PK Deaths

Role

Chapter 3

There was never an epiphany, simply over the years it became clear to me that
magic was a subtle infection of the soul. It was a lullaby that smoothly
would work itself into a childs mind and drift them off a waking sleep they
could not identify. I was not fooled by what seemed to be an infection of
plague like proportions. I decided to work to heal those around me, with
words and blades when necessary.

I gave myself to war, which I found quite quickly to be ruled by chaos, but
my heart would always seek to heal Thera and those who populate it. Sometimes
the most helpful thing one can do is to amputate the infected limb of an
otherwise healthy body, or in some cases the most merciful act is to kill.

Role

Chapter 4

I have worked hard and in turn earned a hut within the village of Battle,
many years passed from the time I decided to join them and their war against
magic in Thera and the actual killing of a mage. During this time I learn
patience. Patience with the chaotic nature of the world, the war I fought and
with myself, failure would be something I had to embrace and learn from, not
be defeated by its momentary setbacks. Small victories began to mount, in my
training and skills as a hunter. It was this learned patience that I would
later translate into the monks teachings of the whispers of the great siege.

found myself alone at nearly every turn, weeks passing without seeing
another's footsteps in the village. I had not entered into this war lightly,
nor for friends to sit around a camp fire and trade tales with. I gave myself
to this war to heal the knowingly corrupt, the ignorantly infected and all
else who stood against the Village.

One day I awoke to find myself named Drillmaster of Battle, no prouder moment
had I experienced. No words had been spoken, no questions asked of me. I know
I must prove I am worthy of this position that I have been allowed to occupy,
this weighs on me daily. I have begun to formulate ways which I can fulfill
my duties to the Village, I revealed my first plan to Lord Verathi it seemed
to have been received well.

I see my place as Drillmaster as one may think of a smith working with a
masterfully forged weapon. I do not seek to destroy what is and rebuild it
into something entirely different, but to hone and refine what I find within
each of our current and future villagers.

PK Wins

PK Wins

Arena Statistics

Title History

Skill List

Skill List

PK Statistics

PK Gank-O-Meter

Immortal Comments

Role

Chapter 1

As a child I had an accident, one that I fully recovered from but barely
survived. The small village that I grew up in had a large lake near it, and
my father was quite the daredevil refusing to conform to the stereotypes and
fears shared by the rest of our kin. A student of elemental magic himself he
fully planned for me to apprentice under his tutelage. He insisted that I
spend considerable time in the waters as a youth to acclimate myself to
foreign environments. He was adamant that I think for myself and believe in
myself. I do not remember much, other than deciding one day I could swim the
width of the watery grave and a debilitating crap that caused me to sink like
a stone. I woke within our priests chambers still soaked to the bone, my
father looking at me with great concern, and pride.

I found myself endeared to Oglthor, the priest who had saved me. Over the
next many years I would serve as his apprentice. In time I saw a connection
with how water was used to cleanse wounds and my drowning. Without the
cleansing properties of the holy waters used infection could take over and
slowly finish what the injury had begun. I came to understand the waters of
the lake cleansed my soul of all interests in the path of magic my Father had
intended for me. That drowning experience prevented the infection of magic
from taking hold and guiding my life. It would take me years to fully grasp
this, all I knew while at work with Oglthor was my interest in magic had
disappeared entirely.

Role

Chapter 2

My days within the halls of healing will always be fond memories for me, I
loved learning the basic tenants of healing others. First one must recognize
the insult to the subject, a broken bone, torn flesh, an infectious disease
or still even less tangible threats, some suffer from sickness that feeds on
ones soul. Once the problem is identified the wound must be cleansed of all
matter that would fester and hinder the process of healing, if the proper
environment is not constructed and observed then at best one can slow the
march of illness or injury, rather than defeat it. Finally time must pass,
and if care has been taken, if love has guided the hand of the healer, then
the healed may recover stronger than before their sickness or injury.

I was well on my way to being accepted into the guild of Healing priests
within the city of Galadon when I began to notice something beyond the
illnesses and injuries that were becoming commonplace for myself and other
young students. It was not something tangible, merely something I could
sense. I began to notice I had an instinctual aversion to those that had
magic coursing through their veins and dancing across their possessions. I
began to voice these observations with other students and teachers, almost
immediately I was removed from my studies and looked on with apprehension and
distrust.