Fri Jan 17 16:26:37 2003


9 o''clock AM, Day of the Sun, 20th of the Month of the Battle on the Theran calendar Andhean perished, never to return.

Race:	elf
Class:	warrior
Level:	51
Alignment:	Good
Ethos:	Chaotic
Cabal:	SYLVAN, the Sylvan Warders
Age:	510
Hours:	229
PK Ratio:	35% (closer to 100% is better)

Andhean was my first hero and out of three previous characters, my favorite. However, I don't have as much time to spend on CF as I used to, so rather than go dormant until I have enough time to play, which may be as long as a year, I decided to delete him. I probably will be back, but not any time soon.

I picked the incarnadine wave and flow of shadows for my legacies, because the helpfiles for them fit into my character's background perfectly. Incarnadine wave tosses out a bunch of cool echoes, and I never got tired of watching myself fight with this legacy. Flow of shadows was alright. I took dagger/whip as my specs, which I don't regret at all. Owing to being sneaky and hiding in the bushes, I could always get the initiative with one of my nasty perfected weapon skills. Past that, I rarely lasted to land a kill. Not to say I was a bad tank, I just didn't deal alot of damage.

I never met a player in the game I OOC disliked. Also, I took a unique stance on why I joined the Grove. In my interview to join the cabal, my character fibbed on why he wanted to join. Andhean told Blimbali, if I remember right, that Nature could endure the travesties hurled at it. Instead, Andhean said he wanted to show others what Nature thinks of people who deign to live separately from it, or who try to hurt it. What Andhean actually wanted was to hunt. While Andhean's actions indicated a healthy dislike for evils and defilers, he fought for a reason I thought other Sylvans wouldn't agree with. It didn't fit in with being good align, and often I thought I was walking a fine line. I probably should have been converted to chaotic neutral. My role:

I was formerly a mercenary hired by a wealthy merchant in Darsylon. Many years ago, I was tasked to accompany a caravan delivering a small shipment through a little known path in the forests north of Darsylon. Our caravan was beset upon by wild wolves, suddenly and viciously. They fought with a ferocity I have never seen, dodging my swings with my longsword and turning away from my thrusts, the whole time they lunged, bit and clawed us where we least expected. I called upon every technique and style that a regimented martial life had taught, but to no avail against the beasts. Nothing I had been taught prepared me for this. Suddenly, a blur of gray hurled itself at the man nearest to me. I knew this man somewhat, enough to know his name(though it is not important now), and we had exchanged a few polite pleasantries previously. Before one could blink an eye, his throat was torn to shreds, and he was falling to the ground, as good as dead. A wolf bounded at me, and my weapon went flying, and at this point, I panicked, or something in me snapped. I fought--with tooth, fist, and nail, scratching at anything, grasping for a piece of exposed flesh to bite into, fighting for my life as if nothing was more important. It felt as if some vast and untapped energy was pouring into a tiny vessel--me. I know not how long I fought like this, but the wolves gradually abated in their attack, until they stopped altogether. Surrounding me from every angle, they seemed to be closely examining me. It was then that I had the chance to look around. All my comrades lay dead or dying, and I was the only creature left on two legs.

One wolf, larger and more ferocious than the rest, padded forward from amongst the number, and looked me directly in the eye. Helpless under its steely gaze, I stared back--and then I knew why it fought. What I saw in those wild, yellow eyes was instinct in its purest and most brutal form. I felt a surge of emotions, urges, and desires well within me that I had never felt before, nor wanted to feel before then. As the wolves withdrew, leaving me alone at the scene of the carnage, I began to feel more different, more estranged and at the same time beginning to perceive what I had ignored before--as if passing from a lifetime of a set of ideas, principles, doctrines to a life with none. I felt the excitement of stalking prey, of running after it and feeling the ground fly past all four feet, of the agonizing yet intoxicating pleasure of the hunt. I wish I could have held onto this feeling forever, of I being the predator, and it the prey, but something drew me back, and gradually words and thoughts came back to me, and I seemed caught in a threshold, neither man any longer, nor totally beast.

Later, I would tell the Warder captain Blimbali that the wolves attacked because they were angry at the ignorance of citydwellers, that it opened my eyes to their plight, but I do not think that was all there was to tell. I would tell him my purpose for joining the Grove was to rid the world of defilement and corruption, but it is not entirely true. No, it is definitely for something more primal than that, and something I could never justify to another Warder. I hunt and stalk defilers and darkwalkers, so I can again experience the rapture of the Hunt.

---

-Andhean

Andhean and dimion seemed to get along fine, barring a few things we disagreed on, heh. but as a player i thought you had a pretty cool char going, then didn't see you around in forever.
good luck with the next.

yar, you were a slippery one, yar. I always had a tough time with you...and your damn chokes. Then you just disappeared for awhile. I liked your character.

Trajeona

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"Hm. She hasn't TOUCHED her manwich."