Srathil Spiritclaw the Dweller of the Wilds, Devotee of the Jaguar

Skill List

Role

Chapter 6

Sra'thil had a revelation about the nature of the world through his
discussions studies with Lady Baerinika. Following many talks, which
were difficult for Sra'thil to understand given his very black and white
view of the world of Sra and Weh - he arrived at some interesting
conclusions.

He realized that he was a representation of the world around him - as was
the world externally to him, so was it internally. Despite him being a
creature of light and purity, so too was he a creature who had been
impacted by the darkness around him. His tainted wound a representation
of the taint and darkness that also marred a beautiful world full of life
and love. A living paradox. As he strove to reach the high ideals, and
purity that becomming a Maran of the Fortress would entail - a lack of
care in conduct easily resulted in the loss of an innocent life in the
process. Total imperfection. But it was clear in his studies, that
perfection was not attainable in the pursuit of purity. Only that he
would need to remain dedicated to his ideals, and strive to achieve them
with self-sacrifice and as much courage as he could muster.

His fears are encompassed in this new realization - that he does not have
enough understanding of the taint upon his own scales, to fight it and
heal whatever curse had been placed upon him by the beast of Weh. That
his own imperfections might somehow prevail in a battle to stop him from
being a beacon of Sra within the world. That his comrades, and foes
alike would see his flaws and mistakes in more clarity than his triumphs
and accomplishments.

His dedication to the light, his will to continue fighting is magnified
by a determination to fight the taint that has marred his scales, and the
entirety of the world at large. In hopes that this taint of Weh does not
overtake both his body, and envelope the world. A student of dedication
- he knows that if one battle can be won, both can be won if he is true
to himself, his beliefs, Sra and the Maran's Creed. So he continues to
fight, attempting to dispatch the darkness within himself, and the world
to the best of his ability. Knowing that failure is the foundation of
future triumphs.

Role

Chapter 5

A black owl watched curiously from the tree's as Srathil hastily made his
escape. He fled the village as quick as he possibly could, assuming the
settler and shaman of Weh were in pursuit. He could not fathom they would aid
one another in battle, but on the other hand the bonds of kinship and pursuit
of a better life might outweigh the impossibility in Srathil's mind for a
child of Sra to live with one of Weh.

Srathil ventured off to a far corner of the world, in hopes of losing his
pursuers. His tainted wound leaking some black substance that was
reminiscient of congealed blood. A close call, he considered it. His mind
fluttered back to the black owl he noticed, perched in the tree's just as he
was fleeing the scene. He had been trying to track this owl down for some
time - it was definitely the same one he saw as he awoke from his vision. A
messenger he thought. A spirit of nature watching him, perhaps waiting for
him to communicate with it. Lady Baerinika suggested perhaps it was a
blessing, or omen. Srathil did not know which, but knew he must find out.

An auspicious time for the owl to show up, regardless. He only wished he
hadn't had to flee the scene at that moment. But in his heart he knew he
would see the creature again. After a good while of pondering the events -
Srathil used a potion of recall to return to the village, hoping to leave the
wicked saurian, and the child of Sra out of harms way. It irked him, that he
was not able to dispatch the saurian of Weh before he fled. But he would not
harm the light, to hunt the wicked.

Srathil is transported safely back to the temple of his home, and set's about
to embark on another adventure. As he heads east out of the temple, the
settler and child of Sra scream at him and begin assaulting him with teeth and
claw. Instinctively his spear slides into the settlers chest - leaving him in
a pool of blue blood. Srathil feels his tainted wound grow warm. But a
sickening feeling sets upon his gut. He screams in horror realizing that the
settler of Sra did not in fact chase him off into some far corner of Thera,
but stayed within his new home and remembered the assault upon the shaman of
Weh.

Srathil's face grew mortified, the corpse of the settler still impaled upon
his spear. It was one swift blow, reactionary - but it did not miss it's
mark. Tears welled up in his eyes, as the realization that he had
unintentionally killed one of Sra, set in. He fled the village, unable to
look at the other villagers Sra, and Weh alike - without a deep feeling of
shame and sadness.

What would he do now, the blood of an innocent upon his claws? His tainted
wound giving him more trouble than usual, and the strange black owl again
showing up at pivotal moment in his life. Srathil was distraught. He decided
he would seek out the Lady of Jaguars, and the Cardinal for guidance.

Role

Chapter 4

Srathil explored the ruins carefully - dodging foul Wehwalkers of various
shapes and sizes. He was not easily able to conceal himself in the
plains and hills of the dillapitated ruins which made the journey quite
difficult with a host of otherwordly abominations at his heels. The ruins
were somewhat familiar, as he had traveled through the veil and seen
Maethien as it was before the apocalypse. He could only fathom what had
driven the conjurers to set up their circles and begin their terrible
incantation that had rendered the ruins of the present uninhabitable and
a place of great torment and shame. Regardless, he explored hoping to
gleen some insight into exactly what had caused Maethien to fall under
this spell of eternal darkness.

He wasn't yet strong enough to defeat the Wehwalkers in combat, at least
the largest of them - so much of the ruins was left unexplored. But it
was a good test of his survival skills, and ability to remain undetected
in the evershifting wilderness of the ruins. He approached a cave in a
corner of the ruins, filled with the abominations. A poor helpless
corpse lay in the corner, an elf he could tell by the delicate features,
and pointed ears. He had probably come here to fight against the Weh
creatures, and fallen honorably to the hoard. A whitesteel spear still
clutched in his hands. Srathil crept near the body in the cover of the
caves lightless fauna and muttered a prayer to Sra over the corpse. He
took the elf's spear and vowed to use it to fight against the wicked and
tainted army of Weh. His tainted wound pulled at him as the Wehwalkers
drew near, throbbing with pain. To what end he did not understand.

By some miracle, he avoided the approaching host of Wehwalkers and crept
out of the ruins - his path cleared as the host followed him in pursuit.
He vowed to return some day, and vanquish as many of the abominations as
he could to aid the elves keeping the Wehwalkers at bay and the rest of
Thera safe from their relentless attempts to devour the rest of the
world.

He ventured back to his home in the Saurian village - a place curiosly he
had never spent much time. A small shop selling young saurians covers
for their claws and tail. A druid offering blessings and healing. And a
host of new saurians hoping to settle here in search of a better life.
In a remote corner of the swamp, Srathil discovered a saurian worshiping
the force of Weh, hatred sparkling in his eyes. Saurian gasped, a sharp
pain pierced his side. His wound began to ooze. He bellowed out a
warcry and struck the scaled-one of Weh, despite his pain. The battle
was fierce, he was an opponent well matched to Srathil's abilities.
Surprising Srathil, one of the settlers screamed and joined the assault
against him. A child of Sra. Srathil could not believe it. He fled
immediately, not wishing any harm to come upon the child of Sra.

Role

Chapter 3

Srathil awoke suddenly, clutching the tainted wound at his side, his
breathing labored and heavy. A vision in his sleep of a terrible
creature in the marsh - a maw with a thousand gnashing teeth. He stood
at the ready, a spear clutched in his hand prepared to defend himself
from whatever this beast was.

He had been exploring the marshes of his former home in Ysigrath -
harvesting marshweed and looking for signs of game. It was a relatively
normal day, as far as the marshes go. Nothing seemed out of place or odd
about his surroundings and so he wasn't feeling particularly cautious or
on edge as he went about his tasks. He was collecting sprigs of the
plain green marshweed, a cure for poison in the swamps of his home - but
easily confused with other varieties that were not so beneficial. So
engrossed was he in his task that he failed to see the movement in the
waters of the marsh behind him. Bubbles broaching the surface at first,
and then ripples as something slid silently through the water behind him.

Srathil tucked a few sprigs of the plain green marshweed into his
belt-pouch and whipped about on his heels as an enormous creature
broached the surface. A maw with a thousand teeth gnashing, is all that
Srathil could recognize of the beast, it's bulks obscured by the waters
of the marsh. Srathil barely had time to ready his spear to defend
himself. The scent of the swamp had turned foul, rot and decay and death
hung thick on the air of the marsh. Srathil muttered to himself 'Weh.'
This was no natural inhabitant of these swamps, he had never seen it's
like before.

The ravenous maw lurched forward, gnashing it's teeth and spittle flying
from it's moving jaws. Drops of the substance landed on reeds and peat
around Srathil and in his periphery he noticed where they landed, the
life began to wither immediately. This was indeed a dangerous foe, and
Srathil wondered if he dared to face it, or flee in response to the
imminent threat. He supposed he did not have much of a choice in the
matter.

He lunged at the beast, his spear dancing into the creature's horrible
maw. A loud crunch reverberates through the swamp as the beasts jaws
clamp down around the spear and Srathil is left holding only a short haft
of wood. He bounded backwards from the beasts jaws as the creature
advanced in one fluid moment. He stumbles on a submerged root, and
tumbled backwards, catching himself with his hands in the muck. The maw
of the beast opens again, and a whiplike tongue springs forth a mouthlike
appendage with sharp teeth encircling it's opening latches on to
Srathil's side and pulses with a discernable hunger on the inflicted
wound.

Srathil awakens and out of the corner of his eye he glimpses a black owl
flit off into the night sky from his cabin window.

Role

Chapter 2

Srathil is saved by a wild woman of elven heritage. He is nursed back to
health with her talents and wild magic which he later discovers is an
ability to commune with nature spirits, animals and wild energy. He
comes to know this as animism, and is instructed in these arts by this
mysterious woman.

He has no knowledge of how he obtained his wound which left it's mark of
Weh taint upon his scales. Most of his life before this event is
nonsensical and a fleeting memory at best.

The mysterious woman was familiar with saurian ideas of Sra and Weh, and
encouraged and trained Srathil to respect and care for Sra, or life
energies. She had guided him and encouraged dedication in all his
endeavours whether they were to be successful or not. She encouraged
zeal for the complete destruction of the powers of Weh from Thera. Until
they were completely eradicated, all of this world would be forever in
peril.

After recieving his guidance, and training from the mysterious wild woman
- she disappeared from Srathil's life and he had not seen her since. He
decided to pledge himself to the Fortress of Light, in hopes of becomming
a Squire and knew that he could make great progress in destroying the Weh
energy in Thera among it's ranks.

He has learned of the Ghost in the Misty ruin. Located in a cemetary
inhabited by fierce jaguars, he will seek the mistress of this temple to
continue learning of dedication, courage, passion, and purity. In hopes
that some day he might purify the tainted Weh scars from his own scales.

Role

Chapter 1

Left for dead in the marshes outside the Sze'weh village, Srathil knew
his short life was at it's closing act. A pool of dark blue blood mixed
with the almost black waters of the peat marsh staining reeds and moss
alike with color of a cloudless night sky. Muckdweller's croaking in the
background as his vision slowly began to fade. Srathil could not
remember what it was that had caused his most grevious wounds, and it did
not seem to matter in the moment. His life force tainted by the powers
of Weh - it was unimaginable fate to him. His eyelids grew heavy as his
life energy faded, soon Sra would be nothing but a memory for him.

A swamp bear lumbers through the reeds, a wild looking woman in pursuit
not far behind. The bear rears up on it's hind legs, smelling the rank
swamp air, searching for something. Splashing through the mire and much
at a quick pace the two come upon a lifeless form covered in the swamp
muck. The bear noses at the body with a sense of urgency, coming to rest
beside it. The wild looking woman approaches cautiously, these swamps
are full of danger and difficult to determine friend or foe. 'The woman
is of elvish descent, and whatever she happened to be doing in this
dreadful marsh is still a mystery. 'Most unfortunate for this young
scaled-one' she says quietly kneeling beside the body and her companion.
She inspects his wounds carefully and discovers a horrible wound on his
midriff, the surrounding green-gold scales tainted by blackened dead
flesh. She places her hands upon his body carefully, singing gently her
voice echoing in the stagnant marsh air.

The wound begins to glow a vibrant green, the reeds bend and the waters
of the marsh surrounding the body turn crystal clear. Slowly, as she
sings her sweet song the wound begins to close. The blue blood that has
stained the reeds and marsh waters coalesces and seems to slither back
inside the body before the wound seals shut. All that remains is a
tainted black scar where the puncture once was, for even her wild magic
is not enough to remove the taint of Weh energy. She lifts his near
lifeless body upon the back of her companion bear and they make their way
out of the confusion of the marsh.

Srathil's eyes open slowly, as confusion sets in. He is in an unfamiliar
place, a small hut with a fireplace made from river rock, and herbs and
pelts hanging from the ceiling. He lay in a small cot filled with pine
boughs. He touches his side gingerly, the pain of his wound still great.
A wild woman sits in the corner, near the fireplace mashing some sort of
poultice in a small rock dish. 'Rest scaled one, your wounds were great.
Know that I will care for you and see you returned to health.' He can
hardly stay sitting upright and lays down in the cot slowly, his eyelids
heavy once more - but comforted in the knowledge the danger has passed.

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