Conceived before the Arcasian Migration, the tale of Torrien Valdamir begins outside the Capital City of Markev; the former heart of the Kingdom of Haense. Born to Jeoffroy and Mariann Valdimar, a pair of farmhands, the young Valdamir had been raised for a short time ‘mongst his parents and uncle, Ferryn Valdimar, in the wheat fields; tending to the crops and livestock with his father as his mother baked pastries to sell in the capital. Though they were poor economically, their bond grew to closer with each passing inconvenience. However, everything changed upon their inevitable move in the migration to Arcas.
There, his family’s luck had a turn for the better upon settling into the city of Ves. With his mother’s experience working the oven and his father’s experience with livestock maintenance, the two opened a small corner store; entering a life of mercantilism. Though Torrien’s parents grew too busy to regularly attend to his personal needs, his uncle Ferryn grew to be a prominent male role model in his life; taking the young lad on hunting ventures to hone his marksmanship and wilderness survival skills. For years, the two were inseperable. And then it came
The Sacking of Ves
The day had grew long and the young Valdimar had grown weary after his share of hunting game in the fields; sweat protruding from his brow as the setting sun shone on his face. Torrien’s face lit up with a smile as he inspected his spoils: a lone, brown hare the size of grown, plump hen. “It may not be much, but Uncle Ferryn will appreciate my efforts. Beats having soup again tonight,” he chuckled as he drew toward the city, gaze still upon his kill. Not long after, Torrien looked up from his lone kill, only for his sight to be met by the view of smoke billowing from the city before him. Despite his fatigue, the young Valdimar trudged into the city with haste in search of his family.
After awhile, Torrien came to find his family’s shop in ruins. Suddenly, out the corner of his eye, a charred hand was spotted reaching from underneath the rubble. Torrien, who had been on the brink of tears, had cautiously inched toward the pile of rubble. Reaching the pile, Torrien had stooped down and began to move the rubble, piece by piece until what he saw next broke his heart. In front of him, lay the charred remains of his parents, both Jeoffroy and Mariann Valdimar, embraced in each others arms.
Tears of sorrow mixed with snot flew down the cheeks of the grief-stricken Valdimar as he mourned the death of his parents.
But what of his Uncle Ferryn?
Unfortunately, he too had become subject to the results of the sacking. As the grief-stricken Torrien, then concerned of the danger that may still have lurked in the midst of the ruins, arose from his stooped position, a dark figure could be seen slumped against the collapsed wall to his right. As the last bit of sunlight crept across the ruined city, a glimpse of light shimmered across the unknown figure. And for a moment, Torrien saw it ever so clearly. Bloodied and pinned against the wall was his Uncle Ferryn, long dead from the fatal piercing by pike. For his uncle, his will had been broken, for there were no tears left to spare.
Ever since that fateful day, Torrein Valdamir has trudged through Arcas, searching for purpose as he still holds onto the grief of his fallen family; living off the land as taught by his late uncle and avoiding affiliates of the Empire
