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Valr Verelius
Male • 44 years old, Voltai Mountains, United States
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[font f="comic sans ms,sans-serif" s="3" c=""][b][i]A child born is a joyous thing but born to uncaring parents, his life costing what they
held most dear, coin, he was left alone grudgingly raised. The life of the boy it
seemed, cursed by Odin. When the raiders came from the North his existence
should have been erased, it wasn't, the life of the woman who gave him birth was
taken in the cowardly moment of his father's desertion.
For 17 seasons the male child grew, the thoughts of the man who chose coin over
his life burning in his mind. A chance meeting of the young man with one
of the black caste gave the first glimmer of possibility of a calling to the
young man. Erasing his past he gave the name given at birth to the winds and chose
one fitting the path he now stood upon, Valr...Death.   It is said the
training of the assassin is thorough and cruel. He who wears the
black of the caste has not won it easily. This was true for the young
man, nothing had been easy thus far in his life. The trainer pushed him to
learn the caste well and heed its teachings. The dawning of the final test
arrived, killing the partner, thoughts may have been in his mind wondering if in
fact the trainer had taught all he knew, those were pushed aside and the task
began...Hildr fought valiantly and in the end gave his life. Valr nodded once to his
trainer and left...his wandering began as he plied his trade.   In the Voltai
Ranges the trainer, who had searched for Valr since his leaving
the caste den, came upon Valr. He was intent on killing the young
assassin for what he saw as his desertion of the caste, again a fight for life
ensued. The trainer paid the ultimate price that day but not before giving Valr a
remembrance, the cut upon his left cheek, the scar still seen today
always reminding Valr of his teaching.
[/i][/b][/font]
held most dear, coin, he was left alone grudgingly raised. The life of the boy it
seemed, cursed by Odin. When the raiders came from the North his existence
should have been erased, it wasn't, the life of the woman who gave him birth was
taken in the cowardly moment of his father's desertion.
For 17 seasons the male child grew, the thoughts of the man who chose coin over
his life burning in his mind. A chance meeting of the young man with one
of the black caste gave the first glimmer of possibility of a calling to the
young man. Erasing his past he gave the name given at birth to the winds and chose
one fitting the path he now stood upon, Valr...Death.   It is said the
training of the assassin is thorough and cruel. He who wears the
black of the caste has not won it easily. This was true for the young
man, nothing had been easy thus far in his life. The trainer pushed him to
learn the caste well and heed its teachings. The dawning of the final test
arrived, killing the partner, thoughts may have been in his mind wondering if in
fact the trainer had taught all he knew, those were pushed aside and the task
began...Hildr fought valiantly and in the end gave his life. Valr nodded once to his
trainer and left...his wandering began as he plied his trade.   In the Voltai
Ranges the trainer, who had searched for Valr since his leaving
the caste den, came upon Valr. He was intent on killing the young
assassin for what he saw as his desertion of the caste, again a fight for life
ensued. The trainer paid the ultimate price that day but not before giving Valr a
remembrance, the cut upon his left cheek, the scar still seen today
always reminding Valr of his teaching.
[/i][/b][/font]
