Kelth McEwann was born in the lands of the high north called Khorhaerlia in a place called Glenn Cronûn Anwaellaenar, which translates to Crown of the Sword God ( nearly all inhabitants of Khorhaerlia believed that they were forged by his hand and destined to wield their two handers with masterfull skill in his honor). It was his homeland, where cold winds blew over the rugged countryside. The land consisted of many mountains and beautifull valleys with green grass and herds of cattle walking upon them.
The mountains were home to red dragons mostly, which every now and then rampaged on towns and villages as dragons do in tales of old....
Kelth was raised a warrior in his hamlet. like most of the men in his clan, they all were trained in wielding the two-hander, rather relying on strength and wits than on armorclad combat. As a kid he was allready taken to the arena to do battle with lads around his own age with naught but fists and doing hard work to train his young muscles.
When not training in his younger years, Kelth could be found helping his parents in the fields. Tending to the crops and cattle or practicing on his guitar and his vocal skills at the local tavern called Anwaellaenar's Stead.
In that same tavern it is where Kelth learned to swig mugs of ale and other heavy alcoholic beverages and had his first bar fight.
Kelth always was quite the peacefull lad, humming his tunes and practicing his swordplay, but if crossed....one had a fierce opponent standing in front of him.
Legend spoke of his clan being blessed by one of the dragons centuries ago, making it able for every clansman or woman to call upon ancient dragons rage, making said person very dangerous...even a bit reckless....leaving them dizzy and fatigued after.....not quite sure of what they had done to their opponent as they often gazed to the bloody mess lying on the floor. (Even the clanswomen were able to beat a full grown man to a bloody pulp while in this rage...much to the liking of the clansmen...who adored strong women that fended for themselves if needed)
Years went by and Kelth matured, turning out a quite likeable and rogueish lad, adored by many a woman in his hamlet. Kelth never really sticked to one lass for long and enjoyed female company a lot though he never slept with them.
One woman had a special interest in Kelth. The woman was called Daeneira and was among the ranks of the warriors in his clan. This woman was so strong, she bested nearly all the men and took great pride and joy in that.
One day she was sparring with Kelth and was about to beat him. Kelth, all sweaty and panting just looked up at her and smirked for this woman made his heart gallop and he even was honoured to be beaten by her. When she saw him smirking like the rogue he was, she dropped her sword, walked over and kissed him forcefully...thus making Kelth and Daeneira a couple.
They got married and had their own farm at the hamlet, things were looking bright for young Kelth McEwann and his wife....untill the dark times were coming.....word went about that orcish hordes were sighted...looting, pillaging and doing things that could not be spoken about in the open in local towns and villages....spreading fear and despair all around Khorhaerlia....
The clan chiefs had a meeting, for they would not have the Orcs have their ways without a fight. They united their numbers in one massive kilted army....wielding their two handers with masterfull skill.
The Khorhearlians were determined to drive the foul orcs out of their lands, restoring peace once again.. Kelth found himself marching with Daeneira at his side, both eager to do battle with the orcs...little did they know it would be the end of their life together....as they both looked up to the clouded sky which was pouring down rain on the battlefield.....with on the other side....a massive ironclad army of orcs...eager to taste human blood...
// this is my first attempt at posting a char's story, I will continue this since it's not done yet, there is more to tell
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