Role
When at first you don't succeed.
Added Tue May 5 08:58:26 2009 at level 51:
By Hamsah Thendrell stopped his journey back to the inn. He had found the
blade, but really what could he do with just a blade? It needed a hilt. He
took a few swigs of ale, and his old mind began to wonder about how a hilt
could not be with the blade. It had been broken afterall. Surely the hilt was
not far, unless it was claimed as a prize by someone. He grumbled, annoyed
with himself for not having been more thorough in his search. So happy he had
been to find the blade by sheer luck he had let it cloud his mind. With a few
swears at his own foolishness, he turned around and began trekking back to
the ruins of the village.
Among the bones, he scoured, and to no avail. The hilt was not with the
blade. He looked over, the throne of bone was still radiating its intangible
aura and images were always dancing along the very edges of his vision. He
looked over again, his sword drawn. He executed a few basic maneuvers, and
then looked at the blade. It had been strong, well forged. Whatever caused it
to break was not simply a cut. It had been destroyed. By what he did not
know. But if that were the case... He looked over at the throne again. The
pieces could have ended up anywhere. And maybe it was the blade sent flying,
not the hilt. Which would mean. Would mean that the fight actually occured at
the throne, not before it.
He approached it, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he approached the
throne. The energy was in the air itself, a tension keeping him on edge. The
visions were still flashing, but he moved closer. The area was clear, except
the pedestal and the throne. He looked over the pedestal, admiring the
dwarven runes, but found no mechanism to open it. No such time for such in a
fight he thought. Then he looked to the throne, an assortment of bones piled
together. Among them, a large dragon's skull. Just large enough.
A little grin crept across his face. He approached and pried open the jaw,
not half surprised to find the hilt of an ancient sword inside it. An easy
place to stash what you would not want found. He pulled it out, comparing it
to the blade. A match. He now had both pieces. Ysaloerye had wanted both, not
just the blade. He realized now what was to come. A true test of his forging
skill. To reforge what had been destroyed. He would go to Ysaloerye again,
this time knowing he was closer than ever to proving his ability at the forge
to the paragon.
Weathering the storm.
Added Mon May 4 08:51:18 2009 at level 51:
A tiny hummingbird came out first, pecking away and drawing the attacks of
Matlahalia and Thendrell. Almost instantly claws began raking across their
bodies, Tameron's favored form standing behind the distractions of the
hummingbird. Thendrell and Malthalia grinned, each seeming to enjoy the
conflict against the mages. Not long into the fight, the hummingbird began to
tire, constant evasion was taking its toll, and it was not entirely
successful at avoiding the fevered strikes of the two. It would not be long.
The hummingbird would likely fly out of the battle, blood pouring from
numerous wounds.
Thendrell and Malthalia's efforts soon overbore the hummingbird, and it flew
from the battle, too close to death Thendrell figured. A quick side glance
and he swung his katana across and knocked back the lions claws. A quick
series of moves in responce and he landed three powerful strikes on the lion.
He was bloodied, as was Malthalia, but it had become two against one.
Malthalia's songs blasted through the lion, while Thendrell's blade, now
focused, began parrying the lions strikes and returning them with greater
ferocity. The battle was over. He knew it. There would be no escape this
time. Tameron would fall, Malthalia's songs echoing in her ears as the flash
of Thendrell's steel across her body landed the killing strike.
The two looked at the corpse of the lion. There would be no touching or
destruction of the possessions. Tameron had fought honorably, to the end.
Malthalia and Thendrell agreed, for a mage she was at least brave enough to
fight to the end. And that was something they both could at least respect.
They returned to the village, and smiled at one another. The bard and paladin
had weathered the storm of evil. A shame they only managed to slay one of
their attackers they joked, but both knew they both could have been slain,
and it was the efforts of each other that allowed them their victory.
Malthalia gave a nod as Thendrell left the village. She had a good hunt,
which was all she seemed to really enjoy outside of her absinthe. Thendrell
nodded back in agreement. The bard. A fearless warrior as strong as any he
knew. No odds deterred her from the battle, and seldom did she walk with any
when she struck. She took the scepter to make those that had feared her come
to her. He chuckled as he walked away. He had the feeling this would not be
the last time the two joined forces, and he looked forward to the next fight
they were in. Win or lose, he knew they would both revel in the fight itself
more than the outcome.
The Assault of the village.
Added Mon May 4 08:07:37 2009 at level 51:
Tameron. He had no doubt the scion was near, attempting to retrieve the
scepter. Thendrell smiled. He could at last slay the mage, for she had little
she could do without the powers the scepter bestowed. However, a minotaur
arrived as well, and as Malthalia fought to defend the village the call he
had awaited came. To aid her. To join the fray and destroy them with her. A
blood lust overcame Thendrell, and he waded into the battle, going right for
the minotaur. He would be the bigger problem. In short order the wave was
repulsed. The minotaur and Tameron both fled for their lives. The village was
safe. For now. Malthalia settled down next to Thendrell, a few songs settled
his nerves as they drank the Absinthe Malthalia was so fond of. He gave her a
grin, and a comment on the virtues of superior dwarven ale. And they enjoyed
a laugh, though both knew the tide of evil was still coming for them.
Tameron made repeated efforts, but alone she seldom got close enough to
recover the scepter. And each time, she ran before she was close to being
slain. Mages. Always quick to flee. Tameron then seemed to depart, perhaps to
gather a bit more strength before trying again. However, the imperials at
least had ceased coming, a young one had managed to obtain the codex back.
And with no need, the minotaur now had little reason to come. And indeed
would likely lose his life if he did. But it was then the vindicator's
approach he sensed, and here Thendrell was bound not to intervene. He did not
interfere with the spire's execution of its duties, and Malthalia asked not
for his aid in dealing with the duergar who came. A shaman. Fairly weak in
Thendrell's opinion, for they had dueled many time and Thendrell knew well
how to best him. Or, at least to chase him off. But that fight ended soon as
it began, Matlahlia under a wasting disease and the duergar fleeing from his
fears. Neither would fall though, and the hours passed as Thendrell and
Malthalia waited for the scions to return. Another had awoken, and now they
would both be coming.
Prelude to the battle.
Added Sun May 3 08:21:05 2009 at level 51:
Thendrell wandered among the dwarves of Akan. It was quiet, peaceful. Most of
the adventurers who caused trouble in Akan would leave at his presence.
Thendrell smirked a little. Of course those that didn't were encouraged to by
other means. But he was somewhat relieved that the citizenry could enjoy a
little peace when he was around. Tameron's victory was still fresh in his
mind though. And try as he might he could not lull the mage out long enough
to repay the favor. The thought of her having gotten the better of him, even
in such a situation, angered him. Not for the defeat, but because he was too
old to be so damn foolish. He would get his revenge though, if for nothing
more than to prove to himself he could.
Was then that Malthalia arrived, as skilled a mage slayer as Thendrell had
known. The two had developed a bit of respect for one another, Thendrell for
her ability to stay ever strong in her convictions and place in the village,
and to no small extent for her sheer prowess in battle. He could not say how
he came to be favored by Malthalia though. Maybe it was the aid he always
offered her, maybe it was his service to Ysaloerye, or their mutual dislike
of magic. Spawned from different reasons, but a common bond. Thendrell's life
did not revolve around the slaying of all magi though, but Tameron's recent
victory still gnawed at him. And Malthalia knew it. More importantly, she
knew what to do about it, to lull the scion out of her hiding.
In no time they had agreed to head to the desert, to try and lure the scion
to them. The archmage fell pathetically quickly to their combined efforts.
Tameron had tried to aid his defense, but was far too badly overmatched, and
fled. The scepter went to the village, Malthalia alone to guard it, along
with the imperial codex she acquired earlier. Thendrell took a step outside
the village, and looked around. The vindicator Nidblot was wandering the
realms, no doubt searching for Malthalia (her zeal in mage slaying knew no
respect for the spire's laws). Tameron would not likely sit by and allow the
village to keep the scepter. And the imperials had begun to assemble, their
arrival Thendrell knew would be sooner intead of later. He looked back at the
elven lady, calmly having a few drinks and tuning her lute. He smiled.
Nothing but a small grin was on her face, for she knew the battle would be
brought to her. She'd have it no other way.
He turned his gaze back to the ruins. The tingling of evil crept over him.
Someone was near. He sensed it. And he sensed others not far behind. Of the
light only Thendrell and Malthalia stood, and the evil in Thera was growing.
It was unlikely they would not come for them both. He would not intervene in
the village's defense if she did not ask, but he knew his presence alone
might draw some to him, and that might ensure victory. He asked Ysaloerye
for her blessing, and awaited the coming evil.
Thendrell and the lion.
Added Fri May 1 20:08:01 2009 at level 51:
The felar, a peculiar one to be sure. Thendrell ran his hands over a few
markings on his armor, marking left by that same felar, who happened to come
at him in the form of a massive lion. Not too tough he thought to himself. He
closed his eyes as a few of the wounds healed on his body. She had been
there, when flimbert came to him. When Flimbert was driven away. Thendrell
chuckled. That scion failed to bring me down, and fled before I could land
the killing blow. But Tameron, she did not aid, though together surely I
would have been over matched.
Thendrell shook his head. Had I been more vigilant he thought, perhaps I would have
noticed she had not left with him, but just waited to pounce, and did so when
he was otherwise occupied. But he drove her off none the less, the Felar's
voice trailing off in his mind. 'A wicked wicked Dwarf' she had called him.
He smiled. Only bad thing of that was that two evil mages had eluded him, but
he knew they would try again, and he would be ready. Turned out only Tameron
would. Repeatedly.
In the time that followed Tameron and Thendrell fought many times, very
rarely did either fight get close enough for one of them to fall. A mage. A
scion mage. She could elude the wrath of Thendrell's blades, and though he
was confident he would win all their encounters, chase her off at worst, her
perseverence in her attempts he grew to begrudgingly respect. She was
tenacious. He could not deny her that. And her sense of humor, well, he often
found himself stifling chuckles at her remarks. How they could become the
most powerful pair, and rule over Thera. He laughed again. Ysaloerye's Mason,
a paladin, and a scion mage, ruling together. The possibility of them ever
not attacking each other on sight was non-existant. Ysaloerye would have
struck him down had such an offer ever been anything but laughed at in
response, but he knew better, and indeed, did enjoy a chuckle at the
impossibility of her suggestion ever coming to pass. Though he had to admit,
they both despised they imperial, and so they had at least one thing in common.
Then the day came, the onyx tower, Thendrell rested weakened and under the
imbued prowess of battle, worn from his fight with the dark priest. Two
slashes across his back. The lion. Tameron. She had found him. Weakened. With
no way to move or leave. He smirked, as claws raked across his body through
his counter slashes. He would fall. He knew that. But he would enjoy this
little fight at least. And so he fought with what strength he could muster,
and fell to the lion. But this would not be their last encounter. He knew
that. And as he regained his form, he knew just where to go to begin planning
his revenge on his respected foe.
The lady's dwarf (Apparently)
Added Fri May 1 15:48:12 2009 at level 51:
Ah the women, an odd occurence Thendrell began to realize, that in his life
most of those important or close to him have been female. Of course the
Paragon came first, though her any that called her lady-like or proper were
more likely to have a pissed off boot in their ass than to be thanked.
Thendrell chuckled, imagining how bad Ysaloerye would punish anyone mistaking
her for the typical female. There was too much that could be said of
Thendrell's affinity and devotion to the Paragon, and there was no need to
recount such in his mind, for he lived each day with that fervor in his
blood. With her will coursing through his veins.
No it was not Ysaloerye, at least at the moment, that drew his attention. It
was the others, three came across his mind in particular that lately had
taken influential positions in his life. Two of them were elves, though they
could not be more different. The third, a felar, and in most any respect the
antithesis of Thendrell's own views. These three women, they would each bring
forth memories in thendrell, things he cherished more as he has grown older.
As he sat back in the chair by the hearth, Thendrell began to recall his
memories of each of them in turn.
Ailinilia, Cardinal of the Fort, Malthalia Alves, Mageslayer of the village,
and lastly, the peculair felar, Tameron T'Chalak, a scion mage. Each brought
forth a distinct thought and influence upon Thendrell's now long life.
There had been others of course, many of them were men, that had he
been proud to stand beside, like Nian And Unalethekai, the many
seekers of the paragon's favor he had started on their paths. He was even
known to speak with the Commander of the village upon time to time, but it was these
three women, that at the moment, occupied his mind and thoughts.
Among the ruins.
Added Mon May 4 11:45:31 2009 at level 51:
An ancient work of the dwarves in the ruins of the former home of the battle
ragers. Ysaloerye suggested such would be found there, an example of dwarven
craftmanship. All too happy to go forth and find this Thendrell set out,
recalling what he had of the former home of the ragers. The forests, the
subcontinent. The break from the road was not hard to find, but the opening
always escaped his eyes at first glance. Not this time. There it was,
something he could squeeze through. Inside, the air itself was still. A mound
of bones sat nearby, and with hands at the ready, Thendrell approached.
Inside a scene of what must have been the home of the battleragers awaited,
though its use seemed long since abandoned. The Throne of Bone, echoing its
hunger for skulls of the fallen in a voice Thendrell could have sworn came
from the heavens itself. Thendrell's hands gripped his sword as he
approached, images flashing and disappearing. The village, destruction laid
upon on by some mage it seemed. The earth itself almost retained the hatred
of magic, and called for revenge. But the phantoms seemed to be just that, as
they manifested they just as quickly faded from view. Thendrell ran his hands
over the throne, and the nearby pedestal. Something had been there, but long
before his time it likely had been removed. The orb perhaps, it being
destroyed by that mage was the last image he saw.
He looked at the weapon racks, and the granite. A forge had been here, no
doubt weapons for the villagers. But dust made it clear, nothing was left. A
little search, but nothing was revealed. No armor. No weapon. No work of the
dwarves. Ysaloerye might have misled him he thought. For a half second. The
Paragon did not waste time on foolish errands. Everything had its purpose. If
he was to find something, he would find it where she said. He walked back
from the throne, among the bones ground into the earth.
Thendrell's foot caught one such bone, and his dwarven agility did little but
give him time enough to voice out a few choice swears before his face smashed
down on the ground. He got up, running his hand over his nose. When he pulled
it away, he realized it was bleeding. A bit too much for such a fall alone to
cause. He looked down, expecting to see a shard of bone, which he would
promptly destroy. Instead he noticed something, a glint from something in the
ground. He looked deeper, removing bone, and there it was. An ancient blade.
Broken at the hilt, which was still missing. It's quality was amazing.
Thendrell chuckled and rubbed his nose, thanking the paragon for his
fortuitous fall and for not being born an elf that would have managed to
catch himself before hitting the ground. With blade in hand, he began his
trek back to the inn, to see what Ysaloerye might know of his discovery, and
where she might next lead him.
The coffinmaker's aid.
Added Wed Oct 8 10:17:50 2008 at level 8:
I came across Galadon's coffinmaker today, seems he had a problem with
undead corrupting the nearby graveyard. He paid me for each i slew, and gave me a shroud
as compensation for my help. I could not accept such rewards however, as the undead
are a vile taint on this world that i would have removed anyway. I returned the shroud to him, and
will use the silver he paid me to keep in reserve in case I come across any poverty stricken person
in need of coin. I now look to the Voralian city to see what good I may do there.
Combat
Added Thu Oct 9 09:54:23 2008 at level 9:
Having spent a little time in Thera, it has become clear that the sphere of Combat
is the only one suited for a dwarven paladin. As a dwarf, my ancestry is built
upon stone and steel, upon putting them to good use. About mastering them both.
In combat, i have found a balance I need as a paladin. Helping the coffinmaker has
shown me that not all conflicts can eb avoided, that we all must fight eventually. The difference
lies in the reasons for why we fight. Some for power. Some for glory. Some for pleasure. The reaons all
vary, but in the end we all fight. And so must I, but my reasons are not for personal reasons.
I fight simply to protect those unable to fight for themselves. Everyone has their battles, but
but not everyone has the ability to fight them. And so others must fight for them.
Those who fight without reason, or for personal gain, have not found the true meaning of combat.
Combat is a celebration of being alive. There is no moment of feeling more alive then when engaged
in battle. Even though I am a paladin, i find joy in battle. For I do not seek battles that need
not be fought. I fight with a purpose. For a purpose. And in those battles I have come to see
the purity of my self in those battles. I can not deny the dwarven blood in me that yearns
for battle and glory, but I can learn to temprance it by fulfiiling that need only
with battles for the right causes. And in the battle there will be glory, not in the victory.
And if my causes be worthy, I am faithful my god will bless me with his protections,
as I further his will throughout all of Thera.
First Prayers
Added Thu Oct 9 12:57:21 2008 at level 9:
Having attempted to commune with Ysaloerye and not receive a response, I can only
conclude that my efforts thus far are ignored because I am not yet worthy of her blessing.
I shall strike out again, and in glorious combat prove that I am worthy of her blessing.
A dwarf knows of resolve, and to be instantly rewarded is not the way of dwarves. We craft and forge
and make what we will of the world, but this takes time. And so my devoition
must also take time, and as I grow stronger I shall try once more to prove my worth to Ysaloerye.
Ysaloerye's Blessing
Added Tue Oct 14 12:22:48 2008 at level 11:
I have been empowered by Ysaloerye, and have been posed a question to answer upon our next meeting.
The Paragon was an impressive figure, and in her service all my deeds shall
be done.
I have sworn to abstain from all things magical, as her powers are all that
a true dwarf should ever have need for. And so I venture out into Thera, seeking
an answer into her question. She has said that Smiths have a forge which
be the fire of their craft. My question is what be the fire of a stonemason.
In my travels I shall seek out to answer this question. And when called to, present my answer to the Paragon.
The encounter has also left me with a stein, which is the only vessel i shall ever drink from.
And so I venture out, to earn the powers I have been given, and to learn the way of the stonemasons.
My answer for Ysaloerye
Added Fri Oct 31 12:09:03 2008 at level 18:
If a forge be the fire of a Smith's craft, then it is to me to determine what be a stonemason's forge.
A stonemason needs no forge though, they need only the earth itself, and their hands to mold it with.
It be the strength of their hands which shapes the earth, their stone will that allows their hands to do that shaping.
That be the fire of the stonemason, The stonemason's hands and the earth itself.
The forge allows the smith to shape the iron, but the stonemason's will and hands are all that is needed to
shape the earth. In the cavern of The paragon's Inn is that made clear, as all the
statues bear a level of detail that could only be made by the hand itself, not a chisel or hammer.
That be the skill of the stonemason, their forge, it be their hands, the strength of their hands to mold
stone as they see fit, to master the earth with their own hands and nothing more.
On my next encounter with the PAragon, I shall discuss my views with her, in hopes that I have answered her
question in a manner she deems fitting. If not, back into Thera I'll venture, to further ponder her
question, maybe with a few of my fellow dwarves over some good stout ale.
Overcoming Silence
Added Tue Dec 23 12:57:29 2008 at level 25:
I banished one minotaur to the abyss today, a disgusting creature
that was ransacking and attacking the dwarves of Akan. My home.
I only regret I could not kill the other warrior with the beast, but he was still safe from my
wrath. For now. However, in the heat of battle and with that adrenaline flowing through me veins, I
found words escaping my lips. It seems the lust of battle takes control of me and not even
a resolute paladin of dwarven ancesetry can overcome the thrill of battle and maintain silence.
However, I follow the way of Combat and Earth, and I find that the best manner of preaching
to the wicked is through smiting them and showing them the power Ysaolerye bestows on the worthy.
And so I find that my vow, which I still strive to adhere to, must give way in the excitement
of combat and while adrenaline still pumps through my veins.
Only by preaching the glory of Ysaolerye to those I defeat will others be
made aware of the strength of the Paragon, mightiest of the immortals.
The second inquiry
Added Mon Jan 5 11:18:25 2009 at level 27:
To understand what it is to hold a grudge, that be the inquiry
which I must ponder and put forth to the Paragon as I next find her.
It was indeed the fire, the fire within a mason that burns so
bright that not earth nor steel can with stand it, which is at
the core of being a mason. But as a paladin, that fire inside me must be channeled,
the rage and passion which fuels that fire must be put into eradicating
all which is tainted from the realms.
I go forth with this in mind, to destroy the vile and wicked of this realm
to prove that my convictions go beyond mere words.
The tainted and wicked shall be dealt with, and know that the fire within me
shall be that which calls for their destruction.
The Thistletone name.
Added Wed Jan 28 09:14:36 2009 at level 51:
What's in a name?
Thendrell Thistletone, a dwarf born to the fourth generation of a disgraced
dwarven family. Dwarven memories are long, and his family name remains shamed
from their failings so long ago.
9 duergar raiders struck Thendrell's Ancestor's village outside Delar Tol,
where the Stone family was charged with its defense. But the Stones were
defeated, though 7 of them guarded the village. Only by the aid of a passing
mage were the duergars repelled, a single spell scattering their corpses
among the mountain side. Of the Stones, all 7 survived their injuries and
were left to live out lives stripped of any duties to defend for their
disgrace. Further, the elders changed their name to a more fitting one.
Stone remains a part, as a reminder of what once was, but without the 's'
because they were an insult to very earth and stones in how quickly they
crumbled under the attack. Thistle was added because the enemies went through
them as if they were but mere reeds, easily brushed past, without having to
be struck down. And thus the Thistletones have since sought to redeem their name.
Thendrell came to learn of his family's lost honor as soon as his young mind
could grasp what it meant. Like all others in the family he seeks only to
restore it. Not as a warrior, but as a paladin, by following Ysaloerye's
guidance and revelling in combat where he could, for the paragon's strength
was crated through her own will.
Thendrell did not hate magic, but more sought to prove that a dwarf did not
need magic to be strong. It was not the mages he had a problem with, for a
paladin lets all live their lives as they wish, so long as their heart be not
wicked. His problem with magic was that he held a notion that people believed
a dwarf's own strength and faith was somehow inferior to spells and mages.
He would travel with mages, if they were pure of heart, but accepted no aid
from them. He always sought to outdo every mage he travelled with, to fight
along side them so that they could marvel at his battle prowess, and realize
dwarven will could trump any spell.
Now, he has mastered the guild of the paladins, and has begun trying to more
fully understand what it means to be a true dedicant of Ysaloerye. And to
that, he has been tasked with discerning something worthy of sculpting. For
he is still but an apprentice mason, and his hands have not mastered the
arts. And before he can craft, a worthy subject must be sought and found.
Something that embodies the true strength of the dwarves. Their tenacity.
Their will. Perhaps, if he crafts something worthy, his family might regain a
shred of their lost honor, and his life will not have been for naught.
Becoming a Mason.
Added Wed Feb 25 10:56:02 2009 at level 51:
After some time I have finally proven my small worth to the paragon, and
crafted a statue which embodies the inherent rage of all dwarves. My efforts
in the service of the paragon bestowed me with her mark, an honor a dwarf
could dare hope to earn in a thousand years. However, though my hands bear
now the skills and fire to mold the earth, and I have become a full
stonemason, there is more which I must do. The Paragon's will be not
fulfilled and so my work and redepmtion of my family be not complete.
The Paragon instructed me thusly, that all magic, not just spells and pill,
should be refrained from. That I have since complied with, sacrifing all that
I had in her name, and all that I come across is given to Tahren to be
properly removed from the realm. Also no mage may travel in my company, nor
shall her gifts be used for their aid. The Paladin's code is thus subject to
her will, as it always has been and always shall be.
However, abstention of magic is not all the paragon asks of me, she also asks
that I eradicate the foes of all dwarven kind at every opportunity, be they
spire or not her wrath for her enemies shall flow through me and be levied
upon them. Every orc and duergar I come across shall know that the paragon
wishes their destruction, and that I be her instrument to carry it forth in
thera. Be they Spire or Village, young or old, it matters not, they all shall
be come to fear the dwarves marked with the star-shaped scar.
Perhaps if I perform as she wishes, she might hear my thoughts of securing
better guards for Akan, as I have been saving copper and taking donations for
my services at the forge and elsewhere to better equip and train some dwarven
guards for the city. My family failed once, and though I might redeem them,
my life will not be eternal, and so the securing of better defenses for Akan
in my absence remains of the utmost importance to me as well.
To the forge of the Paragon.
Added Fri Mar 6 12:23:21 2009 at level 51:
I have become the Mason of the Paragon, an honor I did not think possible for
a dwarf of such poor heritage. However, devotion to her will has led me to
become the highest of all mason's to serve her, and so now I seek to become
the Voice of the Paragon. Mastery of the earth, lengthy as it was, was not
all there is to truly follow Ysaloerye. I turn now to the forge, the other
area of which all her followers must choose between. So as I did as a mason,
I begin again at the forge, learning the skills and sharpening my mind. As
before, I must learn and reply to the Paragon's questions.
I am to visit the forges of Thera, to find the type of stone favored by
smiths. Once I have discerned what it is, I am to ponder why it is favored as
such. Being a mason, such might prove difficult, as all manners of stone have
unique properties, each which give them their own value. I shall ponder the
paragon's query and give her my answer when I am best able though, as
learning all I can of her teachings drives me onward, as it always has, as it
shall always continue to. In redeeming my name, I can think of no better way
than to have the Paragon's blessing and speak with her voice, as her thoughts
and words be in tune with that of all true dwarves.
The Mason's reflections.
Added Fri May 1 14:41:11 2009 at level 51:
A once vibrant dwarf, now aged and grayed, slumps down against the walls of
the Paragon's cavern. Thendrell, Mason of the Paragon, sheathes his blade and
rummages around picks up his tankard of ale. A nice tankard to be sure, but
not like the one the paragon gave him when he first met her he thinks to
himself. His free hand goes over his belt's ever empty loop he scratched the
paragon's mark into, where the tankard used to rest. His eyes dart about the
cavern and the various masons going about their tasks. A good place to rest.
A few drinks of ale and his mind begins to wander, maybe they ale's effect,
maybe his old age, he can't be sure why it does, but he finds himself just
lost in thoughts more often these days.
Much has changed since he came to the Inn, seeking redemption of his name. He
had mastered the art of the Mason's, had even studied at the forge with
Ysaloerye herself (an experience he thought might cost him his head when she
first swung that forged blade at him) and perhaps he could have gone further.
To become her voice in Thera. But perhaps not he muses to himself. Even now,
there will still be much to learn, and his mind grows weary often. Rage. She
had asekd him about rage, an inflection in her gruff voice about how the
balance of a well crafted blade somehow related to it.
The balancing of the rage inside us all. Not too difficult to guess at the
importance of keeping one's own rage in check, allowing it to be controlled,
and indeed harnessed when needed. But he held his tongue, he would keep his
views from the paragon until such time as she asked for them. There was still
fire inside him, enough to push him forward and fuel him in his work to
continue bringing new people into the Paragon's service. Enough to continue
molding earth, and crafting steel. Enough to.... hells. He took another swig
of ale. Who was he trying to convince anyway he wondered, and with that he
dragged his ass off the floor , unsheathed his blade and went out into the
light, to see what might get his old heart beating a little faster that day.
Silence
Added Tue Oct 7 15:05:00 2008 at level 1:
The paladin's code governs my life, of that there is no question.
However, my sphere and my race are almost as important, and so
I have taken a vow never to speak to anyone who does not follow my same sphere
or who is not a fellow dwarf. While the code binds me to service and honor, I must
reconcile that with my vow never to speak to people outside my sphere or race.
I shall still always assist those who require or ask for my help, as all paladins would.
However, my vow of silence means i will do so without giving any indication to them that i
am coming if they be outside my race or sphere.
I have learned to communicate through gestures with non-dwarves and people outside
my sphere, as my voice is reserved for those as righteous as myself, which are all dwarves
and non-dwarves of my same sphere. I have nothing against other spheres or races, and will
adventure with and assist them as I can, but speech is not necessary and so
my voice is reserved only for those who are worthy to hear it.
My vow of silence and purity thus made, I set out into Thera to help where I may
and aid all those who need it. And in doing so, I shall uphold the honor of the dwarves and the paladins both.
PK Wins
Dec 12, 2008|Lv 22|Arkham|Iegob vs 3: Minvak (39%), Thendrell (12%), Lletonkel (48%, KB)
Dec 12, 2008|Lv 22|Forgotten Crypts|Iegob vs 3: Minvak (71%), Thendrell (12%, KB), Lletonkel (16%)
Dec 23, 2008|Lv 25|Akan|Yoresh vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Jan 12, 2009|Lv 38|Graveyard|Iktul vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Jan 22, 2009|Lv 45|Mount Calandaryl|Ikda vs 3: Thendrell (65%,KB), Barakhnazull (17%), Malthalia (16%)
Feb 6, 2009 |Lv 51|Akan|Urgok vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Feb 6, 2009 |Lv 51|Voralian City|Urgok vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Feb 22, 2009|Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Urgok vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Feb 24, 2009|Lv 51|Desert of Araile|Gollywyn vs 1: Thendrell (100%,KB)
Mar 11, 2009|Lv 51|Outskirts of Galadon|Kjrorh vs 2: Flaire (33%), Thendrell (66%, KB)
Apr 29, 2009|Lv 51|Domain of Eternal Night|Tameron vs 2: Thendrell (46%), Malthalia (53%, KB)
Apr 29, 2009|Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Tameron vs 2: Thendrell (70%,KB), Malthalia (29%)
May 5, 2009 |Lv 51|Domain of Eternal Night|Lirieleth vs 2: Thendrell (48%), Humbert (51%, KB)
May 7, 2009 |Lv 51|Outskirts of Galadon|Khaan vs 4: Ariel (4%), Araevin (11%, KB), Thendrell (49%), Aeranir (34%)
PK Deaths
Oct 18, 2008|Lv 13|Voralian City|vs 2: Obdiah (63%), Kassibaz (36%, KB)
Oct 24, 2008|Lv 15|Hamsah Mu'tazz|vs 1: Zalphidar (100%,KB)
Jan 21, 2009|Lv 41|Whitecloak Encampment|vs 1: Cyrn (100%,KB)
Jan 24, 2009|Lv 47|Aran'gird|vs 1: Mreash (100%,KB)
Jan 24, 2009|Lv 47|Ar'atouldain|vs 1: Zizzle (100%,KB)
Jan 25, 2009|Lv 47|Mount Calandaryl|vs 1: Booorstone (100%,KB)
Jan 26, 2009|Lv 48|Eaststride Road|vs 1: Urgok (100%,KB)
Jan 29, 2009|Lv 51|Akan|vs 1: Satebos (100%,KB)
Feb 8, 2009 |Lv 51|The Battlefield|vs 1: Gollywyn (100%,KB)
Feb 8, 2009 |Lv 51|Voralian City|vs 1: Urgok (100%,KB)
Feb 22, 2009|Lv 51|Akan|vs 1: Urgok (100%,KB)
Feb 26, 2009|Lv 51|Akan|vs 1: Satebos (0%,KB) *Power Word Kill*
Mar 11, 2009|Lv 51|Akan|vs 1: Satebos (100%,KB)
Mar 27, 2009|Lv 51|The Arena|vs 1: Dolce (100%,KB)
Apr 29, 2009|Lv 51|Onyx Tower|vs 1: Tameron (100%,KB)
Apr 30, 2009|Lv 51|Bramblefield Road|vs 1: Ahtieli (100%,KB)
May 1, 2009 |Lv 51|Domain of Eternal Night|vs 2: Tameron (48%), Dierj (51%, KB)