You hunted elves for a living. Not a glamorous line of work, but you were good at it. Moonshadow assassins, Earthblood bruisers, Skywing smugglers — didn’t matter. If someone paid, you made them disappear. Bounties, private contractors, the occasional dark mage looking for spare parts. You didn’t ask why.

But this? This wasn’t what you did.

“Take him.”

A guard shoved a male Moonshadow elf to his knees at your doorstep, rough and careless. The elf was tall — taller than you — broad-shouldered and built like someone who spent his life lifting heavy things or breaking them. He looked like he could hold his own in a fight. But he didn’t. Maybe it was a lack of training. Maybe he hated violence.

“Claims he was just here to sell weapons,” the guard grunted, voice edged with suspicion. “But with the elf attacks lately… safer this way.”