## Overview **Name:** Elenwe **Race:** Wood Elf (Ketaca Clan) **Role:** Druid, Healer, Spirit-Walker **Status:** Deceased (Meteor Swarm) **Core Conflict:** Quietly admired [[Cub]]; felt unworthy; believed her healing was "not enough." --- ## Core Identity Elenwe was not a warrior. Not an archer. Not a fighter. She was a gentle, soft-spoken druid whose magic soothed wounds but could not mend shattered bodies the way [[Cub]] could. Her skills were modest—useful, yes, but limited. And she knew it. Among the Ketaca, she had been a competent healer. Among the Crimson Blade, she felt like a child pretending at magic. This insecurity shaped everything she did. --- ## Her Feelings Toward [[Cub]] ### Admiration She respected [[Cub]] deeply—not just his power, but the compassion he wove into every spell. When he healed someone, it wasn’t just magic. It felt like a blessing. Elenwe wanted to be like that. Wanted to learn. Wanted to speak with him. But she never found the courage. ### Insecurity Every time [[Cub]] healed someone: - faster - stronger - more completely Elenwe felt that familiar sting in her chest: _Why can’t I do that? Why am I not better? Why am I even here…?_ ### Guilt When her healing stabilized a wound but didn’t close it, she watched [[Cub]] finish what she couldn’t. Each time, she felt guilt twist inside her. She thought she was burdening the group instead of helping them. ### Her Unspoken Wish She wanted to approach him during campfires. She rehearsed small questions: - "How do you reach people when they’re fading?" - "Where does your strength come from?" - "Could you teach me… just a little?" But every time, she froze—not from fear of him, but fear of wasting his time. --- ## Her Druidic Magic — Humble, Quiet, Real Elenwe’s healing wasn’t spectacular: - Cure Wounds was gentle, not powerful - Healing Word bought seconds, not miracles - Goodberry kept people alive, not restored - Lesser Restoration left her drained for hours She wasn’t weak—just not [[Cub]]. And she compared herself to him constantly. When she healed someone and it wasn’t enough, she would quietly apologize under her breath: _"I’m sorry… I’m trying…"_ No one mocked her for it. But she still felt small. --- ## Why She Volunteered for the Pits For most druids, the Pits were death. For Elenwe, they were a test. If she couldn’t heal as well as [[Cub]], then she would at least go where healing was needed most. She hoped that: - the corrupted land might respond to her touch - she could make a difference, even a small one - she might earn a fraction of the worth she thought she lacked She also secretly hoped to speak to [[Cub]] on the road south—not about healing, but about courage. She wanted to ask him: _"Were you always this strong?"_ But the words never came. --- ## Her Role in the Final Battle Elenwe’s efforts during the cliff engagement weren’t flashy: - Healing Word to keep someone conscious - Goodberry to sustain the exhausted - Cure Wounds when she could reach someone She never reached a single wounded ally on the cliff—there were none. The spell struck too fast, too violently, giving her no chance to act. Her magic rose in her hands, ready to protect, ready to heal, but the sky split open before she could even finish the first word of a spell. She whispered, "Not now… please…" not because her magic failed, but because **she did**—or so she believed. She never got the chance to try. --- ## Her Death — And Her Last Thought Meteor Swarm left no room for heroics. Elenwe was gone long before she hit the ground. But her final thought was simple, small: _"I wasn’t enough."_ She never knew that [[Thia MoonGlade|Thia]], Tessara, and [[Aenwyn]] had thanked her countless times in private. She died believing she had failed. --- ## [[Aria, Goddess of Birth and Death|Aria]]’s Words — For Her Heart "[[Aenwyn]]… [[Tessara]]… [[Thia MoonGlade|Thia]]… **Elenwe**… You did more than you know." Those words were meant for her spirit—words she needed her entire life. Her soul rose quieter than the others, a drift of green light that hesitated, unsure. [[Aria, Goddess of Birth and Death|Aria]] guided her gently, as if saying: _You were never small. You were never weak. You were enough._ --- ## Legacy ### For [[Cub]] He may never know how much she admired him. But he will feel the loss: - one less voice praying beside him - one less healer supporting his work - one less kind soul in the darkness ### For the Crimson Blade Her absence reshapes the group: - [[Cub]] strains harder - fewer healing spells available - morale grows quieter, colder - no soft voice to check on the wounded - no gentle magic to keep the nights warm ### For the Ketaca They lost more than a druid—they lost a heart. --- ## Final Summary - **Not an archer** - **Not a fighter** - **Pure druid** - **Humble healing magic** - **Deep insecurity around [[Cub]]** - **Quiet admiration for him** - **Never found the courage to speak** - **Died believing she wasn’t good enough** - **Is told by a goddess that she was**