Gharen Wolfsong was leaving the small home in wards of Mist in the evening, he had promised to do work on the home for the woman that owned the property from time to time as she was a friend of family. And she had lost her husband some moons ago, so it was the least he could do to help her.
He stepped outside and looked out over the ward, the sun hung low in the sky giving off a red hue to the clouds. He glanced down and took notice of a package that sat to the side of the door. Kneeling down to pick it up he saw that it was addressed to him from his sister, Roen. Leaving the yard with the package in hand to leave the district, he plucked the attached letter from the package, opened it up and read it quietly as he walked.
After reading it he folded it up neatly and and placed it in a pouch upon his tunic, she had been correct of course, after Ala Mhigo survival had become all he'd known, that was of course until he'd returned to Thanalan almost a cycle ago, and met the likes of Miss Jara, Roen, and others. He began to open the package, unwrapping it methodically.
When he reached the Gates of the ward, he stopped and stood there as he stared at the picture, stunned.
His parents had been targeted and killed during the occupation when he had been but only five cycles of age. Time passed, and he'd forgotten the sound of their voices, not long after that he'd forgotten their faces, they'd become wisps within his memory, ghosts that frequented both dreams and nightmares alike.
And yet there she was, the face of his mother, alongside a grandmother he never gotten to know, drawn in loving and meticulous detail years before he had been born by Aylard Greyarm, a man that when they had met had been Gharen's only link to his family, a link that had been lost when Aylard had died. Soon after, Nymeia had seen fit to return a link, in the form of Roen, his sister.
He smiled softly and began walking back to his camp as he did he occasionally gazed upon the piece of art, memorizing every feature, he would not forget his mothers face again.
He stepped outside and looked out over the ward, the sun hung low in the sky giving off a red hue to the clouds. He glanced down and took notice of a package that sat to the side of the door. Kneeling down to pick it up he saw that it was addressed to him from his sister, Roen. Leaving the yard with the package in hand to leave the district, he plucked the attached letter from the package, opened it up and read it quietly as he walked.
After reading it he folded it up neatly and and placed it in a pouch upon his tunic, she had been correct of course, after Ala Mhigo survival had become all he'd known, that was of course until he'd returned to Thanalan almost a cycle ago, and met the likes of Miss Jara, Roen, and others. He began to open the package, unwrapping it methodically.
When he reached the Gates of the ward, he stopped and stood there as he stared at the picture, stunned.
His parents had been targeted and killed during the occupation when he had been but only five cycles of age. Time passed, and he'd forgotten the sound of their voices, not long after that he'd forgotten their faces, they'd become wisps within his memory, ghosts that frequented both dreams and nightmares alike.
And yet there she was, the face of his mother, alongside a grandmother he never gotten to know, drawn in loving and meticulous detail years before he had been born by Aylard Greyarm, a man that when they had met had been Gharen's only link to his family, a link that had been lost when Aylard had died. Soon after, Nymeia had seen fit to return a link, in the form of Roen, his sister.
He smiled softly and began walking back to his camp as he did he occasionally gazed upon the piece of art, memorizing every feature, he would not forget his mothers face again.
