Role

Chapter 1

Avarazza woke up. She was homeless. She had been treated like a runt and
an outsider before, but now she was cold, alone, and thrown out into the
swamp to rot.

Who was she and what happened you ask?

Her name was Avarazza Nae'figuel. And dark-elves are not known for
patience, kindness, or mercy. Her mother had an affair with a human of
questionable scruples. Avarazza, her mother, nor her dark-elven 'clan'
knew nor cared that her father was not altogether a bad man. Perhaps
nature won out this round.

Avarazza's mother, more out of a sense of self-preservation than love,
tried like hell to hide her from the enclave. She swore that her family's
skin just got darker as they matured. She said that her line had
naturally softer ears, the result of a devil's pact. The dark elven
witches were skeptical but they were certain the truth would come in
time. And come it did. The truth is, Avarazza didn't have the malevolent
streak in her.

It wasn't that she was squeamish or particularly repulsed by the swamp
that the enclave resided in. She found the blood sacrifices and rituals
distasteful, to be certain, but more than anything she simply didn't have
the abject cruelty that her half-kin around her had. And this made her an
outcast.

And then, as she got older...her skin stayed pale. Her ears stayed
blunted. And finally, the elder matrons, so well versed with blood, did a
small ritual to determine that she was indeed far from pure.

And so, she was thrown out into the swamp. Her blood too close but too
far to be used in a ritual. The dark-elves left her with a parting gift.
They wove their dark rituals and put a curse upon her flawed bloodline.
They poisoned her very blood, and left her to rot.