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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rathan" data-source="post: 5127401" data-attributes="member: 1322">Death...As Doren watched Thomas' body being taken away it reminded him exactly why he hated needless killing to begin with. From a year young age Dorens life was wrought with untimely and sometimes unneeded death. His First experience with this end of all fates 'disease' and Doren sometimes calls it was at age two. He can still remember the letter from the state his father received in regards to Jacob's death. Jacob was much older than Doren was, he was 17 when he passed and doing the math he was 15 years Doren's senior. Doren watched the frayed piece of parchment spin in mid flight as it dropped from his fathers hand after reading the correspondence.  At this age Doren's reading skills were not par enough to make out most of the long elaborate words at the state explained his brothers death however Doren knew in small part what had transpired. This of course changed Dorens father completely. Jacob was his eldest son and respected him more than most as he was following in his fathers footsteps as a city law official. Jacob was head of his class in psychical and academic studies as he trained and honed himself to follow the laws decrees set forth by Blackmoor himself. Dorens father turn to the spirits to calm his souls pain and it was not long before depression set into anger.... and to anger abuse.Dorens father would repeated beat him for even the most simple wrongs. Not making his bed before school in the morning would have him lamed and bruised before he could get out the door on the long walk to school. Dorens mother was spared the abuse but more than likely because his father pitied her as it was her son she lost as well. Mother was not able to have any more children because of the danger of rapid and uncontrolled bleeding she underwent with Doren's pregnancy, thus loosing one of her own was especially hard on her. The two boys though went through hell and back listening to how perfect Jacob was and how we couldn't hold a candle to 'my good boy' as father would routinely call him. Despite this Doren refused to be angry at this father over the years. Until one faithful day Doren will never forget. It was something Doren could recall just by closing his eyes and shuttering at the thoughts racing through his head. Dorens next oldest brother Hanson was always a quite boy. He was a mere ten months older than he was. Naturally being  so close in age, he and Hanson shared a closeness that he never did with Jacob. He and Hanson did everything together, and through fathers drinking binges tended each others wounds and subconsciously kept each other sane through he and his mothers constant fighting and bickering after Jacobs death.   It was a cold night that night, frost on the single panes of glass glowed and eerie light light from the oil lamps used to give life to the cold and now broken home. Hanson was doing homework as Doren did his chores. Doren was dusting an old medal of Jacobs on the mantle of the fireplace carefully, but not carefully enough. The medal tipped and slipped past Dorens fingers as he stumbled to catch it mid air. Before he could suck in a breath of horror he looked down to see the medal in three pieces. Doren snapped his eyes to his father, already home from a hard days work with bottle already in hand. Doren had never seen anyone move that fast in his life. Before he could even get an 'I'm so sorry' out his mouth he felt the heavy hands of his father grasping and shaking him violently to and fro sputtering cuss after swear cursing his worthless youngest son and wishing he'd never been born. Soon Doren was toss to the floor and the hard impact was followed by heavy fist each finding a different part of the body to batter and bruise. Doren lifted his tear-stained eyes as the barrage of beatings lulled for a moment to look upon his father almost wondering why he had stopped and at this moment, Doren would never be able to shake what he saw with his own eyes next.Hanson was screaming at the top of his lungs as he tried to pull his own hulking father off his brother. Fearing he was going to kill Doren for his mistake Hanson grabbed the fireplace ash shovel off it's sconce to beat his father back and keep him at bay for the moment. However as Hanson turned to strike his father to keep him at arms reach, Doren watched as his father pulled his dagger from his waist sheath and take the blow from shovel like it never even happened before sinking the blade deep within Hansons chest.'Was this real? Can this really be happening' Doren though as he sat up in what seemed like moments later to cradle Hansons lifeless body in his arms as he slowly bled to death. Dorens father stood over them body just blankly staring at now his second sons death imminent before him, this time though, through his own doing. Doren could not hear, voices made no sense as his sanity reeled watching his closest brother die within his arms this night. Two brothers now gone.... only he remained. A week later his father took his own life in light of what he'd done. He could not live with the fact it seemed that this was his doing this second time around. Death was nothing new to Doren, in fact his brothers, and in a sick way even his own father gave him the drive to stop things like this from happening in his profession. Doren was far from perfect, and death was nothing new to him.... however needless death was something that struck cords too close to home and heart for his liking.Doren quickly shook his head trying to clear his thoughts of his past and looked ahead at awe inspiring beauty of White Vale to try and 'change the subject' within his own mind.</blockquote>

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