Artyom was born in a poor town. After a raid by barbarians his parents perished in a fire started by previously acclaimed barbarians. He hunted them down in the harsh winter nights close to the northerner border. A tattered browned cloak separated from a regular life and a warrior doing odd jobs from stealing to murder with whispers of his forgotten surname burning UN-recognizable cinders in his memory. eventually he found his way to prosperous city of oseria overwhelmed by the technology he had never seen. The young kid was just 18 and fit in semi-perfectly with the bad crowds or hiding in the shadows waiting in the slums. now the prospect of joining a larger underground organization or the honorable military ponders around him. But for the moment its a time for rest