Alynthorin Broughton, the Priest of the Templars, Acolyte of the Golden Sun, Acolyte of the Golden Sun

Role

Chapter 1

Returning to the orphanage, the proud youth trembled with rage.
Before the old knight he went, tears welling in his eyes, his voice
ever-soft but trembling still.
"Master Jaragh, I seek to be a soldier, to follow the principles
you have taught me, to spread these tenets you have preached to us
all these many years. The school for warriors has sent me away, for
I refuse to agree with the evil that place breeds... if your Lords have gone
from this realm to what heavenly Lord might I seek guidance from?
Has none taken up the banner of Honor, or of War, since the Lord's Cador
and Bolthrower left Thera?"

Pursing his lips, the old knight paused, and then spoke equally softly
was one, but he has slept for many years... recently though
I have heard his Clarion ringing high on the morning breeze. Perhaps
he or his band of soldiers has returned. Seek him out among the
Southern peaks, and listen closely for the sound of his horn. His name is
Vynmylak,"

Role

Chapter 2

"You wish to enter Thrym's school for warrior's eh..?
Well, he is certainly the best in Balator to teach
you such things as combat, but is the life of a soldier
really what you seek?"

A silent nod is the knight's only reply.

"Very well then, I'll arrange for your entrance. You
can remain here as long as you like, so long as you
remain true to my teachings, young Alynthorin. You
will no doubt make an excellent warrior."

"Thank you, Master Jaragh. You have always been so kind."

Gracefully, the young Alynthorin turned and walked back to
his room, where he continued his long hours of calisthenics.

...
"What ye big bunch o' blubber butts, is the meanin' o'
War?". A massive blade named Skull was gripped lightly
in the massive fist of the giant.

Stuttering, a young arial, another one of Jaragh's
orphans, lifts his voice saying,"To defeat your enemy
with the least possible use of force and resources?"

"Hell nae that ain' the meanin' o' War!
War, ye young slog bellies, is te destroy
completely any who stand in yer way. Put them
down so they can ne'er rise against ye again. This
is the true purpose and goal of War."

Rising from his seat, the shy looking fae-kin
suddenly took on a rather proud and erect posture.
"I disagree," he said, not angry or rude, but as
a matter of simple fact.
"The goal of War is to defend one's people, to
promote freedom and prosperity where it is
threatened by oppression, and to stand against
any who would attempt to subjugate the right
of all people to live in peace if so they choose.
In short, War, although an opposing force to Peace,
fundamentally sustains the recurrence of it, and
ultimately it is only through the cyclic state
of War that any people have freedom"

The giant stood, obviously somewhat confused, before
belowing,"Ye don' come in my school an' tell me what
War is all about der ye bastard son o' an cave elf!"
"Get outta my school!".. and, fearing what might happen
next, the erect but somewhat fearful looking half-elf
turned on a heel and left.

Role

Chapter 3

"Today I will teach you of the Lord's I have followed
all my Life, that have guided me and my path, even
long after they both passed from these realms."
"The Lord Cador, who teaches us that Honor above
all things, is to be cherished and held onto. One
can survive immense tragedy, survive horrific war and
all manner of inequity, but within themselves if they
have Honor, they are, like the blade of this tattoo,
unbreakable..."

"The other I have followed in my life, the Lord
Bolthrower, teaches us what War is, and how we
must learn it, learn ourselves, and learn our
enemies, in order to gain victory not just in
war, but in life itself. First we must know
ourselves, our history, if we have one, and how
to overcome it. Then we must learn the world
we live in, it's mountains and valleys, and
many places to do battle. Finally, we must learn
our enemy, and more importantly, when we are our
own enemy. Defeat of the self is sometimes the
greatest challenge of all..."

Role

Chapter 4

"She's in a great deal of pain, Jaragh. I don't know that she's
going to live to see her child born. Not that she'd want to,
the filthy half-breed."

Letting out a long deep sigh, a tall knight places his hand
softly on the shoulder of the haggard midwife, speaking
in low tones.
"Do what you can, the drow seems to have afflicted her
with a scourge I cannot cure. And above all else, save the
child. Half-breed or no, children are innocents."

Muttering to herself, she nods half-heartedly, then again
more earnestly as she looks up toward the knight's stern
glare.

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