Durandal

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

A Reflection on the Reclamation of the Greenfall
Lord Governor Seretenes Phikrates Eriokles of the Greenfall (-6 - 59)

From fall of Amadel the Greeneye (was) the Greenfall gifted unto Eriokles, now Governor-Lord at behest of his Brother Aedrius. As Aedrian hosts marched forth, conquest reaped, the House Eriokles turned to this land well-named. Under green shade did many fall from Aedrius and Greeneye, claimed by sarissa and bow and disease. The followers came from the bosom of the Empire to Eriokles in (search of) wealth and life among the trees.

"Follow," was his commandment, "and shape the virgin nature to the hands of men." Thousands bowed to his mind and mettle. Mighty was his army of dreams and power assembled in the groves and bays of Greenfall. Eriokles called to the soul of man and forth brought spirited work. Gladly did he accept the succor offered, for in his wisdom did he see the way the world's way.

It is the form of man to seek to break and tame the wild earth that untouched lies in corners of the world; in such form did rise man to conquer the world that had (been) abandoned by fae and their ilk. Curses ancient and dark lingered to halt the march of man, but gods above and strength within conquered all such that was set against us. Easier is our work and for Greeneye is thanks given in such respects. The land once harmful has spent its strength, and now awaits only our further embrace.

Quickly did Eriokles' host advance and admire. Wonders of nature unseen by man or beast were found and enshrined, prayers sent to the divines who sheltered our development. The homes of old Greeneye found in our breasts a love and adoption, yet Eriokles was unsatisfied. Visions within his head danced of road clad green, wonders of the Empire forevermore. Infectious was his hope, and strong the rain of axes and picks. Connections grew amongst those here and across the sea, a body anew to enrich the Greenfall. Such wonders were wrought in his court that the architects and builders of old would have bowed in reverence. A land, once barren of (human) touch and rampant in natural greed is new and greatest of feats. The roads and walls bring green gold, and ever greater is the foundations of man.

Court Philosopher Keliares, 27

A friend we thought was Thanesrow, a loyal and helpful servant. Alas, the Greenland is but host to traitors, to ones who do not blood nor faith nor spirit of man. This court once lively is now hushed, a darkness cast on Eriokles' soul and all he wish that all were well. Condemned us did Thanesrow with the blackest of poxes, fearful with envy of our Lord's success. Long did I warn, those that walked along with I. People so removed from man, praying to nature as if gods. Only chaos do they seek, destruction and reversion to times of woe.

Anger fills now ravaged hearts, and new strength binds us to our Lord Eriokles. The learned flock to fix the wrongs that taught those who lived under Greeneye, following roads by our hands built, blood spilt to clear the way. Torches now burn brighter as those holy among bless our faith, aiding us to tame the wilds and purify of pagan ills.

Rumors stir of vengeance as many march to Treewall, bringing civilization forth. Our forts, once protecting, now turn eyes to the north and Meadland, wishing to savage those who have wronged our spirits. In this hour does the holiness of him show on our black hearts, bidding us to stay our hand. Hope is what he entreats us to embrace, and so the heart (of order) we build.

Court Philosopher Keliares, 28

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

<Snipped quote by Durandal>

Very glad to hear :-) ! That means a lot hear, on a sincere level. Looking through your post history, I'm quite confident you'd be a good fit. I'll add you to the list :-)

In other news, I finally got an autofill setup going for the characters. You can likely expect them within 24 hours.

@Publius

Thanks for having me on. :)

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

These are some of the most original and intriguing premises and formard that I have ever seen in an RP. Congratulations on the amazing work. I'll likely be participating in this.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

Kethel, Central Aridhol

In the southern reaches of Aridhol, only several leagues from the river border of Manetheren, a large camp lay sprawled across the landscape. Several hundred tents lay clustered near each other, but cooking fires and activity ranged far beyond that group of tents. Trollocs milled about, fighting amongst each other, sleeping, or taunting the groups of humans that would scurry by in packs, the people eyeing their larger comrades warily. Being careless amongst Trollocs could easily see one dead, and it was not uncommon for at least a couple of people to disappear in any given week. One particular party of twenty rode on horses, clearing a path through the rabble as they trotted to the center of the encampment, a small manor fashioned of wood and stone that showed signs of damage, chunks torn clean in various places.

As they passed out of the fields and woods and into the clusters of tents, the Trollocs and their Myrddraal handlers all but disappeared in terms of presence. Much as in cities, the closer one got to the center, the more sumptuous the surroundings became. As many as four people would crowd into the ragged canvas shelters in the outer ring of tents, making do with what space and supplies they could get. Close to the manor, tents were individual more often than not, kept in fairly good condition in comparison to the ones at the outside of the human sector.

Dismounting, the party of humans advanced into the manor, passing by the guards who reluctantly allowed them inside. Several minutes passed before the sound of a loud crash came from inside the building. The guards dropped their weapons and began to run at full speed away from the building, prompting others to join them in fleeing. Yells and screams filled the air as many tried to figure out what was going on while others streamed towards the edge of the encampment. For a moment, it seemed as if all sound had gone to those still near the manor. Then the blast wave hit them, carrying enough shrapnel to begin shredding their bodies. Where once there had been a manor, now only rubble and a crater remained. Much of the surrounding area had not fared much better. Only two people remained visible in the dust, one held in the air by unseen bonds, the other on the ground.

"They brought you to kill me, admit it, you bloody dog!" screamed the man on the ground, waving his single arm violently. Baggy cloth rippled through the air, the tears in his garment all the more visible as he moved. Dressed almost as a poor peasant in contrast to the fine-armor of the man in the air, it was undoubtedly he who controlled the situation. "You and all of those other flaming bastards who thought that they might usurp me. Where did they go? They came in with you, where did they go?!"

"I-I have no wish to harm you, Lord Kethel. I o-only bring information about your sister Emira. Never did I-" his sobbed replies cut off as he fell to the ground, smashing against a still-intact chunk of wood. Groaning, he pushed himself up to his knees and glanced warily at the man in rags. Kethel stood there as if in a trance, face wiped clean of emotion and body swaying from side to side. In the background, people began to emerge from the tents, grabbing anything of value from the remains of the explosion before another could claim it. Rising to his feet, the man said, "She is travelling with-"

A ball of flame replaced his head for a brief moment before disappearing. The headless body fell to the ground. Clothing that had been exposed was on fire, and the armor at the neck drooped slightly from before, the intense heat of the ball having assaulted the steel's integrity. Kethel began walking north without ever looking at the body, blank stare replaced by one of anger, a grimace sketched across his face.

"Someone get his armor off him, he has no need of it anymore," Kethel commanded, voice loud yet raspy. Gone was the nervous, fretting figure from the blast. A pair of Darkfriends jumped up and hurried over the burning body, patting out the flames with dirt and cloth. Walking at a brisk pace, Kethel was joined on his way by a Myrddraal and several other Darkfriends, these equipped much more finely than the other humans in the camp, boasting pieces of plate armor and masterfully worked swords or axes.

"Gather the host and prepare to move southward," Kethel stated, long strides forcing the others to hurry to keep pace. "Leral, Aneth, you will accompany me to Shadar Logoth. The same with you, Myrddraal." This last sentence was emphasized by Kethel's pointed stare at the creature. It reacted naught, but it noticed the weave of air brushing up around its body. Death held no appeal for the Fade. The north end of the camp was in a relative state of calm in comparison to the manor area, but some barked orders set all into motion. Within ten minutes, Kethel had received the suit of armor from the body and stored the piece in his saddlebags. Jumping onto his horse, he whipped the steed into action, forcing his two lieutenants to take off after him. There was business to take care of in that city of shadows.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

Kethel

Name:
Kethel 'ys Lorein

Gender:
Male

Age:
46

Origin:
Eharon

Career:
Dreadlord

Faction:
Commander of a smaller Shadow force

Appearance:
Kethel was once a particularly handsome man. He was far from a perfect figure, but his charm and features were sufficient enough to make him popular with some of the younger ladies in his city. That was twenty years ago, and the Taint and war have taken their toll on him. Of about average height, he is usually clad in ill-fitting brown clothing of normal quality. His lack of a right arm leaves a noticeable absnece and is a testament to his time in combat alongside the various scars on his body. His eyes are a plain brown, sunken into his face and usually simmering with repressed anger or amusement.

History:
Kethel was born to a minor merchant family in Eharon, the sixth of seven children. Missing the chance to be groomed for taking over the family and not displaying the aptitude in school to be considered being made a merchant, he was trained as a soldier to help fulfil the family obligation to the war effort against the Shadow. More successful in military than family matters, Kethel quickly became popular amongst his comrades in arms.
It was at the age of seventeen that Kethel would discover his ability to channel. He was at home on temporary leave visiting his family, taking the opportunity to carouse with his older sister Emira who had recently been raised to Accepted status. Attacked by Darkfriends on their way home from a tavern, Kethel panicked and struck one with a brand of fire. They fled, but he was now left facing his sister. She made no mention of it, and life continued as normal for several weeks.
The Red Ajah appeared when he was about to leave for the frontlines of the war. When they attempted to subdue him, he is rumored to have killed two Aes Sedai as he made his escape. The last sight of his home was Emira staring from one of the Ajah carriages.
Now on the run, he fled northward until he reached Shadow territory, chased all the way by members of the Red Ajah. He was captured by Darkfriends and eventually joined the forces of the Shadow. Kethel came to control his own force of Shadowspawn and became known for his strikes deep into territory controlled by the Ten Kingdoms. As his influence grew among the Shadow, so did his army and his insanity.

Notes:
Strength in the One Power: 7 (1(+12)), strongest in Fire
Once a proficient swordsman
Known as much for his cruelty against his own forces as against those of the Light
Despite attempts at tryimg to hide his insanity, it has became more or less widely known that the Taint has consumed much of Kethel's mind.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

And voila, the Insane One!

Name:
Kethel 'ys Lorein

Gender:
Male

Age:
46

Origin:
Eharon

Career:
Dreadlord

Faction:
Commander of a smaller Shadow force

Appearance:
Kethel was once a particularly handsome man. He was far from a perfect figure, but his charm and features were sufficient enough to make him popular with some of the younger ladies in his city. That was twenty years ago, and the Taint and war have taken their toll on him. Of about average height, he is usually clad in ill-fitting brown clothing of normal quality. His lack of a right arm leaves a noticeable absnece and is a testament to his time in combat alongside the various scars on his body. His eyes are a plain brown, sunken into his face and usually simmering with repressed anger or amusement.

History:
Kethel was born to a minor merchant family in Eharon, the sixth of seven children. Missing the chance to be groomed for taking over the family and not displaying the aptitude in school to be considered being made a merchant, he was trained as a soldier to help fulfil the family obligation to the war effort against the Shadow. More successful in military than family matters, Kethel quickly became popular amongst his comrades in arms.
It was at the age of seventeen that Kethel would discover his ability to channel. He was at home on temporary leave visiting his family, taking the opportunity to carouse with his older sister Emira who had recently been raised to Accepted status. Attacked by Darkfriends on their way home from a tavern, Kethel panicked and struck one with a brand of fire. They fled, but he was now left facing his sister. She made no mention of it, and life continued as normal for several weeks.
The Red Ajah appeared when he was about to leave for the frontlines of the war. When they attempted to subdue him, he is rumored to have killed two Aes Sedai as he made his escape. The last sight of his home was Emira staring from one of the Ajah carriages.
Now on the run, he fled northward until he reached Shadow territory, chased all the way by members of the Red Ajah. He was captured by Darkfriends and eventually joined the forces of the Shadow. Kethel came to control his own force of Shadowspawn and became known for his strikes deep into territory controlled by the Ten Kingdoms. As his influence grew among the Shadow, so did his army and his insanity.

Notes:
Strength in the One Power: 7 (1(+12)), strongest in Fire
Once a proficient swordsman
Known as much for his cruelty against his own forces as against those of the Light
Despite attempts at tryimg to hide his insanity, it has became more or less widely known that the Taint has consumed much of Kethel's mind.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

@aviendha
Sorry, I've been dealing with some family and personal issues the past couple of days. I have the public sheet completed and the private sheet almost finished. Just adding some final touches to the history. I wanted to wait until I had both finished to post them up.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

@aviendha
I'll be getting mine up tomorrow. Finally have a good amount of free time. Not much left to work on.

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

@aviendha
Yeah, still working on it. Computer crashed at one point and deleted my progress plus I had some work pop up yesterday. Trying to get it done. :)

The Wheel of Time - Trolloc Wars

I'd like to control one of the smaller forces for the Shadow. I have been sick today and have some work to do, so I will try to get my character started tomorrow.