Post/Author/DateTime	Post
loaba 01-30-06, 12:12 AM	This is the backstory for my light fighter, Phineas. In an effort to figure out what some of his motivations are I felt it would be good to know something about his parents. What started out as a 3-hour cruise, so to speak, just morphed into a really long story. So, just how over the top is this? - Stranger in a Strange Land- Phinbar Phingolson was a brute of a man. He was a man of the North, he was strong and a veritable giant standing over 6” tall. And he had a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. His men loved him, his clan honored him, and his enemies would come to fear him. He came from a line of hearty men, all gifted with long life and glad health, and it was not uncommon for such men to live well into their seventies, all the while remaining vital and hale. Phinbar had grown up in the northern Highlands of Ardor but he was sent away to the south when he was older. In an effort to bring together the peoples of the North with those of the South, Phinbar was sent to the town of Whitehall, while a Southern boy took his place in the ancient village of Glen Cross. Whitehall lay at the foot of the Northern Highlands, in a protected river-valley on the shores of the swift moving Whiterock River. To the northeast lay the Great Wood and the In-Wood road. There was also the Royal Way, the great South road. It wound its way down south for many leagues until it reached the ancient lawns of King’s Home. Whitehall then was an important meeting place and a hub of commerce in central Ardor. It was here that Phinbar would begin his training at the Academy of Whitehall, under the watchful eyes of the Monks of Whitehall Abbey. Phinbar learned many things from the Monks. He learned the arts of campaign warfare, studied in language and the movement of the stars and heavens. He studied in the ways of the South and the value of diplomacy. He learned the value of men who fought with you, not for you. This last bit was a fine distinction that some men never do learn, but northern clansman took it to heart. That was something that came easily for Phinbar, the respect of fighting men. It became more and more clear to the Monks of Whitehall Abbey, that with the right polishing, this barbarian could be quite an aid to the Crown. He could become a great leader of men, a kind of cultural unifier. -Phinbar Phingolson and Alleria of the Wood- It was during this time that Phinbar met the Elven Ambassador Gerlad, and the Elves of his entourage. Gerlad had been sent to Whitehall as an envoy of the Elves of the Great Wood, and as such, was in constant council with Abbot Marcellus, head of the Monks of Whitehall Abbey. So it happened, quite by accident really, that Phinbar would make the acquaintance of Alleria of the Wood, and he was taken with her completely. This fair maid of the First people stole his heart, though she could not have even known it at the time. Phinbar had been unlucky and drawn duty as a uniformed butler for upcoming event at the monastery. He and several other students were to act as stewards at the party, trundling back and forth to the kitchen with plates full of food and beverages. It was underlings work as far as Phinbar was concerned, certainly not what he had bargained for though he did not complain. While the other students were released for a night drinking in Whitehall’s best taverns, he was stuck playing indentured servant for these infernal Monks. To describe Phinbar as unhappy would be kind. It was in this capacity then, as a serving lad, that Alleria first set eyes on Phinbar, and quite frankly she may not have thought much of the northern giant at first glance. Well, there was that smile, and he moved well for a big man, her younger brother Allistor certainly found him entertaining. They appeared to be trading some rather ribald jokes that involved certain of the Whitehall monks quite prominently. What trouble was Allistor causing now she thought? Then she heard the human speak, and that, in the end, may have been the key. Alleria had never heard such gentle speech from a Human, and too her surprise, he was quite clever as well. She spent the rest of evening listening to his banter with Allistor, for at that point he had forsaken his duties as a waiter altogether. Alleria learned that he was a Highlander from the North and that he was at school with the Monks. Phinbar knew he was in for it with the monks of course, but he didn’t care. This Allistor fellow had absolutely no respect for these formal galas, and Phinbar could agree with that. And then there was his sister of course, so fair and beautiful. He was more than happy to simply be in her presence, the monks be damned. Soon she joined his conversation with Allistor, and he told them both tales of the highlands and all the small doings of those in his village. Alleria listened to the respectful tone has Phinbar told them of his father, Phingol, and she couldn’t help but be interested in this man. He was captivating, so different than any man she had ever met in her long life, Human or Elven. He was passionate and earnest, and he was quite intelligent as well. He did not shy away from including her in the conversation, he encouraged her to speak, and then, again to her surprise, she saw how earnestly he listened to her own stories of her life and home. Alleria found her self drawn to Phinbar, but she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed with such a courtship. He was not Elven of course, so he knew not her ways, and she was not human, would they court the same as Elves? Silly girl, she need not have worried, Phinbar had seen the objective, and he carefully planned his assault. From that night forward he did everything in his power to learn the ways of the Elves, their customs, their values, anything at all. He combed the abby library for all references to the Elves till all hours of the night, or until the Librarian, Brother Gregory, kicked him out, which actually only happened the one time. He took every chance that presented it itself to see Alleria, and of course, he enlisted the aid of Allistor, with whom he had become good friends. Together they contrived all manner of reasons for Alleria and Phinbar to meet at seemingly random times. It was the time of his life, this wondrous pursuit of Alleria, nymph of the woods. -The Monks of Whitehall Abbey- Phinbar’s Elf-hunt did not go unnoticed by the ever watchful Monks of Whitehall Abbey, and as is their wont, they sought to take advantage of the situation. If the northern barbarian, with his golden tongue, could win the hand of Alleria, a great Elf-Human accord might be struck. Such a union might have an incredible stabilizing effect on the area. It would be a harbinger of a new era, a historic milestone. And certainly such an accord would be of huge benefit to the Crown. Whitehall’s Abbot, Brother Marcellus, made it his personal business to assure the union of Phinbar and Alleria. He started with simple things, like arranging for Phinbar to become the preferred messenger for communications between the Monastery and Gerlad. He made certain that Brother Gregory helped the lad in his studies of Elven society. When the Elves let it be known that they would like to spend a few days hunting in the wild, Marcellus made sure that the Northman went with them, naturally as part of the Whitehall security detail. He arranged for Phinbar to be free of assignments whenever there was an event or function that included the Elven Envoy and his retinue. Whether Phinbar suspected the help he was getting from the Monks or not, he ran with it. And to his great happiness, the Elf-maid did not turn him away, rather she encouraged him. - Saying Goodbye - When the Gerlad made it known that his mission to Whitehall was over, and that he would shortly be returning to the Great Wood, a grand party was planned for the send-off. Phinbar was extremely downcast for the week leading up to the party. He was certain that he would never see Alleria again. He knew the depths of his own feelings, and of course he had no doubts in regards to hers. But now she was leaving and his chance would be lost forever, his love would vanish into the woods. He was not ready to say goodbye. That night at the party, he danced with Alleria all night long and she never did leave his sight. It was there, right then, that Phinbar knew what he must do. He had to find a way to get attached to the company of Whitehall guards that would surely escort the Elves back to their settlement. They were not leaving immediately on the heels of such a fine party; there was still the ordering of baggage that would require attending. There was a myriad of minor details that would keep them in Whitehall for at least one more day. Phinbar, realizing that this was his only window of opportunity, seized the imitative and marched up to the Abbots rectory and respectfully requested an audience with Brother Marcellus. The old Abbot could not have been more pleased. He actually attempted to tell Phinbar that someone as junior as he might not be the best choice for an assignment such as this. Marcellus indicated that there were others of more experience who would be much better selections. In the end though, he allowed himself to be persuaded to let Phinbar join the Whitehall Guard contingent. This was more than he had hoped for. While Marcellus knew that both Alleria and Phinbar were predisposed to a match and that they had shared private times together, Phinbar’s resolve and commitment was a positive sign that he would be able to consummate the union. Marcellus now had great faith that an Accord between Elves and Men was definite possibility, of course despite his confidence in Phinbar, Marcellus made sure that Brother Gregory was going on the journey as well. You don’t get to be an Abbot without learning to hedge your bets. -Of Barbarians and Elves- “You want to do what”? Alleria’s Father, the esteemed Lord Allerand was not exactly sure how to take this mans request. Did this Highlander from the Barbarian north really just ask for his only daughters hand in marriage? And why was that imp Allistor over there laughing? Still, Allerand couldn’t help but note that this was one of the more eloquent humans he had ever spoken with. But really, why would he even think he was a suitable match for Alleria? This was not the exact response Phinbar had been expecting, but still he forged ahead. He had rehearsed this conversation incessantly throughout the trip to Galidon, the chief Elven city in the Great wood, and he would not be denied. On he went “Lord Allerand, I have had the blessing and the honor to see the most beautiful jewel in all the land, and her name is Alleria”. Of course there was more, but it is of little import, Phinbar stated his case and made it known that his intentions were honorable. “I am Phinbar, son of Phingol, of the Northern Clans, I will of course abide by your decision in this matter Lord, though if your answer be no, I will strive to do all that is required to change that”. Allerand was shocked and impressed and pleased, all at the same time. Here was a man who, in that inimitable style that was so typical of humans, stated his objective and made his intentions clear. Truly this Phinbar’s flame was burning bright, but how long would it last? That was the real crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Did he not realize that Alleria would outlive him? What pain would his eventual mortality cause for her? Was his love that deep and lasting? Despite his first reactions, Allerand couldn’t help but like this man, there was something regal about him, maybe it was his commanding presence? Truly, there was an air about him, this man, this Phinbar of the North. And so Allerand made his choice, that Phinbar of the House of Phingol, would take the hand of Alleria, his only daughter, in marriage. From the shadows, where he had been quietly observing everything, Brother Gregory nearly wet himself. This was exactly what the order had hoped for. -The Elven Accord- The marriage of Phinbar and Alleria did in fact bring about a lasting peace between Men and Elves in the region, just as the Monks of Whitehall had hoped. It was called the Elven Accord and of course it couldn’t help but bring Phinbar to prominence. He was Knighted by the Kings own son, and while this station meant little to the people of the Northern clans, Phinbar knew how vitally important it was to his people. For the first time in over a hundred years, his people, and their Southern cousins were of one mind, under one united rule. And then, there were the Elves, and the peace with their kind. The In-Wood road was open once again! These were great times for a man to live in, and Phinbar had every intention to be a man of the times. Phinbar and Alleria now spent time in two places. They would winter with the Elves in the great wood, and they would spend the summer months in the Highlands with the Northern clans. Phinbar of course spent many months away from his love; he was the King’s man now as well, and his duties took him back and forth between Galidon and King’s Home, or to Whitehall, or to Glen Cross in the North. To say Phinbar was busy would be an understatement. But nevertheless, he had time for Alleria, and he made the most of it when he could. -The Black Menace or Nations Unite- The Accord could not have come at a better time. Evil was afoot in the form a great warrior who united a dark force of men and orcs. The Black Knight of Wilderland marshaled his legions of evil and marched upon the land. Gilgameth was his name, and he brought with him death and destruction and all was ablaze with flame. As news of Gilgameth’s unholy success spread across the land, more and more evil creatures flocked to his banner. Gilgameth was unstoppable it seemed, his campaign of terror never-ending. In answer to this new menace, an Alliance was formed; the races of elves, hobbits, dwarves, gnomes, and humans joined forces and gave battle to the dark scourge. Together, the Alliance drove back Gilgameth and his armies were crushed and scattered. During these dark times Phinbar led a company of Northern Clansman, and his Brother-In-Law Allistor accompanied him with a unit of Elven swordsman. The two kindred’s wreaked havoc among the forces of Gilgameth and won great renown for themselves. Captains Phinbar and Allistor practically became household names as a result of their daring actions. Of course these two, and their men, were not the only heroes of the war. Tales of other, unlikely, heroes emerged as well, and one such tale spoke of a pair of hobbits who were given the rare Elvish Medal of Honor, by none other than Lord Allerand himself. In the end, the Alliance held, and the long-looked for Accord of Men and Elves was a success. Truly, the peace that the Monks of Whitehall had looked for was a reality. Through trial of arms, good had persevered and evil was vanquished, if only for a little while. Brother Marcellus sat back in his chair content at a job well done. -Honor Stained- At long last, Phinbar was given leave to take a long and much deserved rest. At the Kings behest a squad of twenty-four honorable men escorted the Lord Phinbar to Galidon. A great banquette was planned in honor of the newly returned Phinbar and Allistor and of course the escorts were invited to attend as well. The evening’s celebration was a wonder to these men of Whitehall, none of whom had ever spent so much time amongst the folk of the wood. The Elves put on quite a show for the men of Whitehall and Alleria danced away the night with her own Captain Phinbar. In the morning, after the gala, the escorts led by Lieutenant Grambling bid a fond farewell to the folk of Galidon and turned their horses back to Whitehall. As Lt. Grambling and his men made there way through the forest they marveled at the beauty and grandeur of the wood. However, without Phinbar to guide them they soon became lost strayed from the path. As the sun waned it happened that they did find a trail that seemed passable. It was a track that appeared to be little used but it seemed be lead in the direction they wanted to go. By this time the men were eager to get home and so they road the trail by the clear moonlight. As the gray morning dawned the men found that they come upon a sleepy elven village hidden deep in the wood. This village was unlike any other they had seen before. It consisted of mostly women and children, there seemed to be no other elves about. These folk were obviously different from the Elves of Galidon, and unlike their tree-dwelling cousins, these Elves skin was a silvery grey, their hair was black jet and they had eyes of bright violet. The village opened its arms to Lt. Grambling’s company and gave them food and lodging. After the men had been in the village for several days an evil thing happened. The noble men of Whitehall turned on their hosts and delivered upon them cruelty and death. It is not known what truly occurred, these were honorable men, but some evil must have befallen them while they stayed in the village. Maybe it started with overly flirtatious maids; perhaps too much elvin wine and hobbit brandy were to blame. Regardless, the little village was sacked, the women were raped and left for dead, the children were killed and left unburied where they lay. -Justice Served- Word reached Galidon weeks after the slaughter. Phinbar was stunned, Allerand was enraged. Phinbar couldn’t help but think that all was lost. The Elves would be hard-pressed to forgive this transgression, if ever they could. Phinbar knew that the Gray Elves would only be satisfied when Whitehall ran red with blood. After several months of warfare with these Grey Elves, Brother Marcellus tried in vain to convince the King that the transgressors would have to be punished. The peace, if it were ever to be restored would depend on just punishment for those who had destroyed the village. Meanwhile, the bodies stacked up, the Elves were merciless in their rage. Finally, the King acquiesced, and agreed to a trial. Brother Marcellus prayed that they were not too late, that this would assuage the anger of the Elves. The inquest was held in Whitehall with the King himself in attendance. Both the High elves and the Grey elves sent representatives. Phinbar too came and with him Allistor. At the end of the ten day trial, all those who been in the escort party were found guilty of war crimes and the sentencing was quite severe. The foot-men were each flogged and assigned sixty days of sewage duty with the forfeiture of pay. The officers of non noble descent were demoted to sergeant and forfeiture of two months pay. Officers of noble descent were fined half of their family’s holdings and these lands were given over to the King. Lt. Grambling, as the commanding office was sentenced to death for failure to control his command. This satisfied the Elvin council, except for one nation, the grey elves would accept no peace. They backed their people into seclusion in the deepest part of the Great Wood. They vowed to kill any human who trespassed into their lands on sight. Allerand and the other elves of the council accepted this, as did the King. Brother Marcellus merely shook his head, what more could they have wanted? -Phineas Phinbarson- After the trial in Whitehall, Phinbar and Alleria journeyed to Glen Cross as was their custom. Phinbar was anxious to get back to his ancestral home, to leave the fighting behind. Alleria, for her part, always enjoyed her time in the Highlands. In the late summer, just before they would leave for the Great Wood, Phinbar and Alleria were blessed with a child, a boy with a shock of red hair and Elven eyes of green. They named the lad Phineas, in accordance with the customs of the Northern Clans. Phinbar was beside himself with joy, for the lad was healthy and strong. Alleria was thrilled as well, young Phineas had the eyes of the First People and they were active and searching. When they brought the child before Phingol, the old man beheld him and proclaimed “Here is my grandson and Phineas be his name, and it is a good name”. He continued, “Of this Clan he is, yet not of us he is”. Phingol stopped here, and he looked at Alleria, “Too, this child is of the people of the Wood. I know not what path he will walk. Of this I do know, his future shall not be here in the Highlands”. With that the old man sat back down upon his throne and gazed at Phineas, wrapped in a blanket of forest green. Phingol sat, and long did he gaze into the child’s bright green eyes and nothing more would he say. The room had gone quite, all sound sucked out the open windows. Phinbar was stunned, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, no words came to him, he could not answer his father nor he could not fathom the meaning of his words. Suddenly Phinbar was unsure; once again he was but a small child who had erred. This was not what he had expected, he felt confused and betrayed, and how could this be? This boy, his new-born son, was not to live here and learn the ways of the Clan? How then would he become a man? Alleria too was taken aback. She saw the look of horror in Phinbar’s eyes; felt the shock as he stood there open mouthed. She too was at a loss for words. Phingol had never seemed displeased at his son’s choice of brides; she had always felt welcome in Glen Cross. Why would he say such a thing? Of course the child was of the Wood, just as he was from the North. Yet, the way Phingol had spoken, her son would not be a Highlander like his father, he would be something, but not that. - Playing in the Woods – After Phingol’s strange speech, Phinbar and Alleria did indeed journey to Galidon. There, Phineas grew up among his mother’s people, playing in the Great Wood. Phineas grew into a strong lad, though perhaps not as tall as his father would have liked. He was quite dexterous however, and that was certainly a legacy of Alleria. As a youngster he was a natural with the Elven Short bow, and all assumed he would be a fine archer. His Uncle Allistor noted that the lad had a natural talent for spectacular displays of acrobatics and to him it was obvious that the little rogue would soon be cutting the finest of purse strings. Allistor laughed every time he pictured young Phineas as a traveling bard, the look of horror upon his father’s face. But Phineas did not want to be a bowman, and acrobatics was for others. Something pulled him towards the sword and not just any sword mind you, the Greatsword of the Northern Clans, the sword of his father’s people. All his short life, he had seen Phinbar with that big sword strapped to his back, and like any son, Phineas wanted to be just like him. Phinbar would have been happy to teach Phineas in the ways of the Greatsword, but he was too often away and could not spend as much time with Phineas as he would have liked. The Elves of course were not known for their prowess with Northern claymores, and so there was no one to teach Phineas in lieu of his father. - Choosing a Path- The Elves of the Great Wood were fine swordsmen after their own fashion and they prided themselves in the delicate footwork that was the swordsance, it was their hallmark. The Elven Sword Master, with his masterwork Long sword, is both beautiful and deadly. At first Phineas was keenly aware that these Elven Long swords were no match in size and weight for his father’s Claymore. What would her say about these light, one-handed weapons? In the end, Phineas did acquiesce and agree to take lessons in the Elven style of sword-play. But it took more then a little bit of persuading from his Mother and her brother Allistor, also a Master Swordsman, before young Phin was convinced that this was a path of which his father would have approved. With time and training, and the stern tutelage of Master Oridan, Phineas eventually came to see just how powerful and graceful and deadly the Elven style could be, and finally, he embraced the tradition as his own. It became his goal to be the greatest swordsman who ever lived. In doing so, he could honor his father’s spirit; he could be true to his father’s clan. His mother watched her son, and his progress did please her. But she was saddened as well, the boy was growing up before her very eyes, and his father was not there. - The Last Goodbye- Phinbar was spending more and more time away from is family, his work for the King demanded it. He never did speak with Alleria about returning to Glen Cross, and when he was home he seemed happy enough, but she saw the detachment in his eyes. Alleria knew that his father’s words still haunted him. Despite all that, Phinbar was genuinely pleased with his son’s ability with the sword. The lad was absolutely amazing, and what he lacked in physical strength, he more than made up for in skill. The boy could damn well put that sword point anywhere he liked. Phinbar was proud, and his love for the boy was real, Alleria knew that, but still, she knew that inside, something was wrong. Shortly after arriving home, seeing his son’s progress, a messenger arrived in Galidon. Phinbar was called away, much sooner than he had anticipated. It was with a heavy heart and hand that Phinbar gathered his gear and made ready to depart yet again. He had wanted to stay this time, unlike so many times before. He seemed to see Alleria in a new light, she was beautiful as before, he longed to stay, to be with her. He saw the look in Phineas’ eyes, the way the lad held back the tears. Phinbar wanted so badly to stay, to unsaddle his horse, and stay. Then the messenger, a young lad, and eager to be off, said “The King awaits Captain Phinbar; we should make haste and be away”. Phinbar nodded his head, looked at his family, and with one last waive of his hand, spurred his mount forward. That was the last time Phineas would ever see his father, though he did not know it. Alleria did know, she knew deep down within herself, and she forced back the tears, it would not do to alarm the boy. -The Black Years- As time went on, the years washed over Phineas, and he grew to be a man, tall for an Elf, but not quite tall enough. He grew strong, much stronger then his Elven classmates, but maybe not strong enough. He wondered about the Northern clans, about his father’s people. He often thought about why his father had never returned home. No word had ever come to the Elves, no messenger again came to Galidon, for times were dark now and the In-Wood road was closed. The Orcs from the Rocky Mountains had seen to that. The Elves were safe in the Great Wood, as they always had been, but they were surrounded and besieged. The Elves did as they always had done in times such as these, they looked to their own and guarded their home with extreme prejudice. They closed the Wood to all but those who they knew. Many Orcs were slain; many of the First People lost their lives as well. Phin’s Uncle Allistor was now often away, he was a fearsome warrior when he cared to show it and he was a valued leader. With Allistor gone and his mother withdrawn, Phineas continued his training, he was eager to join the fight, to make his father proud. All he could think about was when Phinbar would return, for surely he was only held back by the surrounding Orcs, Sometimes Phineas imagined his father returning with a legion of the King’s men. Alleria knew Phinbar would not return, that she would never see her beloved again and she withdrew from all that she once had enjoyed doing. She was not the person she had once been, she felt abandoned, even with Phineas there, she felt alone. She was lost and her heart was broken. -Orcish Raiders Then the unthinkable happened, Orcish raiders attacked Galidon. Never in a thousand years had this happened. Though a great number of Orcs were slaughtered, a few the beasts were able to make their escape. When the smoke and fire cleared, Phineas made his way home and found it in ruins, his mother gone. The Orcs had taken his father’s jewel, Alleria, like many others who shared the same fate, was an Orc captive. If not for a pair of mysterious Halflings, Phin might have been abducted as well. The two warriors had recently arrived in Galidon and had been in Warrior Barracks where Phineas and his classmates trained. They were both stout fighters and killed many Orcs. That he was not a captive himself was little solace for Phineas; the fact that he was safe meant nothing. Phineas knew full well the horrors that awaited Elves who were unlucky enough to be taken alive by Orcs. He knew his mother would resist to the last, but he knew her torment would be long. Allerand had survived of course and he sent guards to check on his daughter and his grandson, they found Phineas sitting among the wreckage, his sword unsheathed upon his lap. He silently stood and went with them to his Grandfather’s house. Allerand sent out a tracking party but they were unable to chase down the raiders. The Orcs had their prizes and they doubled-timed it out of the Great Wood. Though the Elves knew where the Orcs were going and did assault the Orc’s fortress-cave, in the end they came too late and the only thing they ever brought home were bodies, save one. No trace of Alleria was ever found. Among the dead Orcs nothing of hers was recovered. It was as though she had never existed. -Leaving Home- Phineas would never be the same after that fateful day. Despite the support he received from his Uncle Allistor and his Grandfather, he did not feel at home any longer, he felt as though he had been cast adrift. The life that he had once known was a shambles, both his parents were gone. He vowed to avenge his mother and when Master Oridan said he was ready, he want on his first patrol as a Warrior of Galidon, his Uncle Allistor at the head of the company. Phineas proved himself to be quite a fierce warrior and he killed many of the hated Orcs, but that was not enough for him, nothing sated his pain. He was forever empty inside. He fought as though he wanted to die and perhaps he did, maybe he thought that was his only way out. In the end, the Orcs retreated; they had lost their battle lust. They might have continued the fight if they had been able to duplicate their fantastic raid on Galidon, but in the end that was to be their last great push. The Elves punished the Orcs severely, and in the end they retired to the Mountain strongholds. Soon after the Orc withdrawal, Phineas made up his mind and left Galidon, his home for the last 20 years. He took with him a suit of studded leather armor and his Long sword, a parting gift from his Grandfather. His Uncle Allistor tried to come along, but Phineas refused, said simply “there is nothing her for me any longer, only memories of life that will never be again”. Looking at his Uncle, “I will return of course, if nothing else to see you and Master Oridan and of course, Grandfather”. Allistor nodded, looked at Phineas “You’re grown Phineas, and like your father, you’ll not be denied what is you want, but remember, that you always have a place here”. Phin nodded his head “I know, but there is nothing here but pain, and, there is my father as well”. Allistor looked down, back at Phineas “Lad, have you not accepted the fact that you can’t bring Phinbar back from the dead”? “He’s gone lad, and that’s the way of things, stay here, rejoin life Phineas”. Phin shook his head “I know he’s gone, but I also know there is more to it than that”. -The Ashes of Whitehall- Phin made his way to Whitehall, and there he found answers, but mostly more questions. The town was a wreck; clearly it had been sacked and plundered by marauding Orcs. The once beautiful Monastery was a smoking pile of rubble, it seemed as though only recently people had begun to start to what looked to be a lengthy rebuilding process. Looking around, he saw what clearly an army post, there he asked permission to enter, and was allowed in. The men were all wearing what looked to be the King’s colors, but on closer inspection Phin noticed they were not the same as his father had worn. Rather than a golden lion on the crest, these bore a black falcon. There seemed to be a group of 6 of them. Only two were armed, the others were loafing about, perhaps off-duty. Phin asked to speak to the commanding officer, and after a while grizzled man came out of what looked to be a new stone tower and approached him. The man looked at Phineas, marked his eyes and said “You’re one of them Elf-folk aren’t you, can see it your face”. “Strange, haven’t seen your lot in many a year, stranger still, now that it comes to it, you look familiar”. Looking him in they eye the man asked “What is your name lad”? Phineas answered, “My name is Phineas Phinbarson, and if it please you sir, I’ll have your name now”. At the sound of Phineas’ name the man seemed startled “Phinbarson did you say”? “Now I see, you’re a half-breed is what you are”. Laughing now, the man cocked his head towards the banner hanging on the tower wall, “See that lad, there’s a new King, and if I’ve marked you correctly, your dad was the dread Captain Phinbar”? “Well lad, he supported the old King, and he got what all them that did the same deserved, he got dead”. Phineas reacted with lightning reflexes; he unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion, and ran the old man through. He pushed hard as felt the elf-blade burst through the weak chain shirt, felt the point where the blade bit into the soft tissue of the gut. Phin kept pushing, right on through. Phin placed his boot on the man’s chest and kicked hard, pulled his sword free from what was quickly becoming a corpse. The old fool crumpled to the ground. Quickly, not thinking, merely going through the motions, Phin moved to the guards at the front gate. They had sounded the alarm, but they were no match for the blood-lusting half-elf, one, then two strikes, a man fell with his guts spilling onto the ground. A stroke later, and his comrades head rolled landed in the dirt, at the feet of the men who previously had been enjoying themselves with a game of cards. Phineas faced these men, sword at the ready “I’ll be taking my leave now, follow at your own risk”. With that, he mounted the nearest saddled horse, and burst out the archway and thundered down the road. -Heading West- Phineas never looked back after that, rather than return to the Great Wood, and risk bringing danger with him, he decided to head west, towards the mountains, towards a life on the road. There have been many twists and turns in his life’s journey since that time, and he hasn’t been home since, but one day, when he feels the time is right, he will come home. And, he will settle things that have needed payment for far too long.
Morka 01-31-06, 10:52 AM	I've read it diagonally, and stopped at the middle, you are truely writing a whole novel!:thumbsup: It looks good. There's a single thing that bother me: in my opinion, most elves are usually chaotic good, and the great majority of them do not take wedding for a serious thing.