Ignaescious takes a long breath after downing the third jug of mead he had today. Wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, he got up off the wooden bench and disposed of his coins on the side to be collected. Leaving the mead hall, he took a step outside and welcomed the fresh air. The weather here was . . . different. Different than home. The air around him was born of a different breed. It felt fresh. 

He strolled casually around the local area, taking in the beautiful view and viewing the moist air touch his skin. I should do this more often, he thought. The company of other men, Elves or Dwarves did not interest him. It was the sea that was truly calling him. Getting a good sea view, the Elf stood there for a good while, taking in the view. 

In the distance he could hear the odd sounds of cattle and sheep, but they were quaint and added to the atmosphere. This continent was entirely new, not tied down by the evils of the land before. He was home, now. 

Digging into his pocket he plucked a beautiful, red apple. It was all that was great in the world; natural, tame and with no absolutes. He bit into it. The sinking feeling of deliciousness ran through him like a preacher and his choir, singing songs of God and his grace. 

God. The thought made him almost gag. No, God was an insane thought, like he owned something to this omnipotent being. This apple, this sea view, the humid air, the rays of beautiful sunshine kissing his hair, was where true happiness could be found. This was home.