A Wanderer Returns (( drabble 'event' signalling RP and character return ))

Theme ~
(( to set the tone, the male voice is the character's feelings towards returning back home, and the female voice is his duty to the Corenites, the bandits he started, the hole referring to their HQ ))

He came back a changed man to a changed Uladh. The ship the wanderer had found was large, and had enough room to accommodate him and his two companions, as well as a number of other immigrants to the nation. He, however, was not an immigrant. He would be returning to the country after disappearing for what was now six years.

The port was a welcomed sight; after a war caused by racial tensions taken to the extreme, the cooperation of humans, fomor, giants and elves in this bustling port town relieved him of the image of an Udalh at war once again. The war of Fenrir Eir, the aftermath, all of it had played in the slow decay of his sanity, but that was the old wanderer; the one that had left all he had loved, cared for, and led behind on a whim. A social suicide, one may call it.

He journeyed to the ends of the continent, revisiting old sites of old wars, reminiscing on the fond memories he shared with those few he has shunned in his last weeks in Uladh. The land was saturated in artifacts that triggered many memories and many associations. It all slowly came back to him. What he left, and what he hoped to repair with his return.

He found himself sitting on the hill outside Dunbarton; a hill that he and many others had sat upon and talked philosophy, beliefs, truths, and strategy. He didn't know if these relations would be as easy to rekindle, but he would try. The wanderer would find some way to contact these individuals. He swore that he would make amends, and if at all possible reconnect with these friends.

Oreni nudged him, and pointed his nose at an emblem he had taken to wearing: upon his chest, on a necklace, sat a pendent with the image of a wyrm flying through a sandstorm. The symbol was significant to him. It reminded him that his duty came first, but that all obligations would be met in time.

With his bear and a new friend befitting the wanderer’s own title at his side, the Dunewrym took the first boat to Iria, and was last seen wandering deep into the Longa Desert. The Corenites had Kenelm to lead them, but Zachary Dellinger felt it was about time to re-emerge in his own, unique way. A smirk crossed his face, one that those who knew him were intimately familiar with.