Ashyr's young life was generally full of torment and humiliation from his peers. Being slighter and certainly not as strong as the bulk of his kin made Ashyr an easy, irresistable target for virtually all the males who would attempt to claim some small level of dominance over him. While Ashyr's family did not share the beliefs of his peers, they made no attempts to stop their harsh treatment, under the belief weathering such challenge would help Ashyr gain the strength he'd so far been without. This treatment however would give Ashyr less strength of body and far more strength of will. Specifically, the strength of will to drown Bokar, his life-long bully in the river one morning after he'd slipping into the water while attempting to steal Ashyr's clothes as he bathed. Bokar's body was never found, perhaps carried away by the river? Perhaps Ashyr found another, more subtle way of removing the proof of his crime. One thing was for certain though; Bokar never returned to the Clan settlement. A fair few cast rightfully suspicious eyes upon Ashyr, though most suspicion was dissolved quickly thanks to Ashyr's seemingly weaker form. Despite no official charges ever being leveled again Ashyr again, he quickly found any other dominant males of his clan regularly giving him a freshly widened berth.
As Ashyr grew, so too did his proclivity towards knowledge and his interest in the stories he'd hear of the mysterious force of 'magic'. Any mention or discussion with his family on such topics would be regularly shunned, their Clan as a whole and their family unit as well seeing magic as only a source of suffering and chaos. Numerous times Ashyr's Mother and Father attempted to dissuade his interests in the mystical arts with no avail, but at the very least the power to keep him from striking out on his own in search of such knowledge was theirs... for now. It wouldn't last however, particularly just before Ashyr were to reach manhood. A sickness that no medicine man could combat struck an Uncle Ashyr had been particularly close with. Their clan threw every resource they could spare at the sickness but to absolutely no result, leaving Ashyr's uncle to slowly begin wasting away. Multiple times Ashyr begged his parents and the Chieftain of their settlement to seek magical aid from foreigners, yet these requests would often be met with dismissal at best or the ire of whoever's ear he had. Seeing no other way to save his uncle, Ashyr would attempt to sneak from their home to find aid for his uncle himself. This plan would never see fruition, however as mere minutes after sneaking down from his family home in the dead of night, he was apprehended. Brought before the Chieftain of his people and imprisoned while rudimentary medicine was continued on his uncle. It would save him and Ashyr, would spend a night in a cell. Only to learn of his Uncle's death in the morning and taste the same coppery fury he tasted the day he pushed Bokar's head under the water. Ashyr was released later the same day.
Ashyr slipped into what seemed a catatonic state among his family. Barely eating, drinking. Spending most of his time sleeping in his little hovel rather than putting any effort towards the family or the Clan. Seeming to all the clan as an invalid, unworthy of duty or even consideration. This was precisely what Ashyr had wanted, however. Giving him the opportunity to slowly gather supplies he would need for his journey. Until one night, as Ashyr's father blew out the candles that lit the different chambers of cliff-face hovel. With not an eye or an ounce of suspicion leveled against Ashyr, he found it surprisingly simple to slip from his own, scale down the face of the towering cliff and sprint out until he reached the dried-grass hills a mile or so outside of his Clan's lands. Ashyr stopped just long enough to turn and stare back at the seemingly countless chambers, hovels and tunnels carved into the face of the craning cliff he'd once called home. His stare transforming into a sharp-eyed glare before he simply turns away and literally puts the past and the simple minds of his people behind him.
Many months and many miles of travel finally brought Ashyr to the shores of Sutica. By all accounts, his best chance at finding someone, anyone who could give him the answers he sought. Such open trade and the flow of coin would surely end up pointing him in one direction or another... and if he had to fail a few hundred times? Well, Elves did still live a long, natural life after all.
