There’s a saying - from riches to rags? Or was it the other way around? Liquor had blurred the lines so much, she couldn’t quite tell anymore, nor did she care. The shift was all the same to her, and time found her jaded to the curious turn of events. Denial didn’t last very long, her anger was much more volatile than she expected. The stages of bargaining and depression formed patterns of heavy drinking and indulgence in various vices. A young half-elf, branded a traitor, torn from everything she knew, she wasn’t sure what else she could do. So she drank, and moved to the next spot, and drank some more. A pretty girl or boy would sometimes cross her path, it made the venture a little more interesting at least. 

By the time she finally moved to acceptance, each day precariously fell into the next. She found herself in fights for one reason or another. Perhaps it was something she said? She needed excitement, she needed a thrill - or a purpose. The exile allowed her to see different lands and experience different cultures. As it turned out, there was much more coin in bounty hunting than in pirating, and to top it off, she didn’t have to split her earnings with an ungrateful crew. 

Southlanders were a tricky bunch, it was finding the right words to sway them into favor that was key. And her words would sometimes lead to broken hearts and bloodshed. Mud and dry blood caked her boots and smudged her face, she smelled like she hadn't bathed in days. Certainly not a proper lady, but then again that was one part she always had trouble playing. Elora wasn’t sure how she’d convinced them to allow her in, she could only think they pitied the form in which she presented herself. They did confiscate her weapons though, well, the ones they knew of anyway. She might have seemed within only half her wits while the other half sleep walked in a drunken stupor, but she was aware enough to play the game correctly. She wouldn’t dare leave herself completely vulnerable. Especially here.

She had been in the town for at least three days now and had about all the whiskey she could tolerate from the local tavern. What she wouldn’t give for Kaelic Whiskey right about now … she snickered at the notion and chugged the last bit which occupied her cup. The people though, they were entertaining enough. She would often play games in her head - imagining where each person came from, what their stories were, what went on behind closed doors, the horrors … or secret pleasures they’d each known or seen. She loved to people watch, it certainly helped to pass the time. 

The inn was small and comfortable enough, but sleep didn’t come easy. It never did these days. There were rumors of a dark elf uprising or something of the sort. Gossip was easy to come by in small villages like these. Unfortunately though, sometimes gossip was just that - half truths, exaggerated fairy tales and overdrawn conclusions. Regardless if it was true or not, there was never a dull moment when traveling through the Southlands. 

As dawn arose, so did her hopes. Something stirred within her. An angst of which she hadn’t felt for a long time. There was just an air about it- this was something big. She had no idea what she would find, if there would be others, what their intentions were, if they’d welcome another to their pack. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to join another ‘crew’… who was she kidding, she needed an excuse to get out of this town and the slump she had been in recently. The nearest town was a two day trek, so Elora packed up what little belongings she had, stocked her rations and whiskey, actually bathed, gathered her weapons from the guardsmen and went on her way. 

She didn’t come across much hostility during her travel. By the time she reached the quaint town she wasn’t much worse off than when she left the last one, save the traveled and worn look smeared across her face. The town looked promising enough, until the guards scurried off upon noticing her arrival. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing and wondered what would meet her. She wore her best wares, minus her hat which somehow went missing. Her right hand casually leaned on the hilt of her blade, she stole a swig of liquid courage and continued onward towards the entrance. “Gods be with me today”.

[@BCTheEntity][@Stormflyx][@Fetzen][@POOHEAD189][@Mortarion][@Gardevoiran][@The Fated Fallen]