Silverfire

Before his trusted elven brothers Ensana Ginbeck and Derek Steadyfingers had joined him; before his path had crossed the surprising human Berkley Whitecloak; and long before his sensibilities had been assaulted by the boorish dwarf Vlad Pwent, Razell had wandered the lands as a sell-sword. His childhood was mostly blank to him, he had grown up in the care of his uncle, Xidias Darkstar in a small village near the western coast of Kemmermere. It seemed that no matter how hard he might try; his past always remained a mystery to him. His memories always seemed pleasant enough yet, did not connect to any concrete facts of his history. The more he tried to remember the cloudier his recollection of the distant past seemed to become.

As he sat on the back of a cart laden with goods which he did not care about, and destined for some town that he did not know, Razell found himself pondering over time he had spent with his late uncle. Xidias had always provided well for the young elf as he grew into adolescence and his early adulthood. Razell had never wanted anything that his old uncle could not provide which kept the young elf ever close to the small cottage they shared on the northwest coast of Kemmermere. After much prodding, Razell found that Xidias had made his living as a soldier and sorcerer in the service of Kemmermere. Later he became an advisor and ambassador for the kingdom before retiring to his small cottage by the sea.

Although his uncle was generous when passing on his vast knowledge of many things, it seemed that Razells’ past was off limits. Every question posed on the subject was hedged if not outright ignored. All he had ever known is that his parents had perished while he was very young and Xidias had taken him in as his own children had long since grown and moved off.

Those children had visited few times over the years but it had been often enough for the young Razell to question his uncles claimed relation to him. While Razell had bright silver eyes and flowing silvery hair with fair skin, Xidias and his children had dark, nearly black eyes, brown hair tinged with a hint of red and dark, bronzed skin. If Xidias Darkstar truly was his uncle it must have been a distant relationship.

Eventually the young Razell had given up interrogations on his uncle. Deciding that it would never get him anywhere he chose to accept what was for its face value. Over the years the boy learned to speak and read not only his own tongue but also the common language of the goodly races. He was given lessons on the world outside of the Forest Kingdom which included histories, economies, customs, and politics of many of the surrounding countries.

On top of these lessons Razell became enamored with the glittering longsword which hung atop his uncles’ mantle. Reluctantly, the old elf agreed to teach swordplay as well. The dance of the blade seemed to come naturally to Razell and it quickly became his main lesson and obsession. Razells’ clearest and most fond memories were of him and his uncle sparring on the beach as the early morning sun crested the horizon.

Unfortunately at this point the ever smiling Xidias had little energy left to keep pace with his lively young nephew causing the sparring matches to become shorter and shorter in duration until they ceased altogether. Soon afterward, on a calm summer night Xidias Darkstar escaped his mortal coil while he slept. Within days his children arrived at his home, prepared their father for his final rite and returned him to the earth. Razells’ life became a surreal blur through that trying time leading him to pack his possessions and leave the small cottage on the coast far behind him.

The cart jerked to a halt and Razell heard the panicked neigh of a horse. Men were shouting and weapons were grating free of scabbards all around him. With a sigh the elf hopped down from his seat and drew his sword.

“Time to earn my gold, again.” He muttered darkly to himself.

As he moved around the cart he wondered how many more times he would have to help these inept humans. By the time he met the first goblin bandit he had decided that the price for his services had just gone up.