Asher was a young child living with Matilda, a servant that lived at the manor of Leo Blackwood. Asher was only a young boy of five years of age who looked the spitting image of his father other than the color of his hair. He received that from his mother who had raven black hair. When he was orphaned in the dragon attack he was two years old, so he had basically no memory of his parents.
Matilda had told him many times during the three years in between that his parents were both great warriors in their own right. She had explained that she would reveal everything in time as Asher got older. That time never came, as tragedy struck shortly after they had celebrated his fifth birthday.
An attack from a necromancer hit the settlement that ended Matilda's life in almost an instant, in which she used her own body to shield Asher.
They had been walking down the street as skeletons and zombies shambled towards them. One had made a move towards Asher and Matilda took the hit, being pierced from behind with a sword and falling on top of him.
He laid under the bleeding corpse for over a day, praying nothing checked underneath it. When he emerged, teary eyed and terrified there were soldiers awaiting. He thought that was his salvation. In the end it was only the beginning of years of suffering for Asher.
The soldiers brought Asher and any other survivors back to their Lord where all of the survivors were made to swear fealty to him, including Asher. The young boy spent three years attempting to please the Lord and received no recognition for his efforts. Asher worked hard in the fields as he grew older and more bitter towards his captors.
In exchange for any form of back talk, Asher would be whipped and beaten. The punishments only became worse as he grew older. As he reached his eleventh year of age, he had finally had enough and tried to sneak out of the manor walls. Asher was caught and beaten within an inch of his life by the guards for the impudence of attempting to leave his Lord who had saved him as a small child.
That was the final straw for Asher. He studied the guardsmen for weeks, watching for patterns on the walled estate. Once he had figured out their routine, he set a new plan in motion. With a small knife in between his teeth, he scaled the manor into the Lord's room and slit his throat. Years of abuse would never be gone, but Asher had the satisfaction of watching the light leave his captor's eyes.
Asher grabbed a satchel and attached it to his small frame with as much gold as he could comfortably carry. As luck would have it, there was a goblin attack as he was attempting to leave the estate that distracted the guards.
The goblins attacking the settlement were weak, standing at about three feet tall. However, there were hundreds of them attacking all at once. Asher dodged between dozens of them, barely escaping the clutches of death at every twist and turn. Once he broke through the ranks of the goblins, he never looked back as the remains of the manor were set ablaze by the animalistic goblins.
Over the next few years, Asher made quite a name for himself. He was not only a thief, but dealt in information as well. His wiry frame as a teenager did a lot of good for him in getting into tight spots. He had learned from several experienced cutthroats on the streets about the tools of the trade. Asher had learned to pickpocket and lockpick as well as about anybody else in the towns he roamed. Over time, he began to deal in more serious crimes such as highway robbery.
The group he began to associate with called themselves the green dragons. He had been trying to make some extra coin on the side, working the drunken customers in the tavern when he overheard a haul the group had gotten a hold of. With his natural greed, he was intrigued and asked to join them.
Their trademark was the scaled leather armor that was dyed green to match their namesake. The helmets they all wore has wings that curved past their faces. This was where Asher came to the realization that his world was not fair. He spent nearly a decade with the group and didn't amount to much other than being muscle to force caravans into giving up coin for the tolls the group imposed.
When a wandering lich came across the group, they scattered to the wind and Asher was once again alone. In all of his life, Asher had been with the green dragons the longest out of any other group. He had wanted to fight, but a lich was beyond what even the whole bandit group could handle.
He wandered in search of anyone to keep him company, whilst simultaneously being bitter towards the world for the way his life had turned out. The cycle continued throughout the years with Asher becoming more and more disheartened with any idea of companionship, because he had already gone through the same cycle multiple times. He would join or form a group and they would be slain or scattered.
Asher had even tried an honest living once or twice as he had gotten older. His frame had remained wiry despite getting older. Each time he decided to make an honest wage he had put on muscle however, giving him more of a lean look with a very attractive face resembling his father more and more as he got older. Rather than a mane of brown hair however, he took after his mother in that he had jet black hair along with his father's emerald green eyes. Many had to do double takes as they went by, as he had the classic nobility look whilst being dressed in rags.
Despite his attempts to have a normal life, they always ended in disaster. Monsters would come in and slay the townspeople while Asher would flee. The cycle continued until he went to one new city in particular which had an adventurers guild. He had tried just about everything else he could besides joining a garrison, so he figured it was worth a shot.