I was born in a huge village called Yernle. Had quite the fun growing up. Hunting cats, dogs, pigs and what not for food. Got my first weapon at age 6. A beautiful dagger. I remember the feeling i had when i first used it on one of the undead. When i turned 15 i went on my 1st battle with my dad. The screams, the blood....the fun i had. It was glorious. But it was only 3 years later that all the fun was hushed...by the dark ones. At age 18 my dad told me im ready to go with him and the others to slaughter the dark ones. Finally! Ive been wanting to go through that portal all my life. And now was the time. So my father activated the portal and we waited....Nothing came through....So we went in. But as soon as we were all in, the portal shut. It was a trap. We were in the middle of Hell itself. We fought like the great Orcs we are! But eventually we got worn out, we needed to rest, get food and water. We ran away from the monsters but no matter where we go, there was more of them. But after sunning for so long, i realized...i was all alone, in Hell. It seems after a year i was able to find the portal which we entered from. i was able to fix it and open it. to return home. Surly the dark ones are too dumb to plan a surprise attack like so and break the portal....that means one thing. Some one from our village is behind this. Behind the murder of my family and bretheren. And so three years later, i, the last male survivor of Yernle, am on the hunt for the murderer.
