Depuis qu'il accompagnait le général Dorius, Ruthredir et les autres elfes de Lebethron étaient coincés dans leur propre clique. Ils campaient isolés des soldats de Lavas, se déplaçaient à plusieurs pas d'eux et étaient généralement détestés de parler à quiconque n'était pas elfique. Dorius avait manqué le pire des combats, que ce soit intentionnellement ou par hasard, et à Ruthredir, qui l'avait dérangé. L'homme n'avait pas le droit de se pousser sur les survivants - les vrais soldats qui ont enduré le feu du dragon et ont dû assister à la mort de leurs parents. Pour tout ce qu'il savait, Dorius aurait pu profiter du luxe de la tente de son officier au moment où le roi Baelnorn a rencontré sa fin.
Ruthredir était assis parmi plusieurs de ses compagnons au sommet d'une bande de fourrures quand un seul soldat de Lavas s'approcha d'eux. Mis à part les regards occasionnels ou grinçants, les humains n'avaient pas fait grand-chose pour entrer en contact direct. Quand les Lébethrons le virent, ils cessèrent leur conversation et se tint debout, les mains reposant sur les pommelles de leurs épées. Ils étaient plusieurs têtes plus grandes que le soldat avant eux, qui est pierreux se consumer comme les elfes nainaient sa stature.
"Eh, le général Dorius a besoin d'un éclaireur pour la zone à venir. Il a fait venir l'un d'entre vous."
-- Est-ce qu'il le fait maintenant? J'ai drogué l'un des elfes. "Il a beaucoup d'hommes à choisir." Le Lebethron fit un geste dans les rangs de Lavas à proximité. "Ou veut-il se cacher derrière et laisser les autres se salir les mains pour lui? Encore?" Le soldat a gagné, clairement mal à l'aise, mais a tenu son terrain.
"Écoute, je ne fais que suivre les ordres. Aucun de nous ne doit les aimer. J'ai juste besoin que l'un de vous plaise le vieil homme et vienne avec moi."
"Bien, j'y vais", a annoncé Ruthredir. "Chances, nous pouvons encore faire un meilleur travail que ses propres éclaireurs." Il se tourna vers ses compagnons et parla en elvish: <Je ne serai pas long. Dans l'off-chance il y a une menace, il sera reconnaissant que ses hommes n'aient pas été laissés à la tâche et n'ont pas remarqué.>
Le soldat Lavas a conduit Ruthredir vers le reste des personnes hapdrangement rassemblées chargées du même travail. Sans surprise, il n'y avait pas un seul Lavas parmi eux, mais un mélange d'autres Mûl elfes, d'un Siren et d'un autre humain dont l'origine ethnique ne correspondait pas à celle des soldats.
"Qu'est-ce qui retient le général?"
Ruthredir

Ruthredir stands at six feet and a quarter. He is lithe, with a soft step but a solid presence. His golden locks are woven into elaborate braids and he adorns his head with jewelry, signifying his social status. They match the deep emerald hue of his eyes, which are tucked beneath fair, pale goldenrod skin.
Race: Lebethron
Gender: Male
Personality: Typical of his people, Ruthredir empathizes with the natural world and is very protective of his woodland home. As a noble, he is sometimes standoffish and haughty, but this behavior is less frequent now, considering rank has counted for little during the remnants' constant retreat. Past conflicts between the elves and other races have left something of a spark of distrust within him, and he struggles with suppressing his prejudices while cooperating with former enemies. Ruthredir is good at heart, wanting nothing more than to defend his people and preserve the wood.
History: Ruthredir is a minor Lebethron noble and has marched alongside his kin for hundreds of years. Owing to the longevity of elven lives, he has experienced firsthand the many wonders and terrors of the world. Ruthredir answered the call to war on numerous occasions, fighting against humans and dwarves in equal measure. His arrows have pierced the flesh of races that he now calls allies, and the transition between foe and friend has been a difficult one to make. In the face of their common enemy, however, past disputes need to be set aside and even Ruthredir understands the necessity of cooperation between races.
During the battle against the Mad King, Ruthredir was among many Lebethron nobles positioned at the army's right-most wing. Though all elves can claim prowess with the bow, those of noble blood are commonly versed in the ways of horsemanship; and Ruthredir's component fulfilled the role of light, missile cavalry. The nobles performed admirably in the opening stages of the skirmish, harassing the ranks of the enemy with arrows out of their reach. When the Mad King's forces began their withdrawal to the mountains, the Lebethron nobles surged forward, overrunning fleeing foes and disrupting their formations.
Of the nobles that were assembled, a moderate number were taken by the dragon's fire. Ruthredir was among the fortunate ones that had not been in harm's way when it unleashed itself upon the allied army. Ruthredir provided service to the remnants as a scout in the following days, tracking the enemy as it pursued the survivors of Baelnorn's army. He lamented the loss of many of his kind, determined not to let their deaths have been in vain. The result of the battle still frustrates Ruthredir; and something inside of him holds the other races responsible, against his better judgment.
Equipment:

Lebethron noble's longsword
Lebethron recurve bow
Pair of dirks (long, thrusting daggers)
Quiver of arrows
Scale armor
Warhorse

Other: Ruthredir has many connections to other individuals among the Lebethron nobility. He is proficient in the saddle, enjoys playing the flute and is an accomplished hunter. Between humans, dwarves and the Andrann, he is more likely to get along with the latter. Although wary of magic, he is more curious than fearful; an elf mage is a better alternative than the rest! He would be hard-pressed to admit it, but he is envious of the elemental archers; though his mundane equipment is deadly, it pales in comparison to the destructive power of their arrows.