Description
A massive beastman stands imposingly before you. He is covered in short,
khaki-colored hair, most of which is obscured by a series of mystic runes
inscribed across his body. Armored in darkened mithril, much of which is
emblazoned with thousands of tiny, screaming visages. Rather than hinder his
movements, they seem no impediment to the supernatural grace with which he
carries himself. Each horn, chiseled into a serrated tip, glows with a
faint, unholy indigo light. While plainly a warrior by origin, his austere
countenance caries an aura of unspeakable arrogance and power.
Role
Flames of Youth
Added Mon Apr 25 14:54:34 2005 at level 20:
Illegal name, try another.
Name: into this world. Blood and fire. My
horns tearing open the poor female who birthed me. The vain attempts to
cauterize the wounds. The failure, the cremation of her body. From my first
breaths, I smelled smoke. From my first breaths, I knew the power, the
savagery of the Flame.
Years later I wandered the streets as a beggar.I watched, angrily,
jealously, at the tall, proud Unholy knights entering their bloody guildhall.
lusted after what they had. Four times I tried to enter the guild. Four
times I was rejected. No talents for magic did we cows have.Yet when I
gored the recruiter after my fourth rejection, tearing open his veins with my
horns, then did they acknowledge I might have some physical skill, and
shipped me off to the warriors guild.
Some years yet later a tall, broad-shouldered minotaur burst into my simple
cell in the back of the guild. My father, he told me. Holding me down with
astounding strength, he chiseled my horns. How I howled with the pain, yet
when I was left, covered in the dust of my own shredded bones, I realized the
gift he had given me. True, he had violated my sense of self.but, that was
not what mattered.
I believe it unlocked the true sight in my mind. I know now the true power
of fear and flame. I want more power for myself, and I know to use the flame
to get it. It is so beautiful, this simple thing. Incinerates my foes,
cauterizes my woundsdestroys obstacleseven can help with simpler things for
which Ive no care, like farming. The flame is the keyall can be related
back to it. I will use the flame to burn all that stand in my way, all that
prevent me from gaining my deserved power.
The Slow Burn
Added Fri May 20 14:26:04 2005 at level 35:
Much has happened for Gondrak. Some of his biggest dreams have slowly become
reality. Finally, by convincing the Chancellor of his competence, he was
admitted to the Chasm. Immediately he felt the power of the scepter course
through him, and he could beckon Nightwalkers. Him, the shunned Minotaur,
could cast a spell! How powerful he felt, how regal.
In the process he pledged his service to the Black Lady, Dreaa.Many have
asked him why, and he has various answers. Inside, he sees his own logic as
impeccable. A young goddess, slowly coming into her own. . . If he could win
her favor, whatever menial work it took, he would have yet another road to
power opened to him. Her adeptness with the black arts was yet another
attraction, as his own secret passions and desires for magic found yet
another object of desire.
He has come to truly despise the Battleragers. Hate is the wrong word, for
he is not overcome by blinding rage. But they are anathema to all he
believes, and so he will stop at nothing to burn them. His desires for power
have only increased, but he has painfully learned patience and humility,
though he would be loath to admit it.
Advancing Years
Added Sun Aug 21 13:33:37 2005 at level 51:
With his new lease on life has come a renewed attitude and drive. Gondrak
sees himself as the Blade of the Chasm, and takes great pride in his
reputation, not caring how others see him. He believes he is special,
especially having learned some measure of the magic through the Enigma, and
having proved himself enough to warrant a divine infusion of health. Because
of this, he has decided to redouble his efforts to learn to cast even the
simplest of spells. He has become more than careful in his advancing years,
favoring caution over valor, yet he will not shy from any fight he feels
there is a chance of victory.
He has become increasingly wary of the chancellor. While Maztriel has given
him much, which he acknowledges, it throws into contrast that which he
withholds, confidence and trust. He believes he may be making headway into
this area, but until he feels satisfied he will be less then forthcoming,
unless he sees it as benefiting himself. He knows he is the only warrior in
the Chasm at the moment, and desperately wants the fear and respect he feels
he deserves.