The Death of Magic
It all started when I was about 70, working with my parents in their little trinket shop. One day, when I was cleaning up after closing, the shop was attacked. We tried to stop them, but I was inexperienced and outnumbered so I wasn't much help. They killed my parents in that fight, and I don't understand why they didn't kill me, but I guess I should be greatful for that at least. They ended up stealing everything but a small magic whistle, just says some weird name instead of whistling. I don't even remember us having it in our inventory, but who knows, my parents didn't tell me everything they bought in to sell. Since then, I've been refining my skill as a fighter, and trying to search for whoever did that to my family and our shop. I've searched every black market, looking for any sign of the items we had in the inventory to try and trace them back to those bastards. Thirty-years later, I still haven't been able to trace anything back far enough, but I keep finding more and more items from our shop finding their way onto the market. So far the only thing I've been able to figure out is that they have a larger plan, and taking out our shop was just a small part in it. Not sure if there was something they wanted from the inventory, or if my parents were up to something I didn't know about. The current plan is to go to Helsput, and learn to use magic from a friend of someone I helped along the way. Hopefully, I can learn something that might be able to track down those bastards. Hell, maybe they could figure out this whistle.