Well, it was a fun 125? hours. Started this character as kind of a lark as I was high and watching High Plains Drifter (did any of the IMMs catch on to that? heh). Had played fire giants before, had played sword specs before, but never played a fire sword spec. First couple levels were insanely easy. I wish I could purchase a PBF, but I doubt it's possible, as I was level 27 when I deleted. But, I got to level 18 in about 10 hours, with sword and parry mastered. It was easy. Grab two iron swords, lots of barterable materials, and figure out how those two things can mesh. At first, when I wrote the role, I only had a vague understanding of how I was going to play him, but as the character progressed, I figured it out.

Well, the next hundred or so hours was a blast. Fighting nearly everyone at every login was insanely fun. I had so many battles that didn't end in death, yet I think at the end, I was 55-18 or something, with, as I said on Dio's, seven of those deaths in the last ten character hours or so. A lot of people aren't impressed with a lowbie bash spec, but I had heard so much #### talked on them by so many people that I wanted to prove to myself that bash is VERY good at low levels. However, some people might have thought me a one-trick pony, but if I had only bashed, and gone after groups in my early days, I am confident I could have had Marcus PK numbers. I would have had more deaths, but hey, you can't do everything, no?

So, after I died three times in one day about four months ago, I kind of was of the thought to let my character auto delete. But then the role contest rolled around, and I was like, hey WTF. So I sent it in, and leisurely played a couple lowbie rangers to test out some ranger kits. So when the results were released, color me pink when I wind up finishing second. I decide, hey, if the IMMs like the role, than I should really try to play it. Then, when I was ####ting around gathering some things, all of sudden I got this echo.

****Memories of past magics flood your consciousness as you unravel the Enigma of the Thirteen.****

I was like ooooooooooooohhhhh ####. This character was level 20 and about 33 hours old at the time, and I had a legacy. Once you read my role, you will realize what a perfect role reward that was, but at the same time, in some ways I wish I didn't have it. I can't tell you how frustrating it was to fight someone, quaff in combat, only to see it posted on Dio's or on the bug board immediately after it happened. C'mon people! Just relax. Once a couple of those posts cropped up, I knew not only would I have IC enemies, but OOC enemies as well. You OOC enemies know who you are, I won't name names, there is no point. At one point or another, you're going to have to ask yourself 'Why do I play this game, and do I make it a better place by playing?'

So, a lot of PKing, a smidgeon of roleplay ( I swear, I tried my hardest to roleplay other than following my self-imposed guidelines and role, but it was damn hard ) and a ton of fun. Was I upset I didn't see this character out? Yes. Do I think I did the right thing? Yes. I can never understand players who will drag a character out when they obviously are 'off' with him. But, like many things, c'est la vie.

In the end, I remember these people:

Lester - Jeez. I think I got you, what, four times? But you had the last laugh. Well played.

Valinag - Damn you for deleting. One of the few I could have traveled with. I will still remember having you not attack me in the Mists of Thar-Acacia JUST after we fought, only to make it through the maze to the Gates without a scratch ( has to be a record ). Well played.

Sevutura - Said what I wanted to on your thread. You were a damn good fight. Kept the adreniline pumping, always.

Grilkor - I felt bad I made you delete.

Kharghurln - You were me. Reading the role, you'll understand.

Malanthus - Damn you. Damn you to Hades. You caught me on the ultimate n00bie ####. I wonder to this day what would have happened if that had not happened.

And that's really about it. There were a couple others I remember, so post if you want to. I'm going out to the bar, but I'll post my role later.

But it was fun each time. At least for me. First two characters where both Felar APs and I'd name the third but I'm still playing them. It was really hard for me to kill you and I kept wanting to do it but never could. Twice my first Felar AP was able to sleep you and spell you up. But even with another AP's help we couldn't seal the kill and it always had me thinking on how to stop you from flee/quaff or simply quaff in the middle of a fight. I figured it out with the the third but there was no way I could match a fire sword spec in a one-on-one melee at those levels. Great char.

Silly people that almost always think everything out of the ordinary with a character is a bug. I didn't even think twice when I saw you quaff in combat for the first time. Just thought to myself, that's a neat trick. Bastard got away. Heh. Hope you come around with another kickass char.

We tangled just a couple of times. I was surprised that I could handle you with spear. But when you would land a double thrust that took 40% of my health each time, I knew it was time to leave on my end. Fun fights, neat character. That's cool that you got the reward, too.

Many people diss lowbie PKing because they claim it is 'unbalanced' and 'too easy' when in actuality, lowbie PK is very very risky. If you #### one thing up, you will usually die (mostly because of your low HP).

Yeah, we had some good fights. Spear and staff were the two specs I had the most problems with. I didn't master everything (I was amazed at my ####ty learning streak there for a while, I'd say I went 22 hours with not a single skill improvement) and those two weapons were at the low end of the spectrum.

Also, you'd be amazed at how hard a fire sword spec with sword mastered can hit with a very simple regear set and a vuln weapon.

Simshan Steelywipple looked over his slumbering family with a sigh. Eager
to forget the events of last eve, his slowly turned from his small cottage
and began the walk back to the hill where his work still remained.

'Foul work it be, Simshan, but it must beh dun' the quiet priest remarked
to himself. During all his years as a priest in service of the Skyborn
the human had seen his share of violence, yet an involuntary shiver ran
through him as he remembered the events that led him to the hill. What
ferocious anger had burned through that giant, he thought to himself, nearing
the crest of the hill. His next thoughts were lost in a surprised curse.

'By da grace of da Skyborn...'

A supple willow tree stuck out from the tip of the hill like a beacon to the
Heavens, a thick rope of knotted griffon hair swinging wildly in the wind.
What drew the former priests' curse was the fact that the rope swung free.

'By da Gods...' the human muttered, as he cast nervous glances around himself
slowly making his way to the tree. Reaching a hand up to the rope, he noticed
not a single strand was undone, the noose still tight. A slight shiver ran
through him, as he looked into the sky. A single constellation burned into his
vision, the meaning not lost on him. A dull sweat broke out on the former
priests' skin, his knees buckling slightly. Casting nervous glances about
himself, Simshan slowly backed away from the tree, talking quickly to himself.

'Ah gotta tell dem. By da Gods, what foul magiks have been done...ACK!'
A large, weathered ebon hand wrapped itself around Simshan's neck, tightening
with sickly strength. As Simshan faded into oblivion, the last thing he heard
was his own neck snapping, and a deep, raspy whisper exclaim 'Vengeance!'.

Zthrhok Kazir'Rah was born deep in the heart of Kiadana. Immediately, the
elders of the Mount knew this child was different. Strangely intelligent
for a giant, the child was rushed into the service of the Anti-Paladin guild.
Climbing swiftly through the ranks, Zthrhok slew many storm giants assailing
his home, his cobalt sword 'Deathbringer' hewing the skull of several
paladins of Shokai. After several years, Zthrhok realized he had learned
all he could from his teachers on the Mount, and so, the pupil slew his
teacher's and used their souls to feed his ever-growing desire to know the
intricities of death magic. Slowly journeying to the lands of the West,
Zthrhok made quite a name for himself, his cobalt sword tasting the soul
and mind of several well known scholars, his name being spoke of in quiet
whispers in the local taverns.

But one thing interested Zthrhok above all else. The prolonging of life.
Zthrhok knew one day, no matter how many souls he plundered from their
host bodies, that he would succumb, as all mortals do, to the dark kiss of
death. He began to seek out the ancient tomes of the forbidden Masters,
and sought to learn from all sorts of priests of the Dark Lords. It was in
these travels he first encountered the Cult. Drawn to Scarabeus as a moth
is drawn to Flame, Zthrhok first sought to learn of the Cult's ways. Nearly
forgotten, he found several underground cultists all too eager to teach
him the ways to destroy the profane. As Zthrhok learned, his body began
to betray him. His sword arm became withered, and pale. His tremendous bulk
to shrink rapidly. Cursing his fate, he splintered from the Cult, earning
eternal enmity of the Demon Goddess for daring to defile her temple in his
rage over his condition. Now alone again, the giant moved to learn of the
ways of Death from the Imperial High Priest, a follower of the Hornet Lord.
As he approached the true workings of the Church of Khasotholas, he was once
again thwarted by the departure of the Hornet Lord from the realms of Thera.
Once again, he would go in search in the true meaning of Death, eventually
drawing the flaming eye of Muuloc, the Charnel Lord. Finally finding one
whose ways agreed with him completely, Zthrhok was branded with the dark
Gods mark, and told to seek bodies for the Forge to further learn the dark
secrets of the Church.

Other Immortal Lords had begun to watch the foul giant with growing ire.
The Lord of the Archons sent his followers to try and slay the Dark
Anti-Paladin, yet their souls fed the sword. Various fool barbarians
nearly threw themselves on his sword, as the Giant cackled with glee.
His cobalt sword seemed at times to throb in his hands, its' hunger
for souls at times almost consuming Zthrhok. Then, one day, his mission
changed. Zthrhok slew a lich Lord. It's soul and memories filled
the dark magician with myriad ancient secrets of immortality. Finally
what the Giant had sought was his.

While Zthrhok moved to become an unholy Death-Knight, the forces of
Light began to realize his dark plans. Shokai himself came to a lesser
priest of his and tasked him to bring down the Giant. The Lord of
Legends, furious at the death that had been reigned on the Village,
gathered a small cadre of assassins to do the same. The last of the
Holy warriors gathered followed the near forgotten Firehammer Clan,
a simple ranger of the Fortress and twin Storm Giant paladins. And
so, Zthrhok's fate was sealed as the assassins, priest, ranger, and
paladins made their way to the area in which the Giant was seen last.
They found the Giant near the settlement of South Dairein, enjoying
the solitude of his dark studies.

Their first attempt on his life was horrendous. Zthrhok slew both
of the assassins sent by Kastellyn with his horrible blade, and
mortally wounded one of the paladins as well. Laughing with dark lust
and anger, Zthrhok watched as his foes ran for safe haven, his desire
for their death tempered with his desire to return to his studies.

But something was wrong. Zthrhok came upon a problem he could not
solve. There was something he was missing in the dark texts he had
found. Slowly realizing that perhaps an ally would be needed, he
found a wizened gnome of the Tribunal willing and able to help, for
a price. Using his palpable aura of despair, the Giant forced the
gnome to aid him for half the agreed upon price, and in doing so, sowed
the seeds of his demise. For the gnome had been in contact with the
fallen paladin of Aarn in his youth, and had called him a friend once.
In the darkest night, a pact was made. The gnome was slip something
into Zthrhok's drink that night as they poured over the dark tomes,
and in that, the band would strike. Everything went as planned, and
the Giant was taken to the Gallows. Binding his dark mind with divine
prayers, the band hung the Giant, watching as his struggles began to
fade. As the final shudder went through his body, a horrid black mist
began seeping through his mouth and the brand on his arm began to fade.
Shrieking in horror, the stygian blade 'Deathbringer' began to glow with
a blinding white light disappearing as if into thin air. So distrubed
were the companions, they departed, leaving the Giant to twist in the
wind. They parted ways then, leaving the Priest, who lived closer than
the rest, to take care of the bodies destruction.

But all was not what it seemed. And so Uthral(meaning Slayer in an
old tongue) Unh'rhar(Meaning Old Vengeance in the same tongue) was
born on a moonless night. Not truly the Giant he once was, Uthral
is drawn to deliver vengeance to those who slew his formal self. Nothing
else will satisfy him. He does not retain the magical abilities he
formerly had, nor will he ever, as the hanging has nearly destroyed his
vocal chords. Only remembering how to deal damage at its' peak and how
to swing a sword like an adept, Uthral has sought out the warrior's
guild to enhance his vengeance.

Uthral cannot yell due to his vocal cords being mangled in his former
death. While his rebirth and pursuit of vengeance may seem to mark him
as a follower of the Father of Anger, he truly does not desire such.
Only vengeance will sate his desire, for the unholy will that burns
within him will not be quenched by any amount of bloodshed. However
he will treat priests of the Father will more courtesy than most, unless
they resemble those that brought him low. He does not remember much
of his former Life, and therefore will probably not seek out Muuloc
unless the Charnel Lord makes himself known as his former Patron.

Same thing happened with me.

To much of a chore.

You were cool, and one tough son of a bitch. I wish on our last fight that I had wimpy to 0, either of us were about a thrust away from death, oh well.

Good luck with your next.

Same that ranger had to be the way he was. Would have liked to have a purely solo duel with you, but when I had the upperhand, you wanted none, then when you had levels, I wisely kept my distance.

Use seemed like a very knowledgable player, and I didn't know how to prep period (other than the most simple things), so of course I avoided you when you were ready.

Surely you kept track of how many players you killed... didn't you? I'd like to know.