The Arduous High Road.

[Iron_Storm]

Traveling to the Sundren border was a treacherous one: from having been attacked by brigands not far from the Gate of the Sunderer, to the time on the roads and trails all the way from Waterdeep. Eli spent his time with the merchant caravan helping on the night-watch and general guard duties, earning his way to the fabled lands of the Sundren Valley. Memories accompanied him on his journey, dreams of what lies ahead, of what Fate has in store for him. Fate or Luck, didn't truly matter to Eli as he was determined to make his own mark and master his own luck.

Fate came upon him in the dead of night although, all set to make the last stretch to the Gate before dawn. Eli was on the night-watch and was making his patrol of the circled wagon encampment with his shortbow in hand. Out of seemingly nowhere, a brute of a brigand with an axe charged at Eli. He turned to face the brigand, without enough time to even raise the alarm, and all he could do was dodge the attack. Though with a crack of his bow against the axeman's side in a parried response, it threw the brute off some. All the while, the encampment was under attack from all sides.

A few caravans were set ablaze, the flames lighting up the darkness. The silhouette of his opponent was at him again favoring the high but slow attack. Eli dodge the blade fairly with ease, cracking him on the back of the head with his bow. Of course, it splintered into two though it did phase the brute enough and managed to grapple the brute in order to get a few knees in at the brigand's side. His opponent easily broke free with a loud growl however and pushed Eli back, cracking him in the face with the axe. Which made him fall backwards unconscious, and the brute readied with a downward cleave to finish off the squirrelly little man before him.

As Fate would have it, it seemed the Lady truly smiled on Eli that night as the brigand was taken down by an arrow just before he swung the axe. Right through the neck and the brute dropped his axe and fell to the ground right on top of Eli.

Eli would awaken in the infirmary of the Legion Chapterhouse. He was told of what happened to his caravan, only a few would have survived the night. Some in a far worse condition than himself; he prayed for good fortune and mercy for those who still were trying to cling to life. After being apprised of what happened, he would be enlisted to investigate terrorizing acts within the City, rumors of a local gang to be orchestrating them.

"I need your name and where you hail from, before you can leave." The Legionnaire at the infirmary door exclaimed.

"Name's Eli Dentyn, and I'm from Waterdeep..."

[Iron_Storm]

"..I'm from Waterdeep..."

Eli knew that was a bold face lie. He knew the truth, and though he wasn't absolutely proud of what he has had to do to survive. He knew in his heart that he had done it for the good of his family and to survive during the dark ages of his life.

Born to a former pirate of a father and a commoner barmaid of a mother, he grew up for the most part on the streets of Luskan. His father drilled into him from as far back as he could remember, "Ya have to take what ya deserve son, earn it whether through bloodshed or stepping on the backs of yer kinsmen.. Depend on -no one- but yourself!"

His father, Bran Dentyn, was a stern hard ass of a man, disciplining him for whatever reason he deemed fitting as Eli was always find trouble. He would get caught stealing food and coin, as well as getting into fights. Eli would be punished for not getting way with his loot or for not fighting hard enough. His father was too old to serve on the ships and his mother barely scrapped by working long nights at the Cutlass, forcing Eli to pick up the slack from an early age.

His mother, Mara Helder, was a strong, yet kind and good hearted, young woman and knew what she had to do to survive. She always taught her son, somewhat contrary to his father's wishes, to never steal or kill for just the sake of doing it or for power, but rather to do it to survive and for his family. She would never step up against Bran openly but sometimes she too, would receive the same kind of discipline that Eli had grown accustomed to. She always wished for a different life, but never saw a way to make a change.

Bran would teach Eli the way of the rapier, in hopes that his son would one day become a pirate like he was in his youth. He taught him the ways of the sailor, and enlisted Eli into the service of the docks when he was at the age of twelve. Eli grew up with the brashness and harshness of working under the pirates of Luskan, although he earned a thick skin and kept grueling on with his own dreams of showing them all that he had what it took to be a sailor and even a captain of his very own ship.

Eli would grow accustomed to the Luskan way of life, never forgetting the lessons he learned from his father and during his time working at the docks. His life and world be turned upside down during the autumn of 1376. Eli was almost at the age of seventeen, when he would see sails closing in on the docks of Luskan. He ran once the defenses failed and the city was torn asunder, mercenaries storming the streets and killing any would-be defender. The infamous Host Tower was burned down and destroyed, when the majority of the populace would turn against the Arcane Botherhood and the reputable Captain Deudermont rose to the position of the Governor of Luskan.

Eli's father wasn't one of utmost supporters of the change to come to Luskan, like a fierce storm from the Bitch Queen herself. However he would support it nonetheless, as he never agreed with most of the High Captains' decrees, and always had his own suspicions and hatred for the arcane arts and the rumors of the true rulers of Luskan. Life in the City of Sails didn't grow accustomed to the change under its new governor for long.

Thus that was beginning of the end for Eli's life in Luskan, it would become effectively blockaded from both sea and land. Food and supplies ran short and Eli's father was killed during one of the street brawls, trying to secure food rations and supplies for the winter already upon them. It wasn't long after Bran's death, that the Street Wars started and once again Luskan was in utter chaos. Many were killed during the turmoil, but Eli and his mother were fortunate enough to be able to survive. Eli defended his mother after their home was ransacked and they were able to escape. Not long after, rumors had spread across the City of Sails that Governor Deudermont was dead, his body found aboard the famed Sea Sprite.

Eli and his mother would make their way with the rest of the survivors of the turmoil and chaos that were fleeing from Luskan. Mara convinced Eli that they had to go further than Neverwinter, and make their way to Waterdeep and start anew.

Accustomed to the sort of downtrodden life, they both would soon carve out a decent livelihood on the streets of the City of Splendors. Eli managed to find a decent living on the docks and his mother was once again, working at a local tavern at the docks. Some time after that, Eli would make his way aboard a deep sea fishing vessel as a deckhand by the age of twenty-two. He wasn't feeling the most accomplished but he saw it as a means to support himself and his mother, earning a living.

His heart yearned for more, and would soon leave the life as a deckhand behind him after a year and a half. He found a job with a caravan as a sentry and merchant bodyguard, spending weeks if not months on the road but making more of a living out on the road than out on the blue horizon. Travelling along the Sword Coast from Neverwinter down to Baldur's Gate, he came to see many things and sharpen his skills. When he had saved up enough coin, he planned to split his life earnings with his mother and keep the rest so he could acquire his own ship. Just needed to finish one last job with the caravan. The job would take him the farthest he would have ever gone, north to the famous and fabled country of Sundren.

He left the better part of his earnings with his mother, and shortly there after he was out on the road again. Never forgetting where he came from.