~Huron the White~
Again, I turn to Kerem Beyit for visualisation.
From chapter seven in 'A Short History of the Five Forts', by Sir Rojer Arrenwall.
Old men in the Five Forts region sometimes tell tales of ancient paths, deep in the wild woodlands north of the River Manshield. They say that if you go deep enough into the forest, the trees will herd you onto these paths and not let you leave. They say that if you find one of these paths you will become lost, and that deep in the forest there is something old. They say that the last remnant of the Aelvinwoode lies beyond the river. They say that the forest hates humans. Some also say that deep in the Fornost Forest the unseelie still hold court, waiting for the day when they can visit upon Man the pain they have born since the Great War.
It is my belief that there are indeed such things in the woods north of the border. The realm of Fornost lies beyond the Pale, accessible only through a few dangerous paths. There are also still elves here; the last of the once illustrious House Andradhril. The Frost Elves of Fornost are the last survivors of their line, driven from their lands by humans wielding fire and steel.
Even when the world was young, an elven birth was a rare and wonderous thing, a miracle shared by the entire House. Likewise, the death of an elf is a deep tragedy, one that strikes grief into the hearts of all elves. Thus it is that when elves go to war, they accept death, both their own and that of their kin -- the elven word for war is sier'elāndal, literally meaning storm of madness.
The Frost Elves of Fornost have seen the great Aelvinwoode that once covered the Pendrellian peninsula burned, they have seen their people ravaged and killed, they have seen Man conquer their land, and they have gone mad. Led by the last Prince of the Andradhril, Huron the White, they wait, in the last elven bastion in the world of Man.