"As a child," Evartan began, "I had everything one could want in this life. Two loving parents, scores of friends, a good education. Everything was about as blissful as can be. But then..." He paused ominously before continuing. "Then, when I was eight years old, my parents decided to have another child. When he came into the world, he was deformed, twisted, cursed with a gnarled left hand and a face that had the lines of old age. My parents were scared of him, but he was their son. So we named him Makuran, and he became my brother.
"Sadly, he grew up detesting the world around him. He detested his parents, who argued about his future constantly. He detested the land, which rejected him like a curse. And he detested me, whom he thought as useful as a giant insect. We tried to change his views, but it was no use. In time, I grew into adulthood and left my little village to explore the world. Makuran stayed behind. I didn't see him again for almost forty years.