Aver'velulaei was born on the trail and the trail was his home. His Dark Elf mother Hileia'yuln and Human father Ermir were merchants who traveled all around the Free Trade State of Sutica, buying goods from one town and selling them at the other. Because of Hileia's detachment from her family to follow her true love, she didn't educate her children on their ancestors and culture, preffering to focus on rather more practical knowledge.
From young age, Aver and his older sister, Vuln, were taught about numbers, transactions and mathematics. Although, he always preffered poetry and music over the art of the coin.
And so they travelled, living the lives of a merchant family, until Ermir was struck with a fatal sickness. He passed when Aver was 31, leaving his wife in deep despair. Hileia's depression and lethargy after her husband's death forced Vuln to take over the family bussiness.
Aver couldn't cope for long with the death of his father and his mother's absence. He packed his things and left his family without a word, unable to live in a constant state of sorrow. Aspiring to become a poet and find a place where he would be happy, he took a ship to Tor'Sjorvath and for the first time in his life traveled alone.
Aver looks up from the map in his hands and grins, positively surprised. He enthusiastically rolls the map and puts it back into a leather tube. "My dearest stranger, how does wealth and adventure compare to the sweet muse of artists?" He squints his eyes slightly, lifts his chin up and passionately raises his hands in an elegant manner. "Thrill of the unknown!" He rests his fists on his hips and looks at the man with a cheeky smile. "However, my sweetest friend, for now my only aspiration is to find myself in a tavern, with a glass of wine in hand." His right hand extends towards the stranger. "Name's Aver'velulaei. Shall thou lead?"
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