Skydd

Mundane Name: Eric
Fighting Since: April 2002
Realm: Dunharrow
Knighted by: Sir Pickles of Dunharrow at Spring War 2013

Events Attended

Spring War - 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015

Melcaorme - 2014

Armageddon - 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2016

Kill, Grill, and Chill - 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016

Equinox - 2009

Octoberfest - 2006, 2008, 2009, 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016

Too many Single-Day Events to count.

LORE

It wasn't easy, hiding all these years. I didn't ask for it, and yet, it's become such a part of me that i can't imagine my life any other way now. But perhaps, I should start at the beginning.

My combative career started back in the spring of 2002. My friends from school had been drafted into the armed forces, and were anxious for any to join them. At the time, I knew nothing of the wars to come, so I happily joined up, seeing it as an opportunity to escape everyday life. Almost immediately, I caught the attention of those who would become my first teachers, Sir Murdock, and Lord Remus of the House of Dregoth. I learned much from their teachings, yet when they offered me inclusion in their armies, I was compelled to refuse by my friends, who had joined the soon to be named Derilith Brigade.

It was after several years of training that the Derilith Brigade first approached their first real contest, the marshy field of the 2006 Spring War. With only three men to our banner, we still joined the contest against the emerging Iron Crown. After two days of battle, only one of our number had fallen, never to return to the field.

As the year progressed, our numbers grew slowly, yet consistently. Yet as the end of 2006 neared, a new foe emerged, and caused decimation amongst the ranks of the Derilith Brigade. By the time of the thaw of 2007, only a scant few were left standing after the ravages of the Warriors of Azeroth had claimed their souls. I was not among those who were able to resist, I'm sad to say, but I am the only one who recovered and returned whole. Yet what was there to return to? Our flag was no longer being carried into battle. Those who had resisted the call of Azeroth had collected what men they could, and created a new standard to fight for, the Jester's Court. So, thus it was, that I found myself as a mercenary.

As I began to search for a new place to call home, I was intrigued by several of the larger armies, most notably the Clan of the Hydra, whom I actually approached about membership. However it wasn't to be, their style of combat didn't match my skill set. The search fell to the wayside in the autumn of 2008 when I was approached by Sir Pickles of Dunharrow, who had seen my progression over the years, and had offered me a position as his Squire. A chance which I leapt at wholeheartedly.

For four years I was under his instruction; learning skills both on the field, and off. During this time, I devoted myself to the growth and proliferation of the realm of Dunharrow, and in those years, we had growth and prosperity. Finally, in April of 2013, I was Knighted as Sir Skydd of Dunharrow, Defender of the Western Keep.

During my time as a Squire, I put my search for a new Unit on hold. Yet, with my Knighthood attained, I once again began to search. After doing some reconnaissance on several of the Units in the sport, I came to the undeniable conclusion that the Brotherhood of the Falcon was the only viable option for me. And after a brief conference with their leadership, I was welcomed under their banner as a Pledge, or initiate, of their group.

It was at this point, where things began to get odd. At the battle of Armageddon 2014, I was injured in battle. When I came to, there were three Goblyns standing over me, discussing how best to eat me. I scrambled away before they could fulfill that plan, yet it wasn't long before I began seeking them out. Something about them... triggered something in me. As if part of myself had just woken up. At Oktoberfest that year (the same event I was fully initiated into the Brotherhood), I once again found myself seeking out the monster camps. They were conducting some ritual. There were two goblyns standing around a fire, pacing back and forth, telling stories. The stories of the Goblyn people. I don't know what was at work, but I felt an energy in the air. A witchcraft I had never felt, it was old, primal majikz. The part of myself I had felt awaken at Armageddon, was again wide awake inside of me, drinking in stories I felt I had heard a thousand times before. I found myself drawing closer and closer to the fire, and was shocked to discover that none of the monsters seemed to notice a Human in their midst. It was as if I were one of them....

That's how it began. I don't know the details of it, you'd have to ask the Witchdoktors of the HoRdE, if you could get close enough without being eaten. But I stand before this record, as what they have described as a 'Kiwi'. That is to say, I am green on the inside, which they seem to think is a vast compliment. I feel the same, yet I have this drive toward chaos that i had not felt before. The feeling akin to Schadenfreude, but towards everyone. As of yet, I fear there is no cure...