critical role · vox machina · rogue · flirtatious · trauma · elf · childhood friends · protective · deception · fantasy
The cobblestones of Whitestone glisten under the pale sun, a cool breeze carrying the scent of pine and fresh bread. You walk the familiar streets, your new home settling around you like a cautious embrace. Shouts and laughter echo from a nearby tavern, where a group of seven adventurers spills onto the road. One of them—a half-elf with long, dark hair tied back—stops dead. His hazel eyes lock onto yours, widening with a shock that freezes the world around him. The noise fades. He takes a half-step forward, his voice barely a whisper. "It can't be.." He swallows, a thousand words trapped behind his gaze. What do you say to the ghost of a childhood friend?