Dalthwin was a farm kid and was tilling a field one day when his father, Ylyndar, asked me to go into the city to get some supplies for supper. I came back some time later and my family was slaughtered. I found my sister barely clinging to life and she warned me that there was a roving band of raiders that came through and killed everything on our farm, my family included. I watched her life slip away and the light left her eyes while she laid in my arms, bloody, beaten, and bruised. From that day I swore I would bring them to justice or die trying. I keep a piece of bloody clothing from each family member to remind me not to stray from the path. From there it was the orphanage or the military. I joined the military in the closest big city so I could be trained, fed, and to learn how to fight. Over the years I honed my skills and became a champion for the people. I'm now 38 and have completed my service for the military. Now, it's time to hunt. I managed to do some digging since that terrible day. Turns out my father was a "merchant" of certain types of "goods" for certain types of people. Real rough crowd. One day he came into a large sum of money offered for a job where he was to procure some "goods" for some very, VERY bad people. Turns out those goods he was looking for were in the possession of an even worse man with a knack for violence. My father managed to get the items, get them to the buyer, and had his "one last big score." We left our home, but I was just a baby at the time and have no recollection of where it was. Mother and father always told us that the farm is where we were from, and I had no reason to not believe them. We lived comfortably, but also everyone had a job on the farm. I often wondered how when times were hard for the other people around us, we managed to somehow be unaffected. Years progress and apparently the man my father stole from had managed to find out where we relocated to, and decided if he wasn’t going to get his goods or his gold back, he would send a message to anyone who dared to cross him. I found out after joining the military in a rather odd way that I had some form of surgery completed on my ears. While the man who did the shearing of my hair was working, he noticed areas that had been stitched from years and years ago. I asked him what it could mean but he was a simple man, barely even a barber. He did have information on a local man that there was in town who was available for “less than savory” surgeries and modifications. I went to his house one night and found out the truth. My father and mother had all of our ears clipped to seem as though we were just humans. They did it to protect us of course, anything to stay inconspicuous I guess. But in the end it didn’t help. Whoever my father stole from found us, and stole everything from me when I was 20 years old. Along my travels after I served my time in the military and searching for any information about who hunted down my family, I found a fresh bear cub hiding in the rain in an overhang. It appeared that maybe the mother had died during birth. Such is life I said. After looking in its eyes I saw the same fear I saw in my sisters that terribly day. I could not help my sister, but I’ll be damned if I let this cruel world take my spirits. I decided to care for and nurture him and he has become my little faithful steed.
My father’s name was Ylyndar (175, deceased) and my mother’s name was Fiowarda (70, deceased). We never quite had a last name.
I'm the oldest of 3. Dalthwin (38, alive), Gathrenria (13, deceased), and Kylosiel (15, deceased. Faithful steeds name is Einniw, pronounced Ay-niv.
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