Kjarkanoth Fyullin the Unseen, Mutated Murderer of Mages

Role

Chapter 8

Kjarkanoth cocks his head oddly as it sits upon his hunched shoulders on yet
another day filled with war and angst. Battle chants fill the village with a
resonating echo and he throws the head of another mage next to his hut.
Reflecting for the first time, he realizes the weathered and worn walls of
his hut that have lost their sparkle over the years. "Ugh, Kjar fight long
time, is crazy how war consumed life." he mutters, moving his now silvery
hair to the side to stare deeper. Embracing his home in an even deeper
fashion, he walks into his hut with a final shout to the village.

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Crying out yet again to the Hammersong, he waits with patience. "Is test!?
Kjar still hold true Lord Thror! Nothing can stop!" he yells in hope of
laying eyes on the seasoned Dwarven Battle Lord again. No reply meets his
hopefulness, "Must be hardship, him warn Kjar", he whispered under his
breath. Before turning to leave, he curiously stares at the forge, and
something catches his eye.

Walking closer.. piercing screams almost seem to shatter his eardrums as he
peeks inside. The Forge boils with the blood of his prey, and in a rush the
screams of every mage he had slain fills him. The blood rushes out like a
strong tide consuming his feet and his boots begin to melt with the
disgusting smell of human flesh filling his nostrils yet again. Sinking into
the boiling blood with the dissapation of his scraggly human flesh a beastial
roar escapes him as he grits his teeth.

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His heart pounded with the force of a dwarven smiths hammer. Clutching at his
chest, he realizes it was all a dream and wipes the coldsweats from his brow.
"HUha, HUha, think war starting get Kjar head. Would be honor burn in blood
of manamonsters, going take lot more then that to stop Kjar for now." he
chuckled under his breath. "No fear in real scraggle flesh, if want be in
dreams.. can be there all want." he cackles as his stands from his cot.
Unable to sleep he grabs his weaponry from the floor and sets out to slay his
now mortal enemies.

Nodding to himself in assurance of his path, he leaves his hut, swaring he
can still smell that rancid scent of burnt flesh.

Role

Chapter 7

Battle chants filled the air rousing the snoring figure hidden within the
ruins of the street. Kjarkanoth felt so refreshed, yet the moon was still
high. "Ugh, why Kjar wake?" he grumbled groggily. Standing and covering his
tracks, he felt compelled to walk down the street, like being pulled...

"You dere! Ah kin smell tainted blood on yer blade! Who are yeh!" screamed a
grating voice to the south. Curiously Kjarkanoth moved to talk with the
figure. "Who is?" he cautiously questioned the blacksmith. "Mah names Tahren,
been waitin fer yeh lad. Ah knew yehd beh comin' soon." he chortled as
extending his arm in a form of embrace.

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The homeless thief, battered by life, had found his path through fate.
Learning for the first time of the BattleRager's, he dedicated his entire
existence to them. He even learned how to read *just* to learn their history
in the Lyceum alone... he arrived... he was finally home..

Building his hut, the sheer pride of having his very first home overcame him.
A void was filled that day, though it is not the only one present.

Tahren and Kjarkanoth became close, eventually Tahren saw the fiery potential
in his new disciple of mana terror. Until the day came when he could only
utter, "Ah think it's time fer yeh ter seek Thror."

"That old Dwarf! Him tell story in Lyceum!", Kjarkanoth exclaimed with
excitement.

"Yeh, an' it's time fer yeh te get past tha stories, an' beh sculpted in tha
Forge."

"Sound like going hurt, but Kjar do anything be best hutman..."

"Anything?"

Cautiously, Kjar cocked his head to the side in thought... "Yuh"

Role

Chapter 6

Returning to the volcano for the first time since his new body, Kjarkanoth
winces slightly as the unfamiliar scent of heat burning his flesh fills his
nostrils. Feeling stripped of everything he knew, he laid eyes on the caved
in entrance to the Fyullin village as reality sets in.

"Yuh, Kjar just had see.. one last time. Might not have home anymore, but
Fyullin always be home in heart" he murmured with pain. Clutching his heated
dagger until his knuckles turn white, he turns away and rows back to Hamsah
Mu'tazz.

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The soft crashing of the tide fills his ears as he steps foot on the docks,
the same place that changed his life so recently. Scowling with rage, he felt
his heart skip a beat, then again. "What that?" he quizzically thought. "Who
tha 'ell are yeh?" jeered a dark knight from behind him.

Twisting around, Kjarkanoth instinctively rushed the abominable magus as if
controlled by something else. The dark knight was helpless at the rage and
fire the decended upon him. Kjarkanoth continued stabbing the lifeless
carcass until he realized it was over. "Ugh, so that what revenge feel like..
HUha! HUha!"

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Feeling truth in his actions, Kjarkanoth melded into the shadows and
continued upon the eastern road. As the moon rose to it's peek in the sky, he
knew it was time for rest, yet the homeless thief faced another night on the
streets.

Breaking off the road in fatigue, he moved into some ruins and hid himself in
the streets. Covering himself in a snow leopard skin, his eyes closed as he
drifted away.

Role

Chapter 5

*A week passes as Kjarkanoth can be seen within Tir-talath, dagger in hand,
and so oddly comfortable with it. His mind still seems to be processing his
new voice, his body, and most of all the unreversible life he inherited.*

"Kjar sware sink Island. Think fight leave cause made small? Kjar think them
not thinking. Manamonster's burn in fire of volcano, Kjar always stay true to
fire. Inside and out." he whispered in the corner of the room.

"Can't forget heritage, Kjar take village name, carry into future. Fyullin
village be praised for what Thera got from, in future, Kjar know it will."

"Manamonster's corrupt, sneaky magic behind sight. Them always scheming Kjar
think. Never trust, never listens, not let sway ever again. HUha, HUha, Kjar
guess Jasper liked chaos like Kjar. Them Islander's dumb."

"Kjar ready, only weak fall down and stay. Kjar strongest in Fyullin, still
is... just stay in shadows so can think about more now. Mana soon leave Thera
forever, leave lives how supposed to be..."

*With that, he shifts his weight off the wall, tipping his head to the
trainer on his way out.*

"Time for Thera get ready for Kjar, no home, Kjar be everywhere now."

Role

Chapter 4

Feeling his soft skin touch human hands, Kjarkanoth was barely coherent as he
felt himself lifted up. Bright lights began to fill his fuzzy vision as he
tried to concentrate on his situation.

"You alright Jasper? You've been passed out there longer than you usually
are." uttered the Voralian healer.

"Kjar not Jasper," was all he could barely wheeze in retort.

The priest gasped in bewilderment as he took a few steps back. "What
happening to Kjar!?" he hissed, trying to gain his balance. Wobbling he
finally caught his feet as he looked down at his slender nose, it pulsed with
what looked like pure mana. His eyes began to replicate the flow escaping him
until he felt the last tingle exit.

Looking over his human form, he immediately realized he was not dreaming
before. Running past the healer, Kjar knocked him over as he dashed into the
shadows. His newfound deftness was apparent as he didn't look back until he
arrived panting at Tir-Talath.

"You there! You look like you wouldn't mind getting a bit of revenge on
someone friend.. what got you flustered?" whispered a voice from the shadows.

"Manamonster's take Kjar body, break village, now gone!" he roared, trying to
get used to his new voice.

"Come here... I think fire mixed with fate, I can prepare you.." the shadow
retorted.

Looking over his shoulder to search for any eavesdroppers, Kjar turned back
around and peeked into the shadows. Studying his new flesh in sheer disgust,
he let them cover him until he felt like himself again.

"We are going to have an interesting relationship Kjar... very interesting
indeed," cackled the shadow as they walked into the thieves guild.

Role

Chapter 3

*Kjarkanoth's monolithic figure laid upon a wooden table, bound by chains
enforced with leather, as his consciousness finally tried to return to his
bruised body. The heated aspirations of the Islander's fill his ears.*

-
"RHYME... LISTEN! I do not think you are capturing the magnitude of what
would happen if it worked! The Darkness could suck in light around Thera, and
a few transferred souls would stun the balance every time!"

---
"You are being foolish! An evil soul, is equal to a good one. Like scales! We
cannot simply collide spirit with body and create neutrality! He would be in
balance, just as if we fixed it like we always do!"

-
"That is the POINT! It would be sustained! For the rest of his life! No
longer an issue to the Island!... He might even seek Refuge here! Rhyme, you
really need to think about this, I understand what kind of adventure I am
proposing. I think even the process would stun things in the Balance from
confusion though... Darkness wincing at the melding with light, and light
crying out at lost purity..."

---
"We may not even have to do this very often if that is the case.. it does
sound viable, who are we to act as God's though?"

-
"To be honest, I think Twist would shake in his leggings with excitement at
the pure mana it will take to pull it off."
*The Meter looks over at the scraggly human shivering next to him*
"Who is he anyway?"

---
"The men said a street rat for Voralian City. Good man, no family, nothing at
all really. He is also apparently the catalyst to me and Lord Daevryn's
heated future talk... ready your magic."

*Kjarkanoth begins to fade back and forth once again. Was it all a dream? Why
was he falling back to his. lucid.. escape...*

Role

Chapter 2

The cart rumbled onto the docks of Hamsah Mu'tazz as Kjarkanoth readied his
boat for the massive load. Ripping off a leg for the trip, Kjarkanoth threw
the last carcass in his boat as he ripped into the raw flesh.

"Yuh, time for long row," as he readied to step foot within the vessel.

"Sorry, but you won't be rowing anywhere," echoed from behind Kjarkanoth as
he spun around with his fists already up.

"Kjar WILL row village! You not tell Kjar what do!" he roared defiantly.

"Oh my, a fiesty one, much fiester then your Chief was," replied the Rhyme as
he watched the blank realization cover Kjarkanoth's face.

"WHAT HAPPEN CHIEF!?" he cried out in anger, with a touch of fright. "Oh I
think you've figured it out by now.. Kjar", staunchly smirked the Meter.
Turning her head to the Rhyme, she cautiously uttered, "I think we take the
experiment further... Rhyme."

Role

Chapter 1

Kjarkanoth roared with bestial vigor as he finished his hunt. The young
scrapper looked inside his cart and nodded with pleasure at the dozen deer
carcasses.

"Village be proud Kjar. Eats venison all night, sit in fire!" he rumbled as
he headed back to the Fyullin village within the volcano of Kiadana.

The stone wheels grinded upon the axles of his cart as he heaved the rope
over his shoulder and began his journey back. All the while meditating upon
his prominent climb through the village ranks.

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Desperate battle cries roared through the Kiadana Mount. The Fyullin village
never saw attacks, yet they were overwhelmed. Nearly every woman and child
was already dead, and the strongest warriors were strikes from falling.

"The constant upheaval of evil was lurking here like a brewing pot Rhyme. If
my calculations are correct these souls will bring the balance to perfection"
uttered the Meter.

"Will the sway see normality? Our expansive practices have not seen an
approach as this before.." replied the Rhyme.

The last giant fell to a bonded dwarf and invoker, they turned to their
leaders and wiped the blood from their hands. "That should be the last of
them."

The Meter quirked her eyebrows, "This cannot be, my calculations have never
been wrong. Evil sways still by a thread..."

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