[h3]10 years ago.[/h3]

“So you are leaving.” Brands voice was steady and unwavering, even when he asked his oldest son where he was going. Hara kept putting his stuff together, packing in earnest. “I have to. I am not well father. I need to seek out my past, in order to put it to rest.”  He sighed. “Tell the others I’ll be back periodicly. They should all be old enough to handle it.” He almost collapses into sobs and heaving. But that would not do for the oldest son. Instead his fingers, blackened and forever miss colored by the cruelty of his own mother, gripped the table so hard he felt splinters around his fingers. His Fathers hand gripped his shoulder suddenly, not hard, but firm enough to steady him. There was no more words exchanged, a silent agreement hung in the air. He would leave, but he would come back. Maybe he’d return tomorrow or maybe in ten years. Hara left in the morning on a caravan north.

[h3]One day prior.[/h3]

He had known the kings madness would one day embroil his father. He had travelled far and wide, and met both royalty and poor. And he had seen what men with power and money could do and he had seen first hand what desperation looked like. He stared at the former at that moment. His black blade glistened with the blood of a hedgeknight who had taken offence that a dirty half-drow drank at the same establishment as him. That violent and unhinged part of him had snapped at the chance. Without taking his eyes off his drink he had spoken up loud enough for the lordling to hear him.

“Would Sir wish to take his blade to me?” As he spoke a sinister smile crept across his lips at the thought of his own death. “Surely, you a trained knight could dispatch sucha foolish cretin as me without breaking a sweat.” He had hardly had the time to set the trap before the beligrent rich man had lept upon the chance. And now, only ten minutes later there he was, a dead man at his feet.

“You all saw this was a legitimate duel! I offered to make it only a first blood one!” He yelled out to the shocked onlookers. The lords retinue looked ready to attack him, to kill him on the spot. They had spears and swords. He could take them, they were just muscle. This “Lord” had only been a wealthy landowner. But none had made a move. He had lived his life by the sword, trying to find meaning in the thrill and pursuit of mastery. Trying to shape his dark and undeniable heritage into a thing he could control. But at the end of each duel, he had stared at the blades in his hand as ever darker clouds of doubt and self-loathing hung about his person. It was just as one of these duels had ended that the raven reached him. When one of his sisters raven had found him it had startled him. It carried with it a simple message. “Father.”

[h3]Present Day.[/h3]

People all but tossed themselves out of the way as hooves thundered down the road. The ravenblack steed galloped as fast as its rider could drive it to.  Don’t you fucking dare be dead. The errant thoughts belonged to Hara, a handsome if grim looking man who was currently making his way towards a place he had not seen in years: His home. He had ridden like this for the entire day now. Ever since a raven had arrived with the word of a brewing conflict that involved his father. He cursed everything. He could not lose his family, could not allow his father to be dead. Yet there was a hollowness to him he had not felt since his day as a sacrifice in the making. 

When he heard the clamor of battle, he spurred on his horse faster. He rode like the wins of a unyielding storm. He was not sure who was fighting, but if he found kingsmen he would kill them all himself if he had to. His sabre slid out without a sound from his scabbard, the black steels glimmer was all the warning his enemies got.  He rode into the confused and onset knights like fury personified.

“WHO?” One knight drew his blade but Hara had already unfastened and readied his crossbow. The bolt effortlessly punched through the helm of the Knight and put him down for good. The knights body slumping backwards off the horse and onto the blood slick road with a clatter of metal. His attention was drawn by one of the men-at-arms who was still on horseback. He was hurriedly trying to notch a bolt on his crossbow while eyeing someone Hara knew. Haras eyes widened at the sight of him. Last he had seen him, he had been but 10 years of age. Yet they had only one other half-blood among their kin. “Gray!” He yelled out as drove his dagger into the man-at-arms armpit and drove them both of the horses on to the ground, Fury overtook him as he lifted the dagger and drove it down again and again, blood flowing like the wine from a broken keg. 

Around him more arrows found their targets. These overgrown, overconfident bullies had relied on their shiny armor and numbers so long they had forgotten about the basics. A Ranger never leaves his woods, not even if he is dead. He pulled gray up from the now dead man, noting the broken face those fists had left. He pushed his crossbow into the younger man’s hands along with a handful of bolts. “You’re wounded. Cover me. Oh and it is nice to see you Gray. You have grown into quite the man.”

He then launched himself back into the fray. Saber and Dagger gleaming as he set to avenge their father. “Blood cries for blood! Cut them down to the last man my brothers and sisters!” He parried one of the remaining knight’s sword as it came crushing in clumsy overhead swing and kicked the man away. Stalking him like a panther stalking its prey, the half-drow moved with deadly grace and confidence. The knight swung and he danced away, just of reach. The knight drew on the attack, swing his sword from his hips in attempt to cleave the seasoned duelist with to much for for him to parry. Hara barely blocked it but it threw him off his feet and sent rolling to the left away from the swing only to be met with a kick to the gun. He grunted and deflected another downward swing, driving his shoulder into the knight and catching him off guard. As the knight stumbled once Hara used the sable to keep his opponent on the retreat before moving in with a cats grace and shoving his dagger in between the front and back plate. The blade shoved deep in between two ribs as he stepped in close so they stared face to face. “I will kill your king myself, Knight”

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