Ronlyn Drahcir Daero, you grew up in Winterholm, which is in the western reaches of Solamnia. With famine and disease as rampant as it has been since the Cataclysm, the once abundant farmlands of Solamnia had run dry, and in order to provide for you and your family, you were not above visiting larger cities and taking odd jobs for a small bit of Steel to help provide for your family. Your best friend, a squire for the Knighthood named Kraun Crowfeather had repeatedly offered to see if he could get you sponsored, even if your family wasn’t officially associated with the Knights of Solamnia.
“I can get you into the Knighthood, I know I can,” Kraun said. “I can speak to my father, and see if one of the Knights can sponsor you.”
“Fighting in armor has never been my style,” you shrugged, sitting back in the wooden chair that creaked and strained, simply because like everything in your family’s home, it was on the verge of breaking due to decline of money to repair such things, “and especially dying in that heavy armor. Both the armor and the Knighthood would weigh too much of a burden, my good friend.”
Kraun frowned; it was the same argument the two of you shared for almost two years now, but Kraun was persistent. He wanted the best for his closest friend. You and Kraun traveled together around Solamnia for two years; he was the blade and the justice, you were the stealth and the dagger. You got into trouble and he frequently tried to get you out of trouble – further tarnishing the Knighthood when they would see Kraun stand up for you.
When the time came and Kraun was called for the Knighthood, to become a Knight of the Crown officially, the two of you parted ways. His time became dedicated to the missions given to him by the Knighthood, while you seemed to drift from town to town for awhile until you heard that in Palanthas, which was just north of Winterholm, they were recruiting soldiers to fight the infestation of goblins that seemed to be descending from the very mountains that surrounded Palanthas and the neighboring towns.
During your brief training as a soldier, you developed an uncanny ability to scout surrounding areas for enemies and were often sent in with troops to raid, what was suspected to be goblin encampments deep in the caves. You learned quickly that in the darkness, goblins with their innate ability to see in the dark granted them a lethal advantage on their grounds and in the process, many of whom you had served with and created bonds with, perished in some of those raids. You cursed your friend, Kraun Crowfeather, because the honor he had tried to instill in you often came through when dealing with the goblins; you would not allow the soldiers to attack and kill unarmed goblins, or those that surrendered.
The commanders at Palanthas frequently sent you, and others in, which hardened you against the ideals of war for another; and also strengthened the bond with those you served with, because these were the people that were in the same situation as you – and your life depending on them, and their lives depended upon yours. During these raids against the goblins, when you were scouting the darkness of the caverns, camping in fungi filled caves you missed Kraun’s constant pestering. The eerie, nonstop water dripping made you long for his voice to drown out the silence.
When you had earned a fair amount of steel, both from what the city of Palanthas paid you, but also looted from the corpses of the goblins slain by you and your fellow soldiers, you returned home and gave the steel to your family.
You tried to stay, to help on the farms, but you couldn’t. The raids, the battles, the cries of your fellow soldiers, and even those of the goblins, had changed you.
You began to wander the continent of Ansalon, to see if you could find your place in this world drenched in famine and disease…