Liethkim Longcut the Legend of the Battlefield

Role

Chapter 3

"Liethkim, my daughter... May the tides guide you on your travels."
It was with those words that the storm giant maiden's journey began.

As is tradition among her tribe, the Storm-Walkers, all able-bodied
storm-kin who reach their 100th year are to set out, alone, on their
comming-of-age journey. Equipped with only the tools they have created
for themselves, these young giants must seek out the surface where they
will walk the land in search ofknowledge to bring back to their
people. It is in this manner that the small, isolated villages keep
up with the rest of the world, and stave off the hated stagnation.

Stagnation... the Storm-Walkers have many cautionary tales about it,
theirs being a culture based on constant change and development. "Ill
things breed in trapped water" as the saying goes. These giants are
symbolically leery of swamps and their denizens, but as is their nature,
they will venture into even these places in search of enlightenment.

Role

Chapter 2

What must be known of the Storm-Walkers is their almost obsessively peaceful
nature. A small tribe by necessity of remaining hidden, these people have
gone through great pains to befriend or placate their xenophobic neighbours,
the Tritons and Aquatic Elves. As a result of their continually bending at
the knee for others and peculiar rites of passage, this tribe has begun to
gradually decrease in size. Liethkim's people seem to be fated for eventual
extinction if nothing is done to solve these issues.

Liethkim is, if nothing else, representative of her people in that she too
possesses a nearly hard-wired aversion to violence. Each and every time she
is faced with mortal danger, every shred of her being screams at her to run,
a notion she resists soley with sheer willpower and stubborn determination
largely unknown to most Storm-Walkers.

PK Wins

Role

Chapter 1

Homecomming I

Liethkim angled her body gently, sliding along the undersea currents as
easily as a bird might in the sky. Just a few days ago she had recieved word
from a cousin in Loch Terradien that there was unrest among her people back
in the Aryth, and that as a Hero of the Land, she may be able to do something
about it.

"Probably a small argument among the Council of Elders" she thought to
herself. "I shouldn't be needed for much more than a few days." As the
currents dropped off, the warrior-maiden allowed herself a cursory glance at
her surroundings. Spotting her destination, a small coral reef in the
distance, she permitted a watery sigh of relief.

"It has been so long... at least nothing has changed, really." She was wrong.
Fumbling with a small cluster of shells, she released a hidden catch and
entered down into the underwater caves that her people made as their own.

Immediately, she was assaulted by the coppery taste of blood in the water,
and with it the all-too-familiar icy talons of fear that gripped her insides.
Gritting her teeth, she felt the adrenaline flood through her veins, blood
turning to liquid steel as the gooseflesh rippled all about her body. Fight
or flight? Fight or flight?

Fight.

Silvery flame boiled the water around her as the summoned the essence of the
Phoenix, two brilliant shafts of light solidified into a pair of longswords.
Eyes flashing silver, the Maran made her way down deeper into the tomb.

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