Garrus Valerion

Garrus Valerion kneels down and reaches into his left side bag. Dirty, earthen fingers claw for a distinctive shape. A small oval seed, smooth to the touch. After rummaging for a second he final procures it.

A wave of his right hand brings a glisten of emerald light and satisfaction to his face.

"Be strong and grow little one. May Silvanus guide you."

The deed being done, Garrus stands up, picks up his walking staff and begins the long march back to Daggerford. Soaring above him, his faithful familiar, a celestial owl named "Merwyn" guides his way out of the dense forest.

Glimpsing stars through the canopy, Garrus checks the date for what seems like the first time in forever. "It's my birthday." he thinks to himself, "I guess it's about time I head back."

His mind begins to reel about the past 7 years spent in the forest. All of the time that has led up until this moment rushes back to him. His childhood in the Summerset isles, endless sunsets, the smell of good berry pie fresh from the oven, a childhood any man would dream of. "Man."... that word stuck with him. Being Half-Elf the word "Man" all of a sudden had a strange unwelcomed company in his reflexive vocabulary. "All this time spent out here with the wood folk I suppose."

His Elf mother came to mind. He wishes he had memories of his father. She says he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. A Bard second to none. His harp could tell the tales of the Gods she would say.

His mind shifts. He thinks about his time at the Wizard Academy of Camlorn. Tedious and boring study sessions in class rooms and lecture halls. Endless assignments from Arch-Mages and faculty. He was glad to finally be on his own, doing real research that meant something.

Following Merwyn until night became day Garrus finally saw the familiar city-scape of Daggerford. He could see black clouds of rain pouring into town.

"Welcome! I'll be with you in just a moment!" Garrus' eyes meet the gaze of an older gentleman, whose white hair and sunken eyes betray his years. The stains on his apron, and the flagons of ale he hurriedly carries to patrons betray his craft. He eyes the staff in Garrus' right hand.. "You're a cut above the normal riff raff we get in here, who are usually too lost in their mugs or the barmaid's chest to notice what's going on around them. What brings you to Daggerford?"

"Just passing through," Garrus replies.

"Well you picked a hell of a day to visit! There's to be a hanging in about an hours time. A red wizard, no less!" He'd heard of these Red Wizards. Where they go, terror and destruction follow. Garrus peers out the window, and true enough, a crowd has begun to gather in the town square. He turns back to the barkeep, but he has left to break up the fight that is starting on the other side of the tavern. An Orc bellows something about his cloak.

Garrus drops a few coins on the counter, swallows the last of his drink, and heads to the door. "If there's to be death in Daggerford today, I may as well get a good seat!"