You were once a warrior. Feared throughout the seven kingdoms, known for your ferocity and undying determination to protect your people. On the outskirts of Athaindore, in the great plains to the west was where your people lived. Wild men, beasts, barbarians, these are what the seven kingdoms called you, they believed you where a backward nation; never advancing yourself, no invention or thirst for industry. But your people knew better, you were peaceful, calm, you had no need for corruption, your nation as a whole was a family.

Sadly that peace was short lived, as your home was directly above a rare and sacred metal your people protected, which inevitably led the seven kingdoms to squabble over your land, as if it was already theirs. What they didn't know was that although your people were peaceful, your warriors were fierce, and the most ferocious of all was you... their prince.

When the first nation, known as the kingdom of man arrived on the border of your home, they laid waste to your forces with strange inventions they called crossbows. This weapon killed all of your comrades, your brothers, your family, except for you. Armed with only a small axe, and nothing but a hide covering your dignity, you ran straight into their army. No matter how many times you were stabbed, shot, beaten or battered, you just wouldn't stop, the death of your brethren fresh in your mind as you cut down warrior after warrior. And you were only fifth-teen when this first battle took place.