Legends of Belariath
Rumil Elanesse
Born in the deep forest, leagues away from the boundaries of Nanthalion, Rumil was raised by his loving, if a little overprotective, parents. Time spent playing with other youngsters, all the while carefully watched over by either mother or father, caused him to grow in some ways, but to have other aspects of his growth stunted, his parents always there to protect him if he stepped too close to danger, or to ward away others if they got to close, as a result he had a very full, if not very close childhood with others, never really having any real friends or forming any real close ties with anyone apart from his parents.
When he turned 20 he was accepted as an apprentice to the mage of the township, favours passed between the mage and his parents to ensure this would happen, and he would spend most if not all of his time under supervision. He was shown the arts and crafts behind the arcane skills in the hopes he would follow the mage to become the foremost magical knowledge within the town. Included in this training was the art of enchanting, to which he easily took and soon rivalled his master in skill in that particular field, being able to perform the same, if not more difficult enchantments some of the time.
30 years passed and he learnt many other skills from his mentor, but still lacked in certain personal areas of his development. Then came the day for him to become a mage of his own right, to step out from the shadow of his mentor and take his work unto himself, potions were brewed in readiness for the display, items enchanted and spells crafted to show off his powers and arts.
Then the orcs attacked, overwhelming the little town before anyone could really lift a finger in defence of it, Rumil managed to battle a little, but was unused to the results that his spells could inflict upon living things and soon broke down in the line of fire. His mentor, using the last of his arts flung Rumil through the air, the old elf receiving a lance through the chest for his troubles, although at least he saved Rumil from certain death.
Rumil came to lying upon the shore of a creek, marks around him showed signs that someone else had found him and dragged him from the stream, relieving him of his clothing and other worldly belongings, he shivered and slowly stood up, looking around apprehensively, a couple of ferns taken to protect his modesty as he moved off through the forest. Coming across a small hamlet late one night, clothing stolen from a washing line and he was away, hoping to find his way back home to see what had become of it.
Three years later, and after many false trails and dead ends he managed to find the area he had once called home, now deserted and completely razed to the ground, not a trace remained, he voiced a soft sigh and turned around, striking out on his own, his skills put to good use to keep him fed and clothed, as well as building a little pocket money for emergencies. A further year passed and he heard rumours of a place called Unigo, a place of wondrous magical study, and decided to head towards it, perhaps they might have a place for him there.