Role

Chapter 2

High up in the branches of an old tree, a young, dark haired man can be seen;
he has perched himself in a comfortable position overlooking a rather
primitive village. Whispering quietly, he rapidly talks to himself, enhancing
his already wild appearance.

"The famous Village of the BattleRagers, yes, what better way to spite
father? He would enjoy hearing that, his son, a great Vayeth a pathetic
barbarian?"

Rocking back and forth on the tree branch, the human laughs maniacally to
himself.

"But how to deceive the Villagers? I do not like magic as I used to, but I do
not hate it as they do..."

For quite sometime the Human remains quiet, and simply watches the Village,
but slowly a smile begins to play across his face.

"I am Ferrod Vayeth, orphan of Balator, yes, none will track my name there,
and my entire family was destroyed by Scion Mages. For this reason I have
harbored a deep hate for the Magi as long as I can remember."

Continuing to talk to himself, he works out all the minor details about his
upbringing.

"There is a Mage-Hating warrior in Balator, yes? Oh yes! Thyrm, and his
rag-tag followers. Yes, yes, perfect. I used to sneak away and train with
them, yes, for my hate for Magic truly runs deep!"

Dropping down from the tree, the human practically skips away from the
village. His laugh can be heard long after he has vanished from sight.