Eiyial the Nomad of the Sands

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Role

Chapter 1

Unbound I run. Through vale and wood. Leaping from stone to branch. The winds
of late stripped from beneath my feet but still I manage. Still I endure. Still
I fight. The forces of darkness and defilement are strong. I've seen the the
passing of many harbingers, reavers, and wardens. The burden is great. The
need is dire. We must howl loud. Restoration of Thar-Eris is vital. The
few must become some. The some sprout to be many. We are the Outlanders.

As I swing from vine to vine I keep watch. I hold close to my heart the way
of the Wardens. Preservation and light. I believe we can restore through
action and purity the ways of Thar-Eris. In honor of the slumbering Ancients
who will stir once more.

My path was hasnt been easy. Ive seen shade as the sun becomes shadowed in
dark magics. Defilement of death. The Redes abandoned. The cycles attempted
severed. Death, Season, and Fertility corrupted.

It started when I was young. A farmhand of Aturi. We lived on the land. We
acted in according to the Redes. It was a vital belief of the family. We
rejoiced in the balance of the cycle. Reap and sow. It was while a farmhand
that I met the Autumn's daughter, Ameyia. Who later was to become my wife.
We were to become one. And endure the seasons together. But fate split us.

A clan of orcs summoned as mercenaries to bring fresh wombs to the breeding
ceremonies of the Seantryn Minotaurs stripped me of my 'then' hopes and
life. I faught, we faught, but we were not prepared. Our scythes were not
sharpened enough to cut the armored disfigurements.

Role

Chapter 2

Ameyia was taken and defiled. I was left for dead. They had no need for me.
Only for the sacred womb of my wife-to-be. And so from the warboss' fortress
later came likely a cry of another fould-toungued minotaur child. The
offspring of corruption. At the expense of Thar-Eris. At the expense of the
Autumn's family. At the expense of my love.

I became slightly lost by the tempations of darkness. Little did I know that it was
not as the elders had said it would creep up on you. It was almost like a
sweet warm breathe down the back. Like Ameyia gently speaking soft words
from behind, close. It was almost comforting. Its scarey just how easily
manipulating the vile can be. The shades are crafty. But I resisted early
when I realized the temptations were wrong. Despite how wonderful they
seemed.

I endure despite. Knowing that now my path is no longer a farmhand to the
Aturi fields. But meant to harvest and fight a bigger war. To resist
the corruption and fight it back. To preserve the light and the purity
of the redes. To be a Sunwarden of Thar-Eris.

As an outward expression of this I cloak myself in these black robes. Training
my abilities to perfection. Listening to what Spirit Allies they are. We
are not alone. We are few, but we will be many. And that many will howl
in light and the Ancients will respond. Thar-Eris returning.

May the wisdom of the Crone be on me. And the brown cloak of Amaranthe
embrace me.

I'm a child of the Sun family. My greater path and name crafted, however,
from the cycle spinning--though defiled. She'll remain a memory with me
as she is spun once more through the Great Beyond. I take upon the name
Autumn'Sun.