R3DxHE4D

Karev was raised by his father but this was short-lived even by elves standards. His father was a Pyromancer, or so Karev was told as he possessed little to no memory of him now, so the story goes that his mother died giving birth to him. His father died of his own hand as is often the case with this elemental evocation, reduced to cinders along with the family home, he was an amateur pyromancer at best. Karev was then raised by a dark elf who took it upon herself to give the child a decent upbringing in their small village on the land of Aegis. She was a tailor, fashioning garments that she would sell at the market for a pittance she managed to make a somewhat decent living enough for them both, Karev took to this quite naturally and soon he had begun to craft his own wares to sell on to help with the rent. However, this cozy life was not to last. One day, when taking his turn to haul their wares to the market, Iblees’ drakes descended upon his village. This was it, he had heard of the struggles going on in defense of their home but this was the first time any real sense of danger had befallen him. Shook, he hastily fled the village and left the land with those that managed to escape. Not knowing whether his adoptive mother had made it out safely or not and stricken with the guilt he pledged to do good in life, to help those in danger. “Maybe my mother will make it to this new land,” he thought. Years went by and no word of his mother came. He stayed at the port town he landed at for what was at least 200 years, long past the last arrivals to the new land inquiring with each person that landed if they had seen the woman whose face he clung onto in his memories. Here in this small town, he learnt many things such as carpentry, construction, smithing, and basic sword-wielding but none of these new-found skills compared to his first love, tailoring. He made friends, they came and went but he stayed. Time, however, does great things for the hurt and sorrowful. Karev had grown to accept what must have come of his mother and decided that to truly move on he must also do the same with this town he had called home for so many years for it held too many painful memories. With nothing but the remains of his fathers' sword (a novelty really with no practical use lest he risks breaking it) and the knowledge of tailoring various garments, he set off to discover a place in the new world for himself.