Role

Chapter 4

Upon my rise to the surface, I was torn and degraded.. I found myself often
contemplating suicide. My pride and self-worth had been utterly compromised,
I no longer found purpose in my existance. Why did I flee for my life? Why?
I've managed to save my body, this mortal shell..but alas, it has since been
made hollow, empty.

After many days of solitude, thoughts of suicide and self-pity began to leave
my mind, replaced by an unexplainable thirst that begged to be quenched..
Still, the emptiness that had ailed me remained deeply rooted in my being
with no sign of possible fulfillment.

Knowing full-well whatever trials that lay ahead would require much more
training, I began to harvest whatever knowledge and abilities I possibly
could. After a brief introduction to the warrior's guild, I began my training
in the academy. My stay there was short. Having caught word of a closet full
of wooden weaponry crafted for the sole purpose of practice, I decided to
make my way there. It was whilst I shamelessly plucked weaponry from that
said closet that I was embraced by such brilliant clarity.

As I turned to depart, arms full of every weapon imaginable, I came face to
face with a man I would soon know to be Thrym the BloodLetter. After a brief
inquisition of my person and motives and a good laugh at my scarred face, he
began to explain Thera to me in such a way that I could never possibly see it
the same again. Although he greatly lacked finesse and subtlety in his
speech, his words staggered me with wisdom. Until that day, I had never had a
shred of respect for any oversider.

My path was now set, and once I am ready I am to seek out a Noldarian Smith
by the name of Tahren.

Hmm, this story reminds me.. there's a potion-wielding 'warrior' amongst
Thrym's students who deserves to be delivered a most agonizing death for his
blatant disrespect. I should see to that.