Iridail' has born near The Crown of Amaethea. From a young age, he absorbed the tales of the greatness of the elven people.He has no direct relatives now. They were killed in numerous raids on the lands of the elves. Only his older brother survived, but he has been missing for a long time.On the day he lost everyone, he met an old man dressed in a cloak. The man didn't introduce himself, but he said, "It's been a long time since I've seen you. Take this, it was your father's legacy." and he gave the hero a silver ring with a stone and mysterious runes. Since then, the hero has been carrying this ring with him.Since he doesn't have a family right now, he considers the elven people to be his family and is willing to protect them to the end.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
"May the sun shine upon your home!" - said Iridail.
He looked at the chair, then at the old woman, and sat down.
-"I come from a faraway land. Perhaps you have heard of those who live longer than entire kingdoms of Men..."
Iridail thoughtfully adjusted the ring on his finger.The old woman looked at his hand... A bow hung behind his back, and the calluses on his hands betrayed him as an experienced archer...
Iridail took a small, jingling pouch from the inner pocket of his traveling cloak. "Let me stay here for the night, I can pay"...
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