Post by Neo|*|Origin on Sept 6, 2010 19:21:55 GMT 8
I be wakin’ every night to th’ death-curdling cries of me men.
Visions and dreams of th’ massacre on the Scurvy Manta haunt me still...
It has been four years since the raid and I fled inland towards the Greypeak Mountain Ranges, where I hid from civilization and sought refuge to nurse my wounds.
It has also been a year since I have had the honor of having brilliant companions:
-Gond, a skilled fighter with skin as hard as rock (literally) and a worthy partner whom I can count to pair-up against all adversaries, however, also the blabber-motormouth who needed his mouth shut his on many occasions. I do sympathize this poor bilge rat whose irony that of his beloved, whom he had consciously avoided, together with his homeland, had been consumed by the evil of Netheril.
I sincerely hope that this goliath finds strength in uniting all goliaths to reclaim the land that once belonged to them into Gondale fulfilled.
-Mobius, the eccentric mage who has helped kept many enemy numbers in check during our encounters, and whom pitifully relies on stuffing his staff between his legs to compensate for what-seems-like a tiny package he has.
(Why else use a staff when you can use the real thing - if any? Unless he enjoys riding on sticks.... Which I nay be inclined to imagine further.)
-Viona, who has helped kept the party in shape against evil, but queer like the mage, where she once seemingly showed love during an encounter to an abhorrent creature (that nearly bit off her arm) and the weird habit of fiddling with her totem every now and then.
(Alas, to compensate for the goods she doesn't own too?)
Though born in the Seas of Fallen Stars; having been on land for almost half a century made me more attuned to the earth around me.
I have come to realization of my alter-manifestation and have finally attained full control of my being: untamed as I was, like great bodies of waves in the sea – within the raw elemental power I have molded into fearlessness; and stubbornness like mountains I was, I have tapped into the primitive energy of stone and steel to discover - both inner and outer - strength.
I have also grown into this armor that I wear. It speaks to me and spurs me on when I hit at foes, and weakens me when I retreat. I am still grateful for it to have found penchance to me and like all intelligent artifacts I have heard from tales – it will one day leave me to find a new owner. I will be deeply saddened when that day comes, but quid erit, erit, it has its own destiny to fulfill, and I will wish it to find another owner worthy of its powers.
As the long-gone dragonborn, Marmertus, once shared his wisdom in Draconic, “Jiudelbuchi, Sindelbulai”, I hope to find truth in his saying and also wish his soul peace - wherever he is now.
Well, few shadar-kais I’ve met in my journey with my companions, but those foes we encountered, none resembled the ones that raided us.
V’ngeance has not been sought for th’ men I lost.
I be rememberin th’ scars that tore from ye lips to ears.
I be rememberin th’ gold hoop ye have pierced through both your shoulders.
And I def’nitely be rememberin your face.
FEAR! For I be sailin’ all six seas to build my navy, and all over the Realms I will be finding ye, scum - even into the heart of Neth'ril - and when I do - we be burning ye pathetic fleet.
HARRRRRRR![/size]
Visions and dreams of th’ massacre on the Scurvy Manta haunt me still...
It has been four years since the raid and I fled inland towards the Greypeak Mountain Ranges, where I hid from civilization and sought refuge to nurse my wounds.
It has also been a year since I have had the honor of having brilliant companions:
-Gond, a skilled fighter with skin as hard as rock (literally) and a worthy partner whom I can count to pair-up against all adversaries, however, also the blabber-motormouth who needed his mouth shut his on many occasions. I do sympathize this poor bilge rat whose irony that of his beloved, whom he had consciously avoided, together with his homeland, had been consumed by the evil of Netheril.
I sincerely hope that this goliath finds strength in uniting all goliaths to reclaim the land that once belonged to them into Gondale fulfilled.
-Mobius, the eccentric mage who has helped kept many enemy numbers in check during our encounters, and whom pitifully relies on stuffing his staff between his legs to compensate for what-seems-like a tiny package he has.
(Why else use a staff when you can use the real thing - if any? Unless he enjoys riding on sticks.... Which I nay be inclined to imagine further.)
-Viona, who has helped kept the party in shape against evil, but queer like the mage, where she once seemingly showed love during an encounter to an abhorrent creature (that nearly bit off her arm) and the weird habit of fiddling with her totem every now and then.
(Alas, to compensate for the goods she doesn't own too?)
Though born in the Seas of Fallen Stars; having been on land for almost half a century made me more attuned to the earth around me.
I have come to realization of my alter-manifestation and have finally attained full control of my being: untamed as I was, like great bodies of waves in the sea – within the raw elemental power I have molded into fearlessness; and stubbornness like mountains I was, I have tapped into the primitive energy of stone and steel to discover - both inner and outer - strength.
I have also grown into this armor that I wear. It speaks to me and spurs me on when I hit at foes, and weakens me when I retreat. I am still grateful for it to have found penchance to me and like all intelligent artifacts I have heard from tales – it will one day leave me to find a new owner. I will be deeply saddened when that day comes, but quid erit, erit, it has its own destiny to fulfill, and I will wish it to find another owner worthy of its powers.
As the long-gone dragonborn, Marmertus, once shared his wisdom in Draconic, “Jiudelbuchi, Sindelbulai”, I hope to find truth in his saying and also wish his soul peace - wherever he is now.
Well, few shadar-kais I’ve met in my journey with my companions, but those foes we encountered, none resembled the ones that raided us.
V’ngeance has not been sought for th’ men I lost.
I be rememberin th’ scars that tore from ye lips to ears.
I be rememberin th’ gold hoop ye have pierced through both your shoulders.
And I def’nitely be rememberin your face.
FEAR! For I be sailin’ all six seas to build my navy, and all over the Realms I will be finding ye, scum - even into the heart of Neth'ril - and when I do - we be burning ye pathetic fleet.
HARRRRRRR![/size]
