Originally Posted by Arenvald
My father was in the imperial army, a man of Garlean blood. I trust you know what I mean when I say that my Ala Mhigan mother did not welcome my arrival?
As I grew, she would check my brow over and over, convinced that a spot on my skin was an emerging third eye─like the kind you see in pureblood Garleans. My mother did not care for this taunting reminder of my heritage, and took up a knife...
War paint serves to cover the scar.
In the end, she turned me out into the street, and I was left to haunt the alleyways of Ala Mhigo, a feral child who got what he needed through begging, cunning, or worse.
The best I can say about the years that followed is that I survived. But I hated the animal I'd become. Eventually, I left the city behind me, and joined a group of refugees bound for the other side of the Wall. It was then that I turned to adventuring, and that road led me into the company of the Scions.