The makings of a warrior, Lolyth.

In a small hut deep within the Sylvan Vale lived an elven father and son. The boy, Lolyth had grown up with only his father as his mother died during child birth many years ago. His father Rakish, was in charge of training the young elven warriors and scouts in the ways of combat. Lolyth was too young to participate but watched as his father taught lessons, secretly practicing with weapons he had stockpiled and hidden away. His father always had a wary eye upon Lolyth which made the young elf feel as though he was not trusted, or that perhaps his father did not have enough faith in his son to become a warrior. In order to prove that he was strong and could become the warrior his father wanted him to be Lolyth set out one afternoon unbeknownst to his father. He traveled northward, hiking up paths and mountain peaks until he arrived in a dark and eerie town. He could feel the darkness eminating from the town but was determined to prove his worth to his father. He wandered the streets of the town, noticing it was much abandoned save for warders here and there. Before long he realized the sun had set and darkness now filled the town. He began to hear moans and cries in the shadows, scraping that sounded of chains or perhaps claws upon the ground. He quickened his pace as he saw what looked to be the exit far ahead in the distance. As he hurried along a thick and suffocating fog rolled onto the streets and he saw a dark presence chasing him from behind. He turned and fired an arrow into the darkness which only infuriated it more, increasing its pace as it hunted him. "Lolyth" he heard, the faint sound of his fathers voice barely loud enough to pierce the fog. Again he glimpsed the exit and saw his father charging toward him, a torch in one hand and elven longsword in the other. As came closer Lolyth's father grasped the torch with all his might and threw it toward the shadow the embers burst forth spilling into the air and onto the ground. His father grasped Lolyth by the waist and threw him toward the exit telling him to run toward their village and seek help. As the last embers of the fire died out Lolyth heard the sounds of the shrieking shadow and the bellows of his father as they fought. The last thing Lolyth heard was the clatter of metal upon the ground as he escaped the town and ran toward his village. By the time he was able to gain help and returned to the town morning had come. They found the shredded and blood stained corpse of Lolyth's father who had given his life to hold off the dark creature long enough for his son to escape. His longsword lay at his side broken into three pieces. His body and weapon were gathered and taken to their village where he was buried in the family plot with his wife. Lolyth swore to the people of his village that he would seek out others to learn from and complete his training as a great warrior, and that he would return with this knowledge and slay the beast which ended his fathers life. With this he left and found refuge within the city of Seringale, where he joined the guildhall of warriors.