Barek was born the son of a Kellid tracker and was destined to become one of his people's most promising young minds, but destiny is indeed a fickle, ever-changing beast. His father, bitten by one of the great Northern beasts, took a nasty disease in his leg that required the removal of the limb to even survive. A rough and ready man of the North, Barek's father took it in stride, but the removal of such an important item to a tracker left his father weakened and sickly, despite all efforts.
A year after his father fell ill, the former tracker and his family moved south, far south into the warmer climates, in hopes that the time in the heat would ease the phantom pains of a lost limb and the chaos it was bringing to the family. In true fashion of the harsh North, Barek soon found his father passing after a short, but intense, sickness of the blood. Barek's mother tried to keep their family together, giving the family an income by “performing” for various gentlemen.
Egede was where the young man grew into a young man, and it is where, after 14 rough years, the young Barek grew into a man of 19 winters. His mother, by this time, spent more of her time with the “gentlemen” and the majority of the family funds on pesh. She claimed it was simply part of the job requirements, but Barek knew the truth: it might have been that excuse at one time, but now it was simply an addiction.
So, with a heavy heart, the Kellid left his family's new home on the lake to find his own way in the heart of the Crusade. His funds were small, mostly heirlooms (his armor and his daggers) and necessary items for his journey. The journey, though, was not without its dangers. His small caravan made a series of improper turns, ignoring (even blatantly so) the area in a way that none of the travelers were aware of. It was when the caravan came to a stop in the middle of nowhere that Barek became worried.
Even more worrisome were the screams that soon began to follow and the unearthly sounds that followed. Most of that day have been lost in a haze of alcohol and sleepless nights, but Barek strongly remembers a silent woman, wearing the white robes and starknife of the Desnan clergy. She was swift and strong in dragging the surprised young man from the rough hew carriage and onto the hard packed ground.
Nowhere around them looked familiar. Or safe. Everything was dark, burned, twisted. The iconic Worldwound region was where the woman found him, and she was his guide, showing more talent and skill than even his father had at his prime. Whether it was hours or minutes later, Barek still is unsure. The Kellid knows, without a doubt, though, that if the young man weren't sent running to one of the way stations, while the young woman decided to prove a distraction for the cultists who were once again trailing him...well, those are the stuffs of the young man's current nightmare.
Even now, Barek Leif searches for this woman who saved him from a fate worse than death. There are still no signs, despite having searched every Desnan temple, spent every extra bit of coin, trying to find the guide who saved his young soul.
Not that he has been very religious of late. The young Kellid has been taking the mantle of the Kellid tracker. Despite not being trained in that area with the same ease as his father, Barek has learned that the Crusader tourists would be willing to pay a decent amount of money for someone to guide them around the city and the surrounding countryside, so they could return home and say how they took part in the great Crusade and survive. It doesn't hurt his heart that these foolish men and women never notice that they are never in true danger and that their part in the Crusade is only giving a young Kellid just enough coin to have a roof over his head and food often in his stomach.
