Fate of Alterra
The Story of Dathyra
When I was was growing up, I can remember seeing our clans construct beautiful weapons and armor; this inspired me to learn the tools of the trade. When I had turned 15, I had already learned the ways of smithing of our species; I had heard, however, of the exquisite ways of the Dwarves. I knew at that point that I wanted to learn all that I could.
I traveled to the Dwarven stronghold of Dakmanaer; once there I began to seek out a Dwarven master smith that I had heard tales of back home. After asking around, I was directed to the peak of the mountain fortress,, and apprenticed to Orik Ingvare. After seeing my skill with the hammer and anvil, he happily accepted me as an apprentice. The one condition was that I was to never reveal the secrets he would teach me, not even my own clan. After deliberating for sometime, I decided to happily take the oath and we began our work. I was a quick study, due to my already knowing many of the basics, and I advanced very quickly. Five years pass between my apprenticeship and my learning all he could teach me.
Using the knowledge that I had learned from Orik, and my own skill with Durum, I forged myself a truly unique suit of armor, as well as a sword that was truly unique to me. I used these new tools of my trade to begin my quest of protecting those less powerful than myself. Beginning as a hired guard for trade convoys, I traveled all over Alterra. I began seeing death in all sorts of ways; in some ways I was never able to fully protect those closest to me. The other guards in my caravans never seemed to care much for the people they were protecting, always dropping their weapons and fleeing at the first sign of trouble.
After several years of this work, I began to hear tales of a knighthood that served to protect those weaker than them from evil and harm. They claimed to have existed from before the Exodus, and follow a strict code of honor. I began searching for them feverishly, paying for information and following any rumor that I could get my hands on.
After much searching I finally came across a Knight single-handedly defending a village from a group of raiders. I didn't hesitate, I let loose a roar and charged the bandits, rallying the villagers and the knight to my side. As I closed on the village, I saw what I was running into: the knight had a small force with him, and they had already dispatched many raiders themselves.
A brief respite was all we had to acknowledge each other; the bandits had regrouped and returned with a force of forty or more. He welcomed the help and we waded once more into the fray. After two hours of solid fighting, we managed to route the raiders and they fled. He thanked me for my help and told me that he was surprised I would rush in like that. I told him of my time with the Dwarves, and as a caravan guard, and how I have always wanted to protect those weaker than myself.
I then joined him and his band for the next year, traveling throughout the world protecting who we could. As the spring of the next year arrived, he presented me with an offer: join the Order of the Purple Dragon and become a knight. I was ecstatic to receive the offer, and immediately agreed.
I trained for the next year, learning to work as a unit, and how to rely on your shield brothers.
After another year of training I began my journey home to Vitri Lamell. Upon my return I found that I had a little brother of 20 years. He wasn't the brightest candle, but he was an absolute natural with the blade. I began to lament the fact that I had not known him when was a broodling. From the day we met, however, it was as if we had known each other for our whole lives. He understood my motives (even if he didnt understand the work motive).
I began to train him on more specific ways to use the blade instead of just swinging in a blind rage. We began to fight north of the border to reclaim our land from the orcs, eventually drawing the eye of the Noble Houses of the city, and being granted a small estate.