Care and effort are hard to exhibit in the face of apathy and laziness. Such is the struggle I deal with when it comes to describing some of the finer details of Drendast. In this case, I have a very, very pretty picture in my head, but when I try to find the words to describe what it looks like, I lose interest. The struggle continues, such that I am determined to press on despite the lack of enthusiasm for doing so. Perhaps, that is a quality that sets me apart as a truly awful writer.

Perhaps, I am okay with that.

With that said, I have always loved trees. I know almost jack shit about them as they are in the present day natural world, but maybe that is for the best. I have more blissfully ignorant wiggle room to work with when when trying to describe the kinds of vegetation that exists in my mind’s world. In this case, I wanted to share some thoughts concerning a species of tree known as Alluem Numana.

The name “Alluem” just sounded cool to me, and “Numama” hints at a source of magic(k), and otherwise paints a more enchanted picture in one’s imagination. At least, that’s the hope.

I wish I had a great deal of plant taxonomical details to relay, but instead, all I’ve got are the gists: Alluem Numana are very much like oaks in that they are very large, green and broad-leafed, deciduous hard woods. Being as they are native to Drendast (and Drendast is nothing if not Earth enlarged in many respects), they typically reach the heights we see more commonly seen among Coastal Redwoods: that is to say, tall as fuck — and yet, like oaks on Earth, they’re far from being the biggest trees on Drendast.

Apart from their height, however, there’s also the fact that they glow at night to take into consideration. I could be wrong but, in my mind, the idea of trees that light up and give off an aethereal, enchanted aura of one sort or another after twilight has set in seems to be a fairly well established fantasy trope at this point in the history of fictional literature (and other media). I can’t trace where I first got the idea from, but I know it was before the release of Avatar. In either case, it can hardly be avoided in a place like Elyen, given that nightfall only takes place once every three years (or months, depending on your reckoning). Well, months or years all the same, the point is that there are long periods of darkness for one third of the time at any given point on the surface of Drendast on a consistent basis. Therefore, it should not be so strange that the ecology reflects that fact in unique ways (in this case, with vegetation that lights up when the suns finally take their leave).

Other than that, it should be mentioned that they belong to a family of temperate rain forest trees.

Like so, only with, you know… actual oaks… and glowy bits at night…

So, giant-ass oaks that glow at night. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Alluem Numana of Drendast. I will have a little more to divulge about them in a second entry I will link to from here in the future.