Ivasen sits by his small little home in the elven village of Uradun, located in the southeast of the continent of Revatolia. He dances his pristine elven dagger across his fingers, threatening to accidentally cut a finger off if he were to be careless. A smug grin is wide across his angular face, his tone haughty and arrogant as they come

“Greetings lesser one, what brings you to this wonderful city, full of wonderful elves. Something you are very clearly not.”