Sandron is the second son of Ellaos, an elven lord from the deepest, darkest forest of the continent. Sandron was everything but blessed with good fortune, his birth demanded the life of his mother.
When he grew up, his eyes, his mouth, all the facial features became more and more similar to those of his dead mother and he reminded his father everyday of his loss. Thus the relation between father and son was a quite cold one, even for elven standards. Sandron became more and more introverted and while his older brother bristled with confidence lived his life to the fullest, Sandron was everyday a little more disgusted from the rites at the court of the elven lord. He had the feeling noone liked him there and so he was searching for friends in the natural surroundings of the elven village. On every possible opportunity he was slipping out of village to spend some time with dreaming from distant countries and cities.
His musings were recognized by an uncle of him. That one was a practitioner of magic. Ellarion was an old mage, older than Ellaos. Usually he would have become lord of the village, but he was not interested in politics at all, focused on his studies.
Sandron became his apprentice and this changed everything. Suddenly his life made sense. He was really ambitious and so eager to learn. He made major steps forward in his studies and all seemed fine, but as I said, he was not blessed with good fortune.
His mentor Ellarion made preperations for a big summoning and Sandron had to assist him of course. Something terribly went wrong in this summoning and master and apprentice both lost control over the summoned ghost wolf. The wolf's gaze fell on Sandron, but the sacrifice of his master saved his life. Once again the life of a relative was taken instead of Sandron's.
For his father this was the last straw that broke the camel's back. He started to completely ignore his second son and life at the court became unbearable for Sandron. So he decided to leave the elven village cause everything would be better than those shifty eyes and cold hearts.
Three days after the burial of his master he left without goodbye alone the village where he never was really happy. Looking forward for adventures he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and never looked back...
When he grew up, his eyes, his mouth, all the facial features became more and more similar to those of his dead mother and he reminded his father everyday of his loss. Thus the relation between father and son was a quite cold one, even for elven standards. Sandron became more and more introverted and while his older brother bristled with confidence lived his life to the fullest, Sandron was everyday a little more disgusted from the rites at the court of the elven lord. He had the feeling noone liked him there and so he was searching for friends in the natural surroundings of the elven village. On every possible opportunity he was slipping out of village to spend some time with dreaming from distant countries and cities.
His musings were recognized by an uncle of him. That one was a practitioner of magic. Ellarion was an old mage, older than Ellaos. Usually he would have become lord of the village, but he was not interested in politics at all, focused on his studies.
Sandron became his apprentice and this changed everything. Suddenly his life made sense. He was really ambitious and so eager to learn. He made major steps forward in his studies and all seemed fine, but as I said, he was not blessed with good fortune.
His mentor Ellarion made preperations for a big summoning and Sandron had to assist him of course. Something terribly went wrong in this summoning and master and apprentice both lost control over the summoned ghost wolf. The wolf's gaze fell on Sandron, but the sacrifice of his master saved his life. Once again the life of a relative was taken instead of Sandron's.
For his father this was the last straw that broke the camel's back. He started to completely ignore his second son and life at the court became unbearable for Sandron. So he decided to leave the elven village cause everything would be better than those shifty eyes and cold hearts.
Three days after the burial of his master he left without goodbye alone the village where he never was really happy. Looking forward for adventures he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and never looked back...