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I lived in a small village of blue scaled dragonborns as soon as i was old enough i trained with my dad to become a hunter and warrior, i wanted to one become a protector of the village one day. We were a very small clan of dragonborns know as the Stormborns, we lived far from most big cities and kept to our selfs most the time. We produced our own food and clothes but when it came to weapons and armour we did need to make trips to the Elven city of Fal Dorei which over time i started to learned the elven language. At the young age of 17 my whole village and family was brutally burnt to death by a group mysterious spellcasters using black flames. To this day i do not know why my people where killed but i somehow i managed to survive that day, left with black burnt scales around my right eye and arm. From that day i have been trying to find the spellcaster who destroyed my life, i have been left with a fear of fire and permanent damages to my body, i have seeked out every mage and cleric in Fal Dorei i can to heal me of this hideous reminders of my past but to no lucky. After the attack i was left injured and alone untill one day an old elven lady named Lura Araqen found me and nursed me back to life, she help me with the language and gave me a home within the city walls of Fal Dorei. It all felt so strange i wasnt use to being in such a busy bustling city. I was grateful to Lura she pasted away 6 years after saving me, for those 6 years i had been honing my fighting skills turning my rage into a strength, once Lura pasted i once again was alone and had no attachment to this City so i began doing bounties saving up my gold and purshased everything i needed to began my journey to find a healer to heal my scars and kill who ever was responsible for all my pain.
