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[Alferic]

“I believe I’m 30 years old, however, the way things have been going today I wonder if even that is true? Have I lived here for 30 years? I thought I had, but who’s to say that I was born elsewhere and brought to Syliras? My earliest childhood memories go back to when I was maybe two or perhaps three. I need to talk to my parents, or should I say, adopted parents…”

Pondering these thoughts, Alferic walks gingerly up to the third tier of the Citadel. His apartment is only 20’ by 20’ containing just a hearth, bunk, chest, chair and a small table. However, the spartan nature of the room serves Alferic well enough and he is content. This is just as well as he could only afford cheap accommodation. It is situated so deep within the interior of Stormhold Citadel that there is no windows, and only a small ventilation shaft to bring in some fresh air. The smell is therefore something residents have to get used to. Each hallway is lined with torches which are kept lit at all hours of the day, allowing for some light and gives residents something to light their hearth from.

As he enters his apartment someone is waiting for him. A middle-aged man, around 5’ 8” wearing a dark brown hooded cloak covering his bald head is sitting on Alferic’s only chair and is reading some manuscript. He stops reading when Alferic enters.

“Alferic, where have you been, I was getting worried?”

“Sorry Amus. You were right. They’re trying to find the manuscript. One of their men threatened me and stabbed me here.” Pointing at his abdomen wound, Alferic walks across the room and wearily lays down on his bed, "Fortunately I was able to find a healer."

“I will stay here my lad. You sleep. I will protect you.”