One night Kharn ventured from his parents in the wilderness alone whilst they slept, he did not speak a word of this to them as he knew he would not have a hope of exploring if they knew of his plans. As he returned to the camp he returned to only the two slaughtered souls of his parents and a savage band of rouge bandits looming over their bloodied bodies searching for any items of worth. He did only what he knew to do which was run. He'd been taught to keep on moving his whole life, where he lay his head he called home. His mother and father never stayed put for too long as they knew it was not safe. Gipsies they may have been but their intentions were only to survive and maybe they did go about this in the wrong ways but it was a way of life for them and it had become a way of life for kharn aswell. Now he tends to keep to the shadows until the night, keeping a eye out for danger, this was a valuable lesson he had learnt at such a young age but it also left him to fend for himself. Knowing that his own fate could very well end up how his parents had. A lack of trust loomed in his mind at every man he met.