A hero from another land searching for an evil-doer that he knows little about? Let me guess, does your determination burn like fire in your eyes? How original. Heh. n/t:

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Posted by Defiler on October 11, 1999 at 16:25:43:

In Reply to: A cool story, if you like stories. posted by Vorador on October 11, 1999 at 15:32:31:

> Heh, strange things can happen while you think of a background story for your char.
> Notice that I begin using third person, but as I get involved, first person is used.
>



> Vorador is from another dimension, another realm, another world. Not even himself can precise for sure.
> Farming presented no great highlights on his life. The mother and the father had just arrived to a new land when he was born. New land claimed by a warlord to which they belonged to.
> Childhood was brief as with the age of three the labors of the land was to him presented. There was few reasons for joy, even to smile there. But his father did the best, working incessantly, soon they lived in the best home of the whereabouts, save the warlord's keep. His mother was not behind, but in another field, providing love, strength and support which led them to proeminent status, even buying their own freedom seemed possible in the years to come. Brothers and sisters arrived, totalling eigth children who learned to work, and hard.ö

>
Now counting twenty springs, he was about to know how life can be harsh. Mortanius, the warlord, showing no interest in losing such productive servants by the ancient laws of freedom, ordered their house to be burned down. Nonetheless the gold equivalent to one year's work of the family was already counted, and Hummelstag, his father, decided that if it was to build another home, it'd be a free home.
> To the warlord he went, and by the ancient law he set his family free for all generations. From the ashes of the house they chanted happily, gathering what the flames haven't consumed and preparing to journey and for a new life. The dawn was to mean their departure, said his father, for in the cold darkness of the night we shall not travel. And they camped among the trees.
> But the night didn't bring only cold and darkness, rogue figures appeared from the shadows to take with them the souls of his beloved ones. Hummelstag put quite a fight, allowing Evellyn, his mother, to grab the two youngest ones and flee, as Vorador did the same with the closest brothers he saw. "Do not look back, just run like the wind!" said his mother, but the deathcries he left behind would forever haunt them.

>
They travelled all night and dawn brought no signs of civilization, forcing them to walk, even crawl, for they couldn't stop, until a village was found. Luckly finding the Letter of Freedom with them, the local militia presented no problems, as if they needed more, for gold they had none and to trade only the clothing of the body. The local tavern owner was kind to let momma and I work for the food and shelter that we accepted upon arrival.
> "It's not safe here", said Evellyn, "This is too close to Mortanius lands and I feel that whoever were the beasts slaying us in the night will come after us, we must depart at once." There was no time to even shed a tear, with our lives at stake, we wouldn't let my father die in vain trying to protect us, so on the road we once again were. When we reached a bifurcation, I remember thinking loudly, what despite being true, brought tears to me: "They are looking for a woman and five youngs on the run...". Evellyn halted as if struck in place. She slowly turned her head and stared into my eyes, saying: "You are right, we must split up if we are to survive!", "Take your sister Frenning as your wife should anyone ask, and Malcom and Thoodin as thee friends and go", said her pointing northeast, "I'll take Hannela for she's too young and need my care the most, and we'll head there,", pointing to the mountains northwest, "wherever it takes us.". They all hugged very tightly each other, tears coming to all, and resumed travel without saying goodbye.

>
The four of us arrived to a town, just in time to hear the local sergeant at the market square, shouting something about new recruits. We needed whatever job we could find, thus we, Malcom, Thoodin and myself, headed to the old, white beared sergeant. I remember he asked lots of questions, including about my sister/wife, but finnaly accepted us to a trial. The hard work of farming prooved to have other fruits, and we all were accepted. Thoodin was to work as messenger due to his fast legs, Malcom was strong and agile and as guard he was trained. To me, due a fast mind and precise gestures, was of best interest to work with the weapons-master, which I excelled in a few years. My two brothers were granted quarters at the stronghold, I earned a bit more so I could live with my "wife". Nonetheless she got herself aa assistant cook position in one of the town's taverns.
> The hard work and painful memories kept us together always, even more between me and Frenning since we lived together and to the general public, we were husband and wife. Some months was necessary to make the acting and lies to start becoming truth and fact. From the shy kiss we once had under pressure of doubtful eyes, we found tenderness and refugee in each other's arms, and so the fake marriage turned into real marriage.

>
Years passed and our blood let clear it's strength, for in nine years Malcom was now lieutenant, Thoodin the personnal messenger of the Baron, and I became weapons-master in twelve years, upon the death of the old one. In years to come I had childs, my brothers married (funny as they never said a word about me and Frenning), and by the age of fourty-nine I bought the tavern were my wife worked. We never again saw or heard of our mother, despite Thoodin always inquiring way when he had the oportunity to travel towards those mountains. Life was not perfect, but good afterall, we re-learned to smile, sing and dance, always united.
> When I counted fifty-six springs I barely recalled that tragic night thrity-six years ago, when something forced me to. It was about midnight, Malcom and I were heading to the tavern were Frenning had prepared our supper, Thoodin was on the road, still a messenger, one of the best even with fifty springs on his back. As we approached the lights and sniffed the air trying to figure out what Frenning might have cooked, screams rips the nights silence abruptly. We ran. Too late. My beloved Frenning lied in a pool of blood, neck dilacerated, lifeless. A strong looking figure standed there, black armor shinning with the lanterns light, hands and mouth covered in blood. Malcom didn't hesitate for a second, drew his sword and jumped on the stranger. What treachery is that?!? The humaoid holds Malcom in mid-air with only one hand, to then throw him against the wall with unbelievable strength. I ran to him, and empty carcass was what was left of him, bleeding all over. I wielded his sword and turned. Eyes filled with anger. I swing my sword against him but what??? He dissolves into smoke as the blade crosses were he should be, to reapear just after. He holds my wrist and I hear the cracking of my bones shattering. Pulling me to him I feel my neck being dilacerated, I glance to Frenning on the ground... blank.

>
Next thing I remember is a strange, guttural voice: "I can give you a second chance. A chance for revenge on the one that slaughtered your entire family."
> "My family...", I moan.
> "Your father and some of your brothers, he ordered. Your mother and young sister, it was him. Frenning and Malcom, and yourself, it was him.", the guttural voice echoed.
> I could see nothing, and believe to be sleeping, but I didn't care. I felt rage pulsing through my veins, my muscles tightening up by the very though of the murderer of my family. I cried out "YES!! Nothing else matters to me but revenge, yes!"
> "Very well, Vorador. I shall imbue you with powers that will allow you to enact your revenge, in time. I shall grant you a new life for that, and I shall leave you in the land where this creature lives. When you master the powers I give you now, hunt him down you shall.", spoke him in a pleased toned of voice, which I was unable to asses at the time. "Open your eyes.", he commanded. The light was dim and sourceless, the room spaceless for I saw no walls. I was lying down at an altar, I though I was being sacrificed but... I was already dead! I searched the place for the owner of that strange voice. I think I'd loose all my breath if I did breath at all, a skeleton-like figure floated in the air by my side. The green pinpoints where the eyes should be glared at me, and a strange energy flowed between us, a crackling was heard, I could feel my skin itching and my stomach being turned upside-down. Meanwhile his voice penetrated my mind "Grow strong and seek him, Vorador, and when you kill him, I'll come to you to claim my price!". I passed out.
>



> Here begings the adventures of Vorador in Thera :)


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