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My story starts in Freeport. My parents, an Woodelven Warrior and a Druid, decided I should see corruption and hate and learn to face it. The human children hated me, and I suffered terrible emotional trauma. My parents decided to send me away. A friend of my mother's took me to Kelethin. I don't know what happened to my parents, but I have been told they died heroes of a Neriak raid. As soon as I reached Kelethin, however, I knew this truly was where I belonged. In Kelethin, I scouted out all the guilds. I looked into the Scouts of Tunare. I viewed The Soldiers of Tunare. I viewed the Emerald Warriors. But what really struck me were the Faydark's Champions. I knew I was destined to be a Ranger. After receiving training and obtaining armor and weapons, I helped to invade Crusbone. Next, I journeyed to Unrest to slay the fell undead a second time. I then moved to Highhold Keep, to help keep the Pickclaw Goblins in check. But something happened there I did not expect. A human I had known as a child, one who had made my life miserable, appeared and slew my lovely travelling companion, my love, my heart. I couldn't stop him. He left me living to spite me. I cried with my soul. I prayed to the gods, begged them to return my love, beseeched them to tell my why they had done this. Tunare would not here my cry. The Mother surely had her reasons. Finally, I received an answer from some strange god, who bore no name other than Zebuxoruk, gave me guidance. He said to follow my inner spirit, to look within for guidance. He said to follow the Wolf. After meditation and searching, I found what he meant. I journeyed to Dawnshroud Peaks, where I now learn from and study the wolves, ever sharpening my skills.