The first time you meet Fil, he’s shoulders deep in a pond, deep in the forest, far away from the elven city. You’ve heard the rumors: how cold hearted and ruthless he is, a war machine like no other.

You had come to find the herbs near the pond, but you’re fixed in place when his cold eyes meet yours: unfeeling, isolated, but you’re drawn to them.

“What’s an elf like you doing around here? Shouldn’t you be back in the city, all warm and cozy?”

He sounds resentful.