Greenvale
"You seen, I don't understand you tallfolk, why stay in a city you don't like? Why stay where there are rampaging demons in the night, hordes of undead, and all sorts of terrifying bullshit like that? Why not just leave, and live however you want?"
--Qini the Keen, when the halfling population exploded, sometime around 600 AB.
Greenvale, a vibrant-if manicured-forest in a trough between the massive Crags of Kolryut and the Buckler Peaks. It is a valley maybe ten miles across and a hundred-fifty miles long, which has been a safe and reclusive haven for essentially all of history.
It is so safe due to natural defenses, being just barely inside the ring of Erinion's Fortresses, and as such safe through the Age of Erinion, but also hidden from the First Jeriec Empire through it's rule as well. Only during the early Age of Giants when Avernus commanded all of Evandyr did Greenvale know such strife, but that was as the trees had yet to take root in the soil.
Among the kind spirits, homely hags, nature denizens, and all sorts of beings that seek to hide from the world, are a sort of hedonistic men that have escaped the wider mortal world, and found new sorts of transmutational alchemy, naming them Elixirs and immediately imbibing all sorts they found. As such, the Halflings were born.
"I think we're all criminals in a dozen different cities, towns, countries..."
"Don't think about that, have another glass, instead."
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