Throughout history, patrons of nature deities upheld an image of peaceful mediators. Elves were by far the best when it came to it, for their home housed the tallest and oldest tree in the world. Dryadas, mother nature, was a given to believe in and pray to. From the moment he was born, much was already expected of Savoi- First progeny to his mother Elowenia, whom was none other than the champion of Dryadas herself.

Growing up in a settlement of farmers and monks, as one expected, was incredibly peaceful. Acres expanded as far as the eye could see, monasteries kissed the stars at night, folks were one and the same with nature. A small but close-knit community, highly regarded by surrounding ones for their generosity. Twice a year, Savoi would accompany his parents on their trek throughout the elven country, spreading the goodwill of Dryadas and aiding the ones in need. He was about the age of 10, when he was strong enough to carry a full basket of home-grown fruits all by himself.

By the age of 15, Savoi ran and splashed between the crops- Following right after his parents to plant new fruitful beginnings in each and every plot. Within temples, the smell of incense too strong as the son supplied a tad too much. Each day provided new opportunities to help the ones in need, and Savoi learned from the best two influences to pass it on.

In his 20s, Savoi was a staple part of the community, having become a worthy successor to Dryadas' champion. The town grown, bathing in prosperity, it'd become a hub for traders and pilgrims alike- Fields scattered with blooming vegetation. Churches with architecture so detailed, one could easily lose themselves in it. Annual festivals to celebrate their deities, cloaked the town in a myriad of colours. Savoi was about to start a family himself, as he and his betrothed were expecting.

Of course, sunshine and roses wouldn't stay forever.

— ROTTEN ROOTS —

Disaster started with a flood.

Overflowing the settlement, its inhabitants stood in water to the knees, watching as prosperity washed away- Crops ripped from the roots, cattle drowned in the waves, ruins torn apart by the crashing. Recultivating, repopulating and repairing would easily take years. 

Knocked off balance, this community of pacifists was ripe for the picking- The peace soon disturbed by scavengers, bandits, raiders. At first it was missing storages and tools, then what was left of their critters. Savoi and many others tried talking, pleading, making a deal, establishing some kind of fair trade- Dryadas' young champion tried to sway their ways to no avail. The more was taken, the more contempt grew- Inevitably it led to it all boiling over.

Calling out for aid, surrounding towns put their forces together to form an offense. It felt almost unnatural, alien, for these peaceful farmers and monks to pick up their antithesis. Scaring away roamers, thieves and wildlife had been their baseline until then. Savoi was amongst the ones sworn to protect their home, all too eager to 'stop sitting around and do nothing' in his words. It started a fire within that would burn its course.

Dryadas' champion followed suit right after his parents, the three of them returning disaster towards its cause. His mother on his left, a phenomenal druid, transformed into a behemoth of a beast, charging into the fray. His father on his right, an outstanding archer, drew a clutch of arrows breathlessly, releasing it with a focus unmatched. Casualties were already apparent- Enemies dropped like flies, a fair exchange for the innocents that had fallen- Payback for his friends lost- Revenge for a lover mourned.

At its peak, it was as if a nature itself was on their side. Mud refusing to let go of any impressions left, marking the other side as clear targets. The wind directing right into the enemy lines, arrows sleek to follow through. Sinkholes forming in the fields, swallowing all that couldn't escape. Shed lives shot down and slain, left to merge with the earth they'd rummaged.

It was almost going too well.

For a moment, his home had transformed into an uncanny valley.

Red shot up to his right.

Then the same, similar red, gushed to his left.

He had but a few moments to meet it in the middle, refusing to let it all be in vain. His blood boiled with pure, unbridled rage, surging through his veins as if begging to be let out. Savoi, champion of mother nature, became one with all around him, bringing havoc from its roots to meet the heavens.

Cracking the earth, cutting the forests and slicing the skies, one would argue, were actions closer to destroying nature rather than embracing it. Yet Savoi, swift as the wind, shot through the brambles that split the grounds- Leaves wildly following in his trail, as if bringing a hurricane- Thorns gnarly tearing through enemies, the reds becoming one with the dirt below- His magic, blessed by Dryadas in a moment at its direst, a plethora of petals and colours and sensations, stronger than ever.

Within the eye of the storm, it was eerily quiet.

Outside raged on at its loudest, as of shielded from the disaster within. In the centre the champion stood, with intents that could shatter the world itself. There was no time to rest. There was no time to grieve. There was no time, not even infinite, that would be enough to heal what was lost. In the aftermath, the survivors were spared the details, despite the remains that lay about. Their home was safe once more, although it'd come at a great cost.

The champion of Dryadas had given up on his pacifist beliefs, and by that extension, his status.

Savoi became one with the mist, disappearing face off the earth.

— A KNAVELY ENCOUNTER —

Word of Dryadas' champion became myth, the last one the deity had ever picked. Living an existence as hearsay, allowed Savoi to remain under the radar. His past left a turmoil that couldn't be tamed, thus the former champion had to release his wrath where possible- Odd jobs, underground dealings, eventually quests at guilds. Looking far too different from his old self, no one spared this mercenary a single look- For the better perhaps, for his soul had soured a far way from what it once was.

So he lived solitary, door to door, quest to quest, opportunity to opportunity. Savoi had little interest in forming bonds once more- It could all be ripped away as if it were nothing. The bare minimum of contact he did have, usually occurred on shared gigs. A group he seemed to run with more than once, however, was a trio of knights- Consisting of their leader, Trine, whose armour was as gold as a blooming dandelion- A winged knight, Raptor, who was perhaps one of those fabled Gryphites- And a mix of mage and knight, Syrinq, who utilised magic and blade both in fighting and smithing.

The former champion nearly rolled his eyes and denied, upon the invitation to join them permanently. There was no denying they'd ran together at least a dozen times by then, getting great results each time- Little did he know about them personally, in turn they knew barely anything about him- Seemingly no pressure to become the bestest of comrades for life, Savoi did acknowledge the practical benefits. Eventually his hand shook Trine's in agreement, loose ends aside.

From then on, Savoi had become part of a community once more, even if this one was limited to just the four of them. A nature-themed armour set smithed by Syrinq on his request, Savoi vastly preferred it to his own makeshift one. It befit him down to its roots, despite no longer blessed by Dryadas. Perhaps this was a chance for Savoi to bloom with nature once again.

In his years of avoiding the living world, it became soon apparent that Savoi had become quite difficult to socialise with. Disagreements became more apparent in the knight squad's base, usually between the nature knave and one other- Their leader, sometimes not having enough skill to pull it apart and return the peace- Laughable, as once Savoi himself was the mediator, instead he'd become what he loathed- Yet that was a thought he spared no one but himself, in the quiet hours when solitary existence turned into loneliness.

It also became apparent, that Savoi was rather rigid in his methods and beliefs. Refusing to back down, never giving the enemy a single opportunity to speak, figuratively and literally. Wherever this knight went, conflict was bound to happen- An unspoken agreement, he was a force of nature to be reckoned, fit for the direst of situations- Occasionally this resulted in just his three comrades fulfilling the quest, Savoi left to his own devices- In his frustration, pacing around turned to productivity, as if Savoi was the de facto grime cleaner of their base.

By the time Parcival and his trike joined their group, Savoi still hadn't shared a smidge of his life before, nor did he plan to. This newcomer in particular, brought with him an uncomfortable silence that was deafening- Unfortunately one Savoi couldn't leave ignored, filling it with inconsequential thoughts. To his surprise, Parcival wasn't mute, merely selective in his words, often thoughtful with whatever he said. Eventually their dynamic was somewhat resemblant of a friendship- Parcival more the listener, yet occasional advisor- Savoi the unending complainer and yapper, though his topics somehow resonated with the former- Yet both were incredibly blunt, never beating around the bush.

So, it felt like a right gut punch, when Parcival once told him word for word, why Savoi was still the odd one out some years later- After all, Parcival, despite his distant demeanour, had found his place in the group, whereas Savoi still felt he was walking a thin thread. In his friend's words, he was rather impulsive and rash, instead of thoughtful and kind- Facing head first into battle, without mercy in mind- Striking conflict against the honourable code his comrades lived by- The antithesis of what he once was.

Savoi wasn't a good fit to stay. Other knaves had joined by then as well, forming bonds to render the group even further close-knit- The only friendship that Savoi sparked was still with Parcival, whom he even looked up to at that point- And probably was the only reason he was still running with the group- Interactions with others could go either left or right.

A hard reality to accept, but reality nonetheless.

Though before he could fully make up his mind, disaster struck once more.

— END OF DAWN —

Being in the middle again, felt rather odd to Savoi. To his left were his allies, the knights he'd run with for some time. To his right were strangers he hadn't ever heard of, apparently sharing a history with Raptor. At first he couldn't blame them- For they all found themselves on strange soil, unbeknownst to them marking the End Of Dawn.

The bickering and arguing extended, once more strangers and aquaintances alike joined- The situation barely held together, his comrade Syrinq grew sick of it and forced everyone to work together- Trine put right in the fire as well, finally being challenged as a leader to his upmost limits- Savoi witnessed all of this, eventually realising this is what it must've been like to deal with, well, him.

Parcival's words rung true after all.

The knight saw sides of others never seen before- His friend, quiet and stoic, now practically biting his nails all day. Bartholomew, the rookie rogue, finally taken more seriously. Trine, the nervous wreck of a leader, standing up to order around with authority. His comrades putting their forces together to become even more close-knit, with strangers and foes alike, to go against the threat at large- It reminded Savoi of what rushed through him, once he ran with the wind, alongside his parents, into the fray to protect his home- Adrenaline, realistically, but also a sense of honour, pride, to uphold what they stood for.

It was camaderie.

A feeling Savoi had missed all too greatly these past years- The knight, finally, decided let his guard down- Tearing at the walls he'd built up, to save himself from any preemptive pain, closed him to the world in turn. In the destruction of his old home, he'd sworn revenge, to bring all of the world down in his wrath- Blindsided, consumed even, by the terrifying notion of being weak ever again- Losing touch with everything and everyone in it, dare he even say nature itself.

As swift as he once moved with the wind, Savoi did so again- Albeit this time alongside the company of his allies, perhaps turned friends now. His magic ever in tune with the environment, it was as if the knight was blessed once again by Dryadas, for having found his way back to peace. No more did he have to completely go left or right, let alone split himself to the extreme- Nothing could stop him, even if he and his allies were on newfound grounds- Even if the odds were stacked against them.

As he once slashed through the middle, Savoi would find his path there once more.

That he did, still hanging on even the perilous events had finally passed. This time, not held up by his lonesome, but by his knightly allies turned friends, supporting them in turn. The close-knitness of this group was admittedly truly admirable, a sense of community that Savoi wanted to hang onto for at least a little while longer- Parcival next to him nodded in turn, fully agreeing. Finally becoming a stable part of this knight squad, this new home was one Savoi could definitely get used to.

From then on, he ran with them as any other did- The hassle of the past and the fuss of himself left behind. The End Of Dawn had changed many, including Savoi, and the knight was thankful it was for the better. Extending out a prayer, after years it was met once more with the deity who'd blessed his mother, then him after. Nature flowed around Dryadas harmoniously, as if the goddess and the world itself had unanimously deemed Savoi fit to be their champion once again.

The knight felt his magic as one with the roots it'd come from- Clouds leaving gusts of whispers, flowers blooming in song, sun rays shining proudly.

Having found his balance, Savoi took up the duty heartily- As his predecessor and the many before once did, the refound champion refused to let his values, his past and himself ever be in vain.