I am (You are) walking through a home I (you) once had. (You still have it.) I (You) are alone. Golden twilight filters through the window as dust motes twirl in the air, and I (you) decide to step outside. I am in a forest. (Have you ever seen a forest?) The light's turned dark, yawning blues and restless purples, as mist creeps across the ground and caresses your (our) ankles. Your (my) home is gone. But in the mist you (I) see something dear to you (us) that was ▮▮▮▮. Lost. Destroyed. Dead. Gone. Gone. I (we) never thought we (I) would see it again. I (You) give chase but no one (no one) can wrap their (who?) fingers around it.

A voice echoes through the darkness.

Come, just a little further! You're almost there.

Then you (you) wake up.

A stubborn but diligent silversmith. They're aloof, perhaps intimidating, but dedicated to their craft. Their parents were world-renowned blacksmiths and weapon-makers, but they abandoned that future to pursue silversmithing. Now, they craft jewelry adorned with the most delicate filigree.A quiet, reclusive miner. Some think they're cruel, even creepy, and rumors abound, but in truth, they're deeply kind, just a bit grumpy. Their job is to carve out new caverns to become future villages to accomodate the growing population.A lighting engineer. They are constantly working on new inventions to try to make the lights in Dolsia bigger and brighter. They are a bit haphazard and flustered, always in a hurry, but they try to be friendly.A younger caelian trying to start a theatre. A pure heart that wants to bring up morale in their dismal town through music and entertainment.An eccentric, older caelian who cares for the strays that have come to reside in Dolsian cities: escaped pets, injured wildlife, and any local fauna that happens to cross their path. No one knows how they have the resources to take care of all these creatures by themself, but it turns out they have an estranged child supporting them.