Falkus
From BelegarthWiki
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| − | Falkus of Eriador | + | '''Name:''' Falkus of Eriador |
| − | |||
| − | + | '''Race:''' Human | |
| − | + | '''Realms:''' [[Tir Asleen]] | |
| − | + | '''Unit:''' None | |
| − | Events Attended | + | |
| + | '''Events Attended''' | ||
Prelude 2014 | Prelude 2014 | ||
| Line 18: | Line 18: | ||
| − | Weapons of choice: Short Spear, Bow, Sword and Board | + | '''Weapons of choice:''' Short Spear, Bow, Sword and Board |
| − | Lore: Falkus was born in a small village along the bluffs of a mighty river. He spent his youth hiking, playing with the other young of his village, and swimming in the cool waters of his home. This went on for his long and happy childhood. His town, while not large, had active, profitable docks lining its edge, and merchants stopped often on their travels. The town grew as the years went by, and peace and happiness seemed to hang over his home like a mist. Yet the same thing that brought them so much, became the undoing of Falkus and his home. It was the first new moon of spring, following several days warmed by a spring wind filled with the birds that had taken to the air, and the smell of rains that promised to bring a prosperous planting. As these signs of spring filled the land, the townsman of the City by the Bluffs eagerly awaited the ships, merchants and traders to sell all that they had crafted through the winter. The days were filled with calm, and the nights were filled with the sounds of merry making and cheer. It was a happy time. One night, in the darkness they had come. The darkness covered their movements, and history does not say what they were truly after. The store rooms of the City by the River saw treasure seldom seen outside the sight of kings and queens, the vast mountains of the Dwarves or from beneath the bellies of the oldest, most prosperous of dragons. It seldom mattered why though, because to conceal their attentions, they killed all they came across in the night, leaving a trail of bodies before the first guards stirred at their posts. When the the beasts (for man or monster, that is all they deserved to be called) broke through the gates the enter the store rooms, a the town drunk, heading back from his long night of merrymaking cried out in alarm. He was quickly cut down, but his warning stirred the Guards, and the alarm was raised. The guards rushed from their bunker, and soon after the menfolk of the town lept out of their beds to help defend their wives and property. Falkus's father soon came to join the party of fighters, the small group still standing and fighting among the wounded and dying. They readied themselves to continue the fight, bolstered by new members, but as they moved to cut down the remains of the thieves, the world exploded in fire, and death rained down upon all those outside of their beds. Barrels of gunpowder had been taken from the Amory, and then ignited to cover the beasts escape. Falkus had rushed to defend his town was in the doorway of his small home when the blast rocked him back, causing him to fall to the ground, darkness enveloping his mind.When Falkus woke, he found that the world he had come to love no more. As he had slept, enveloped by his pain, the world had burned. His childhood had collapsed around him, still smoldering in the morning light. The town square was covered in the bodies of the dead, staining the ground red with spilled blood. The docks were gone, all that as left was the charred skeleton of the boat house. The birds had fallen silent, and the spring breeze only carried the smell of smoke and death. | + | '''Lore:''' Falkus was born in a small village along the bluffs of a mighty river. He spent his youth hiking, playing with the other young of his village, and swimming in the cool waters of his home. This went on for his long and happy childhood. His town, while not large, had active, profitable docks lining its edge, and merchants stopped often on their travels. The town grew as the years went by, and peace and happiness seemed to hang over his home like a mist. Yet the same thing that brought them so much, became the undoing of Falkus and his home. It was the first new moon of spring, following several days warmed by a spring wind filled with the birds that had taken to the air, and the smell of rains that promised to bring a prosperous planting. As these signs of spring filled the land, the townsman of the City by the Bluffs eagerly awaited the ships, merchants and traders to sell all that they had crafted through the winter. The days were filled with calm, and the nights were filled with the sounds of merry making and cheer. It was a happy time. One night, in the darkness they had come. The darkness covered their movements, and history does not say what they were truly after. The store rooms of the City by the River saw treasure seldom seen outside the sight of kings and queens, the vast mountains of the Dwarves or from beneath the bellies of the oldest, most prosperous of dragons. It seldom mattered why though, because to conceal their attentions, they killed all they came across in the night, leaving a trail of bodies before the first guards stirred at their posts. When the the beasts (for man or monster, that is all they deserved to be called) broke through the gates the enter the store rooms, a the town drunk, heading back from his long night of merrymaking cried out in alarm. He was quickly cut down, but his warning stirred the Guards, and the alarm was raised. The guards rushed from their bunker, and soon after the menfolk of the town lept out of their beds to help defend their wives and property. Falkus's father soon came to join the party of fighters, the small group still standing and fighting among the wounded and dying. They readied themselves to continue the fight, bolstered by new members, but as they moved to cut down the remains of the thieves, the world exploded in fire, and death rained down upon all those outside of their beds. Barrels of gunpowder had been taken from the Amory, and then ignited to cover the beasts escape. Falkus had rushed to defend his town was in the doorway of his small home when the blast rocked him back, causing him to fall to the ground, darkness enveloping his mind.When Falkus woke, he found that the world he had come to love no more. As he had slept, enveloped by his pain, the world had burned. His childhood had collapsed around him, still smoldering in the morning light. The town square was covered in the bodies of the dead, staining the ground red with spilled blood. The docks were gone, all that as left was the charred skeleton of the boat house. The birds had fallen silent, and the spring breeze only carried the smell of smoke and death. |
Revision as of 15:29, 11 March 2015
Name: Falkus of Eriador
Race: Human
Realms: Tir Asleen
Unit: None
Events Attended
Prelude 2014
Oktoberfest 2014
Eriador Halloween 2014
Weapons of choice: Short Spear, Bow, Sword and Board
Lore: Falkus was born in a small village along the bluffs of a mighty river. He spent his youth hiking, playing with the other young of his village, and swimming in the cool waters of his home. This went on for his long and happy childhood. His town, while not large, had active, profitable docks lining its edge, and merchants stopped often on their travels. The town grew as the years went by, and peace and happiness seemed to hang over his home like a mist. Yet the same thing that brought them so much, became the undoing of Falkus and his home. It was the first new moon of spring, following several days warmed by a spring wind filled with the birds that had taken to the air, and the smell of rains that promised to bring a prosperous planting. As these signs of spring filled the land, the townsman of the City by the Bluffs eagerly awaited the ships, merchants and traders to sell all that they had crafted through the winter. The days were filled with calm, and the nights were filled with the sounds of merry making and cheer. It was a happy time. One night, in the darkness they had come. The darkness covered their movements, and history does not say what they were truly after. The store rooms of the City by the River saw treasure seldom seen outside the sight of kings and queens, the vast mountains of the Dwarves or from beneath the bellies of the oldest, most prosperous of dragons. It seldom mattered why though, because to conceal their attentions, they killed all they came across in the night, leaving a trail of bodies before the first guards stirred at their posts. When the the beasts (for man or monster, that is all they deserved to be called) broke through the gates the enter the store rooms, a the town drunk, heading back from his long night of merrymaking cried out in alarm. He was quickly cut down, but his warning stirred the Guards, and the alarm was raised. The guards rushed from their bunker, and soon after the menfolk of the town lept out of their beds to help defend their wives and property. Falkus's father soon came to join the party of fighters, the small group still standing and fighting among the wounded and dying. They readied themselves to continue the fight, bolstered by new members, but as they moved to cut down the remains of the thieves, the world exploded in fire, and death rained down upon all those outside of their beds. Barrels of gunpowder had been taken from the Amory, and then ignited to cover the beasts escape. Falkus had rushed to defend his town was in the doorway of his small home when the blast rocked him back, causing him to fall to the ground, darkness enveloping his mind.When Falkus woke, he found that the world he had come to love no more. As he had slept, enveloped by his pain, the world had burned. His childhood had collapsed around him, still smoldering in the morning light. The town square was covered in the bodies of the dead, staining the ground red with spilled blood. The docks were gone, all that as left was the charred skeleton of the boat house. The birds had fallen silent, and the spring breeze only carried the smell of smoke and death.
