Lathlaeril Ar'dan Elorinathas the Light's Unwavering Knight, Marshall of the Fortress

Role

Chapter 9

His recent experiences as Maran constantly challenge his convictions, from
facing down the aggressive nexuns, to standing at odds with the Law when they
refuse and are unable to prevent a criminal undead rampage through Voralian.
Realizing that some judgment is not his to pass, he seeks what consolation he
can find in the sacred text of the Maran Kal. Within the opening passage
itself he finds calm and focus of purpose: "Nothing is more precious as the
Light. Nothing is above the Light."

Within the text he also finds embodied Lady Baerinika's wisdom, that
perfection is not meant for mortals, but it comes eventually as Maran become
Maran Tara'bal. So it would follow that any attempt at deeper and clearer
understanding within the confines of mortality must come through divine
guidance. It would also mean that mortals are to have faith in the divine in
order to breach the greatest challenges in their lives.

Thinking of his child, of his family, of his friends, of his brothers and
sisters in arms, of all the innocents he has vowed to protect, he feels he is
still not ready to reach the perfection as promised by the Maran Kal.
Selfishly, he sees many things that he would still wish to experience as a
mortal. To see his son grow into a man, to see his family flourish, to see
his friends his comrades in arms triumph. Ultimately he still feels he is not
ready to ascend to the Azure Fields and become Maran Tara'bal. Knowing that
his body, the most imperfect part of his existence is losing its vitality
rapidly, he is set to undergo a pilgrimage and beseech the divine to judge
his intentions, and should they judge them Pure, that they would grant him an
extended leave in which his actions and blades could sing for his family, for
his friends, for the Light.

Role

Chapter 8

As far as arranged marriages went, Lathaleril could imagine worse. His wife,
eminent within the Darsylonian political establishment, was a perfect match.
At least by the judgment of his parents. In truth, she was a lovely,
traditional lady of the high elven court, both flawless and gracious and as
beautiful as the evening stars. Conversations with her were like forging deep
rivers full of depth, challenge and rang with the force of her convictions.
In years past Lathaleril would be inclined to agree with his parents, Layanna
was perfect in many ways. But his years fighting for the Light had changed
him in a way that created subtle differences between them. Where she was
chiefly concerned with the current affairs of high elven kind, Lathaleril's
duty with the Holy Brigade presented him with the awareness of far greater
reaching dangers that he worried about. Where she preferred they spent their
time together in Darsylon in courtly affairs, Lathaleril preferred what
little time he allowed himself away from the Fortress to be spent walking
among the starlit Ironwood trees and streams of Arendyl. The union wasn't one
of sadness, but it was one founded on rational mutual respect rather than on
love. Perhaps that was to be cherished, if not as superior, at least as
sufficient.

The union resulted eventually with offspring. As Lathlaeril held his son and
named him Arenorandanarias he felt the senseless father's pride in having
achieved an act of propagation that seemingly all living creatures were apt
at. Still his reason couldn't diminish his unreasonable sense of joy and
accomplishment. He held the little creature and smiled, seeing for the first
time clearly what Purity and innocence under the Light truly meant. He
promised himself, that he would do all he could to have his son live the
peaceful life without the threat of darkness looming from every shadow. And
failing that, he would give his son a worthy legacy, a clean way set by
example of what it means to be a high elven lord, a protector inclusive of
all the Light's creatures, a true son of Elorinathas.

Role

Chapter 7

It is futile to attempt describing to the short lived the impact, the
gravity, the despair and tragedy when a high elf life is taken before its
time. For the arial and humans, there is only one way they can be. They flare
up in an instant and burn in the way their natures demand. And so they are
all the same, bright, brief flames that turn into nothingness. Very few of
them are unique, as none of them have time to develop into something truly
different. But high elves live for millennia. We have time and perspective to
build ourselves up slowly and deliberately into what we wish to become. And
it is us, high elves, that always build up to burn the brightest and the
longest, so we are a lasting light that keeps this world from darkness. So
when humans die, it is like the passing of a shooting star, their lives
beautiful, yet fleeting. But when a high elf life is taken prematurely, it is
like the sudden death of a star leaving a void in its place. Irreplaceable. A
tragedy worthy of despair.

With the loss of Seayon, who had so frequently acted as a spiritual guide for
Lathlaeril, he realizes now more than ever that existence without the divine
would be empty. He has started to read the ancient holy texts, searching in
them what comforting knowledge they can provide.

Role

Chapter 6

"Forgiveness is a virtue of the light. Remember that and do not sin again.
Consider what this weight has truly done to your soul, Lathlaeril. Shokai
teaches that you look over the edge of darkness and find yourself above it.
I, however, teach that goodness starts within the light. Any can preach
virtue, but few take the time to understand what it really means. How do you
know what it is to separate from the darkness if you do not also look
goodness in the eye and understand trust and light. Combat, to me, is to be
more willing to fight for that which you believe in. Refresh your memories on
your duties, Maran."

The words of Lady Baerinika struck him as with heavy spiritual weight.
Acknowledgement from a divine being, propelling you even further on the path
of your determination. Acceptance in a way and reaffirmation of one's duty.
Lathlaeril finally sees a part of the reason why priests always speak so
reverently of their deity. If words merely spoken from such a distance had
such weight, how could one even imagine the true gravity of a divine one's
presence in the flesh.

Role

Chapter 5

What happened in Ayr'Trinil haunts Lathlaeril. His consciousness is
struggling to cope with the death of the innocent. Internally he shifts blame
constantly, in the same breath even. He blames himself, he then blames Klus,
he even blames the little girl. What would possess her to lash out at a high
elf? But then he hates himself even more for it.

He finds it hard to trust Klus after what happened.

He knows that he must seek atonement, and redeem himself in the eyes of the
divine. He must work harder, he must be better. He is not like the orcs
lining up children in Arendyl.

Role

Chapter 4

Blood and viscera was drying on Lathlaeril's face and armor as the body of a
young arial girl lay sprawled in front of him, lifeless. With the realization
of what he had done, despair gripped him and pulled him into a bottomless
abyss.

"Oh, no." he said weakly.

For a long time there was no other sound.

"Oh, no." he said weakly.

For a long time there was no other sound.

"We must take the time, and say our prayers," said Najuro.

Lathlaeril still felt as though there was no soil under his feet. He felt
light headed, he was in free fall. He found himself glaring at Klus. She was
leading them, and she had been warned that a young innocent had become
aggravated in confusion and was trailing them. She had been scanning ahead,
she must have seen the child there.

"This was not intentional," said Najuro preemptively, seeing the look in his
eyes.

"You led me into her!" he growled at the shapeshifress.

She was silent. She offered no response, she gave no defense. She just
kneeled close by the girl's body and seemed to start praying.

Lathlaeril could accept and expect total incompetence from the human, but
Klus, she was high elf herself. Such mistakes should have been beyond her.
Such mistake should have been beyond both of them. He was furious at her.

"This will stain my soul forever." Lathlaeril said and left the silent
shapeshiftress and the dead arial girl.

Role

Chapter 3

Part of attaining Purity must be facing corruption. For an elf it invariably
translates to conflict with Darkness, personal selfishness and cowardice in
general, but specifically with orcs and drow as well. The orcs are the result
of fallen elves corrupted even further by Dark Gods. They represent the cost
of losing Faith. The drow are the result of elves not heeding the wisdom of
the Gods of Light, and not embracing the curse of iron as a blessing. They
represent the cost of rebelling against the wisdom of the Light. They are
both a blemish to the elven legacy, and as such Purity demands that elves
eradicate this corruption.

If the goal is to eradicate the corruption that taints elven Purity, one must
strive to eradicate the taint of evil in order to prevent future corruption.
And who would ever be worthy or capable of accomplishing such a grand task if
not a high elf?

It became glaringly obvious that by guarding the Palace Gates one
accomplished only a very limited goal. Darsylon's safety was of extreme
importance, but the fight to end all evil, and with that the greatest threat
to Darsylon and elven Purity, was elsewhere.

With great pain he went against tradition again and stopped his training with
the Guard. A fortnight later he had pledged himself to the tarabal.

Role

Chapter 2

From his mother he'd learned the concept of Purity in the sense of goodness,
kindness and a strong and untainted reverence for the Light. But during his
training for the Palace Guard this notion of Purity was shifted to be central
to what being a high elf actually means. The high elves were the first race.
The oldest, the smartest, the greatest, the purest. All others were shades
less than an elf. All others had challenges they couldn't overcome, so it was
on us to do it for them. There was Purity only in being an elf, to being a
paragon that protects all the other lesser creatures of the Light by
destroying the even lower forms of life that skulk in the Darkness.

His first encounter with the lower forms came unexpectedly. While he was
tagging along a ranger on his general scouting mission. The ranger's arrow
caught the orc in the neck. Doomed as it was, its black blood pooling rapidly
under it, it roared in defiance and began dragging itself toward them, bent
to kill. The second arrow pierced its thick skull and life departed
instantaneously. Lathlaeril kept staring at the creature. His father had said
that they had been created by dark gods from fallen elves. Losing sight of
elven Purity was the cause of both orcs and drow. The ranger reached
Lathlaeril, shook him back to his senses and almost dragged him up the great
Ironwood tree where they hid in the canopy just in time as a large group of
orcs came to investigate the commotion. What followed, was the hardest and
darkest hour in Lathlaeril's life.

The orcs had captured some elves. Most of them children. He told himself that
he had to obey the ranking officer. He told himself that if it was up to him
he would have jumped off from the canopy and slain all the orcs or died in
glory. He told himself many things and they all sounded hollow. What he
really did was slink back in the shadows of the canopy, barely daring to
breathe, and watched and listened as the orcs did what orcs do.

The Guard eventually came, too late to save anyone, but still in time to
avenge the fallen. The ranger let loose all the arrows in a focused rage, but
by the time Lathlaeril shook himself out and climbed down the tree, it was
all over.

Everyone was understanding, but his father's words hit home the most.
"Challenges present themselves, weather you are prepared or not," he said.
"So prepare yourself.".

Role

Chapter 1

Lathlaerilandanarias Ar'dan Elorinathas was born under the stars on a
peaceful autumn night in Arendyl. He was born as the fourth son to a loving
mother and a stern and disciplined father. His father was an invoker of some
repute, and he spent most of his time in council at the Palace in Darsylon.
But his mother was a match to all challenges parenting provided, and
Lathlaeril grew up in a happy childhood, surrounded by love.

As a child he spent his time climbing the great Ironwood trees, chasing with
his friends across the brooks and meadows of the Valley. They sometimes even
crept up to the edge of the Valley, built an effigy to attract the aggressive
falcons and then threw rocks at them. Sometimes running away from the
aggravated birds was half the fun. Until his father found out about it.

While his mother was a central presence in his life. His father, even though
mainly absent, spent all the time he had with his children reinforcing
structure and discipline and had a deeper impact on Lathlaeril. All matters
were to be pursued with the obsessive demand for perfection characteristic of
the Invoker's Guild, or not pursued at all. Needless to say, the additional
time required for perfection in even the simplest of task created friction
between father and son.

In an act of rebellion against his father, Lathlaeril chose to go against
tradition, and enroll in the Palace Guard instead of becoming a mage himself.
The expected outrage from his father never came. If he felt slighted, he
never showed. That in itself was irritating. Infuriating even.

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