"I was born Rula SilverHammer, only child to Hestoff SilverHammer, ShieldBrother to King Halmar Ironhands. My father was a famous warrior, the pride of our people. For years he led the king's armies to victory and defended our borders. When he retired he married my mother, and became advisor to the king. After a few years of retirement, he found out my mother was with child. For 9 months he thought about raising his son to take up his name. When I was born he was disappointed and left me to be raised by my mother. "
"My mother chastised him for his ways and raised me around the house she taught me to cook and read and gave me a list of chores to do. I worked hard every day keeping the house clean and making good food for my father in an attempt to make him smile or acknowledge me. He never smiled around me. Things got worse when my mother died. After the funeral, he was never the same. He barely spoke and never smiled. He attempted to give me away to my mother's brother, a priest of Uthar, the Dwaven God. I grew close to my uncle but I worried about my father every night. After a week I couldn't stand it and went home. I told my father I would not leave him alone because he was my father and even if he didn't love me that I loved him. I stayed close with my uncle and he and his family came over every week to keep me and my father company."
"One day at our weekly dinner, my uncle was showing my father some books he had bought from an elven trader. Unfortunately they were in elvish and he had to hire a translator. I looked over his shoulder and started reading them. When he asked where I had learnt elvish, I showed him one of mother's cookbooks she had collected. He was surprised and we worked for hours translating it. I showed him what languages I knew and my skills with numbers. When we were finished my Uncle asked my father if I could be enrolled into the school there as I showed potential. My father shrugged and agreed, he even smiled a little and said he was proud."
"I started the next day and after cleaning up breakfast my father wished me luck. My Uncle gave me the tour and put me in with the children my age. He was called an hour later and it was decided I should study with the older children in the harder classes. When I told my father he smiled and said I was just like my mother, nose always in a book. Over dinner we often talked about what I had learned that day, and it became a ritual for us. My father began smiling again and he would even tutor me in tactics, politics, and telling me tales of battles he had been in and adventures he had been on."
"By the time I was 20 I was the head of my class and I was growing restless. Fueled by my father's stories of battle and glory I asked him if he would tutor me in weapons. He immediately denied me saying that battle was not for women and sent me back to school. For days I ignored him and didn't speak, one day at school I got into a brawl with some of the older boys in the class who wouldn't keep their hands to themselves and was thrown into prison. When my father bailed me out he laughed and said he may as well teach me as I had a fighter in me after all.
"I spent my days at school, and helping in the temple and my evenings with my father teaching me how to defend myself. I trained with the axe, hammer, sword, and bow. He taught me how to move in armor, and keep from dropping my shield. I learned how to maintain my equipment and do repairs on the go. We often went on camping trips where he taught me how to survive in the wild if need be. A few times he would take me to the tavern to meet his old war buddies and he would let me listen to their stories and the occasional dirty song. Those days were the best of my life."
"Then the day came where I graduated from the school, I thought it was going to just be an average ceremony. When the High Priest came out and approached me I was shocked. He said I had been chosen as an Ollam and would take my place as Instructor at the school and be a part of the temple. I was shocked and my father and uncle congratulated. I was honored and accepted. There was a grand ceremony and a large feast as an Ollam had not been chosen in many years. My father gave a speech with tears in his eyes and hugged me and kissed my brow. It was the proudest moment in my life."
"The troubles started when they said I would have to move into the temple. I politely declined saying I would stay in my home with my father. They insisted and my father assured me he would be fine. I spent my first few months enjoying my classes and receiving praise from my students as I was different than the uptight priests they were used to. I swore and told some of my father's friends' old war stories and sang a few of the less colorful songs I knew. I loved my students and they loved me in return. I still spent every night with my father for dinner telling him now of my students and him always laughing but cautioning me that the temple wouldn't look kindly on such behavior. The next few years went by without incident. "
"Then the day came where I got tired of one of the troublemakers in my class and told him to get out. When he refused I was forced to get physical and tossed him from the temple. His family made trouble and started slandering my name. Eventually the high priest came to my class and pulled me aside. He said if I didn't publicly apologize to the family I would be punished. I stormed off and went to my father and he chided me and told me to just get it over with. I argued with him and ended up storming off angrily."
"The day came where I had to issue a public apology for losing my temper and my unorthodox teaching message. I did so, in my own way. I apologized that my teaching would not work on such ignorant, stuck up, fool headed morons. I continued for five minutes insulting him and debasing his family before informing them I was done teaching. I left with shocked and angry faces from my fellow teachers and applause from my students. I marched directly to the Commander's quarters in the army recruitment office and asked to be allowed to sign up. He laughed at first but when I told him who my father was he shut up and said he would return I a moment. He returned a moment later with my father and the high priest in tow. My father begged me to apologize saying that if I did they would allow me to continue my service at the temple but never teach. I told him and the high priest to shove it up their asses and that I was signing up for the army and there was nothing they could do about it. The high priest pulled out his symbol of office and told me I was banished from the city. I could never return and had till sundown to collect my belongings."
"I was in shock, I punched him across the room and ran home tears in my eyes as I collected my things and made preparations that took most of the day. I stopped by my father's house and found it empty. There was a knock on the door and I opened it to a temple initiate, he informed me that my father had suffered a heart attack after I had struck the high priest. I demanded to be showed to him but he informed me I was to leave the city. I swore and slammed the door on his face. I spent some time wandering the house before coming across my father's old armor. Steeling myself I spent some time adjusting it before putting it on and answering the door to a group of surprised guards who were to escort me out of the city. I spat at them and marched out of the city without looking back."