All the way in the middle of Haelun'or's bustling capitol, a dark elf and her farfolk husband eagerly awaited their newest member of their family. The mother- a brilliant and arrogant dark elf- knew this was going to be her only child and had to do everything in her power to make them happy. She proposed a parenting tactic, that soon became an edict for the both of them, to never let their generational expectations of their ancestors to weigh down their child. And they kept this promise for a wonderful 7 years for their bouncing baby boy.
That was until the lady of the house disappeared in the dark of the night- and hasn't been found since. The farfolk father maddened by his wife's sudden disappearance ripped his promise in half. And for the next 15 years, he pushed the unrealistic expectations of his ancestors onto his son. Throughout these years, Durnin learned to sword fight, speak common, dwarven, ancient elven and Arabic, and high elven etiquette.
When he finally turned 22, the start of the Second Age, he took the chance to flee to Almaris. In this new continent, he began to regularly bleach his hair- in a fleeting effort to maybe connect to his lost mother.
Durnin looked the man up and down- studying his intentions. He paused- almost hesitating before answering the well dressed man.
"Hello... kind sir..." He thought for a second, pondering the question. "I come to your beautiful city for work- so to make my father proud, and possibly find a fine tutor to further expand my studies." He spoke with pride as he talked about a possible tutor- a sparkle of an eager student.
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