I was a successful elf once, not long ago actually. Perhaps not by the yardstick of any “traditional” elf but to hell with their yardstick. I had a faithful fiance, a nice little shop in the New Stetven, at the heart of commerce near the center of Brevoy (location, location, location!), and a beautiful lab where I spent most days creating fantastical elixirs and potions.
Then just last week I was working in the lab on a recent (and very large $$) order for adventuring gear when a deceptively quiet knock at the door brought an elven guard to the door. Before I knew what was happening I was in irons and being hauled off to face charges of treason against my former kin. Now I sit in this cell writing on toilet paper to keep my mind from going mad. I have been here nearly five days and told nothing of my crime. My captors only show their arms through the door to slap a shallow dish of moldy bread and “soup” that is nothing more than once-warm grease. All I have heard of my charges are that they are serious and I will be “dealt with” once the magistrate returns.
My fiance came to visit three days ago, shaken and scared. She cried that she had been forced to denounce me as a traitor to the elves and that she had found someone else-just two days after I had been arrested! She did not stay long, but before she left she slipped me a small package with my kit and some gold in it. Then without another word she turned and left, leaving me utterly confused. The next few days I sat here scribbling madly trying to formulate a potion from the supplies in my kit that would bring me to freedom.
Almost by accident I have discovered a recipe that may do just that, and it might just open a new world in alchemy! I can hear the guards coming, too many to be bringing my meal of bread and grease. The magistrate must have returned, the time is now. I shall escape and get to the bottom of what has happened! I may have been a quivering academic and bumbling shopkeeper before but now they shall face a beast!
