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About Azavel

Azavel Killenddare was the result of an affair between a Cheliax noblewoman named Lucretia and a womanizing elf. As soon as Lucretia found out she was pregnant, she gathered up her fortune, such as it was, and ran away to Varisia.
She lived there for some time, careful not to let on her identity. But after about ten years, she was found by her former husband, who was obligated to kill her for her disgrace.
Lucretia tried to put up a fight, but she was no match for him. Hardly had his mace crashed down on her head when he drew his dagger and finished her.
Azavel, who had been watching the fight, couldn't hold in his cry of shock and grief. The man who had just killed his mother, and who Azavel knew nothing about, noticed the half-elf. He clenched his dagger and took one menacing step towards him. Then something of a look of pity crossed his face. He turned his back to Azavel.
"I cannot imagine the mess I just made of your life. For that, I'm sorry. But you can take my word for it. Your mother had it coming. When you grow up... if you're still raw about it... I'll be waiting."
He paused, wiped the blood from his weapons, then left, all without looking back. Azavel never saw him again.
After a number of hellish days and nights without sleep, Azavel steeled himself and set out to prepare himself for his quest of revenge. Asking around, most people laughed a ten year old half-elf asking to learn fighting techniques away. But eventually he heard that Taldor had a prestigious dueling tradition.
With his mother's money, he had no trouble getting passage to Taldor. His race prevented him from getting the best training, but even the teachers that were doing badly enough to take a half-elf as a student taught him well enough.
For seven years, Azavel lived and breathed fighting. He trained every day, pushing himself as only one seeking revenge for his mother can. His progress was slowed by masters that refused to accept the fact that he was outgrowing them.
Eventually, though Azavel still deemed himself not strong enough, his money was running out. Uncertain of what the future would hold, he set off to Cheliax to track down his mother's murderer.
It was shortly after learning the man's name, Cicero, that Azavel discovered he had died of illness four years before.
His psyche broke. He couldn't sleep for days. Finally, the temptation of alcohol was too much. He gave in, and began drinking a town dry, getting kicked out, and going to a new town to repeat the process.
Time does not heal all wounds. And alcohol harms more than it helps. But after six years, Azavel has realized the situation he is in. He has determined himself to put his past behind him. Realizing he has no skills other than fighting, and hearing about a war between something called the Worldwound and one Pathfinder Society, he offers his services...