Shirak Agvamar was born to a rather mundane family. Growing up in a tribe on the edge of the shackles. They kept to themselves mostly with the occasional excursion to nearby towns to trade. The tribe was quite adept at fishing, being able to swim tends to be a bonus in such things. They also had their share of craftsmans, but only needed a select few to support their meager needs.
Shirak never really took to the standard skills of his fellow undines. Never really got into the fishing trade and didn’t have the mental capacity for crafting. Instead he seemed to have an unnatural connection to the wild; plants in particular. He would ignore his duties and spend hours combing through seaweed washed up on shore. Shirak always separated them out by type and return them to the sea.
Fearing Shirak would become one of those dreaded mercenaries, or worse, his parents bought him some books in a desperate attempt to find a skill that would help the tribe, even a historian would be ok. Their current one was getting on in years and would need to pass down her knowledge soon, but alas Shirak cared very little about the water mephits that created them. His only worry seemed to be maintaining the balance of nature. Constantly chastising the elder’s if he felt they were fishing too much or cutting down too many trees.
“We take too much!” he would shriek. “We’ve no right!”
He went so far as to recommend families share dwellings to reduce the housing demand. His cries of mercy seemed to fall on deaf ears. The tribe was set in its ways and seemed little would change.
One particularly frustrating day, Shirak took a walk in the nearby woods to clear his head. He always felt at home in the wilderness… During his stroll, he sensed a deep terrible agony creep through his veins. Stumbling on a clearing he saw a fellow tribemember sitting on a fallen oak, pulling crimson petals off a flower…
“He loves me” **pick**
“He loves me not” **pick**
“He loves me” **pick**
Eyes, full of tears, Shirak lost it. In a fit a fury he charged in and bashed the undine with a club.
“NO!!!! LEAVE THAT POOR THING ALONE!!!!” The unsuspecting girl dropped to the ground, a blue fluid leaking out of her ear. Shirak checked her, fairly certain she’s going to be ok...but not entirely sure…
Pondering what he should do about this, a squeaky voice pipes up.
“Thank you, sir. She was trying to kill me.”
Jerking his head around to see who is speaking...not seeing anyone else in the clearing, Shirak looks back to the girl and plant in front of him.
“Sir, I appreciate your kindess, my name is Leyafold”
“Uh...hi…”
“Is she dead?”
“I don’t think...she’s the chieftain's daughter…”
The two spoke for a great while longer. Leyafold told Shirak stories of atrocities committed by so-called civilized folk. Cutting down whole forests, so they could build vast cities. Dumping waste in rivers and streams...and worse. Horrified by such possibilities and afraid of returning home, it was decided the two would set out into the world and try to reform and educate the reckless. And those refusing to see reason...well, balance must be kept...by any means.
