People often ask me what my name is.
Dramaj Estoren, I dutifully reply.
The next question is always about what it means.
Red Iris, is the answer.
They begin to ask if Im referring to the iris on my shirt.
But then, they see
Chapter One: Shades of Discrimination
What am I doing here? The cloaked figure berated himself. Walking through the streets of Aneas, capitol of Nytreeia, he was conspicuous, to be sure, as anyone in a black cloak would be in a city in the middle of all the Land.
Most of Aneas inhabitants wore sleeveless shirts, and either shorts or pants made with thin fabric. It was needless to say that Dramaj Estoren got many strange and worried looks from various tattooed elven faces.
But he hardly noticed that. His mind was on other things, even if not as important. Things such as his reason for being in this city in the first place.
His purpose, the most important he could possibly think to exist.
Of course, he kne