So We Met In A Tavern.

From many, to one.

Months before:
A human male crouches, cleaning the floor to Miz'ra Daliths throne room.

Miz'ri Dalith sat on her throne in her inner sanctum of her house. Several slaves cowered and cleaned as drow moved to and fro in her chamber.

She had just finished speaking to several of her top captains and discussing the mess Drayana had pushed them into. Regardless of her daughters failures, she had no intention on letting the surface dwellers come into her home, and kill her people and more importantly, push her around.

Sounds of wailing and deep gasping of air were no strangers to these halls. The sheer number of slaves alone that were tortured and killed in this very room stained the floors with blood.

"BRING ME MY DAUGHTER! BRING ME DRAYANA NOW!!!!"

Moments later a Drow woman clad in leather armor and long flowing white hair appears and stands before her mother.

"Explain!" She points her septer at her daughter.

A look of contempt. "Far be it to explain my command.." she began but was cut off.

"YOU WILL EXPLAIN AS I SEE FIT!" She screams.

"I'm handling it!" She retorts.

"Oh? And what is it that you are doing about it?"

Her daughter Drayana looks up at her.

"I'll find her... and kill her mother. And I now I have her name!"

Sitting back in her throne. "Well?"

"Blackwood! From Aravae! The witch and the Wolf Tavern"

They continue to talk, but one slave in particular knows the name, and the place, and the town. His mind reels, and true panick sets in, then his face reflects horror. *no not Len!"

He feels a hand tighten around his throat. "I've seen this look many times!" Drayana says.

"You know this name!" She grins

Shaking his head...."n-n-n-no!"

She slaps him. "Lies! We will see about that!"

She drags him down a corridor...

"Well start with something simple....whats your name slave?"

He knew he couldn't betray his love he'd die before he said anything useful, but at least this first question couldn't hurt.

"O- Osferth" He said.

"Well Osferth, I've got just the thing for you!" And drags him down a dark corridor.

Days later a odd man makes his way towards Aravae. He was nude but for a loin cloth that covered him, and he happened upon a wizard by the name of Ketleil Wraithbender in his path.

She looked him over, her eyes scanning his personage. He was patched together like some sort of monster. He had a tiefling arm, a human head, but one elven ear. His eyes were different. Not only in color, but the windows to many souls. His legs were different, one belonging to perhaps a lizardfolk she assumed by the scales, the other, a hairy tabaxi perhaps a Leonin. The other arm, an orc with a Dwarven hand. She thought of the irony in that last observation, then spoke.

"What is your name, traveler?

He stopped and looked at her. Thinking long and hard, he felt confused. Golzarbul... not quite right..Osrul? dugferth? No... he shook his head.

"I do not know..." his gravely voice says, hurting as he speaks.

"Well enough! In time, perhaps you can know it once again. But if you'd like my advice. You'll find a new name."

She motions to him casting a spell that he is unsure of, but for some reason, he knows it is a spell.

"Come, I know just the Tiefling you need to meet!" She smiles.

"Let's find you some clothes first."

He felt caught, like a freak being discovered for the first time. He looked around and then finally spoke.

"I can't think of a better thing to do."

He thinks a moment. "For some reason I have to get to the Witch and the wolf in Aarave."

"The tavern?" Ketleil inquired "It's not far....why"

"I'm not sure, I just know I must get there."

Much later:

"I was locked up in chest." He told Lenore, ensuring his clothing covered any skin but his eyes. He wore leather and a long coat, gloves, a wide brimmed hat, and a scarf pulled up to cover his ears and face.

"It was dark, felt like I was being pulled across uneven ground... there were rocks shooting out from under the wheels of a hand cart I was on. I heard voices...a females cursing at others, telling them they were useless and to move faster. Not common language... but something else, like an elven dialect. Eventually, the cart stopped. She said good luck to me... then laughed."

"They left me there. I lay there for days in the chains I was bound in, unable to move. The first day the sun rose told me I was outside for a sliver of light shone in. I counted the mornings. On day 5, I wished to die....on day 12, I prayed for it. On day 27, I wondered how was I alive....no food, and the only water I received was the occasional rain that seeped thru the wooden planks that touched my face."

"Bouts of madness strained my body against the manicles around my ankles and wrists. And by day 43, I had convinced myself I was dead and that I was a ghost..... and that's when it happened."

"What... Happened after that?" The gentle voice from Lenore asked?

He'd thought he knew the name....no ...not Lenore.... Len, maybe?

Despite the familiarity, he shook away the thought. "Were you in a cave?" She asked.

"I'm not sure... but it is possible. The chest I was in was dark, and I was dropped off at night. You know how silent a box is? So silent you can hear your heartbeat?" He asks rhetorically.

"Except I couldn't hear mine... that's how I convinced myself."

He scoots his chair back and stands up.

"I was convinced I was a ghost..." his form turns to ghostly visage. His ethereal being floats thru the table, then out. His corporeal being reforms.

"I got up and walked here." He said looking to the winged teifling sitting next to him. The same man that named him Apparition. Arlius was his name, and he had helped him make sence of continuing on with life, and soon plans to introduce him to woman who helps people like him.

He looks at the bracelet on Lenores wrist and wonders why little things are an echo in his mind, but he can't recall who the woman is that wears his bracelet.