Klevtrìth has grown up under the guidance of the elves, training to fight as they do.  He longs for the chance to attack the dwarves and liberate those whom Uthov has enslaved, but is he as ready for war as he thinks?  
 

     For more than five years I lived with the elves, learning their language, becoming part of their ways and forgetting more of my humanity.  No one from Besann had kept any vestige of their lives after the dwarves came, so how could I in good conscience remain the same?  Though I did not interact with those who had been taken into the mines, my heart changed with theirs: hardening to the reality of the evils that Uthov had committed and drawing ever closer to Onarre.  They prayed for deliverance, and I prayed to be their deliverer.

     It was now well into the autumn season in the month of Avicmic, which the elves call Navom.  The final war with Uthov that I had hoped for would soon be upon us.  In my arrogance as an adolescent, I thought I was ready for battle, that I could personally end the war and be a savior to those in captivity.  Experience cures foolishness, but it can be a fiery remedy, as it would be for me.