect. The figure watches his movements, unobserved, even by his incredible power, and she can sense the strength in him.<br/><br/><br/>The city is progressing well; the almost four hundred elves nearly all have homes, and Drellin's Ferry is expanding remarkably, to accommodate the new arrivals, the city expanding on both sides of the river, as the Old Bridge is being replaced with the Archdragon's Bridge, a sturdy, magnificent darkwood structure, carved to look like a long dragon, rampaging across the river. He doesn't even notice the silent footsteps coming up behind him, the hand moving in time with his own movements, sliding into the pouch at his side, and seizing the pendant within. Only when it is lifted, does he even notice the lightness... but by then, she's fleeing, back towards the woods.