"Every other Elven male seemed content being a loser who focused on grace or sorcery or whatever. Wizards and duelists, who wielded devastating magical spells and swayed like willows to avoid mountain-cleaving blows. Lightly armored, lightly armed, and smiling arrogantly at any elf that was younger than them.
He, on the other hand, was going to hit things in the face very hard, and laugh when things hit him very hard. He was going to wear heavy armor, use very big weapons, and throw himself into danger with absolutely no regard for potentially wasting a thousand-year lifespan by dying young.
Naturally, this meant he was running away from home at the ripe age of twenty."
