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Thorm the Half-Giant Paladin-Thief

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It was Thorm's turn to stand watch, along with Meldrake. Scouts had spotted raging hoards of Trollocs in the area searching for their once prisoner, Suna. Suna carries a secret with her that she will only share with the wise ones. A secret she claims can forever seal the dark one in his tomb. She was to be disposed of until Thorm and a select other few assassins of a highly secret guild joined forces to rescue her from her dark fate. One could only imagine the horror a beautiful child such as Suna could experience in the hands of myrddraal and trolloc minions.

"Thorm, do you have anything to eat besides turnips and bread in your little pouch there?" asked Meldrake.

"In the name of the creator would you stop thinking about food for once. We have a job of such great importance and if we were to fail, I would see to it myself that you be starved to death. A fitting ending for you, don't you think."

"It just that I'm so hungry I could eat roasted trolloc right now. Do you think Suna has any thing good in her tent to eat? I could just sneak in and nobody would know."

"Shhh!"

"It was only a question. You don't have to get so bloody protective over her. You really need to relax and..."

"Shh. Did you hear that?"

"All I can hear is my stomach growling."

"There it is again. Quickly, wake the others. I think we have company. I'll stay here at the entrance of Suna's tent."

Meldrake began wakening the others, moving with a grace through the night unmatched by many. Meldrake was still at a position in the guild with little authority. But, he was highly respected for his efficiency and quickness for completing his tasks.

Thorm waited, hiding in a bush near the entrance of a tent. His senses were at their peak. He could sense the others begin to approach his area, although they could not be heard, Thorm had an ability to see things which could not be seen. Suddenly, he heard what he was hoping he would not. From some fifty paces away he could hear a small party of trollocs nearing his position. They would have to take out this group without one of them reaching his horn and alerting any fade or trolloc for miles. Knowing the others were waiting his move, Thorm gave his instructions with hand signals, known only to those of his guild. With the grace of a hunting panther, they moved into position. The trollocs were unaware of their presence and of the fate that was to become of them.

"Our master said we should go to top of hill and wait," said the second in command of this party of eight.

"I thought I could smell human down here, best we take a look. Me hungry too. Could use some flesh right now." remarked the leader.

Thorm could sense they knew someone was here now. He could see the leader of the band raising his snout into the air, smelling the air around him. Trollocs were renowned for their keen sense of smell and for this, absolute precision was needed in the execution of their ambush. Thorm grinned slightly to himself at the satisfaction he would get from disposing of these minions of the dark one. Feeling the satisfaction of getting a small part of his family back little by little as he took one of their lives. Thorms family and the rest of his tribe had been killed by trollocs when he was a child. Was it not for a hunting party of Taardad that found him buried in the rubble of what remained of his home, Thorm would not be. Although not customary for the Taardad, they brought him back to their village, raising him as one of their own. Once he reached an age he brought forth to his foster parents his quest of revenge against the dark one and his followers.


"Father, the time has come for me to continue on with my life. Although you have treated me as your own, I do not belong here. My path leads elsewhere." Thorm solemnly told his father.

"You are a child of great honor and courage my son. I will long the nights without you in my home. But, if this is your choice then it is a choice I must honor. Farewell my son. May you find water and shade."

"Farewell father, may you also find water and shade."

Without another word, Thorm grabbed his belongings. Strapping his short sword to his side and placing his finely bladed crossbow on his back, he walked out of his fathers tent, knowing they would never cross paths again. For once he left, he would never be welcome into the Taardad clan again.


"Meldrake, see the third one in line, he carries the horn. He will be our primary target, I will take him. You and Lithus circle around the back to prevent escape and allow them to give the alarm to others in the area."

Without further instructions Meldrake and Lithus disappeared into the shadows. Thorm was confident they would succeed in their mission. Lithus was as deadly as anyone with a blowgun armed with deadly poisoned darts. It was said that if you were to see Lithus raise his weapon, you were already dying.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't have a good feeling about this. Maybe we should just go to the top of the hill like we were told"

"A wise choice"

Turning, the trollocs could see where the voice originated from. Standing before them was their master, a deadly fade, visible only by choice. It was said that fades could blend in with shadows and never be seen, until it was too late.

"What do you think you are doing down here in the valley? My instructions were to go to the top of the hill and wait there. Who dares betray my orders?"

The leader of the Trolloc band stepped forward, holding his head lowered as expected when approaching their master.

"It was me. I was a fool, a ..."

Before he could say another word, the myrddraal, in one smooth stroke, raised his weapon and beheaded the unsuspecting trolloc. The remaining trollocs cowered not knowing their fate.

"Now, before I dispose of the rest of you get out of my sight and continue with what you were told to do. Wait, what is that."

Before his eyes could adjust a band of thieves jumped from all directions surrounding them.

"Quickly you idiot blow the horn!"

Before the trolloc could get the horn to his mouth, Thorm had circled him and placed his sharp sword in his back, resulting in some strange sounds. Knowing it was not over Thorm quickly knocked his crossbow releasing a bolt into another unsuspecting trollocs snout, rendering him unconscious.

"Fight back you cowards!" the fade shouted as the remaining trollocs panicked and attempted to flee.

One by one, the remaining trollocs were picked off by the skilled group of assassins, leaving only one enemy left, the fade.

The fade felt no fear but he was no fool and knew when he was outnumbered. Suddenly, one of the assassins launched himself at the fade. Without hesitation, he dodged the attack and brutally hacked off the head of the assassin. Thorm approached the fade with the most utter caution, knowing one small mistake would certainly mean death. The fade brought his sword down at an arch towards Thorm's head. Thorm parried the blow, but the blade still found flesh and he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. Ignoring it, he attacked with a fury of slashes, the fade meeting him step by step. The others watched in awe as the two seemed to be one with their blades, seeming to almost dance, a deadly dance at that. Then slowly, it seemed Thorm began to gain the advantage, backing the fade up against a large rock. Without warning the fade grinned and disappeared into the shadows. Thorm peered around, attempting to find some trace of his foe. Suddenly he heard a cry, a cry he recognized as his companion Meldrake. Without a pause Thorm ran to Meldrakes position, finding what he hoped would not be. There, laid before him was Lithus holding Meldrake in his arms, blood gushing from a wound in his chest.

"Meldrake, my friend. I mourn to see you here before me. I will send word to your family of your fate, and the honor you brought to them with your determination and courage. May you find peace in the afterlife."

Although he felt a loss of his friends death Thorm did not show it. Not because he thought the others would see him as a coward. No one dared mark him a coward for in him one could feel a great sense of pride and courage, unmatched in the world. Thorm feared no one, this was well known.

By now horns were going off in all directions. As much as Thorm wanted to avenge his friends death he knew the time was not now. For they must get Suna to safety for the fate of the known world lies in her secret.


A tale from The Book of Thieves by Cornelious the Bard

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Toial the Elven Chaos-Bard

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It all began about a hundred and thirty six years ago, in stedding Shangtai when my father and mother became joined in the Ogier way. Three months after their marriage my mother learned she was pregnant. Nearly 4 years later I and my twin brother were born. Loial and I grew up the best of friends. We played with the other Ogier children, but not for long periods of time. We would start something with them, and finish long before they would, or begin to find it boring and leave to undertake other pursuits. We most liked to read and fantasize about the world outside the stedding. We longed to see the groves of Great Trees and other wonders of creation, often imagining what it must be like to experience such magnificence firsthand. The Elders constantly chastised us about our "hastiness" and about the fascination with what the called the "human lands". We used to corner all visitors to the stedding begging them for information about all the places we had never seen.

Another of our hobbies was taking small jaunts outside the stedding, nothing anyone would notice, but giving us a small way to live out our fantasies. It was on one of these trips that we found the stranger. He was lying in a tall field, dressed in a black cloak. Blood gushed from wounds on both his chest and head. Even unconscious as he was, his appearance frightened us to the bone. We debated for a while, but in the end we decided to bring him back to the stedding and seek healing for him. We took him straight to the Stump, and the elders took him and dismissed us. Later that night when my father finally came home from the stump, he said that the man had died, but not before casting a 'curse' upon all the members of the stump and blowing a sparkling mist at them. Luckily all but one were out of range...that one was Arent, my father. When he came on he looked ok, a little tired, but that was normal after a busy day. He talked of the vile things the mysterious man had said before he died, and became inquisitive as to where exactly we had found this gentleman. I never could lie to dad, so I proceeded to tell him of our trips outside the stedding. He became upset and said we were never to leave the stedding again, at least not while we lived under his roof.

The next morning I awoke to a dreary cloud filled sky. As I headed into the main room of our home, Loial grasped my arm and brought me to my parents bedroom. There my mother was crying over the motionless form of my father. I feared the worst and went to him, laying my father on his shoulder. Though he was not awakened, I could hear a faint breathing and tell that he still lived. Mother said that Dad had had a fitful night of tossing and turning coupled with fever, and that when she tried to wake him this morning, he remained comatose as we could see. Loial and I stayed by our fathers side for all of the next three days, leaving only to take short catnaps, or quickly down bits of food to keep our strength up. At the end of the third day, we left to visit elder Haman. We asked him what could be done. He told us that he had already sent to Tar Valon for an Aes Sedai to help our father and that he expected them in the near future. A week passed, and then another, and on the thirty-eighth day, with our father's condition still unchanged, Elder Haman arrived to tell us the Aes Sedai had sent a reply, and were camped just outside the stedding. We immediately bundled my father up and placed him onto a stretcher. Taking care to not disturb him, we carried father to the edge of the stedding and inside the tent of the Aes Sedai. She asked us to leave and return the following morning. When we returned she told us she had never seen the like of his illness and that she did not know what she would do, but that she would try.

Each day we stayed there with her, from sunup till sunset, hoping that her actions could help our father. On the sixth day Alfreda Sedai told us that she could do nothing, and that she was needed elsewhere in the world, where she COULD make a difference. This news saddened us greatly. We didn't want to believe, but the words of an Aes Sedai are truth. We brought Father back home and then went to my room to speak. Something had to be done, one of us must leave the stedding and search for a cure, but someone would have to remain behind to care for our parents. Both of us wanting to be the one to find the cure, we decided to flip a coin. The fates chose me to leave, so that night I packed my few belongings and struck out for Carhienien, the nearest major city showed on the old map mounted on the wall of the stump. I traveled for seven days without rest, asking everyone I saw for healers and remedies. That evening I was so exhausted I could not go on, and I fell into a deep sleep. As I slept I dreamed a dream, but a dream unlike any other. I dreamed of a great being of darkness, he existed all around me and even in me. He named himself not, yet his very presence convinced me that this was the dark one with whom I spoke. He told me that he had cursed my father, that nothing could cure him. Nothing that is...except the removal of the curse by himself. He said he would gladly do so if I would do something for him. He said that I must pledge mine soul to the dark, and forever become his avatar of evil. I was appalled by these words, yet my love for my father is dear. I awoke with a start. Could it have been but a dream??? I decided it must have been a dream. And at the very instant I decided that in my mind, I heard his cruel laugh once more echo through my head. I left my belongings on the ground and began to run. I ran faster and faster, as fast as I could. I must reach my brother and parents. I made the trip in six days. My legs felt like lead, and my entire body groaned in anguish, yet still I went forward to our home. There I found them beside my fathers bed. My mother told me how just six days ago, after dad had appeared to be getting better, he suddenly relapsed, and became even worse. His heartbeat was so sow, and his breathing almost imperceptible. It was feared he would not live through the night. That night as I slept I was once more visited by the dark one. He told me that this would be my final chance to save my father. That upon the morn either my father would awake well and speak with us, or we would speak to him, as we laid him into the ground. I made the choice. I Pledged my soul and all my being to the pursuit of the goals of my new master. As I did this something inside me changed. It was if a part of me was lost, yet a new part was found to replace it. I felt a lust for blood. An intense desire to cause pain. And he gave me orders, orders on how to seal our pact. I followed his directions, to the place outside the stedding, to find surprisingly (even though he had told me of it) that Alfreda Sedai had returned. I was commanded to kill her and to scatter the pieces of her body about the camp. As I did this work, I felt a...a JOY at it. The Killing delighted me in a way I had never known pleasure. After the deed was done, i went home to find my father awake and speaking animatedly. As I walked through the door, his eyes looked upon me, in my bloodstained clothes. he shouted, "What Hast Thou Done? I fear my dreams werest true. GET THEE FROM MY SIGHT, THOU ART NO SON OF MINE!!!" At that moment the impact of my deed truly came upon me. My life here was over. Nevermore would I chat with Loial about the groves, or the once beauty of the ways. I ran with all my speed from the stedding, I began to wreak the wishes of my master upon all I didst meet. A year, to the day, from the day I didst pledge mine soul away, I had another dream like those two before, only in this dream I was visited by a being of light. He identifed himself as the creater, and condemned me for my actions. He said, "Thou, one of my most pure creations [the ogier] hast denied thine being and become and avatar of vileness. I cannot stand the sight of one such as thee and evermore shall thee walk the lands, stripped of that noble form." I felt a strange feeling as my body metamorphasised. I shrank to the size of a human, and great large wings grew from my back. I had become an Aracoix. Thenceforth I flew from place to place traversing the lands Wreaking pain and suffering in the name of all that is vile. Time went on and eventually I did find the order of The Chosen, taking my place at their head as Nae'blis. For years we wreaked havoc on the clans of the world and Eventually I was altered once more and finally found the love of my life, but that, is another story.

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Tuk the Minotaur Winter Monk

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"You, Tuk come here NOW!", declared Brother Nevik, master and head body defense trainer for a splinter faction of the Monastery of Elements. Clenching his teeth as well as his fists, the small human monk glared icily at the monastery's most darkened embarrassment - a 7 foot minotaur; an orphan.

With head bowed and eyes firmly affixed to the frost covered courtyard Tuk replied, "Yes Master". Quickly and with a speed and grace most uncommon to most beasts of his kind Tuk moved to kneel before Brother Nevik. Adorned in a simple brown canvas smock and canvas pants that barely fell to cover his thighs, Tuk knelt on the cold frozen ground.

With a quick slap to the horns, Brother Nevil broke into a long tirade of "near" obscenities.

"You know we took you in only as an act of moral responsibility?" began Nevil.

"Yes Master," Tuk replied.

"And that we have forsaken that day as the day of our downfall."

"Yes Master."

"And now I catch you weaving form as if YOU, of all creatures, were worthy enough to be an Elemental Monk." Brother Nevil sneered in contempt at Tuk. The Master of defense had spied Tuk up in the monastery's tower attempting to perform the advance forms of defense.

"What have you to say for yourself Tuk? Speak honestly for you have passed my own level of tolerance and I have the mind to convene a session of the Elders and banish you from here. I know you're only entering your adolescence as a beast of your kind but that is no excuse to bastardize our ways"

"I think I understand your point - Master, but you should understand me as well."

Tuk revisited his past as far as his memory could take him. He spoke of how he had learned of his coming to the monastery. Some of the, now Elder, brothers would often speak in hushed voices within the walls of the mud and stucco walls, but Tuk's keen sense of hearing was able to hear their words as if they were speaking a normal conversation.

He recalled the acidic cries of taint some brothers espoused at his delivery to the front porch and how some members spoke of tossing him in the ice cold waters of the nearby river. He spoke of the soft words of morality and life some brothers had mentioned. Tuk had been left on the doorstep to the monastery softly blanketed in a wool blanket - no note no explanation, just a small symbol of the House of Mahn-Tor. The symbol itself was insignificant as it was a token pendant worn by most all of the servants that worked in and around the Keep.

"I remember you, Master, as my first teacher." Tuk recalled the period of his early youth, a time when most young children were educated in a craft, skill or formalized education such as astronomy, writing, or art.

Raising his voice so as it carried through the courtyard and into the hallways of the monastery Tuk continued, "It was YOU who failed to teach me right from wrong. It was YOU who had me bored with simple menial tasks - scrubbing the walls, raking the courtyard, hauling the dead lumber from the fields into the kitchen and fire pits. It was YOU who pushed me to want more by denying me all which you would teach any "normal" child."

Slowly rising to tower over the monk, Tuk thrust his hands in the air for emphasis as he added, "And it was you who bored me beyond belief, you who had me in the tower moving barrels of wine, bales of hay and sack of grain - you who strengthened my body, challenged my mind and weakened my soul."

The monk looked up into the eyes of Tuk and began to speak only to be cut-off.

"And in this weakness, I had lost all that I had ever hoped to be. I realized that I had no hope for I had no idea what I was to become. So in envy I watched you day in and day out. I tried to find a weakness in you - one that I could exploit. One that I could use to make you feel as worthless and insignificant as you have made me feel. Instead I found my body mimicking the movements you taught your students, and as time progressed and the forms advanced I found a quiet inner peace."

Turning his back to the monk, Tuk walked slowly towards the outer courtyard. Tossing a parting look over his shoulder he said, "And now I shall leave you and the monastery."

By now many of the brothers who had been inside were surrounding the courtyard. Those not present were either in the fields tilling the hardened earth for an early Spring thaw or in the outlying region servicing the needs of the masses.

"Hold Tuk," cried the master, "for you cannot leave this place with the knowledge you possess. Even though you will never be a monk your emulations of our defense forms could suffer us greatly."

Turning to stand before the assembled brothers, Tuk spoke softly, "And why is it that I can never be a monk? Have I not done the work you asked of me? Have I not eaten the food you eat? Have I not prayed the prayers?"

Nevik smiled wryly and responded, "No that means not - for this is not the life you have chosen. You have not been called by some higher being and you have not the skills or stamina it takes to master the inner peace we adhere to teaching."

Snorting through flared nostrils Tuk responded, "Chosen - no. Higher calling - maybe. Skills and stamina - yes. I put it to you, Brother, that I never had the choice because of a form of higher calling, else I would be no more than some beast in the fields. I possess an inner peace which you taught me. I have the physical stamina and I believe I have the skills to be trained in "the way" of a Winter Monk.

Flexing his hands Brother Nevik bobbed his head in a slight nod. "Just so! Let us tests your abilities to self-teach. I will judge your skills in form and if you prove exceptionally worthy then we might consider allowing you into our order. And with that said Tuk began his trials.

Over the course of the next twelve hours Tuk worked his way through the forty-three novice and advanced forms showing his skills in such areas as tumbling and falls, trips and traps, positive and negative forces. Many of the brothers who had been standing in the courtyard joined Tuk as he began his advanced forms and continued with him until the final form.

In his final form - "Winter Shall Cover All" Tuk was faced with physically holding off the Master of Training. "Winter Shall Cover All" was a pre-planned series of inter-connected forms from the novice and advance levels. In it the student was to "counter" all the Master's moves with a form and never respond with the same form. The Master of Training would initiate an offensive maneuver and the student would respond in one of several ways, then the Master would initiate another offensive posture that would dictate another response.

The Brother of the Elemental Winter group stood by as Tuk and Nevik traded lightning fast blows with one another. After eleven hours of constant maneuvering Tuk had not repeated any form. Late into the last hour of the test Tuk faltered for just the blink of an eye and was caught on the receiving end of a chop to the throat. Narrowly backing away he was caught by Nevik's thumb that gouged a button-sized chunk of flesh from his throat…but the form continued.

Frothing from the mouth, blood slowly pumping from his neck, Tuk finished his last counter form to Master Nevik's blow and immediately collapsed on the ground unconscious.

Later the next day and still groggy from the past few days Tuk awoke to someone placing a soothingly warm compress on his throat. Barely able to open his eyes Tuk saw Brother Nevik just standing to place a bloodied bandage in a nearby basin. Wearily Tuk grabbed for Neviks hand but caught his rope belt instead. Trying to speak, Tuk was shushed.

Placing his hands on Tuk's head Nevik gingerly chided, "Sleep Tuk. Rest well for now. Soon you will heal from that wound and I have a new student…Brother."

…and so begins the life of Brother Tuk…once and outcast and now Life's newest student.

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Tyrinin the Human Paladin-Mage

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As a young human child, Seldric was as normal as you could expect, and didn't really stand out even through his young teens. His father was a respected knight in his native realm, and was always admired by his son. Teaching his son to accept things when they occurred taught Seldric not to complain, and learned how to take things well, maturing quicker than most kids his age.

When Seldric was 14, his father was killed in a routine border patrol, by who, no one is sure, for there were no survivors. Though Seldric had learned how take things as best of his ability, as he grew older, the death of his father had affected him more than he had thought.

Within a year of his father's death, everyone around Seldric had become unattached to anyone, and expressionless. Knowing this himself for the first time, he ran from his small village to try and make sense of what had happened to him in the past year. Abandoning his mother and his family back in his village, Seldric ran away to a larger city known as Manetheren. As he stepped foot into a large fountain square, someone approached him, and asked his name, realizing he was a stranger and in a unknown land. He replied, 'Tyrinin.'

Tyrinin was the name of his father, and though he knew little of this place he found himself in, he soon dedicated his life to forgetting his painful past. By taking his father's name he was abandoning everything he had known, and was starting anew.

He found his interests quickly in the art of wizardry, and practiced his art with great fascination. He soon enlisted in the city militia and was asked to accompany a small band of mixed fighters on a patrol. One of which was named Dalamar. Tyrinin looked up Dalamar as a sort of role-model, and tried to help out as the group enchanter as best as his abilities could offer. On many of Dalamar's patrols, they had encountered many large and vicious foes, but were slaughtered with Dalamar's efficiency with the sword. Mesmerized by Dalamar's skill, Tyrinin would have followed Dalamar to the Spine of the World if that is where Dalamar's destination was.

One such patrol Dalamar was ordered to inspect a small village on the outskirts of the east forests. Going against his orders not to harm any townsfolk, Dalamar slaughtered many of the helpless people within the small community. Tyrinin, blinded by his awe of Dalamar, did not care of what wrong doing his leader was doing, but merely joined in, and was soon helping him every foot of the way.

Gaining invaluable experience on such patrols Tyrinin soon became very powerful as a sorcerer, and reveled in his power, until one day, when a man named Crensathas encountered Dalamar in the act of such evil he was accustomed to, struck Dalamar down with more might than Tyrinin had ever witnessed, utterly destroying Dalamar. After that event, Tyrinin felt lost.

Though one day, a man named Grak saw the potential in Tyrinin, and invited him on an exploration of a place called 'The Tunnels of Astirin,' that Grak had found. Grak and his group of explorers gave the nickname 'Bloodspike' to Tyrinin during their many adventures within the watery tunnels, for his ability to strike down on wicked dark creatures and cause their blood to splatter along the walls. Through these tunnels Tyrinin reformed from his merciless killing of innocent lives with Dalamar, and had become even more powerful than with his former companions.

Tyrinin soon found himself at the peak of his abilities, and decided to combine his magical abilities with another area of research his father had been before him; a paladin.

Learning the ways of the paladin quickly, he soon found himself following the great lord of Crusades, Solace. Tyrinin also found himself exploring the Tunnels of Astirin by himself, testing his abilities to survive, and learning from what Grak had taught him here. Though Seldric never found who killed his father, he has dedicated his life to finding peace within himself, and wrath to those who oppose him.

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Valroth the Human Chaotic-Monk

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"Your parents?" Daizazikhan asked, "you have never before asked about your family, why do you know?"

"Master Zao has been teaching me Master, he says that to know ones' self one must know their line." Valroth replied.

"I suppose you must know" Daizazikhan began, "it has been a very long time since I last thought of your father. I once served him, I was the head priest at Temple of the Four Chimes in the Mountains of Mist, it was part of your father's kingdom at that time."

"You mean my dad was a king?!" Valroth said astonished.

"He was ruler and supposed heir to this land, but there is controversy surrounding this. He had many competitors for the crown, you see, his brothers were all born with him on the same day. No one but your grand mother and her nursemaid knew who was first born. But your grand mother died in labor and the nursemaid was killed by a darkfriend who plotted to put himself on the throne. When the boys grew older, Varios, your father was favored for the crown. He was a wise leader of armies and your grand father's favorite son. His brothers, your uncles, despised him for this, particularly Valor who disappeared soon after the King's intentions were clear. That Varios was to succeed him on the throne. Not a person had heard from him for years when he came back, commanding a legion of the Children of the Light. Your father welcomed him back with open arms and gave land and title to his brother. You were born soon after, the product of a secret love between your father and his Wisdom. There was much unrest in the city and so you were brought here to be instructed by myself and your other brethren. But shortly after we arrived, so did word of the rebellion in the castle. Your uncle Valor and his whitecloaks challenged Varios for reign over the kingdom. War ravaged the lands till not a soul was left it is said. The kingdom that once was yours is now buried beneath New Manetheren."

"Then I must go there and claim my right!" Valroth said, his demeanour somber but callous.

"Why, there hasn't been a king in Manetheren for two decades! The land is ruled by eight lords, and whatever they don't control directly is relegated to the clans." Daizazikhan told Valroth condescendingly.

"Silly old man!" Valroth shouted "I do not care to be a king! I must claim my right of vengeance!"
Daizazikhan was shocked, his jaw dropped but only a second before he began chastising Valroth for his disrespect and pernicious plan. What the man did not then realize is what Valroth was saying quietly to himself while the lecture went on. "…I forsake the light. The Great Lord of the Dark shall make vengeance mine. Whatever it takes to destroy these Whitecloaks I will do. I give myself to you Great Lord…"

Daizazikhan finished his speech, one that would make a bear jump out of its hide, and looked at young Valroth. Never in his life had he been so surprised. Valroth stood their grinning ear to ear, looking at Daizazikhan and seemed on the verge of laughter. There was something different though, not just the expression, but the look in his eyes. Something had changed about Valroth. And just then Valroth's foot flew through the air, a flurry of kicks to Daizazikhan's head and chest. A hit in the solar plexus had the man doubled over and gasping for air. One final kick to the kidneys and Daizazikhan was dead. Valroth sat down next to the corpse and looked at his former master for some time. Looking as if on the verge of tears, he then threw back his head and cackled with insane glee. "Vengeance will be mine!" he shouted, "Let the land of Manetheren be ravaged by war for all eternity! And may my path be paved by the entrails of Whitecloaks!!"

And so Valroth set out on his journey to New Manetheren, but that is another story.

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A MUD based on Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. With roleplaying encouraged through guilds, clans, clanwars, holywars and throne wars. Experience the Wheel of Time world in a whole new way: in an Age ravaged by the Last Battle. The time lace has been broken, the barrier between dream and reality shattered. Weaves. Clans. Crafting. Huge World. Free Online Role Playing Game or commonly called RPG. The most unique Free Online RPG set in the Wheel of Time world.



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