Jaerith - Revision history

Jaerith at 15:00, 1 October 2012

2012-10-01T15:00:38Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:00, 1 October 2012
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	== Player Provided Information: ==		== Player Provided Information: ==
	<BR>		<BR>
			Jaerith, was once an assassin within Vorax's Veldrin. Disobedience during his last days in Veldrin caused his former Deity to strip him of his Shamanic Essence and rip his identity away.
			<br>

	== Personal Timeline: ==		== Personal Timeline: ==

Belsambar at 13:40, 1 October 2012

2012-10-01T13:40:25Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:40, 1 October 2012
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	\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}		\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}
	\|last_seen =		\|last_seen =
	\|followed = [[Vorax]]<BR>[[Majere]]<BR>[[Wylin]]<BR>[[Cecil]]		\|followed = [[Vorax]]<BR>[[Majere]]<BR>[[Wylin]]<BR>[[Cecil]]<br>[[Hutt]]
	\|spouse =		\|spouse =
	\|partner =		\|partner =
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	}}		}}
	[[Category:Drow Elf]]		[[Category:Drow Elf]]
			[[Category:Wisdom (Hutt)]]

	== Mud Contributions: ==		== Mud Contributions: ==

Jaerith at 15:46, 11 July 2012

2012-07-11T15:46:38Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:46, 11 July 2012
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	08/22/11 Elf [ Ra:22 Cl:24 ] Jaerith Alandor, Ivory Priest		08/22/11 Elf [ Ra:22 Cl:24 ] Jaerith Alandor, Ivory Priest
	08/30/11 Elf [ Ra:23 Cl:24 ] Jaerith Alandor, Bastard of House Veldrin		08/30/11 Elf [ Ra:23 Cl:24 ] Jaerith Alandor, Bastard of House Veldrin
			07/11/12 Elf [ Ra:24 Cl:25 ] Jaerith Alandor, Apostate of the Legion

	<BR>		<BR>

	== Character History: ==		== Character History: ==
	~~(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)~~		[Being Rewritten]

	As childhoods go, Jaerith's was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. His parents had died of of a plague that had ravaged Harper's Landing when he was but 6 years old. Since then he spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. <br> <br>
	~~This seemed to go on for many, many years. The old man and the young boy, going about their daily routines, each independent of the other.<br> <br>~~
	As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. It began with simple orders, or instructions, his words used only to make their lives a little easier. As the months turned into weeks, and weeks to years, though, the Old Man began to let him into his world. <br> <br>
	Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was very atypical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. It was in no way close to the raw energy the Shaman was capable of, but for a teenager it was beyond anything he had thought possible. Months into his tutelage, The Old Shaman taught him to draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br> <br>
	They barely spoke. It became like it was during his early childhood, except instead of ignoring Jaerith, The Old Shaman generally expected Jaerith to know what he wanted, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing.
	<br>Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br> <br>
	On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br> <br>
	Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br> <br>
	After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to his knees and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. The forst around him seemed cold and menacing. Rows of oak trees cast faint shadows on the soft earth beneath him, dancing from the moonlight beyond the canopy. In. Out. In. Out. <br> <br>
	~~The presense. It was there. All around him. Malevolence. In. Out. In. Out. He fell to the cool earth and everything went dark.<br><BR>~~

	~~----~~
	~~<BR>~~

	He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.
	~~<br><br>~~
	Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft red light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more. Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.
	~~<br><br>~~
	Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own. <br><br>
	It was during the last days of House Veldrin, just before the disappearance of their God, Vorax, that the Jaerith that was, came back to conciousness. He was standing in an Entryway to a dark Cathedral. Chanting encompassed everything within, droning out any other sounds. Jaerith blinked as he stared beyond at the circle of what he took to be monks. After a brief moment of reverie, he looked down at himself. Dark leathers covered him from his feet to his neck. Two finely crafted maces hung securely on his studded belt. He was bewildered. The last concious thought he could remember was waking up in a small bed chamber and being extremely thirsty. He felt a pulse of pain run through his body and a brilliant blue light flared between his eyes. <br>
	<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i> <br>
	<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious. <br>
	<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small red gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.
	~~<BR>~~

	== Trivia: ==		== Trivia: ==

Cordir: Category:Drow Elf

2012-04-16T19:41:31Z

Category:Drow Elf

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:41, 16 April 2012
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	\|status = Active		\|status = Active
	\|retire_date =		\|retire_date =
	\|race = {{Race\|Elf}}		\|race = (Drow) {{Race\|Elf}}
	\|hometown =		\|hometown =
	\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}		\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}
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	\|portfolio =		\|portfolio =
	}}		}}
			[[Category:Drow Elf]]

Cordir: moved worship of Cecil to the 'followed' section. "Following" is for FLIs that have a following :)

2012-01-24T15:48:32Z

moved worship of Cecil to the 'followed' section. "Following" is for FLIs that have a following :)

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:48, 24 January 2012
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	\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}		\|classes = {{Class\|Ranger}}<BR>{{Class\|Cleric}}
	\|last_seen =		\|last_seen =
	\|followed = [[Vorax]]<BR>[[Majere]]<BR>[[Wylin]]		\|followed = [[Vorax]]<BR>[[Majere]]<BR>[[Wylin]]<BR>[[Cecil]]
	\|spouse =		\|spouse =
	\|partner =		\|partner =
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	\|areas_written =		\|areas_written =
	\|immorted_on =		\|immorted_on =
	\|following = ~~Cecil~~		\|following =
	\|portfolio =		\|portfolio =
	}}		}}

Jaerith at 15:09, 24 January 2012

2012-01-24T15:09:25Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 15:09, 24 January 2012
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	\|areas_written =		\|areas_written =
	\|immorted_on =		\|immorted_on =
	\|following =		\|following = Cecil
	\|portfolio =		\|portfolio =
	}}		}}

Cordir: /* Character History: */ minor formatting cleanup

2011-12-07T16:23:53Z

Character History:: minor formatting cleanup

Jaerith: /* Character History: */

2011-12-06T21:42:59Z

Character History:

← Older revision		Revision as of 21:42, 6 December 2011
Line 144:		Line 144:
	(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)		(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)

	~~His childhood, though vivid and colorful for an orphan child~~, was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. He spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. This seemed to go on for many, many years.<br>		As childhoods go, Jaerith's was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. His parents had died of of a plague that had ravaged Harper's Landing when he was but 6 years old. Since then he spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. <br>
	As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. To let him into his world. Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was ~~not typical~~. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. To draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br>		This seemed to go on for many, many years. The old man and the young boy, going about their daily routines, each independent of the other.<br>
	They barely spoke. ~~One~~ generally ~~knew~~ what ~~the other needed~~, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing. Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br>		As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. It began with simple orders, or instructions, his words used only to make their lives a little easier. As the months turned into weeks, and weeks to years, though, the Old Man began to let him into his world. <br>
			Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was very atypical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. It was in no way close to the raw energy the Shaman was capable of, but for a teenager it was beyond anything he had thought possible. Months into his tutelage, The Old Shaman taught him to draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br>
			They barely spoke. It became like it was during his early childhood, except instead of ignoring Jaerith, The Old Shaman generally expected Jaerith to know what he wanted, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing.
			<br>Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br>
	On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br>		On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br>
	Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br>		Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br>

Jaerith: /* Character History: */

2011-10-08T04:39:29Z

Character History:

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:39, 8 October 2011
Line 155:		Line 155:
	He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.		He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.
	<br>		<br>
	Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft ~~blue~~ light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more.Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.		Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft red light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more. Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.
	<br>		<br>
	Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own.		Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own.
Line 161:		Line 161:
	<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i>		<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i>
	<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious.		<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious.
	<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.		<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small red gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.
	<BR>		<BR>

Jaerith at 04:25, 8 October 2011

2011-10-08T04:25:07Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:23, 7 December 2011
Line 144:		Line 144:
	(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)		(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)

	As childhoods go, Jaerith's was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. His parents had died of of a plague that had ravaged Harper's Landing when he was but 6 years old. Since then he spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. <br>		As childhoods go, Jaerith's was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. His parents had died of of a plague that had ravaged Harper's Landing when he was but 6 years old. Since then he spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. <br> <br>
	This seemed to go on for many, many years. The old man and the young boy, going about their daily routines, each independent of the other.<br>		This seemed to go on for many, many years. The old man and the young boy, going about their daily routines, each independent of the other.<br> <br>
	As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. It began with simple orders, or instructions, his words used only to make their lives a little easier. As the months turned into weeks, and weeks to years, though, the Old Man began to let him into his world. <br>		As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. It began with simple orders, or instructions, his words used only to make their lives a little easier. As the months turned into weeks, and weeks to years, though, the Old Man began to let him into his world. <br> <br>
	Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was very atypical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. It was in no way close to the raw energy the Shaman was capable of, but for a teenager it was beyond anything he had thought possible. Months into his tutelage, The Old Shaman taught him to draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br>		Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was very atypical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. It was in no way close to the raw energy the Shaman was capable of, but for a teenager it was beyond anything he had thought possible. Months into his tutelage, The Old Shaman taught him to draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br> <br>
	They barely spoke. It became like it was during his early childhood, except instead of ignoring Jaerith, The Old Shaman generally expected Jaerith to know what he wanted, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing.		They barely spoke. It became like it was during his early childhood, except instead of ignoring Jaerith, The Old Shaman generally expected Jaerith to know what he wanted, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing.
	<br>Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br>		<br>Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br> <br>
	On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br>		On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br> <br>
	Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br>		Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br> <br>
	After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to his knees and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. The forst around him seemed cold and menacing. Rows of oak trees cast faint shadows on the soft earth beneath him, dancing from the moonlight beyond the canopy. In. Out. In. Out. <br>		After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to his knees and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. The forst around him seemed cold and menacing. Rows of oak trees cast faint shadows on the soft earth beneath him, dancing from the moonlight beyond the canopy. In. Out. In. Out. <br> <br>
	The presense. It was there. All around him. Malevolence. In. Out. In. Out. He fell to the cool earth and everything went dark.		The presense. It was there. All around him. Malevolence. In. Out. In. Out. He fell to the cool earth and everything went dark.<br><BR>
	<br><BR>
			----
			<BR>

	He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.		He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.
	<br>		<br><br>
	Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft red light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more. Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.		Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft red light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more. Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.
	<br>		<br><br>
	Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own.		Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own. <br><br>
	<br> It was during the last days of House Veldrin, just before the disappearance of their God, Vorax, that the Jaerith that was, came back to conciousness. He was standing in an Entryway to a dark Cathedral. Chanting encompassed everything within, droning out any other sounds. Jaerith blinked as he stared beyond at the circle of what he took to be monks. After a brief moment of reverie, he looked down at himself. Dark leathers covered him from his feet to his neck. Two finely crafted maces hung securely on his studded belt. He was bewildered. The last concious thought he could remember was waking up in a small bed chamber and being extremely thirsty. He felt a pulse of pain run through his body and a brilliant blue light flared between his eyes.		It was during the last days of House Veldrin, just before the disappearance of their God, Vorax, that the Jaerith that was, came back to conciousness. He was standing in an Entryway to a dark Cathedral. Chanting encompassed everything within, droning out any other sounds. Jaerith blinked as he stared beyond at the circle of what he took to be monks. After a brief moment of reverie, he looked down at himself. Dark leathers covered him from his feet to his neck. Two finely crafted maces hung securely on his studded belt. He was bewildered. The last concious thought he could remember was waking up in a small bed chamber and being extremely thirsty. He felt a pulse of pain run through his body and a brilliant blue light flared between his eyes. <br>
	<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i>		<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i> <br>
	<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious.		<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious. <br>
	<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small red gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.		<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small red gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.
	<BR>		<BR>

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:25, 8 October 2011
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	(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)		(excuse the crude syntax, it's been years since I tried to write.)

	His childhood, though vivid and colorful for an orphan child, was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. He spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. This seemed to go on for many, many years.		His childhood, though vivid and colorful for an orphan child, was rather mundane. He spent his days wandering the forests outside of a small town known as Harper's Landing, foraging for food, gathering discarded trinkets, trying to eek out a meager existence. He spent his nights sitting by the steadily burning fire of the Shaman that lived just north of of town. They had never exchanged names, though Jaerith felt connected to him. Somehow safe within the hut. The Shaman ignored his presense most of the time, seeming to barely notice him. This seemed to go on for many, many years.<br>
	As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. To let him into his world. Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was not typical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. To draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.		As Jaerith approached his teens, The old wizened man finally began to speak to him. To let him into his world. Jaerith began to study the runes the old man was constantly drawing. The two of them meditated for what would seem like an eternity to any typical child. Jaerith, fortunately, was not typical. Able to focus far more than most his age, he slowly but surely began learning the mystical arts. By his sixteenth birthday, he was able to pull energy and power from the world around him. To draw on the earth, and in return allow it to draw from him. The symbiosis that only comes when one lets go and truly accepts that they are part of something vast and greater than themselves.<br>
	They barely spoke. One generally knew what the other needed, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing. Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember.		They barely spoke. One generally knew what the other needed, and the two of them lived a simple life within the small area north of the Landing. Simple tasks often overflowed into the teachings, and vice versa. The act of making dinner often came with another lesson, the small teachings often overlapped with the gathering of supplies and tending their small patch of land. Jaerith was content. Moreso than he could ever remember. <br>
	On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.		On the night of his seventeenth birthday, whilst gathering kindling for the Shaman's fire in the forest north of the Landing, Jaerith felt the presence of something. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he could feel eyes on him. A presence that he hadn't felt in the forest before. Dropping the kindling, he tried and tried to focus his mind's eye and figure out what was disturbing the balance of the forest around him. Unfortunately, his efforts were fruitless, as he was attempting what was beyond mortal minds. The harsh scent of burning wood, tar and animal hide brought him out of his transe, and his gaze turned back toward Harper's Landing. The soft orange halo was glowing just beyond a large tree that sheltered the Shaman's Hut. He stood and ran back toward the town.<br>
	Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno.		Jaerith returned to the Hut to find it in engulfed. The roaring flames were cacophonous. It almost sounded like laughter. Sinister, evil laughter. He felt a sinking, hopeless feeling from within, a void that seemed to be growing inside. Jaerith turned and ran. His sole thought was "get away". He ran faster and further than he ever had before. seconds seemed like minutes. The forests around him grew denser and it was harder and harder to run. merely seventeen years old and his whole life had collapsed around him in an inferno. <br>
	After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to his knees and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. The forst around him seemed cold and menacing. Rows of oak trees cast faint shadows on the soft earth beneath him, dancing from the moonlight beyond the canopy. In. Out. In. Out.		After what seemed like hours, he collapsed to his knees and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. The forst around him seemed cold and menacing. Rows of oak trees cast faint shadows on the soft earth beneath him, dancing from the moonlight beyond the canopy. In. Out. In. Out. <br>
	The presense. It was there. All around him. Malevolence. In. Out. In. Out. He fell to the cool earth and everything went dark.		The presense. It was there. All around him. Malevolence. In. Out. In. Out. He fell to the cool earth and everything went dark.
			<br><BR>

	He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.		He awoke with a start. He looked around. His eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting. He was in some kind of sleeping chamber. A single candle burned in a sconce beyond, by the only door. The only furniture within was the bed he currently was occupying, a night stand, and a dresser beside the door. As if on cue, a gentle knock echoed through the small chamber. Without bothering to wait for a response, a hooded figure unlocked, then opened the door and entered. He walked forward, then stopped a few feet from the bed. Jaerith sat up slowly and looked directly at a pair of glowing red eyes beneath the hood. "Where am I?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly. He realized he was parched. The figure stood there a moment longer, then drew back the hood. Jaerith slid backwards on the bed, bunching the sheet up. Standing in front of him was an elf. Not like the elves in Malenest. Something more sinister. Something more deadly. He'd never seen a dark elf. The Shaman had told him stories af their presense beneath Vile Ruin, though Jaerith had never ventured close to that abomination of nature. The drow stood silently, his glowing red eyes resting firmly on Jaerith. his lips moved silently, and jaerith's vision blurred and all went black.
			<br>
	Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft blue light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin. The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more.Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.		Again he awoke. Dreams had plagued him. Some good, some nightmarish. It took far less time for his mind to put together the pieces of his situation. The room was dark this time, the nub of candle by the door had burned out. He sat up in the bed, now soaked with his own sweat. The malevolent presense was around him, again. He could sense the malice, the hatred, the anger. He stood up from the bed and pulled the robe he'd been clothed in tighter around his body. "Who is here?" he questioned, though it was barely a whisper. As if to answer, a soft blue light materialized a few feet in front of him. It hung there for almost a minute, then pulsed. The shimmer sent a wave of pain through Jaerith's mind. <i>You are safe here. Mend, young one, and we shall discuss your future service to House Veldrin.</i> The light sped forward and collided with Jaerith's forehead, exploding in a brilliant flash. The room grew dark once more.Jaerith stood there for several minutes, trying to focus. He found himself unable to retain the slightest thought without that seering pain pulsing through his head. he glanced back toward the bed and saw a pitcher of water, and a cup on the nightstand. Giving in to his basic needs, Jaerith drank deeply from the pitcher and collapsed upon the bed, and into unconcious oblivion.
			<br>
	Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own.		Not much more is known about the next fifty years. His services within House Veldrin where trecherous, deceitful and often too terrible to speak of. He was a whisper in the night. A passing murmer of those around camp fires and within taverns. Death followed in his wake. He had become far more than The Shaman had ever wished. More than he could ever dream of on his own.
	It was during the last days of House Veldrin, just before the disappearance of their God, Vorax, that the Jaerith that was, came back to conciousness. He was standing in an Entryway to a dark Cathedral. Chanting encompassed everything within, droning out any other sounds. Jaerith blinked as he stared beyond at the circle of what he took to be monks. After a brief moment of reverie, he looked down at himself. Dark leathers covered him from his feet to his neck. Two finely crafted maces hung securely on his studded belt. He was bewildered. The last concious thought he could remember was waking up in a small bed chamber and being extremely thirsty. He felt a pulse of pain run through his body and a brilliant blue light flared between his eyes.		<br> It was during the last days of House Veldrin, just before the disappearance of their God, Vorax, that the Jaerith that was, came back to conciousness. He was standing in an Entryway to a dark Cathedral. Chanting encompassed everything within, droning out any other sounds. Jaerith blinked as he stared beyond at the circle of what he took to be monks. After a brief moment of reverie, he looked down at himself. Dark leathers covered him from his feet to his neck. Two finely crafted maces hung securely on his studded belt. He was bewildered. The last concious thought he could remember was waking up in a small bed chamber and being extremely thirsty. He felt a pulse of pain run through his body and a brilliant blue light flared between his eyes.
	I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.		<br> <i>I'm granting you freedom, Child. You have served deliciously well. More than I could have ever hoped. I feel that I owe you a parting gift. Your service will be remembered, young one.</i>
	A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious.		<br> A flash of dark green light enveloped Jaerith and he felt his very body being torn and ripped, the pain was enough to send most into unconciousness. Unfortunately, the malevolence made certain he felt every moment of tortuous agony. Every second of delicious pain. Finally after what seemed an eternity of insanity, Jaerith was allowed to fall unconcious.
	The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.		<br> The change, as he later referred to it, left him staring at a face that wasn't his. Left him staring at slightly pointed ears, ebony hued skin, and two mismatched blue and brown eyes. A small gem was embedded into the flesh on his forehead, No one but jaerith knows it's purpose. His inability to draw upon those powers that had once been at his beck and call left him bareft. The Malevolence had ripped the part of his soul that had allowed that communion from him. The following years are lost, as was he, in time. Travelling the world, alone, his place in the world seemed as confused and lost as he felt.
	<BR>		<BR>