The Wandering Continent of Ire on the planet of Sura is an old, odd land. It is home to elves, humans, dragons, and other intelligent races. It also is home to beings considered less than intelligent; goblins, gnolls and trolls, all with the instinct of hunger. Many groups have sprouted up and sputtered out in eras past, but the only one that stuck was the Adventurer's Party. Among its many members is a half-elf marred by battle and loss yet keeps his morality nonetheless: Dorian Lutz. He's seen terrible things and stopped worse. This isn't about his ascent up the ranks and making his name, no. This is just one of the many arcs in his story. Or is it? This is a rewrite of Wayward Moonlight on Scribblehub by me, obviously. I found myself lacking further vision into what I was doing and, when I looked back from an objective standpoint, found the story wanting. Hopefully this time I'll even get some consistency!