Hailing from Oren Angmar lived with his father a solider who enforced the will of the crown. Here he was regularly beaten by his father blaming his birth for his wife's death. This instilled a guilt that drove Angmar to necromancy. A magic he heard of in story's of old he wished harness its power to revive his mother to fix his wrong. It would lead him elsewhere, finding no success in restoring his mother and continuously abused by his father. Angmar would steal his father money and leave his home seeking to further his study's of necromancy. He would travel further north in study of the dead and their secrets. Angmar would get his wish uncovering tomes of macabre and dread. However the knowledge of lifting the veil of death proved to much for him to bear. A boy who only sought to restore his family would become corrupt. by the whispers of Aenguls and Daemons by the promise of power and life unending. He seeks to avenge his lord by destroying the other race's and fulfill his dark purpose.
Having lived in Kal’Bryst my eyes haven't quite adjusted to the light yet. Squinting at him I say Change in temperature while mimicking his smile. I hobble towards him. That and books, I'm a scholar of sorts I say while shaking his hand. My gaze shifts, catching sight of the vibrant colors of the bazars. The endless noise of merchants advertising there wears. of sharp tonged buyers locked in debate of quilts and there value. Till me sight settles on the gentleman. As for my intentions sir, that's business I must keep to myself. I do thank you for your inquiry though. yours is a curtesy I have not been treated to in quite some time I say. Frost makes for awful company and the sailors were a rowdy bunch. Grinning at the man we part ways as I use his directions to find the local inn.
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