Altenoir Longfurrow the Victorious Champion, Magistrate of Voralian City

PK Statistics

Role

Chapter 9

What does it mean to be a magistrate? This is the question
which so plagues Altenoir's mind. Not because the solution
is really so very obscure or difficult but because the answer,
or possible answers, pose a conflicting message to him.

Altenoir has in his short time as a magistrate already to some
extent tainted himself by his actions, by doing what he, thought,
was right for the "greater good". Both in doing his duty justly
and in times where he has avoided that same duty as to not
have to enforce the law upon those who he believes to be doing
"right". Therein lies the conflict however. for if a man is to only
uphold the law where it is convenient then what value or merit
does his word hold? Despite the assurances of a number well
meaning persons of high moral standard, to allow vigilantism
simply because it is being done under the pretenses of good
intentions is to render the laws meaningless, mere ideas without
substance.

So from all of this it can be gathered there are two reasonable
choices to be made. Either to steel his resolve and become as
rigid, unyielding and fair as the law dictates. Or to cast all that
he knows away in the search of something better, however...
If an appropriate metaphor for this dilemma would be hiking up
a treacherous winding mountain path to the peak of the mountain
where the only way to cross over an abyssal canyon to another
nearby mountain is by crossing a rickety and unstable wooden
plank bridge during a wind storm in the middle of the night where
each successive step across the bridge is filled uncertainty and
dread all while pushing a wheel barrow filled with rocks...

What would be the fun of going back down the mountain and
waiting for good weather?

Role

Chapter 8

For all the good and well founded and concerted efforts of fine men
and women all throughout the realm, it would seem to Altenoir that
there was also no shortage of entirely absurd and foolish people with
seemingly no rhyme or reason to their actions.

Concerning a letter sent to Tribunal as a whole by Kitok a fellow
magistrate which would seem to imply that the heralds, the very
same heralds who tend to the Lyceum which Altenoir had intended
to donate to, had a hand in bringing about the return of Lyristeon
for reasons Altenoir can only assume are ill-founded if existing at
all. "Why?" that is the question that Altenoir is faced with, why
would anyone knowingly do such a thing? There simply is no
satisfactory answer to be found and the only silver lining to all of it
being that at least it happened before he donated any amount
of currency to such a foolish organization who (As Altenoir lacks
the details or the context of the event leading to Lyristeon's return.)
even if not all among them are directly responsible they might as well
be, holding among them the one who holds the very reputation as
the "Redeemer of Chaos" that truth alone may as well make them
all as guilty Mliansref.

After all of this maybe the concept of philanthropy is a futile effort,
certainly if the beneficiaries would, in what Altenoir can only
assume was a flight of reckless whimsy, bring about the return
of such a creature and the heavens only know what tragedies
are to be brought with it.

Whatever the case may be, it all adds up to troubling times in Altenoir's mind.

Role

Chapter 7

__________________________________________________________

How are you?

I am fine.

I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while but I've been busy. In any case
a lot has changed for me recently, such as after expressing my
gratitude to the provost of the spire, Bharhum, I found myself tossed
into an almost surreal experience leading to the swearing my life in
the service of the very same spire and to the cities which laws
it upholds. Following their acceptance of me I was subsequently
assigned to duty in the port city of Seantryn Modan, the very same
place I spent some years for work after you left. The smell could
be better and there quite a few beggars but as I patrolled the streets
I felt the same sense of opportunity and high adventure as I did
when I first found myself within the confines of this city.

Although the guardsmen of Seantryn Modan are perhaps just a
little surly and with no shortage of down trodden citizens I hope
that my serving here will in at least a small way help to advance
unto them the security and means to trade up to a higher standard
of living.

Within the spire seems to be a many varied band of peoples,
even a duergar or two, despite the somewhat questionable
nature of their being I suppose as long as they have dedicated
themselves to the law and order which is to be upheld I can
tolerate them and hopefully being among the ranks of the Blood
Tribunal makes them of a lesser degree of vile than others of
their sort.

I am not deaf to the cries of the hungry and destitute and although
having just sworn an oath to the cities which hold them I do feel,
if only a slightly, a lingering doubt in regards to my assertions of
the opportunity afforded to them by these cities and in response
to such I have began to amass a fund for a charitable cause that I
received word of by way of courier. This charitable cause is being
held by the so called "Heralds of the Eternal Star" and specifically
the proceedings from this event are said to go towards the making
better of the Lyceum, a place of grand knowledge maintained
by these heralds, knowledge of which I'm sure you and I both know
can be as essential as bread or water.

I hope you would approve,

Altenoir

Role

Chapter 6

Dressed in a customary fine black suit, a man clears over grown
vegetation and debris from a simple gravesite in a place quite
clearly not often traversed. Finishing a short prayer over the headstone
the man pulls out a folded sheet of parchment and places it at
the foot of the headstone. Stealing glances from over his shoulder
occasionally the man slowly departed.

Some time after the man was long gone a sudden breeze forced
the sheet of parchment open, revealing its contents.

(Continued in the next chapter.)

Role

Chapter 5

Words which hold little meaning to I, the humble author...

Despite this fact, I feel obliged to offer at least a halfhearted attempt
to convey the meaning behind this role and so without further ado
I present this, a simple (Relatively speaking.) synopsis of the
previous entries.
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Born an ill and underweight half-breed bastard child of the underdark
from early on in his life Altenoir was treated as little more than a
farm animal and as such was subject to harsh labor by his blood
relatives. Bearing an unfortunate defect (Although the results of which
could arguably make it a blessing in disguise.) Altenoir soon became
of no use to his masters and from that point exchanged hands from
slave master to slave master in one bad deal after the next as merely
property to be bummed off to one unsuspecting half-wit from the
last. Eventually tiring of this existence Altenoir seized an opportunity
to escape from his most recent master into the hostile tunnels of the
underdark, a decision which he briefly regretted as he began to suffer
from the consequences of utter starvation. Fortune smiled upon the
boy however and he was rescued from the underdark by a group of
missionaries and brought to the surface where he was raised for the
remainder of his childhood.

Spending time at various orphanages, missions and eventually
in the care of a kindly aged man from Aturi named Winston
Longfurrow, Altenoir grew into a fine and respectable young man
with an at least fair education. After the death of his final benefactor
and grandfather figure, Winston, Altenoir traveled north to Seantryn
Modan for work, finding a place the likes of which he had only
imagined as he marveled at the wonders of civilized life and the
numerous opportunities presented to even one of his ill origins.
After a time of many odd jobs Altenoir decided to seek training
from the guild of warriors, hoping for the skills to earn a more
lucrative and fulfilling lively hood and so set off for the academy.

Being conscientious of heart and mind Altenoir's eventual goal
in life is to in some way extend the wonders of proper civilization
to all willing to accept it. Lacking a political mind and being of
little influence he struggles with how exactly he intends to do that,
prioritizing seeking a more stable set of circumstances to live
under first and foremost.

Role

Chapter 4

Altenoir sees civilization as a means for the tenacious and strong
of will to succeed and for the downtrodden and hungry to have a real
means to support themselves. Not all societies are necessarily modeled
in this image but under proper structure and leadership civilization
is much preferable to the dangers and savagery of the alternatives.

Being as he is, one might consider the warrior's guild as the last,
desperate choice for Altenoir but in truth it was his first, lacking
magical talent and the thought of hiding in shadows to avoid having his
face smashed in evoking thoughts far to reminiscent of his early
childhood for his comfort. Additionally he hopes to improve his
condition if only modestly through such martial training.

Altenoir tends toward generosity and well meaning intentions,
holding great respect for the people and laws whose convictions
advance like prospects unto the law-abiding and hard working
decent people.

Altenoir follows the sphere of spirit, believing that all the
varied obstacles faced by each individual can be passed through
tenacity, determination, and an iron will. Seeing personal
strength of character as essential, Altenoir is however not
in opposition of the occasional aid that is essential to most
all peoples at one time or another and certainly not against
providing such assistance if possible.

Although not entirely hateful of, Altenoir is at least somewhat
resentful of dark-elves and especially those who strongly embrace
their warped culture. Because of this Altenoir tends to be wary and
distrusting of even seemingly civilized drow.

Drawing from his upbringing by the various missionaries and
then Winston from who he inherited his namesake Altenoir
holds high faith in the good and beautiful in the world, tending
towards optimism. Receiving lessons in etiquette from Winston
Altenoir has adopted a very respectful and formal mannerisms.

Role

Chapter 3

Coming to age as his benefactor and grandfather figure (The kindly
rural gentleman by the name of Winston Longfurrow who had
taken in him educated and raised him for the later part of his
childhood.) departed into the afterlife Altenoir struggled
with tending to the farm he inherited from Winston. Not cut out
for and unable to meet alone the demanding and harsh workload
of farm work Altenoir eventually headed north to the nearby city
of Seantryn Modan for work.

Although initially struggling to find traditional employment, lacking
in physical and scholarly inclinations, as he scoured the city
he found something unexpected, a multitude of odd jobs and many
varied errands in exchange, not for tangible bartering items such
as food, resources or livestock but instead copper, silver and even
occasionally gold. Metals which on their base value were essentially
worthless and utterly useless, conferred into a virtual representation
of a reward for a man's labor. With these relatively useless, but
coveted metallic wafers even someone such as himself could achieve
a fulfilling and prosperous existence not as a burden or misfit but
as man all the same, if only he was to reach out and grasp it.
The city was not without its woes but it was a far cry
from the terrors of the underdark and the inhospitably harsh
conditions under which most farming and wilderness based works
demanded.

Although reasonably well off with the funds he could earn doing
whatever small tasks needed to be done around Seantryn Modan
exterminating sewer rats and preparing soup (Usually in that order.)
just wasn't fulfilling anymore, hoping for a more rewarding lively
hood he looked to the various guildhalls, eventually deciding upon entering
the guild of warriors for training, in hopes of a more lucrative life of
adventuring.

Role

Chapter 2

Changing hands multiple times Altenoir's childhood was filled
with one slavemaster after another purchasing him, finding him
worthless and then trading him to another unsuspecting owner.
At one point the feeble child had enough and managed to escape
and it on that same day that one lucky slavemaster's faith in
all that was unholy was renewed.

Starving and too weak to move in the reaches of the underdark
Altenoir began to re-evaluate his enslavement as his vision
began to give way to darkness and his mind to delirium. Just
as his consciousness faded his tainted blood gave him a fateful
glimpse at something off in the distance, something humanoid.
As he slipped into a coma the last thing Altenoir could feel was
something or someone grabbing him up and beginning to take
him off somewhere, probably an errant cannibal looking for his
lunch he thought, at least it would probably be quicker than
starvation.

Snapping from unconsciousness Altenoir found himself in the
care of some form of a mission, he had been found and rescued,
spirited away to the over world. Spending the remainder of his
childhood out of the clutches of twisted dark-elven society
Altenoir, with the support and education of various orphanages,
benefactors and finally a kindly older gentleman from Aturi to
whom Altenoir grew as like a grandson to, Altenoir grew into
a fine (Albeit meek.) young man.

Role

Chapter 1

Sweet sounds filled the night with an atmosphere of enchantment
one beautiful night in the underdark...

The cracking of whips as slaves screamed out in agony...

The gurgle of a would-be adventurer's last words garbled by
the blood pouring into his throat...

It was truly a night for romance and that romance was realized
as a fair young drow maiden (With the help of her armed escorts.)
made her way back to her quarters with her human "lover", a
strapping young slave conscripted into "service" of his mistress.
A short time later a bouncing baby half-breed was the result.
Altenoir would come to be the name of their unfortunate spawn.

Born ill, underweight and a half-breed at that Altenoir began his
life as nothing more than slave, doing whatever menial chores
his "family" commanded of him. Altenoir served his purpose for
much of his early life, but something was wrong with him from
the beginning, he was weak and feeble and of course because
of this the day inevitably came that he could no longer produce more
than he took and so was callously discarded by his blood relatives.
As he was loaded onto and shackled in the back of a wagon full of other
slaves that Altenoir knew, in his admittedly damaged juvenile mind,
that his mother was looking for good homes for also.

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