Biography:
From a young age, as long as Kywin Is'alde could remember, he had traveled with his father's merchant caravan. He had no memories of his mother, his father said that she had died shortly after he had been born. His father was a simple man, with no complex tastes or hobbies, aside from perhaps the slightest level of magic his father was able to achieve if he set his mind to it. His father said that maybe Kywin would inherit the ability, someday.
***
Kywin dared a glance over his shoulder as he leaped over a fallen log. The bear was still following him, and it was gaining.
His father, Al'lnaria Is'alde, had told him that there were bears in the Dapplegreen woods. He had told him to stay with the caravan and don't wander off. But he had. Kywin was only a 76 year old rebel, his natural child instinct was to do what his parents told him not to do.
Kywin regretted that choice now. He could hear his heart pumping in his ears, leaves crunched under his feet as he ran.
And then he came to the gorge. It was to deep to climb down, and to wide to jump. A small stream ran across the bottom of it. He grabbed a long stick from the ground, and turned to face the bear. He swung it around towards the bear.
But what happened then was unbelievable. Flames leaped from his hands down the branch, of the end, and into the bears fur. It reared onto its hind legs, and fell still.
Kywin stood there, in utter shock. He had just summoned fire, from his hands, to kill the bear. He had to tell his father!
Running hard for almost an hour back towards the camp, on pure adrenaline, he reached the caravan before nightfall. Or at least where the Caravan should have been. Are there was were old fireplaces and wagon ruts, with a few discarded canteens and such mingled amongst it. His father, and his merchant caravan, had left for the next town. And he was on his own.
He was only 76, but his father had taught him some basic things to know. The first thing he did was search the place that the caravan had stayed.
There was little to find. A few gold here, a canteen there, a walking stick over there... there was little that would be of use to him aside from the rapier, which he strapped to his belt. It was far oversize, and it scrapped the ground when he walked.
And so he walked down the path cleared by the wagons, to find his father, or at least civilization.
Of course, he hadn't counted on the fact that the tracks would disappear in a matter of days. As soon as they dissipated, he was hopelessly lost. In the middle the woods, he was lost. He had no knowledge of where the caravan would be going next, so he would need to find a settlement before he could go after the caravan.
And then the mercenaries came. It was over a fortnight after he had killed the bear, and he had almost found a way to call on his fire power on command. But he was not ready for the attack that came next.
He was sitting on a stump, sharpening his sword, when he heard a small sound in the woods. He stood, and walked over to where it came from.
The dwarf leapt up from behind the bush, grasping Kywin and gagging him with his glove. Kywin grasped desperatly for his power, but it would not come.
That's when he remembered the sword. He drew the long blade and swung it towards the dwarf. Kywin was no swords master, but it took the dwarf by surprise and caught him in the shoulder. The mercenary yelled and released Kywin, and he ran. Right into an elven mage. But he was still larger then Kywin, and he kneed him in the chest and sent him hurtling backwards.
Nose bleeding and probably a cracked rib or two, he managed to get up and run.
Although he grew more able with his power, he knew that it would not be enough if he were to get attacked again. He would need to learn about his rapier as well. Unfortunately, he was still young, and he could only practice each for a short amount of time. He had little patience to learn what would likely take a very very long time to figure them out.
After a few weeks, Kywin found a small town and decided to stay there, just outside of the borders of the little trading village. He went in for food and such, trading items of little value to merchants. He had inherited a silver tounge from his merchant father, as well. Unfortunately, news reached his ears that his fathers caravan had been attacked, and his father was preparing to move to Pranz to start a new caravan in a new location. With a heavy heart, Kywin decided to stay in the town.
Then one day, his power came out. He did not mean for it to, he had no intention of burning down the tent of the merchant he had been trading with.
But it was enough for the city gaurds to come after him, and tell him that if he could not get his power under control, he would be forced to leave the town and its perimeters.
With a heavy sigh, Kywin left the town after only twenty years, not much in elven terms. He had learned a few things in that time, but he was not practicing regularly or very hard. It would be a long time.
He went from town to town after that, looking for anyone who would help him with his gift. But he also searched for people who would teach him the art of swordsmanship. His old rapier became old and overused, so he had to get a new sword. But the master he was currently studying under claimed to be able to teach him to fight with two swords, and Kywin accepted the extra edge it would give him if he were to be attacked again. That master also taught him the importance of nimbleness and quickness in battle, rather then the clumsy armor so many men wore. Working with masters, Kywin began to develop a quick, dextrous fighting patern, but he was not very skilled in it and he caused much annoyance around his master's homes when he was bored, so he could never practice with the same one for very long. Still, he found many cities to practice in, and almost two dozen years of his life were on the road this way.
But Kywin found the roads a lonely place, with nothing to do. He needed excitment, he was now a 118 year old elf and was very bored with travel. he needed some way to entertain himself while traveled.
And then he remembered the mercenaries. He had been able to get away from them, and he didn't have a clue about swordsmanship then. Now, though... He could stand a chance. If he could develop his skills into more then self defense, and into the kind an adventurer possessed, he would be not only not bored, but possibly respected for his knack for sorcery and swordsmanship. He decided to put his full heart into his studies, and try to stay with one master to learn all of the tricks, since his pattern of flipping from master to master had not taught him much.
And so he set out to find something that would challenge both his Arcane and Sword talents. And, possibly, his father.
