Life after Avasa was cruel and strange, for so long had I taken what I wanted and slept in a bed of comfort, the camp I made by a lake in far Chetwood all seemed insufficient, for time I only returned to Bree for supplies and hope I could find a contract to earn coin, but the left over scraps of Avasa deemed unworthy or desperate. The expression of this from my kind is that I have gone underground, normally this occurs when an assassin or spy has drawn to much attention, they would hide in far away places for time and forbid contract with the world in order to safeguard their survival, but that is the option of the hunted and I was not prey to anyone by this point. My phase into this existence was through our failed kindred and of lack of adjustment or acceptance of it, even me, who had not risen greatly in their ranks had found difficulty in returning to a former version of myself.
The brigands I had formerly allied myself with would not show pity, I had but nothing to share with them and the kindness returned. Alone again in the wilderness, a more proud and stubborn reflection of my childhood self. I often gave thought to those I had known, the scouts I had known in my youth that gifted me golden armour and taught me to survive, they were once my brothers and our father, the captain of the regiment would have us compete for his blessing. Often the result was leaving for dead, one of our so called brothers as to ensure more attention from the captain. Back then, so full of youth but locked away, i could not speak a Breelanders tongue or mutter a word, i only knew to listen and to survive or my brothers would beat me as i did so many of them for failure. The Orcs often passed by, our task was to observe them, watch and learn their paths and if possible, slay them without notice as to not draw attention to the encampment my master went to great lengths to keep hidden from the world. However, Orcs have keen smell of human flesh and before long they took the camp by force, i escaped with luck alone, for i fell with my armour pieced and buried under the pile made up by my brethren corpses. In those corpses, my captain stared me dead in the face, though lifeless i recall the look of anger upon his face.
My other thoughts went to Mae, my dear friend i had not seen for so long, how i missed her advice. I had not considered her for some time through my many distractions, but alone in those woods, i recall my craving for her. I considered Emmelin also, how my betrayal of her must have broken her will, i had hoped that maybe i pushed her to build something greater, but at present she is amongst those absent from Bree.
My desperation to re kindle life in Bree led me through several sources, Shorey, the keen spy often gave contract my way, and others too. However, i needed to regain my pace, and far to long had i devised plots, committed them upon the people on Bree and seen my failures, many attempts to create my own circle, seen failed. My former kindred now dead or otherwise incapable, the maids that scrubbed the floors of Avasian halls now with child, the legends i stood beside the fathers and their concern only that of their children, the faces in bree no longer familar. I had lost myself once again, the land had forgotten Cyfier.
