Born to loving parents in some town that no one remembers, I came into this world to leave my mark. My mother was priestess of Tyr and my father was a warlock, both were in service to the Order of the Burning Dawn. My father was a high ranking officer in the order and he dedicated his life to the advancement of his career, often neglecting his family in the process. I was always on the move and didn't have a place to call my own, however, everywhere we went we were well known and respected.

Wanting to carry on tradition, I enlisted with the order when I was of age and it pleased my father greatly. However, I wasn't the strongest man like he was and struggled to find my fit in the organization. Often being passed over for jobs because the superiors didn't have enough faith in me. Finally, my father decided that I should train with the Bard's College and he gathered the money to make it happen.

About a year into my lessons, just when it started getting good, I was out on the town with a handsome man named Chrystephor After a few drinks, we decided to go "ghost hunting" at an abandoned cave that was said to be haunted. Turns out, it was an ancient witch who petrified us and left us as stone decorations in the cave! When the spell finally wore off, I noticed the witch, dead in the corner. How long had it been? And where was my Chrystephor!? I had no time to think, I ran out of there fast as could be. Once I was far enough away that I could gather my thoughts, I had to come up with a plan. I couldn't go back to the College, not without Ariell. I couldn't go home without her either because I might be labelled a murder. So I chose to go back to my parents at the order.

My father secured me a spot as the morale officer and I followed the order around for the next few years until a great battle occurred. One night, while the camp was asleep en route to a job, it was set upon by Orcs! It was a massive battle that even I had to pick up a sword to fight back. Eventually, the orcs were repelled but not without great loss. About half of the troops were killed and many more injured. Among the injured was my mother. I tried like hell to heal her over the next few months even when the order healers gave up. Finally, about a year after the battle, my mother succumbed to her injuries.

I set out again, unable to look at my mother's pictures or my father's sorrowed face. It's time I make a name for myself and forget my tragic past. I will create my own future!