Ulthinius the Learned of Owaza

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Role

Chapter 1

Ulthinius stood upon the dusty north road, tapping his blade in the dirt
while looking at the mountains to the east. The sun was setting behind him,
outlining his form. He sighed heavily and started towards the mountains,
reaching the western end of the pass as darkness took the world. The whole
night he climbed and clambered through the pass, trudging through snow
drifts, avoiding pitfalls and small avalanches.Ulthinius reached the
forested lands that were once his home just as the sun crested the trees.

All he had to do was take a step, just move his legs and into the forest he
would go, home again. But he could not, he hesitated and held his breath,
pacing along the western eaves of Ar'atouldain.Finally, after perhaps
twenty minutes of battle in his own mind, his feet took one, then two steps,
and the next he knew, he was moving quickly down the path, doing his best to
avoid patrols. Ulthinius crossed the river without incident, and soon
approached the king's favored spot while in the forest.Ulthinius began to
approach, almost drawn from the brush, but he held himself, this man had cast
him forever from the lands, surely he would set his bodyguard upon him.He
would not forgive the one he had come to blame for the loss of his best and
most trusted captain. Ulthinius turned, moving south and east towards the
place he once called home.

As Ulthinius approached his former home, a staggering grief came upon him, he
could hardly walk. He stumbled and fell to his knees, overcome with unknown
emotions. He struggled to his feet and continued on. Suddenly a fear came
upon him, 'They are still here' his instincts screamed, 'find them and kill
them.' He crouched and gripped his blades, preparing for battle against the
evil wizards, but then he realized his delusion, he had killed them, and the
villagers had exterminated its sources.He relaxed the grip on his blades as
he came into the clearing where he had known so many happy times, and the
despair came again, forcing him again to his knees. This time, he could not
rise for hours, he could only stare at the ground, and pray that the spirits
of his father and brothers would come to him and lend him strength in his
quest for vengeance.
"Father.brothersspirits come to me.guide my blades and lead me to
Vengeance" he muttered while staring at the ground.
He finally looked up, looking around for the remnants of his home. Gone,
overgrown, time had forgotten the village of wardens. He slowly rose to his
feet, hanging his head low.
"For the spirits, Vengeance for the spirits, I will not let them down."
The moon was high in the Theran sky when he started into the mountain pass on
his return trip.

Ulthinius stood upon the dusty north road, tapping his blade in the dirt
while looking at the mountains to the north. The rising sun gracing the right side of his face.
"Perhaps the spirits reside in the great mead hall, the hall of their lord?"
Another moment of thought.
"No, they are home, hunting in the wilds and protecting their lands, wreaking
terrible Vengeance upon any that dare desecrate that place."
Ulthinius turned towards the civilized lands and sprinted down the road, a
call was going up, "To arms, to arms, we go to take the scepter and codex!"

Role

Chapter 2

"I find the village suits me well, though my uncle would be most ashamed of my
living conditions. This place reminds me more of my father and brothers, I am not
at peace, but I find this place sates both my anger and uncertainty. I am meant to
be here, and was spared for a reason. While it seems the drow are to be forever
surrounded by fools, I can at least partially relate to the others within these
fortifications. I find I must catch myself not to use the crude speech and wanton
slang of my compatriots, I wonder if I shall forget my education in speech and
manners while surrounded by these barbarians. I must say I despise the
drunkenness I feel is rampant amongst the villagers, should I ever be in a position
of respect, that will surely stop."

"I have decided not to build a hut amongst my fellow battleragers. I have taken to
the vale just north of the village proper. There I have carved my initials under a
provide good shade on hot days. I feel very at home in the vale, as though the
spirits of my father and brothers are close at hand. There is also excellent hunting
in the vale. I have killed many deer, which Grime uses to make venison sides for
sale. Though he does something to them that nearly ruins the meat, perhaps that is
why they do not rot. There are also wolves and a few bears. I have killed only
four of the wolves, and have been hunting one of the bears for nearly five years
now. He is a great and ancient beast. He stands easily ten feet in height. His
massive head and paws remind me of the bear I slew many years ago, the one
which nearly opened me up. I gave him a great scar across his left should in one of
our battle, but lost his trail in a dense part of the forest. It will be a great kill,
worthy of story and song."

"Of my comrades, I have the most respect for Lerimos, if only he would realize
that drow, and not arials are the pinnacle of the gods' creation. Also, the cloud
giant Dolza, an able warrior, and knows his place. I believe Muriont as well will
prove a good and useful ally. Perhaps I relate more to the giants because the
culture of their kind is similar to that of my father and brothers. I believe Kaisse,
the commander of this motley band, is, as humans are wont to be, basically inept.
Though I must respect his position and favor amongst the gods. Though the old
man has lasted long in this brutal war, perhaps that is to be respected. The dwarf
bitch Ysaleorye is a most disgusting creature, and I take great pleasure each time
she is hurt. I have no use whatsoever for dwarves. Vranth, the felar, is an able
warrior, but must learn his place, his is a race of slaves, not to be on equal terms
with one such as myself. Silantario, the human, dares to call me kin. He thinks
that because we fight the same war, we are somehow brethren, he is sadly mistaken
and the ignorance of the human race once again shows itself in him. The others
are as I expect them to be, proud and courageous warriors, with brains fit only for
the least intelligent of drow children."

"Of my enemies I find the magi are most exceptionally easy targets, and I have
been little challenged by any who are not dark knights. Save one conjurer, angels
are a most disagreeable adversary. The fire giant

. The fire giant Vincero is a great beast of a fire
giant. I have never battled one so strong in my nearly one hundred and ninety
years of life. A pity he chooses to fight for the black magic, as he would be a most
useful ally. I truly wish for the whole destruction of the Fortress of Light. They
plague my every move and hamper my war against magic. They will pay for their
transgressions however. Perhaps I will seek favor from the god of vengeance, and
show the Maran true evil. Perhaps….perhaps if I burned the city of Darsylon to
the ground and left it a smoldering ruin….perhaps that would sufficiently sate my
anger towards them. That would leave a deep wound in them I think. My anger
finds the greatest fuel in Nashan, a dimwitted human who shares my profession.
He doggedly pursues me in his misguided crusade. I also find a deep hatred for
Fingon, the elvish paladin, I should think the destruction of his homeland would
way most heavily upon him.”

Role

Chapter 3

The job was simple, waylay a mage and his three bodyguards as they traversed the
mountains east of Udgaard and bring back the three large sacks of emeralds. He
would be well compensated, but he didn't care, as his hatred for wizards was
already great. Ulthinius added the four heads to the motley assortment of those
already on stakes outside of Udgaard and returned to the marketplace where he had
been trading furs only a few days before. His employer stepped from the shadows
and approached him with a sack of silver. There were three hundred twenty pieces
inside.
"Well done hunter, you have my thanks."

Ulthinius' benefactor was a man of his own race. He later learned the man was
once a thief of some renowned turned to a captain of organized crime in Udgaard.
Over the next year and a half, Ulthinius took many jobs from the man, growing
quite rich in his own right. He and the man became friends in their own manner,
and Ulthinius earned a reputation around Udgaard. The forests and mountains
became less traveled, and his benefactor suggested they look for new surrounds.
Ulthinius agreed and the two of them headed south for Galadon.

Upon arrival in Galadon, the benefactor took on a different manner, one of a well-
to-do merchant. He paraded Ulthinius about the bourgeois of that massive city as
to-do merchant. He paraded Ulthinius about the bourgeois of that massive city as
his nephew who escaped the clutches of the Underdark(partially true at least) and
began to instruct Ulthinius in the ways of civilization. Ulthinius was an eager
learner, and easily influenced by the silver tongue of the mysterious man, for he
dearly needed a father-figure and his new benefactor was well aware of that fact.

In just about five years, the re-education of Ulthinius was nearly complete. He
became learned in the ways of civilization, the history of Thera, and the ways of its
peoples. He was convinced that drow are the apex of creation. He was instructed
in the arts of deception and concealment. He walked by day as a merchant dealing
in the distribution of furs, and the alleys by night, waylaying unsuspecting citizens.
His benefactor taught him to harness his anger, for it would often boil over and his
robberies would turn to bloody murders. The anger seeped of course from the
deep wound left upon him by the murder of his father and brothers, to whom he
still thought often. His "uncle" as he called him from habit, showed him how to
conceal that anger, to lie in wait to unleash his anger, whether by a few simple
words against someone to one of his powerful friends, a sack of coins to a knife in
the dark, or his own blade through the back of an unsuspecting enemy. Ulthinius
quickly became what he had nearly avoided, a true drow.

Ulthinius and his "uncle" were on legitimate business in Hamsah Mu'tazz, when
his world was once again stripped from him. A knock at the door of his lavish
room overlooking the Khalid river roused Ulthinius from a dream about two
human women who were doing the most unscrupulous things. He silently crossed
the room, his silken robes fluttering in the evening breeze. The door opened and
no one was there, confused, he turned and a flash caught his eye. He looked down,
and there was the head of his

, with a diamond the size of his fist jammed into
his bloody mouth. Ulthinius dislodged the diamond, wiped it clean and gathered
his things. He stepped over the head of his benefactor without looking back. He
did not even know the man’s name.

Ulthinius lived on the streets of the Sultan’s city for nearly a year, employing
himself with his relatively newly found skill of murder. As his reputation grew, word reached the Royal Society of Assassins, who sponsored his enrollment into the Great Academy.

Role

Chapter 4

Ulthinius made the short journey west to Evermoon Hollow to seek aid and
counsel from the king and the other wardens. Ulthinius had always been regarded
as a bit of an outcast, and his arrival alone raised immediate suspicions. He was
received coldly by the king, who quickly became his inquisitor and demanded to
know who was responsible for this tragedy. Despite his vehement denial of any
wrongdoing, Ulthinius was blamed and exiled from the Evermoon Hollow, never
to return. He was arrested and escorted to the edge of their realms. But there,
hope was given him, one of his escorts had fought many battles under his
command, and assured him that he would bring others, and they would seek out his
family's murderers.

Two days later, as the sun disappeared over the horizon, thirty of his former men
joined him at a camp on the western eaves of Ar'atouldain. They had found the
trail of the killers. They were still unsure who they were, but they were sure they
had been badly hurt and would be moving slow. The hunters left under cover of
darkness and sped north along the edge of the forest. One the next eve, they
crossed the trail of their quarry. They moved northwest at a steady pace. After a
few hours of rest, the band was on the trail again. They followed the trail for a day
and a half, and it seemed that magic leant their prey unnatural speed. As the sun
approached its apex on the Day of the Bull, in the Month of Battle, a scout spotted
the small band of wizards, stopping for a drink at a stream in a thick grove of oak
trees. Only thirteen of the magi had survived. The wood-elf warriors of Ordasen
were strong indeed! Astinius, the scout and a long time comrade of Ulthinius,
counseled they should exercise caution, wait until they camped and attack by night.
Ulthinius would not hear it.

He charged through the woods, his spear poised for throwing, and as the cry of
alarm went up amongst the magi, the spear of Ergenius hurtled through the air and
drove through the open mouth of a drow invoker. The invoker's head exploded
and the spear slammed into a tree with a resounding thud. The warcry went up
from the inspired warriors who fell upon the unsuspecting wizards with uncanny
violence. Ulthinius narrowly avoided a bolt of lightning shot from the hands of a
black skinned human. Rolling one his shoulder he came up and let his hand-axe
fly. It buried itself in the chest of the mage, splitting his breastbone and spraying
crimson blood onto the green forest floor. Ulthinius took two more as he leapt
forward, first driving his sword through the back of one and in one motion,
withdrawing the sword, spinning and cutting from the right shoulder to the left
hipbone of the next stunned magician. The next thing he knew he was on his face
as a huge, pale-skinned human smashed against him with a round, steel shield.
Ulthinius rolled just in time to hear the crash of a large mace against the ground
where his head had been. He fought to gain his feet, parrying and rolling on the
ground away from his mighty foe. A swift kick to the inside of his attacker's knee
caused him to falter and before Ulthinius could rise, the spear of Astinius showed
its point through the stunned anti-paladin's stomach. The dark knight turned

in a desperate attempt tried to call a fireball from his hands. He faltered in his
incantation and exploded into a ball of flame. Ulthinius was instantly on his feet
and sprinting down the riverbank towards a fleeing mage, the last survivor of the
wrath of the wood elves.

Ulthinius closed the distance in less than a minute and was nearly upon him when wings shot from the fugitive’s cloaks and he bounded into the air. Six neatly
placed arrows dropped him before he had cleared the trees. The arial crashed to
the ground and had nearly completed his spell when Ulthinius’ foot cracked his
beak and knocked him unconscious. When the mage awoke, he sat at the point of
a bloody spear and his interrogators surrounding him. Ulthinius and his men
cruelly tortured the arial for six hours before even asking the first question. When
he was allowed to speak he told them all and begged for mercy. Ulthinius would
not have it. While they camped and recovered from their wounds for four days,
the prisoner’s feathers were plucked one at a time, each of his talons pulled from
his feet, and his wings slowly cut to long bloody ribbons. They spread him
between two trees, rolled large rocks onto his feet, and left him alive, surrounded
by his dead and mangled comrades, and set off for the mountains, where the dark
academy for which Ulthinius was first destined nearly fifty years before. They had
not lost a single man.

For a three whole years they wandered through the mountains, searching for the black tower of magic. Two of his men had fallen to an orcish ambush not a week after their victory in the oak grove, one had been struck by lightning while hunting, and four more in a battle with a band of nearly fifty mages. After that victory, the master of the tower had used magic to conceal his tower. His men grew weary, the game began to run out, and despair began to weigh on Ulthinius. If they even
found the blasted tower, how could twenty three men storm a tower defended by an obviously powerful magician. He had decided in one more day, if they did not find it, he would release his men and wander the world for the rest of his days. As they sat around the campfire, a great warcry could be heard in the next valley, and then an explosion like nothing they had heard before. On their feet and armed in an instant, the weary travelers clambered up the ridge. As they reached the top, they saw a huge battle, warriors of every race, dressed in skins, hides and dented armor, assaulted the black tower. The rushed to the aid of these warriors and
joined the fray. But they were nearly too late, their band had killed only six
mages before the end of the battle. Ulthinius approached the victorious
commander and related the story of his band. These men were Battleragers, an
army dedicated to the destruction of magic. Ulthinius thanked them, and wandered
through the tower, losing count of the bodies well past four hundred.

Ulthinius left his band and traveled west through the mountains, coming at last to Udgaard. He lived in the forests and mountains to the west of there for nearly two years, until a chance meeting, while trading furs within the city. A whisper from the shadows, “I’ve got a job for you.”

Role

Chapter 5

Day of Freedom, Month of the Winter Wolf, 16 years since I have been spared-
Today I start my journal, for today I have learned the truth of my past. Ergenius,
the only father whom I have known these few years, saved me from certain death
as I stood terrified in front my would-be killer. I was the last of a throng of
prisoners taken from my true home, the Underdark, by a band of orcs. Ergenius
and his men intercepted the band and slaughtered everyone, I was the last standing.
Illithonilos, a great warrior, would have killed me had my father not cut him down.
I am not supposed to be. Perhaps I should leave this place.

Day of the Bull, Month of the Frost Giant, 16 years since I have been spared- I
have been in the Underdark three days. Though I have met no one and learned
nothing I will not stay, I long for the open forests and the sun and moon upon my
face, this place is no longer my home.

Day of Thunder, Month of the Battle, 24 years since I have been spared- I have
fought my first engagement as a warden of our people. What an experience! I
have never felt so liberated in all my short life. I cut down seven orcs myself,
though my father and brothers cut down nearly fifty between the three of them.
How I admire their courage and skill. Someday soon, I will be as strong as them.

Day of Deception, Month of the Dragon, 31 years since I have been spared- I have
received a tattoo, what an honor! This is my first, the tattoo is of a white wolf's
paw, in between my shoulder blades, as I have commanded my first successful
engagement. Even my brother Thelius was with me, acting as my second! And
him, with thirteen wolves paws. Though we suffered no losses, my brother has
once again outdone me by killing seventeen orcs to my sixteen.

Day of the Moon, Month of the Battle, 36 years since I have been spared- I have
now received my fourteenth paw. I am ready to be a commander, and lead
missions outside of the forest. Father has said that my brothers would come with
me, but I would still be in command. That is excellent news, since my brothers are
now his top two lieutenants. I only hope I can live up to his high expectations.

*He leaves his journal behind while on expeditions*

Day of the Moon, Month of the Long Shadows, 36 years since I have been spared-
Today we return victorious, though we have lost twelve of our men. My total tally
for our four week expedition is 134 orcs, 12 duergar, 1 minotaur and 19 humans. I
also killed a great bear in the mountains one night while hunting alone. My
brothers have insisted that I receive a bear's paw tattoo upon the right side of my
chest, as it was a might victory. It will go nicely above where the bear nearly
disemboweled me. If he had been three inches close to me, his great paws should
have made a mess of me. As it was, I cut that paw from his arm with one swift
strike of my blade and as he reared to his full height, easily twice my own, I drove
my spear up under his chin and into his brain cavity. He fell at my feet and stared
at me as his life left him. I swear I felt his soul rush through me. I have taken his
claws and will have one of the women make them into a necklace for me.

Day of the Great Gods, Month of the Grand Struggle, 39 years since I have

Today we go west to the Evermoon Hollow, to meet the king of the wood- elves. He honors me for a recent engagement I fought with the bandits who live to our east. He also honors my brothers, for they have returned from the north as
warriors of Ordasen, the Great Bear, they will now spend their lives seeking his
mark. They are truly great warriors, I admire them so. My father himself was
actually marked by Ordasen in only his one hundred and thirtieth year. That is a
most impressive feat, as most wood elves enter the Great Academy at that age, and spend nearly their whole lives as heroes throughout the world before earning that mark. I hope only that one day I might become a warrior of Ordasen.

Day of the Sun, Month of the Battle, 44 years since I have been spared- My brother
Tholius has tattooed my face this day. It is a raven in blood red, with swords
running down from my cheeks on either side. They have taken to calling me
Ravensblade. It seems that the ravens would not touch the victims of wood-elf
slaughter until I took to commanding expeditions. For the last eight years, my
blade has made the ravens fat and happy, so my father says.

Day of Thunder, Month of the Battle, 48 years since I have been spared-
Destroyed!! Our village has been destroyed! I am forsaken! While I was hunting,
it seems a terrible battle has taken place. I see now my brothers, their bodies
wracked in terrible pain with enemies lying dead around them. It looks as though
they were simultaneously burned and frozen. What a sight! I despair!! Most of
the dead are human, though I see at least two fire giants, and even one of my own
race. They are not warriors; they are cloaked in black, with a silver brooch the
shape of a star. There, I see him now, my father. How terrible. His body is
mangled so, but no blade has touched him. There are forty dead at his feet. Our
whole village destroyed, my only family. I will find them and kill them. I will
find them and kill them all.
*Here blood stains the page, as Ulthinius made his oath by cutting his hand with a dirk*

Role

Chapter 6

Ulthinius remembers very little of the following events.

The band of ragged orcs flew through the tunnels of the Underdark with their
duergar guides, grunting and snarling, growing more and more nervous as the
neared the territory of the drow. There were nearly fifty orcs and six duergar
guides, their mission was to kill and capture as many drow children as possible. A
sort of nursery, or prison (depending on your point of view) for male drow children
had been created on the outer edges of the city. These children were destined to be
bodyguards and blademasters. Just on the other side of the outer wall of the
nursery, three svirfneblin slaves were hollowing out an access tunnel for the band
of raiders. The operation was well planned, and as the band of raiders turned the
last corner at a dead run, the outer wall came crashing down inside of the nursery,
killing twelve drow children while they slept.

The slathering band of orcs poured into the nursery like an avalanche and
immediately rushed forward towards the small contingent of guards. The drow cut
down nineteen of the attackers, but were soon overwhelmed, as there were only
three of them. With the guards dead, the orcs looted the nursery, of the few
weapons and over seventy of the bewildered and terrified children, none older than
seven years. Almost as quickly as they hade come, they were gone. Forty six
drow, nineteen orcs dead, three drow still alive though terribly scarred, seventy
four missing.

The band of orcs fled through the Underdark as if the whips of Thrakburzug
himself were at their heels. As they neared the surface they slowed. The split with
their duergar guides and paid them, in flesh. The duergar took with them thirty of
the drow, who were now slaves in the truest sense of the word. The chieftain of
this band went forward into the cave where the benefactors of this operation
waited. They were members of a secret order of black magicians, who wished for
new students. The chieftain was assured his pay would be prompt upon the
delivery of the new students and reminded that time was short, as darkness would
be lifting soon. The mages disappeared with a word and the chieftain led his band
into the blackness of Ar'atouldain. They worked their way west and north,
towards the dark academy.

"Captain Ergenius, the sentries have reported a band of orcs moving through the
forest, they have just crossed the path, they seem to have prisoners of some sort,
children perhaps, nearly forty of them."

"Very well, they shall pay dearly for daring to enter our realm," the captain of the
wardens was a vicious enemy of the orcs, who had killed his wife and daughter,
"Assemble the wardens."

The wood-elf band of forest warriors glided through the dark trees without a
sound, they would cut them off just before they reached the northwestern
boundaries of the forest. They neatly intercepted them and the orcs first warning
was a spear hurled through the dark that split the throat of their chieftain who was
dead before hitting the ground, blood spraying as it forced its way out of his body
around the shaft of the spear. The captain drew his longsword from its sheath and
pulled his hand axe from its fastening at his hip and waded into the terrified orc

His blade rose and fell and a warcry went up amongst his kinsman who whose
bloodlust was growing. As they pushed through the orcs, they realized that the
“prisoners” in tow were drow, mistaking them as conspirators; they cut a swath
through the terrified children. Orc and drow blood stained the tree trunks and
ground a gruesome dark crimson in the full moonlight.

“STAY YOUR HANDS!!!” the captain had just realized that his men were
murdering defenseless children. Despair that nearly knocked him to the ground
washed over him as he thought of his own boys, twins, not yet thirty years of age.
The grief quickly passed as he was once again master of himself. “STAY YOUR
HANDS!!!. These are children!”

“They are drow, better off dead anyways!!” Illithonilos, a huge wood elf, and
bullheaded sergeant of the wardens challenged. “I will kill them all!” He swung
his huge axe twice with lightning quickness, the first decapitating a cowering child
of six, his second never connected, for Ergenius was quicker, and his hand axe was
already embedded between the eyes of the massive sergeant. The last of the drow
children, a four year old, stood upright, stunned at all that had taken place before his eyes and could not move as the huge form of Illithonilos dropped forward onto him.

Ulthinius grew up amongst the family of Ergenius as a son and brother. He was slightly reserved and took to the forest rather well. He was a particularly skillful stalker while hunting, making nearly no noise while in the woods, and always
striking swiftly and accurately. He favored the spear above all other weapons, for he looked dearly upon Ergenius, who was a master with the spear. While the spear was his favorite, the sword was his true calling. By twenty, not even his brothers, who were nearly thirty years his elder, could beat him with a blade. It was at this time, that Ulthinius began to keep a journal.

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