He was raised by his father, who was a master cleric of the city of Moonsea. He knows little of his mother and sister who died when he was very young. All through his life he heard tails of the Battle of Malagor where his mother and sister died. He knows the mark of the kin who killed them and has ever since run from their kind. His father, wise and powerful, was able to save him from the battle long ago. Yet he will always remember the great loss the city of Moonsea had that day. As he grew up his father aged from his healing arts much faster as if his magic was taking its toll on him. He always told Orel that life is short and if you want something done do not waste time. As Orel grew up he always wanted to seek revenge on those how killed his sister and mother. He learned the ways of his fathers healing, it was strange to most, but in time he learned its magical expertise. It is an art known as Shugenja; the elementals control this type of divination and his chosen specialization was “AIR” element. He joined the Order of Consuming Flame. Which taught him of fire spells.
On his 23rd birthday, the order recognized him as full fledged Shugenja of the Order of Consuming Flame. He and his father, a healer Shugenja favored in water element and of the Order of the Gentle Rain, traveled the lands to teach young Orel of the surrounding areas. As hence forth Orel was solely responsible for himself in any and all situations. During their scouting and adventuring around the city Daggerford they encountered many special challenges to over come and met many strange people. Yet another day Orel would never forget is the day his father died. If it was not for these two elves, he surly would have died as well. We were rushed by 4 or 5 I really never could see them all, my father tried to shelter me. In a mad furry these animals, or maybe humanoids, charged my father. He healed and attacked, but there were too many. Once I saw him drop I went into a trance and nearly fainted, I was able to heal myself once and to my rescue a strange pair of elves’ came and killed the remaining enemies. As I fell faint I made out a rouge in the shadows. I did not even get there names till I was awakened back in town.
As I awoke in a panic my father was nowhere to be found. I was so distraught I did not even greet my rescuers I immediately asked where my father was. A fellow dressed in all black leaning on a wall with a staff leaning beside him said “Your father did not make it, we tried to save him but he died saving you.” Anger grew within my heart at the distress of my father’s death. As taught in my training I evaluated the situation and noticed there were three travelers and an odd looking man who seemed very wise and strong. I stood up tall and everyone in this small humble house could see my stature in full appearance. I wore full mail armor from the neck down and had a shield lashed on my back. At my feet lay a flail finely crafted with a symbol of helm on it. As the others looked upon me they saw a young man almost glowing in the sun, his Aasimar ancestry showing though. His face though scared from the death of his father still held a defiant look a profound scar was barely displayed on the left side of his forehead covered by his hair. His shoulder long dirty blonde hair seems almost perfectly placed as if never in battle. Despite the defiance within his stare, his face was almost uncharacteristically tall with green eyes and faint blonde eyebrows that practically blended upon his brow. He seemed wiser then strong, as his gaze seemed the strongest of his traits. This man, who now was fully sound and committed to the situation at hand, said “I am Orel of Moon Sea, like my father before me I am a Shugenja, and serve the god Helm, who are all of you and thank you for your help? Am I in the graces of friends?” The group of travelers lay quite as if to take in the sight of him.