Yudorian the Vanguard of the Vernal

Role

Chapter 6

> *Swoosh*.. . *Swoosh*.. . muses the endless flap of
avian wings. This sound, a sound, that never looses it's
appeal even if it is often overshadowed. This is the
sound that leads tirelessly onward toward destiny and
echos gently to it's maker as he glides upon the winds
that support it.

> Fluttering along in life, seeking only that I didn't
stop and that one day I may have my vengeance, lead me a
great many of places. This journey kept me going and
eventually blew me toward my eventual landing within a
small, rustic, village which became a home.

> Within the hallowed halls, between the musty huts, and
even the forested and swampy glades are the remnants of
glory and honor. As I embraced fate's calling and took
position as a scout, I realized that no other location
for me to be could ever present a better chance for my
own, as this.

Role

Chapter 5

> Now and forever more, my own path would open up, I
would explore, survive, and live on my own, blown upon
the winds of fate as forever would they guide my feet.

> I was blown in a literal sense down the mountain, much
as any pre-teen would have been. Ever so glad to go
beyond the frigid cold of above and into a more open
expanse, roads, and people not of the village. The wide
open fields and plains felt as if they were friend and
were easy to adapt to in nature.

> Survival, being of utmost importance, was my priority
and with a bit of scavenging, a little raiding and
begging, a full stomach was earned. Yet, no matter how
flawless a young man may feel, such is never true and
eventually, everyone gets caught.

> My captor was a passing warrior, or so I had thought,
but it seems that a ranger's whit is a bit more superior.
He, having taken a shine to a young boy with my plight,
took me in and became my mentor, my friend, and the
object of emulation. With time, however, he too would
pass and the wing beats over the plain opened the path.

Role

Chapter 4

> Being born into a world of a most frigid temperament
and to a mother who's only yearning desire was the
loathsome touch of some fleeting traveler isn't a life
for the faint of heart. It can break the soul and dreams
of many children whom are unable to whether the mental
assault.

> As the months turned way to years, I watched as her
heart grew ever more fond, to the point of being
painfully so and to the caring of her child, nominally
less. As she was slowly overwhelmed by desire, two
thoughts rang clearly throughout my essence.

> First to arise from within the dark and dreary depth
was my desire to leave this accursed place, which I'd
grown up in, and secondly to what manor or nature could
cause such horrendous and horrific affliction as this.

> After some time of sitting within great retrospect I
understood what had caused her burning desire and had
attained the faint spark within, for retribution. As the
ash slowly drifted upon the chilly breeze, settled and
the blaze of her lost love finally extinguished, I left
the embers and ashes of a former home and sullen town.

Role

Chapter 3

> As the hours of daylight meandered past the flickering
of oil lamps began to fade, shutters battened, and the
soft rumbles of doors locking murmured softly, each sign
signaled to the further heralding of the coming
nightfall.

> The few remaining merchants and farmers dwindled and
tricked back to their homes until only two remained,
Sharisha and the traveler. To her, the time had come and
soon she too would head to the comfort of her home, and
tender nestling of a down-filled mattress, although this
night she would not be alone.

> Whether it was by grace of tongue, or slight of a
deceitful magic weaving, she was infatuated with the
handsome traveler. He thoughts coalesce and she recalls
that the nights were ever so cold these days and she
thought tonight she would not be alone. This chilly
winter night was the day I was conceived, and nearly the
origin of the end for the small mountain village.

Role

Chapter 2

> The day of the traveler began as any other. A cool
refreshing breeze blew across the lochs, birds and
wildlife trampled through the trees and snow dusted
ridges, the low clang of cow bells arose occasionally,
and a quiet rumble of wagon wheels encroached, ever so
softly, toward the town.

> Before the cock crowed, the life blood was beginning
to pump, and the heart of the town was coming slowly to
life. Shutters swung open, doors creaked and moaned as
frost-bitten hinges awoke from their nightly slumber,
each ushering in the word, that the town had now awoken
from it's evening reprieve.

> All the townsfolk were well prepared for the arrival
of the encroaching caravan but this was only a lone
peddler, preaching of tomes and spreading the word of
magic. The towns enthusiasm swiftly faded till only a
few more of the more auspicious merchants remained, among
them was a young, lithe and feathered avian woman named
Sharisha.

Role

Chapter 1

> Nestled high atop the southern mountains of the
western continent of Thera lies a small and quaint
village. It's origins are virtually unknown, as not even
a daft soul could understand the reasoning to form a
village at that lonesome location.

> This village is surrounded by a multitude of small,
semi-frozen, lochs and a dense forest of giant oak by two
sides. It's only ties to the world outside, relies on
the few traveling merchant caravans who brave the
northern slopes and icy mountain trails.

> Until this very day, the village survives in a somber
and solemn existence but it wasn't so long ago that I
suffered an incredibly horrendous injustice that will
forever leave a disgusting stain on the souls of some of
its inhabitants.

Immortal Comments

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