Role

Chapter 1

Ebrithyl Eventide born of parents from a lowly house in Darsylon, spent his
childhood in Darsylon helping his parents work the market, selling the quality
basket weavings his mother made, and the leatherwork of his father. They
lived on the outskirts of the treetop city, in a meager house that their wages
afforded them. Ebrithyl was a smart child, and always keen to lend a hand to
his parents work. He played with other elven children in the market, and helped
his family when he could.

One terrible night, a horde of orcs from the blackwater swamp surrounded the homes
of the poorest of elven families living around the outskirts of Darsylon. The orcs
had surprised the night watchmen, and prevented the raising of any alarms about the
assault. Ebrithyl's family home was one of the first to be set ablaze by the orcs.
Smelling the smoke, Ebrithyl's father woke from his slumber and cried out - waking
the sleeping family. Grasping for his short sword in the flame lit half-dark abode
an enormous Orc burst into the home, axe in hand. Ebrithyl's father grasped his
sword just as the orc fell upon him, axe thirsting for blood and his fathers scream
echoing in the night. Ebrithyl watched in horror as blood erupted from his fathers
wounds and spattered the now ablaze home with stains of crimson. Ebrithyl's mother
thrust herself in front of young Ebrithyl, at this age not quite old enough to be
considered a man. She said in a most serious voice "You have to escape now, son.
You have to survive this, and avenge your father and I, flee and live to bring
justice to the perpetrators of this terrible night. You are strong and courageous
and you should seek a guild to train you in the arts of fighting. Do not lose your
innocence, and your kind heart son, but bring vengeance to the wicked who have
destroyed our lives. Run now!" Ebrithyl, with tears in his eyes, ran through the
now roaring flames, his mothers fingertips slipping out of his grasp as she turned
to pummel the orc with her fists. The orcs cruel iron axe swung widely and caught
the side of Ebrithyls cheek in it's arc, before beheading the woman he had called
mother for all of his life. His cheek burned at the bite of the iron axe, and blood
streamed down the side of his face as he bolted through the flames. He ran with
the reknowned agility of his kin, and evades several menacing orcs on his way out
of the now burning outlying village. Into the relatively safety of the vale he
hid himself through the rest of the night, not sleeping a bit and mourning his
now slaughtered family. Vengeance and retribution gleamed in his now hardened
eyes.