Post by GrazztsCodPiece on Sept 23, 2012 21:54:20 GMT -5
At the age where most elves are experiencing nothing but the joys of childhood and the comfort of their hearth-home Nim was witness his sister's brutalization at the hands of Sembian mercenaries.
Nim's tale begins a score winters before his arrival to Greatgaunt. On the first day of Flamerule those many years ago, Nim and his sister, Areanna the Runner, walked the sorrounding woods of Cormathor while warding the lands of their clanspeople. Whether fate or ill-luck, they were set upon by greedy Sembians who had been looting the graves of old. In a rage, and swearing vengeance, his sister and Nim fought the mercenaries; they were easily captured by the many battle-hardened men. Nim, being male and of little interest to them, was beaten severely and tortured for their entertainment for three long days. At night, he would lie next to his sister and watch as the spark of life left her eyes. On the third day he and his sister were left for dead - the Sembians had their fill and decided not to press their chances. They joked and jeered as they stalked off to their homes, slapping each others shoulders - congratulating themselves for a fine hunt, indeed. Nim made note of their faces, their voices... he would never forget.
On the fourth day his kin found him and Areanna. Sadly, she was beyond the aid of the living - her spark had been extinguished; a blessing perhaps. Trackers were sent out immediately to hunt down the Sembians but they were long gone and beyond the reach of the forest... Vengeance would have to wait. Nim's kin brought him back and nursed him to health; however, the damage was permanent, both mentally and physically. Nim was never the same.
Two years passed and he grew strong and wise to the ways of the land - some said that he was driven by some insatiable thing within his heart. He was feral - unforgiving at times and yet he was eventually accepted as one of the Watchers - the warriors who guarded the forest and his homelands against foreign incursions. As the time passed his hatred festered like an untreated wound - he wanted vengeance at all costs and went out of his way to extend patrols out beyond the reach of his clan. He prayed day and night to Fenmarael, begging for a chance to redeem the stain in his heart and bring peace to his sister’s spirit. The Lone Wolf listened.
On a rainy autumn day, while watching a hunting trail often used by poachers with a another Watcher, Nim heard them. They were loud, boorish, and killing on a whim - they were Sembian nobles, but more importantly, one of the men there was one of the men responsible for his sister's death. His heart beat with fury at their sight, at last the chance to enact vengeance and quench the pain in his heart was before him, but true to his word as a Watcher he tried to warn them off - send them from his homeland. Anger beating in his temple, he appeared from a distance and asked that they leave - they laughed and jeered, the stench of liquor heavy on their bodies and breath even from twenty paces away. The drunk hunters, in a flurry of motion, drew bows and loosened arrows. As if by a cruel twist of fate, an arrow struck the neck of the second Watcher. Nim heard nothing but their laughter and the dying gasps of his friend - it was happening again. With an anguished howl he drew his bow and shot - the arrow found its mark in the chest of a young noble.
The noble's dying screams covered the noise of Nim's swift use of his bow - another arrow, another screaming man. He tried to find the one mercenary, but in the end, he simply settled on loosing his arrows on all of them - they were all guilty after all. The Sembians, shaken out of their stupor by the sight of blood amongst them, gave chase. However, their actions were too slow, like a ghost Nim was gone. He fled, he ran, he cried - the face of the mercenary in his mind as he made his way back to his kin; he had failed. After what seemed an eternity he reached the tribal holding of his kin and told them of events of that day. His actions were deemed necessary, but due to the nature of his sister's fate and his mental state, severely questioned.
A tenday passed and a delegation of Sembians approached the same game trail where the incident occured - they asked for the head of the one who shot the son of a local land-owning Baron. Nim's kin were anguished but knew that to hold him would spell the doom for both their forest and the rest of the kinsmen. It was not this that eventually drove them to their act, but careful consideration of Nim's deep hatred for humanity and Sembians. They agreed to the terms - an eye for an eye. The elves turned Nim over to the Sembians, knowing in their hearts that doing so spelled his doom. As the delegation left, Nim in chains, they were ambushed by unseen attackers. "Orcs!" shouted the Sembians as crude arrows and loud orcish war-cries filled the air expertly cutting the majority of them down - Nim took this opportunity and fled. Like a deer chased by hunter Nim ran, he ran for a day and a night - fleeing for his life.
Unbeknownst to him, the actions of that day were those of his blood- kin. Deception drove their acts to make the Sembians think that orcs were responsible for the ambush - it worked, but at the cost of Nim's banishment. Years have passed and Nim's bestial nature has taken over - a necessary survival adjustment. And yet, even though the haze of the beast he remembers - he hunts.
Nim's tale begins a score winters before his arrival to Greatgaunt. On the first day of Flamerule those many years ago, Nim and his sister, Areanna the Runner, walked the sorrounding woods of Cormathor while warding the lands of their clanspeople. Whether fate or ill-luck, they were set upon by greedy Sembians who had been looting the graves of old. In a rage, and swearing vengeance, his sister and Nim fought the mercenaries; they were easily captured by the many battle-hardened men. Nim, being male and of little interest to them, was beaten severely and tortured for their entertainment for three long days. At night, he would lie next to his sister and watch as the spark of life left her eyes. On the third day he and his sister were left for dead - the Sembians had their fill and decided not to press their chances. They joked and jeered as they stalked off to their homes, slapping each others shoulders - congratulating themselves for a fine hunt, indeed. Nim made note of their faces, their voices... he would never forget.
On the fourth day his kin found him and Areanna. Sadly, she was beyond the aid of the living - her spark had been extinguished; a blessing perhaps. Trackers were sent out immediately to hunt down the Sembians but they were long gone and beyond the reach of the forest... Vengeance would have to wait. Nim's kin brought him back and nursed him to health; however, the damage was permanent, both mentally and physically. Nim was never the same.
Two years passed and he grew strong and wise to the ways of the land - some said that he was driven by some insatiable thing within his heart. He was feral - unforgiving at times and yet he was eventually accepted as one of the Watchers - the warriors who guarded the forest and his homelands against foreign incursions. As the time passed his hatred festered like an untreated wound - he wanted vengeance at all costs and went out of his way to extend patrols out beyond the reach of his clan. He prayed day and night to Fenmarael, begging for a chance to redeem the stain in his heart and bring peace to his sister’s spirit. The Lone Wolf listened.
On a rainy autumn day, while watching a hunting trail often used by poachers with a another Watcher, Nim heard them. They were loud, boorish, and killing on a whim - they were Sembian nobles, but more importantly, one of the men there was one of the men responsible for his sister's death. His heart beat with fury at their sight, at last the chance to enact vengeance and quench the pain in his heart was before him, but true to his word as a Watcher he tried to warn them off - send them from his homeland. Anger beating in his temple, he appeared from a distance and asked that they leave - they laughed and jeered, the stench of liquor heavy on their bodies and breath even from twenty paces away. The drunk hunters, in a flurry of motion, drew bows and loosened arrows. As if by a cruel twist of fate, an arrow struck the neck of the second Watcher. Nim heard nothing but their laughter and the dying gasps of his friend - it was happening again. With an anguished howl he drew his bow and shot - the arrow found its mark in the chest of a young noble.
The noble's dying screams covered the noise of Nim's swift use of his bow - another arrow, another screaming man. He tried to find the one mercenary, but in the end, he simply settled on loosing his arrows on all of them - they were all guilty after all. The Sembians, shaken out of their stupor by the sight of blood amongst them, gave chase. However, their actions were too slow, like a ghost Nim was gone. He fled, he ran, he cried - the face of the mercenary in his mind as he made his way back to his kin; he had failed. After what seemed an eternity he reached the tribal holding of his kin and told them of events of that day. His actions were deemed necessary, but due to the nature of his sister's fate and his mental state, severely questioned.
A tenday passed and a delegation of Sembians approached the same game trail where the incident occured - they asked for the head of the one who shot the son of a local land-owning Baron. Nim's kin were anguished but knew that to hold him would spell the doom for both their forest and the rest of the kinsmen. It was not this that eventually drove them to their act, but careful consideration of Nim's deep hatred for humanity and Sembians. They agreed to the terms - an eye for an eye. The elves turned Nim over to the Sembians, knowing in their hearts that doing so spelled his doom. As the delegation left, Nim in chains, they were ambushed by unseen attackers. "Orcs!" shouted the Sembians as crude arrows and loud orcish war-cries filled the air expertly cutting the majority of them down - Nim took this opportunity and fled. Like a deer chased by hunter Nim ran, he ran for a day and a night - fleeing for his life.
Unbeknownst to him, the actions of that day were those of his blood- kin. Deception drove their acts to make the Sembians think that orcs were responsible for the ambush - it worked, but at the cost of Nim's banishment. Years have passed and Nim's bestial nature has taken over - a necessary survival adjustment. And yet, even though the haze of the beast he remembers - he hunts.
