Not quite a city, yet more than a street, Where roads intertwine and neighbors all meet. I hold shops and homes, yet still feel small, A name for a place that gathers them all.

I'm with you but you'll never see I hold you up when burdens grow A traitor's blade was meant for me I break beneath the heaviest blow I left this game, I was away So what am I? Go on, just say

Not a trick, not pretend, nor some imagined deal, I'm what your senses prove and what your heart can feel. I stop the question 'Is this true or surreal?' Name me in one short word

I am a container, used for aging whiskey or wine. I'm also a vessel, used to escape the Elvenking's realm.

The dangers of leaving a puddle of water for too long, new life emerges, ready to turn whatever green and inedible.