My Name is Sven Gunmund, I come from a small half-orc tribe from the plains of an ancient country. When at the age of 10 I was taken from my families house by the tribesmen and placed onto the nearby mountain at the peak (as all boys had done from centuries past) to see if I was strong enough to return home with only my natural instinct and to see if I were strong enough to live with in the clan. While returning from the mountain top my intelgence, endurance, and strength were all tested, but i prevailed. When I had return from the peak I was welcomed back by the head of the clans militia, saying we want you. As i accepted like any boy who returned form the peak I was taken immeadiatly to trianing. There in the training I learned many thing such as the art of the sword, the defence of a sheild, pack formation, and fighting edict. A few weeks after returning from the peak and being in training our village had just gotten pillaged and the clan had been dismanteled. But with the remaining members of our malitia we retaliated with the most fierce and brutal combat that we had learned at the time. But we put up a strong fight for a very small malitia against a well stocked army. But now all that is left from the clan that I once called home is a few nomads wondering from place to place searching for a place to call there.

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