Brom en' alThalya the Champion of the Virtues, Provincial Magistrate

Role

Chapter 5

How can an experience leave me so fulfilled, yet unsatisfied? So pleased,
yet so vexed? A jumble of emotion, logic, and spirituality. After a talk
with Lord Marcatis, I feel like a large barrel with a hole in the bottom.
His wisdom fills me, yet my own mortal failings leave me feeling incomplete.

He asks me questions that should be simple to answer, yet I fumble around
like a man lost in dark caves, hoping, searching, to find a source of light.

He told me I could be done with study - I understand more than most, he said,
and if I wished, I could simply exist and be fine with that. A test, possibly,
though I did not sense any guile. Perhaps he meant it just as he said it.
Probably so, in fact.

I cannot do that, however - test or no. His teachings are food to my starving
soul. I am famished.

And yet, a meeting with him leaves me both full yet hungry for more. A paradox
of faith, I suppose.

Much like serving the Spire. My service requires me to allow wicked souls to
find safe haven within the walls of a city I guard. It requires me to strike,
and at times kill, those whose hearts are mostly pure. I tell myself it is those
who claim a pure heart yet do murder in a place of safety for all who do harm
to the Light. That their actions place innocent citizens and city protectors in
grave danger.

Yet at the same time I must watch as a dark-elf mercilessly carves on common,
pure-hearted citizens. His rights to do so are protected by those laws I serve.

Whither safety then?

And what of those who seek to serve the Spire alongside me? Those whose hearts
are black as the eyes of a fire giant, yet will dispense the Laws of the Gods
in fairness and equanimity? I tell them to speak with the Provost or another
Provincial, for I do not wish to be responsible for them. They cry that I shirk
my duty, putting my faith above the Spire.

Perhaps they are right. But I can do no different. At least not yet - not while
the Provost has given me the option of inducting or no. While I have the choice,
I will make use of it.

Role

Chapter 4

Journal Entry, Brom en' alThalya: 7 Spring

Hills and valleys. Such has been my temperament these few weeks of
duty. One day, to have the Lord Marcatis bless me with even more
gifts. That eve, to have the holy blade 'Defiance' slip through
my fingers due to a naive fellow Magistrate trying to 'help' and picking it
up for me.

Hills and valleys. One day promoted to duty in Voralian City. The next
day gathering the blade. That same day, apprehending the purehearted Commander,
a criminal, and finding Defiance rejecting me. Defiance tasted the taint on my
soul more keenly than I did. It shames me.

Hills and valleys. Arguing like a child with Sherys in front of the entire Spire.
Being promoted to service in Galadon. Smiting the wicked Draia, who sought
an opportunistic strike on me whilst I fought the criminal Pago.

I must find my center. Do not allow things such as these to cause such
drastic changes in my emotions.

Surely an elf would do a better job than I of mastering himself.

Role

Chapter 3

Suilaid, Mother. Suilaid, Father.
I bring you good tidings. I have met with success in many ways.
I have joined the Spire, and serve currently as a Magistrate of Seantryn Modan.
My abilities were called upon nearly immediately, as those within the Spire were
in need of healing.

More importantly, though, I have been granted not one, but two! audiences with
the halla menel neir. In case my elvish writing has suffered, yes, I do mean
that the Lord Marcatis has spoken to me on two occasions. He has bestowed me with
more blessings than I could have ever fathomed.

My travels in the world go well. I bring His Word to those who need it when I am
able, and smite the wicked when the chance presents itself.

There are a few troubling elements to serving the Spire, but you need not concern
yourself with them - things go well for your adoptive son.

All of my love,
your tittya halla neir, Brom.

Role

Chapter 2

Brom was given a broad education. He learned, as do most elven children, to have
a deep appreciation for Nature and the wilderness. He also learned of the necessity
of Law and Order. The innocents of the various cities of Thera wanted no part of the wars
between Elves and their enemies, he learned, and so should be left out of it and, if possible,
protected from it.

It was discovered at a relatively early age that Brom possessed gifts beyond his great
size and strength - the Gods themselves seemed to watch over him. He studied daily with
the priest guilds, learning as much as he could about how to best worship the elven Gods.

One particular day, a heated discussion took place between one of the head priests,
a paladin, and one of the students who was learning to be a healer. The student
was balking at the idea of cities, citing ancient texts of how the world used
to be, where mere gatherings were enough and mother nature was "happier". She would
not listen to the instructor's logical reasoning - there is a larger population, now,
and a far more varied group of races, he would say. The cities that you despise so
greatly are necessary to keep people safe, he would implore.

The student would hear none of it. She stormed out and wasn't ever seen again.

The sadness in the eyes of the head priest struck a chord in Brom. He decided to
make a pledge, right then, to his instructor. He would serve as a Paladin, and safeguard
the innocents in those cities, serving as a member of the Blood Tribunal.

The instructor thanked him, and looked slightly more relaxed. Brom did not
perceive the hesitation in the head priest, however, as he wondered whether
young, impressionable Brom might get himself - and his soul - into a bit of
trouble in the midst of such service.

Role

Chapter 1

Brom was found by an elven Maran Captain as a babe. His cries, even then, were
thunderous, as his home was burning and his parents lay dead near his
enormous crib.

The Captain of the Maran has little time for raising a family properly and,
being slightly racist, decided that the enormous child deserved better than
to be taken to an orphanage - he deserved to be raised by an elven family.
Brom was taken to Darsylon and given to a well-to-do elven couple who had no
ability to conceive their own. His guttural (giant) baby speech initially
consisted of the monosyllabic "Brom!" repeated frequently. The elves had little
imagination for proper storm giant names, and of course no idea as to his true
name, and so...Brom it was.

Brom was given a very loving upbringing. The elves were, by and large, able
to avoid their stereotypical feelings of superiority toward other races, and
in fact treated Brom like a fellow elf.

Legends of elven warriors and priests and magi were devoured by Brom as a starving
man might devour an elven wafer. Through it all, Brom was taught to worship the
God of his parents, the wise Marcatis.

It should come as no surprise, then, that Brom not only has great respect for elves, but
considers himself nearly one of them. He is highly educated for a storm giant, as is
obvious when one speaks to him. He is humble, though, and knows that he is not truly
elven. This is not a terrible bother to him. His parents taught him that all races
have advantages, and they intended to see him with the best of both worlds, brains
and brawn.

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