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- Forcystus' home was a small village, completely isolated and unknown from the outside world, that had never done anything to anyone. This village was entirely comprised of half-elves, Slyverant's version of Exire, and had done it's very best to keep out of the eyes of humans and elves alike.
Forcystus was just twelve when this carefully contained peace was disrupted. It happened fast and violently, humans raced in and attacked everything in sight, screaming something about Desians and justice and how things should be. They didn't give a damn about who they hurt or what wrongs they committed, and after attempting to stop them {and discovering that they were such fragile, fragile little things - a simple spell had killed almost fifty of the two hundred invaders} the monsters set eyes on him. They broke almost every bone in his body, smashed his nose, ruined one eye with hot pokers and tore up his left ear with sharp knives so badly that it was almost off by the time they stopped.

One of them had dropped a grenade. Forcystus, attempting to think quickly to save his life, grabbed the item and pulled the pin. He waited too long, tossed it too late, and though he killed his attackers, he also blew his own arm clean off.

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