My role for any who is interested.:

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Posted by Minalcar - (DEAD) on June 12, 2000 at 21:07:25:

Your role is:
Added Mon Apr 10 12:10:56 2000 at level 51:
Life is fulfilling to those who make it worthwhile.

I grew among two elder brothers, the younger of the two, taught the
rougher aspects of growing among the Baerna, the clan of the Bear.
It was taught to us that there was the hunt, and there was the war,
rightfully all participated in the hunt, but select warriors in the war.
My father was clan chief, and proud was the family that I lived among.
For it was a time in which little could hurt our clan, we flourished
within the eastern woodlands that made up the dense foliage about
Seantryn Modan.

Disease is a strange occurance, that which is foreign and saps life.
The Baerna clan knew little of how to deal with it as it struck.
Krothga the Fierce was the clan shaman, and prayers did little to cease
the spreading of the dark plague and the locust poison. My brother
Malcolm managed to survive, taking refuge in Seantryn Modan and
serving under the army of the Empress. I would not become as
civilized as he. I took my ill mother and set sail across the Aryth.
My father stayed with the clan.

I know not if any survived, but the village was empty upon my return.

Sadly, my mother died whilst on the waves. I docked at Arkham and set
her to sail upon the burning craft that served as our ship.

I knew nothing of how the great plagues came to tear my clan asunder
but I did come across such beings that could do it to a simpleton.
Horrid creatures would shamble at their sides, Lichen-folk and foul-folk.
The darkest nights they could bring upon one, as well they could
bring the locust and the worms upon you with simple words. I came
across such folk while speaking to a cook, bargaining for food in
an orphanage north of the port city of Thalos. Never have I known
such pain. My new life was introduced as such, one which I felt
the anguish of these Lichen-folk.

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The Great Battle:

In time I came to speak to a young warrior who brought me to a
guildhouse within the city of Galadon. There I came to train in the
blades that would offer me my claws as a young Baerna. I came to
take simple delight in slaying the Lichen-folk who were not so
troublesome should you become the hunter. I was approached then by the
closest yet most distant person I had known, Malcolm, my brother.


He had come to know another clan, so similar to the Baerna,
the BattleRagers. Inspired by Courage, and the hunt, they hunted those of
dark sorcery as well as the weavers of the elements. Any who
would hunt the Lichen-folk would then be known as kindred. Thus,
I set forth and joined him to speak to the leader Nesam.

I was unimpressed. It took little for me to join the clan, but I would
carve my place among them. Each battle would be known with a ferocity that
is only caused or inspired by the Rage of a Baerna, or angered Bear.
Upon completeness, the Baerna clan would be so enraged that they could
assume the form of a bear and bring forth this rage through tooth and
claw. I saught this completeness thus searched for the battle that
would bring it about.

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The Lichen-Folk:

I have come to face one foe, individually he is superior to all of the clan.
Zorszaul has come to spread that foul disease, and bring forth locusts
with odd stones that he raises with his might. Never have I seen such
death caused by one soul. It has become my personal choice to bring
bring him down. I will stop at no costs to do such. He will be
the end of the Lichen-folk and the battle which will bring about the Rage

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Asmodeus. A cynical Arch-Duke with more wisdom than any I have encountered.
I have come to learn he is my only salvation in this pitiful realm. He has
come to teach me that mere mortals are selfish and thus true to their own
instincts. How I thought I had found glory upon the Cliffs of Cocytus.
How I thought to become a legend in my village, only to hear the feats that
came to the villagers who passed the mighty visage of the Prince of Darkness.
It was upon this time that Asmodeus came to me. Bearing whispers of how mighty
I am. About how mighty I can be, under his banner. Thus I came to know he
who would command me. Never had I known any way but my own. Now I slay in his
name. Ironic how things change. Many a year it took to relearn the craft of
the blade. For he wiped my mind out of the past, to teach me the now. I have
become mightier, through my knowledge of him. Yet I still yearn to learn more.
I wish to know of this Arch-Duke. His past must be filled with achievements
which have brought him the power he now holds. Would the Price of Darkness
relenquish him of myself? Or would he find me such an asset to his War that
he would keep me within his ranks? Oddly he is mysterious. This entices
me to fall in rank as his Warlord, and continue my dedication to such a cause.


The lesser and greater devils will know my name. The demons will fear it.

My goals have changed. My Rage is now fully inspired by this Arch-Duke.
I will not adhere to anyone but my Arch-Duke. He has brought salvation and
cleansed me of ignorance. I will let anger be my channel and let instincts
rule my swordarm. In the name of his unholy might, Asmodeus, I do pledge this.

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I have been appointed leader of the village. Slaying villagers in a test of
strength for leadership came quite easily and I managed to exact some form of
vengeance upon those who betrayed me in the Inferno. Ludi took his life soon
after, which brought a slight grin to my face. My first task is to end this war
with the Empire. I have long been facinated at their style of War and believe
that mere ingorance to the mages that dwell in the palace, keep the blades from
becoming a powerful force. I have approached both Simka the Warmaster and Aradan
the High Priest and settled a pact. Their divines will inspire faith to the
villagers by spreading the words of the Dark Gods. The blades will learn courage
from our village and we as a village will learn tactics from the blades. If
anything, I know my mere presence will bring this village to rise over the
Imperial power and these two fools will be shunned by their Imperial Warlords.
Through this, I see the village only growing stronger, while the Empire risks
the possibility of growing weaker.

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My mind dwindles with this boredom. I am left only with the knowledge of the
blades. No longer can I effectively strike at my foes with whips or flails,
yet still I have become deadly to my foes. How many have I slain now? Over
three hundred lives have shed blood upon my blade. I come to find myself
angered with those I command. Some are promising, others are completely
ignorant. They know very little of Warfare and die meaningless deaths.
I step from my huts only to have them surround me always gazing toward me for
inspiration and leadership. I am sickened. These who call themselves barbarians,
these who call themselves BattleRagers are driven by self-pity and self-worth.

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My corruption is my salvation. These words were laid upon me as I stood over the
corpse of Hifflio, the appointed Tower Leader, by the infernal Arch-Duke. Hifflio
mimics the tiger in his magical craft but has the sense of a dull boar. I have slain
him many times over now and come to respect that he has some sense of leadership, if
only he would quit sending his worthless taunts to me from afar he might prove more
effective in battle.

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It has been many days since I have found any semblance of a challenge. The Lich is
rare to make his presence known, thus I find myself taking more risks to suffice my
demonic nature. I have begun a war with the Dawn, though I find them too easy to
prey upon. Thus I have begun my own war with the Arbiters. The village will be
told to take it on and we overthrow the cities. Many of them have felt the need to
take refuge and when they do find themselves lacking the book, they are quick natured
to take shelter and hiding. What amuses me most is that Quintius is the bearer of words
in which Arbiters claim a War upon the village. Amusing since he rallies the cause to
take refuge at any sign of trouble. It will be interesting how this turns out.

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A final passage of words. I care little for what is to occur, I only know that demons
have found my body as a host. Rage wells deep inside me as I find that this village
needs a leader to bring them to War. I swore long ago I would return the betrayal I
had felt upon the cliffs, tenfold, to this very village I swore to lead. BoltThrower
chooses to ignore it. Thus I rise like those very giants upon the Cliffs and challenge
the Gods. I shall turn against the village and betray them ultimately by slaying them
and allowing the wizards of the Tower to slay the women and children in the village.
I will then leave them leaderless, which has proven to show they cannot hope to survive
without a leader.


This very night I come about and the villagers huddle about me, as usual. We are
lacking the head and I make my usual rounds to slay those who challenge us. Visited
by the Arch-Duke Asmodeus, my preparations are made. This day will be remembered and
those who I once led will know me as the Destroyer of the village.

As a side note : BoltThrower, you attempt was well meant and I hope I did not let you down personally. I just am not enjoying the hard work put into this character to see no rewards via false promises. I am also content with how much I did with Minalcar. I fulfilled his role to about where I wanted it.

See you in the Fields.

Minalcar


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