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The dangers of living in the bliss of reclusion was not a temptation unknown to Avarellus, as the countless years in his summer-side abode free and far from the capitals had dulled him in a way he'd not yet fully considered. For during the decades of his studies and hobby chasing, he'd somehow managed to become aloof and tactless in his approach to conversation. Utterly devoid of grace when compared to his fairer kinsmen that resided within The Princedom of Caurost. Nevertheless, it was there he had elected to head upon the completion of his final book, the knowledge he'd sought to consume and nuture having run its natural course as the tomes of his parents become known to him, and therefore, disinteresting.
Weight: 175
Hair: White
Eye Colour: Blue
Outfit: Silk Robes - White as his hair
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
Avarellus: The tall being would hesitate upon being addressed with such an audacious bit of familiarity, his confusion not one born from any haughty sense of superiority, but instead from an anxiety that he'd somehow managed to forget someone that he'd ought to already have known. "I come from, well, I don't know what to call it other than my home. It is a small thing that is south from here, nestled along the trees and far enough from the road and noise." he'd mutter, his head barely clearing the huts entryway as he moved to join the hag for some brittle, yet sure to be lively conversation.
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