In only a few dozen marcs I had excelled to relatively advanced level. I had made some great new friends and I found myself helping others rather than myself.
On a small plateau in the desert one day I ran into Ildara, a fantastically beautiful woman. She had seen my battle with a zombie and a scorpion and immediately healed me with her cleric abilities. One look into her eyes and I knew the profession and the wife I would soon have.
We flirted slowly and found little excuses to be near one another. I figured I would break down and profess my love for her first, but she suprised me by beating me to the punch. It was unheard of to marry your sponsor, but I didnt care....she was all I wanted.
I learned all my cleric abilities from her and she taught me how to passionate. Until her, the only woman I had known in life was my sister...a bitter hot-headed sprite! I only hoped I could amount to half the cleric she was.
In the following days Ildara became distant and I was completely wrapped up in advancing and helping other adventurers. I never blamed her. We were growing apart and it was becoming obvious that her heart no longer lended itself to me. I never wanted to seperate from her, but I had to release her from our bond if nothing else to be true to herself.

Valorn was friendly enough to me. It wasnt hard to make friends and toss my old way of life to the way-side. But i was longing for something and I couldnt put a finger on this desire. For a few marcs I watched the adventurers come in from training around Dundee. Occassionally someone would walk in with an extreme presence of confidence and peace.
At first I hated these people! Who were they to intrude on my mood?! Friends would stop talking with me and flock to these people as if there were some force of nature drawing them close. Whenever one of these "clerics" would enter the inn i would conveniently make myself scarce and train.
Training is solitary work and I was used to being alone. However, there was something about Valorn that no other country I had visted had. It seemed that all the people I had met were fighting the same enemy and cause. I delved deeper into the matter and learned of the darkness that could consume Valorn.
It was then that I began to understand the various professions I had heard about.

After wondering for some time, I came across an outfit of young bandits. Initially I was frightened that some harm would come to me, but it appeared that they were more timid than myself. I never thought of my size as being abnormal, for my father was a figure of magnificent stature despite his social flaws. Apparently I was quite a bit bigger than all of these young men.
After a few minutes of speaking and bartering I was invited into this band of miscreants with a 15% take of any riches found provided that I front any physical assault needed. It was an offer I couldnt refuse!
I spent years with the group and became close friends with most of them. And as the older members made enough money they would find a woman in one of the various towns we terrorized and take over as governor. It wasnt long until I was seen as the leader of the group. I would think about my sister often and wonder if she was still alive and if she had found her vengeance. On a stop in the country of Valorn, I made a fateful choice while thinking about Fresia.
I disbanded the thieves and decided to stay and finally grow roots. It would be easier to hear news of Fresia if I were to stay in one place. And i had long been in need of true compainonship.

I was born in an abandoned smith shop amongst discarded ferrier tools and a dusty furnace. I was nothing more than a nuicence to my parents; a mistake made in the passion of a drunken stupor. Most of my childhood I spent alone with the random goat or passing dog while my parents scrounged for treasure to feed their livers with the poison they so desired.
I awoke one morning from my bed of straw and thatch to the sounds of a little one crying. I hadnt seen my parents in several months save for the one visit from my father who had apparently wanted to take what rusty tools he could find laying around to sell for ale money. The screams of an infant were deafening and when I tried to see where they were coming from my father quickly backhanded me into the furnace. He roared "see what your bitch of a mother did!?".
After the screams from my mother and the new infant had subsided, my father picked up mother and carried her over his shoulder away from the shelter. No doubt to fill his belly with ale to forget about his newborn child.
After I had made sure they were gone I ran to the baby and clutched it into my arms. I had no idea what to do or how to care for it, but this little person was my kin and if it were to have any chance it was up to me.
For months I fed my sister with goats milk and changed her as often as the rags could be cleaned. Again, no sign from mother or father.
Time passed and Fresia begand to grow quickly even on the slight nourishment of local herbs and the occassional hare. We were surviving.
After a few years Fresia became curious and asking questions about our parents. I told her the truth, and ever since I have regreted doing so. From that time forward she vowed to seek revenge on our parents. Particularly our father. I had long let that ship sail and eventhough I sought restitution, I would not seek it actively. I decided that Fresia was old enough to fend for herself and left one day. I could not bare to hear her speak of such violence and damage.