Post by Gaien on Oct 8, 2004 21:38:10 GMT -5
I am hunting someone I might have called a friend. No, wait. Let me begin my story here...
Though of human stock I was raised by the elves of Tethelin since I was a babe. I never knew my biological parents and I might not have even known life in this world had it not been for the comapssion of my elvish family.
My family was part of a trade caravan on its way to Halas when a party of orcs attacked and killed everyone. My father, at least the elf I call father, was scouting the area at the time when he spied smoke in the distance. He arrived on the scene too late to save anyone and the orcs had gone with all the wealth of the caravan. He was about to turn away when he heard my cry carried on the chill wind.
I grew up learning the ways of the forest and the laws of nature. My mother was always kind and my father taught me everything I know. It wasn't until I was almost 16 until i learned that I had a brother, well a half brother at least.
My first thought of Aramis was that of an elf that danced upon the edge of a knife. His every movement was graceful and fluid, as if he was made of air and water. He was supprised, to say the least, at discovering my presence and even more so at having learned that I was his parents adopted son.
Dispite the fact that our first meeting was quite brisk, Aramis and I became close friends. I soon learned that he was something of a hermit and only wandered into either of the towns to train new guards.
We spent many years together as close as brothers can be. He teaching me the fine arts of swordplay and marksmanship, whilst my father taught me the ways of the wood. In the last few years of Aramis' life he had begun to change. He had always been a hermit but he became intensely reclusive and distant, always hiding his tracks. Try as I might I could never find where it was that my brother would dissapear to.
The night my brother died still brings chills to my spine. I heard a call for the guards, that a dark elf army was near the gates! I grabbed my blade but as I went towards the sound of the call my brother stopped me. He simply looked into my eyes with a gaze of deep sorrow and said, "No, not this night. Stay your blade dear brother. I go to dance with a friend now, but I will return."
He never returned. I discovered later that it had been a single dark elf that slew my brother. I already burned with vengance, but when I remember my brother calling him 'friend', my blood boils all the more.
Now I track this dark elf, nay this beast, in hopes of avenging my brothers death, though this might be a bigger task than I had anticipated. I sit now at the edge of a campfire staring at my enemy, who is just within shouting distance of the pit of hell...
Neriak
Though of human stock I was raised by the elves of Tethelin since I was a babe. I never knew my biological parents and I might not have even known life in this world had it not been for the comapssion of my elvish family.
My family was part of a trade caravan on its way to Halas when a party of orcs attacked and killed everyone. My father, at least the elf I call father, was scouting the area at the time when he spied smoke in the distance. He arrived on the scene too late to save anyone and the orcs had gone with all the wealth of the caravan. He was about to turn away when he heard my cry carried on the chill wind.
I grew up learning the ways of the forest and the laws of nature. My mother was always kind and my father taught me everything I know. It wasn't until I was almost 16 until i learned that I had a brother, well a half brother at least.
My first thought of Aramis was that of an elf that danced upon the edge of a knife. His every movement was graceful and fluid, as if he was made of air and water. He was supprised, to say the least, at discovering my presence and even more so at having learned that I was his parents adopted son.
Dispite the fact that our first meeting was quite brisk, Aramis and I became close friends. I soon learned that he was something of a hermit and only wandered into either of the towns to train new guards.
We spent many years together as close as brothers can be. He teaching me the fine arts of swordplay and marksmanship, whilst my father taught me the ways of the wood. In the last few years of Aramis' life he had begun to change. He had always been a hermit but he became intensely reclusive and distant, always hiding his tracks. Try as I might I could never find where it was that my brother would dissapear to.
The night my brother died still brings chills to my spine. I heard a call for the guards, that a dark elf army was near the gates! I grabbed my blade but as I went towards the sound of the call my brother stopped me. He simply looked into my eyes with a gaze of deep sorrow and said, "No, not this night. Stay your blade dear brother. I go to dance with a friend now, but I will return."
He never returned. I discovered later that it had been a single dark elf that slew my brother. I already burned with vengance, but when I remember my brother calling him 'friend', my blood boils all the more.
Now I track this dark elf, nay this beast, in hopes of avenging my brothers death, though this might be a bigger task than I had anticipated. I sit now at the edge of a campfire staring at my enemy, who is just within shouting distance of the pit of hell...
Neriak
... i think i saw your character on America's Most Wanted last night G 
)