Intro

There are many Viera villages tucked away in the depths of the Golmore Jungle, with some better known than others: You would be hard-pressed to find a Dalmascan worth their salt who didn’t know of Eryut village, but name a much smaller village—those that are often almost impossible to get to with their territorial leporine guardians—and naturally anyone would shrug their shoulders. Danlíf is one such small village, its residents shunning the outside world wholeheartedly. Fiercely protective of their small claim of the jungle, they would remain an enigma to Dalmasca and many others for quite some time.

...Until a wandering alchemist started poking her nose around the jungle, that is.

Background

Danlíf was a small village, sequestered away in a part of the jungle that most Hyur would dare not venture to. However, this wasn’t always the case, for within their long oral history lie a few decades’ worth of exchanges with non-Viera foreigners and natives alike. Mentions of exchanges with Dalmascans were plentiful in number, but a deeper bond was shared with their foreign visitors: Thavnairians. It is said that for a time, troupes of dancers from Thavnair were granted succor in Danlíf during their travels. As thanks, the dancers would showcase their war dances to the viera and bond through teaching villagers these dances, gifting curious little stones that they would bring with them during every visit. It’s not known when exactly Kriegstanz, the name of their particular style of dance, became the norm within the village, but Rósinkar had witnessed its dances on numerous occasions, gathered around with the other kittens in the village to watch their elders dance before great bonfires and gleaming censers exuding aromas of sandalwood and plumeria.

When Rósinkar came of age and was taken away from his home for apprenticeship, the myriad dances of their village were some of the first things he practiced. It was as important as learning how to fend for yourself or prepare your own medicines, in the eyes of the viera of Danlíf. Because dance was life itself—an expression of oneself, and the proof of a longstanding relationship between two peoples that would forever be honored. It made him terribly homesick, but he knew it was important to protect his people above all else. He would excel under the tutelage of his mentor, and he would go on to become a capable wood-warder that defended his home tooth-and-nail.

A Duty Shirked

In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed since Rósinkar left his home. He had graduated into a full fledged wood-warder at the age of seventeen, and began to live a mostly quiet life. Hunting and patrolling the territory under his protection were his daily tasks; he would dance under the moon as he had during his apprenticeship, and defend his territory from the few adventurous outsiders that thought the Golmore Jungle was accessible land. In those ten years he had killed; it was his duty to, if trespassers did not back down and leave when they were clearly unwelcome. He was neutral to it, and had no problem with pointing his spear or bow at someone if they did not leave.

...Until one fateful night, when he found a harmless woman begging for her life.

To say she was terrified when he found her was an understatement. The woman was bleeding from a wound at her side that her hand fluttered over—pierced by an arrow, judging by what looked like a broken shaft jutting out from the thing—and couldn’t even muster up the energy to scream, though he knew she desperately wanted to. Rósinkar had raised his spear at her, its point mere inches from her face, but when he looked at her terrified, tear-streaked face he faltered. And the woman saw, because words finally came to her, and she begged for her life.

Rósinkar failed his duty as a wood-warder that night.

Nevie

Her name was Nevie sur Koenler. She was attacked by another wood-warder and ran, but she was no athlete. The viera’s bows found their mark in her side and leg, and along with the wounds the arrow had flown with enough force to break bone. While Nevie had managed to leave the other viera’s territory, she only managed to run right into Rósinkar’s. She would need to be tended to, and would not be able to walk out of the jungle for a while. Reluctantly, Rósinkar began tending to her…though he did not know what compelled him to do so. What else could he do, kill her—a woman so defenseless she could hardly run away while getting attacked? It was the first time he ever questioned his duty to the jungle and his home, and it left him restless for many nights.

Nevie was a curious woman. A former Ul’dahn Monetarist and skilled alchemist, she ventured into the jungle to gather plants that were said to only be found there. She was desperate for them, she claimed; she needed them to help a certain group of people who were fighting hard for her and many others. She knew of the viera and their fierce territorialism, but thought that if she was careful, she wouldn’t alert them. It was…very naive of her, but her honesty made Rósinkar grow a little more tolerant of her. He promised her he would retrieve this plant for her if she focused on recovering and nothing else. Nevie excitedly agreed, and Rósinkar stuck true to his word.

In the time it took Nevie to recover, the two gradually opened up to one another and began to speak of their lives when conversation took them. Nevie thought Danlíf sounded like a wonderful village, and Rósinkar grew enamored with exploring the outside world. He grappled with the idea of leaving the jungle to see the sprawling cities and different cultures that Nevie so enthusiastically talked about, and by the time Nevie recovered, Rósinkar had made his decision. It didn’t come easily, but once he’d decided, he meant to carry it out.

“Let me come with you.”

Adaptation

Adapting to life outside of the jungle was hard at first, but Nevie was devoted to helping Rósinkar at all costs. Just as he helped her, it was time for her to help him, she claimed. So they took baby steps; first, he got comfortable in her home in Valnain—a port city not too far from Dalmasca—and everything inside it. He learned to cook with more complex utensils and tools, and was introduced to fabric that was not available within the jungle, even in their village. He learned how to be friendlier to strangers, and how to navigate the city streets with Nevie. Little by little, Rósinkar’s demeanor began to change. The fact that Nevie had deep pockets definitely helped, too: thrown straight into a life of luxury, the comfort that came from living a lavish lifestyle quickly domesticated him.

The evolution was complete the day he picked out a new name for himself, one he spent moons mulling over. Roroux Primrose.

Magic Touch

In Roroux’s time spent in Nevie’s home, he quickly learned that he had a natural talent for magic, and he latched onto this with gusto. Like cooking, magic had so many avenues to explore, and Roroux was eager to see them all and improve on this newfound skill of his. He would learn how to use it, how it worked—how the aether flowed through himself and his weapons—and, if he could find a way to, how to mix magic with the dancing he still loved to do. Thus his interest in aetherology began, and his desire to leave Valnain grew as he yearned to dive headfirst into his new studies.

It took a lot of convincing before Nevie was comfortable with the idea, but she and Roroux grew extremely close in the time they spent together; she would not deprive her dearest friend of his desires.

And so, it was time for Roroux to make his way in the world.

• The dances of Danlíf take inspiration from many real life dances, namely the usage of chakrams/instruments & elaborate arm/hand motions of aravana muttu, the lively steps and hops of bhangra and, curiously enough, the practiced waist control and quick leg switching of samba.
• He's got a wardrobe to match an entire royal family's...go on, ask him about his outfits.
• Like many viera, Roroux is somewhat sensitive to aether—normally referred to as the mist by the viera of Golmore. In a sizeable quantity, he can experience tingling and burning sensations; when it gets to be too much, he’s liable to go berserk.
• Roroux is skilled in a number of trades, such as leatherworking, cooking, weaving, botany, herbalism, woodworking, and some healing arts. These were all things required to learn so that he might better fend for himself while living alone.
• He’s an absolute glutton for the finer things in life, and likes being pampered. You’d think he was never a wood-warder, looking at him…
• He has a budding interest in gold- and blacksmithing, as he looks to crafting weapons for his studies.
• Roroux has visited his village only once after becoming a wood-warder, and it was solely to do the duty required of his kind. It left him homesick more than he’ll admit.
• He has a black cat named Kolkol! She was given to him by Nevie a few weeks after leaving the jungle. Kolkol was a feral kitten with a nasty attitude, so she warmed up to the then just-as-feral viera pretty quickly.
• He recently picked up another cat, a sphynx he calls Elska. He couldn’t resist her…charming ugliness lol.
• His chocobo is a boy named Gisli! Roroux adores dressing him up ♥