Lechlerr the Dai Sensei of the Miyama Ryu

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Chapter 1

An unassuming felar follows the footsteps of a sword-bearing arial. The
reason is not important. The outcome is. The bird must die. Of course,
the felar would not step out of the shadows to speak with him first.
Why would he? Does the sword and claw not posess the final word in life?
In his mind's eye, the felar is standing placidly against the battlements,
watching these things occur. A quick feint, stumble, and dagger appears
from the shadows, and slices a clean slit just below the arial's ribcage,
ending in a subtle twist and thrust upwards just to where the factory of
crimson life-blood begins and ends. Perfection without words.

Lechlerr does not remember this occuring through his own eyes, but rather
remembers it as one would a skirmish in the streets, with quiet
thankfulness that this is not happening to himself. Poor sap.

So it goes, Lechlerr, being of a weak mind which compulsively acts to
create a view of false pretenses in the eyes of others has finally
succeeded in his goal. Well, sort of. One of those unexplained things
in life which is unintended, yet somehow superceeds the original
intention in all of its unbridled consequences and simple irony.

Although one could argue that it has been happening all along, the
threshold of his mind's defenses toward its owner's lies and shoddy
attempts of playing the part has finally snapped, so to speak. Lechlerr
has tricked himself. His mind has split. And he has no idea it is
happening.

Dahrmuezse has surfaced. He is a rash, arrogant being who has no notion of
pity, respect, or common courtesies. He will not look to sugar coat his
words or withhold quarter in battle. Nor will he answer by name or
consider himself ally or companion to any. He is the dark side of Lechlerr
incarnate, and he too has no notion of his softer counterpart.


Lechlerr the Liar has become Lechlerr the Soft. Though he has no idea how
the blood has collected on his fur and claws, he chalks it up to growing
an old memory with a few flaws... woe to any who would come to trust the
good natured felar Lechlerr.

Role

Chapter 2

Feigning ignorance and submission can get one out of almost any tough
situation, Lechlerr has learned.

He's also learned to curb his temper almost to the point of appearing
placid and ... well, slightly timid. Should one not know him too well. He was
raised in brutal conditions, which taught him early on that appearing
submissive, waiting for the right chance to strike, was usually his best
recourse. He has no outward "pride", as most human cultures know the word.
Again, this makes him look weak and lazy- exactly how he wants to be seen.

Others of the shadows are crucial as allies. As well as thieves and those
duergars. In addition, he silently fears the Gods for they can truly see his
through his facades.

Yes, he is a compulsive liar. But he will try to avoid being seen as a liar
at all costs. And even will go through personal discomfort to secure this
visage. Fools and wise creatures alike can be bought with kind words, items,
and promises to repay without regards to "truth". This one thing- the attempt
to maintain the false reality he creates in the eyes of others- is the only
facet of his personality which overachieves. The goal is to please, always
above else. Then you get what you want. If betrayed, he -may- eventually lash
out, but never on anyone else's terms.

However, naturally cunning as he is, he is simply not that smart. His
speech is usually borrowed from those he speaks with, resulting in sometimes
awkward phrasings. Though he is fairly apt at this- taking up the speech of
the local folks is something which has let him blend in unnoticed throughout
his life.

Oftentimes, Lechlerr may lash out randomly. All that pent up aggression
has to be released sometime, doesn't it? And sometimes those who have fought
to the death can make strange bedfellows... so to speak.

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