The Death of Magic
Grew up with a tribe of other Aarakocra in the rural areas of Eronia. Somehow ended up in a fight against dwarves.(haven't come up with how yet) I was leading a crew of fighters and decided to fight a battle that went terribly and my entire crew was killed. Even I was fatally wounded. But after the battle a Dwarf cleric found me and nursed me back to health. Their hope was to show me that we should not be enemies and wished for me to return to my tribe and be an ambassador. I avoided it at every possibility. I don't want my people to know the mistake I made that costed so many lives. The Dwarves besides my cleric savior started to get suspicious of me and so they asked me to prove that I am still with them and useful by finding out why their wizards have started to go missing. My cleric saviour, Father Hearthstone, gave me their broach, saying that it would prove that I am an ambassador for them and allow me to travel freely. They directed me towards the town in question and sent me on my way. I have been travelling for so long by myself that I nearly forgot how to speak. I still remember my birth language, but not many people speak it.