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Haruchai
As you wish.
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2011
- Location
- United States (CST)
Viktor was none too pleased. He'd been leading this elite ex-military unit for some time now. They'd all served in the Legions of the Grey Citadel, in Dun Eamon, just south of the Eamonvale. His years there had been difficult, but rewarding in their own way.
He'd grown up in The Fang Lands, in the eastern reaches of Telduria. His people were born of the wolf, shifters by blood, and nomadic by nature. They were a peaceful people by and large, though of course they had their own conflicts. They had befriended the elves of Telduria, being close to nature as they were, and not nearly as destructive as their purely human counterparts.
He'd grown up with his gifts, able to take the full form of a wolf, and later, a hybridized form that was wolfen but walked upright on two legs. His purity of bloodline was shown in his hair; a short outcropping of platinum locks atop his head as a human, and a glossy white coat in his wolf forms. He'd learned control at an early age, not only from his parents, but from the elves they had befriended. Just as his people often took wolf forms, so too did many of the elves shift into various animal forms. In this way Viktor learned control, not only of his shifting, but of his heightened senses.
It was these gifts that made him a superlative warrior, and unfortunately when the armies of men came calling, his people had to answer the call lest they be eradicated off the face of Telduria. They had not the numbers to fight, and so Viktor had been "recruited" by the armies of men, and set within the Grey Citadel. It was there that he learned to fight, and the arts of swordsmanship. His heightened strength, speed, agility and senses served him well, and he rose quickly through the ranks. Serving his time, he was able to retire after his mandatory service and now has reached his thirty-second winter.
After the military service he'd put together a small group of highly trusted group of soldiers he'd served with, selling their swords and doing the work of those they trusted to keep Telduria safe. Viktor had gone back to try and see his kin, but their nomadic ways made it hard to find them. Still, his time as a sellsword had taken him to Urland, the Land of the Dragon Princes. There he had been gifted with a chest of Wyrmiam Steel, and Viktor had had that made into armor for himself, and crested with the wolf his family represented.
Now he had been given another objective. Deep in the Crucible Lands, in the Crucible itself, there had been stirrings. The Ruins of Ool, the city that had once stood in a lush verdant forest, now resided in a blasted and acrid wasteland. Long before Viktor had been born, there had been a long war. Wizards in the city of Ool had sought power, power from another place. This place had been another dimension, inhabited by the most vile and evil of beings. The wizards soon discovered that they could not control this power and the arcane backlash reduced them to naught but cinders. The armies of Telduria banded together to push back the threat that began to make its way into the world, but in doing so the lands were reduced to ruin.
Now, around the perimeter of the Crucible Lands, monasteries hold highly magicked jewels, each a lock and key to the gate that leads to this other dimension. The monks that inhabit these monasteries send missives twice a week to various outposts in Telduria. These missives have now stopped, and Viktor and his small band have been tasked to travel to the Crucible Lands and investigate.
---------------
It had not taken long for Viktor to gather his people. They had not appreciated having their rest interrupted, but they'd been off for several days now and a few were getting a bit restless.
"Let's go!" Viktor called, and by now he'd gathered up his gear and his horse, Chaos. The steed had served him faithfully, was trained in the arts of war, and was able to run even over water. He had been a parting gift from Viktor's former Commander.
Soon Viktor and his band were headed north from the Grey Citadel toward the Crucible Lands.
He'd grown up in The Fang Lands, in the eastern reaches of Telduria. His people were born of the wolf, shifters by blood, and nomadic by nature. They were a peaceful people by and large, though of course they had their own conflicts. They had befriended the elves of Telduria, being close to nature as they were, and not nearly as destructive as their purely human counterparts.
He'd grown up with his gifts, able to take the full form of a wolf, and later, a hybridized form that was wolfen but walked upright on two legs. His purity of bloodline was shown in his hair; a short outcropping of platinum locks atop his head as a human, and a glossy white coat in his wolf forms. He'd learned control at an early age, not only from his parents, but from the elves they had befriended. Just as his people often took wolf forms, so too did many of the elves shift into various animal forms. In this way Viktor learned control, not only of his shifting, but of his heightened senses.
It was these gifts that made him a superlative warrior, and unfortunately when the armies of men came calling, his people had to answer the call lest they be eradicated off the face of Telduria. They had not the numbers to fight, and so Viktor had been "recruited" by the armies of men, and set within the Grey Citadel. It was there that he learned to fight, and the arts of swordsmanship. His heightened strength, speed, agility and senses served him well, and he rose quickly through the ranks. Serving his time, he was able to retire after his mandatory service and now has reached his thirty-second winter.
After the military service he'd put together a small group of highly trusted group of soldiers he'd served with, selling their swords and doing the work of those they trusted to keep Telduria safe. Viktor had gone back to try and see his kin, but their nomadic ways made it hard to find them. Still, his time as a sellsword had taken him to Urland, the Land of the Dragon Princes. There he had been gifted with a chest of Wyrmiam Steel, and Viktor had had that made into armor for himself, and crested with the wolf his family represented.
Now he had been given another objective. Deep in the Crucible Lands, in the Crucible itself, there had been stirrings. The Ruins of Ool, the city that had once stood in a lush verdant forest, now resided in a blasted and acrid wasteland. Long before Viktor had been born, there had been a long war. Wizards in the city of Ool had sought power, power from another place. This place had been another dimension, inhabited by the most vile and evil of beings. The wizards soon discovered that they could not control this power and the arcane backlash reduced them to naught but cinders. The armies of Telduria banded together to push back the threat that began to make its way into the world, but in doing so the lands were reduced to ruin.
Now, around the perimeter of the Crucible Lands, monasteries hold highly magicked jewels, each a lock and key to the gate that leads to this other dimension. The monks that inhabit these monasteries send missives twice a week to various outposts in Telduria. These missives have now stopped, and Viktor and his small band have been tasked to travel to the Crucible Lands and investigate.
---------------
It had not taken long for Viktor to gather his people. They had not appreciated having their rest interrupted, but they'd been off for several days now and a few were getting a bit restless.
"Let's go!" Viktor called, and by now he'd gathered up his gear and his horse, Chaos. The steed had served him faithfully, was trained in the arts of war, and was able to run even over water. He had been a parting gift from Viktor's former Commander.
Soon Viktor and his band were headed north from the Grey Citadel toward the Crucible Lands.