The reports on the fall of Myth Drannor are pretty varied and spread, and the elves that lived there are somewhat cagey about sharing a part of their history with the world to outsiders. You'll be able to find a journal entry, the only of its kind, from a member of the Treesguard, dated roughly one day before the calamity. You'll need some help to decode it, since it's written in High Elf.
My dearest Ilsevele is no longer with us. The plagues brought about by the darkness in the sky continue to twist and turn the vines of the wood, a harbinger of disease and rot the likes of which we've never seen before. With our leader sent home to the Great Mother, we are without a plan, a path, anything to guide us through our darkest hour.
The shadows cast on our people are a pall. Bathed in the moonlight of the dread city, their skin turns dark and their eyes glow an unhealthy auburn. We've had to lay our own brethren down over the past two ten-day, and it brings me the utmost disdain to have to raise a blade against my own kin.
Alas, we make one last hold at Yggdrasil. For if the tree of life falls, all the splendor She has bestowed upon us will have been lost. Would that we were like our ancestral lineage so that we may cast a barrier of light around the city and protect our home, but that brightness has long been faded.
Soon, the city will be upon us. It looms over us, mocking us. A great diaspora of our people will follow, and I do not pity the news that reaches Silverymoon once it has happened. This will be my last entry.
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The reports on the fall of Myth Drannor are pretty varied and spread, and the elves that lived there are somewhat cagey about sharing a part of their history with the world to outsiders. You'll be able to find a journal entry, the only of its kind, from a member of the Treesguard, dated roughly one day before the calamity. You'll need some help to decode it, since it's written in High Elf.