Vanir Zuda was not from the land of Arcas, hailing from a far off land away from the Heartlands. He was actually born on a boat as his parents were traveling over in hopes of a better life and a fresh start for them and their new family in the making. They had made it to land, newborn Vanir in hand but it wasin’t as quiet and as peaceful as they had hoped it to be, but they settled down on a nearby farmstead, offering their services to the nearby farm owner. As Vanir grew up to be a child, his father taught him lessons of sword use and archery practice, his mother also forcing him to sit down and read up on the arts and history of various things, though Vanir hated every moment of it, he went through it, for his mothers sake. Eventually things quickly turned sour and the farm was attacked, everything was burning and the farm was no more, his father took up arms against these so called bandits or whatever they were, Vanir did not quite know, but both his parents were slain that night and he was left alone, an orphan. He had escaped into the distance, wandering farther and farther into Arcas with a sour look on his face, but he was ever determined to survive, to live on, to create some kind of legacy, in order to make his parents proud of him, if they were still watching him, from up above or wherever it may be.
