uarehere
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An armored figure sat before the hearth of Cartref Mor's tavern, clutching the letter in his hands. His eyes would wander between the words, only half reading them... His shoulders slump slightly as he continues, though not a sound escapes his helm. Underneath, his face remained emotionless. He considers dropping the paper into the fire, to be done with the memories of yet another friend lost, but falters. He instead sets the letter on the floor nearby, pulling a small crooked knife from his belt in it's stead. He stares down at it, his eyes bouncing between the blade and the fire, as a quiet chuckle escapes his mouth... "I won't forget you, f--"
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Handil was born in a small town due south of the Orenian Capital. He was born to an elf father, named Belarat, and a human mother, named Ansel. He grew up as a farmhand with no siblings, and gained in interest in the ideas of urban life and cultures of other races. At the age of 16 he set off to learn of the world and found himself in the hands of a fringe cult, who believed in a way to coexist with The Undead. Instead of standing with his current ideals, he found new beliefs in the cult and quickly became a zealot. Handil travelled for many years, and grew close bonds with others who had fallen to the cult, but was eventually tricked and left for dead by those he deemed his friends. Instead of weakening his belief in his religion, this only strengthened it, as well as introducing a hate and distrust for others. He eventually found his way back into the Oren Empire, where he constantly travels, searching for either heretics, or those he sees fit for "salvation".