You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
Rakarth immediately sensed a dangerous pressence standing in front of him, he tried to cautiosly fall back from the tent, but his legs felt too heavy to even land a step in the opposite direction than the hag. He noticed a seeping stream of smoke coming from under her robe, when he suddenly started feeling dizzy and fell on his knees. "What are you do---" The dark elf slowly slided down onto the ground, losing conciusness, when the smoke quickly engulfed him in a dreamless slumber, projecting his past in front of the mysterious hag...
Rakarth, a dark elf from the enigmatic Paradise of the Lost, hails from the arid town of Kruhso in the land of Ramasar. Born into the sizable Kinsleif family, renowned for their elaborate tattoos and signature red and silver sigils, Rakarth carries his own mark—a tattoo on his left arm that extends across his back. The Kinsleif family tradition was deeply rooted in pride and skill, and each member wore their insignia with honor; Rakarth's piece was an armband on his right elbow, symbolizing his heritage and responsibilities.
From an early age, Rakarth was under the stern and watchful eye of his strict father, a master blacksmith. His father was a man of few words and unyielding expectations, teaching Rakarth the art of blacksmithing through rigorous training and discipline. The clang of hammer on anvil was the soundtrack of Rakarth's childhood, and he quickly became proficient, crafting weapons and tools that were both beautiful and deadly. Despite his growing skill, the pressure of his father's demands weighed heavily on him, creating a deep desire for freedom and self-expression.
The turning point came when Rakarth forged a magnificent sickle, a masterpiece that outshone even his father's finest works. This achievement brought him recognition and respect, but also sparked resentment and jealousy among his family, especially his father, who saw Rakarth's success as a challenge to his own authority. Realizing that he could never truly grow while remaining in the shadow of his family's expectations, Rakarth made the difficult decision to leave.
Determined to forge his own path, Rakarth bid farewell to Kruhso and the lands of Ramasar, carrying with him only his family armband inscribed with the Kinsleif sigil and a few tools of his trade. He embarked on a journey into the unknown, driven by a desire to perfect his craft and discover his true self...
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