Eli Montack's page

The early morning breeze chills the shaved sides of his head as he kneels at the recent dug graves of his family. His current meditation is from habit more than faith as the recent tragedies that have befallen his family have shaken most of that from him. First the gods took him from his family and now they have taken his family from him.
His meditation takes him back to his youth on the small farm his father tended on the outskirts of Sand Point. The closeness of the farm to the city allowed for safety from the dangers of the area and his father‘s love of the land had earned him respect from the wood elves of the area. The family lived and worked in relative peace. He remembered learning how to defend himself from his father at an early age and his father always called him a natural. They worshiped Erastil god of the hunt and of farming, for obvious reasons. When several clerics of Erastil noticed his ability they inquired with his father if they could take him and teach him the ways of Erastil. His father thought this was a gift from the god himself to allow one of such poor upbringing the ability to learn and become a cleric or monk so he accepted on the spot.
He obeyed his father’s wishes and went with the clerics even though it tore at his heart to be separated. He studied and trained hard and quickly did become a monk skilled at hand to hand combat, a few weapons, and learned alchemy from the clerics at the monestary. Though he worked and studied hard, he always missed his parents and three younger siblings.
When he received the news of his family’s death he was given leave to bury and mourn them. The story of the house burning down struck him as odd but possible. So he has come every day for the past two weeks to kneel and meditate at their graves. His meditation on this morning is broken by the sound of a falcon’s cry and as he turns to see if he can spy the bird he notices a young man. The unusual young man has returned again this weekend. He looks out of place in his fine clothes walking among the graves. Why would any young man choose to spend his time wandering in this type of place, but the thought quickly leaves him as he turns his thoughts back to his family and his future. Where will he go from here, what will he do. He only knows that he does not want to return to the monastery, and life without his family has left a hole in his soul. He really wants nothing more than the sweet release from this reality, but only if it is an honorable one. And this place he once called home, is celebrating while he mourns. The annual Harvest Festival is almost here but what is celebration with no one to celebrate with... it is lonely.
As he looks up the young man stands before him and the young man begins to speak, “Have you heard of the need at Castle Firrin. It seems there are rumors of orc hordes. It seems they need help there and could use anyone willing to join their ranks.” As the monk stood and looked at the young man with confusion the young man continued. “It would seem that they are desperate need.” As the young man finished his sentence he turned and started to walk away.
The monk called after the young man, “Hey wait”. But the young man continued to walk away. The monk decided he would follow after the young man so he turned and grabbed his back pack in order to take all he had with him, but as he turned to run after the young man he was no longer there. The monk, Eli Montack, just stood there not understanding what in the world just happened. But he now had a cause to die for and he knew where he would go from here, Castle Firrin.

Stature- Tall, thin, but well muscled he looks unimposing. He is not handsome but is not ugly and his bald head does not lend to any attractiveness.
Eli Montack is distraught over the loss of his family and has lost some of his faith because of the tragedy. He looks to do good in order to make up for their death and may want to have the sleep of forever.