The Demifrit's Introduction

Hello there, the names Revilo. Revilo T'jol. Yes yes, pleasant meeting you as well. I’m a bit different from your usual adventurer. Ever heard of a demifrit? Didn’t think so. There’s literally a one in a hundred million chance that a human and ifrit could ever produce children. My parents were the lucky ones. Or unlucky. That’s a matter of perspective. But I digress. The point is I’m a rare and fascinating creature, and I must have an exemplary story to tell you, right? Of course, let me start from the beginning….

My father was a simple man, a school teacher in the small town of Mancipium. He lived a sedentary life, keeping quiet with his head low among the loud and unrestrained Legionnaires that policed the district. This was smart, considering the amount of abuse the citizens would incur from so much as a wrong tone of voice. Now my mother was quite the opposite. She was fierce, determined, passionate. Anywhere she wanted to go, that was her very next destination. Anyone who crossed her begged for mercy soon after. Any man she wished to lay with…. well, now I’m getting to how my parents met.

Mancipium is well renowned as a trading post between the heart of the empire and the Arkhosian desert nearby. Two very different worlds, connected by this tiny village. My mother was part of a nomadic ifriti tribe that would frequently make camp at trading posts such as this, usually for a few weeks, sometimes as long as a year if trade was good. My father happened to be browsing the markets when he came across this particular ifrit tribe, the T’jol. He cared not for the crafts and relics of the desert people. His eyes were only on my mother. You see, ifrits can make themselves irresistible when they want to be, lets them have their way with just about anyone dim enough to succumb to it. Most call it hypnotism, others call it “the entrancing power of fire.” However you would like to put it, mother had father under her spell. That very same night….well, ya know. She kept him enthralled for the entire time her tribe stayed in Mancipium. Father claims he snapped out of it fairly soon and fell in love with her on his own, but there’s plenty of opposition to that claim. 

When the tribe was ready to move on to Estus, my mother fully intended to forget about the weak willed human she had been using for the past month and find another one in the next town. But father was persistent, packing as much as he could and leaving everything else behind to follow her. Mother was furious, going so far as to throw fire at the man for being so Gods forsaken clingy. But upon discovering she was pregnant, mother became fearful. The conception of a demifrit was one debated as legend, yet there was no other explanation. After a time, she accepted that she was not prepared to raise a child and that this human would be necessary in its upbringing. She convinced her elders to allow father into the T’jol, as is tradition in wedlock, though unheard of with a human parent. Ultimately, it was decided he deserved to be with his woman and child and his education of the world could serve the tribe well. Father was elated, but things did not go quite so smoothly afterwards. Mother was still adventurous at heart and claimed a single human could never satisfy her. Even after marriage to my father and my birth, she had many lovers over the years and would often be away for a week at a time.

Thus my father raised me, and taught me along with the other T’jol children. I was frequently teased by the others for being a half breed, but felt infinitely better when I could understand lessons and concepts their brutish minds could barely fathom. More so, the studies fascinated me. Particularly anything to do with magic and the rest of the world. It was exciting how we migrate all around the desert and to villages on the outskirts. But we never ventured beyond the tall trees. Ifrits feel most comfortable in the desert heat and any travel outside its warmth is kept to a minimum, the colder climates considered too dangerous. But the sands of Arkhosia are incredibly harsh, if not more so. There are countless creatures out there more than happy to chew your legs off just to hear you scream. Out of necessity, I took to learning how to use a sword and perform magic. If you hadn’t guessed before, my lineage makes me quite adept at conjuring fire. Mother was actually quite impressed with that skill, enough that she would even take me with her when exploring caves or ruins. She wasn’t nearly as much of the teaching sort as father, so there were a lot of things I had to learn on my own in those dark dungeons. First and foremost, how not to die. Half the time she was exasperated by my clumsiness and the rest of the time she praised my survivability as proof of being her son. She’s also the one that directed me into my current profession- mercenary. 

Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m no assassin. If you need a certain treasure recovered or a monster taken care of or you’d like an armed escort through dangerous terrain, I’m your demifrit. But I won’t kill a person. Not if I can ever help it. A surprising amount of employers understand this rule and either accept it with the job or move on to a different businessman. The pay was astounding, especially in places like Estus and Incendium where skimming a few supplies from the Legion was practically a hobby of mine. But it was too easy for me. Too predictable. Part of it was that I never had to go very far from my tribe. I knew the entire Arkhosian desert and every bit of warm land around it by heart. But what about the lands beyond? The ones I had only read and dreamt about? That’s what I need.

 I’ve decided today’s the day. The day that I move on and find whatever is waiting for me on the other side of those forests. I never even paused to say good bye. So here I am, in a dingy little inn, talking to a lovely…uh….erm…..whatever you are, on my way to Fastigium. I’m excited and shaking and a bit cold, but I know I’ll surely start a grand adventure there.