Michael Allen Reeves-Silvertone
Silvertone Elves

Wanderer, warrior, jack of all trades, anything to keep him alive
Half human, half Elf
Dark hair and Eyes
Six foot two
Head Ranger of Heathfield

Bastard, orphan, no knowledge of his past or true heritage, only the drive that would have him step beyond what life handed him to demand more. He found his father in the lands of Heathfield along with his heritage and gifts to hone.

Sired in the highlands of Scotland and born in the valleys of Eire, he never knew his father nor his mother for she died during the famine when he was still a newborn. All he knew was that he was found still alive swaddled in his mother's arms as she was one of the many that died along the roads of Ireland. He should have died with her but a couple took pity and took him in as their own. None knew whom the woman was, another nameless soul, and the only link to his past was locket she wore that held not a picture within, but half a symbol. She had been buried with the countless and the infant boy taken into the Reeves home, even if they had two others to feed.

He didn't go for want of love or attention, treated like he had been born of them, for both Tim and Ethel Reeves were God faring with loving hearts. They were poor as most were, and Mike remembered more nights than he cared to, with an empty stomach. Ethel did know the ways of the woods so when food was scarce she did get edible roots, grains and leaves to supplement. The one trait in Michael not found in the other natural born of the Reeves, was his need to excel. Even if not a large lad in girth he took life on with the ferocity of a lion. He grew from a scrawny, even under weight and height lad to a well toned man of just over six foot.

At six years old he was out working to gain a coin or two a week to help out his family. His ambitious and incessant nature coupled with the boyish charm of his smile, seemed to gain him odd jobs to fulfill this goal of his own making. At the age of fifteen he left to make his own mark on the world. He learned to fight by fighting, he learned near everything by first hand experience, more often flying by the seat of his pants. He trusted in his quick thinking and ability to learn as fast, he was still alive and still facing life itself as an ongoing challenge.

A man with a past but an unknown heritage, secret held within a half symbol.
That past became known after he reached the lands of Heathfield
Lithe on his feet he became an adept Tracker.
Participant in the Heathfield Tournament of Swords

Michael Reeves Silvertone

Heathfield Webpages
Heathfield MB

No claims made on the photos used of Kenu Reeves. They are only in reference how this fictitious character of Michael would appear.

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