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Liquidprism
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D&D 3.X: Spear of Fate - Stories and Tales

Post by Liquidprism »

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread to post stories and backgrounds in. This will make it easy on Cheyne, as he can just look them up here. This should probably be just for the newest pathfinder gestalt game. I don't know what its being called yet, but Im pretty sure everyone knows which one Im talking about.

Anyway....
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Liquidprism
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Post by Liquidprism »

Aurelleyon Bowdancer

Aurelleyon was found wandering the forests surrounding the township of Tarn as a small child. His body was battered, and his mind was filled with little more than terrible nightmares. He wandered aimlessly through the dangerous wilds until, by some twist of fate, he was found by an old hunter. The man’s name was Skiner and he lived away from the town proper amongst the trees, and wild things. Skiner took the elfling in, and helped to nourish the small child for several weeks until his body had healed. Once the child was well enough, the old huntsman took him to the village council to see what could be done.

The child was clearly a full-blood member of the elvenkind. Pointed ears, golden eyes, and long features gave testament to that. However, he had no memory of where he had come from. The elders of the council managed to draw from him his name, Aurelleyon, but little more. It seemed his mind was too traumatized, as yet, to delve much deeper.

It was decided that Skiner would take care of the boy for a short time longer while other arrangements could be prepared. Having nothing and no one else, young Aurelleyon went with the older human back to his wooded home. Over the next few weeks the hunter taught the child a few basic survival tricks, which would benefit him should he ever be alone in the wilderness again. To the hunter’s surprise Aurelleyon took up the techniques with surprising speed.

After the weeks had past both child, and hunter were called on by the council. A decision had been reached. They had decided to set Aurelleyon up as a ward in one of the village’s households. Here he could learn a trade, have a family, and come to be a respected member of the community. At first Aurelleyon was distressed, and asked to be kept with Skiner, but the old hunter explained to him that this was for the best, and he would be much happier this way. Seeing the elf child’s tears the hunter promised that Aurelleyon could still visit should he wish. Still sad, but less so with the hunter’s promise, Aurelleyon agreed.

He was put up in the house of the village’s master archer, a finer craftsman, and fletcher did not exist in any of the surrounding kingdoms. The old bowmaster, it turned out was also an elf, and so he would teach Aurelleyon something of his heritage. The bowmaster’s name was Dwillion, and from the moment the two met, Aurelleyon liked him.

Dwillion was a careful craftsman, and also wise about many things. It was apparent that he cared for his ward, and he soon became like a father to the elf child. The bowmaster taught, and Aurelleyon learned. It turned out that the old elf knew just as much about using a bow as he did about crafting one.

During his apprenticeship Aurelleyon often found time to go visit Skiner. In fact it seemed that Skiner, and Dwillion knew each other, and sometimes hunted together, regaling stories of times past. They were an interesting pair. Though they had many things in common they approached things from totally different perspectives. Dwillion was joyful, and Skiner gruff. The elf found amusement in the tiniest things, while Skiner seldom smiled. Despite these differences they shared a passion for nature, and the world around them. They were also, both, exceptional marksmen. Thus, it was not really surprising when Aurelleyon began to surpass his peers with a bow.

As he came of age, Aurelleyon found his calling as a huntsman, and fletcher for the village. His knowledge of the wilds, and ability to disappear into the scenery to were a testament to his quick mastery of his mentors’ teachings. The other youngsters took to calling him Ghost, as much out of respect as amusement. He took this to heart, and was simply glad to be accepted.

Aurelleyon had only one vice, a young elf maiden named Shayallaria who was an apprentice herbalist in the house across to Dwillion’s. Each day Aurelleyon would strive to catch glimpses of her. When she noticed him looking she would smile. The two rarely spoke, as both were shy, but something was blooming between them. Given only enough time the two young elves would eventual find the courage to share something more than the occasional shy smile with one another. Dwillion, of course noticed this, but he left his young ward alone for the time being. Elves lived long lives, and there was no need to rush. Yet, when Aurelleyon had questions he was there to guide, and teach.

This was life. Aurelleyon grew out of childhood learning hunt lore, the artistry of craftsmanship, and the joy, which comes from providing something, and being cared for. He was content, and ever curious, if a bit withdrawn. On rare occasions he would have nightmares, filled with burning fire, and faceless demons. These he weathered, with a kind of stoic sadness, knowing he would probably never truly understand. Each day he could rise in peace knowing Dwillion was there, and Skiner was there, and Shayallaria was there with her smiles.

It seemed life would continue in this vein for a good long while, but little could any of them know that life was about take a hard turn driven by forces greater than anyone of them. Aurelleyon’s courage would be tested, his resolve strained, and only destiny could see the person he would become.
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Ivanovich
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Post by Ivanovich »

Kore Toruun was born to Oriek and Ilde. His father was a soldier and his mother practiced psionics. At an early age he showed talent with psionics and his mother took to teaching him how to focus himself and prepare for the day when she would teach him how to use this power. His father often told him to not listen to his mother so much for one day he would follow him and become a great military leader. His father would attempt to teach him what he knew of combat and how to swing a sword, but Kore paid little mind to what his father had to say. He preferred spending time with his mother.

One day while Kore was out with his father they had a disagreement about what he was learning. Kore stormed off into the forest and his father let him, little did he know that would be the end of him teaching his son. Kore wandered into the woods for most of the morning before getting hungry and noticed that he was lost. To his luck he was found by Nionia Tathdiir, the elder elven druid who called the forest around Tarn home. The druid took Kore to her home and fed him and began talking with the young dwarf about what he was doing so far in the woods.

Nionia soon discovered that even as a child, Kore had an interest in the woods, but his father did his best to discourage this. She talked with the young Kore well into the evening and before they knew, it was dark. The druid promised to help Kore get back to Tarn on the promise that he would come back and learn more from her.

Kore continued to visit on a daily basis and began to learn the ways of a druid. He combined the lessons that he got from both his mother and the druid to become a guardian of both the forest and of the mind. He valued the primal essence of nature, but also the power of the mind. He took these to heart and also gained some valuable lessons from his father, mostly about conflict.

To this day Kore and his father have a tumultuous relationship and often fight about what he is doing with his life. Oriek feels that to be a druid is a waste of dwarf’s natural talents and to be apprentice to an Elf is almost unbearable for Oriek. Ilde is also not happy about having her son learn from the Elven druid, but knows that he must find his own path. Despite his choice, she is still happy that he continues to use what he learned from her. He continues to use some of what his father taught, but much prefers spells and powers to raw brute force.
Last edited by Ivanovich on Sat Oct 24, 2009 8:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Amseriah
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Post by Amseriah »

Ballan Hellrent

Very few people know how Ballan came to live in Tarn, and those who do aren't talking about it to anyone. One morning the wizened cleric Huberon, who had been amongst the original adventurers who established the settlement of Tarn, while praying to Pelor was drawn into communion with the god. Pelor spoke to Huberon of a child who would be brought by a steward. This child would be the reincarnation of the evil warlord Ballan whom Huberon convinced to repent for his sins and crimes before he died and suffered for eternity at the hands of the devil hordes in the 9 Hells. Ballan in a moment of clarity saw clearly all that he had done in his life and began to pray to Pelor and the Celestial Courts to forgive his transgressions. His repentance came too late though and when he died his soul was dragged into Dis. He didn't have a change of heart though, he truly did regret all of his actions in his life and invoked the Pact Primeval to seek audience with the Celestial Courts and, he hoped, gain clemency. Pelor informed Huberon that this child was cleansed of the evil of his former life in both mind and soul, but had to prove himself to the Heavens if he wished to escape from his former Master, this life was his last chance. Huberon called his fellow veterans that afternoon and told them of what his god had told him. They all remembered the atrocities that Ballan had brought to this world, but they trusted Huberon and his faith. Huberon was old and he clearly couldn't raise the child and everyone else had children of their own except for Drangdor Stonecrusher, a dwarven Master of Nine. Drangdor remembered the day that Ballan repented and the look of utter sincerity on his face, and only because of this accepted the child as his charge. That next morning, in the temple an Archon appeared to Huberon and gave him a baby swaddled and crying. He looked at the child expecting to see the beauty of a newborn, and recoiled as he gazed upon a baby whose skin was such a deep red that it appeared almost black, eyes that glowed red like the fires of hell, and a pair of goat horns. The Archon noticed the priest flinch and explained to him that as Ballan had his mind and soul cleansed by Pelor, his new body was twisted and warped by his former Master an act of retribution for the gall of escaping his grasp.

Drangdor quickly grew to care for the child, but knew the challenges that he would have to face in his life. So he raised him the best way that he knew how, like a dwarven warrior. From the moment that he could walk he was groomed for the life of a soldier. It all started out as a game at first, little sparring matches with wooden weapons, but quickly moved to more formal weapons training. He was also taught history, engineering, survival, and tactics everything that a warrior needs to know. Drangdor had a philosophy about the fighting arts, and that is that to truly master a weapon you must know everything about it, including how it was forged, so Ballan was also trained as a weapon and armorsmith.

Socially the people of Tarn treated Ballan with cautious warmth initially, but it was hard to resist his natural charisma despite his appearance. Still to say that he was a serious child would be an understatement. He laughed little, and was extremely driven. He had nightmares nearly every night of being in Dis, devils clawing at him, bolting armor plates onto him only to rip them off, forcing him into the fires of the Hellforge and then hammering at him like he were a piece of steel, and beating him with whips. Each morning he would awake and find no tenderness only more training and warnings that the only way that he could prevent himself from going to the place of those nightmares was to fight for good and justice here.

It was during a solitary training week in the forest to study the way in which various animals fought and defended themselves that everything changed for him. He was trying to mimic the claw strikes of the cornered wolverine with his kukri when he heard an almost otherworldly laugh from behind him. He spun around weapons held at ready when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was clothed in only leaves, grass, and bits of bark, had long flowing blonde hair and piercing green eyes. She was standing no more than 6 feet from him holding two curved sticks as though they were weapons swinging them in imitation of him as though it were a part of a dance, laughing the whole time. He asked who she was and what she was doing. She introduced herself as Il'y'ar, and explained to him quite matter of fact that she was trying to learn his dance. He got irritated and told her that it wasn't a dance, that it was a fighting technique and not a game. She begged him to teach it to her anyway, and he agreed, excited about spending more time around her. He taught her all that day and when evening fell she was so exhausted that she was falling asleep (or so he thought) while he was explaining swordplay to her. He decided that it was time to call it a night and gently picked up the strange young woman and took her back to his tent, covered her up with his blanket and rolled away from her hoping that the cold of the night would drive away his unchaste thoughts. Little did he know that she was not sleeping nor was she tired, one of the gifts of being a fey that sleep is not necessary. She was hoping that he would take her as a lover in her "weakened state" but he was acting like a paladin, but instead of taking matters into her own capable hands she waited until his breathing evened in the rhythm of slumber and communed with the forest. That night she learned of who and what he was, but instead of running in terror away from the Hell-touched boy, her heart broke. She had to teach him that championing causes was not the only way to promote good and make the world a better place, you also can show kindness, laughter, warmth. She was shaken from her reverie very early in the morning with Ballan thrashing around in his sleep muttering and yelling in a strange but foul language. Startled and concerned she gently laid her hand on his shoulder and tried to rouse him. He started at her touch and attacked her punching her in the face, flipping on top of her and raised his fist to hit her again, his face a mask of blind terror and rage. She shrieked and called upon her natural beauty to stun him. He froze and rage and terror were replaced by concern and horror at what he had done. She gently touched her face where he had punched her and felt a bruise already forming, then called upon her heritage again to heal the injury. With her face healed she crawled out from under him, but instead of running and not looking back as he expected, she leaned over him and wrapped her arms around him, her hair falling all around him. She told him that it was just a nightmare and that she was fine and so was he, then she proceeded in calming him down, the best way that she knew how. The two have remained lovers since that night 2 years ago. She taught him how to read, write, and speak sylvan and told her about her kind, the nymphs. He has continued to teach her swordplay, but she still laughs and calls it a dance and not fighting. She also has been working on trying to make him less serious, so that he can actually enjoy and love life and share that with others. On the night before he was supposed to leave to join the mercenary company, The Silver Dragons, Il'y'ar told him to meet her because she wanted to give him something to help him. When they met, she had called dancing lights around them in a circle and invoked faerie fire around herself, her eyes began glowing an unearthly green, she reached out to him, and spoke in what sounded like an ancient form of sylvan. She called upon the lords and ladies of the fey to recognize him as her lover and as such one of their own, she began writing on him with the flowing script of the fey with her finger. Where she touched his skin began to glow and he felt a warm but wild energy flowing into his body and mind. When the ritual was complete the script still glowed but with less intensity, she dismissed the faerie fire and all but one of the dancing lights, and she fell into his arms sobbing. She told him that she just invoked one of the most ancient of rituals to her kind and that other fey would recognize him as a fey as well and that other mortals would sense the natural magic on him as well and that it would put them more at ease around him.

Drangdor knew that he couldn't stay in Tarn his entire life, if he was to find a way out of his fate in Hell he needed to have an active part in bringing good to the world. So he contacted a mercenary company that the veterans of Tarn had worked with on multiple occasions and had good relations with and made arrangements for Ballan to join them after he had completed his training and come of age. Ballan joined up with them a year ago and has just completed his training for the mercenary company and come home to Tarn on leave...

__________________________________________________________________

Sorry it is so long, and I hope that it doesn't sound too incoherent...it is early and I have been working on it for a while....
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Avilister
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Post by Avilister »

Character name: Otho Northfarthing

Like most of the other characters, Otho was born in Tarn, the 9th child and first son of Lotho and Hyacinth of the Northfarthing halflings of Tarn. Coming from such a large family, Otho took on responsibility from a young age and did not, as many other young halflings do, get into a lot of trouble. Though his father was a blacksmith, his family also owned a sizable tract of land, and it was this land he worked with his older sisters from almost the moment he could walk. At age 7, he stopped working the fields and joined his father at the forge. Primarily making items of utility - pots and pans, tools, nails, and the like - Otho also learned to make delicate jewelry and finely crafted utensils. It was these fine wares that Otho enjoyed working on the most, an outlet for creativity that was both useful and profitable.

As many of the children of Tarn did, Otho learned to fight. Emulating the fighting styles of other halflings, he demonstrated quickly that he had no problem fighting dirty. Despite this, he also came to use a fairly rigid fighting style, opting to fight unarmed more often than with weapons. This was noticed by many of the older members of the community and it was recommended that he began a formal apprenticeship as a monk. The demands of the community were too high for him to be able to live in a monestary full-time, so he split his time between his martial training and his work at home. He found that as he learned to hone his body into a weapon, that he grew to enjoy his craft more as well. It provided him with an activity on which he could focus his mind as much as he focused his body on his training.

His training progressed, and Otho develoep something of a reputation as a high-precision individual - he was a very technical fighter, striking quickly and at just the right spot then deftly rolling out of the way of blows. This extended into other areas of his life. His craft and martial training had left him with fingers as nimble as the rest of his form. Noticing this, he was tutored on the side by Kolkin a vetern rogue, often called 'the Black' for his shadowey pursuits and dark humor. Kolkin taught him a bit about mechanical things, how to pick a lock or disable various traps, and how to identify such hazards so he could get the hell out of their way.

As a devout follower of Yondolla, Otho integrated all of the training he'd recieved with his faith. He came to believe that it was his duty to use the training he'd been given to provide for the community via his craft and to defend it with the weapon that was his body.
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jimreaper
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Post by jimreaper »

Character Description + Back Story
Description: 6’5’’
Name: Jin Iden Rothack
(Ji’Rohk) [Father’s bloodline name given for personal addresses from the honorable father to his son]
Son of Je'Rohk who was the son of Ci'Rohk

At some point during there time together, Cik Rothack and Alda Oxana, a pair of grey skinned orcs from a distant forgotten village, began courting. Towards the end of the conflict, Cik and Alda had a child, who they named Jek Rothack (Je’Rohk). Their villages non barbaric philosophy mixed with the strange family environment provided by the vast different number of cultures within the Irregulars forged a unique childhood for Jek. He was raised with a stern but forgiving hand. He had few passions, but the ones he recognized he nourished. Honor, strength, and honesty were the virtues of his life. He had a surprisingly gifted hand in growing, mixing, and harvesting grapes and some other fruits. This became his hobby, and eventually his trade. As he was a younger and more ambitious orc, a young human woman (Julian Aline) began spending her time with him. She called herself June, and acted the title. The heart of a pure-blood orc is not one to writhe poetry, and fall head over heals for anyone; however Jek felt something for June, and it showed in his subtle softness and tolerance of her whim. After some time of informal courting, June surprised Jek with a gift on their way into a neighboring town to sell some of his wine. It was a chain link necklace with an enchanted (to contain a single seed without growing or dyeing as a plant) grapevine weaving in and out of it. Upon doing so, she asked him to marry her. He accepted, and they were united, if not by the law, then by each other.
They first had a set of twin boys, Daragh Rothack (Da’Rohk) and Toal Rothack (To’Rohk). They had one more son 5 years later named Jin Rothack (Ji’Rohk). The first two boys were more rambunctious and orcy than their younger brother. Daragh and Toal were unhappy with the mildness of their parents, and their village, so they tried to cause trouble whenever they felt the opportunity was right. Just as they twins got good at getting the set of brothers into trouble, Jin got good at calming the situation down and getting them out of it. Daragh, the larger of the twins, had a sense of pride in him that lead him to believe he was the leader of his family. Toal followed his “greater twin” in every decision he made, supporting him always. Jin’s mother took notice over his sociability and responsible nature, and helped raise him to be confident in himself, even if he was different than what “an orc should be”. “Passion and courage can be just as useful on the battlefield as strength.” She would say comfortingly as she picked her youngest son up from when the elder ones had picked on him for practicing his music.
The rule of the house, as set forth by the honoring of the orc village tradition, was that after you reach Repuken (adulthood) you must either have found your destiny where you are, or leave to go and seek it. This age ranges from the years of 18 to 24.
Jek (father) turned his passion for grapes and wine into a reality by opening his own vineyard The Enchanted Seed Winery. His unique wine became known locally, as well as in towns in the immediate vicinity. When word reached the village that there is a market for Jek’s wine in some of the neighboring towns, he began sending June (being that she was not an orc) out to the towns to sell and trade the wine.
One day, around the coming of the twin’s 22nd birthday, June (mother) took her sons with her on her route to trade. The caravan they were taking was particularly big, and she thought she could use some help, as well as it would give the twins an opportunity to spend some time outside of the village. When the reached the outskirts of the town they split up, the boys were to take their loads to the border taverns and markets, and June was to bring the larger shipment into the center of the town to the larger and nicer houses and shops. They were supposed to meet back at the outskirts before nightfall the next day. The boys made their sales, and had their fun, and met up at a tavern on the outskirts of town The Polished Tankard. The second day came and went, with no sign of their mother. They stayed at the tavern for one more day, still more afraid of causing problems in the center of town for being orcs than worried for their mother. As the third day’s sun began to retire they decided something was wrong. They decided to flip up their hoods and investigate the center of town in the cover of darkness. Surprisingly, with a little help from Jin’s quick thinking, they get past the guards unrecognized as non-human. The darkness is no impediment to their search, as they peer into the closed markets and windows of the empty beer halls. After a whole nights search they retire back to the outskirts tavern to wait for the cover of darkness of the following day. They sleep the day away, and awake in the night to return to their search. They use the same gate, with the same trusting guard as before and make it into the town easily. As they creep, cloaked by hoods, through the dark town, they are surprised by a group of townsfolk who seem to have been waiting for something. Startled an inn keeper grabs his torch and begins to yell and chase after the cloaked figures. “Run!” Jin yelps to his brothers as they turn to flee from the horde of startled townsfolk. As the assembled humans in nightgowns make chase they shout a series of words in common, that Jin and his brothers will never forget “Vampires! Those are the vampires who killed the Inn keeper! Get them! Get the Vampires!” The clumsy and ill-dressed mobs of commoners are no match for the leg strength of a group of orc-bloods in their prime.
Their mother never returned to them from her trip into town. The twins, in a fit of rage only return to the village long enough to grab their things and say goodbye as they leave on their hatred driven search for their mother. Blinded by their stubbornness Jin is unable to reason them into staying and thinking things through. Jin on the other hand, spends the next few years of his life piecing together this event in his mind. He takes to studying whatever the town has on vampires and other dark monsters. Recognizing this strange and alarming ambition, a traveling man of the cloth approaches Jin one day in his studies. Jin explains his obsession is one seeking understanding and retribution. The cleric opens the door for Jin to research using the religious texts regarding the light and darkness of the world, answering his numerous questions about the different theologies. This new world fascinates Jin. Jin chooses to join the church by the way of his strength and courage. He takes a liking to the philosophies of the Dragon deity Bahamut, while still remembering to be open and accepting of other people’s beliefs. His progression through his studies is faster than even he would have expected. As he completes his training as a warrior of the church, he is of the age of 21 and ready to find his way into the world. It is now time for Jin to seek his future.
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jimreaper
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Post by jimreaper »

Cik (Jin's Grandfather) and the others from the village eagerly joined this strange unit know as Tarn's Irregulars.
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adam
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Post by adam »

Vala Trelor

Vala's birth was a miracle. Estra and Orald, Vala's parents, were hired as guards of a caravan traveling to a distant country far from Tarn. During the long journey Estra became pregnant. On a moonless night, the caravan made camp a little to close to an old crypt. That night, undead attacked the caravan. Estra was severely injured during the attack by zombies. The priest that was traveling with the caravan did all that he could to save Estra. Estra was deathly ill for weeks, clinging to life for the sake of her unborn child. The day that Vala was born was the day that her mother died.

Growing up Vala was a odd child, she was very distant and always sickly looking. Orald taught his daughter the unique fighting style that combined melee attacks and arcane spells. Vala was glad to learn, but she knew that there was some power within her that wanted to be freed.

It wasn't until Vala and her father were guarding a caravan traveling past the same crypt that took her mother did she realize what that power was. It was the secret of the undead. The caravan was attacked a few times during that trip by undead, and each time Vala felt like if she told the skeletons to stop, that they would.

She snuck off one night and found a few undead. Vala snuck closer, but was found out as she stepped on a stick. The skeletons turned in her direction and started to come towards her. Vala held out her hand, and yelled to the skeletons to stop, and they did. The skeletons seemed to have found a new leader in Vala, but Vala knew that she would have to destroy these undead if she would ever want to come back to her father or to Tarn. Vala commanded the skeletons to destroy each other, but during the fight, Vala was struck on the head by a stray blow.

Orald found Vala that morning unconscious next to the remains of two skeletons. Orald hurried Vala to the healer in the caravan. The healer was amazed that her healing magics were having the opposite effect on Vala. The healer consulted her books and questioned Orald about Vala's history. It turned out that Vala was cursed by undead while still in the womb, and that healing magics affected her like the undead. It is a rare thing for that to happen, and Vala knew that is what gave her the power over undead.

It has been a few years since Vala discovered her powers over the undead. Vala has since learned the basics of alchemy from her grandmother. It is interesting to Vala to see what different combination of materials will have what effect.
Out there somewhere there is a Tarrasque eating delicious epic corn waiting to start a journey...
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jimreaper
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Post by jimreaper »

(sometime in the travels to the new city)
After the escape on the day that had set into motion such events that cannot be unheard from the people across the world, Jin found himself questioning his place among his friends. He, who had once believed that a silent and pure approach toward justice, acting only in the light and in the open, was the right way. Was that not what the journal of the traveling priest dictated? Were his scales so different than Jin's heritage? Why would the word of a grand Dragon god not hold true for this world. "Am I not strong enough!?!" Jin screamed out in his head, as he lay in his bedroll. "The strong hand of faith through the melodic tunes of harmony; is that not enough?" his thoughts continued. These thoughts grew and grew in his mind as he thought of the countless dead who he had preached salvation and safety too such a short time ago. His thoughts hovered around the fact that he was unable to protect his kin from danger. As time passed, the darkness the night and his doubt collided, initiating a strange paralytic sleep state as deep as the largest of oceans.

After dreaming of glory and valor, he awoke startled by the silence. By this time there would be some commotion regarding uprooting the camp, and passing out breakfast. Instead of a field of scraggly and hardened faces, Jin saw an empty clearing with a strange dark tree where a familiar fire once crackled. As he approached this intruding tree, he discovered a cloaked figure leaning behind it. Who he expected to be the Demon, or another familiar Tarnian face, was instead a beautiful human woman. Once he realized that she was not someone he recognized, he widened his circular trajectory to be facing her directly from a greater distance. His instincts pulled his hand inches from his sword, but her gentleness stayed his hand. "There is always time enough for words, even for a beautiful woman bearing the skulls of the dead around her neck," he stated at her plainly. Her wordlessness troubled him, but still his hand hesitated. As he waited a response from this jeweled temptress, he squinted his eyes and peered into her spirit; for surely with a robe and necklace of skulls she was a master of the damned in need of judgment. As the results of his search became clear, a quick grin came across her face which directly contrasted the look of surprise on Jin's. "...Impossible... You are not of ill-intention. And yet you bear the mark of the damned. How can this be?" he said with a troubled look on his face. The wrinkles on his face caused by the strange position it was in was almost masked by his dark complexion. As her smile faded, she motioned for him to look at the open space where he once lay asleep.

As she did this, the nearby trees and ground morphed together forming a window into a strange and unfamiliar world. Three figures were before them. The first figure was a dwarven warlord, as depicted by the surrounding clan insignia and matching ring around one his limp fingers. All his strength and honor did him little good when the poison in his cup overtook his nervous system and drained him of his essence. The second figure stood cloaked over the fallen warlord, with a dark grin leaking out of the shadow of his cloak. "Glory wont save you now Durn Broadaxe, lord of wasted coffin space," the dark figure muttered to himself. As he did so, the third figure was forced through the door by a young valorous captain, bearing the tabard of Pelor and a shield depicting a ferocious dragon. The dark figure which was supposed to be watching the door for guards was subdued in moments, allowing the captain of the guard to utilize his surprise to apprehend the surprised assassin. Moments later a handful of other guards bumbled into the bashed door, surprised and out of breathe. After the knives, and several sharp objects had been removed from the cloaked murderers, they were walked outside, bound loosely by rope. "May the light have mercy on your murderous souls," the young Paladin said proudly. When they reached the halfway mark between the prison and the crime scene, a young woman exited a bakery only 10 feet from the criminals. "Durn show you the end of his axe did he, criminal?" she piped up jeering at the assassins with a prideful grin on her face. The first assassin grinned after letting out a mischievous cackle. The guard closest to him swung at him with the hand that was holding the rope. As if he had planned it all along, the assassin used the slack given to him by the foolish guard and took several steps toward the stopped woman. Noticing this maneuver, all of the guards attempted to restrain the criminal, but it was too late. The small blade entered her stomach at a 45 degree angle as if it were piercing only air. As the rope tightened, throwing both criminals and one guard flying backward, the stunned innocent woman fell lifeless to the floor, revealing a small metal point protruding from her back. As the assassin fell to the floor he began to sing jeeringly of the glory of Durn Broadaxe and his perfect choice in women. The young paladin rushed to her side, reciting spell after spell to try and save her. There was nothing he could do, she was simply gone. "What justice is this that allows scum like you the right to live long enough to kill twice?" he muttered under his breathe. "Twice...?" the assassin laughed. "There have been so many... and there will still be," he said spitefully. "May you reap the benefits of the punctured kindness of the judicial system too some day holy man. I await the coming of that day, so that you too may realize how foolish your faith truly is!" the assassin said mockingly.

"Such evil," thought Jin. "What justice allows things like that the chance to continue their practice of malice?" he said. "Is there not a balance that can be maintained? Is it not best to teach non-interference? Where murder is the theft of life, unlawful reanimation would be theft of death. Is that not logical," he said with a strange sense of confidence. Jin then did something he would have never expected. He placed his hand upon the medallion of Bahamut around his neck, and pulled it off. He then willed all of his strength and force back into the force from whence it originated. "May the strength and glory never fade from you, Lord of the Dragon-light," he said. "But, what does a faithless vineyard aid do from here? What help can I be without the strength to protect my brothers and sisters?" he asked without direction. "The balance must be maintained," the dark and beautiful figure from behind him said softly. As he turned to respond to her words, he found only a book and a pendant at his feet. They both bore a similar crest of a ruby colored head. Its face seemed just as dead as it was alive, bearing both the features of the dead and the living.

"May the balance between the realms of the living and the realms of the dead be maintained by the order of Wee Jas, the Ruby Sorceress," Jin said aloud as he embraced the power of his new faith.

Shortly thereafter Jin awoke in his bedroll, surrounded by the kin he once believed to have disappeared. Estranged by his dream, he reached for his holy symbol of the dragon god. "Was it all just a dream?" he thought. As his hand caressed its once familiar edges, he found it to be new and yet accepting to his touch. "Through song and sword will my brothers and sisters be protected and the lives of those that were stolen on that day be avenged."

His words, although new and unfamiliar, gave him peace and confidence. Now he would be able to protect his friends.

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