Umarojn K'Ladvri the Weaponsmaster

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Role

Chapter 1

A breeze carries me,
A log in the ebb and flow
Of a blankless sea, drifting
Directionless toward
The vision's edge.

I can feel the water kissing
My legs, splashing one way
And then another like a
Newborn child lightly pattering their
First bath. Sands swallow my feet
And I am engourged as
The winds throw a scent,
Viscous and complete.

Eyes close shut and breaths become
The measure. And I am trapped.

Role

Chapter 2

I have found myself at a crossroads in this life. These days have become
darker and bloodied. It is not the same as when I fought with legions of men
against a horde of the enemy. Instead, there are the few of us and an entire
Empire, seemingly having their way by numbers. My spirit wanes much as the
sun rises once more and the cold winds that blow through the empty Fortress
do not chill me anymore. I cannot feel the blades in my hands for my grip
does not seem to matter. What ruth I seem to have. Yet even now, in perhaps
my darkest hour, my faith has not wavered once.

My promise to her shall stand. Her wish will be done through me as her love
as kept me here. There are times when I feel her presence in some form, be it
in the air or rush of smell, she remains in my thoughts. I once believed that
the Light was secondary to my love, but I see her strength in all my brethren
of the Fortress. For them, I shall press forth as I have done for her. Lord
of the Clarion, please grant me the strength to move forth in this war.

Role

Chapter 3

Crashing in rhythm against the loose,
Rotting trees,
Held up by a foundation of shattered rocks and stones,
The Erinin makes it apart
Of the lucid travel of the mountain cap.

Water slowly drips down her gold hoop ring, condensed
From mist, drops of the falls sprinkled along her
Straightened dark hair.
Her dry lips together, tasting
The spray, full and supple.
And she sits there with me, grasping something.
Beyond our own lives. Effulgent. Ebullient.

I broke the moon for her.
Poured out the light and held it.

She could see
The distance of love, folded
Within a clasped, wet hand.

So much to show her. To share with.
Like a horizon's end on eastern docks.
The clouds slowing to a halt as
Moments are heard. And
I painted a picture over the jade skyline.

The day lifted away into the blanket
Of years. The song undone.

Role

Chapter 4

It is tradition within his tribe to respect those that have passed on before
their own times. Be it a grandfather who lived far beyond his years or a
young son who barely had even begun their walk upon their path, they must be
remembered for their presence. It is such that a widow places the first
letter of their husband's name before their own last name. A widower does
much the same except that an apostrophe is placed after the letter to
indicate great mourning. Women have often been known to be taken as wives
once again after they had lost their first. It is however looked down upon
for a male to call another to be his wife. Men are seen to be the strength of
their heritage and thereby must stand against any test of said might or else
face eternal dishonor.

Role

Chapter 5

He smokes quite a bit. Preferring a short pipe to a long one, Umarojn smokes
his tobacco for several reasons. Often after a good meal, he reaches for his
wooden pipe, curved for aesthetic reasons. There are times when tales are being
told by a communitive fire and a mighty breath of tobacco gives a more
suitable setting for himself. Although it seems that Umarojn engages in such
activity out of mere leisure, in truth, it is a sedative for the fury
within his spirit. His past is one that holds a very grim nature. There are
times when you might see his face smooth of tension and overcome with a look
of relaxation. Though, these moments often turn quickly and his demeanor is
returned to the memory he reserves.