Description
Eyes the color of a fiery forge look about quizzically, and are shadowed by
thick onyx black eyebrows. His hair is the same color and hangs down to his
arse in a thick tightly braided ponytail.. clamped at the end by a shiney
golden ring. His beard is fixed the same way and hangs down a bit past his
waist with an identical ring clamped at the end. He is of normal size in
stature compared to other Dwarves youv'e seen, reaching about four feet tall,
give or take an inch. His physique is quite hearty and stout with wide
shoulders that connect to a thick neck, and atop sides a large head. His lips
large and a very dark shade of pink, and they sit below a large smashed in
nose obviously misshapen. His face is scarred and weathered and you can tell
he has had at least a patch of prolonged depression in his life. His torso
connects to his waist where two stocky legs seem to connect to the ground,
almost like they were tree roots.
Role
The Beginning
Added Sat Feb 24 16:42:21 2007 at level 1:
He was truly born in Akan, though he refuses to accept it, to a loving
family. His father was the Blacksmith of the town outside of the Mountain,
and his Mother just took care of the house and did a lot of volunteering work
for the city. He grew up around his pops forge, loving the smell of liquid
metal, and hearing the clamor of a sword being sculpted into a fine tuned
killing utensil. He was the favorite of his Fathers three children, being the
middle child.
Most dont know, but Naloril realized it at a young age that the Dwarves
inside the Mountain tend to be timid bigots regarding the ones in the city...
Thinking they were less of a Dwarf and not as wealthy as the great rulers and
leaders inside. Only the elite of the soldiers were able to serve guarding
inside the Mountain and the less skilled, or so they thought, stayed outside.
They looked at flesh though, and knew nothing of a valiant heart.
Naloril lived his life like this until he was thirteen, finding his way
around a forge and just learning the customs and culture his father passed
down to his beloved son. But everything would change more then Naloril could
dream...
The Outlanders, the ones of the Refuge, always would strike the city but
always be repelled. The guards were too much of a force for them to deal with
when those in the Mountain came to aid. But this day was different, the
Harbinger was continuously angered by the incompetence of his men, and
brought every woodsman in the land. The Nightreaver was about too, they had
all heard of the fierce Nreisshe, and knew today would be a different battle.
The Outlanders slayed many of the guards, until the Dwarves retreated back
into the city. They fortified the gates and tried to gather their selves, but
it was quite hard being an invasion was being made by some Duergar inside the
Mountain, occupying the elite guards. The Harbinger called for the King to
solve the situation.. the Outlanders likely would have destroyed the Dwarves
that day if they had known another struggle was already in existence.
The King knew if they did not leave, the city would fall. And the Harbinger
demanded five of the cities young, only then would they leave in reassurance
that a blow would be inflicted on that day. Naloril, his two brothers, and
two male infants were given over to protect the city.. never again has the
city of Akan felt so much pain.
Grace from the Law itself
Added Sat Feb 24 16:53:23 2007 at level 1:
The Outlanders took the five captives to another Tree blessed by Lin-ha..
away from the Refuge, a sect they thought to be secret. They rejoiced at
their recent victory, and held a large festivity celebrating the
embarrassment they placed upon the Dwarves of Akan that day. They began to
slaughter the captives one by one, beginning with the infants. The screaming
cries pierced the ears of Naloril, watching as they cheered the spilt blood
to seep deeper into the earth. And though he always wanted to be with his
Father he still had to watch his two siblings be burnt alive upon their
sacrificial totems.
His torment was the grace that saved his soul, as tears welled in his eyes
and he screamed out "Brothers!", those around turned about to his without
mercy. They decided to keep his life here, as an eternal slave to the
Ancients, and for the good of the Refuge.
This began at the age of fourteen.. he was mocked, made a fool of, and
tortured... Always being degraded by those of the Refuge. He was rarely fed,
kept weak, and chained to the ground. His only release from it all was at
night and they would lower him into a narrow, deep hole and cover it with an
upside down tree trunk.
It was a shock to me, hearing him tell me this all, how he was still mentally
sound, but that just speaks even more volumes of his character.
This continued roughly for twenty years until one evening he was freed. (He
only knew what happened because the Vindicator made sure he was nursed to
health and told him of his journey there as he ate.) The Harbinger was in
grave danger as his body would only withstand one more slaying before his
soul was released to the Ancients forever. After a brutal beating by the
Vindicator, he fled in fear for his life. Mortally wounded he fled to the
secret refuge in desperation, but the Vindicators fine sense of tracking led
him straight there. He arrived and stood over the hole he sensed him in,
ripped the trunk from the covering, and lifted him out breaking his neck
placing the Outlanders in need of a new leader.
Naloril was in shock and did not know what was going on, he knew nothing of
the law or those who upheld it. But the Vindicator knew he was a victim, and
delivered him from safety, carrying him to Hamsah Mutazz and nursing him
to health. The Vindicator was shocked at how long he had been there and
learned much, and Naloril entrusted his life in his hands to tell no one.
His first step of Faith and Trust
Added Sat Feb 24 16:59:22 2007 at level 1:
Naloril lived within the city of Hamsah MuTazz for ten years after he was
delivered to the Sultan by the Vindicator, with strict orders to teach him
the ways of the law, to hone his skills as a warrior and show him the truth
of the evil deeds done to him by the Outlanders.
Naloril had no idea of any of the other professions, and he didnt need to,
he entrusted his life to the one who had saved him. So he accepted his role
as a fierce warrior, and claimed Victory over his own life. He swore he would
show loyalty to the townsfolk until the day he died, that he would rid the
lands of those who wish to bring their buildings down in a crumbling mass of
fire. He learned of respect to his superiors, because they still showed him
love.. a love he forgot and was now rekindled. He vowed to rid the Outlanders
from the lands or die trying, that he would not stop until victory was
achieved.
So he took up his flails which he learned to enjoy swinging so much, and set
foot upon Thera as a free soul, ready to uphold the law, and pay back the
respect and love that was once shown to him.. saving his soul and mind.
No longer a Child
Added Wed Mar 7 16:28:04 2007 at level 30:
After being unleashed into the lands by the Sultan, Naloril began to see how
truly much Thera lacked order, and how crazy he was to of never seen it...
this gave him even more drive, to see that those he put his trust into, led
him down a right path. He continued to hone his skills with his flails as
instructed, and was quite pleased with his guildmasters teachings.
After some time of being exposed to the lands, Naloril was introduced to one
of the Provincial Magistrates, Sir Eoal. He was welcomed into the family, and
givin a home, and continued to be shown love and respect. After he truely
felt the beauty a family that was run by order and just laws, a fire grew in
him so large that did not die out until his death.
He spoke of the countless nights crying into the skies for the Mighty Lord
Zulghinlour, that his flesh was capable.. but that his mind lacked
direction.. and he wished to learn of the great mind the great Overseer
Zulghinlour possessed. It was some time, but those with patience.. are always
rewarded.
As he continued to mature and grow, he could never get rid of the sense of
pride he felt, after making his fellow citizens feel protected. He sense such
a perfect peace within the city.. when law went hand and hand with trust..
and with them knowing that if a criminal was about, Naloril was hunting them
down.
Naloril Nurerg?
Added Sat Feb 24 16:35:30 2007 at level 1:
Ahhh yes, Naloril Nurerg. I remember that burly barrel of explosives. That
Dwarf was like no other Dwarf I ever met in my journeys. Filled with respect
and loyalty, but only to those he deemed worthy. I saw what he did to the
fellows that double crossed him... and you sure wouldnt have thought he
was one of those Dwarves born in Akan.
He knew what it took to inspire, the best part was he rarely did it with
words. He knew what he had to do, what his calling was.. and he made the
sacrifices he needed.. to spill his heart out for the Spire, to give them his
all. He stood for the extremes, you were either with him or you weren't when
it came to business, it was all or nothing.
But like I said, that was one crazy arse Dwarf.. Of all the Dwarven history
recorded, only five were known to ever be betrayed by them, their own kin,
and Naloril just had to be one of them. Those damn Dwarves stand up for their
kin to the death, but he was too scarred from the only exception they were
ever forced to give in to. I know he wanted to forgive them though, and there
were two Dwarves he actually ended up letting at least be in his presence
without leaving before he took his last breath.. he just couldn't forgive
them.
For never having a possession ever as a child.. that bastard sure loved his
booty.. he loved the loot, but his respect toward war overcame his lust for
gold and armament.. but he sure loved to stare at the bloody stuff. I
remember sometimes he would get so damn excited killing somebody, seeing the
bloodied armor.. he would just let a "YAR!" rip though the mountains and run
off like a confused child, not knowing what to do. Usually getting drunk off
his arse and ravishing some tender lamb, he sure loved his lamb.
That tough little bastard sure loved tight spaces too, I couldnt ever
really get myself as soothed as he was in caves and whatnot. But he always
found peace in caves, houses, tight spaces.. he bloody loved them and he
wasnt scared to let you know either.
You sound like you wish to hear a bit more though... I'm on a bloody ramble!
Lets go back to the beginning! To the very beginning..