In another dimension, somewhere in a rift, all sorts of creatures flew and sang above the blue sky. The river glided freely along its path, and the gentle ripples it created were peaceful in the ears.
In the middle of the lush forest laid a house. A house built with the big barks of trees. Its wood became its shelter, and its leaves became its roof. There was a small waterfall beside the river, and two bridges connected the treehouse to the other side.
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There were all sorts of plants and herbs surrounding it as well as exotic mushrooms and herbs, from Screaming Mandragons to shape-shifting Deadly Nightshade to Hawthorns holding portals to the deferent realms.
At the entrance of every bridge, underneath the dense ferns stuck out lichen-covered wood. Barely visible letter carved and burned into its plank: Lizzaforth's Tavern
