For a fun thought experiment, I decided to imagine what Devon would be like near the end of his natural lifespan. In this particular world, Elves live to around 1000, twice as long as the next longest lived (Dwarves) and almost 20 times longer than humans. I can only imagine after that much time living, years begin to feel like weeks.

By the point Devon's 900-1000, Dwarves will rule the world, more or less. Due to their vastly superior technology and their blunt, relentless initiative, they would have easily taken over the comparably self-serving and dominant humans, pushing pretty much everyone into a Dwarven lifestyle of nonstop drudgery and obviously greatly hindering or completely quelching any race not built for that kind of living. While technology would evolve far faster than previously with the new, vast swathes forced labor, all of it would be purely practical and little to no aesthetic, artistic or ideological changes would occur - Dwarves are staunchly traditional and to an impractically radical degree; most of their laws they keep are completely irrational and kept purely because of tradition.

Devon's life may have gone in three different directions: he stays in the mafia and continues a highly successful career as a hitman; he leaves (i.e. runs away and hides from) the mafia and joins an army of some sort to work as a scout or assassin; or he runs away from everything to live as a hermit in a forest. Either way, by then he'd have lived through the deaths of literally everyone he's ever cared for. He wouldn't bother getting close to anyone after enough of that and would just keep to his birds (which are probably a glorious specimen after 1000 years of specialized breeding and training). He'd keep few items on him as a reminder of those he was close to - Raleigh's scarf (or at least a remade one: NINE HUNDRED YEAR OLD SCARF), Finbar's (a past Halfling friend) mug, and something of Astoreen's (whatever that would be, I dunno, she's only six and got a few hundred years ahead of herself :I).

He's also entirely lost his voice from practically chain smoking since he was 80 or so. Which is fine, since he wouldn't want to talk to anyone, anyway. Luckily, Elves aren't susceptible to disease or bodily degeneration, which is why they don't visually age as other races do, so he'd be spared from much of the trouble habitual smoking offers. He'd have largely gotten over his misanthropy and would cope with himself well, but old habits die hard and that one in particular defined most of his life and thoughts.

Also, zippers have been invented!


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