My soul, to be born. Work and then worn. Tested trials and scorn. All of this was to become a Spartan.

My mother and father were killed when I was young. The spartan King said, that my genetics we're strong. I was born with an ectomorph physique. This led my people to believe I would be a great warrior. As the spartan king held me up to the fates, they returned the favor, from looking at me, to blessing me with the 5 warrior virtues. Adaptation, Perseverance, Mobility, Morality, and Honor.

Having a lineage in Sparta for 300 years, when my great ancestor from Carthage bonded with a spartan diplomat. This was my country and liberty. But, without saying anything to the people, my ancestors fled from a terribly mistaken accusation. The spartan diplomat was charged with insurrection of the spartan people. It just so happened, that they were only fantasizing of Carthage people coming to Sparta for a feast to end war with the rest of the world. They said, "Imagine a Carthinean king in Sparta!"

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While as honorable as that sound. Young and mistaken men thought it to be an uprising of power.

Centuries later, a man walked into Sparta with an ancient spartan shield. Saying his ancestors had fought with Sparta long ago. The scribes said it to be true. A long-ago honor was lost, but regained, from the forgiveness of the Spartan King!

That man was my father, who had been blessed from the gods as a very powerful mercenary in the east. Yet he was not of true spartan heritage, so he had never been a high-ranking member in the army. He did however, lay with a true spartan women. And I was born.

My Father was forsaken in battle when I was young. Left to die an un-honorable death. My mother, fed up with grief, died shortly after.

My place in Sparta was highly honored, as the wandering child. Because, my heritage had led a wandering life, fending for themselves in a cold hard world.