I am not certain where to begin. My origins have always been known to me, though my entire family hasn’t. See, twenty-two years ago this summer, I was born to two unlikely parents. My father was a mage scholar who specialized in inter-racial cultures and how they interacted among themselves as well as with other races. I believe that is how he met my mother, in his earlier studies among elves. She was a half-elf healer with a close association with the woods, which she inherited from her elven father.

Their union was at first a happy one, but as time carried on, my father became more and more obsessed with studying orcs, to my mother’s chagrin. He managed to convince a tribe of orcs and goblins to allow us to live among them. He healed them, my mother helped to supply their food, and so we earned the patronage if not the friendship of the orcs. The goblins, being of reasonably lesser intellect than the orcs, were convinced that we were simply funny-looking orcs with pink skin.

My mother withstood all of this for about five years, and then she found she could not tolerate this way of life any longer. She left my father and I when I was only eight years of age. Consequently, my father was the only human I knew for most of my young life. I am still bitter about this, for it is from my mother that I learned the art of survival. She introduced me to her beliefs and passed on to me her affinity for both flora and fauna, and I grew to love her dearly... and then she left. We shared so much on a spiritual level, even at that young age I had grown to trust her and her unspoken promises implicitly, fully believing that she would always be there to teach with me, to share with me. But she left me... I don’t remember the exact circumstances of her leaving, but in my mind, there is no excuse. And she made no effort since to contact me... I’m sorry, on to more pleasant topics.

My father and I were very close, and he is to date my ideal role model. He taught me how to speak the human tongue, as well as how to read and use a bow. The arts of healing and diplomacy were more difficult subjects to learn, but with his knowledge and experience, I learned quickly by watching him. Together, we observed the orcs and goblins, noting how they worked together and how they differed from human society. It was truly fascinating! I learned basic elements on how to fight by observing the orcs, though I have never been proficient in it. But enough to get by, enough to survive. I was mocked a bit by the goblin young, because I had pink skin, and so my playmates were few. I often took refuge in the forest where I found a close kindred with all the life I found there, so I wasn’t entirely alone... I just had no one you could call “peers”.

And here is where my story becomes tragic once again. When I was 15, my father died. It was quite unexpected, and not the most valiant way to die... he fell into a squig pit and was eaten. (Squigs, mind you, are ferocious, unintelligent creatures that the tribe uses for multiple tasks. They make suitable steeds and work animals, as well as food.) Needless to say, this dismayed me greatly. Abandonment by both parents, intentional or not, does NOT make for a happy childhood. Plus the fact that for all my healing powers, I still was unable to revive him.

This event triggered my retreat into the woods for a few days. I felt so ashamed at my inability to heal him, I didn’t know where to turn, so I took my refuge there. I remained there for several days, eating nothing for fear of unduly eliminating life. After days of fasting, I became somewhat delirious and started receiving... visions. I don’t know what else to call them. Most of them consisted of a figure surrounded by light and greenery, or perhaps I was merely looking upwards and this was the forest canopy... to this day I am not sure. It encouraged me to eat again, teaching me how to partake properly of the surrounding life, with gratitude and reverence. Up to that point, I had never felt such a profound connection to the forest, and it has since only grown, allowing me ultimately to have the healing capabilities I so arduously strove to develop. After two weeks of this communion, I decided to return to the tribe, make my final peace with my father, and move on in my life.

For the next few years I thrived in the orc tribe. They continued to tolerate me, having grown used to my presence over the years. I aided them whenever they needed. I helped create one of their bizarre war machines, hunted for them, healed them when necessary, and in return they didn’t kill me.

When I was 19, I met my first human friend. It turns out the orcs’ present warchief took a new concubine into his bed, and she was human. (This was considered mightily distasteful by the other tribe members, but if any of them spoke rudely to the warchief, he just killed them or worse yet, made them tend the squigs with the goblins.) Her name was Syndrivka--Ka for short--and despite her garish bad taste in brightly coloured clothing, she became a good friend. We were each other's only human contact for several months, and we grew quite close. She acquainted me with her tales of the “outside world,” I helped her deal with the orcs. I was startled by how well we got along, and how easily we became acquainted. After dealing with orcs and goblins my entire life, it was quite refreshing to converse with someone without the constant reminder of authority. We were equals, though dissimilar in our ways and backgrounds.

I was nearly 20 years of age when the tribe came to the Realms proper. I found myself meeting races of all sorts, the predominant one being human. This was, of course, all very shocking, both pleasantly and with difficulty at times as I learned to adjust. I had a pretty good idea of how to behave from my father’s teachings, and the books he had left. I acted as the orcs’ defender more than once, when their culture than that of the “pinkies” clashed.

At first I stayed mostly in the woods, preferring the company of the trees and animals to anyone else. I lived off what I found in the woods, and what else I needed I received from friends in small villages where I provided healing services. It became lonely for me, and I am fortunate to have stumbled onto a trio of adventurers only a short time ago. They were passing through my forest home in midwinter on their way to a feast. They were embarrassed to admit they were somewhat lost, and I helped them find their way. I opted to travel with them, and we soon became friends. They are: Ender Khye, a sorcerer of mighty caliber; Thaerin Swordsong, a young man adept at both song and fighting, as his surname implies; and Verum, a young woman who shares my love for nature, and is a good archer as well. I have been traveling with them for about a year now.

Returning to human civilization again brought me endless amounts of surprising encounters. I have made many new friends including a young squire who has quite caught my eye... squire Elwick Dragonsburrow of the Barony of Banecroft. I blush as I write this, for such courtly emotions are still very new to me. Anyhow, he introduced me to Baron Diamond of Banecroft, who recently accept me into his Borderguard. I have determined not to fully join the Barony, which troubles my poor Elwick, but he will simply have to accept my independence. I now spend my time roaming the woods of Bancoft, watching for poachers, or anything else that seems out of order. And, of course, I spend a lot of my time in the area of Nadia lake, near my Elwick.

I was concerned that the people of the Realms might remember me, and associate me with the orcs. I confess I am rather embarrassed of my upbringing. True, I gained a certain empathy for those of the green skin, but now I understand what I’ve been missing. There is more to life than war and foul humor. I am happy now with my new comrades; excluding occasionally necessary retreats into the forest, I remain with them, and travel, and learn.