How many times, Arysh wondered, had the people of Freeport passed by the stones unaware. She knelt to the ground and dropped the flowers she carried as gentle tears trickled down her smooth cheeks, not ashamed in the least bit. This was after all, where her mother was buried. She sniffed back a sigh and tried to wipe the tears as best she could to no avail. Every day the people of Freeport walked by the statues and monuments with no idea what they represented, or who. They never gave anything a second glance. Too busy on their way to some store, or to shop for poisons and other personal items. It was the way Freeport worked, and most argued that this method was just fine. Arysh, however, thought differently. Even before she considered moving to Qeynos she thought differently. It wasn’t that the druid was soft, by any means. The dark elf was fiercely protective of those closer to her and even those she was not.

She sat herself down in the dirt, and spread the flowers along the base of the monument. She knew that it had probably been erected for some other reason besides the personal one that it held to her. After all Lucan D’Lere was not exactly a rising hero empathetic to the needs and concerns of his people, not enough to want to place a solo statue in his city at least. The reasons didn’t matter though. The fact that it was there was enough for Arysh.

The druid found herself day dreaming of her life over the past few years, since she found herself without family. She had moved to Qeynos, lost a few loved ones along the way, betrayed not only Tunare but also the Burning Prince in trying to find herself. And what had it gotten her? Nothing. She was just as alone as she was at the starting of the journey. Her own fault though as over time she had pushed everyone away from her.

Left with nothing but the memories of those she once cared for, she slowly stood and braced herself to face another day.