In Castrovel, the world of nature's fertility and brutality, lies a realm protected by the harsh storms and weather patterns that torment the rest of the world.
Sovyrian is sheltered by the powerful magics of its aeroturgists, keeping the Elfland in a state of perpetual spring and calm. In peaceful glades and calm meadows, the elves of Sovyrian (calling themselves the Tíre Alainn, Beautiful Folk) live lives of eternal joy and pleasure.
The realm is dotted with gorgeous estates and covered in great forests, home to creatures strange and wonderful.
In the courts and palaces of El Nia Gwyn, the three near godlike rulers of Sovyrian play the shadowy games of politics. Eradia, the Birch Queen, the most powerful of three, whose love can see a thousand children smile and whose ambition would see her brothers burn where they stand. Auberon, the Oak King, wild, passionate warrior, leader of the Wild Hunt, great drinker and famous for terrible bouts of anger and depression. Llŷr, the Holly King, said to be the most beautiful being in existence, a writer and poet and master sorcerer, despite weak in body.
The elves grow bored of these machinations. One can only enjoy paradise for so long. Eventually you get sick of the Blessed Salt and Ambrosia...
The elves of Sovyrian look hungrily at the lands of the Inner Sea. They read their ancient texts and sagas, and their minds come alive at the thought of returning to the days of an elven ruled Golarion and their once multi-world spanning empire. They grimace at the thought of the Lesser Folk, tearing up and spoiling the lands once under their control. With Azlant sunk, the Serpentfolk fled underground, the giants turned to savages and the dragons are too few, there is not much in the way of a possible invasion. Queen Telandia and the elves of Kyonin, are possibly all that stand between Golarion and an all out war.
The elves of Sovyrian are beautiful, proud, vain and terrible. The people of Golarion have forgotten the oldest songs and folktales, which tell of the nightmare of elven rule, now they only have tales of trickery and dancing.
The Gentry, the Lords and Ladies, the Star People, the Tíre Alainn, intend to reminded them.
More to come.