Born in the sprawling city of Alliria to unknown parents, Idrin lived the life of a street urchin until his fifth birthday, when he was captured by the city guard and quickly sold into slavery. The next few years of his childhood was spent serving the arrogant slaver Hakonenn, first as a house servant and then as a pit fighter; scuffling with boys (and girls) both younger and older than him in violent betting fights in the back alleys and criminal dens of the capital city.

When Idrin was nine, however, a routine fight in the pits was observed by a mysterious cloaked stranger. Following the crushing of a teenage Orc's skull with a rock in a rather intense fight, Idrin suddenly found himself not heading back to the cells where he and the other young gladiators lived and instead into Hakonenn's office, where he was unceremoniously handed over to the cloaked stranger in exchange for a large bag of gold. And then the only life that the young fighter had known was gone...Yet a new one was about to begin.

Introducing herself as Caellyn, the cloaked stranger turned out to be an older woman whose features were unnaturally pale. She was something called a 'Blood Hunter', out recruiting new, young fighters for her organization. Caellyn had been impressed at the somewhat small boy's survival instincts against the much larger and stronger Orc boy, and following Idrin's victory she had seen fit to buy him from a life of slavery and give him new purpose, one that did not end with him eventually dying at the behest of a slave master. She would give him a home, with good food and drink, and train him to become a true warrior skilled in combat and not some urchin swinging a rock. All that Caellyn asked in return was loyalty to her, her own masters, and their cause, and he would one day be capable of wonders.

Of course, if he so wanted, Idrin was also free to leave her and make a life for himself. He had cast a long, hard look at the bustling, uncaring city around them. It had been a long time since he had lived on the streets, and he had made enemies being a gladiator. Enemies that would see Idrin dead for making them lose gold or a prized fighter. Idrin was strong and capable but he was still only a child. Without this woman his death was a certainty...Unless he wanted to go back to being a slave for an uncaring master.

The boy accepted her terms, and left his old life behind.

Traveling across the land, Caellyn would recruit several other younglings to their group, all while teaching Idrin the basics of holding a sword, how to swing it as a blade and not just a club. Stances, how to pivot and parry, how to hold a bow. Their trip across the plains, the mountains, crossing the frozen sea to the icy tundra, Caellyn became the mother that Idrin never had. He grew very fond of the older woman and jealously hoarded time with her over the other children whenever possible. The road may have been long and her lessons increasingly harsh, but he craved her praise, her care and her teaching.

That all changed however, when they reached the city of Valkhald on the south-east coast of what Caellyn defined as the ‘Seketh Islands’. Set on a natural inlet at the base of the towering peak of Valkenrath, the gloomy city was lit by channels of hot molten stone that oozed from the rocky earth around it. Idrin had been amazed by the constant snowy weather of Nordengaard, but what fell lightly from the stormy sky above was not snow, but ash.

The city itself was, in comparison to Alliria and Nordengaard, was unimpressive. A mixture of stone and wooden buildings, it spread upward along the foothills of the towering mountain in (mostly) orderly rows, each district separated by a heavy, featureless stone wall. To Idrin, Valkhald’s most impressive feature were the channels of lava that oozed down from the base of the mountain, flowing through the city in place of rivers or water canals. And at the base of Valkenrath Peak was a constant glow of fire. The sounds of industry filled the air as the group entered the city.

The young boy expected to be given a tour of the city before they found rest for the night, but Caellyn wasted little time in shepherding their small group through the crowded docks and into city proper. Idrin had only glimpses of Valkhald’s districts before they were headed upwards towards the towering mountain peak that dominated the landscape, growing ever closer to the constant plume of fire…Which turned out to be a constant small eruption of lava. The source of the burning hot channels that snaked through the city and the fuel for the myriad workshops that had been everywhere on it’s streets. Here the city had tapered off into craggy boulders and smooth obsidian, the only trace of any sort of development was the carved basin that guided the fresh lava into the channels. And, of course, the strange circle of blunt yet ornate arches that circled said basin, all clearly Dwarven and all featuring runic script that seemingly shined in the glow of the volcano.

And then Caellyn ushered them through a hidden crag, and towards their new future. The crag itself led into the mountain itself, a rough-hewn path of stone that led to a maze of caverns and tunnels. If Idrin had been on his own, getting lost and dying in the darkness would have been a certainty, but Caellyn clearly knew where she was going. A darkened tunnel here, a cavern there, several narrow paths along a abyssal crevice and soon the wild of the mountain gave way to a large archway of strange design. Caellyn motioned for the group to continue, and the arches led into a massive cavern that contained, of all things, a city hewn from the rocks themselves! And at the very center, lit by only a thin sliver of light, was a huge rectangular slab of ornately carved rock.

This, Caellyn told the group of wide-eyed children, was the true Valkenrath. And here, their new lives would begin.