A/N: It’s my entry in NaNoWriMo! ) Don’t laugh; I know it’s bad. Pretty please review!

Summary: An elfin player finding love, an introverted human scholar finding self-esteem, an egotistical demon prince finding out that he isn’t the only person in the world, a merman assassin finding a friend, an immature fairy finding out he can be grown up, a nature-loving forest sprite recluse finding adventure, a klutzy nymph finding his inner gracefulness, a ditzy pixie finding out he really isn’t all that stupid, and a maternal unicorn making sure they all don’t get themselves killed, all in a nice, stereotypical fantasy-type world. Can it get any better?

Chapter 1: How Overly Fascinating and Hideously Uninteresting!

“Huh… what?” Telr Darkstar opened his eyes to a blurry and spinning world. He moaned and rolled off the bed, vomiting into the chamber pot next to it. He sat down a moment, willing the world to stop doing its dizzying acrobatic display. He rubbed his glazed eyes, eyes that were the exact hue of the stormy sea, and stood, stomach still churning violently. I have to learn, He thought, Not to drink so much. He ran his hands through his hair and moved to in front of the gilded mirror in his room. He looked like hell.

His straight hair was the color of a ripe acorn in early fall, and it fell to his chest, although right now it was horridly tangled. His eyes were still cloudy and full of sleep, and his breath reeked of bile, but he was still very attractive, elegantly pointed ears peeked out of his messy hair, each one of them graced with several golden earrings. Every inch of perfectly tanned skin was visible, as he was bare-naked form head to toe. His body was also immaculately built, with well-muscled chest and arms while still being slim. There was also a gold ring through one of his nipples. His face was unblemished and utterly flawless, with sensuous lips and high cheekbones. His only physical flaw was a large burn scar on his right hip.

He picked up an elaborate bone comb from the dresser and began to run it through his knotted hair. As he did, he looked around the room. It was his bedroom, and it looked as it always did. On one wall there was a door leading to the rest of the house, and opposite that a large window. Under the window was the bed, in which there was a large lump and many mussed covers. Telr was standing by the head of the bed, where the dresser and mirror were. Opposite from him was another door leading to the adjacent bathing-room, where there was a basin that could be filled with hot water to wash in.

Telr wrinkled his nose. The room smelled like stale sex. He crossed to the bed and prodded the lump. “Out.”

A young elf woman, about Telr’s age of sixteen, raised her head sleepily from under the covers and looked at him in amazement. “But baby…”

Telr threw her dress at her. “Out. Now.”

The corners of her pretty mouth turned down. “Man whore.” She leapt out of the bed and pulled her dress on, storming out of the room.

Telr smiled and sat down on his bed, working on a particularly bad snarl with the comb, wincing as he dragged it through. When his hair was finally smooth, he began to dig through his dresser for clothes. Settling on a gold-embroidered tunic that matched his hair, a lavender shirt and a pair of dark green pants. Pulling on some soft leather boots, he ignored his complaining stomach and aching head and left the room for the rest of the house.

Telr did not live with his birth parents. His mother had been a strumpet with about ten children, and cared for none of them. When he was seven or eight, his whole family had perished in a fire. He had been the only one to escape alive, and he had not done it without harm. A beam had fallen on him as he tried to flee, giving him a permanent scar. He remembered very little of his birth family, and didn’t care to remember any more.

He lived with his rich foster-family, who were never home, but that didn’t bother him. He had a reputation for being a major player and complete man-whore, and enjoyed it. He could still get any girl he wanted, anytime, anyplace.

The house he lived in was very large, a true mansion. He walked down the hall, resplendent in its expensive architecture and impressive artwork. He bumped into the maid, Kertella, who was making her rounds with an old mop and wooden bucket under one arm and an overflowing laundry hamper under the other.

She smiled when she saw him. “Allo there, Telr. ‘Ow you feelin’ this fine mornin’?” Kertella was a robust elf woman, well conditioned to working and no stranger to midlife. She had an explosion of frizzy red curls that even when kept in a bun stuck out straight in every possible direction.

“Not so good, actually.” Telr answered, smiling grimly.

“Aye. I did notice you ‘ad a fair amount to drink last night, lad.” She replied, ruffling Telr’s hair affectionately, much to his annoyance. “The Master and Mistress are downstairs, if you be wonderin’.”

Telr had just been opening his mouth to ask when and why they had come home when Kertella bustled off, again much to his annoyance. She was all-around just one irritating woman.

Deciding to go down and see if they wanted him for some reason, which he figured they probably did, Telr went down the enormous marble staircase that would take him to the main hall.

There, in the room decked out with tapestries and columns, he found Lord and Lady Skybird in all their faux-imperial glory. They had obviously just disembarked from their carriage, as they looked slightly tired and smelled faintly of horse. Lady Skybird was an elf woman in her early forties, who always wore an indecent amount of cosmetics, wore a surreal number of layers of clothing, and had her who-knows-what-color-originally hair in insanely complex styles. Lord Skybird was always perfectly groomed and wearing fancy suits, and walked like he had a rather large stick shoved up his behind.

Lady Skybird waltzed over in her hideously intricate dress, and squished Telr tight to her stiff and heavily corseted bosom. “We’re home, dear!” She cooed, practically suffocating him as she ‘hugged’ him still tighter. “Did you have fun while we were gone?”

He answered in a calculated voice, knowing the correct way to reply. “Oh, yes mother, but I am ever so glad you are home.”

“Oh!” She squealed, finally releasing him. “You’re such a sweetheart!”

Lord Skybird had reached them by this point. “Son, we have important news for you.” Telr smirked. He was in no way this man’s son. The reason he had been adopted into the Skybird’s family was because ‘Lord so-called Skybird’ was impotent and couldn’t have children. And lucky him, he had been picked because of his pretty face. He would be struck if he mentioned anything about not being part of the family, or not calling the Lord and Lady ‘mother’ and ‘father’.

“And what would that be, father?” Telr said politely wearing a forced and rather painful smile.

Lord Skybird put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, we thought it really wasn’t fair to leave you on your own so often, so…”

Oh no! Thought Telr with despair. They’re going to start dragging me with them!

“We’re sending you off to boarding school.” The Lord smiled. It looked as though his was rather painful as well.

For a while Telr was wondering rather to be relived or alarmed. He decided on alarmed. His mouth opened and closed for a moment as he tried to prevent himself from saying something he would regret later. “Oh… but… that… really… isn’t… necessary.” He stuttered, forcing himself not to yell.

“Oh, but it is dear. We wouldn’t want you to be all alone.” The Lady pinched his cheek in a way that made Telr want to slap her very much, but he refrained.

He tried another tack. “But isn’t that where bad children go? Aren’t I a good boy?”

“Of course you are son, but we thought it would just be easier. You’ll be with more people your own age, and anyways, we’ve been hearing very nasty rumors about you. We don’t believe them of course, but it doesn’t show us in a very good light, what with people calling our son a…” Lord Skybird bent down to whisper in his ear. “Dirty whore.” He may have said he didn’t believe them, but the look in his eyes told Telr, ‘We most indefinitely know that you have been sleeping with a different woman every night and we don’t want you making us look bad, however pretty you are, so we’re getting rid of you so it’ll go away.’

However, Telr pretended to be astounded. “Have they?! I am so sorry! I have no idea what would make them say such things.”

The Lord shook his head. “Just nasty rumors, I’m sure, but I think you should… get away for a while, just until it calms down.”

Telr had no choice. “I shall go pack.”

“It is already done, dear. We sent servants to pack your things as soon as we arrived. We’ll give you some gold, and I’ve bought you several new things, as well as your uniform. If you will go get in the carriage now, dear. We will write you when we get time.”

That’ll be never. Telr thought peevishly as he stalked out to the carriage. He climbed into the confection of whiteness, pulled by eight snowy horses. I hate this already.

He was going to be all alone again. It might have bothered him more had he actually had friends.

---

By the end of the excruciatingly uncomfortable two-day carriage ride, Telr had decided something. He was ABSOLUTELY not staying at the school. He had gold and clothes and other miscellaneous items. Food might be problem, but oh well, he would deal with that later. He wasn’t going back to Lord Stick-Up-The-Rear and Lady Artificial-Hair either. He was striking out on his own for real, and no one would stop him.

---

Upon entering the school, Telr was practically shoved into a room with his bags, receiving only the information that his first class was in ten minutes in the north tower. That mattered absolutely none to him, as he was not going to his first class or any other classes for that matter. He grabbed his bags and started rummaging through them, pulling out a couple of things. He would need few changes of clothes, his comb, the gold, his blanket, and a few other personal items.

After shoving the things into a small rucksack, he threw on his traveling cloak and opened the window. Judging he could jump the distance, he picked up his rucksack and leapt from the window.

Unfortunately he judged the distance rather wrong.

He heard his left ankle crack as he landed, and had to stop himself from crying out in pain. Rolling over quickly to check the damage, he felt his throbbing limb gingerly with his fingers. Thankfully he felt no break, but it hurt terribly. He forced himself to get up. Just a sprain, He thought. I’ll live.

He limped into the forest, heavily favouring his injured leg. When the pain and his fatigue became to much for him, and the forest was to dark to see much, and truth be told he was quite scared, he stopped. Leaning against a tree and fighting for breath, Telr thought he heard a sort of crying sound in the distance.

Deciding he was to tired to go see what it was, he slumped to the ground, still tying to catch his runaway breath. After a moment or two, he smelled smoke. That was rather odd. A moment or two later, there was a sort of orange flickering light. That was even more odd. It took another moment or two to hit him. Smoke plus light equals… FIRE!!! He turned and ran from the quickly growing light, but then he heard the crying sounds again.

Someone is trapped in the fire! He thought frantically. He had another good moment of indecision before turning and running toward the sounds. Towards the fire.

“Hello? Is anyone here!” He yelled as loud as he could while coughing. Pushing his way through the smoke, Telr saw a tiny figure crouched under a tree. It had something moving in its lap, and the sounds were emanating from it. As he got closer, He saw the figure was a green-haired boy with tan skin, dirtied by ashes and soot. The thing in his lap looked like a large lizard. No, not a large lizard – a small dragon!

He went and tapped the boy on the shoulder. “We have to get out of here!”

The boy looked up at him with eyes as green as the forest around him once was. “No! This is my forest! This is my tree! I’m not leaving!” He said with surprising force and clarity.

“You’ll die here, you do know that right?” Telr said, wondering if the boy was all there.

“Yes!” The boy sobbed. “And I don’t care.”

Then Telr recognized the type. This boy was a forest sprite, and would be totally willing to give up his life for any tree. Suddenly he got an idea. “If you die here, you won’t help these trees any, but if you come with me and live, you will save many trees from woodcutters and other nasty people in the future! What will all the trees still living do without you? And who will be alive to remember the trees who died here today?”

The sprite stopped sobbing. His eyes glittered. “You’re right!” He leapt to his feet, and the soot-smudged dragon leapt to his shoulder. “Follow me, I know a way out!!” He grabbed Telr’s hand and began to drag him through the blaze, to where it was actually getting stronger.

“Are you sure we can get out this way?” The elf yelled over the cracking and breaking of burning tree limbs as he was dragged into the middle of it all.

“Positive!” The sprite yelled back, and the dragon beat it’s wings as its own affirmative.

But soon they were surrounded on all sides by a wall of flame. “I thought you said this was the way out!” Telr choked out, before lapsing into a coughing fit.

“It was.” The sprite said weakly, convulsing with his own violent coughs.

“Come on!!” Telr swept the weak sprite into his arms and hurdled through the nearest wall of flame.