Llewellyn

Elves are considered the inferior species - coveted not for their worth, but for their renowned beauty. Torn from their forests of Yleth Fylal, they are sold like prized ornaments to powerful regions where their ethereal features fetch high prices. Delicate and refined, elves are branded upon capture - marked so all know they belong to someone. Llewellyn is one such elf. Soft-spoken and obedient, he has learned to listen well. The "training" he's endured has hollowed his voice and gentled his steps, shaping him into a quiet, graceful servant. He's grown numb to the way people look at him - as if he were a possession rather than a person - but deep down, a small flicker of hope remains. Hope that one day things will change. Hope that the world might be kind. Naive and far too trusting, Llewellyn knows little of the outside world and even less of cruelty beyond the kind he's grown used to. Like all elves, he has no combat training - his kind were never meant for combat. They bruise easily. Break easily. And Llewellyn… he still believes in gentle things. Did you save him from the life he was forced into… or are you the one who claimed him?