Role

Chapter 2

Many more winters, many successful hunts... and many fruitless ones.
Gral Trefen, the elder... how old was he when she left? Eighty,
perhaps. And he had had longevity not often seen before, yet was
becoming sickly around those times. She would no doubt last longer.
A clear proof that the blessings of the Ancients did not only sharpen
her body and soul... but also temper, harden them. And recently, ever
since the strange... episode with the peculiar imp-creature, she had
felt even more at ease, the weight of the winters lesser and the
wisdom brought by them feeling even clearer and easier to grasp. The
odd mark left in her arm had needed some getting used to. At times,
it seemed as if it was... smirking, mocking her when her stalking
went wrong. Perhaps she just had imagined it, as it seemed less so
now.

She certainly needed the clarity now, with that particularly loud and
drunk elf about. Always offering his opinions and advice, smelling so
much of alcohol that it made her eyes sting. Luckily, not the most
confrontational one, else she just might lose the serenity.