Somewhere within a forest, not so dense and rather easy to traverse, an elf was making his way back to his hometown hidden deeper within. He was not just any elf but a drow, a kind of elf with obsidian-colored skin and light-colored hair. Not only that, but this drow, Zayle as he was known, was one of the Nakazuri drow, a peaceloving kind that perceived their bodies as the epitome of beauty, and that clothes are a loathsome thing invented by humanoids that are inferior in appearance to them. As such, they never wore any clothing of any sort, and would be insulted to be forced to wear any. As a result of this, Nakazuri elves were often not permitted into human towns, and often kept to themselves in their own cities hidden away in forests. Zayle was a bit of a different story. He did what he could to get along with the outside world while still upholding Nakazuri customs. He was on something of a quest to find the meaning of a mysterious marking that appeared on his body one day. Unable to find a single person that could make heads or tails of it, he was headed back home, disappointed. He was now on a road in the middle of the forest that would eventually lead him back home...