(suck at writing so bare with me)
My early years was mostly a blur, “father” told me i was lest on the steps of the church in a small town that travelers barely knew but it was their nether the less. My father was a priest of the church every one respected him till the day he founded me … he constantly preach that is the actions of once soul that determines his fate at the end the nature or the appearances of the person. But people still were scared thinking he was raising a demon… the other kids tease me in school and one thing to another. Father was mad but he would always said “Its [human] nature to defend ones self and his honor and name.” (even if my name was a petty nick name, i grow up accepting it.)
As years pass people started to accept me for who i was not what i was , but somehow could not shake the felling i felt i was not wanted and all they do is try to find a reason to chase me out of town. Father though me to respect all forms of people except the once with evil in their souls but that every one deserves a second chance but once they loss the chance theirs no saving them… I always felt he was harsh on that rule but he had a point.
One night as i lay and wondered why i was who i am, why i don’t really have a past, real parents to look up to or a real purpose in this world. But as father tells me, “life will always give you a path to take even if you don’t see it”. His words echo in my mind as i close my eyes for the night and wonder how i can ever repay him for everything he has done and the sacrifices he as done for me to take a chance to become the person i am today…. i wake up to the heat so intense i could swear i was in hell, i could smell tick smoke that seem to be as dark as the darkness could be. In my hand is a small blade covered in blood.. My first knife i ever forge when i help the local blacksmith as one of fathers punishments when i got in a fight with the kids at school. I always hide it from father and i never use it to hurt a living soul… but the blood … so dark …so red… i worried who is it from… as i get up i feel the a pulsing pain in the side of my head … “what happen”? as i steady my self to get up. Then in a panic struck i wonder about father is he ok were is he … is he still alive?.. i rush to his room yet has not been touch by the fire .. his bed is empty, and his room is a mess like is he was looking for something he hide… still clench to the blade i head to the other rooms to look for him in haste. I almost past up the room his body lay… i stood by the door way in shock and i drop the blade in fear of the worst… the fire warring but gets faded away at the site of my fathers corps … their was number of wounds on his body, too dark to tell by the smoke… before i could pray on his soul i could hear the sound of the towns alarm… almost rarely use but is their warning the town about the fire… my hands?! Their covered in blood and theirs no site of the intruder or anything … just the demon child. Their was no time to waist and the fire has gotten fierce and and too big to get any of my belongings so i ran to the back with only my shoes and the clothes on my back. I ran to the edge of the forest and hid till the took out the fire, afraid that with out my fathers word of wisdom they surly hang me just for just my nature… so i left the small town knowing i could never come back.
It was not long before i found a town i could work as a blacksmith till i was able to get back on my feet and i ran across a few adventures looking for of course adventure and i fingered this was my path to take and help avenge my fathers death by the best way i can…
