I am Azrid. They gave me this name because my big grandfather was a dragonslayer and after him Every man in our family was named Azrid, just like me.
I'm a Half-elf because my grandfather was an elf andmy grandmother was an Human.
I researched magick through books in the library so my friends started to call me wizard, and after that I started to call myself "Azrid the Wizard"
I'm 1.90 meters and even though I researched science and magic through the university by disguising myself as human and never did physical training I'm not fat but to be fair, I'm not that muscular either. I have blonde hair and green eyes.
I will folow magic users no matter what and one day become one of them.
I will use magic, science and leadership to become the next Ruler of Kings!
A Sentimental Value
I came out of my burning room, everywhere was on fire. I had to leave this house after seeing this, but
I could not. At least I needed something to remember them, so I opened the nightstand and
found a bronze ring with inscriptions. I later remembered it. My mother was going to give me that ring when I left the house, Then I suddenly begun to cry. I was leaving home now, but never thought of going like this, but I was going. And suddenly the inscriptions on the ring shined. I'm sure this thing was magical now. At least like that
With the help of a wizard, maybe I could understand this spell because I knew magic more or less. I put my ring in his pocket and got out
I took it because it brought back memories of my mother and father, and it was magical. At least I thinked it was magical.
My first meeting with my advisor was like this:
I left the library and went to the tavern. I was very hungry.
-Can I get some food?
My food came, after I worked in the library so much, I had the right to eat. While I was thinking about these
I noticed a woman in robes watching me. I approached the tavern door but did not see anything. Maybe I saw an
illusion.At that moment I felt a hand approach to me and suddenly I grabbed it, turned around and gave a bad look.
-No, I just wanted to talk to you about your ring, not the way you think.
I was surprised and immediately sat at my table. The woman was in her 20s and I think she was albinos. The woman
started talking "5 years ago, a woman who wore the same ring as you came to my father's tavern. She was 54 years old,
she said. "
54 + 5 = 59 this was my mother's age! "Well, have you never seen such a ring in your life?" I asked her
-No, more importantly, that woman changed my life, gave me strength, taught me. In this way,I made our tavern like its
glorious days and got rich, so when I saw the ring again, I followed you; I said, "How would your father describe my
mother?"She is a respectful, good person who always carries a diary with a picture of roses with her.
It suddenly occurred to me and I could not hold back my tears. I hastily forgot to take that book while running from home!
All that beautiful memories, photographs and writings were destroyed ...
While trying to hold back my tears I started to think if she was really that rich I could use her as a ladder for me to talk
with the top and rich. So I ordered a room.
-should I order a room for you too?I said.
No,she said. I know this tavern. And I ordered myself before you even come here.
When we stepped out of the tavern I asked:
-What was your name by the way?
Reflections On Your Mother
My mother was… interesting. She was a little religious maybe? The opposite of what I think. I don't think that there is a GOD anyway. But still she was a great person. Once she learned I was ateist she never did… anything. I mean, I never gone to the temple. She never wanted that for me. Because she always understanded me. I think every kid wants their mom to understand himself. But I don't think every kid had that life. So, I think this is why I lovw mom…
I ordered some meat and waited for it.And she came. That was the first time I saw her. When she came, my eyes
opened, she seemed like a nice woman in nice clothes.She had brown hair and big blue eyes.Her gaze was
frightening; It was like a demon staring at me and ready to attack me, I was a little scared.So do we get
along well?... I guess.Her worldview wasn't like mine, but she still seemed like the kind of person who could
always help me… No matter what.
Reflections on your father
Sometimes my father would be at work, sometimes in the tavern, and sometimes he would eat the mouthwatering stew that my mother made in the home. But other than that, I don't have much memories of him. All I remember about him was hazla eyes that gave me hope, but other than his eyes, I can't even remember his face. That's why my mother was both a father and a mother to me.