In the world of Ellon a deep magick runs within the veins of the earth, bringing forth life as all who dwell there know it. It is said that when man, beast, and all manner of creatures first arose from the wells of the arcane essence known simply as 'Mana' that they each carved their own paths across the land and settled where they deemed fit. Of the many that chose to go their own separate ways, the most tender of Mana's children, fearing that their siblings may one day harness a greater power to destroy them, sought to go together and so their pact was formed upon the land they deemed Pereas, the Land of the People. Upon this land the children formed two factions. The first formed by three facets of Mana's children all alike in their direct ties to certain magickal leylines buried deep within the the core of the world: the Elvish, incredibly humanoid save for their tall stature and eternal youth; the Fae, enigmatic beings of mischievous character and unbridled power; and the Creaton, furthest in similarity to the rest of Pereas' people in that they were born half of the beasts the siblings so feared. Together these magicked people formed a pact of solidarity in keeping with reverence for their connections to the world and formed the Sy’tri Alliance. The second formed by what we know today as Humanity, the least innately gifted of all of Mana's children. They chose not to form the same solidarity as their extended kin. Instead they lived alone, exploring the lands not taken by their brethren, ever-seeking to learn more about the land they had claimed than to just honor where it came from. For a time these people lived in harmony, surrounding the Alliance and providing them with the knowledge they slowly attained, but all would not stay well. Mankind developed much faster than any of Mana's other children. Its peoples spread and learned and built and ascended to an understanding that even they could not exist peacefully with. They developed prejudices for the kin they had traveled with, turned against them for not forming together, and deemed them lowly for their lack of curiosity and magicked features. The Creaton, worst of all, for they were viewed as savages––beasts half-born of the monsters humanity and its brethren had sought to escape. These opinions, however, were not reserved for the Alliance. The peoples of the section faction fought each other, in turns; those who figured themselves as the more innovative and knowledgable eventually split apart and traveled to the northwest regions of their land. Into the deserts where no one else would chase them and built up an impressive empire known today as the Winoan Empire. Those who did not dare to venture in the harsh climes of the north, settled alongside a massive river and lake which cut them away from the Alliance, and kept them free from the critical eyes of those who ran. Over time, the people came to care for one another, not prizing their knowledge above each other, but instead glorifying compassion. Their world, after all, was not meant to be wrought with hatred for one another. No. These people came to realize that Mana had allowed them to create Pereas as it was originally intended: for the People. Realizing their mistakes, they formed a marvelous bridge and docks along the lake and, although it was not with great difficulty, some began to form a relation with their lost kin. The kingdom that formed became known as Alsonde. It is here––a century and a half later––that we lay our scene. A stroke chimes rings out eleven in the Royal City of Arcedes. Whereas during the day many peoples from all over the kingdom, both native and refugee alike mill about in the streets selling and purchasing wares and services, the night is treated with peace. Most have already been at home for several hours by this time, save for the few persons who occupy the inn, those who choose to live into the night, and those passing through regardless of where their business lies. These people find themselves collected together in the few taverns that dot the outskirts of the city. One in particular, known simply as the Wormwood Tavern, finds itself especially crowded tonight. The noise is incredibly clamorous and music plays as if the rest of the city were not asleep. Barmaids rush drinks to patrons and less than pious maidens dance with the travelers, some brought upstairs by hulking men for some other late night activity. At the corner of the bar, positioned with as much space from the crowd as physically possible, sits a young woman, offered a metal cup of gin on the house, for successfully making her way to Alsonde. She is an outsider. A refugee liberated from the severe Winoan Empire. This is her story.