Cionadh Blazenbeard the Adjutant to the Helpless, Marshall of the Fortress

Skill List

Role

Chapter 8

It wasnt possible he stepped his last so young, Calinashar had been
so full of life, the silvery fire of the marans mantle, let alone
title of Marshall new to his shoulders for mere hours when Cionadh made
his pledge as a squire. But it is aid the brightest do burn out quickly.
The second Marshall he'd served gone as well, one whom he saw as sturdy and
even in his fight against the taint, Resdrenn Smythington. Fallen into
depression at the need for him to kill his own sister to stop some
insidious evil that had infected her. Far from perfect was either man
but both knew so much more of leadership than he. Their deeds in the war
against the dark were many and lasting, but the lessons taught to the
Squires, Scribes, Maran and Acolytes who served the Fortress alongside
them were a critical part of their legacy.

Calinashar had spoken to Cionadh of the Creed. Bid him read it daily, burn
the words in his mind, he'd taken this advice literally, reciting the
creed to himself as he fought. There was wisdom in this, using the
words as a mantra when hunting: Fight as the light, Strike swiftly and
true, It is our calling, our duty, our right. Were parts of the creed that
Cionadh often repeated to himself. Calinashar had also cautioned
the Fortress of misplaced courage. Cionadh had taken from his words
that it does not take courage to die, it takes courage to live and
continue the fight against the dark. Dying while aiding the watcher
in guarding the holy relics is an easy trap to fall into. If the defenders
fall while the Watcher yet lives, then the loss of the Orb is nearly assured.
Do not throw your life away in a single battle for we fight a war. Zealously
defend the Watcher and the relics when possible, but do not die needlessly.
This theme in various wordings, was part of Calinashar's advice to the Fortress.

Resdrenn's words to him had been of strategy. Leave the enemy no
escape, know your strengths and to use them in the war as best fits
the situation. When he felt need he even spoke of the details of a fight,
if he saw a tactic a squire or maran could use to end a foe more
quickly the next time he would advise on it. He had also taught
Cionadh much of the powers granted by the light to the Maran, of
their use and the responsibility that came with them. Cionadh thought
also on the missive penned while Resdrenn was yet a Maran, of the
squire Selria, who Resdrenn had recommended for entry to the Fortress
as a squire. Chastising her for neglecting the peril to the Orb
and reminding her of the duty to the Light. Resdrenn wished to remind
Selria that Study and adventure have their place but duty to the Fortress
falls second only to your duty to the light. Cionadh had disagreed with
the harshness of Resdrenn's words at the time, but not their intent.

Leading to the question what would the next Marshall reflect on as my lessons?

Role

Chapter 7

Cionadh thought on the events of the past few days morosely as his
battle-scarred fist clenched tightly 'round the bejeweled mug,
swirling it's divinely brewed contents around thirteen times one
direction, then the same the other. He was made sad that for him
to have taken this position it meant the man before him had passed
on to the heavens. It was the way of such things but it did not
make the loss any easier to bear. He pondered the path that brought
him here and a phrase his god had said to him. I have my lucky eye
on you. Well luck you are a fickle mistress of that there can be no
doubt.

When Cionadh set out from Akan those many years past he had not
dreamed aspire to this post. A passion for adventure and helping
those who could not or would not help themselves had set his boots
on this road. The Fortress and the Creed were, he was certain then
the right way to take on the task he'd set himself. He could do more
for people in the world by striking out at the dark then
sitting in a guard post waiting for invaders to strike. His decision
to take on the mantle as Marshall had been much the same. He knew
he wasnt perfect but if he did not lead when his chance came then he
was wasting his potential and not living life to its fullest. Leading
as the Marshall meant meant preparing the the members of the Fortress
for fighting against the dark. How could he best do this?

Cionadh's mood inspired him and be opened his journal to record his
thought on those who held this post before him in the time he had
served as a squire and Maran. He thought of the men they had been, he
considered his memories of fighting alongside them, but moreso he
thought of their advice to him. As he wrote of these things the answer
he sought came to him, how many Marshalls had their been in this Age?
He had learned so much from just the last two. Sharing lessons learned
from the lives of those of the Brigade who had passed on could be
a start of the way for him to prepare the Fortress of today
to better learn to defend itself in this war.

Role

Chapter 6

Cionadh fights passionately for those whom he sees as
helpless, unwilling or unable to defend themselves in a
world that is overtaken by the shadow of darkness. This
determination not to just defend but rather strike out at
the darkness is born of tragedy from his youth in Akan. He
was witness to raids that overwhelmed the watchman of his
home and the wanton destruction caused by those who invaded
anxious to prove their mettle by massacring the common
city folk. The dwarves reinforce and rearm, but the endless
assault never ebs its flow. The dwarves of akan are under
siege as much as those of war ravaged Mortorn, only from a
different enemy. He befriended and was trained by a now
deceased Dwarven paladin, who taught a simple blacksmiths
son of the of the Paladin code and set his feet on the
path of righteousness.

Cionadh treats his friends with kindness, geneorisity and
genuine compassion. He is quick to laugh and slow to anger.
When provoked by enemies he is a dauntless foe who pursues those
whom he sees as threatening any of the light until they yield,
die or the threat to the innocent has passed. Those who wish for
honorable combat are given due consideration, if it does not
unduly put those of the light at risk. However his primary
purpose lies in confronting evil, that it not be allowed to
strike innocents or smother their pursuit of happiness and he
will not allow his inactions or a blind adherence to rules
other than the Paladin Code to temper his cause.

Some may find it odd that one who seeks to aid those in need
would seek to become a Maran, rather than serve the spire. However
Cionadh has been convinced by the ineffectiveness of his own kind to
mount a proper defense that the only means to defeat the darkness
is by confronting it with purifying flame. He is optimistic in this
idea that he can truly make the world a better place for his people
by stopping those would take the lives of innocents before
they strike at their homes or loved ones. His is a life long
crusade in which he will expend every ounce of his effort to ensure
such a dream.


Cionadh has found in his faith a glimpse of the dwarf he may
have been, had this crusade not found him first, free to
enjoy life to its fullest rather than be bound to take up Code
and blade. He is hopeful that the stories he records of his journeys
will one day be shared among his people that he may live on
in their thoughts when a better time comes. He was raised by a mother
who was a devout believer in the Thirteen and braided Cionadh's beard
in plaits of the holy number since he was a youth, having heard stories
of this practice being called a luck beard. He has continued this tradition
at first to honor her, but now as a sign of his own faith in the Lucky Lord.

Role

Chapter 5

Paps,

Good to hear from ya and thanks for the news. I aint surprised about
Brunhilda, were it be different but Jacobrin will treat her
Thunderbelly is however a blow and I aint ashamed to say I shed a tear
learning he's passed on. Old fella taught me more about bein a dwarf
than right near anyone but you. I'll be drinking a good bit of
brew to his name dont you be doubtin it. Speaking of brew though as
it were in my last letter I was on pilgrimmage to the shrine of Lord
Whiysdan. Well that bit went well and then some. He be a right
good sort, I be honored such that he be askin me to prove myself
to his other priests. I be sent out and worked to complete a quest
of thirteen for him, bringing him things of use to those who's needin
help but can't be doing for themselves.

All went well with the questing and he's havin me known as an adjutant
to the helpless. I know the Biddy looked after you and the forge right
good all these years but I suspect a prayer or two tossed the Lucky
Lords way do ya some good. Lifes about more than working Pa, I know Ma
been after you to travel and see some things. I'm thinkin ya ought give
that a chance. One thing I be learning well and truly from my Lord
life is about more than just work and toil. Them things got a place sure
but take time to enjoy yourself. Ya ought to at least make it down to
the Inn of the Eternal Star and try the brews Olin be settin by there.
It aint the local specialty but its a rival to it. The company
there also aint half bad. The Chef is a gentlekind and I'll bet his meals
be fillin even ma's barrel of a belly.

Be telling Ma I miss her and hope ta hear ya making the trip.

Cionadh

Role

Chapter 4

Cionadh,
Is good to be hearing from ya son. Your ma be yankin my beard
to write back on the daily. You always been a hard headed one ya did
but I be meanin that in a good way. You see a thing needs
doing and getting to it, whether it be pleasant or no. So I
aint upset that you left as ya did. Catching ya up on the news
I suspect you'll want to know Brunhilda be married off to one
of the rosey cheeked sons of the brewer down the way. Her beard
were mighty fine looking on the day itself. I got some
sad news to share as well. That old buzzard Thunderbelly kicked off
to the ever after. I know ya was right fond of him and he been
a big part of putting these ideas in yer head about running off
to join the guild of Paladins as ya did. Well thats about all I
gots to say. Be knowin we're missing ya and be drinking a toast
to you on the crusading. Your ma be asking me also to tell ya
to be safe, but I know that aint nothing she needs to worry on.
You come from good stock and you'll be fine.


Yer paps

Role

Chapter 3

CRASH! Cionadh awoke blind, poison scalding his veins and wracked by fever, with an achin
pain as a huge spear was slammed into 'is armor..Using his cat like grace the dark
knight had vaulted up in the air and slammed a vicious lookin black bladed
spear into Cionadh's gut, thinkin ta end him in one go. But dwarfs is built of tougher
stuff than 'at. The duergar seemed surprise but wasted no time, bashin at 'im too
slammin him down to the ground. Luckily the mooses hooves didnt strike 'er
Cionadh'd surely been trampled to his death, some small relief there. Bleedin
from the vicious gut wound, but yet holdin on to his holy blade, he dragged it along
with him through the branches as he scurried away fleeing and
right nearly fallin from the trees while sending a prayer heavenward for succor

The priests of the temple of Hamsah seemed to be laughin at him behind their hoods
as he leaned at the high temple Altar. He was quite a sight fer sure, bloodied
plague boils bursting on his skin, and beggin their high priest fer healin. However
his spirit wasnt broken. He had a determined, if slightly buzzed look in his eyes as he whispered
quietly to the pewter mug beset with thirteen jewels.


"Well that aint quite what we were hopin fer, now was it. All I done was get
some dwarf blood spilled on the faerie trees. Had ta come up with some kinda plan
here, or a way ta stop that furry one from fellin him ta sleep with a single glance."
He looked about hisself and spied a vial he'd found in war ravaged Mortorn, a
concoction used by em battle crazed dwarfs he'd seen down in the deep halls and
kept in the altar of war fer desparate times. Normally a brew like this he'd
have swilled down long since, but this one was special and hid from sight most times.
It looked like the vial couldnt barely top off his mug, but he figured it couldnt
hurt nothin.

""Aint nothing to be lost I guess, not much chance that fellas dark magics can stand
against a 'zerker brew, I do say. Thinkin them dark ones'll not be much
feared by the weak showin ya made last time. Gettin a single sword stroke in aint
winnin no battle. Might still be round beatin on the elves." he whispered
into his mug. The mug did not seem to answer, if it carried some magic about it. It wasnt
of the talkin kind.

The lack of response didnt phase Cionadh and with a sip from the now
blended brew of zerker potion and divinely brewed whiskey, he whispered prayers numbering
thirteeen to the Lucky Lord and steeled his resolve for the return journey
to the city of elves, nestled in the trees of the vale, to fend off the dark foes
preying on the helpless ones he knew needed his aid there. That however is a
a tale with bit less trial, a bit more triumph but one that will have to
wait fer another day.

Role

Chapter 2

Cionadh was regaling Olin with yet another lecture on lettin them dark hearts
into the Inn when his drunken ramblings were interrupted by an unexpected voice..

"The gully duergar and dark knight are killin elves in Daryslon, ya know?", spoke
a gruff voice of a newcomer to the Bar. Cionadh eyed the rough lookin dwarf
over carefully, his appearance disheveled and beard ill kept. This one had a
reputation he'd heard of fer kin slayin, bein banned even from settin foot in Akan.

"I'm knowin it now, I am.", Cionadh stood and stepped back from the bar. "'ey were
there earlier with a skinchanger, takin the shape of a moose. He with em?"

"Dont know." the gruff stranger replied turning back to his cups, no doubt drownin
his sins in some of Olins ale. It was clear even goin so far as tellin Cionadh
of the slaughter had reminded him of what he'd lost fer greed.


Seein the kinslayer wouldnt be any more help, Cionadh readied himself for the
journey to lend aid to the flower sniffin elves, knowin it would likely not end
well, or could even be a trap. Would this infamous criminal of akan be in league
with the orcs? Surely he had nae slipped that far though. Cionadh though was thinkin he
couldnt let fear stop im from aidin the helpless ones. Sippin a time or thirteen
from the mug of the liquid courage o his Lord Whiysdan's brew, steeled his resolve
for the coming battle.

The city of Darsylon was a sight to behold, lofted in and about the ancient boughs of
the trees. It was not one Cionadh knew well, he preferred to keep two feet
squarely on the ground. but as he arrived in the central marketplace of the city a yell
rang out fer aid. The dark hearts were havin at it with the guard of one of the mages
guilds. He'd heard them mages had their places up in trees so started climbin
and lookin. As he did so, he spotted all three of em high in the boughs.
Duergar, dark knight, and shapeshifter, threatenin to him one and all.

They'd had done with the mage but werent ready for him. Cionadh got the jump on em
crushing the duergar with wrath o the gods, while swinging a blade made special
for gully rat killin at the duergars filthy head, Faith, Purity and Deliverance carried
the blade home. Twas a stroke of beauty, one ta make even Garwern proud. All struck home
and the coward fled, mage and dark knight in tow. Cionadh was even someat surprised
by the fierceness of the blow, and thought mebbe that odd board what had told his lord
Whiysdan he was a knight of Retribution was right after all. 'fore Cionadh was back on
his feet from the furious blade stroke, the dark knight prowled back towards him and
spoke a single word of arcane power...

Role

Chapter 1

Paps,

I were mean'n to writ this here for some time, know'n ma's
been pulling her beard wit worry bout me. Bein taken in by
de Paladins 'ere in Hamsah. As ya thought, they're need'n
a good smith same as any. Yer lessons o' the forge
doin me good stead, ev'n if the way of the blade is
more my path I'll not be forgett'n all ya taught me. I
know yer think'n twas rash of me to take to the Code
and leave our people, but I'm know'n that maken a real
difference in the world takes more than just defendin
our own.

Tell ma I'm doin as she said and seekin' the Lucky Lords
blessing. No doubt he'll see the passion it takes fer
one such as I ta leave his folk and drive back the dark
at it's source. I'll writ ya more after I've had a taste
of ale from one of the Thirteen mugs she's been on about
all these years.

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