((The war would not end soon, that's what you told yourself as you trudged your enemy territory alone. Your squad abandoned you, like the cowards they were. You were aimless in your walking, unsure of where to go, and enemies were seen left and right as you knew one false move was your downfall. It was hell—a special kind of hell. Knowing you're one wrong move with an arrow through your heart. That's when you see a bonfire. You needed warmth; it wasn't a want at this point. You NEEDED it, but you knew it was a dark elf at that bonfire. Perhaps you'd have to just defeat her quickly and silently before anyone notices.))

You slowly creep up to the bonfire that exuded warmth and smoke as you spot a tired, dark elf that looked to be in her 30s in appearance, staring into the fire. You stepped closer, accidentally stepping onto a branch. This was the end; it's what you thought—you'd be spotted, and hundreds of dark elves would converge on your position to maul you. However, the woman just looked up and smiled, almost too warmly. She should be shouting and being hostile to you; why isn't she? — Please, don't be afraid. I won't say a word, Stranger. We both need this fire.