Well, here's mine..
Name: Valihel
Race: Elvaan
Job: Monk
Valihel grew up as a small Elvaan child, not knowing his mother, who had died giving birth, and his Father, died durning the war 20 years eariler...
He was excepted into a temple of Monks in a small village, since not having a father or mother, the Monks of the temple took him in and raised him. He vigor and restlessness gave the Monks the idea to teach him the art of fighting, only the basics of course, for fear that he may not use his powers for good.
Days blended into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Slowly he learned the hand-to-hand fighting style of the Monks, diligently he kept on learning, and the Monks hesitated at teaching him more. Although Valihel had a good heart, knowing too much and having too much, wasn't the best for him. Shortly a few years later, the Monks of the temple stopped their training of Valihel, for his own good.
The young Elvaan was furious, thinking that these Monks wished to hoard the power for themselves. Valihel quickly shrugged off his hateful feelings, and saw that what these Monks said was true. He continued to beg the Monks to teach him more, for incase the need arised. The Monks of that temple saw that Valihel had good intentions, yet still they hesitated.
A year later, there was word heard from a near by village that Orcs were in the area, and had already attacked a caravan. The Monks along with Valihel, held a meeting in the temple to discus whether they should go seek out these orcs and put an end to them, for the good of the people. They nodded slightly, yet they didn't want to be caught in a trap, they decided to wait until more information flowed to them.
Within a week, another orc attack followed. It was said that a small band of traveling Mithras were killed and that a Mithran child was taken by the orcs. The Monks had yet another meeting, and while discussing the same thing they had a week eariler, Valihel boldly stood foward and volunteered to search for the child, if any yet remained alive.
Valihel set out at dawn the next day, he was determined to find these wretched orcs. He spent more than half the day in the wilderness out side of the village, following tracks of orcs, he had a strong feeling they were close, but he couldn't be certain.
More hours passed until he finally caught sight of a cave, what looked to be the lair of the orcs he had been searching for. He cautiously walked into the cave. It was empty. He saw bedrolls, and other similar items that showed orcs had been here, but not anymore. He turned to leave when movement caught his eye, he saw in the shadows of the cave, a wooden stake, with a small child tied to it.
It was a small Mithran child, bruised and cut in places, but she was still alive. Valihel pulled out a small dagger and cut her bonds, and she fell gently into his arms. He took hold of her and she looked up at him with soft golden eyes, that seemed to even shine through the darkness of the cave. He told her everything would be alright and with a small, but shaken nod, he took her hand and led her out of the cave.
They walked for a few hours, but the child didn't talk. It was no surprise really, since her mother must have been killed before her young eyes. Valihel sighed, but continued to hold her hand comfortingly as best as he could. The village was close and he told her every thing would be alright once they reached to village.
A strange sent came to Valihel as he neared the village. He couldn't quite tell what it was.. Smoke? He looked into the air and saw a black cloud that seemed to comfirm his thoughts. He hurried faster with the child until they reached the village, when his eyes widened.
The village was inflames, some buildings already had burned to the ground, but it was obvious what had happened when he saw orcish arrows, axes, and bodies laying throughout the remains of his beloved village. A soft white tear appeared in his eye which ran slowly down his cheek, before dropping to the dirt on the ground. Another tear followed but then he heard something.
It almost sounded like a soft 'thud', then he heard the sound again and felt the Mithran child's hand go limp. He turned his gaze from the village to the child who had fell to the ground. Two orcish arrows had thudded into her back. Valihel's tears were gone, when he saw the child with the bright golden eyes fall. He spun around to find two orcs holding small bows already pulling more arrows from their packs. Valihel couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't even think but then a thought appear in his mind.
These foul creatures will die. And with that, he yanked the claws he had recieved from the Monks before his small journey, and charged at the two foolish orcs to even think they could kill this Elvaan over come with rage.
One orc manged to get a shot off and an arrow thudded into Valihel's left shoulder, but it did nothing to slow him. The orcs dropped their bows and pulled their axes from their belts and got ready for the Elvaan's charge. Valihel's claws bit into the ribs of one orc as the other cleaved a deep gash into Valihel's arm, which made him yank his weapons free from the dead orc and tear through the one foolish enough to attack him and not run.
The two orc's lifeless bodies dropped to the ground and Valihel whipped the wretched orcish blood from his weapons. He returned to the body of the young Mithran child and he screamed in anger that he wished it was he who had been felled, not this small innocent child.
That evening he dug a small resting place for the body of the child in the burned remains of his village. He shed many more tears as he left that place, that place that had held the happiest and worst, memories of his life. The day he left, something in Valihel died, but something was born anew. He swore he would make all orcs pay, but not be controlled by vengence. He vowed into the midnight air that he would use whatever abilities he may aquire; for good.
About two weeks later he arived in San d'Oria, along with other adventures, this is where his true story, would begin.
Name: Valihel
Race: Elvaan
Job: Monk
Valihel grew up as a small Elvaan child, not knowing his mother, who had died giving birth, and his Father, died durning the war 20 years eariler...
He was excepted into a temple of Monks in a small village, since not having a father or mother, the Monks of the temple took him in and raised him. He vigor and restlessness gave the Monks the idea to teach him the art of fighting, only the basics of course, for fear that he may not use his powers for good.
Days blended into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Slowly he learned the hand-to-hand fighting style of the Monks, diligently he kept on learning, and the Monks hesitated at teaching him more. Although Valihel had a good heart, knowing too much and having too much, wasn't the best for him. Shortly a few years later, the Monks of the temple stopped their training of Valihel, for his own good.
The young Elvaan was furious, thinking that these Monks wished to hoard the power for themselves. Valihel quickly shrugged off his hateful feelings, and saw that what these Monks said was true. He continued to beg the Monks to teach him more, for incase the need arised. The Monks of that temple saw that Valihel had good intentions, yet still they hesitated.
A year later, there was word heard from a near by village that Orcs were in the area, and had already attacked a caravan. The Monks along with Valihel, held a meeting in the temple to discus whether they should go seek out these orcs and put an end to them, for the good of the people. They nodded slightly, yet they didn't want to be caught in a trap, they decided to wait until more information flowed to them.
Within a week, another orc attack followed. It was said that a small band of traveling Mithras were killed and that a Mithran child was taken by the orcs. The Monks had yet another meeting, and while discussing the same thing they had a week eariler, Valihel boldly stood foward and volunteered to search for the child, if any yet remained alive.
Valihel set out at dawn the next day, he was determined to find these wretched orcs. He spent more than half the day in the wilderness out side of the village, following tracks of orcs, he had a strong feeling they were close, but he couldn't be certain.
More hours passed until he finally caught sight of a cave, what looked to be the lair of the orcs he had been searching for. He cautiously walked into the cave. It was empty. He saw bedrolls, and other similar items that showed orcs had been here, but not anymore. He turned to leave when movement caught his eye, he saw in the shadows of the cave, a wooden stake, with a small child tied to it.
It was a small Mithran child, bruised and cut in places, but she was still alive. Valihel pulled out a small dagger and cut her bonds, and she fell gently into his arms. He took hold of her and she looked up at him with soft golden eyes, that seemed to even shine through the darkness of the cave. He told her everything would be alright and with a small, but shaken nod, he took her hand and led her out of the cave.
They walked for a few hours, but the child didn't talk. It was no surprise really, since her mother must have been killed before her young eyes. Valihel sighed, but continued to hold her hand comfortingly as best as he could. The village was close and he told her every thing would be alright once they reached to village.
A strange sent came to Valihel as he neared the village. He couldn't quite tell what it was.. Smoke? He looked into the air and saw a black cloud that seemed to comfirm his thoughts. He hurried faster with the child until they reached the village, when his eyes widened.
The village was inflames, some buildings already had burned to the ground, but it was obvious what had happened when he saw orcish arrows, axes, and bodies laying throughout the remains of his beloved village. A soft white tear appeared in his eye which ran slowly down his cheek, before dropping to the dirt on the ground. Another tear followed but then he heard something.
It almost sounded like a soft 'thud', then he heard the sound again and felt the Mithran child's hand go limp. He turned his gaze from the village to the child who had fell to the ground. Two orcish arrows had thudded into her back. Valihel's tears were gone, when he saw the child with the bright golden eyes fall. He spun around to find two orcs holding small bows already pulling more arrows from their packs. Valihel couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't even think but then a thought appear in his mind.
These foul creatures will die. And with that, he yanked the claws he had recieved from the Monks before his small journey, and charged at the two foolish orcs to even think they could kill this Elvaan over come with rage.
One orc manged to get a shot off and an arrow thudded into Valihel's left shoulder, but it did nothing to slow him. The orcs dropped their bows and pulled their axes from their belts and got ready for the Elvaan's charge. Valihel's claws bit into the ribs of one orc as the other cleaved a deep gash into Valihel's arm, which made him yank his weapons free from the dead orc and tear through the one foolish enough to attack him and not run.
The two orc's lifeless bodies dropped to the ground and Valihel whipped the wretched orcish blood from his weapons. He returned to the body of the young Mithran child and he screamed in anger that he wished it was he who had been felled, not this small innocent child.
That evening he dug a small resting place for the body of the child in the burned remains of his village. He shed many more tears as he left that place, that place that had held the happiest and worst, memories of his life. The day he left, something in Valihel died, but something was born anew. He swore he would make all orcs pay, but not be controlled by vengence. He vowed into the midnight air that he would use whatever abilities he may aquire; for good.
About two weeks later he arived in San d'Oria, along with other adventures, this is where his true story, would begin.