Retarded elf slut

"Amongst elves, it's not what you have so much as who you are. I found amongst human society the opposite! What I have very much so makes the difference of what people think of who I am!"
-  Quillos, "Gent"

Day in and day out, menial tasks were what Quillos life was about. Family, friends, the grey forest... these were things he was very bored of. "I know you find these things trivial, but I assure you that in only forty years, people will respect your mana perhaps as much as I or your mother" his father would remind him every so often.

Forty years passed. Forty years of carrying water to the village. Forty years of harvesting the crops, of hunting animals, of hard, sweaty and unrewarding work. Forty years of being disciplined. As Quillos was leaving his youth and entering an adult age, everything his father said... was the furthest thing from the truth. While he wasn't looked down upon or ridiculed, he would never be able to command the attention of his elders.

 The next sixty years were very similar to the first forty. Indeed, the first one hundred years of his life Quillos could only described as "dull and uneventful." At a century of life, with nothing to show for it,  he left to visit the Amsu.

The brash Sevedorian lifestyle shocked him. Compared to his home land, everything was upside down. Respect and social standing was about silver. Things like homes, items and relics weren't gifts one waited patiently for - humans threw coins at eachother until they gained what they wanted. A catastrophe in motion.

... then again, with a nearly empty bottle of liquor in one hand, and a courtesan in the other, perhaps a Sevedorian lifestyle was the catastrophe Quillos was looking for.