Role

Chapter 1

Zhenzar Kraliara was born within deep within a forgotten duergar encampment
in the sewers of Galadon. His father, Jikola was a warrior devoted fighting
with swords and axes and when Zhenzar was younger they often practiced as
Jikola said that a man must be able to handle weapons to survice. Zhenzar
like the training his father gave him, but a true warrior he would never be.
His mother died giving birth to Zhenzar, so the mother role within his child-
hood was forfilled by the local priestess, a woman of holyness and great
powers. Trelina as her name was was a true healer, her prayers would heal
even the deepest wounds or cure the strongst poison. Zhenzar was facinated
by the fact that even his father, a strong warrior had difficulties from time
to time that he couldnt handle, once a poison nearly killed him, and then
Trelina stood forward, mixed a few herbs, and prayed to her Lord and moments
after, Jikola was within a deep sleep. Zhenzar looked at Trelina, then at his
father again, and moments after Jikola stood up, and not a single wound was
to be seen upon him. Zhenzar was shocked, how could a single prayer heal the
deep wounds in just a few hours?! Zhenzar began to make up excuses for quitting
his fathers training and visisted Trelina within her temple instead, learning
a few prayers. It required all his inteligence and wisdom to just make a simple
prayer, but he continued to study the art of healing and prayers. Shortly after
a tournament was held for the children of the encampment one that his father
had arranged because he wanted to prove to rest of the encampment that his
son, Zhenzar was indeed a true warrior and not a mere priest. Zhenzar was
a little scared because he had skipped his weapon practice and focused upon
the prayers instead. His dark heart wanted to win, but there was no way he
could defeat the strongst child in the village who had practiced with swords
and maces his entire youth. Zhenzar heard of a dark altar placed within the
sewers somewhere, and went there he stumbled across a few prayers that he
had never seen before, after a few days of hard work he had learned himself a
prayer that would render the victim blind, and another prayer would poison the
veins of them. He was thrilled when the day of the tournament came, the first
battles he could fight and win with just his sword and shield, but in the final
he was rushed by his opponent, and had to flee briefly, uttering the few prayers
he had learned so far, healing his wounds, and when he was rushed again he was
prepared. He uttered the prayer he learned and the foe was struck blind. With
a satisfying look upon his face, he walked around the blind foe, and then uttered
another prayed and his foe collapsed in pain upon the ground poison running
within his veins. Victory was near, he could feel it. There was a total silence
when he raised his sword high above his head, hammered it into the helm of the
blind man before him.

He had won!

A few years passed and Zhenzar studied in secret at the dark altar he had found,
but soon realised that he would learn nothing more from it. It was time to move
on. He gathered his trusted weapons in the night, and left the encampment never
to return, that he knew. He set up to the town above, but found it to chaotic
to live in, so he moved on until he reached the ocean near Hamzah and within the
horizon, he could see land. He bought a small raft and