Tondumalanas Todaramalas the High Wizard of the Arcane

Role

Chapter 5

The world is nothing but a ocean where some days the tide is high and some
days ... a bit too low. There are fish, small fish (colorful and amusing,
mind you) and there are big fish. Nature has is such that the small fish
are sometimes found - In the Big Fish.

But life, like the depthful, fathomless waters can be intimidating. Rather
overwhelming at times. Stranding admist a point where the circular horizon
sports nothing but endless merger of the waters and the skies. A blank canvas,
with the only difference being... reality is never blank, an attempt at the
realization of it is.

While some float like plankton within these sometimes still, sometimes raging
waters, others choose to swim from reef to reef, partaking with every breath
the hope and cherishing the freedom that the endless waters grant. Easy it
would be to think of such freedom with fear, fear of flowing away eternally
adrift...but such is only the excuse of the feeble who can neither swim nor
steer, for the strong willed don't just float upon the waters, they swim
with and within it.

They are not the trickling stream but a mighty river that has no pre-destined
path, true. But neither are they a pond of stillness that wanes through the
summer and rises in the rains. They flow, upon the endless canvas of life
in a course (of land and time) and grant fertility (hope and joy) and cheer
with refreshing thoughts and words. They will meld and take the shape of
their vessel, accomodating and adjusting. They will flow unhindered when
enraged and disturbed. They will carve through patience and perseverance the
most stubborn of rocks within their path....

Such is the life of the Water-Bourne. Such is the faith of Tondumalanas.

Role

Chapter 4

It is beyond the time of my memory to remember but Master Isthinil (whom I
used to formerly call 'Father') says that I do not belong to the same ilk as
his. Oft as a child I felt such too, but the deepest care and bonding that I
shared with my 'family' in the fishermen village oft drew my away from my
thinking. I looked much different than they, with ears sharp as a dark-elf's
verbal jabs and skin pale as an orc fighting a fiend. My hair drew shine from
the moon and my lanky frame was thin (like the Veil is with a dwindle in the
village). I thought differently, always concerned and always pained, atleast
more so than others. It was only when I became a ... Man: that my Master
Isthinil decide to tell me of my beginning.

I was 'given' to him, he said. By a bleeding mother (whom I ascertain to mine)
and in the same breath I was told that she told him that she would return
to gather me. But in later days news was heard of the defeat of the Palace
and Master Isthinil along with other fishermen had the misfortune of netting
floating corpses of elves during their rounds on the Voralia. It was, then,
destined that I am to be brought up amongst him (and Lord Bless the soul of
that kind man) and to be raised as his children.

They neither blonged to the light or dark and I inherited no elven wisdom
but for the blood and tingle at the touch of iron. But an elf is no saint or
warrior by birth - it is thought and not lineage that makes a man wicked or
virtuous.

What I learnt, I learnt fromt he waters. A swim deep within, a race with the
waves and a thoughtful session by the shore. I learnt all I know from Mother
and how ironic indeed that what was Mother to me was Mother to my village as
well (but in different and deeper ways).

They looked to her for food and lively hood and I sought and bartered with the
waves the very meaning of life. They water is Life, in the purest of metaphors.
I chose to be free-willed (what most of the world could call Chaotic) because
the water had no shape, it chose or fitted into the vessel. It was beautiful
to watch when serene and something to fear when furious. Just as I wished to be.
Even the guild I chose when Master told me the truth and sent me out to seek
my life's true purpose was based because of my leanings to the Ocean. For I
chose to learn the arts and magics that could teach me to twist and fabricate
the translucent line between magic and reality, the flesh and bones. The ocean
is the provider, the playground, the protector and it revived within me the
goodliness of virtue that is associated to my Elven kin.

And that I began my journey, with much to learn and much to look forward to.
Looking through complicated civilizations for simple truths.

Role

Chapter 3

I remeber this one incident briefly yet clearly.

In a spate of goodly wisdom, once when fishing along with my family during
my childhood days, we were forced off our course in the deep towards the
shallow, muddy waters of a mangrove. There along the shore were little mud
ponds: quite the embodiment of filth. The oarsman saw the obvious look of
disgust upon my face and instead of rowing away he rowed towards the shore
and approached the muddy waters, with due care and skill.

There I saw and heard, what echoes within my heart even to this day:

"Beautiful as it is, do you see that Lotus, Tondumalanas? Emerging from a
plate of mud and brown waters, yet a symbol of purity and beauty." he said.
"In a pond of a King's lavish palace or in the dirty murky waters by the
shallow rungs of the land, a Lotus shall always dwell in its grace and
enchant the minds of an onlook."

Role

Chapter 2

The Weaver of Waves.

I seek your essence in waters pure
That fairer than all of elven grace
Still stand not in true testimony
Of the beauty of your unparallel face.

I seek you in sprouts of crimson spilt
Furious like waterfalls but filthy
With strength derived from the depths
Where visions of you and my faith reside.

visit you in dreams of an ocean
Glistening and foaming crystal waves
Where we meet and speak, dreamy divine unity
Of a Mother and her Faithful Child.

Tondumalanas, the Water Bourne.

Role

Chapter 1

Never become what you are out to kill. I fondly remember those words told
to me in my vague reminiscence of childhood travels. As onwards I strive
as a part of the fortress to fulfill my destiny as a Maran in the Brigade
of light. To fight the wicked who are beyond redemption and fight off the
ones until relization dawns upon them.

The Acolyte are the shield, it is said. The Maran - the sword. But it is
common knowledge that the shield, too, can be a weapon and the sword, too,
can be swung in defence.

I try to imbibe within me qualities of both, such balance is only what
seperates the savage (who more often than not becomes what he kills) and
the bastion whose actions reflect virtue. I see an unrest amongst the
Squires, perhaps it is eagerness, to kill but I percieve that they forget
that killing shall never end, it is by actions shall we shall leave
behind legend, actions that speak of firm principled Maran with a soft
and gentler side shown whenever need be. There is much more to the Holy
Brigade than chasing after Imperials and Scions, so I feel. I hope to
reveal and revel in such a path, in further hopes that a generation may
follow, and our goals be purged from the danger of turning a war that
drains us of our virtue. Perhaps one day I shall lead my Fortress and
discover the joy and the burden, of being afront of this War.

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