Journal Entry
So, Phantom is revealing himself as a Patriarchal, ignorant sack of shite. I am severing this bond and I consider him an enemy of freedom now. This organisation is going to fall and it is his own doing. I am sickened by his recent actions.
I shall go forth with the path I already began walking some time ago. He cast the die...the pieces wil move accordingly. We shall prevail, despite this...nuisance.
Brindas and me will look after Odette. She is worth so much more than this pretentious banter Phantom spews forth. He is not even remotely allowed to speak of "enlightment" when his own is non excisting.
Kelth McEwan
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Journal entry
I...am not used...to be taken care off...but that cloth soothing my face...the offered drink to kill that anxious feel as if I was about to lose control to all those flashbacks...
I...am glad she did not pry and investigate what was racing in my mind...and her question the other day, confronts me again with the main question, do I know how to live? No...I do not. I live to aid others and correct what is done wrong in past and present.
I make errors, many...but I only can keep going on...
I cannot see
Even though it's there in front of me
Like a beggar cold, and crawling on my knees
Searching for something so close yet still out of my reach
Is this all I'm destined to be
I've been living in the shadow now for far too long
The senses burn at the caress, like it doesn't belong
It's one thing to dwell in silence, or to feel nothing at all
Then you cannot hear the rush, or feel the pain at the end of the fall
I fought to lift the veil and move beyond the door
Just when I thought there was maybe something more
A hope that I could at last restore my sight
The cloak is gone, my freedom won, but I found a blinding light
I can feel the light burn as the night was cold
And I struggle the same, as the life I lived before
Though the light guided me I still lost the way
And I struggle the same just to find the path back to the day
With every fall I lose the will
Another chain that binds
I can't go on like this
Another road that winds
I should have known that the struggle never really ends
The road is long don't try to see what's beyond the bend
Our wars are won, at the cost of another defeat
You'll have to crawl to get back on your feet
I thought I was stronger than this, that I had more to give
That the light of the day would show me the way to go
Never wanted to turn my back to it all
This is my struggle that I'll have to bear
Before I am too far gone
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ar0--l6uN2A - Blackguard, A blinding Light
I...am not used...to be taken care off...but that cloth soothing my face...the offered drink to kill that anxious feel as if I was about to lose control to all those flashbacks...
I...am glad she did not pry and investigate what was racing in my mind...and her question the other day, confronts me again with the main question, do I know how to live? No...I do not. I live to aid others and correct what is done wrong in past and present.
I make errors, many...but I only can keep going on...
I cannot see
Even though it's there in front of me
Like a beggar cold, and crawling on my knees
Searching for something so close yet still out of my reach
Is this all I'm destined to be
I've been living in the shadow now for far too long
The senses burn at the caress, like it doesn't belong
It's one thing to dwell in silence, or to feel nothing at all
Then you cannot hear the rush, or feel the pain at the end of the fall
I fought to lift the veil and move beyond the door
Just when I thought there was maybe something more
A hope that I could at last restore my sight
The cloak is gone, my freedom won, but I found a blinding light
I can feel the light burn as the night was cold
And I struggle the same, as the life I lived before
Though the light guided me I still lost the way
And I struggle the same just to find the path back to the day
With every fall I lose the will
Another chain that binds
I can't go on like this
Another road that winds
I should have known that the struggle never really ends
The road is long don't try to see what's beyond the bend
Our wars are won, at the cost of another defeat
You'll have to crawl to get back on your feet
I thought I was stronger than this, that I had more to give
That the light of the day would show me the way to go
Never wanted to turn my back to it all
This is my struggle that I'll have to bear
Before I am too far gone
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ar0--l6uN2A - Blackguard, A blinding Light
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Journal entry
As I take a moment to contemplate, I realise I need to take some distance from things. Odd folk keeping their eyes on me...a Tharizdun manifestation in the Slags I killed...arguments...hallucinations...
People keep telling me I should listen and that I put others at risk for challenging those who seek me.
They are -wrong-. I give it my all to see to it others do not come to harm. I -am- capable. I need no parental advice...I am a grown man.
Am I flawed? Oh by Morrigan and Hoar, yes I am, but I give it my all, regardless.
Perhaps love -does- make one weak...I know not for certain. I -do- know for certain that I -will- march to war.
Nobody tells me what do or nae...save for the Lady of War and Lord of Retribution...
Pike it, I got not a single thing to lose, people seem to forget that. I care about people, yes, but they think I need "mending" or should be converted into someone I am not. I have already tried that and it failed, I would not know why I should attempt that again.
I struggle with demands being made on terrains I am blank and cold...and threats being made against my home...my hold...my life I built up with tooth and claw, -shall- be met with utter destruction from my end.
If this makes me selfish? I am beyond caring. Allies have came and went in my life...it is nothing new.
If people can not determine my worth, I am not going to double up efforts and prove myself. Only proof I need to display, is my attempt to end this state of affairs with those scrolls...with or without help.
*Kelth kneels in front of a chest, opening it. Donning his warpaint in a slow fashion, his face becoming an intimidating sight. He chants a hymn to Morrigan in the meantime, the glint in his eye becoming one with sheer determination*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8LyfgvRhSM
As I take a moment to contemplate, I realise I need to take some distance from things. Odd folk keeping their eyes on me...a Tharizdun manifestation in the Slags I killed...arguments...hallucinations...
People keep telling me I should listen and that I put others at risk for challenging those who seek me.
They are -wrong-. I give it my all to see to it others do not come to harm. I -am- capable. I need no parental advice...I am a grown man.
Am I flawed? Oh by Morrigan and Hoar, yes I am, but I give it my all, regardless.
Perhaps love -does- make one weak...I know not for certain. I -do- know for certain that I -will- march to war.
Nobody tells me what do or nae...save for the Lady of War and Lord of Retribution...
Pike it, I got not a single thing to lose, people seem to forget that. I care about people, yes, but they think I need "mending" or should be converted into someone I am not. I have already tried that and it failed, I would not know why I should attempt that again.
I struggle with demands being made on terrains I am blank and cold...and threats being made against my home...my hold...my life I built up with tooth and claw, -shall- be met with utter destruction from my end.
If this makes me selfish? I am beyond caring. Allies have came and went in my life...it is nothing new.
If people can not determine my worth, I am not going to double up efforts and prove myself. Only proof I need to display, is my attempt to end this state of affairs with those scrolls...with or without help.
*Kelth kneels in front of a chest, opening it. Donning his warpaint in a slow fashion, his face becoming an intimidating sight. He chants a hymn to Morrigan in the meantime, the glint in his eye becoming one with sheer determination*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8LyfgvRhSM
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Updated Bio time!
Basic Information
Name: Kelth McEwan
Aliases: "Lion" - "Big Guy"
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 32
Profession: Weaponsmith, Arms merchant, Armor merchant, Enchanter, Performer (Musician)
Languages: Common, Sylvan, Draconic and basic Celestial
Accent: Kelth has a thick accent going, most likely his trademark as well.
Physical Information
Height: 2,12m
Weight: 100 Kilograms
Body build: Rather muscular, tall
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Long, black manes, tiny bells being knotted into them.
Eyes: His eyes are hazel coloured and Feline in appearance, cat like Iris.
Skin: Caucasian.
Features: Kelth no longer wears his eyepatch, both his eyes seem healthy and functional. His scars appear healed and his tattoos seem to have changed. His body is covered in Clan-like markings.
He is always bare-chested, wearing a kilt-like battle attire. Around his torso, diagonally, runs a black, leather strap, that holds the dull looking, black-leathered sheathe of the Claymore on his back. Underneath the sheathe, hangs a bag that holds his Bouzouki (Irish like lute)
When he smiles, four razor sharp fangs are bared.
Other than that, Kelth is a tall, rugged, handsome man whom, once people are used to him, is a rather warm presence to those he find worthy.
Kelth is known to have a poor sense of direction, relying on his keen hearing to get his bearings.
Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic-?
Philosophy: The 18 wisdoms about life his father once taught him, as mentioned against a student of his while training.
1. "Do wha' ye will, ye knoow wha' ye should an' if a thing is worth doin', t'is worth doin' good."
2. "Take wha' ye will, but, nae more than ye need, fer tha balance o' life is d'srupted by greed."
3. "Give some tae tha Gods o' all tha' ye 'ave, fer they kin give ye their blessin's.. or they kin cut ye in 'alf."
4. "Care fer nature aroound ye, all tha trees an' green things, fer we're in life t'gether.We shoould all do oour thing."
5. "True friendship, strong as iron, will ne'er turn tae rust.An e'erlasting curse r'wards betrayal o' tha' trust."
6. "Tae yer Clan an' tae common folk be respectful an' mild, an' tae all o' yer enemies be nasty an' wild!”
7. "Choose yer friends wisely, all tha' glitters is nae gold.A promise made must be fulfilled, as Fire burns an' Ice is cold".
8. "Feed yer guests, shoould ye 'ave 'em.Share yer mead an' your bread. Nae drink tae much o' tha ale-horn, nae be ferst in yer bed."
9. "Nae boast aboout poowers ye do nae p'sess. Fer tha True deed, makes tha false speech completely worthless..."
10. "When bad times are 'pon ye, ne'er ferget they won't last. Wiv a light 'eart an' courage, they will soon be tha past."
11. "Laugh each day, 'cause it feels good an' make love, nae make strife. Wiv 'noough sex an' laughter ye will live a full life".
12. "Nae be frightened tae love, Ne'er be tae tough ta cry. Give yer feelin's expression an' yer spirit will fly."
13. "If rules are wise respect them, if they are foolish, then don't. If yer work 'as purpose, do it! If t'is pointless, then don't!”
14. "Don't think ye can do nae a thing, when ye see all is wrong. Fer if yer true tae yerself, yer one o' tha strong!"
15. "In a 'eart filled wiv honour thar be nae room fer fear. Trust in yerself an' NAE FOKKIN' PANIC! an' yer 'ead will stay clear."
16. "Keep yer sword an' spear sharpened, when a conflict ye feel. So if 'arsh words nae solve it, you kin trust in cold steel!”
17. "Take good care o' yer body; take good care o' yer sooul. Fer ye need BOTH in this life tae take ye tae yer goal."
18. "Folloow nae other leader than tha one ye knoow an' trust. Fer Gods thar be many...but a true leader on tha' ba'llefield...be a must."
Deity/Beliefs:
Kelth was known to worship the Morrigan in his early days in Sigil, however, Kelth willingly converted into the fold of Pelor when he and Naya'il started to become close and romantic with one another. Despite doubts, angers and feeling abandoned by Pelor when Marius Darktale robbed him and Naya of their unborn child, Kelth slowly made ammends and remained a follower of Pelor's fold.
More recent Kelth can be seen with a Pendant of Hoar and The Morrigan dangling around his neck, hinting at his vision of retribution and hatred against injustice as well for his insatiable lust for battle.
Personality:
Kelth is known for his harsh language, straight-forwardness and lack of sugar coating things. He is also known for building up a swift anger and rage when matters of compromised freedom are mentioned or people suffer injustice. Aside from that...strangers often mistake him for a blunt savage (which is not strange, since Kelth often belches out loud, wiping residu of his drinks from his chin and bare chest while relaxing at Khazeet's)
Being the huge, yet charismatic man that he is, he is known to lead groups without being the type of leader that wants his authority to be recognised. It's more the effect of people willingly following him because they trust him, or so it has appeared all these years in Sigil.
Kelth is known to dive into a battle first when he is angered, anger clouds his tactical thinking, but if calm, tactics is the first he will discuss with his "Battlebrothers and Sisters" before executing an attack.
Kelth is known to be humorous and open minded. He also makes it no secret he invests time, effort and money to help improve the chances of the Hive youth. Teaching them the art of swordplay in hopes of teaching them discipline. He also offers small ammounts of coin to help gain tutelage and apprenticeship for youngsters who prove to him they want a better future.
It used to be common knowledge, despite the hardships endured, Kelth and Naya'il were the McEwans. Married and paving their path into the future in dark, odd and intrigue infested Sigil as merchant couple since Naya'il took up the trade as well. The real reasons mostly clouded to the outside multiverse, rumor has it Kelth has disbanded this bond ever since Naya'il remained with her father in their wars. The topic is avoided by Kelth on the rare moments it arises.
Kelth has been seen with various allies who come and go as their own lives form and is known for the fact that once he deems someone a friend, he will leap through the very flames of the Hells to protect them, once he deems someone enemy...people generally know said enemy will either learn a harsh lesson, or end up being brutally slaughtered one way or another.
Rumors/ Tales:
There are records that show that Kelth McEwan was held responsible for the destruction of the Smoking Hammer inn and the many deaths of innocents. However, Kelth never was sentenced for it. Rumors have it, the inn exploded as the result of a bloody battle between him and Marius Darktale. The two appear to have had some feud, ever since it came to light Marius offered coin to see Kelth being crucified in public on the Bazaar.
Another rumor is that Marius, after the explosion, like Kelth, was ressurected and nearly managed to have Kelth kill his own former wife. As a result, their unborn child was lost, causing much grief to them.
There are also rumours, Kelth had resorted to more darker, bardic arcane, creating various, dark and ominous instruments of death, as part of his plans of vengeance on Marius. Wether or not Kelth succeeded in this, remains unknown.
It is said Kelth often is seen with a woman in Red, Odette Vieuxpont, Amir, Corny and Gale and a varied group of other individuals whom he values.
// Previous Bio/Journal/Story thread: http://z13.invisionfree.com/nwn2planesc ... c=313&st=0
On and On, Arch Enemy
We walk through war in the halls
Of dead protocols
We came so close, demands were met
That's when the rug was ripped out from under our feet
A vicious crime...cold betrayal and deceit.
Then reality hits you like a stab in the back
Like a slap in the face, a premeditated attack.
On and on...
The battle knows no victory...
On and on...
Weapons high - Reject defeat.
Decrepit smiles shine like fire
Lying through their teeth.
It's a memory you want to forget...
From one second to another the whole world went under.
The future cuts so deep tangibility bleeds.
On and on! Until the victory is dead and gone.
On and on! Kill the history, the wrong side won!
Don't let the history repeat...
Basic Information
Name: Kelth McEwan
Aliases: "Lion" - "Big Guy"
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 32
Profession: Weaponsmith, Arms merchant, Armor merchant, Enchanter, Performer (Musician)
Languages: Common, Sylvan, Draconic and basic Celestial
Accent: Kelth has a thick accent going, most likely his trademark as well.
Physical Information
Height: 2,12m
Weight: 100 Kilograms
Body build: Rather muscular, tall
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Long, black manes, tiny bells being knotted into them.
Eyes: His eyes are hazel coloured and Feline in appearance, cat like Iris.
Skin: Caucasian.
Features: Kelth no longer wears his eyepatch, both his eyes seem healthy and functional. His scars appear healed and his tattoos seem to have changed. His body is covered in Clan-like markings.
He is always bare-chested, wearing a kilt-like battle attire. Around his torso, diagonally, runs a black, leather strap, that holds the dull looking, black-leathered sheathe of the Claymore on his back. Underneath the sheathe, hangs a bag that holds his Bouzouki (Irish like lute)
When he smiles, four razor sharp fangs are bared.
Other than that, Kelth is a tall, rugged, handsome man whom, once people are used to him, is a rather warm presence to those he find worthy.
Kelth is known to have a poor sense of direction, relying on his keen hearing to get his bearings.
Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic-?
Philosophy: The 18 wisdoms about life his father once taught him, as mentioned against a student of his while training.
1. "Do wha' ye will, ye knoow wha' ye should an' if a thing is worth doin', t'is worth doin' good."
2. "Take wha' ye will, but, nae more than ye need, fer tha balance o' life is d'srupted by greed."
3. "Give some tae tha Gods o' all tha' ye 'ave, fer they kin give ye their blessin's.. or they kin cut ye in 'alf."
4. "Care fer nature aroound ye, all tha trees an' green things, fer we're in life t'gether.We shoould all do oour thing."
5. "True friendship, strong as iron, will ne'er turn tae rust.An e'erlasting curse r'wards betrayal o' tha' trust."
6. "Tae yer Clan an' tae common folk be respectful an' mild, an' tae all o' yer enemies be nasty an' wild!”
7. "Choose yer friends wisely, all tha' glitters is nae gold.A promise made must be fulfilled, as Fire burns an' Ice is cold".
8. "Feed yer guests, shoould ye 'ave 'em.Share yer mead an' your bread. Nae drink tae much o' tha ale-horn, nae be ferst in yer bed."
9. "Nae boast aboout poowers ye do nae p'sess. Fer tha True deed, makes tha false speech completely worthless..."
10. "When bad times are 'pon ye, ne'er ferget they won't last. Wiv a light 'eart an' courage, they will soon be tha past."
11. "Laugh each day, 'cause it feels good an' make love, nae make strife. Wiv 'noough sex an' laughter ye will live a full life".
12. "Nae be frightened tae love, Ne'er be tae tough ta cry. Give yer feelin's expression an' yer spirit will fly."
13. "If rules are wise respect them, if they are foolish, then don't. If yer work 'as purpose, do it! If t'is pointless, then don't!”
14. "Don't think ye can do nae a thing, when ye see all is wrong. Fer if yer true tae yerself, yer one o' tha strong!"
15. "In a 'eart filled wiv honour thar be nae room fer fear. Trust in yerself an' NAE FOKKIN' PANIC! an' yer 'ead will stay clear."
16. "Keep yer sword an' spear sharpened, when a conflict ye feel. So if 'arsh words nae solve it, you kin trust in cold steel!”
17. "Take good care o' yer body; take good care o' yer sooul. Fer ye need BOTH in this life tae take ye tae yer goal."
18. "Folloow nae other leader than tha one ye knoow an' trust. Fer Gods thar be many...but a true leader on tha' ba'llefield...be a must."
Deity/Beliefs:
Kelth was known to worship the Morrigan in his early days in Sigil, however, Kelth willingly converted into the fold of Pelor when he and Naya'il started to become close and romantic with one another. Despite doubts, angers and feeling abandoned by Pelor when Marius Darktale robbed him and Naya of their unborn child, Kelth slowly made ammends and remained a follower of Pelor's fold.
More recent Kelth can be seen with a Pendant of Hoar and The Morrigan dangling around his neck, hinting at his vision of retribution and hatred against injustice as well for his insatiable lust for battle.
Personality:
Kelth is known for his harsh language, straight-forwardness and lack of sugar coating things. He is also known for building up a swift anger and rage when matters of compromised freedom are mentioned or people suffer injustice. Aside from that...strangers often mistake him for a blunt savage (which is not strange, since Kelth often belches out loud, wiping residu of his drinks from his chin and bare chest while relaxing at Khazeet's)
Being the huge, yet charismatic man that he is, he is known to lead groups without being the type of leader that wants his authority to be recognised. It's more the effect of people willingly following him because they trust him, or so it has appeared all these years in Sigil.
Kelth is known to dive into a battle first when he is angered, anger clouds his tactical thinking, but if calm, tactics is the first he will discuss with his "Battlebrothers and Sisters" before executing an attack.
Kelth is known to be humorous and open minded. He also makes it no secret he invests time, effort and money to help improve the chances of the Hive youth. Teaching them the art of swordplay in hopes of teaching them discipline. He also offers small ammounts of coin to help gain tutelage and apprenticeship for youngsters who prove to him they want a better future.
It used to be common knowledge, despite the hardships endured, Kelth and Naya'il were the McEwans. Married and paving their path into the future in dark, odd and intrigue infested Sigil as merchant couple since Naya'il took up the trade as well. The real reasons mostly clouded to the outside multiverse, rumor has it Kelth has disbanded this bond ever since Naya'il remained with her father in their wars. The topic is avoided by Kelth on the rare moments it arises.
Kelth has been seen with various allies who come and go as their own lives form and is known for the fact that once he deems someone a friend, he will leap through the very flames of the Hells to protect them, once he deems someone enemy...people generally know said enemy will either learn a harsh lesson, or end up being brutally slaughtered one way or another.
Rumors/ Tales:
There are records that show that Kelth McEwan was held responsible for the destruction of the Smoking Hammer inn and the many deaths of innocents. However, Kelth never was sentenced for it. Rumors have it, the inn exploded as the result of a bloody battle between him and Marius Darktale. The two appear to have had some feud, ever since it came to light Marius offered coin to see Kelth being crucified in public on the Bazaar.
Another rumor is that Marius, after the explosion, like Kelth, was ressurected and nearly managed to have Kelth kill his own former wife. As a result, their unborn child was lost, causing much grief to them.
There are also rumours, Kelth had resorted to more darker, bardic arcane, creating various, dark and ominous instruments of death, as part of his plans of vengeance on Marius. Wether or not Kelth succeeded in this, remains unknown.
It is said Kelth often is seen with a woman in Red, Odette Vieuxpont, Amir, Corny and Gale and a varied group of other individuals whom he values.
// Previous Bio/Journal/Story thread: http://z13.invisionfree.com/nwn2planesc ... c=313&st=0
On and On, Arch Enemy
We walk through war in the halls
Of dead protocols
We came so close, demands were met
That's when the rug was ripped out from under our feet
A vicious crime...cold betrayal and deceit.
Then reality hits you like a stab in the back
Like a slap in the face, a premeditated attack.
On and on...
The battle knows no victory...
On and on...
Weapons high - Reject defeat.
Decrepit smiles shine like fire
Lying through their teeth.
It's a memory you want to forget...
From one second to another the whole world went under.
The future cuts so deep tangibility bleeds.
On and on! Until the victory is dead and gone.
On and on! Kill the history, the wrong side won!
Don't let the history repeat...
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Basic Information
Name: Kelth McEwan
Aliases: "Lion" - "Big Guy" - "Tower" - "Savage Wolf"
Gender: Male
Race: Human/ ?
Age: 33
Profession: Warrior, Performer (Musician)
Faction: Sensate, Factotum rank
Languages: Common, Sylvan, Draconic, Rashemi and basic Celestial
Accent: Kelth has a thick accent going, most likely his trademark as well.
Physical Information
Height: 2,12m
Weight: 100 Kilograms
Body build: Rather muscular, tall
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Long, black manes, tiny bells being knotted into them.
Eyes: His eyes are glowing-hazel coloured and Feline in appearance, cat like Iris.
Skin: Caucasian.
Tattoos: Clan symbols, Wolf teeth and a snarling Wolf on his left calf. Draconic runes as well (Lore DC: 30 (( in game tell))
Features:
He is always bare-chested, wearing a kilt-like battle attire. Around his torso, diagonally, runs a black, leather bandolier, that holds the three dull looking, leathered sheathes of the Claymore "Beast", longsword "Mhor Riogan Gú Brath" and "Claidhaern Mhór Carach" on his back. It also sports his Sensate badge, marking him Factotum.
When he smiles, four razor sharp fangs are bared. (( Lore DC: 20 reveals there must be Dragon influence within this man))
Other than that, Kelth is a tall, rugged, handsome man whom, once people are used to him, is a rather warm presence to those he find worthy.
Kelth is known to have a poor sense of direction, relying on his keen hearing to get his bearings.
Mental Information
Alignment: Chaotic-?
Behaviour
Kelth is known to ignore laws or established powers, he seeks unison betwixt people who have the same wish as he, move Sigil forward and work together where possible.
Honor is something the man holds dearly and any form of treason against those dear to him or himself, is met with brutal retribution, even if such could put the man behind bars.
A berserker at heart, injustice in his presence is a massive trigger, which, if not dismantled quickly, leads to severely escalating situations.
Overall, Kelth is a rather warm person who appears to care deeply about those close to him. He carries a blonde braid strapped to his left bracer with sheer pride.
His sheer chaotic nature makes him a tough individual for a lot of people to handle, but most who have gotten to know him, seem to either accept this part of him, or by now feel confident enough to correct him at times.
The Reforged Blades
Kelth stands as one of the leaders of the Hive-based group, known as The Reforged Blades
Ensiferum Wanderer
Lyrics
In time bleeding wounds will heal
Unlike some which are too deep to see
Like scars in a nomad's soul
Their mending is so slow
Not the shout of a hundred enemies
Can make him feel fear inside him But when sun sets and the cold arrives
With crushing solitude in the darkness of night
He will ride across land and time
To find a way through this endless night
There's a storm in his heart and the fire burns his soul
But the wanderer's part is to ride alone
With bare hands he has taken many lives
He's had a hundred women by his side
From enchanting woods through the freezing north
He's known on every sea and far beyond
As the moon grows and the circle is complete
He lies down and waits for sleep
But there's always a scenery in his mind
Of all the beauty he once left behind
He will ride across land and time
To find a way through this endless night
There's a storm in his heart and the fire burns his soul
But the wanderer's part is to ride alone
Explanation
- Kelth endured many losses in his lifetime, his friends, mother, step-father, brother, first wife.
- Kelth knew fear...though learned to postpone it's presence, clawing at him during the nights he spent alone.
- Despite hardships and mistakes, the warrior keeps marching on in life, not so destined to be alone anymore
- In his past, the warrior did not shun breaking foes, bedded plenty of people, not restricted to females and travelled far and wide
- Kelth is a man that holds his memories very, very dear...
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A young boy, strapped to a table, screams and sobs in pain and anguish...snarls and roars come from him and seven men are rushing back and forth, carrying all sorts of vials and cloth, it was the third month filled with pain, agony and sorrow...
"We must lull it t'sleep! ...more spider venom! ...three vials!" - One of the men spoke
"We're goin' t' lose him, Sir..." -Another who was checking the boy's pulse spoke, worried
"MOTHER!" -The boy screamed in sheer terror
"AWAY FROM HIM! Fokkin' hells!" - An old, grey haired man spoke, causing the others to disperse.
The boy opens his eyes...bright, feline like hazels glancing at him, terrified expression lingering on in them as his gaze met the old man's.
"Shhh...yer goin' t' be fine, lad...I nae want ye t' b'come like all th' others...Th' Hathran d'sire change...sleep now..." - With a gesture, the man induces the boy in a magical sleep, the boy's eyes closing after a brief struggle...
After awakening...the boy's eyes appear normal again...he sees his mother at the side of his bed and jumps up to hug her, tightly so...
"Mom...." - The boy uttered softly, finding the safety and warmth he had been deprived of for a long time...the experience likely to have left a mark in his soul...
"We must lull it t'sleep! ...more spider venom! ...three vials!" - One of the men spoke
"We're goin' t' lose him, Sir..." -Another who was checking the boy's pulse spoke, worried
"MOTHER!" -The boy screamed in sheer terror
"AWAY FROM HIM! Fokkin' hells!" - An old, grey haired man spoke, causing the others to disperse.
The boy opens his eyes...bright, feline like hazels glancing at him, terrified expression lingering on in them as his gaze met the old man's.
"Shhh...yer goin' t' be fine, lad...I nae want ye t' b'come like all th' others...Th' Hathran d'sire change...sleep now..." - With a gesture, the man induces the boy in a magical sleep, the boy's eyes closing after a brief struggle...
After awakening...the boy's eyes appear normal again...he sees his mother at the side of his bed and jumps up to hug her, tightly so...
"Mom...." - The boy uttered softly, finding the safety and warmth he had been deprived of for a long time...the experience likely to have left a mark in his soul...
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A boy, aged thirteen seasons...
"Mother! Nooo!" - The dark haired young boy kicked and screamed as the men took him away...a sobbing woman left at the door of a homestead...alone...nobody to comfort her as her son was taken away as per oath given long ago...
"Kelth! ...my boy! DON'T TAKE MY BOY!" -The woman was kept at bay by two warriors
"Sorry, Ms...th'boy will be trained as was agreed...we will take good care o' him..."
And so, the boy was put on horseback, in front of a grey haired, older man. The man had a familiar face...though the boy could not quite recall from where or when...
five years later...
Kelth shook his head as one of the other late-teen boys was dragged away from the training circle. He would be up next. They had to dismount their trainer, using naught but bare hands, the rider wielding a stick-sword for training...not lethal, perhaps, but still would break a nose or bruise one up proper.
Kelth entered the circle and readied his stance, the rider coming at him at speed, swinging the stick. Kelth dodged with a roll and readied himself for the rider's return. The rider coming around slower and stopped the horse in order to have some good swings at Kelth, whom dashed from left to right and grabbed a handfull of dirt during a roll, only to cast the dirt into the trainer's eyes and yank him from horseback.
"STOP!" - Another trainer bellowed.
"This is nae accordin' to th' rules, McEwan! punishment pole fer ye! four days!"
Kelth gritted his teeth...he knew what was in store...four days, bare-feet on a wooden pole...no food...no drinking except the rain...which was aplenty this season...the late-teen boy reluctantly made his way to the pole...
"Mother! Nooo!" - The dark haired young boy kicked and screamed as the men took him away...a sobbing woman left at the door of a homestead...alone...nobody to comfort her as her son was taken away as per oath given long ago...
"Kelth! ...my boy! DON'T TAKE MY BOY!" -The woman was kept at bay by two warriors
"Sorry, Ms...th'boy will be trained as was agreed...we will take good care o' him..."
And so, the boy was put on horseback, in front of a grey haired, older man. The man had a familiar face...though the boy could not quite recall from where or when...
five years later...
Kelth shook his head as one of the other late-teen boys was dragged away from the training circle. He would be up next. They had to dismount their trainer, using naught but bare hands, the rider wielding a stick-sword for training...not lethal, perhaps, but still would break a nose or bruise one up proper.
Kelth entered the circle and readied his stance, the rider coming at him at speed, swinging the stick. Kelth dodged with a roll and readied himself for the rider's return. The rider coming around slower and stopped the horse in order to have some good swings at Kelth, whom dashed from left to right and grabbed a handfull of dirt during a roll, only to cast the dirt into the trainer's eyes and yank him from horseback.
"STOP!" - Another trainer bellowed.
"This is nae accordin' to th' rules, McEwan! punishment pole fer ye! four days!"
Kelth gritted his teeth...he knew what was in store...four days, bare-feet on a wooden pole...no food...no drinking except the rain...which was aplenty this season...the late-teen boy reluctantly made his way to the pole...
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
!! Trigger warning, sexism. !!
The next four days
Shivering from cold, as each night was filled with lashing rain, Kelth stood on the pole...he had no idea wether he slept or not during those nights, reality blurred every now and then. He heard his mother...he even saw his mother...he saw her face, her warm voice in his ears...her well known scent, which invoked the feeling of security.
"Punishment o'er! get yer arses down!"
Four young men, including Kelth, fell down from their poles, crawling their way to their quarters, to finally rest.
Six months later
Kelth wandered out of the bathing room, towel around mid-section, towards the main training grounds on an early morning. He regarded a group of female warriors, training. His interest was piqued, watching how they fought in a triangle.
Argyle, one of the tithe-lads who only recently begun his berserker training, nudged Kelth in his side with an elbow after walking up next to him.
"Know wha' women are good fer? I'll tell ye wha' they ain't good fer...fightin'! only good fer bringin' ye a pint, prop a tit in yer 'and an' this!" - The boy made a suggestive movement with hips which caused Kelth to glance at him, sloooowly, arching his right brow.
"Ah? pray tell, Argyle...e'er thought tha' they are people, jus' like ye an' me? I bet they all can kick yer wee arse, ferst an' foremost...second, would ye still grin if somebody like yerself said such a thing 'bout yer mother? yer sister? or yer daughter one day?" - Kelth shook his head
"Wha' ye on 'bout McEwan? if yer mother looked fit, I'd plough her too!" - Argyle snickered
Kelth's face took on a twisted form, the pupils of his eyes widening. Within the blink of an eye, the entire training grounds had people in turmoil, panicked as Argyle wasn't moving anymore and Kelth continued to beat Argyle's now deformed face with his bare knuckles, which were busted open in the process. It took three master-trainers to yank Kelth from the seemingly lifeless body of Argyle.
Kelth was taken before the council...
"Why did ye beat a brother t' death boy?! this is s'vere! this is nae how a pack o' wolves works!
Give us one good reason why ye should nae be cast out from graduatin' into th' Lodge?"
-Kelth snarled, glaring at the council
"Listen, ye bunch o' old, senile, rusted in yer ancient ways pricks! Ye want us t' be ready fer th' Thayans? d'feat their Knights AND Red Wizards? then stop fokkin' teach us sword-play tactics from beyond th' b'ginning o' times with so called rules o' engagement...stop punishin' new blood when actually tryin' t' bring some new points o' view...as fer why Argyle had t' die by my 'ands? He insulted th' tree I stem from...my mother...it is by mothers, we excist, oh wise one. Wha' are we, if we allow our own t' r'duce those tha' bring us forth, t' mere breedin' puppets fer our entertainment, whilst we so-called r'vere our Wychlaran an' have sisters in battle? do we really condone individuals who make this precious equality look like a fokkin' farce?"
"Pray tell me, wise one, why -should- I want t' graduate into a lodge who clearly makes a stand fer a pathetic wretch, instead o' praisin' those who try t' keep our culture intact?"
-Kelth spat as he spoke, every muscle tensed.
"SILENCE, WHELP!" - The old, familiar grey man bellowed, clearly taken aback by Kelth's words, as young as he was.
"I agree with th' fact Argyle's words were poison an' nae example o' how we want our warriors t' be...but th' boy could have been taught! He did nae need t' die!"
The old man rose from his chair, walked up to Kelth, whom already towered above him.
"Boy...yer insufferably stubborn...but ye make a good case...howe'er...ye must learn t' control this...disproportioned eagerness t' d'stroy those who nae agree with ways ye hold so dearly...except when they are yer true enemy! This is how ye b'come a lone Wolf...Kelth...nae part o' a pack!"
The old man placed his right index, middle and ringfinger on Kelth's forehead, giving it a gentle push, which caused Kelth to blink and gasp, his gaze lingering on the Old man with renewed recognition.
"Do ye remember, Kelth? when ye were cryin' on tha' table as a wee, wee lad? I told ye I nae wanted ye t' b'come like th' others..."
"Use yer soddin' wisdom t' educate an' speak against such b'haviour Kelth...yer so much be'er than this...I already spoke with th' rest o' th' council, jus' do yer best in next week's tournament an' ye will graduate. We'll inform Argyle's father tha' sadly trainin' proved fatal fer th' boy"
The old man patted Kelth's shoulder and wandered back to his large, wooden chair. Kelth stood there, taking in those words as he was dismissed out of the Hall...images flashing through his mind of that table...his own screams and cries...and an echoing female voice, somewhat blurred...the only word he could understand being "weapon"...
The next four days
Shivering from cold, as each night was filled with lashing rain, Kelth stood on the pole...he had no idea wether he slept or not during those nights, reality blurred every now and then. He heard his mother...he even saw his mother...he saw her face, her warm voice in his ears...her well known scent, which invoked the feeling of security.
"Punishment o'er! get yer arses down!"
Four young men, including Kelth, fell down from their poles, crawling their way to their quarters, to finally rest.
Six months later
Kelth wandered out of the bathing room, towel around mid-section, towards the main training grounds on an early morning. He regarded a group of female warriors, training. His interest was piqued, watching how they fought in a triangle.
Argyle, one of the tithe-lads who only recently begun his berserker training, nudged Kelth in his side with an elbow after walking up next to him.
"Know wha' women are good fer? I'll tell ye wha' they ain't good fer...fightin'! only good fer bringin' ye a pint, prop a tit in yer 'and an' this!" - The boy made a suggestive movement with hips which caused Kelth to glance at him, sloooowly, arching his right brow.
"Ah? pray tell, Argyle...e'er thought tha' they are people, jus' like ye an' me? I bet they all can kick yer wee arse, ferst an' foremost...second, would ye still grin if somebody like yerself said such a thing 'bout yer mother? yer sister? or yer daughter one day?" - Kelth shook his head
"Wha' ye on 'bout McEwan? if yer mother looked fit, I'd plough her too!" - Argyle snickered
Kelth's face took on a twisted form, the pupils of his eyes widening. Within the blink of an eye, the entire training grounds had people in turmoil, panicked as Argyle wasn't moving anymore and Kelth continued to beat Argyle's now deformed face with his bare knuckles, which were busted open in the process. It took three master-trainers to yank Kelth from the seemingly lifeless body of Argyle.
Kelth was taken before the council...
"Why did ye beat a brother t' death boy?! this is s'vere! this is nae how a pack o' wolves works!
Give us one good reason why ye should nae be cast out from graduatin' into th' Lodge?"
-Kelth snarled, glaring at the council
"Listen, ye bunch o' old, senile, rusted in yer ancient ways pricks! Ye want us t' be ready fer th' Thayans? d'feat their Knights AND Red Wizards? then stop fokkin' teach us sword-play tactics from beyond th' b'ginning o' times with so called rules o' engagement...stop punishin' new blood when actually tryin' t' bring some new points o' view...as fer why Argyle had t' die by my 'ands? He insulted th' tree I stem from...my mother...it is by mothers, we excist, oh wise one. Wha' are we, if we allow our own t' r'duce those tha' bring us forth, t' mere breedin' puppets fer our entertainment, whilst we so-called r'vere our Wychlaran an' have sisters in battle? do we really condone individuals who make this precious equality look like a fokkin' farce?"
"Pray tell me, wise one, why -should- I want t' graduate into a lodge who clearly makes a stand fer a pathetic wretch, instead o' praisin' those who try t' keep our culture intact?"
-Kelth spat as he spoke, every muscle tensed.
"SILENCE, WHELP!" - The old, familiar grey man bellowed, clearly taken aback by Kelth's words, as young as he was.
"I agree with th' fact Argyle's words were poison an' nae example o' how we want our warriors t' be...but th' boy could have been taught! He did nae need t' die!"
The old man rose from his chair, walked up to Kelth, whom already towered above him.
"Boy...yer insufferably stubborn...but ye make a good case...howe'er...ye must learn t' control this...disproportioned eagerness t' d'stroy those who nae agree with ways ye hold so dearly...except when they are yer true enemy! This is how ye b'come a lone Wolf...Kelth...nae part o' a pack!"
The old man placed his right index, middle and ringfinger on Kelth's forehead, giving it a gentle push, which caused Kelth to blink and gasp, his gaze lingering on the Old man with renewed recognition.
"Do ye remember, Kelth? when ye were cryin' on tha' table as a wee, wee lad? I told ye I nae wanted ye t' b'come like th' others..."
"Use yer soddin' wisdom t' educate an' speak against such b'haviour Kelth...yer so much be'er than this...I already spoke with th' rest o' th' council, jus' do yer best in next week's tournament an' ye will graduate. We'll inform Argyle's father tha' sadly trainin' proved fatal fer th' boy"
The old man patted Kelth's shoulder and wandered back to his large, wooden chair. Kelth stood there, taking in those words as he was dismissed out of the Hall...images flashing through his mind of that table...his own screams and cries...and an echoing female voice, somewhat blurred...the only word he could understand being "weapon"...
-
*Mausman
- Posts: 486
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Into the Wolf Lodge
Kelth had his fist, clenched on his chest. His head was lowered. Jandarr, the man who had looked after him and gave advice during those years of training, smiled as the line of berserkers, of which Kelth was one, were marked as those of the Wolf-Lodge.
Kelth's form looked battered, bruised and a healed up cut adorned his left pectoral. A mark left there by a certain woman, who had claimed him as her husband.
It happened swiftly and it caused young Kelth to grin. A tournament was held, only the top twelve participating warriors would be allowed into the Lodge. One of the warriors, was Daneira, lacking any magical talents, Daneira dedicated herself to harsh training in order to claim a place among the Wolves. Hair, crimson and lush, loose and accompanied by one thick braid, green hued eyes and a clearly trained, voloptuous woman, Daneira was respected and admired by many a warrior, both female or male.
Kelth secretly always had fancied her, but thought her not being interested in him. In truth, she was interested in him and felt disrespected the young warrior never had asked her to dance with him during feasts, always flirting about with other people.
Kelth and Daneira were the finalists, and with a cunning trick which had her call Kelth out that his kilt was all crawled up, she managed to distract him, though not fully, as he was suspecting a dirty trick indeed. Dust swirled as the two warriors fought another with sheer determination to win, but after a swift tumble and spin, Daneira landed first cut on Kelth's pectortal and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards and ending on his back.
Even before Daneira could be declared winner, she grabbed Kelth by his black manes and began to drag him off. Rumors had it that she took Kelth to a barn. The truth was, she indeed took Kelth to a barn, where they spent a passionate night together and ended up sealing lifebond within the same week.
They were young, they were of Wolf-Lodge, they were in love and they were happy, until the day she died in his arms. It was that fated day when Orcs invaded, that robbed the young warrior of those he loved so dearly. Barely enough time to make them all a proper grave, but Kelth had done his outmost best for them and had prayed.
Vegeance and hatred gripped his heart and consumed it, especially after he discovered that Orcs had desecrated Daneira's grave.
The harsh truth
Gunna and Jandarr, Kelth's mother and the man who had been the person closest to compare to having a father, now lay at rest, together. Kelth always had suspicions, during his training, and Jandarr could bear it no longer. He had Kelth come over to him and together they rode to Gunna, the three speaking in earnest.
Kelth had mixed feelings. Anger for the two not having told him that they were in secret unison, but also glad. If there was any man he had seen as a father, it would have been Jandarr.
Now, bereft of either and not having Daneira to speak with, Kelth found himself building up more and more frustration.
He had slain the Orc-chief, but Daneira's grave still was Desecrated. No matter how hard he tried, the site was ruined.
When the Whychlaran learned the young warrior was planning to leave for a self-claimed quest for vengeance, after he learned the Orcs were actually hirelings from Thayans, they summoned Kelth in order to command him to stay. However, word already had begun to spread that the young warrior had found a group of Durthan who already actively had tried to stop him from leaving and that he had killed them. In truth, Kelth indeed did kill them, but only after learning the boy's real father, had been a Red Dragon in human guise. An utterly secret agreement betwixt Durthan and Hathran, had Rashemi women of notable warrior-bloodlines, mate and bear child in this fashion. These children were to become a new breed of Whychlaran, warriors or berserkers, in order to tip the scales in the war against Thay in the favor of Rashemen.
Needless to say, Kelth seethed with anger and ran away, back to the grave of the young woman who had been his wife. She, his brothers in battle, they all had fought for Rashemen, bled and died. For Kelth, it all seemed for naught, the lies, the anger. The young man felt as if he had paid his debt to the lands he had called home more than sevenfold. The Hathran, confronted by their own choices and results, had to bear this shame now. It had begun to dawn in on them, just how desperate and severe their choice had been. Both now adult men and women with dormant Dragon Blood, were among various ranks of Wytches, Warriors or Berserkers, killing them would be wrong and it was understandable the boy was filled with anger. One could only hope, however, that when the moment came his blood would awaken, he would not be consumed by the nature of Red, that his training would be enough to have him control it..
Chosen, or a choice made
Kelth sat by Daneira's grave. He had slept next to it, after drinking too much Yhuild. A crow sat, perched upon the branch of a dead tree, cawing at him and canting it's head.
Suddenly it shifted into the form of a hauntingly beautiful woman. Her hair raven-black, tight leathers embracing her curves, walking with grace beyond what Kelth ever had seen. Here mere presence forced him to remain seated on his knees.
"This, this will not do, at all. A disgrace, is it not? Kelth?" The woman spoke.
"Let us speak in earnest, young Kelth. Your heart, it is heavy with rage, anger, the desire to cleave those responsible for this all. We can sense it. Your desire to rip foes apart in brutal combat.
We happen to have a special place in our heart for those who are ready to engage in such.
We can restore this place for you, you know? Restore honor upon her so that she might properly be carried off on my wings to the afterlife. She was a devoted follower of us..."
Kelth blinked at the words, Daneira did perform her rituals at home, she worshipped The Morrigan. Kelth did not get to the point to discuss her faith in depth, yet, the multiverse had robbed her from him before he had the chance to do such.
"Wh...who are ye?" Kelth stammered.
"I am known as The Morrigan, Kelth. Not many concern themselves with my excistence. Your wife, however, did. Now we leave you a choice, young Kelth. Will you take our hand and follow our guidance, allow her to make her passage as she was promised? Or, will you drink yourself to death here, likely starve, in self-pity?"
It was that day, when Kelth became a follower of The Morrigan, setting off on his quest for vengeance.
Ensiferum- Tale of Revenge
He bears a tale so gloom and tragic never to be known
Into darkness now fallen, into hatred now grown
Like stillborn child drifting in the silent seas
Of blood, crushing all his dreams
No castle walls can hold the fury in his eyes
Devotion for death, now controls his life
No gold or silver can bring him consolation
Only one thing is left inside him, the desire of revenge
One light so cold and pale, sleeping quietly all alone
One life so old and gray, wandering away from home
Parted with a horrid cry, snow falls on his grief
United by the sword of wicked screams
What deeds he has done to hear those dreadful sounds
In the ruins of memories he wanders, forever bound
Forever bound to death!
Wait for me in the mountains, haunt for me in the winds
Wait for me in the land where nothing lives
Until the day I have found revenge, I will feed my sword
Until my heart is cold, every breath of mine is yours
Kelth had his fist, clenched on his chest. His head was lowered. Jandarr, the man who had looked after him and gave advice during those years of training, smiled as the line of berserkers, of which Kelth was one, were marked as those of the Wolf-Lodge.
Kelth's form looked battered, bruised and a healed up cut adorned his left pectoral. A mark left there by a certain woman, who had claimed him as her husband.
It happened swiftly and it caused young Kelth to grin. A tournament was held, only the top twelve participating warriors would be allowed into the Lodge. One of the warriors, was Daneira, lacking any magical talents, Daneira dedicated herself to harsh training in order to claim a place among the Wolves. Hair, crimson and lush, loose and accompanied by one thick braid, green hued eyes and a clearly trained, voloptuous woman, Daneira was respected and admired by many a warrior, both female or male.
Kelth secretly always had fancied her, but thought her not being interested in him. In truth, she was interested in him and felt disrespected the young warrior never had asked her to dance with him during feasts, always flirting about with other people.
Kelth and Daneira were the finalists, and with a cunning trick which had her call Kelth out that his kilt was all crawled up, she managed to distract him, though not fully, as he was suspecting a dirty trick indeed. Dust swirled as the two warriors fought another with sheer determination to win, but after a swift tumble and spin, Daneira landed first cut on Kelth's pectortal and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards and ending on his back.
Even before Daneira could be declared winner, she grabbed Kelth by his black manes and began to drag him off. Rumors had it that she took Kelth to a barn. The truth was, she indeed took Kelth to a barn, where they spent a passionate night together and ended up sealing lifebond within the same week.
They were young, they were of Wolf-Lodge, they were in love and they were happy, until the day she died in his arms. It was that fated day when Orcs invaded, that robbed the young warrior of those he loved so dearly. Barely enough time to make them all a proper grave, but Kelth had done his outmost best for them and had prayed.
Vegeance and hatred gripped his heart and consumed it, especially after he discovered that Orcs had desecrated Daneira's grave.
The harsh truth
Gunna and Jandarr, Kelth's mother and the man who had been the person closest to compare to having a father, now lay at rest, together. Kelth always had suspicions, during his training, and Jandarr could bear it no longer. He had Kelth come over to him and together they rode to Gunna, the three speaking in earnest.
Kelth had mixed feelings. Anger for the two not having told him that they were in secret unison, but also glad. If there was any man he had seen as a father, it would have been Jandarr.
Now, bereft of either and not having Daneira to speak with, Kelth found himself building up more and more frustration.
He had slain the Orc-chief, but Daneira's grave still was Desecrated. No matter how hard he tried, the site was ruined.
When the Whychlaran learned the young warrior was planning to leave for a self-claimed quest for vengeance, after he learned the Orcs were actually hirelings from Thayans, they summoned Kelth in order to command him to stay. However, word already had begun to spread that the young warrior had found a group of Durthan who already actively had tried to stop him from leaving and that he had killed them. In truth, Kelth indeed did kill them, but only after learning the boy's real father, had been a Red Dragon in human guise. An utterly secret agreement betwixt Durthan and Hathran, had Rashemi women of notable warrior-bloodlines, mate and bear child in this fashion. These children were to become a new breed of Whychlaran, warriors or berserkers, in order to tip the scales in the war against Thay in the favor of Rashemen.
Needless to say, Kelth seethed with anger and ran away, back to the grave of the young woman who had been his wife. She, his brothers in battle, they all had fought for Rashemen, bled and died. For Kelth, it all seemed for naught, the lies, the anger. The young man felt as if he had paid his debt to the lands he had called home more than sevenfold. The Hathran, confronted by their own choices and results, had to bear this shame now. It had begun to dawn in on them, just how desperate and severe their choice had been. Both now adult men and women with dormant Dragon Blood, were among various ranks of Wytches, Warriors or Berserkers, killing them would be wrong and it was understandable the boy was filled with anger. One could only hope, however, that when the moment came his blood would awaken, he would not be consumed by the nature of Red, that his training would be enough to have him control it..
Chosen, or a choice made
Kelth sat by Daneira's grave. He had slept next to it, after drinking too much Yhuild. A crow sat, perched upon the branch of a dead tree, cawing at him and canting it's head.
Suddenly it shifted into the form of a hauntingly beautiful woman. Her hair raven-black, tight leathers embracing her curves, walking with grace beyond what Kelth ever had seen. Here mere presence forced him to remain seated on his knees.
"This, this will not do, at all. A disgrace, is it not? Kelth?" The woman spoke.
"Let us speak in earnest, young Kelth. Your heart, it is heavy with rage, anger, the desire to cleave those responsible for this all. We can sense it. Your desire to rip foes apart in brutal combat.
We happen to have a special place in our heart for those who are ready to engage in such.
We can restore this place for you, you know? Restore honor upon her so that she might properly be carried off on my wings to the afterlife. She was a devoted follower of us..."
Kelth blinked at the words, Daneira did perform her rituals at home, she worshipped The Morrigan. Kelth did not get to the point to discuss her faith in depth, yet, the multiverse had robbed her from him before he had the chance to do such.
"Wh...who are ye?" Kelth stammered.
"I am known as The Morrigan, Kelth. Not many concern themselves with my excistence. Your wife, however, did. Now we leave you a choice, young Kelth. Will you take our hand and follow our guidance, allow her to make her passage as she was promised? Or, will you drink yourself to death here, likely starve, in self-pity?"
It was that day, when Kelth became a follower of The Morrigan, setting off on his quest for vengeance.
Ensiferum- Tale of Revenge
He bears a tale so gloom and tragic never to be known
Into darkness now fallen, into hatred now grown
Like stillborn child drifting in the silent seas
Of blood, crushing all his dreams
No castle walls can hold the fury in his eyes
Devotion for death, now controls his life
No gold or silver can bring him consolation
Only one thing is left inside him, the desire of revenge
One light so cold and pale, sleeping quietly all alone
One life so old and gray, wandering away from home
Parted with a horrid cry, snow falls on his grief
United by the sword of wicked screams
What deeds he has done to hear those dreadful sounds
In the ruins of memories he wanders, forever bound
Forever bound to death!
Wait for me in the mountains, haunt for me in the winds
Wait for me in the land where nothing lives
Until the day I have found revenge, I will feed my sword
Until my heart is cold, every breath of mine is yours