Helo

Avalia

Time: Evening
Location: Forests near River Port
Interactions: Zephyrin@Howlsofwinter, Kenia@Tae, Clara@princess

Once they had harvested what they could from the wyvern’s corpse, they continued towards River Port. Bowyn’s hand absentmindedly rubbed at his shoulder where Boreas used to sit. The lack of talons digging in bothered him, the absence of that comforting weight, and every so often he turned his head and expected to see feathers and beady eyes still there. But Boreas was gone, and everything seemed to remind Bowyn of this. He didn’t want to think about it, he welcomed any distraction. Silence no longer suited Bowyn; it was too uncomfortable to have to focus on his thoughts.

A few weeks ago someone rambling on about their entire week in excruciating detail would’ve been would have both bored and annoyed him. But something in him had changed. He found himself invested in the human’s story, thankful for her willingness to cut through the silence. It was uncomfortable to care about these people, to enjoy the company, but not nearly as difficult as being alone, as focusing on the void left by Boreas. When Clara had finished her tale and started humming strange melodies, Bowyn did his best to hum along as well. His timing off at first but quickly picking up on the rhythm of it. He had forgotten how much he had used to enjoy music.

He didn’t talk much as they walked, but he listened and tried to hum along with Clara when the others were quiet. When Clara announced they were almost at the port, he found himself more nervous than excited. What if he didn’t find Torvi or Belle here? Could he even handle that on top of Boreas? It was hard to keep pace, his feet were weighted down with anxious dread. He could only think of more disappointment, of the probability of only the worst possible fates. There was no other option but to keep going forward. He hated this, caring about so many people other than just himself. Hated feeling an uneasy sickness in the pit of his stomach over so many fates that hung by such a fragile thread. It was a distraction from his goals and it would only bring pain in the long run.

But in the meantime, they were a source of comfort. Loneliness also no longer suited him. He’d realized it at the ball, but it had happened before then. After spending so much time traveling with Torvi, he’d remembered how much easier it was to have others around. After so many years alone in the forest, it had simply been something he’d forgotten as music had been, and he didn’t know if he could forget it all again. Bowyn wasn’t sure he even wanted to remember how to merely survive and forget how to live again.

So he pushed forward. He fought through the dread of not finding his human friends. He remembered how Boreas had always been willing to fight, and this was a little easier than facing the wyvern. Torvi and Belle were strong too, stronger than he, and he would find them. He kept reminding himself of that as he walked, kept thinking it until he believed it.

“Once we get there, and sell these damn scales, we should find someplace with food and strong drinks.” He suggested as the silence had started to return. Bowyn thought the most likely place he’d find Torvi and Belle might be a tavern, and he knew they’d at least know that would be the place to find him.

---

Time: Evening
Location: River Port
Interactions: Malachi@princess, Belle@Potter

Valok silently followed Malachi into the healing center. It was a place wholly soothing and inviting, and the atmosphere there made him uneasy. The building was brightly lit and warm, the few people inside approached with a peaceful demeanor, and nothing about it was familiar. It only amplified the side effects of his head injury; dizziness, nausea, anxiety. He didn’t understand the purpose of this; he didn’t need healing, he should heal on his own and allow pain to strengthen him. But it was not his place to argue with Malachi, and so he followed the elf’s order without question.

Once they were led to another room by a demihuman Valok watched the two fairies closely. Ingrained distrust overtook him, an immediate reaction to look at them with disdain and suspicion. Fairies, beings so opposite to dark elves. Creatures that celebrated only the light side of nature; growth, healing, and connection. Fairies who claimed to champion benevolence, but had stood by and watched the dark elves’ banishment. Celebrated in the exile of a race which represented the darker side of nature; sorrow, pain, and violence. When one of the fairies touched his hand it made his skin crawl. He was more prone to expect a knife to the back rather than a helping hand.

The fairy held his hand so lightly that after a moment he barely noticed it. He watched the light that emanated from her other hand with intense fascination. Her hand with its soft warm light gently touched his head, brushing against the lacerations and hair matted down with blood. Even more, than building itself, the healing touch of a fairy was beyond his realm of experience. There was warmth in it, the magic had an innate calming effect, and it was kind. He hadn’t expected kindness, not from Malachi, and certainly not from strange fairies.

Today alone he had seen more kindness from those he was taught to hate than from his kind. Malachi had saved his life, treated him like someone with value. What was his value? Was it to serve the rebellion, to fight for them? It seemed reasonable, but his value as a soldier was still not equivalent to these kindnesses. Did they think he’d have useful information on The Great King’s armies? Perhaps that was the reason, although he knew they would soon be disappointed in how little he knew. But the fae healer was even more perplexing. What benefit did healing him have for her? Just as the fae had been no friend to the dark elves, his people had shown them no kindness, no mercy. He would not have lifted a hand to help a fairy during his time with the army.

Valok exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. To breathe still hurt, and in the serenity of the healing center, he failed to keep from showing signs of pain. While the head injury was now healed, the injuries from the hug of the owlbear remained. The fairy took care of that as well. He wondered how much magic the fairy willingly wasted on him.

“Thank you.” He said, an attempt to repay the kindness. Gestures, he’d never known, didn’t fully understand. But ones, he wanted to repay.

Avalia

Time: Sunset
Location: River Port-Beach
Interactions: Lucia@Potter, Valamiir@Alivefalling, Valaeon@FunnyGuy, and Risa@princess

Leon followed Lucia towards the source of the horn, nearly walking straight into her arm when she stopped suddenly. He hung back and studied the small group that had formed around a fountain. He starred at the two large dragon men with a sense of awe and wonder. Dragonborn, that was what Lucia called them, and he couldn’t imagine how a skeleton could’ve won a war when the good guys had an army of dragon people. He would hardly call their entrance obnoxious; sure it was loud but it was also pretty epic, it had flair and boldness. This was the side of Avalia he was most excited to see. Great epic warriors, like from ancient stories from Earth, but even more wonderful. He stared at the shining armor and massive ax that adorn the blue Dragonborn, he really wanted to take pictures of them but the last thing he needed to do was offend giant dragon men.

Lucia had gone on to mention that the other person in the group might be Princess Risa. He’d barely noticed the small winged woman, but he’d never met royalty before so that was exciting. Leon scoffed and rolled his eyes when he was instructed to act like an elf and not use the same fake name.

“Well, now you just sound exactly like the voice in my head.” He joked before they headed towards the group. She greeted the two Dragonborn and then headed straight to for the fairy. Leon remained a few paces from the Dragonborn and folded his arms across his chest doing his best to look unimpressed by their presence.

“What a pleasant surprise, always a pleasure to be in the company of such mighty warriors. I’m Elrond.” Leon said with a nod of his head. He also straightened his posture and puffed out his chest some, feeling small in their presence.

“Oh hey, I love your hair.” He added with a smile as he looked over at the pink-haired fairy. Leon wasn’t entirely sure how most elves acted, but he was getting the idea that Lucia did not behave like a typical elf. He wondered if he should’ve played things colder, more haughty, like the few elven shopkeepers he’d met before. He also didn’t want to make a bad first impression on a princess with an army of dragon people. So he tried to look like he was only partially interested in what was going on here. Seem friendly, but like he also had better things to do with his time. He made sure not to stare at any of them for too long, reminding himself that these were totally normal people to see in Avalia.

Edenridge

Vin Davies

Name

Vincent Andrew Davies

Nicknames

Vin

Age

19

Gender

Male

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Relationship Status

Single

Appearance Details

• Hair: Brown | Curly | Long and wild
• Eyes: Hazel
• Height: 5'10
• Body Type: Lanky with lean muscle
• Clothing Style: Casual | Vin wears a lot of jeans, tie-dyed t-shirts, and hoodies.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Scar from a bullet on his left shoulder, beneath the scar is his only tattoo, a speech bubble from a comic.

Personality Traits

When people first meet Vin they see the laid back, mellow, stoner. He’s never had much of a temper, it’s easy for him to shrug most things off. He’s always been patient with other people, forgives easily, and listens more than he talks. It’s always been easier for him to see the good in others than in himself. He doesn’t like to let others down, to disappoint, but inevitably he does. Vin’s never been good with pressure or stress, when things get to be too much he needs a way to escape. He’s flaky, forgetful, and usually lost in his own head. He avoids responsibility, doesn’t really feel ready to grow up, and he certainly wasn’t ready to have his childhood ended in high school.

He's always been anxious, awkward, and quiet, especially around new people. If he's stoned he's a little more willing to put himself out there but he's never been the outgoing type. He doesn't like to bother other people with his own problems, tends to shy away from heavy topics. Vin's an optimist, he looks for the good in the world, finds comfort in things like nature, art, music, and weed. He's never been ambitious, was never one of those people who knew what they wanted to do with their lives. He was always more of a go with the flow type, he'd rather travel and see new and exciting things than have money or nice things.

Biography

Vin’s early life was easy, quiet, and comfortable. His parents made good money, he didn’t have to worry about much, always got everything he needed and most of what he wanted. He was always a shy quiet kid who didn’t like too much attention on him and having an outgoing older sister who was happy to soak up the attention made that even easier. Vin was always thankful to just fly under the radar, while his sister, Alison, had to deal with his parent’s constant scrutiny and pressure. She was their golden child, the one with accomplishments that his parents could brag about to their friends and he was free to just be himself. For a long time, his life was pretty chill, just the way he liked it, no pressure, no expectations.

Then, while at his first party during freshman year, Alison overdosed, and everything changed. He didn’t just have to deal with his sister’s sudden death but now he was no longer just chill stoner Vin, he was the kid brother of the dead cheerleader. People were paying so much extra attention to him. His parents seemed to deal with it by trying to force all their expectations onto him, micromanaging every aspect of his life. They had this perfect idealized version of their daughter and he was suddenly expected to fill in for that. She had always been better than him at school, sports, extracurriculars, and if Alison couldn’t live up to all of it, how was he supposed to do that?

Vin couldn’t take that kind of pressure, he hated having so much attention. He hated people giving him sad looks at school, strangers telling him how much his sister meant to them. People who hadn’t even known Alison, not really, and it was more like people were using his sister’s death to talk about themselves, how difficult it was for them, what a beautiful tragedy it all was. He hadn’t cared much for school before but now it was unbearable. To walk down the same halls, to walk past her friends, to see her picture memorialized in the school, to be surrounded with reminders of the void in his home. He only became more withdrawn, tried less, because even his best wasn’t really good enough. His parents got divorced during his junior year. He was shuffled back and forth between their separate houses and eventually his parents were too wrapped up in their own lives to bother much with him.

Then came senior year, gunfire in the hallways, and truly being face to face with the possibility of his own death. He didn’t want to die, Vin was absolutely terrified of the thought that he’d die without having lived. He was in the cafeteria during the shooting, took a bullet to the shoulder, and played dead for the rest of the pure hell that followed. Vin laid on the floor starring into the eyes of another kid as the light left them. He didn’t do anything to help or comfort, he was too afraid of being shot again, afraid he’d die too. The rest of that year is a fog, days just trying to get by, trying to get to the next day.

After high school Vin put off going to college, he needed more time to just be and not have to deal with everything. He has a job at a local bookstore, which he likes, it's quiet, and spends free time doing set designs and lighting for the community theatre. He sells weed on the side, nothing harder, and he hasn’t been to any parties since that first one freshmen year. He likes nature documentaries, just about any outdoor activity, and prefers small groups of people to large gatherings.

Family

Father, Andrew Davies, dentist
Mother, Ellen Davies, financial manager
Sister, Alison Davies, deceased

Misc.

Kyle Allen | 0BF091
Music

Guaranteed-Eddie Vedder
I Need A Forest Fire-James Blake ft Bon Iver
The Kids Are Alright-Barns Courtney
Nobody Opened the Door-Cobi

edited to add a second

Logan Rivers

Name

Logan Matthew Rivers

Nicknames

Mostly just goes by Logan

Age

20

Gender

Male

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Relationship Status

Single

Appearance Details

• Hair: Blonde | Short | Spikey or slicked back
• Eyes: Blue
• Height: 6’3
• Body Type: Muscular, broad-shouldered, athletic
• Clothing Style: Frat Boy Casual | Overpriced jeans and t-shirt, shirts with popped collars, shorts, several hockey jerseys, Bruins gear, and a couple of Bruins and Sox caps.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: A few scars here and there from hockey and from a car accident that messed up his right knee.

Personality Traits

Logan was always a loud, brash, outgoing kid. He was also someone who carried a lot of anger, and when he didn’t know how to deal with things he lashed out. He was driven, stubborn, and ambitious. He liked to party, have fun, always ready for a fight, often just for the fun of it. Throughout his childhood, but especially in high school, he had a well-earned reputation for being an asshole. One thing about Logan is that he doesn’t make excuses for himself, he is at least self-aware.

School was never his thing, most of his grades were gotten by cheating rather than earning them, but then how mattered less to him than the results. What did matter to him was hockey, that was what he was good at, what really clicked with him, and he put all his effort into it. In hockey, Logan found an outlet for everything wrong with his life. He was a high-energy kid with a quick temper and a lot of anger, on the ice was the one place where life made sense to him. Without that outlet, he resorts to self-destruction.

Logan’s never been able to move past the series of tragedies that marked his youth. He can’t let go of things like grief and anger, and he is even more at a loss for how to deal with his guilt over everything. Ever since the shooting, he’s lost his drive, his ambition to do anything but find ways to feel numb. He’s trying to be less of an asshole but it’s not something that comes easy for him.

Biography

On the outside Logan’s life looked pretty great, his dad made a lot of money, he grew up in a nice big house, got everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. He lost his mother when he was five, drug overdose, and Logan was the one who found her body. It’s one of the few things he doesn’t talk about, and after that, his dad was a lot more difficult to get along with. Logan was a very high-energy rebellious child, and his dad was a big fan of harsh discipline. It wasn’t a warm household, that had always come from his mom, and without her, Logan became more and more like his father. Angry all the time, cruel to others, prone to violent outbursts. That was his main role model.

Hockey was always his passion, the one thing he actually took seriously, put all his effort into. It was his outlet for all his excess energy, aggression, and frustration. Long hours practicing kept him out of his house, gave him a place that accepted him for who was, a group of friends he could relate to. He played right wing but more importantly acted as the team's enforcer, a goon, protecting his teammates and occasionally picking a fight, it was the ideal position for him. He loved it, it made him driven and ambitious, made him popular in high school. People cheered for him when he was on the ice and that was where life all made sense.

In high school, he was a star player on the hockey team, he was a rich kid, and a bully. He took Alison Davies’s death pretty hard, not because he’d ever known her but it reminded him so much of his mother. It brought up old wounds that had never healed and he dealt with those feelings by being even more of an asshole. Charlie Decker was a weird kid, an easy target for Logan, and he picked on him a lot. He did it because he was angry, he was in pain, and he didn’t know how to handle those things. Not that it matters why, because he knows he was a part of it, of why Charlie Decker came to school senior year ready to kill.

Logan didn’t see much of what happened that day, but he heard a lot of it. He heard the screaming and seemingly endless gunshots. The aftermath was all guilt, yet another thing he was unable to talk about or cope with. Instead, he found new terrible ways of dealing with things, drinking or getting high on whatever he could get his hands on. So many people had their futures taken the first day of senior year, but Logan went the extra mile to try and ruin his own future. A few months after the shooting Logan got plastered and wrapped his car around a pole. He messed up his knee, lost his hockey scholarship, not that there was any chance of him being able to play in college after that anyway. He’d always had a far-fetched hope of playing in the NHL, maybe even for the Bruins, but even losing that didn’t feel like punishment enough.

After high school, college was more of the same. He didn’t have hockey as an outlet, there was just a lot of drinking, drugs, anything that could make him feel numb. He did all things that were supposed to make him happy, went to parties, joined a frat, and had a string of meaningless hookups. For a short while, he even tried going to classes and finding something new to drive him but it was all hollow. He’d lost all ambition, nothing mattered to him, and even deeper than that was the notion that he didn’t deserve to have anything in his life that mattered. Now he’s back in Edenridge for the summer, maybe to find some sort of closure, maybe just to continue his spiral of self-destruction in a more familiar place, Logan’s really not sure.

Family

Father, Stephen Rivers, a corporate lawyer
Step-mother, Jenna Rivers, gold-digging trophy wife

Misc.

Alexander Ludwig | 59B9C1
Music

That Bastard Son-The Dead South
I Just Don’t Care That Much-Matt Maeson
Middle Finger-Dropkick Murphys
Bad Things-Rayland Baxter
Hit Somebody!-Warren Zevon

Avalia

Time: Evening
Location: River Port
Interactions: Malachi@princess, Belle@Potter

Valok took in the sights of the quiet seaside town as he limped along with Malachi, Belle, and her new owlbear. Although they were headed towards the healing center it had not occurred to Valok that it would be for him. He simply figured Malachi or Belle were simply far better at hiding injuries than he was. Amongst the dark elf army only those deemed important enough kept fairies for their healing abilities, this magic was not wasted on disposable soldiers. Malachi had already bandaged his wounds, an unfamiliar kindness, and for the dark elf that was more help than he was used to. Valok simply followed along, waiting until it was time to rest, time would either heal his wounds, or it would not. Death came for all things eventually, and with the knowledge that he might not end up undead, it was a much calmer possibility.

Another animal approached them with a note attached to its head as they walked through River Port. It seemed a less than secure way to deliver messages to people and Valok only continued to follow the others paying little attention to the dog. As they passed the dog the sound of a loud battle horn filled the quiet streets, echoing through town. Valok nearly jumped out of his own skin and immediately looked around for the source of the sound. When he could see no source for it nearby he turned his attention to Malachi.

“Do you know the source of that horn? Is it your allies?” He asked the light elf. It was a sound that was almost certainly meant to summon allies or alert others to a threat. There was the electric excitement that the sound meant the possibility of a fight, even injured Valok would never turn down the opportunity to test his ability, to prove himself. He wasn’t sure how pressing the other’s injuries were, and healing centers were not something the dark elf was used to relying on. To fight and to win was proof that he had earned his survival, to do so injured was even more validating. He was raised and taught to live only for his next fight, even if injured, even if survival seemed unlikely. It was an urge that ran even deeper than mere instinct.

---

Time: Evening
Location: River Port-Beach
Interactions: Lucia@Potter

After drinks, they had parted ways with Orland and Nur, and shortly after that, Vaeril had wandered off as well. Leon was grateful for the brief moment to catch Lucia alone, he did have exciting news to share. He hadn’t wanted the others to know about the strange invitation he’d gotten from the dog, he still wasn’t sure what Vaeril was all about. While Nur and Orland seemed nice enough, and Orland was definitely a human they hadn’t really had a chance to talk about the rebellion and he didn’t exactly trust Nur based on her cold reaction to the dog. Leon figured if they were meant to be at the meeting hall tomorrow then the dog would’ve invited them as well. Lucia on the other hand was entirely trustworthy and he was excited to tell her about the note he’d gotten. Lucia however asked him about his weird reaction at the cafe, an incident he’d almost forgot about.

“Oh that, nah it wasn’t Vaeril, but when I gave my fake name I heard a voice in my head telling me I should’ve chosen something more elven. But I haven’t heard it again so maybe I just imagined it. Hey, remember that dog from earlier? Well, she gave me a note and it says to be at the meeting hall tomorrow afternoon.” Leon was excited to have something useful to contribute, a possible lead on a rebel meet-up, or maybe just a party hosted by the dogs of River Port, either way, it seemed like a good way to spend tomorrow afternoon. Up until getting the note, Leon hadn’t felt like he’d done much that was useful, he’d just been keeping himself entertained while Lucia handled pretty much everything.

Leon jumped to his feet when the horn sounded throughout River Port, he had no idea what it meant but it certainly sounded exciting. He grinned at Lucia who looked more than ready to shot whoever was making the loud noise.

“Lucy you gotta relax some, I’m guessing you’re not supposed to shoot people for being too loud. It’s frowned upon back on Earth and it won’t help us blend in here. You sure you’re alright? I mean, I already said I’m all in, being here, in Avalia, basically saved my life. So everything else, a big rebellious adventure, that’s all just the cherry on top. Don’t worry about me, I laugh in the face of danger. Whatever you want to do I’m happy to follow. And you may not be cunning, but you’re clever, and that’s loads better. Don’t undersell Avalia’s best elf.” Leon said with a grin. He didn’t mind the acting or the possibility of danger, these weren’t new things for him. What was new, and exciting, was having a friend like Lucia and the possibility of doing something good and worthwhile with his life.

Avalia

Time: Afternoon
Location: Forests, now closer to River Port than Roshmi
Interactions: Cora @Potter, Elsea @Tae, Ezeri @Alivefalling

“If your plane is so lonely why not stay here? We certainly enjoy your company Ezeri and I hope you at least find ours, tolerable.” Cade offered after she finished her story about the fox beast. Ezeri’s world sounded so impossibly lonely to him, it was hard to imagine how anyone tolerated such a life. His face lit up into a large grin when Elsea mentioned one of her friends was the rebel princess herself.

“I had the honor of meeting Princess Risa at the ball. I would not worry too much, she is a very brave fairy and if your friend is a fox I have no doubt he is fierce and crafty. We will find them in town, I have no doubt. Avalia looks after those who look after her.” Cade spoke with absolute certainty as he rested a hand on Elsea’s shoulder. He put his faith in a just cause, one that served Avalia and he believed with all his heart that the world wanted to be set right, to have natural balance restored. This would bring them luck, just as their paths had been fortunate enough to encounter a unicorn. Just as he and Ayita had found Sakura when all had seemed most dire against the dracolich. Avalia had led him to those he needed to find because he trusted it would, and he now believed there was a reason they had run into Ezeri as well.

---

Time: Afternoon
Location: Forests near River Port
Interactions: Zephyrin@Howlsofwinter, Kenia@Tae, Clara@princess

“I’m a winter fairy, Clara, the cold is like home to me.” Bowyn said shaking his head as the human offered her cape. He went straight to work helping Kenia salvage what they could from the wyvern corpse. Work would be the best way to warm up anyhow, and his mind welcomed focusing on the task. Kenia went right for the poisoned stinger on the creature’s tail, while the first thing Bowyn went for was one of the large canine fangs. The wyvern’s partially frozen jaws made it easier for him to extract the tooth. Smashing off bits of frozen flesh around it and using a knife to free the rest of it. Once he had the tooth he grinned as he admired it, Bowyn had a plan for this fang once they made it into town, and he slipped it into his pocket.

“Too bad indeed, we certainly wouldn’t want to get mixed up in any trouble.” Bowyn said, offering a smirk to Kenia as Clara explained that she wasn’t safe company. He helped skin the less damaged portions of the wyvern.

“There is nothing I want more than to bring about the end of Aklenroth, that evil skeleton guy, and to help keep you humans safe in this.” Bowyn said once Kenia had welcomed her to the rebellion.

“You know I’ve got a human friend with the same power as you, got another with hydromancy, hopefully, we’ll find them in River Port. Maybe we can all share a few drinks once we get there.” Bowyn offered, keeping his mind on something to look forward to as he worked.

Avalia

Time: Afternoon
Location: River Port-Gadgets and Conveniences
Interactions: Lucia@Potter, Vaeril@Alivefalling, Nur@dreamingflowers, Orland@Funnyguy

“So it does, you clearly have excellent tastes.” Leon said Nur mentioned his hair matched her dress and linked her arm with his own. He held up the memory glass to take a quick selfie of the two of them right at that moment and noted that she was definitely not an elf. Her dark hair and lashes only served to further accentuate her bright green snake-like eyes. Her eyes made him a bit uncomfortable like he was in the presence of a predator, but his excitement about meeting creatures other than elves quickly overtook his apprehension.

Orland seemed surprised by his fake name, mentioning that he recognized it from somewhere. Maybe the name hadn’t been such a mistake, seemed like it was common enough that this other elf had encountered it. Then Orland began strumming a familiar song, and Leon found himself almost sure that he’d encountered another disguised human. It was a lot of coincidence, but just to make absolutely certain they were on the same page he threw out a reference to the same old movie that he recognized the song from.

“The stories of the greatness of Vaeril are truly a tale as old as time.” He added to Darius with a grin.

Once they began heading towards another shop a most magnificent creature bounded towards him with the most ungraceful gait imaginable. It was a mess of jowls and wrinkly skin, and its eyes were full of pure excitement as it nearly collided right into him and Nur both. The large dog nearly knocked him over again as it aggressively rubbed itself around his legs. Leon immediately let go of Nur's arm and knelt down to give the dog proper attention.

“Who’s a good dog, you’re a good dog.” He said rather loudly as he rubbed the big floppy ears. The dog then shook its head and released a surprising amount of slobber in every direction and its tail flailed about wildly, smacking against anything nearby. Leon continued to pet the big wrinkly dog and gave a quick check to its undercarriage and noted that it was a girl dog.

“Who’s the prettiest girl in the world, you are. Yeah, just the prettiest doggo in the whole world.” He continued talking to the dog as if it were a small child, as he looked around for whoever owned the dog but didn’t see anyone coming over to collect her. While he was distracted looking around the dog dropped a slobber-soaked paper into his hand. He starred at the paper and then at the dog. The paper, damp and just barely legible, read ‘Meeting Hall tomorrow at 2.’ Had he just been invited to a party by a dog? Avalia was, without a doubt, the greatest place. He smiled at the dog and slipped the paper into his pocket.

“Did you bring me trash? That’s so nice, what a good puppy. Thank you.” He said beaming as he played with the dog’s slobbery wrinkly face. In response, the dog licked his face a few times before running off again. The dog only paused its wild run through the market to snatch some sort of unattended pastry from a nearby dessert shop off the counter. Then she continued her run through the market with her snack before disappearing from view.

“Hey Lucy did you see that? I’m very popular in River Port today.” Leon said grinning as he wiped dog slobber off his face.

Avalia

Time: Afternoon
Location: River Port-Gadgets and Conveniences
Interactions: Lucia@Potter, Vaeril@Alivefalling, Nur@dreamingflowers, Orland@Funnyguy

“We met Vaeril during lunch and he offered to take us shopping. How could we say no to the coolest elf in town.” Leon said to the red-eyed elf that introduced himself as Orland Legolas. Legolas, a name he was now thankful he hadn’t given as his own, seeing as how another elf here had it already. Who would’ve thought that the most famous fictional elf on Earth was an actual elf’s name here in Avalia? Then he wondered if Tolkien had actually been to Avalia, that’d be pretty cool, maybe Lucia would know the answer to that one. Then he remembered that he should also introduce himself.

“Nice to meet you, Orland, I’m Frodo.” He added after Lucia had introduced herself as well. As annoying as it was to continue with his poorly chosen fake name, Vaeril would definitely notice if he changed it now. Nope, he was probably stuck being called Frodo for the rest of their time in the river port. Best to just get used to it.

“Whoa that’s a cool instrument you got there, know any good songs?” Leon asked Orland as he looked at the weird guitar the guy was attaching a leather strap to. He wasn’t paying much attention to Lucia as she attempted to signal something to him, he was was much more interested in hearing if the others were coming with them and excited to see if Orland would play them a song. Currently the ‘I’m Blue’ song was playing in a never-ending loop in his head when he wasn’t distracted by random things for sale in Avalia. Right about now he’d more than welcome hearing any other song.

“Thanks Vaeril, hey say cheese.” He added as the elf paid for the things they had picked out. He snapped a quick picture of the guy while he still had the sunglasses on, managing to catch the grumpy cat man in the background as well.

“I guess Odds and Ends it is, looking for anything particular Lucy?” He asked turning to Lucia once he’d gotten a quick snap of the memory of his first big shopping trip in Avalia. The memory glass was perfect, he’d look like just another elf on vacation in a seaside town, a perfect cover for why he was so enthusiastic about everything. He would be Frodo the wacky elven tourist, and that sounded like a fun cover to play.

---

Time: Afternoon
Location: Forests north of Roshmi City
Interactions: Malachi@princess, Belle@Potter

“The Roshmi Grand Ball? No, I am not meant for such important events. The guards there, they are there as a reward, for service and loyalty, most are of higher birth status. Not like me. I was trained for battle, to be sent out to squash rebellions, hunt down fugitives or traitors, for assignments where they needed expendable soldiers.” Valok spoke with a detached tone, as he had accepted he was expendable long ago. In the grand scheme of things his life mattered little, he was raised to serve a purpose, his life and eventual death were for the betterment of his people.

“But I was in Roshmi City, there was a message played of a fairy speaking about the rebellion. It was not the message I had expected to hear, and I liked what she said. It sounded,” Valok paused for a second as he tried to think of the right word for it.

“Hopeful.” He continued. That seemed like the best word for it, though it was a word he knew, it wasn’t something he had ever really felt before. There had never been the hope of improving his status in life, or of having any control over it, only the acceptance that he would die in the life he was born into. The concept that he could choose something different from what fate had laid out before him, was so new and alien to him. It was still hard to accept, that he could decide the path he took. He could still make life better for dark elves, and he might even be able to do that without becoming something cruel.

“Before that, I helped hunt humans, in Chesm. It was my first real assignment outside of Daka. There, my commanders tortured a human and anyone who helped them. At first for information, and then for fun, for spectacle. It was horrific.” Valok shuddered at the memory of it. The mere thought of Chesm sent chills, made him feel sick. Even though he had only played a small part in it, standing guard to keep the crowds from intervening, he had been a part of it.

“I didn’t want to become that. I was afraid that I would. So I left, I wandered, south, until I heard the message in Roshmi. This seemed a better path, I have to fight for something, that is all I am, all I know how to do. I trust you, Malachi, as a leader. You are an honorable man. And you saved my life, I will follow your command.” Valok saw no reason to hide things. His attention turned from Malachi to Belladonna, who had a familiar look across her face. There were a great many things that Valok did not understand, but what he did understand were pain and sorrow. He saw that in Belladonna’s eyes, and he watched as she fiddled with the owlbear. He wondered if she was pained from a physical injury from the fight, or if its source was something deeper.

“The owlbear is not injured, it is not necessary for you to carry it. If you plan to train it for battle, coddling will not make it strong. You should think of a strong name for it, something that will strike fear in your enemy’s hearts when it follows you into battle.” Valok said, attempting a smile that resembled more of a wince than anything. This was a lot of talking, it was really only making him more tired than simply walking, and he wondered how far they were from their destination. Belladonna had also used a significate amount of magic, he could only assume that she must be tired as well. He thought thinking of a name for the owlbear might take her mind off whatever seemed to trouble her.

Avalia

Time: Afternoon
Location: Forests north of Roshmi City
Interactions: Malachi@princess, Belle@Potter

Though he would never admit it, Valok was thankful when they took a brief break from the walking. He only nodded to Malachi, not sure what the other elf meant by his words. He did not consider himself brave, he was made for battle, to follow orders, and that was all he did. Belladonna offered a similar sentiment, the human also seemed worried by his injuries. He thought she might be better off worrying about the owlbear that pecked at her face, a behavior that would be far less amusing when it was full grown. He decided that surely they must think him useful, as a warrior for the rebellion, there was no other reason to explain their concern with him. This was good, if he was useful to the rebellion they would keep him around, and he could learn more. He would have the chance to fight for something different and maybe that was what he needed to feel the sense of purpose he was supposed to have felt in the dark elf army.

“My injuries are unlikely to be fatal. But to go out fighting and to be remembered for strength in battle would be the highest honor.” He said to both of them, he wondered if light elves and humans desired something different from death.

“If and when I do die, and either of you are around, would you burn my body? I do not wish to become one of the undead. Or you could feed me to the small owlbear, I believe they eat mainly meat.” Valok asked, not worried about voicing such a treasonous request in front of these two. Dark Elves did not burn their dead, they allowed them to be used in the undead army as it was seen as a great honor, and that was the only fate he truly feared. But to rebels, such a request would not be seen as an act of treason the way it would amongst his own people.

Avalia

Time: Afternoon
Location: Forests near River Port
Interactions: Zephyrin@Howlsofwinter, Kenia@Tae, Arwen?@princess

As he watched the wyvern draw its last haggard breath, Bowyn grinned with satisfaction. He had no interest in why the wyvern attacked, only the sense of victory for having killed it. And with that feeling came the guilt, the knowledge that this wasn’t how a fairy was supposed to feel about killing. He shouldn’t get any joy from it, killing with magic was a deep perversion of a gift made to protect and celebrate nature. He had used that gift not only to kill dark elves but now a creature of the forest. One that could not reasonably be held accountable for its actions, it wasn’t an action that should bring him joy, but to watch it die had brought him a spark of that. It had killed Boreas, and he felt the missing weight upon his shoulder. He had nothing to dull that pain, not even a drink to stop it from all crushing down on him.

The thought of Boreas brought a heavy weight to his chest and it was hard to breathe. His only friend for so many years, gone. Beady eyes that he could trust not look at him and see what others surely saw. The reason he couldn’t go back to his own village. The knowledge that when his own people saw him they must know; that out of dozens who had died he was the least worthy to still draw breath. The first time he’d ever killed a dark elf he had found it cathartic, it had felt like validation that he was worth something. Worth life for having taken it from another, proof that he had more strength than he thought. He had found himself horrified at this part of himself. He stayed away from violence as much as possible, and that had made it easier to pretend it wasn’t part of his nature. He had watched a massacre, seen the evil in those willing to give in to that nature. It hadn’t been what he wanted for himself back then. But it was clear that there was power in that, the wyvern lay dead, and he survived. They had all survived, except for Boreas, but the bird knew what he was doing, he was making sure they all stayed safe, he had shown Bowyn how to be brave. It hadn’t been mercy or kindness that had saved them, it had been through violence that they all now lived.

Bowyn knew that he was not a good man, but good men didn’t win wars, didn’t overthrow kings, and couldn’t protect those close to them. Bowyn knew he would go to horrible lengths to achieve his goals. He also knew he’d have to keep that part of himself buried until necessary. If others saw it, he’d be alone again. He’d thought he’d been alone before, but he’d always had Boreas at his side, to force him to keep going. Now, now what did he have? He had a chance at vengeance, for everything he’d lost. A chance to, if not destroy, at least hurt the lich he held most responsible. He had Torvi and Belle, who somehow cared about him, somehow managed to make the rest of the world seem a little more like a place he could stand. He had this new group, he wasn’t nearly as close to them, but he wanted to keep them safe too. None of them had run, they had all fought together, and that bonded him to them. They were all worthy of his trust, and he found them all to be good company.

Even though the fight was done, he still felt impossibly cold from his own magic. He shivered uncontrollably and tried to calm himself enough to feel warmth again. Before the forest here had felt almost unbearably warm and now warmth seemed like a distant memory. His teeth chattered and his skin had remnants of frost upon it. His attention turned from his own thoughts to Arwen who moved closer and drew him into a hug. For a moment he remembered warmth, felt the cold of his magic wane, and Bowyn felt calm again. He no longer saw his own breath appearing in clouds from the cold that radiated around him.

“Thank you. I guess I was wrong, you fight well human, but I still don’t plan to ditch you in the forest.” He tried to offer Arwen a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. He followed Arwen over to a tree where he placed his own flower crown on the ground as well. He hadn’t cried for Boreas, the attempt had frozen to his face during the fight. He was too exhausted for tears now anyway. Instead, he managed a sad smile as Kenia built a rock monument and engraved a wyvern scale for Boreas. He was more than a bit surprised that the rest took the time to pay tribute to his friend. This also brought him warmth, he did not feel as alone as he thought he would without his friend. Kenia placed Boreas’s flower crown in his hand and began to sing a mournful song. He placed the flower crown beneath the wyvern scale and smiled at how shiny the grave marker was.

“Boreas always loved shiny things, he would like this a lot. Thank you.” Bowyn said softly.

“He would expect us to continue, we shouldn’t stay here long. We should take what we can from the beast; its horns, hide, teeth, they’ll be worth something at the market. Shouldn’t let it go to waste.” Bowyn added as he looked back over to the corpse of the wyvern. It was easier to think practically, there were things that needed to be done, he had to focus on that now. If he spent too long thinking about loss, and about Boreas, he would only lose the will to keep going, and it would be so much easier to just sit and wallow. They had to make it to the river port, once they were somewhere safe, then he could allow himself to feel the pain. Right now, he was too numb and exhausted for it all, but the grief loomed, threatening to hit him all at once if he let it. When it did hit, he needed to not be sober, needed something to soften its blow.