The old doe grazed calmly in the dark meadow, her long, slender neck

stretched to the ground as she tore up precious clumps of lichen from rotting logs
and half-buried stones. She was heavy with child, as were the three younger does
with her, and every scrap of food they could find was vital to their unborn fawns.
When this meadow had been cleared of whatever other mosses and lichens there
was to be had, the does would move on.

Grass was scarce. It was cold in the forest, even with the magic that
sustained it. Although the trees survived, much of the ground vegetation was
reduced to what could only grow in harsher conditions. Grasses, flowering plants,
grains what little of these did grow was soon consumed by herbivores like the
does.

Occasionally the old doe would raise her head, alerted by some sound in the
forest, her ears flickering in all directions until she was satisfied there was no
danger and resumed her grazing. The other does seemed to take their cues from
her and only went back to eating when she did. The forest was otherwise silent.

Perched on a high branch in a tree at the edge of the meadow, Lorelei Isilda
smiled to herself. Though the stars were partly obscured by the Eyes of Dghrghe,
the two black orbs that hung like dark sentinels over the land of Hkdnkf, there was
enough light to see the does. And Loreleis people had long ago adapted to seeing
well in the dark. It was good to see so many pregnant deer, since it was so rare in a
world of perpetual night. With the death of the sun, many animals of the forest had
died out long ago, and those that remained grew fewer in number every cycle. Of
the four deer in the clearing, perhaps one fawn might survive its birth. And there
was a chance that if it did survive, it would be born mutated. If that were the case,
then Loreleis people, the elves of Isthalania, would cull the unfortunate animal from
the herd.

Waiting until the deer had moved on from the meadow, Lorelei quietly
climbed down from the tree. Once on the ground, she left a sign that the forest
elves were sure to find, indicating pregnant deer had passed through here. The
elves would then be able to track the does and monitor their progress. When it
came time for them to give birth, they would be moved to the Isthalania Wildlife
Preserve where the success of live births was somewhat higher than in the wild.
Once the fawns were born and were determined to be healthy, they were released
back into the forest.

It was a losing struggle, however, and not only with the deer, but with all of
Isthalania. The forest nation once stretched all the way to the Brent Mountains in
the west and to both the northern and southern coasts of the Jnhjsdfhjk continent.
Now it was a fraction of its former size. The Winter Lands in the north and the Dead
Lands of the west encroached upon the forest further and further, diminishing it
every cycle as more trees and animals died. The only thing that had kept the forest
alive as long as it had was the magic that flowed through it, ancient magic that
breathed life into the forest, which sustained and energized every living thing within
it. But the magic was fading as well, and no Isthala remained who could remember
how to construct the magic. All they could do now was maintain it as they did the
forest.

Hope was not entirely lost. What the elves now lacked in magic, they made
up for with science. With nowhere else to turn, feeling abandoned by the gods, the
Isthala experimented heavily with biology in order to try and prevent their inevitable
destruction. Within three generations, The Isthala had not only made tremendous
advances in health and medicine, but had discovered the building blocks of all life:
DNA, which they called the Seed of Life. The elves, whose normally long life spans
had been drastically shortened by the loss of the sun, were once again living for
hundreds of years. Infant mortality was at an all time low