Description
You look upon a man clad in well cared for light plate armor,
layered over a chain hauberk, with an ebony black cloak clasped
with a mithril sunburst. A softly glowing dweomored blade rides
his hip, and a glittering silver shield is carried with easy
grace on his arm. He is handsome in a rough soldierly way, a mane
of white-blonde hair tumbling from beneath a helm of ancient design
which he wears with open visor. His face is creased and darkened
by the sun, his eyes a luminescent grey-blue which scan you and
the area around him rapidly. It is clear this is a warrior
used to being in the action. Not a lord or command from the rear type
of leader. His bearing reminds you of many a seasoned veteran you've
seen, but his noble bearing and well groomed appearance tells you quickly
this is no dog of war or sword for hire.
Role
A story begun
Added Sun Oct 2 23:45:36 2011 at level 7:
So the priests have been and gone even the leeches have all but given up on me.
They can agree on only one thing. My end comes swiftly now...I had thought
while I was in my twilight I had years yet to live but such it is at times with these
things. None of us are ready for her when she comes, but come she does. I am
content with the service I have given my lord, Marcatis. My spirit goes to rest easy,
but for the promise I made long ago to write these memoirs, I believe my soul
would depart this realm even now. So it is with shaking hand and wavering pen
I must make a start at this, and while is not the beginning of my tale it is A
Beginning....
"He's had enough, Sir."
"You'll stop when I tell you to stop, Sergeant." The lieutenant responded sharply,
gesturing to a corporal to refill the bucket with more water to wake the prisoner
if he should lapse back into unconsciousness.
The lash cracked sharply, met with a grunt of pain as the prisoner, long since done
crying out accepted the blow across his bloody body. His blonde, near white hair
was matted with spattered blood and sweat, he hung loosely from the stake set
before the village well. The sergeant drew the lash back again, a look of distaste
obvious on his face. As the whip descended, a flight of goose fletched arrows arced
out from the hill behind him. Not fast enough to save the prisoner from this final lash,
but ending the sergeant's time on this realm in a single guttural gasp, and skewering
the lieutenant neatly through the leg, pinning him to his mount. The prisoner
however wasnt aware of this turn of events, as he had fallen again swiftly into the
sweet arms of oblivion....
He came to, vaguely aware something was different, he was in pain but the edge was dulled.
Opening his eyes slowly he looked around the inside of a sparse cottage. It was clear
he wasnt with the army, the room was too quiet if this was an official hospice he'd be packed
in tightly. Looking around cautiously he could see he was alone and judging from the fully
racked armor stand in the corner, this was the home of a lord of some sort. Perhaps
a hunting cottage. As he took this in, the front door of opened and sunlight stream through
silhouetting a tall lean figure.
"I see you're back with us." the man said softly.
"Y-y-es My lord" Maligannt stammered trying to rise to take the knee.
The man flashed across the room, lying his hand gently on his chest to hold him down.
"None of that now, the times when that mattered are long gone, if it ever did."
That was the first time I met my teacher, my guide who brought me to worship and to
realize that darkness can only flourish in the absence of light, and in the absence of
those willing to shine brightly to drive back the dark.
a year in recovery, training, and contemplation passes
Added Mon Oct 3 16:05:37 2011 at level 8:
The massive sword moved lightning quick through the air, and it was only through
familiarity with my opponent that my shield deflected the blow to the ground
without crushing my arm, or splitting the shield in two from the force of
the blow. I countered high, aiming for Cullough's armpit and the joint there,
but as ever with my teacher, he anticipated the swing and was ready for my
text book maneuver, with a grunt he lunged forward and accepted the blow
on his armor. Then crashed his arm down outside the blade trapping it against
his side. Pinning my weapon thus, he delivered a half handed blow which stopped
just short of cleaving my helm. I yielded the melee, and we both leaned over
panting.
"You're improving..with those shield... maneuvers... you caught me several
times... with that jabbing.. edge " Cullough gasped, recovering his breath
before continuing "But your blade work has too much of the army still in it.
If you face a real foe, he wont stand still for those moves either."
"So you've said, but Old habits die hard, Sir." I replied with a grim smile,
I turned to the field table and poured my master a goblet of watered wine.
"Have you decided to act then, upon the news the elves brought?" Cullough
asked with a blank expression as I turned back to him.
"I have, I appreciate all you have done for me, Sir. I think you know how
the past year has changed me, the Code burns in my heart, and faith
lights my soul" I said, meeting Cullough's gaze evenly "I need to
finish what I started that day they saved me and bring that butcher
to heel for what he's done."
"Very well." Cullough said grinning over his goblet as he sipped, "Follow
your heart in this, but be tempered by reason. Dont take on the entire
army to kill a single corrupt man."
"The ones who carry out his orders have just as black of hearts as their
commander." I replied quickly
Cullough thought this over briefly and in responded, saying
"Many would resist his orders , if they hadnt had their spirit broken,
I wont insult you by asking if you would have again disobeyed him. I
know you would, but there are dark forces at play here. I fear he is
their center, more than you even suspect now."
"Yes, Sir. That you discern such even more strongly makes it clear I need
to stop him now." I replied grimly....
A darkfriend cornered...or is he
Added Tue Oct 4 13:11:07 2011 at level 18:
As I prepared to depart Cullough's forest home, we meditated deeply in prayer,
he again demonstrated for me the ritual anointments for my arms and armor the
tone of his prayers was different than any other I had heard, for it was filled
with words of holy power and command. My blade gleamed with righteous wrath
so powerful was the supplication he laid upon it, and as I turned to depart
the ritual he laid his hands upon my shoulders and I could feel his spirit
surge from his hands into my body....
The elves had tracked Garlos, my former commander, to a border fort several days
journey from Cullough's mountain cabin, and their intelligence was
accurate. Garlos had done well for himself in the year since my torture
on charges of desertion, being promoted to a full Commander. The arrow wound to
his leg had healed completely per the elves observation. We arrived at the fort they
believed he was commanding as dusk was coming on. It was confirmed that he was seen
on the palisade walls, and we settled in for a cold night, as a campfire was likely
unwise.
As true darkness fell, a single rider rode out from the walls. The elves sharp eyes
even in this darkness told them this was our very quarry himself! A rare
opportunity and while it seemed too good to be true we'd be fools not to follow
He was making no attempt to hide and travelled directly to a squat rounded stone tower
a short ride distant. We surveyed the tower, it was lightly defended with only
a small guard contingent which we easily overcame. There was no sign of Garlos
as we rushed them. However here the elves and I disagreed. Their plan was to wait
the dark heart out and take him when he eventually departed the tower. I feared
our luck would only last so long, and was(foolishly?) confident in my abilities....
The axe blade I had taken from the arrow peppered guards barely splintered the dark
ironwood of the door, but I would not be deterred. Slamming the blade again and again
I managed to force the frame inward The elves kept to the edge of the forest as I did
thus, flashing hand talk back and forth. It was clear some among them would have aided
me, but they kept to their leaders strategy and stayed back from the tower. Finally
forcing the door open, I grabbed a torch and shouldered my way through.
The room I entered at the base of the tower was utilitarian, simple furniture, cooking
stove, etc. It showed signs that the guards we'd defeated outside had been sleeping here.
However a winding stairwell led up to a thick door blocking the next level. If I Was to
find Garlos I would need to ascend the tower. I approached the door with care, certain
I was about to step into a wicked trap of some sort, even as young and filled with
righteousness as I was I knew it had been too easy thus far. Carefully I crept up the
stair and standing as far distant from the door as I could reach, tapped it with my blade.....
a name earned in pain and blood (part 1 of 2)
Added Mon Oct 10 11:48:38 2011 at level 30:
I woke to darkness...and pain, pain with teeth like a lamprey.. something was here in the darkness
with me, gnashing, snapping, tearing at me, not at my flesh but at my very soul. The snapping
teeth followed me as I fled in darkness. Up ahead a wavering light formed, and within it I could
see/feel the presence of my teacher, Cullough.
Cullough had never failed me, I could not do so for him now. Whimpering with uncontrollable agony I
turned to face the soul wrenching pain....
I woke in truth now, I was alone in the laboratory. Pinned to a table apparently designed for
exsanguinations, blood troughs leading to blazing censors of wicked blue flame at the cardinal
corners. A black handled blade twenty inches in length punched through my abdomen, and into a slot
of the table beneath me. The wicked weapon glowed with an unholy light, waves of dark magic pouring
from the pommel. I was not restrained so powerful was the magic of this blade the wielder trusted
it would simply absorb my will entirely. With a gasping wrench, I tore the blade from my gut, nearly
fainting from the sudden relief of torture this brought. I bent the blade savagely on the edge of
the stone table, it was like pushing against iron, despite its thin blade. Looking around for some
other option, I grasped a pair of blood covered clamps, whose purpose I didnt wish to dwell on, and
grasping the handle of the weapon, held the blade deep in one of the censers of blue flame, the flames
were still fueled to fury by mere drops of my noble hearted blood.
As I heated the blade, I staunched the wounds in my back and abdomen as best I could. The wound
was vicious and disabling, I would be hard pressed in melee in this condition, If Garlos returned
I would be weak as a kitten against him. I saw my arms and armamanents thrown in a discarded jumble
near the door. This was a relief as in particular the shield was a gift from my teacher and ancient
beyond even his knowledge, its mirrored front was perfection despite hundreds of years of use and
it carried blessings and anointment from a group whom he called the Acolytes of the Golden Sun. I
thought with its dweomor, weight and leverage it gave me the best chance of shattering this foul blade.
Grasping on this idea I withdrew the shrieking red-hot blade from the flames, and inserted it quickly
back into the slot which had been designed for its blade within the blood covered table where I had
been pinned minutes before. Grasping the edge of the shield from side, I bowed my head in prayer to
Lord Marcatis to fuel my muscles with faith, and turning rammed the shield against the blade. An
explosion of force and dark-light blasted forth, propelling me backwards heels over hindquarters into
wall, my head slamming back against the stone, my weak grasp on consciousness slid away and
I fell again into sweet oblivion.
a name earned in pain and blood (part 2 of 2)
Added Mon Oct 10 11:56:44 2011 at level 30:
"...rescuing him is becoming a habit, Cullough." the language was common and the tone light
but its speakers voice carried the high, lilting intonation of elvish
"From what I've heard I dont know it wasnt a bit of the opposite, Glandriel." my teacher's
voice was gruff but light hearted, "Your arrows brought down the foul knight, but you were all
but lost until this one shattered that blade."
"Mith'tinechor is back among us, Cullough." another elvish voice responded, this one closer,
bright and high, like a birdsong.
A spirit corrupted
Added Tue Oct 11 15:03:09 2011 at level 31:
Fury blinded me -- deep overwhelming, white red hot rage pulsing in my veins as I flung my
shield away and swung the massive mace with blind anger. Burning hatreed coursing through my veins,
I would crush the life from this mans weak body, see his bones shatter and when he was down I
would trample his bloody corpse into the dirt like the peon he was. He dared to try to strike me
with that holy blue blade? I could feel the rushing pound of blood in my temples as I closed on
him, taking stroke after stroke from the flat of his blade on my armor, he had the reach of me but
I did not care for the pain, I would see his blood spilled in the dirt. It was irrational blood
thirst which drove me beyond all thought, all reason. The man suddenly stopped retreating, a
white aura springing up all around him, he dropped his blade and lunged towards me, trapping my
mace between us, we grappled to the ground. He easily pinned me beneath his massive frame, and
I fought him like a wild dog, until at last in utter exhaustion this unknown beast of rage fled
me, and I came to my senses, pinned to the earth in our sparring circle beneath my teacher, Cullough.
"I can see from your eyes that reason has returned." Cullough leaned back from me and
stood as the white aura around his body faded.
I sat up gingerly, spitting blood and dirt from my mouth, saying "gres... I think so."
"This is most troubling Mal. Your body has healed from the wound but that blades left something in
you, infected your spirit. Can you feel your connection to our Lord Marcatis?" Cullough asked
"I..I am not certain now. I am lost entirely when the fury takes over "I responded. "Has Lord Marcatis
turned from me, have I failed him? Or is this just what you say, an affliction from the hellish blade?"
"I dont believe it is a crisis of faith, for you have been true to the Code as I taught it, have you
not?" He looked at me, a troubled expression on his features
Without hesitation I responded "I have, it is written in my very soul."
"This is well, and as I suspected. Then for now you must fight this taint with the cold light of
reason, root your decisions in logic and stay in control." Cullough sighed. "However to truly be
quit of it, and heal your wounded spirit you will need to complete a pilgrimage to a place
which puts you closest to our Lord on this earthly realm, by remaining near to this holiest of
places, living and growing in this land you will, in time find this affliction cured, or as your faculties
of reason grow at the least learn to master it."
A lesson in judgment
Added Thu Oct 20 13:39:02 2011 at level 41:
Cullough,
It is my hope that this missive finds you well. I've learned much of the realm
to which you've sent me even being graced by Lord Marcatis in the shrine to
which you directed me. I believe through his guidance and direction I have
controlled the wicked taint, though my spirit still aches from the pain of it.
It is my hope to seek the virtue of fortitude that I may bear the pain of this wound.
However it is of the wisdom learned from our Lord and the practical application of
this which I write you mostly now, in the hopes yu may also grow in the wisdom of
our Lord.
In my meeting with our Lord Marcatis we discussed the concept of Judgment,
what I took its meaning To be, and whether it be fair that I sit in judgment.
I went away from our meeting deep with thought, my faith renewed, but
questions within my heart. I believe that I have discerned the concepts which
our Lord had me direct my thought. That being that in as much as it matters to
things which are judged, it is indeed fair that mortals make judgments, but
only when led by logic and divine guidance, what we know as our conscience -
that inherent voice gifted to us by them which directs us to follow the Light
and aids in distinguishing right from wrong.
This leads however to the question of what is logic. I still seek our Lord's
inspiration on this, however it is my belief that logic is an ordered
approach, which infers assumption based
on established facts, which when enough facts approach a reasonable degree of
certainty makes the correct path clear. The path of logic used in judgment being
- observe, formulate assumption, test assumption, evaluate if sufficient evidence,
repeat, or make decision.
I had a personal experience with such recently while adventuring, which taught
me the need for establishing sufficient proof prior to action it was through our
Lord's guidance that I was able to discern the nature of the situation, without
disaster. I traveled with a barbaric elf who though he be skilled with battle,
sadly lacks in tolerance of those who pull dweomor from the world. He sought my
aid in defending his people against a perceived threat from one of the arcane, I
gladly lent it, knowing him of pure heart. However as we approached his village,
he turned and informed me he wished to strike one we passed on the roads for this
was the very one who struck at his fellows. I did not know the magus, so instructed
the elf I would not strike at him, but As we approached the magus called out to me,
asking my aid. I immediately informed the good elf of the dilemma, but his blood was
up and he struck out. Hearing my words the magus's life was spared, but the elf yet
spilled the magus's blood. The sin of that rash decision weighed heavily on him
for he had allowed his hatred of magic to lead him onto a dark path. For me the
lesson was trusting overly much friendship, over logic.
Yours in faith,
Maligannt Mith'tinechor
PK Wins
Oct 3, 2011 |Lv 13|The Citadel of Ostalagiah|Ghrondel vs 3: Adalet (12%), Maligannt (46%), Andethor (40%, impaling)
Oct 8, 2011 |Lv 29|Gol'Galath|Mahkreen vs 1: Maligannt (100%, slice)
Oct 9, 2011 |Lv 30|The Lumberyard|Stayd vs 3: Demina (6%), Olsarn (93%, divine power), Maligannt (0%)
Oct 10, 2011|Lv 30|The Eastern Road|Bleemyboomer vs 2: Mucshil (5%), Maligannt (94%, crush)
Oct 12, 2011|Lv 32|The Eastern Road|Ashinaw vs 2: Maligannt (74%), Mucshil (25%, divine power)
Oct 17, 2011|Lv 35|Shepherd's Row|Rindros vs 2: Fjodir (100%, divine power), Maligannt (0%)
Oct 19, 2011|Lv 41|Balator|Stayd vs 2: Yuzxra (17%, punch), Maligannt (82%)