Private Of Gods and Legends

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N​

Every forest had a different sort of feel to them, Freya long ago realized, bent to the whims of whatever Gods kept them. These ones liked their woods old, dark, and primal.

While Bellassa’s forests were covered in carpets of emerald greens and verdant canopies that hung overhead, alive with the rushing of glistening rivers and animal life - Stewjon’s forests were thick with dense black oaks and steel pines, twisted branches wove together with tightly twisted boughs, and gnarled roots that wrestled beneath the soil. A deep silence filled these woods, brooding and solemn.

Freya knew she would find the wolf she was looking for here, following the instructions Alfhildr Ótta had left. She’d started her journey on foot to find the Lechner’s home, having left her ship behind over an hour ago.

Unused to the ways these lands bent and boughed, she found she’d had to focus on the grounds more often than not. Shifting in such limited space could be a problem, idly wondering how the wolves who’d lived here hunted in these forests.

Nearing the other Lupo’s home, the weather took a sudden, violent turn. Dark clouds swarmed the sky, a dense fog sweeping through.

Fitting, came the wry thought, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips as the eastern winds picked up the foreshadowed gale - rain thundering down through the dense canopy.

The drops were cold and hard, and made a shudder slip down her spine. These were not the soft, warm rains of her home world, the ones she enjoyed feeling across her skin - like the warm and gentle kisses from a lover. The droplets stung and encased her in ice.

That is fine. She thought. Dropping the pretense of spring, to replace it with the hard, ice-born wolf who had persevered on Islimore.

So it was, she did nothing more than grit her teeth and press on - lifting her pert nose to the wind. While the rain should have washed away the scent, the biting aroma that she’d caught onto earlier, persisted - growing stronger the closer she came. No doubt, this was the scent of Gerwald Lechner .

Lechner.

The first time she’d heard the name, it had struck some chord in her, though she’d never been able to place from where that came - exactly. Truly, it was testament to how far their species had fallen, how distant and separated they’d become.

While educated, as any wolf of a royal pack would be, many history lessons had been buried under years of desperate survival - where she could think of little else beyond the basic necessities to make it to her next day.

It wasn’t until a few months ago, when Borre had unearthed the ancient books of lineage to try and figure out where the Lupo she’d brought back from Islimore might have come from - that it finally clicked, crept from the shadows of her mind like a dark specter.

They were supposed to have been long dead, this pack. One of the few original bloodlines that stretched back to ancient times, often rivaling the extinct Clan, Svärd. Of course, these were just speculations. Only testing could truthfully tell if he was who his name claimed him to be.

Standing outside the corridors of the humble hut, she paused to consider the fools errand this could turn out to be. Freya moved in further over the threshold, carried by the scent that had completely enveloped her. Alfhildr had told her that decorum mattered little, and would be lost entirely on him, so she did not bother to wait for him to find her like she would have with other Alpha’s.

By the time she’d reached his doorstep, her traveling cloak had become soaked through and heavy from the heavy downpour, making her frame appear smaller than it actually was by comparison.

Tinges of pink colored her pale skin, the cold having long ago set in, with raindrops dripping from her lashes and rolling down her cheeks.

Even her buttery blonde hair, which she’d carefully curled and pulled half up, was drenched everywhere, spilling wildly over her shoulders and down her back. Freya knew how she must have looked. Knew that it would not have been acceptable in any other circumstance, and was banking on the hope he was indeed as ignorant as the young Ótta proclaimed.

Sapphire eyes fixed on the wooden door, she gave it a light rap. Once, then twice… and waited.

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

Peace was not something the wolf often enjoyed. Days had grown longer with each passing sunset since the Confederacy was driven from their space. Gerwald had remained behind to ensure the inhabitants of Stewjon were safe and well cared for. His loyalty had been to the Confederacy, to the Knights Obsidian. He was still their leader after all, and had it not been for the pull he felt to find them again, Gerwald may have allowed himself some feeling of reprieve. There was too much work to do, and the wolf could rest when he was dead.

Most of his attention had been taken by the political quagmire that Stewjon was with the vacancy of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Their way had reformed the caste system, and yet there had been those who wished to return to it. Certain regions had already bucked the equity which the Confederacy had brought with them and returned to the old superstitions which had caused Gerwald to hide who he was for so long in the first place. He needed to unite the people behind a single cause, a single way, even if it was no longer the Confederate way, it needed to provide freedom and opportunity for all.

Gerwald had needed a break from it all. His mind had not settled in some time, and the days spent away from his forest had ensured his nightmares still haunted him. As long as he carried the ring of his beloved Naedira he would continue to have them. She was long dead, and the wolf had to accept that. It did not change the fact he had made a promise to her. She would live again, and until then Gerwald had to learn how to move forward. The best way he knew how was to take his respite as a wolf. Only as the animal could he sleep without the nightmares. The beast did not care for the pains of the man's heart, or the whims of a tortured mind. Gerwald was only truly free when he hunted.

Life always begged him to return. His cabin, secluded in the woods and only known to him and one other, as a sanctuary he could never visit for long. Three days was the most he had been able to spare before the urgency of his demanding tasks pulled him away from the forest he loved so much. At least he could afford one more run. The feel of soft dirt and mossy grass between his paws made him feel alive. Even as he shifted back to the form which the people of Stewjon accepted, the sensation of the cool earth on his feet was exhilarating. A checkered flannel and a pair of pants had been stashed at the edge of the woods in case anyone happened upon his home. Most would not want to see his naked form walking out in the open.

The wolf inside the man growled as an unfamiliar scent wafted on the air. It was unmistakable, and new. This was a beast he had not met before, and she smelled of a world Gerwald did not know. Someone was intruding on his territory, but this was now his life. Everyone did. Stewjoni and alien all sought Gerwald Lechner at some point it seemed.

"He's not inside," the baritone voice echoed as the wolf came round the corner.

Blonde.

Memories of another blonde wolf danced about his mind. That one had abandoned him. Despite a familiarity to a distant thought, this wolf was clearly different. She hesitated, nervously waiting to be invited in. Whoever this was, they understood pack rules and operated under a pack mentality. She did not know what it was to be alone, not the way Gerwald did. At least that was how it appeared.

The massive beast of a man crossed his arms over his chest as his boots sank into the dirt. Eyes stared at her intently.

"What do you want?"
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N​

Perhaps it was the rain obscuring her sense of smell, but she hadn’t expected him to materialize behind her, hadn’t picked up his scent acutely, until he’d opened his mouth to speak.

Startled, Freya turned with a jolt to face an enormous man, his cut not too unlike her own brothers in their herculean proportions and shaggier styled hair. A warrior, a fighter, a force of nature.

Her crystalline gaze appraised him, stepping from the threshold of his home to give them a wide berth. His stance was one of defense and hostility, she’d offended him and her survival could depend on how the next few moments of this interaction played out.

Perhaps, had she been a lesser wolf, she would have cowered into the underbrush of fear, instead Freya squared off her shoulders in full regality, offering a gentle smile that curved along the rosebud of her lips - doe like gaze watching him with focused intent. I have been frightened by worse things than you, she seemed to silently convey.

“You must be Gerwald,” Freya murmured, tipping the proud curve of her chin before lifting it high again. “My name is Freya, of Pack Drage.”

She dared to take a step forward.

“I’ve heard of your many exploits through a common friend of ours. You may remember the young wolf? I sent her into the protection of the Confederacy and to train, Alfhildr Ótta .”

Another bold step.

“I’ve come because I wish to speak with you about the plight of our people, and present you with an offer. Of course… you can always send me away - I’d be very disappointed, after having come all this way and soiling my good clothes, but if you bid me to do so then I will respect your wishes and never come back. The choice is yours.”

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

She was bold, Gerwald would give her credit, but also assumed too much. He was not offended by her, but rather the memory she represented. There was need to explain it, nor was Gerwald in any hurry to. Even though the rain fell about them, and their clothes were getting soaked, the wolf stood still.

"I am," he answered.

It was short. Gerwald had grown tired of people wanting things from him, favors, advice, leadership, unrequited friendship. He knew his value, something he did not when he first joined the Confederacy and now that it was dissolved, he knew there were those that had never seen it. For the longest time he had been listed among them, and perhaps he still would be had it not been for the investment of those who had truly seen him. The wolf would have sent her away had it not been for the name she uttered.

"I'm listening."

Gerwald had helped the girl through her first change. It had been something someone else should have done. It had been awkward helping a female, but the wolf had seen her through. At least she did not go through it alone. The first change was frightening enough, alone, that would have been maddening. It was that connection which gave the blonde the right to ask one thing.

He looked to the house and nodded with his head.

"It's unlocked."

Gerwald started to move toward the door. If this woman did not enter first, the beast would walk past her and open it himself. A flick of his wrist started a fire. The wolf had always been close to the elemental skills of the force. He imagined their kind were. Despite his rough exterior, Gerwald was not an inhospitable host. He starts a kettle for tea, and when the water was hot, he offered it to his guest.

"You seem to know about me, but I am at a loss. I know little about our kind as my mother kept it hidden from me. What little I do know came from books I found along the possessions of Katrine Van-Derveld. She wanted things from me too. She once made me an offer. I was going to be her king."

Gerwald looked down at his own mug of tea.

"The door is there if your offer is selfish. I am my own wolf and no one else's. If… however, you are not here for what you could gain from me without something to offer in return… we can talk."

Perhaps she would sense there was more to the story than what Gerwald let on. He was cautious with strangers, and the longer he lived, the more everyone seemed like a stranger.
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N​

When the offer to come into his home - his territory, came reluctant, but accepting, she released a heavy breath that she did not realize she’d been holding. They were strangers to one another, with a single connection, it was the best possible outcome she could hope for.

Freya waited for him, watching as he walked to the front door and went in before following behind him at a steady pace.

Readying to step over the threshold, she paused to look down at her boots and the hem of her cloak. Both were caked in mud from her waterlogged trek through the woods, and she briefly debated on whether or not she should remove her boots. Walking barefoot through his house seemed rude, but tracking in mud seemed worse.

Without ceremony, she unclasped the silver hook of her cloak and left it hanging by the door, then bent to remove her boots. She looked around briefly, left not in the dainty kind of dresses she would have worn to any other Alpha’s home, but swathed in her best fighting leathers.

The home was not particularly large and had an old-world feel to it, rustic, but cozy. Although somehow it seemed colder inside, making her all the more thankful for the fire that roared to life in his open hearth, taking a seat with one slender leg draped over the other near the warm flame and savoring the steaming cup of tea as he placed it in her hands. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking a small, burning sip, that warmed her to the core. Slowly, she started to relax.

"You seem to know about me, but I am at a loss. I know little about our kind as my mother kept it hidden from me. What little I do know came from books I found along the possessions of Katrine Van-Derveld. She wanted things from me too. She once made me an offer. I was going to be her king. The door is there if your offer is selfish. I am my own wolf and no one else's. If… however, you are not here for what you could gain from me without something to offer in return… we can talk."

Her brows furrowed as she listened, her smile slowly melting to become muted, and sorrowful. Freya knew some of the Van-Dervelds, her own brother having become entangled with their lupine cousins to try and better harness the power they themselves possessed - the power that most others in the galaxy referred to as ‘The Force.’ From what little she knew of Gerwald, if her suspicions proved true, then the Van-Dervelds would not have had the information to teach him what he truly was. He was astray, like so many of their kind were.

“I’m not here to offer anything as grand as a Kingship,” Freya said, lowering her mug slowly into her lap, “I came to offer the hand of friendship, if you so want it. If you come with me, my Pack can educate you on our kind's histories, and your god-given birth rights. We want to see our species thrive and grow strong again, before we cease to exist and our ways of life are lost. There are many out there who are not too unlike yourself, Gerwald. They suffer, and it is the unfortunate reality we all face.” she paused, thinking of her next words. “My hope would be that when you are ready, if you so choose, that you’d be willing to help me with this task.” Freya thought about bringing up the history of his name, but refrained. She would not speak until she confirmed it through a sample of his blood and compared it to what they had in their database. If he would come with her, if he would agree.

There were a whole lot of ‘ifs’. She sighed.

“Please do not misconstrue this as a ‘strings attached’ situation. If you want to learn and leave, that is your right and no one would get in your way. It is an honor to serve our kind. All we want is to see them become more whole.”

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

“Good because I would likely not take it,” his retort remained short.

Gerwald had never seen himself as a ruler. The wolf was a warrior, always a warrior. It was a stretch to see himself as Lord Commander, but the Lupo had found a way to make it work. He was more a natural fit than he first would have thought. It did not mean the job was easy. Gerwald hated the difficult decisions which often came with it. More often than not he would put himself in harm’s way if it meant others could live. His duty was not to live, but to ensure that others had the chance.

His wintry gaze did not leave the hot liquid in his cup. Unlike Freya the wolf had not sipped it yet. He blew on it before finally lifting it to his lips. Each word passed though his thoughts carefully. What she offered was… ideal, but Gerwald knew that what was idea very rarely translated to reality. It sounded like a sales pitch. She truly believed in everything she was saying… their people, their culture. It was tempting… a little too tempting.

His gaze met hers at one phrase…

“God given birthrights…”

He lifted a large hand to indicate the woman needed to stop.

“Let’s make one thing certain… I have no birthright. I am the son of a farmer who barely had enough clout to insist that my brother and I be allowed to join the warrior caste. I trained hard to fight for my people, and when the Confederacy came I learned what I truly was. Even then I still worked hard to achieve what I have. Lord Commander Gerwald Lechner was not something I was born into. It was something I fought to earn.”

Gerwald sighed.

“I’m sorry. You have to understand my whole life until the Confederacy was people telling me who I was. Even when I first joined people were telling me what to be. I had to decide for myself who I am, and that was not easy. I am by no means upset with you.”

The beast stood to his feet and moved to the window. Icy eyes got looking out on the horizon for a moment. He turned and pointed back in the direction of the village.

“And what of them. Duty is a strange thing. It pulls me my home, to the Confederacy, and now you’re here. Is this a thing of duty to? Duty to my species, or for once is this a duty I owe myself?”

His eyes searched hers for an answer.

“Tell me missionary? What do you think?”
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N
​

Her crystaline eyes flickered to Gerwald. There was neither malice nor anger in her soft gaze, only empathy for him.

“I understand that what I’m saying may sound like I’m trying to tell you who you are, but I’m not. Only you can decide that, all I’m doing is offering you the ability to know more. Well informed decisions, and all that. If you decided that who you are now, is all that you want to be… I won’t begrudge you that. I know what it’s like to not know who you are, and what it is to finally find yourself.”

Freya lowered her thick lashes before looking out the window, a stroke of lightning flashing across the sky. The memories of what she’d had to endure to survive on Islimore still plagued most of her dreams at night. That there were more of their kind still stranded there, hunted and murdered by fanatical cultists for daring to be alive… nothing was more grieving than that. There were no words to convey what it was like to witness the deaths of friends and allies, due to nothing more than hateful prejudice.

For a moment, Freya was overcome with emotion, feeling her eyes mist, though she was quick to brush them aside before he could notice.

“As for duty,” she echoed, lifting her eyes to meet his as a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “I believe if someone has the ability to do good, that we have a moral obligation to do the right thing, whether that be to ourselves or others, regardless of the good or bad consequences that might come from it. But, that is a matter of view. What do you view as good, Gerwald?”

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

Gerwald waved her off. He had already made the mistake of jumping to the wrong conclusions. It was clear enough that the wolf carried a certain amount of baggage when it came to his own kind. He chuckled as he moved back to the chair.

“I apologize. I did not mean to imply you were telling who to be. You just have to understand that I have had better experiences associating with humans above my own kind, even my own family. Knowledge is enticing certainly, but being surrounded by other Lupines…”

Gerwald sighed and sipped his tea once more. He was silent. Freya had posed him a quest he had not pondered before, not truly. The wolf chased after duty because he understood it, but he had never asked himself why. Was it because he wanted to do what was right? The corner of his mouth turned up to a smirk when he looked at the she-wolf.

“Good… what do I think is good? I have been living my entire adult life watching a galaxy at war where each side of every conflict deems themselves as good or right? It’s a flawed question from the start.”

Was he stalling. Of course he was. Gerwald had asked a question he had wanted the woman to answer only to see it turned right back onto him. She was clever, tricky even, but the wolf refused to allow her the satisfaction of besting him, if that was what this even was. He put more thought into the question itself. Asking himself what he thought was good, or what he viewed as good.

“Order.”

Gerwald looked back toward the woods he had just returned from.

“The rain falls… it waters the ground… the grass grows… a stag eats it, and I eat it. I have been a force of bringing order to chaos, sometimes through chaotic methods themselves. I have seen atrocious things, experienced things you could never even begin to imagine, fighting for a love, to keep a promise I have not been able to fulfill yet. Some would call that good… others have called me selfish… which is bad.”

Gerwald looked back to the woman.

“So tell me… is my duty here… is it with you… I cannot do good here if I am not here. Yet, I cannot help you if I do not leave with you.”

He stood back up to his feet.

“Humor me with a run?”

His eyes looked wild with anticipation of her answer.
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N

​

Freya had to admit, she was enjoying the verbal parlaying a little more than she should have been. In trying to lead him to drawing his own conclusions, Gerwald went on the back foot and tried to stall as he came up with an answer, not too unlike the verbal volleys she often engaged in with her own brothers.

Reaching up, she tucked a mostly-dry ringlet behind her ear and smiled.

“If you want direction,” she began, determination hardening the soft lilt of her voice “then come with me. Your experiences with Lupine may have been fraught, but… they are not your kind Gerwald. We are kin. I know you can smell it, the difference. Lupo scent is unlike that of our Lupine cousins.” It was direct, but he seemed to be looking for that. For a moment, her thick lashes lowered and she was quiet, gathering her thoughts together.

“My Pack settled on Bellassa after the Fayth started purging us from our homeworld, Islimore. We’ve lived in peace there for generations now, but, it is not our true home. Islimore is the birthplace of our ancestors, where our culture thrived before it was taken from us by humans. And there are still Lupo living in hiding there, dying every day. I’ve witnessed the fear they live in, day in and day out. Women and children have become commodities, families never settle. It is hell. And those who are not on Islimore have scattered to the four winds of the Galaxy, many of them without packs, alone, and abandoned. But if our numbers come together, we might be able to do something - to make things better and change the tides. It just requires someone saying ‘enough’. So you tell me, is there any duty greater than this?”

It was matter of fact and to the point. As a future matriarch, it was clear this was her declaration. Freya was willing to do anything for them, the Lupo people, even die, if it came down to it.

There was more to be said, but Gerwald was on his feet, an energy she recognized bouncing in his eyes. The Pack mentality was strong for all of them, the need to run with your own kind, an instinct only they could ever understand.

“A run?” she repeated, feeling a jolt surge through her at the prospect, as she placed down her cup and stood to her feet, “I suppose that I could stand to work off some energy.”

Without ceremony, pale fingers began working to unclasp the fastenings of her leathers, letting the shirt slide from her shoulders first, followed by the rest of her clothing. Nudity was considered unremarkable, and it was common practice for Packs to strip and shift together before a drill or hunt. Of course, there was always that bit of trepidation when allowing such vulnerability with one outside your own Pack. But Freya wanted his trust, wanted to remind him what it was to be with your own.

For a moment, a swath of delicate milk-white skin was exposed long enough to glimpse the sizable bite scar on her right side and the few pale slashes that trailed up the back of her calves, then the woman was gone and in her place a svelte white wolf with brushes of gold intermixed throughout her luxurious coat.

Where the woman might have waited for her male counterpart to finish his change, the wolf could not. In a white flash, she was off - running through the open door.

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

Gerwald listened to every word the woman shared with him. What he could not get over was the word Lupo. He had seen it a couple of times in the tomes recovered from Katrine Van-Derveld, but he had never made the connection. Now, with Freya a few feet in front him, the scent of her could not lie. He knew it was the truth. Yet, Gerwald seemed unmoved.

She talked of the plight of people he did not know. Did he feel for them? Certainly! The story was too familiar. It was the same tale told on hundreds of planets spanning across the entire galaxy. What only made it worse was it that it seemed religious in nature. The Fayth, a death cult perhaps, or a group that treated Lupo the way his sister had been treated some time ago.

Freya would see. She would see on their run.

His eyes lifted in time to see as she removed her clothing. It was intentional, as if she were making a statement. She wanted him to trust her, to see the scars perhaps. Gerwald took them in. Her story was not just a story for her. It was personal.

So was his.

Her wolf rushed out the door, not willing to wait for him. The chase was on it seemed. Gerwald howled as he rid himself of his own clothes and flew out the door. In a matter of seconds his gray fur streaked past the snowy white beast as he took the lead. As an alpha he felt the urge to prove he was faster and stronger. This wolf was new, she was strange, and yet familiar. It was exhilarating to feel the excitement which came from running with another of his kind.

He led them toward the village, around it. Gerwald wanted her to see their plight, the instability the loss of the Confederacy left behind. They were fighting with each other, some returning to the old ways where caste determined status and wealth. Those who had been elevated, and tasted something new, different from the poverty they knew before, dared to challenge them. This was the chaos Gerwald sought to bring to order.

They did not stop there. His wolf ran until they reached the mouth of a cave. It was dark, and sickening energy came from within. He whimpered a bit as they drew near, but forced himself ahead. Gerwald changed as he stepped past the threshold, hoping that Freya caught on to what he was doing. A torch was pulled from its sconce as it was lit by the Force. If Freya did not stay close she would lose sight of Gerwald soon.

Cave paintings littered the walls. It told a story of chaos, death. Creatures, dark shadows, slaughtering Stewjoni people carried on until they were deep inside the cave. They stopped at a shrine, a memorial for the lives lost to the dark ones.

“Thousands of years… until the Confederacy came. Without them we would still be fighting today. Now it seems they have forgotten so easily. They would turn on each other for status. I can help them. I am helping them. Is it right to leave them to their own ways? Is it right to ignore what my kind needs from me?”

Gerwald turned and looked at her.

“Tell me missionary, what do you think?”
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N

​

A joyful bark erupted from her throat, taking off after her male counterpart and catching up so swiftly that, in a matter of seconds her nose brushed the tip of his gray tail. She nipped at it playfully, taking up stride beside him. Freya’s eyes closed for a second, feeling the rain-coated wind slice across her muzzle as her paws thumped against the muddied earth. With each stretch of her powerful legs came a burst of physical bliss, bolts of near narcotic adrenaline bursting through her as they raced across this ancient terrain.

Little animals scurried out of her way, an owl somewhere in the forest softly hooting, having finished its hunting and now resting content. Her heart pounded, forcing herself to stay focused on the path ahead. There would be time for hunting, later.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark and twisting power licked out to bite her. Her ears flatten against her head, bristling and pulling back her lips in a soft growl, the echo of a thousand voices crying out from this ancient place looming ahead, waiting. She’d felt energy like this before.

Gateways of Aerðs.

Gerwald trudged ahead with a whine. The golden wolf faltered, then followed on, taking her time to change back into her human form as they delved deeper into the cave, head tilted in observation.

In her own way, Freya understood his plight, having witnessed that same endlessly looping cycle on Islimore during her time there. Her crystalline eyes seemed to soften, a sadness gripping her heart.

“My Grandmother was born on Islimore,” she explained, coming up to gently touch her hand against the crude paintings as she walked through. “She fled with my father before the Fayth assassins could find them, and the humans they’d lived peacefully beside for centuries… well, many of them turned the second they thought it might benefit them in some way. She saw her brothers and sisters chained, beaten, and betrayed… all because humanity wanted more power. More land. Our land.” This is the nature of humankind, she thought, but didn't allow the words to pass her lips.

Stopping in front of the altar, she turned to look at Gerwald. “You can’t fight a war on two fronts, but if there is one thing I know… humankind always finds a way to right themselves. I can’t make this decision for you, however, and it seems like your heart is set in this place.”

Gerwald Lechner
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

LOCATION: Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
ALLIES: Freya Drage

“And why shouldn’t it be. With the Confederacy gone this is the only other home I have ever known.”

His reply was quick. Did she not seem to understand what he was trying to tell her? The thing she was asking him to trade for the knowledge of his people, of his ancestry and legacy, was his home. Could he return, certainly? Did he want to leave them now? He was not sure.

“Your experience with humans… I do not share it. I am sorry they did terrible things to our people. You should see life here, how ours and theirs co-exist. If you humor me I will come and find you when the time is right.”

He pointed toward the exit. They would have to return to the cabin and find their clothes, once the rain let up, but Gerwald wanted Freya to see a world that was different than what she had experienced. History taught that the oppressed one day became the oppressor. Gerwald did not want to see that happen with his people.

“Let me show you my home first.”
​

 

[Freya Drage]

S T E W J O N​

His answer was so quick that for a moment, she wondered if she’d offended him, struck some nerve. “Mmmm.” she hummed thoughtfully in response, nodding. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. It’s not easy for most to up and leave behind everything that they’ve ever known, and I wouldn’t ask if the situation wasn’t dire.” But that was the gist of it. Beyond the crisis on Islimore, there still remained those who were scattered to the winds. Even recently, she’d met Lupo who’d been hunted for their pelts, others that had been sold into slavery, and those who were so wholly ignorant of what they were that they’d turned feral - but how could someone understand a plight, when they’d never borne witness to it?

Freya’s eyes turned in the dim lighting, away from the altar that she’d been affixed on, to rest on Gerwald.

Terrible things… it seemed too mild a statement for the truth of what she’d experienced first hand. A meaningful silence fell in the space between them, considering the rest of his words. “I’m open to seeing whatever it is you’d like to show me,” Freya answered, her pert brow raised at him. Her family had long learned how to co-exist with humankind, albeit, always from a comfortable distance. But what she felt was more personal, and the history of humanity's sins against their kind only served to exacerbate those prejudices. “I’d be happy to see your home.”

Gerwald Lechner
​