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Curta Aon (Male, Wood Elf, Ranger/Cleric)
R'e obscure Thorp O' Pert lay bout fifteen leagues Norwest from wot tis now known as Trisborn. Alas, and most regrettably Pert tis naught any the more, nor tis the yew forest that wonce graced r'e home. Twas during the dawning of the fifth age that a large force of orcs led bye Dark Elf Commanders razed r'e Thorp, and killed r'e enslaved my people. Ashamedly, it twere upon my watch that r'e foes commenced their attack upon Pert. I twas but a young Ranger lad at the time, and had been assigned the watch upon the northern reaches of Pert; I failed to spot the enemy forces, r'e the advanced party of wily and sneaky orcs that slipped up upon my rears. In just a few shakes of a coneys tail I found myself badly wounded, unconscious and left for what my foes thought ... a lifeless corpse. Twas my ineptness and absolute failure to raise the alarm that brought about the fall and devastation of Pert.
A full day had passed, and upon waking my wounds didst naught affect me nigh as much as havin to see Pert and the nearby forest devastated by a fire that had been set by r'e foes.
The gods twere naught wi me that day, and it twas I that brought the dark curse of death and destruction upon my folk and Thorp. My name be besmirched and tarnished forever; a new title and moniker had been given to me by those few that managed to survive ... A name that I still bear to this day. As penance to the strife that I had wrought upon my people, I gave my life o'er to the god Daghdha. E're since that devastating day that I was given my new name, I have remained in my gods service as one of his most devoted priests.
I managed to escape my foes machinations for a number of years, but they finally caught and enslaved me a few years back. E're since, I've been a workin the oars as a slave of a war galley. Twas several weeks ago that I was sold to a new owner and now found myself upon a strangely different vessel that was also made of wood. Wot savages, using the sacred wood to make seech a contrivance!
Most fortunate I was when I came aboard, as I managed to find an albatross feather ... and successfully secreted it away upon my person. I was now enabled to open that wot had been torn from me upon my enslavement, a favor (token) of my god. My spells were now available to me once again.
Rescued from slavery, I chose to remain in the ice fortress of those named Flesh-eaters.
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