Lalvyal Ar'dan N'umakardathas the Disciple of Ancient Ways

Role

Chapter 3

Lalvyallianlile Ar'dan Dhamraik'vyste knelt in silence, watching the narrow
pass leading from the distant mountains. What exactly he sat watching for
only the gods could say, but the sun rose to its zenith and then began to
fall as he watched. The son of Jyrilmurtyle Ar'dan Dhamraik'vyste was
steadfast as he sat, certain that his father did not merely just place him
here to continue his training. As dusk began to beckon the drifting musical
calls of the beautifully feathered nightbirds of the vale a resounding stamp
of many booted feet made its way to Lalvyal's sharply pointed ears. The
contingent of slobbering, grotesque orcs stomped into view, obviously fearful
yet driven by the sudden cracking whip of a hulking minotaur. Lalvyal was
only startled for a moment before the natural reactions he had been trained
to have brought a shrill bird like call from his throat. Faint echoing
mirrored calls followed the trail away from him and the mountains, away from
the marching orcs and their fearless taskmaster. Lalvyal smiled softly to
himself, confident that he did exactly as he had trained, and that his house
would deal with the orcs very quickly. All he had left to do was to follow
them and keep any from fleeing back into the mountains, to ride the avalanche
as his family loved to call it. And the prized son of Dhamraik'vyste did just
that as the minotaur finally passed, his bluster still evident but an obvious
eager wariness evident in his actions. He did not have to follow long, for a
resounding shrill echoed forth as a barrage of arrows whistled into the
midsts of the disgusting orcs. Blood flowed, fear ran the wind, and death
dropped in droves. The fight was over quickly, a complete route of these
insolent and ignorant creatures. Having not even had to use is sword, Lalvyal
sheathed it, and stepped up into the circle of death as the rest of his house
did the same. A true massacre this was, some of the elves were shaking their
heads, Lalvyal yet young almost felt sorry for them, but then he remembered
they were orcs and the remorse was swiftly replaced with a content
satisfaction. The scouts and warriors quickly picked what they could make use
of from the corpses, then piled the bodies in a nearby rocky ravine and
burned them. Night was full and the moon high when the elves finally slipped
back into the wilderness lands of their house. Buildings rising no higher
then the trees, and little thicker seemed so natural here, as if they grew
along with the ancient trees themselves. The largest is the one young Lalvyal
made his way to, to clean the dirt off and to bed down and enjoy some well
earned rest for it had been a long watch. Little did Lalvyallianlile Ar'dan
Dhamraik'vyste know, as he closed his eyes to rest, that this would be the
last time his life would have comfort again.

Role

Chapter 2

Rocked violently from the depths of a rather pleasant dream, Lalyal gasped in
deep amasement as the very room he was in vibrated massively as if being set
upon by a horde of dragons! Screams of pain and warning intertwined almost
fittingly with blood curdling howls of glee and hate met his ears almost
physically as he opened the door to his quarters and scampered forth to
whatever fate awaited him. Little was Lalvyal prepared for the scene that
unfolded before him as he ran passed one of the gapping windows of his home.
Orcs were everywhere, torches and iron being brandished so brashly that they
did not seem at all like the creatures they truly were. Behind the orcs,
Minotaurs cracked whips and swing giant axes. From behind the large walking
bulls, out of the unnatural mist that seemed to spring from nowhere to block
off the view of his fathers lands like a true wall came a growing fireball.
Aghast but unable to turn away Lalvyal watched in stunned horror as the
flaming embers twisted in upon themselves, growing and twisting, growing and
twisting more until the speeding ball of deadly flames was massive enough to
swallow the house it struck entirely. Blue light lept forth from the building
and the cries of anguish that rode the night seemed to come from them, so
fully they surrounded the house. Only one thing could be done, and
Lalvyallianlile Ar'dan Dhamraik'vyste new it, he must flee for to fight would
be utter insanity. The memory of his escape is so twisted and clouded that he
dares not think of it even till his last days, blood and death, cries of
torture and hate, bodies of flame and cold everywhere. Pushed so far down
into his mind is all of this that it will not come to him willingly, only in
his worst nightmares and then only enough to wake him panting and sweating in
the nights. House Dhamraik'vyste was gone, his entire line, his family,
friends, all of them gone, and all he could do was run and run. Somehow
shortly there after Lalvyal stumbled, bleeding and covered in ashes, into the
father city of Darsylon. They found themselves ready at least, but the
strange raiding party never came and Lalvyal never forgave himself.

Role

Chapter 1

The royal house took him in, it was their duty to do so and it was his duty
to make it as painless of a transition as possible for all that he came in
contact with. But the utter self-loathing within Lalvyal could not even begin
to be comprehended by the fair high-elves of Darsylon, especially not of the
royal house for they were the embodiment of perfect haughtiness in their rule
and their right. Not two years passed, a blink of the eye for the high-elves,
of Lalvyal's continued revulsion in himself before he finally could take no
more. He had yet to talk to those of the royal line whom took the lone
survivor of the brutal raid in as their own. But he had heard them, and could
feel their contempt for him, being 'lowland' and 'wild' in his royal blood.
They considered him less then an elf, but would never sink so low in their
perfection to voice such, and yet he knew. He had no family here, or
anywhere, and he had nothing to live for in his own eyes. An utter abhorance
and unthinkable thing for an elf. So it was no surprise to Lalvyal when one
night he realized that he would leave, and it did not startle him when he
finally took action and began to gather what he needed right then and there
to leave that very night. He had nothing to live for but the cold vengeance,
he would find the one that brought the cows and orcs together, and he would
kill him. Lalvyallianlile took a new name that day, and vowed a new vow to
himself. He decided that he would from that day forward be known as
Lalvyallianlile Ar'dan N'umakardathas, N'umakardathas meaning that he was of
no house. And thus he took to himself the vow to do whatever he must, walk
any road and fight in any way that he may, to find and defeat the one that
brought them. The one that made the balls of fire and the mist. He would do
whatever he needed to end the one of magic that took from him all he knew and
loved.

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