Life as a Yoon was tense at all times. Vurdijak's father, Elizoren, was a devout follower of Sathonys, his mother Hoya was a follower of Evren. Gwen only knows what love kept them together in the face of so many trials. The family was nomadic, moving across the artic plain and the tundra to follow reindeer or herds of musk ox. Food was often scarce and the family struggled until the boys were old enough to hunt on their own.

It was almost a forgone conclusion that the sons would live with the tribe in the tundra, with one of them taking over Elizoren's leadership responsibilities. Both parents had much wisdom to share, and one night around the campfire his mother related a story she had learned when she was a child....

A folktale

One summer day, the two blessed sisters Evren and Gwen disguised themselves as owls and blended into the wildlife in the woodlands of ElvanDar. The animals, when they began to be aware of the presence of the goddesses, started to gather. Sturdy boars, noble falcons, and even timid hares formed up around them and filled the air with noise. The goddesses, pleased with this mass of life, decided to entertain them by having a contest between the two of them. "Evren and I have decided to compete with each other to see who can gather the most exotic and delicious roots. After we are through, you will all feast on them as a reward for your faithfulness to us. Then you will decide which of us you love more," Gwen proclaimed. The animals cheered loudly. Lurking in the treetops, disguised as a black crow, was their evil sister Lillith. While they gathered away, Lillith snuck around finding poisonous roots that she knew the animals would not identify. The busy sisters foraged for a whole day, and at the end made two piles of food. Lillith, who hated Gwen more than was humanly possible, managed to sneak the poisonous herbs into her pile. Only a black snake named Weldon noticed the crow do this, but he only thought the crow favored Gwen, and was helping her pile. Shortly thereafter, Evren and Gwen told the animals to dig in and enjoy. The animals that ate from Evren's pile were fine, but the ones that ate from Gwen's pile soon began thrashing around on the ground and going still. Soon there piles of corpses alongside the piles of food. The remaining animals, afraid and confused, started accusing Gwen of murder. Evren, faced with the cold reality of the situation, and upset that her animals were dead, looked to her sister angrily. "Why would you do this?!" she screamed. "You are supposed to spread love and order, not death and chaos!" Upset and defensive Gwen replied, "Well you are the one who gave them the will to choose between the two piles in the first place! I could just as easily blame you, because I didn't give them any poison." Sensing the gravity of the situation, Weldon the snake slithered forward. "Excussse me, godesssesss, but the black crow isss to blame," he hissed. "I ssssaw it drop something into Gwensss pile." The sisters looked at each other and then at the ground. They suspected that they knew who was to blame but they also realized they had no evidence to corroborate their story. In the end, they apologized to the animals and made the next seven winters much less harsh and easier to endure, so that their populations would rebound. They also decided that they would never compete again, lest their devious sister find some way to exploit their kindness and turn it into another catastrophe.

Hoya concluded by asking all three boys to consider the moral of the story. Hoyen responded defiantly, Vurdijak seemed to agree with most of it, and Drahitt stared blankly into the cold night sky, following stars as they passed overhead. Drahitt never said much. Elizoren took his turn and related a story that had come down from his parents who had lived in the great human city to the south, ArboRea....

The story of Delonia and Farinthul the Elder A restless young elf, from a long line of highelves, escaped his chores one day and slipped out to the forest. He traveled west and was soon lost in the foothills of the mountains. The night, he was sure, would turn out to be clear and beautiful. He decided to risk the dangers of the unknown countryside and sleep under the stars. The last light of the sun fell softly behind the mountains. Shadows of tree trunks extended to the horizon. The elf, whose name was Farinthul, leaned his back against one of these trees and reflected on his lot in life. Deep in meditation, he failed to notice the sounds of heavy breathing and snapping twigs that grew louder and nearer. Just down the path, an old woman hobbled along, limping because of a horrible injury that a wild boar had inflicted on her leg. She stumbled and fell into the dark, all her energy spent, and called weakly for help. Farinthul jumped at the unexpected sound of her rough voice. He quickly hid himself and began sneaking through the trees toward her. Soon he was looking at her withered body, motionless on the ground. He had heard of this new strange people that had landed on the shores, not long ago. He had heard of their foul deeds and hatred for elves. He dared not trust this creature, helpless or not. Where there was one, surely there were more. As he started to slink away, the woman suddenly raised her head and look directly at him through squinted yellow eyes. “Would you let me die, alone in the wild?” she said quietly. “Would you leave me for the animals to eat?” “I do not know your kind, but I have heard you are enemies of the elves.” he replied, somewhat haughtily. The woman looked at him. She said through gritted teeth, “I am no enemy of yours. Come, help me to the stream next to here so I can clean this wound. I will reward you for your kindness, if I live. My name is Delonia, and I was one of the first humans to arrive on this continent.” Farinthul helped her to the water, and even gathered a few Middleleaves from the mountainside to help her heal. They sat there in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, until Delonia finally spoke up. “I told you I would reward you if I lived, and I will. I already feel the power of this herb. I was born with a special gift, the ability to see the location of others. It is how I knew you were near. Would you like me to find someone for you?” “No, I would not make use of such strange magic,” he replied. “Then, what could an old woman like me do to reward one of your kind?” “Nothing, I am among the richest and most powerful of my people. I would ask nothing in return for this small favor, save one thing.” Delonia leaned forward to hear him better. “I would ask you to tell your human friends to stop chopping down all of the trees, since we need some for our own cities,” he stated. “It is bad enough we have to live next to you, but if you continue to hack away, there will be none left. Oh yes, and please ask them to stop hunting all the animals. They are senseless in their slaughter. Ah, and one last thing. please ask them to stop breeding so much, as they are starting to outgrow ArboRea.” “This is a long list of grievances, but I will take them all to my people, because I have given you my word,” replied Delonia. “I will help you back to the road,” said Farinthul, and he supported her with one arm and led her away. Delonia was met on the road by some woodcutters, out to gather wood for the expansion of ArboRea. The led her to the safety of their city. Once there, she began talking to her leaders about Farinthul’s generosity in saving her, and his concerns about the newcomers to the continent. Of course, they scoffed at her and even insulted her for taking the help of an elf. She tried her hardest, remembering the kindness of the haughty elf who had saved her, but she could not convince her people to change or prevent the horrible race war that started soon after. The more she tried, the more she was shunned, and eventually she was banished from the city for being a spy. She went into the wild, and used her special gift of sight to make money when she could, from information seeking travelers. It’s rumored that her descendents still live in the area, and that one or two might have inherited her strange gift.

And as Elizoren concluded he indicated that the Arboreans had been right to distrust the elves, and that the moral of the story was to never accept the help of the elves unless you want to be cursed.

But the love of the family was horribly corrupted one night. For some reason unknown, Elizoren rose from a deep prayer meditation and walked calmly from his tent over to Hoya who was tanning a leather. He then lifted his spear and struck her down with a mightly blow. Hoyen, the oldest, with the help of Vurdijak, managed to kill Elizoren as he started to turn on the rest of his family. The look on his face as he died indicated that he never knew what he had done. His eyes stared blankly as he bled out, and a great black mist rose from his body and engulfed all the sons. As the mist the subsided, the sons were left choking and disoriented. They were left to fend for themselves.

• Hoyen Yoon

Few remember Hoyen the Lost, but then he is of course lost. He was the eldest of the Yoon family. After helping his brother Vurdijak to kill his father, Elizoren, he decided to leave his tribe and the tundra forever. He ventured down to ElvanDar and eventually to ArboRea, where he equiped himself with armour, a sword, and spears. He learned to fight fairly well, made some friends, and wanted to be a ranger. His dreams were shattered when a wandering undead ended his life in the Jamantys forest. While in his ethereal state, he quickly sensed that he was cursed by his dead father. He managed to get resurrected, but his body was only a loose fit, and his mind was no longer cohesive. He styled himself as Hoyen the Lost and joined with the Sathos immediately in an attempt to placate his father's soul. He learned the ways of battle alongside Galmor and was trained well by JezZ. He became stronger and more confident, but soon after becoming a priest he was hunted down by two dwarven Crusaders in the goblin encampment on the Amward Plains. This second death was too much for his cursed soul to take, and Hoyen the Lost lost his mind for good. He wandered over to the crossing in a daze, and sacrificed himself to be forever with Sathonys and at his father's side. But his actions were not enough to placate Elizoren's powerful soul and the curse lingered on.

• Vurdijak Yoon

Vurdijak was born with some physical deformities and lived in the shadow of his siblings. Vurdijak, seeing the turmoil created by the clash of religions in his parents, vowed to ignore all matters of religion. This worked well enough, until Asral called on him to serve in a feverish dream one night. From that point on, he focused on perfecting his ability to fight. When Vurdijak heard of Hoyen's suicide, he realized that the brothers had been cursed that night. Their souls were fickle, easily tainted. He felt this black strangeness close to his heart. Drahitt wandered off one day and never came back. After an exhaustive search, the tribe concluded that he must have been taken by the blizzard.

Vurdijak was left with his father's spear, a deep understanding of the wilderness, a head full of bad memories, and maybe even a thin soul. He ventured south to escape his past. He met some rangers who were part of a brotherhood that helped to alleviate his tough losses and joined their ranks. He rose quickly to the status of packmaster among them and remained there for some time until more capable leadership came along. His favorite pastime is learning to fight with new types of weapons. His finger was bitten off once long ago, but he prefers not to talk about it. Besides, a cleric of Asral did him a favour and grew him a new one. In his many adventures with the rangers, Vurdijak died very rarely. He was extra cautious, because he felt an unnerving presence with each death. In his last days with the rangers, he died once more, this time to a hill giant. Upon this death, he saw an image of an old man. The man beckoned him away from his body...and he knew that his father Elizoren was looming close to steal it. He knew at once he was dangerous to the rangers...their secrets...his friends...it would all fall apart if Elizoren took over and infiltrated their fort. He told all he was leaving for the tundra to be with his tribe and guard them from invading orcs. The truth was much more tragic...he was leaving to live a life of solitude. On his way north, he happened on his tribe. His clansmen saw the look in eyes, they remembered the horror of that night long ago. They did not press him for answers. He passed into the gentle snow like a ghost.

• Drahitt Yoon

The one moon visible at the time hung low on the horizon, and the stars above were in strange alignment. It was a day of Spirituality, when the youngest baby was born. His parents, natives of the tundra in the far north, named him Drahitt. In their tribal tongue this is the word for sacrifice.

The youngest of three brothers, he is stranger and more withdrawn than the other two. He was always the strongest, a born fighter. His saga begins in the tundra, after he wandered away from his broken family...

The arctic blasts ripped through his tattered furs and into his skin. No one could survive this for long, and he was no exception. He was about to submit, kneeling on the frozen ground, when an image appeared before him. Something was suddenly in his hand, and he found himself eating it.

A warmth washed over his body, and gave him enough strength to get up and continue on. As fate would have it, he came upon a musk ox, weak from starvation. He managed to bring it down with a sharp rock. He then slit it open and crawled inside, curled up, and fell deeply asleep. While inside, he opened his eyes and looked into the red innards. Within these guts he experienced a vision of a great battle between three armies that was fought in a red world. One of the armies was pinned against a fortified city wall. A fearsome army of insects slaughtered them mercilessly but they fought to the last.

When he awoke, the world seemed unfocused, a blurry image of its former beauty and a mirror image of his dream. He dragged the same sharp, bloody stone across his face three times to commemorate the glorious battle. One dark red line to symbolize each army, and their intersection on his high left cheekbone. From that time on, the only color he ever cared for was red. The rest of the world is only dull shades of gray.

The experience of starting fires, letting blood in combat, and ritual sacrifice of the fallen would alwats have deep spiritual significance for Drahitt. He is naturally drawn to Asral, god of war and to the great city that hosted the glorious battle in his vision.

After he staggered down from the tundra half-dead, he spent some time recovering in ArboRea and relearning how to use his limbs. He sometimes had trouble focusing and suspected that his mind had been altered by the vision and the frostbite. Patches of his memory were blanked out, and his childhood was all but lost. He soon met Asral priests, including Borin, Trith, Mazarmormuk, Axstream, and Flavius. Trith agreed to accept him into the clergy as an acolyte after he passed some tests. Drahitt was glad to have a powerful mentor and someone to learn from. At 16 years old, Drahitt definitely had some growing to do.

After about a year of constant training, his limbs had partially restrengthened and he had made many sacrifices to Asral. His journey to pay back the Red God was just getting started... when suddenly this journey came to an unexpected end.

---

Comments on the Yoons welcome: