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Race Elf
Gender Male
Guild Ranger
Instance Prime
Relatives Samsaren, Synamon


Maltris Remlane of Elanthia, an Elf.
He has a pair of pointed ears and an almond-shaped face with a narrow brow and angular jawline accented by high, vivid cheekbones, and mismatched eyes, one blue-green and the other blue-grey. His ash-blonde hair is shoulder length and fine, and is worn unkempt. He has tanned skin and an athletic build.
He is tall for an Elf.

You are wearing an austere uaro's'sugi (head scarf) of unadorned black Musparan silk, a tooled leather Kuniyo emblem hung from a tarnished silver chain, a green suede tunic with a dark brown leather collar embossed with gilded wolverines, a wide leather arm cuff branded with the crest of the Ranger guild, a scrap-fabric Ilithic apple sapling in the full flower of first bloom, some warcat suede fighting pants with narrow leather lashings and bronze buckles, a supple raw silk hunter's bag with a palladium clasp and some steel-toed leather boots..

Here's the story, of a range-y Ranger, who was living amidst the trees so green...

Warm spring air swirls around you, the heady scent of flowers after a gentle rain hangs in the air. The wilderness is fresh and new, and it is the best time to be a Ranger, even if you are lost in the woods. Paths open in front of you, you simply have to choose your direction.

A steely grey wolf bounds up to you. All legs and ears, the baby wolf jumps and nips at the legs of your pants. He yaps excitedly and you offer him a piece of dried meat from your pouch, but he refuses, instead he pulls at the bottom of your pant leg as if he wants you to follow him.

"What is it, boy," you ask, as the wolf runs toward the head of a dark trail that seems to materialize from nothing. The trees separate, their branches held back by a magical force, a faint path shimmers, bekoning you. "Where does that lead?"

Bouncing excitedly he runs back and forth between you and the trail, urging you forward. Just as you step onto the path, the branches close in behind you, leaving you no choice but to follow your new friend.

Following the narrow path, the trees seem to shrink before your eyes, not getting smaller, but younger. The grey wolf slows and falls in place next to you, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest. A heavy mist rises up around you, sounds of an unseen battle battering your senses. You feel the rush of air as arrows fly past and braches break and fall at your feet.

A young Elven boy with ash-blonde hair runs past you, bow in hand. He stops and turns to aim but a shrill scream stops him in his tracks.

"Run!" Wrought with emotion, a voice next to you pleads. The child's mismatched eyes widen and he begins back towards you, rage twisting his features, falling to the ground in front of you he grasps an unseen hand. "Go, you must go. There is more for you to do."

Tears of rage and sadness flow down tanned cheeks, the boy turns and runs.

The mist clears bringing you back to reality, a cold nose pushes against your hand. The young wolf has grown, no longer a baby, but still very young. His gangly legs are stronger, longer, and his body is beginning to show signs of filling out.

"What was that?" Straining your eyes you stare off into the distance. The young wolf yips at you, urging you to move along the path.

As you walk the trees grow taller and the path becomes steeper and rocky. The heavy mist begins to rise again, dark haired Elves materialize and disappear around you, whispered voices speaking in Ilithic.

"He is not one of us, we can't force him to stay."

"Our ways are still foreign to him, even after all this time."

"You can take the Elf out of the forest, you just can't take the Forest out of the Elf."

The path flattens and suddenly drops off, you find yourself at the edge of a steep cliff. A young Elven man appears before you, staring down at the forest below.

"Maltris, the Mountain is no place for one so in tune with the Forest," a steady voice intones. "If you can not see this life as the better one, we have done all we can for you."

"I thank you for what you have done for me," the young man says, a wry smile playing across his face. "I suppose you are right, rocks and caves are far superior to trees and daylight after your people have been held captive for so long. It is time for me to choose real freedom."

The forest seems to rise up around him, he gives a shrill whistle and grins as a baby wolf stumbles out of the trees. "Come," he says, motioning to the pup, "let's find you some milk."

The mist falls and you are left standing on the shimmering path. Your companion presses against your leg, his muscular body, strong and lean, with powerful jaws and the bright eyes of a wolf in his prime.

You walk on and the landscape begins to change once more, the smell of burning trees and broken branches litter the path. Sounds of battle rise up with the mist. You feel your heart begin to pound as you reach for your bow, but the wolf urges you forward until you come to a clearing.

Bodies of Humans and Elves alike materialize at your feet, the clash of sword against shield and sounds of arrows zooming past your head freeze you in place. In the clearing a Human Paladin stands his ground, swinging a gleaming bastard sword and pushing back hordes of desert soldiers with his battered shield. Arrows fly from the trees, hitting their mark and dropping the Outcast warriors one by one.

An Elven man moves through the throng, narrowing his eyes he focuses on a target, large branches crashing onto the heads of his foes. He makes his way to the center of the battle where he stands his ground, back to back with the tall Paladin, until the last of their attackers lie at their feet.

"Well done, my friend," the Human says, surveying the field of battle.

"Can we talk about your lack of effort," the Ranger asks, laughing as the Paladin gives him a playful shove and the pair fade into the mist.

White fur now frames the wolf's muzzle, his eye still bright but his body a little slower. You know without prompting to follow as he leads you back down the trail. The landscape turns into rolling hills and streams flow across the path. You feel your muscles burn as you climb up and down only to wade through water. You are relieved when the mist rises again giving your body a chance to recover.

"Hey! Ouch!" A Human Paladin woman exclaims, bending to rub her shin.

"Come on, climb faster," laughs the Elven Ranger as he runs past her and climbs a tree with ease.

"If you keep kicking me, I am going to need an Empath for the broken leg and then I will never make it," she responds, glaring up at him.

Dropping out of a tree to land in front of her, the Elf laughs and kicks her again. Just as he reaches the trunk she stares intently at him, freezing him in place. Smiling sweetly she kicks him in the shin before pulling herself up into the branches.

The sound of laughter floats through the air as the mist clears. Chuckling you gaze down at the wolf, his eyes still clear but his body showing his age. He pulls himself up to stand tall and proud, leading you forward along the shimmering trail. This time things begin to look more familiar, and you realize you are reaching the end.

As the mist rises for the last time the trail becomes a wooden floor and you find yourself in an office. A Human Paladin stands gazing proudly at the Elven Ranger, a stunning Elven woman at his side. A young Elven Trader smiles as she hands a paper to the clerk.

"Brother," the Paladin says, clasping the shoulder of the Ranger, pulling him into a hug. "Not only in battle, but in name."

A grinning Elven woman rushes over and gives him a smooch on the cheek before shoving cupcakes in everyone's hand.

As the mist falls you stand alone at the end of the trail. The shimmering trail fades away and you find yourself back where you began. You give a shrill whistle and a baby wolf stumbles out of the trees to sit at your feet. This time, instead of following him, you know he will be your companion, and it is time to find your own adventure.


The preceding has been brought to you by the player of Synamon, with the consent and approval of Maltris. (not like he really had a choice) GOOD DAY!