Tolmir the Master of the Wilderness, Keeper of Bargains

Role

Chapter 5

The Lich Lord asked with a smirk. Steeling himself, Tolmir responded
affirmatively and a deal was struck. Scarabaeus slit Tolmirs left wrist and
the bargain was sealed in blood. The life of a light walker in exchange for
Tolmir's freedom. A catch though, fail to make good on the deal within three
revolutions of the spheres and there would be a...penalty.

Tolmir braced himself for magical transportation. Readied to see a portal
open before him, back to Tir-Talath perhaps. Wanted to feel the tingling
sensation that came with moving by supernatural means. It would not come.
With a terrible cackle, the Lich Lord pulled his sword of Perdition and swung
it down upon Tolmir's head. Freedom he said, not the method in which it would
be granted...

Role

Chapter 4

Tolmir sat staring at the golden box before him. Surely it held the key to
the next area, but he knew from the last few days in the foul prison of
Glymarach not to just go pulling levers at random. Four levers, each topped
with a different precious stone corresponding to the golems outside. What's
the answer? He asked himself. The shaken nerves and adrenaline of this place
was a welcome relief from the memories of his past, but it still took its
toll on him. Muttering and rubbing his sweaty palms together, he made his
move. The first lever he pulled, thinking to mimic his answer to the golems.

WHOOOSH...

A chute opened beneath his feet and he plummeted through the ground, bouncing
off the walls and spinning out of control. Suddenly he hit open air, and
though it was a welcome feeling compared to the jagged walls he quickly saw
his fate below. With a crash he landed in a heap of bones. Human, dwarf,
giant, all mixed together haphazardly. He quickly rolled to his feet,
grabbing his displaced hat as he went. Breathing hard and trying to calm down
as he took in his surroundings, his heart sank yet again. Hellhounds. Three
of them. Fuck. No way out. Gritting his teeth with determination and readying
himself for battle he gave a shout, "Come then pups, meet your new master!"
Rather than wait for his fate he lept directly into all three vicious beasts.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

All these years on the move. Always on the move. It was the only way to
escape the nightmares and heart breaking memories of his home. What was he to
do now? It was maddening being trapped in this cage. The wizard Glymarach
wouldn't answer. The Acolytes paid no heed to his predicament. Time and again
he was abandoned to this fate by those he thought to trust and count on.
Foolish. The hellhounds kept coming and the water ever more scarce. The
months drug on and Tolmir's sanity waned. Hellhound meat is fetid, like
eating lamb that was left to rot for weeks and then pissed on. He had to keep
his strength up though. Worst of all the nightmares, oh god the nightmares...

Hope was nearly lost when Tolmir prayed to the gods to give him a way out.
His faith was gone the moment Delia fell silent, but he knew no other way to
escape this hellish environment. Quietly the shadows of the place began to
gather. The light given by the lava below was diminished to a point where
sight was nearly lost completely. From the shadows stepped a horrific figure.
The Lich Lord Scarabaeus. Not what Tolmir expected.

The two spoke, Tolmir vainly attempting to sate his nerves and quell the
shaking of his limbs. Hard to stand before such a being and not feel as a
helpless child lost in the darkest, deadliest wilderness.

"Do you consider yourself a risk taker?"

Role

Chapter 3

Out of the dark a figure leaps forth, steel glinting in its hand. Luckily it
chose the wrong angle. Tolmir is able to put a foot to the figure's gut and
flip the assailant onto the ground behind him. The young lovers roll to their
feet quickly and turn to face their opponent. No time to think, the figure
lunges for Tolmir again. Tolmir readies himself, but before he can act his
sweet Delia leaps in front of him and takes the knife in her breast. With a
gasp she slumps to the floor between the two. The moon light reveals the
figure's face. It is the older man, with a look of surprise, panic, and fear
he begins to back away and turns to run.

Fiery rage burns in Tolmir's blood. Passionate anger beyond the edge of
sanity. As the older man begins to flee, Tolmir leaps on him with the speed
and power of a truly wild beast. First, he brings the man to the ground and
slams his face into the dirt. Grabbing a nearby rock he brutally splits the
man's skull. Bludgeons it again, again, again, and again. It's not enough to
quell the rage. The desire to rip the man limb from limb consumes him. He
drops the rock and begins pounding with his fists, dull thuds of flesh on
flesh accompanied by a chorus of cracks as the man's bones break and his
innards turn to mush. By the time he is done, the remains are barely
recognizable. A shattered shell of what once was a man.

Tears marring his cheeks and burning his eyes, Tolmir returns to his fallen
companion. The body already lifeless, her beautiful eyes still, and her
breast never to move again with the breath of life. An emptiness, like a
great void fills Tolmir followed by a budding fear. He's lost the first
thing he ever truly cherished. Who would they blame though? Tolmir. They
would say he killed them both in jealousy, if he couldn't have her, no one
could. Nothing left, surely to be put to death himself, he kisses the soft
lips of his woman one last time before grabbing his belongings and making off
into the night. A lone wanderer with nothing left to lose, brash and
uncaring. A burning passion never to be fulfilled again.

Role

Chapter 2

A young Tolmir sits before the festival fire, staring across its dancing
flames at the face of a beautiful young woman. Light and shadow playing
across her face, accentuating the perfect angles and glinting off her
intoxicating emerald eyes. Her blond hair shimmers and her smile lights up
the night, diminishing the glow of even the roaring fire. Sweat is beading on
his palms and you can visibly see the heat rising to his face. He takes no
notice of the people dancing around the fire to the sweet melodies of a
traveling bard's lute. So entrenched he is in his own passion, captivated by
the lusty love of teenagers.

A man sits next to her, at least twenty years her elder. Dark, brooding eyes
and a face that never sees cheer. How can he be so grim when such a beauty
sits at his side? The two came to the village not a week past. An arranged
marriage and a retirement to the small, quaint farming community. The man has
wealth and contributes nothing, speaks with no one, and rumors fly about his
past. The girl though, beautiful as she is lives life as all the village
girls do. Obviously unhappy with the older man, she maintains an aura of
cheer and good will. Tolmir fell for her almost instantly.

The two always speak in passing. Flirting as two young lovers might. A touch
of his arm, a brush of her hair, a too-warm hugging embrace upon parting.
Unbeknownst to them, the older man takes notice. Viewing them out of the window,
staring daggers of jealousy and contempt. He knew, and he wasn't to be
trifled with.

As the fire dies down and the drunken elders begin taking to their beds for
the night, the older man slips away into the dark. No doubt to his own bed,
frustrated that his young woman would not be joining him. She wants to watch
the fire die she says, the night air feels good and she doesn't want such an
amazing night to end so soon. Of course, she has eyes for Tolmir. The two
wait a while, giving the man time to fall asleep and then head off into the
darkness. Hand in hand.

They lay just outside the fields of wheat. Panting, sweat glistening on their
naked skin. She giggles and pulls Tolmir closer. The two smile and bask in
the glow of the stars, and of fiery passion. Desperate for each other, they
have found happiness in their youthful love. Too bad it must come to such a
crushing end.

Role

Chapter 1

The sun sets over fields of wheat, the cool breeze creating an illusion of a
great shimmering sea of gold. In the distance is a small cluster of cottages,
bordering a great forest. As you near, you can tell it is a small farming
community. These people live an idyllic life in a world otherwise fraught
with peril. You notice women beating some rugs outside while small children
play about their feet. Men sit at the porches watching the sunset, smoking
pipes and chatting idly about the weather and the day's work. These people do
not speak of good or evil. They care only for their farms and family. Farming
the fields hard work, but fulfilling.

One man appears very young, perhaps sixteen, yet he is broader at the
shoulder than any other in the stead. Rocking gently in an old wooden chair,
he smiles a smile of youth and confidence. He gently chews on a sprout of
wheat as he speaks to the man next to him, most likely his father. The older
man shakes his head and smirks, listening the boy's tales of "adventure"
through the quiet forest near their home.

This is home for Tolmir Dunland and he is the young man. Only a memory now,
one that will never return.

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