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Faenur

"It is a set of ideals. I merely try to the see the whole picture of it."

0 · 175 views · located in Messiah

a character in “Beyond Messiah”, as played by reveries

Description

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Full Name: Faenur Himel (His mother's given name)
Nickname: Faer (Spirit), but he rather prefers that you don't call him by any nickname at all. "Fae-fae" will get you a sharp glare, or hit in the stomach with his elbow, depending on who you were.
Gender: Male
Age: 26-27
Species: (Short-eared) Elf
Sexual Orientation: Both/Neither - he's demisexual.

Description Details
Height|6'1"
Weight|10 stones.
Appearance|Darker than fair in complexion, Faenur has rather odd traits, though not not very unusual of an Elf, be it long-eared or short-eared. While he has rather sun-kissed skin from exposure to the sun and is best described as lightly tanned. He has stark-white, soft-edged feathery hair like many elves do, but Faenur strangely has the whitest pupils and lightest in silvery-green color that his eyes could get. Framed by thick lashes, Faenur's eyes are often dull in color, but they brighten with his expressions and gestures if only slightly. Originally, they were a white color much like that of his hair, but they began to darken over time. A very firm facial expression is often on his features, dark thick brows slightly inwards into a frown, giving a very serious aura most of the time like that of what is required in a military soldier, but has an occasional smile. Having a well-developed jaw and broad shoulders make Faenur a very masculine and matured man, despite the otherwise mystical features that elves usually appear as, and the slight traces of child-like appearances he has been able to keep.

He has a well-built body that is lean but solid, having angular-limbs that fit his angular like build, he also has deep scars and broken skin appearing mostly on his back and arms. Faenur has many scars from recovered wounds that are placed over various parts of his body, such as the scars over his knuckles, of large hands, and wrists, and various healed cuts on his legs as well. However, most of many's attention is brought to the strange markings on his face that go to extend down his neck as well. A deep gash that lines out his neck muscle was in fact, a wound that he had miraculously survived from. However, he was in fact born with the strange markings on his chin and chin that extend down to his chest and form around his arm in curving lines. They veil around his arms and hands, and even around his legs and feet, in white color but appear as scarred over wounds, when in fact they are not. They are very harsh and blunt lines, often frightening other elves upon gazing at them. On the back of his right shoulder though, there is a clear patch of skin that has not been touched by scars, but rather is where the marking tattoo of his status as a soldier is placed.

Faenur carries himself with the sense of that military, rigid and straight, taking on an accustomed stance in many things that he does, be it walking, standing or sitting. Most of the time, this gives him a very intimidating feature, as he shows confidence and dominance in his gestures with each movement. He has become used to this way of holding himself and doesn't usually realize until someone who notices it and points it out.

Generally, Faenur wears a moderate amount of armor a lot of the time, having plates of metal that is light yet sturdy over his shoulders, forearms, chest and lower legs. It appears thick, but is not as heavy as it appears. He wears black cloth underneath the plates, and it is fasten by leather to his main appendages, where otherwise more comfortable and slightly tighter clothing that more suited to stealth is beneath the layers of his armor, where bandages or thin cloth have taken home to being on his person. His boots are simply typically overlaid thin cloth with more metal plates fasten to it, securing around his feet. A large leather belt with pockets and containing slots that hold various things are around his waist and hold onto his weaponry.

Skills:
Combat skill — as a high ranking officer and soldier, Faenur has been trained and accomplished a high level of skill in combat, be it in weaponry or actual hand-to-hand brawling. He is learning to practice other forms of martial art, but he knows the basics and advanced arts of that is taught in the military.
Stealth/Quick reflexes — while understanding strategies and techniques to know to fight (see above), it is only put best to use when one is able to use it properly. Faenur has a well-build body, but he lacks in strength when compared to other soldiers due to his more slimmer size. Therefore, he makes up in speed and accuracy, and while it does create a damaging blow to his person, he can deal more damage faster in many, quick blows before his opponent can deal a whole lot of damage in one. His armor is generally a nuisance when it comes to this, but is good defense before it can be shed off, to which he will begin striking back. (This costs him a lot of armor lost, though.)
Sense of Seer Sight — although Faenur has no control over this gift, as it's very under-developed and very raw, because he doesn't understand what it is nor has he trained it to be convenient. He occasionally sees visions that foretell the future, varying in importance. Be it the tomorrow's weather or the outcome of a duel between two challengers (it including himself or not) when during his intermediate training as soldier, it does every now and then awaken whenever he (or another) is in great danger, or during in his slumber to alert him of something of extreme importance. Of course, Faenur doesn't understand most of his visions, and it is possible that most of his dreams are of his visions, but he usually forgets them when he wakes up, causing many a sense of de'ja vu when the visions turn out to be true, but it is disregarded as mere instinct/expectation.

Weakness(es):
Hyperopia/Farsightedness — it is a very big disadvantage when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, and this poor, blurry sight extends up 6 feet in front of him, but he has excellent vision at distances.
Lack of Magical Ability — Perhaps it is an mutation gene that had happened in him, but he has a lack of magical ability, like that his origins: the humans. But you could say that his seer's sight is a magic on its own, but it is not as if he's aware of it.
Sensitivity to the Effects of Magic — A continuation of the above. With his lack of magical ability, is his higher sensitivity to the effects of magic, as damage done by magic is absorbed more easily to him, strangely. He believes that perhaps it is because that he is unable to channel to what elves may consider their flow of magic, and in this sense, those with magic have developed a guard against other magics. But he hasn't tested this theory nor bothered to ask during his studies.

Equipment:
Standard Pair of Double-Bladed Daggers — basic weaponry is important to carry on his person at all times as a soldier. They are kept on his belt.
Custom Longsword — see above; it is kept on his left side of his belt.
Healing Salve — when one is involved in the army, you cannot not expect to get a few life threatening wounds here or there, as one cannot be too careful when it comes to these things.

Personal Summary: Because he himself is an individual who never did quite "fit in" since the beginning to his birth to now, he sees things quite differently than what of his average fellow elven may. Faenur, although he may disagree with how his society must judge elves such as himself, does however value his place in the social hierarchy, seeing as he has been judged and mistreated due to this system. However, he hopes to not be tied down by the strict cagings of the Elves and their limited views, and wants to be able to see the rest of the world's beings and their varying features, much like that of his own differences, freely and as his own self where he will not be harshly judged on who or what he is. A very naive way of thinking, but one's dreams can only be as so, can it not?

Personality: Faenur is a very quiet being, and speaks when it is required to his superiors or to reply to a simple statement. Other than that, he generally remains almost mute, keeping to himself and not being a bother in anyone's way, mostly due to the influence that he has had as a child, leading him to being slightly withdrawn. While he may be on friendly terms with many elves, he keeps himself at a distance, making sure that he never gets too close. It has been speculated that Faenur may have trust issues. He doesn't like to make conversation if it's not required, and rather prefers to focus on the task at hand, wanting to avoid small talk or useless chatter altogether from habit. However, when he does go on a longer time of speaking than usual, it is usually to question/investigate someone, or is done out of strong emotions. While he remains stoic most of the time, he either keeps a sort of carefree aura that's kept to himself as he minds his own business, or of seriousness and deep concentration on whatever it is that he is doing at the given moment. Usually, when he is off-guard, he would make a very content expression with a smile, but should he notice that others are watching him, he would quickly cover it up with his usual face, reacting to such much like a child.

Despite how Faenur is a very independent individual, he is able to communicate and function properly when the time rises to work with other people. He doesn't usually have much to say unless it's needed, but his actions and few words are often enough to get his own point across. Hardly will it be that he shows much emotion, remaining collected and calm under even the most intense and risky situations, and maintains patience throughout. Faenur is quick-thinking, and usually thinks before he takes to action, keeping a logical way of thinking like many of his Elven do, often testing things out or laying low until he finds a moment to strike multiple blows or the whatnot. However, he is a dreamer, and a dreamer he will continue to be, holding many child-like ways of thinking and naive hopes to keep close to himself. Faenur sees the world through a different set of thoughts, faiths, opinions, and the such. While he's accustomed to the way that the society is as he's grown up and abided by its laws for all of his life, he cannot help but wonder how it will be like to be out of this limited set of views, having seen what it is like to being treated with more respect than to that of his previous treatment, because of what he was. It scares and angers him to see this twisted way of government, but he's a part of it and the society, and he cannot help it but empathize and understand that it is what it is, despite how it insecure or unsettled it makes him.

But even the quiet ones have their own moments. In the few rare occasions that he will show his emotions, it will typically of strong ones that have heavy influence on him. It's more likely that these would be of anger from insecurity/etc., which is more frightening than its worth. He will be harsh and blunt in his wording during these phases, telling it straightly and sharply, with sharp edges that will hurt, as they bring truth. He does not have any self-restrain in speaking whenever he does allow these strong emotions to take control. Faenur doesn't exert any physical violence onto others, but it will probably be taken out on by him attempting to cut through air through self combat practice, etc. The most likely trigger for his anger is either the lazy who do not work to get where they are, yet complain or brag, or seeing himself in mistreated individuals of continuous and hurtful harassment as no one does a thing about it. But they are of very few occurrences, and the few individuals who have seen it, do not speak of it, ever.

History/other: Faenur was born in the Ville, as all of many elves have, and was born the youngest as the second son of the household. He was strange from the moment that he was born. When he first came out into the world, he wasn't breathing, and his eyes were closed; he wasn't even crying. The doctors speculated that perhaps, Faenur had died once he came into the world and before he had even taken his first breath. But after several minutes, he began showing life signs, and the medical folk immediately found it to be some sort of miracle that he was beginning to breathe again, while quickly making sure that they didn't lose a hold of him again. He was weak in health for the majority of his infant hood, but managed to never sick afterwards, and while he was cooed over like any other baby, he was often talked about of his strange birthing process and how he had white eyes upon first opening them, instead of a dark shade, like both of his parents' and older brother's. This was relieved when he began to develop a darker shade of eye color as he grew up. His given name was put together as so in a combination of "White and Radiant/Spirit", for his eyes and the miracle of him coming back to life; that perhaps he was blessed by a spirit at his birth. He took on his mother's given name as his surname because of the district in which he was born in did not give surnames to their newborns.

Despite how Faenur was born with strange markings on his skin, he was able to manage through the light teasing from the other elves throughout his childhood, and didn't mind how he had the markings, as it scared away many of the other children due to how frightening it made him look. Though, the teasing became worse when it was discovered that he couldn't perform magic like of his origins, the humans, and when they got to an age where they wouldn't be scared and go home to cry to their mothers, Faenur began to receive horrible treatment from a majority of elves who disliked the way he looked, despite his short ears, and his lack of magical ability gave reason to them to look down upon the young elf.

Throughout his preteen and teenage years, Faenur was put through many forms of bullying and judgement from even his own father and brother among the other elves. But, he found support from his mother. It is only to be expected that a mother had her own natural instincts to love and protect the children that she herself brought into the world, and swept away all other opinions, and for this, he is forever grateful to his mother for having been there for him, even though he was disregarded by all others. Despite how his mother every now and then remarks how how she could've given birth to a child such as he with no magical ability and so many strange scars, Faenur is often reassured that his mother truly loves him, regardless of his appearance or abilities.

As his family were of generally moderately good status in the Elven society, Faenur was treated well, but the occasional quiet backlash regarding his appearance had escalated to the point that he was treated as if he were a mere long-eared elf. He managed to persevere through it, despite his every now and then urge to get revenge, his mother made sure that he never went down that path to self-destruction.

Once Faenur had reached the age of 18, he decided to join the army, to at the very least, make his father, who was a moderately high ranking officer, a little bit proud of him. He was generally treated as if he was below the others because of his lack of ability that they have, and treated as an eyesore in regards of his appearance from the other elves, but he managed to get to the top of his classes and best the rest of the other elves in due time. When he finally turned 21, he was a commanding officer that was going up the ranks steadily. He had begun to gain the respect of other elves around this time as the comments about his appearance and his no magic trait faded, and had began his odd de'ja vu bouts around this time as well. His father was beginning to change, and while they were on the same rank, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride, despite the slight shame from what he has done to his son and how this very same son was able to achieve the rank that he himself had kept without ever advancing. This, his father confessed during a drunken banter. Faenur never heard of it again from his father, but had begun to receive better treatment from his family. His life was turning around.

At 23, he was able to reach very high in the rankings, becoming a very well-respected elf for this, and despite the many scars that he received from the intense training and missions, finally able to gain acceptance from the rest of the entire of society. Faenur, currently, treasures his position that has come from the long, hard work of 6-7 years that he had endured to get to where he is presently, but cannot help but still slightly insecure over how his society continues to judge even of their own kind, and even of his appearance that has been nitpicked at and jeered over for the majority of his life.

Beyond Messiah (current events+):

So begins...

Faenur's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alma Character Portrait: Aransandorian Dwin'shadr Character Portrait: Vahana Zhanik Character Portrait: Faenur Character Portrait: Arahael Telrunya Character Portrait: Finno Telemnar

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#, as written by Meesha
*
The Baron was a very political man in his middle age. At the age of 30 he began to take an interest in the goings on around his isle first poking his nose into the business of others before diving head first into the issues of Messiah. Now at 35 he was neck deep in the affairs of others and held meetings at his humble abode with various concerned councils and rulers associates. It appeared troubled nations found relief entrusting their problems to a seemingly trouble-free man of wealth and opportunity.

Now he sat at a round table (chosen specifically for equality) as he shared this table with many troubled faces. It was no secret to those present that Messiah was heading for a fall. To confirm it many had gathered here to discuss ways to avoid falling with it.

That's why the curious Alma Finch and 3 other pretty female figures were hiding just outside the large conference room where the Baron was holding a rumoured 'very important' meeting. Alma didn't know many politicians by name but she could certainly tell a big fish when she saw one and there were quite a few swimming in the pond of the Baron this very morning.

Alma had only a while ago been slouched in a chair in her bedroom having her hair yanked in various directions with beads, brushes and clips when a nimble figured girl with bleach-bone coloured hair and big emerald eyes tumbled into her chambers (fiancee number 4) and gushed about the said meeting occurring right this very minute. The boisterous blonde was out of that seat quicker than a cat out of water to the disdained wails of her servants.

Now 4 of them were stood perched against the wall in their night dresses listening intently to a conversation that wasn't to be heard.**

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aransandorian Dwin'shadr Character Portrait: Vahana Zhanik Character Portrait: Faenur Character Portrait: Arahael Telrunya Character Portrait: Finno Telemnar

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Stand straight; attentive. Unmoving. This was a familiar saying that he had been disciplined with from his instructors. Faenur kept his shoulders square and his spine straight, an accustomed habit that he has taken to for the last 7 years, rigid and still. He kept on his own poker face, neutral and indifferent as he watched the others present in the room that The Baron had provided for the company here today.

While he had never kept any sort of contact nor had he been friendly terms with his fellow Elven representatives, he respected that they were well-received (more or less) individuals in their society. An Elf Council member is present to represent the other Council member that would not attend, and a representative of the Fir’kah Order, their religious ways so highly thought of. He's heard of the two individuals, perhaps lightly and in hushed tones as he had studied, but he knew nothing about them. Faenur was in a position that, according to what his memory would follow of the foreign studies of military and army order of foreign lands, translated from what the complexity of his 'world', his ranking was likely like that of the Lieutenant Captain of the Guard, as the Captain is unable to leave his post from the Guard from their society. One must always be prepared for war, especially under these conditions. He had kept note of their names and they all did not seem to enjoy conversation as they had traveled here to the Isle. He found it fine. They would likely be go to continue their separate ways, depending on how this would go. The very same for all of the other representatives here; they, strangers, conversing over the issue at hand. There will be most definitely arguments. Faenur couldn't help the mixed feelings of his directed towards the diverse individuals.

Faenur could've swore in the silence that the room held so far that he could hear some sort of thumping, very light and barely noticeable, like a sort of light struggle with something behind the walls of this room, but focused his attention on the meeting. Think nothing of it. Likely a servant tripped over. His gut felt a bit uneasy though. It was likely to reason from the fact that he was currently on the Isle, a place where his society has thought nothing but of lowly things from its nature, things to feel, if only a little bit, uncomfortable about. His uneasiness came from the dreams that he had been getting, equally worrisome and uncomfortable as he would often wake up in a panic and in cold sweat. Faenur had consulted for medicine, but it hasn't worked so far.

His brows furrowed if only the slightest bit, a very small muscle movement that had at lest gave way to hint to his slight worry over the seriousness of the nature of the meeting, perhaps it would be the only tell that he would give way. And hopefully, it - this meeting - will go well.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alma Character Portrait: Aransandorian Dwin'shadr Character Portrait: Vahana Zhanik Character Portrait: Faenur Character Portrait: Arahael Telrunya

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A figure swathed in deep blue silk sat directly opposite the Baron, for all the world resembling more a statue than a man. It would have been a fine statue, perhaps, lifelike in detail, but perhaps one into which the artist had forgotten to carve any hint of emotion. The man’s ears swept backwards to points, ending just beyond the back of his head, covered fragmentarily here and there by starkly-white hair that appeared to be of a similar texture to his clothing. Pale silver eyes were half-lidded, appearing for the most part to rest only on some undetermined place just over the Baron’s left shoulder.

Such was not exactly the case, but as his stone-hewn visage would suggest, Aransandorian Dwin’shadr was very good at both gathering information and hiding what he knew. Like the fact, for example, that this meeting was not quite so private as the Baron believed. He knew not who the eavesdroppers were, but as he sensed neither hostile intent nor magic in any great measure from any of them, he decided he would leave it be. They were of no consequence to himself, at least.

Currently, the monk appeared quite unconcerned with anything, having perched cross-legged in his chair and folded his arms into his heavy, distended sleeves. His posture was perfect, but he somehow managed to avoid looking too rigid. Perhaps it was the staff, the butt end on the ground in front of the chair and the ring end leaned casually on his right shoulder. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he felt no desire to display any kind of anxiety or disquiet. The matters at hand were certainly serious, he would not deny that, but their severity alone was no reason to panic.

Briefly, his eyes flickered to the others in the room. He recognized the elven councilwoman, though it had been a considerable amount of time since he’d been in elven lands. Part of his mandate was keeping track of political figures everywhere, and the fact that one with long ears had managed to ascend so high was something he imagined he might once have been proud of. Now, he was unmoved; this was just another piece of valuable information.

The other one was a soldier, if is carriage and wary stare spoke true. A respectable position, moreso if he was adept enough to earn himself a place here. His face was just about as unreadable as Aran’s, something which took quite a lot of practice. That, too, was admirable. Excessive emoting in a situation like this was undesirable and inefficient.

One of the others was surely a Kendani, perhaps serving to represent the tribes at large. Aran had met one or two of her people before, and of course study of the culture was required, but he could not say he’d had a protracted conversation with any of them, so she was perhaps the largest unknown quantity in the equation he was currently building of the situation.

The Baron himself was human, which could have meant anything. As it was, however, Aransandorian knew a great deal of the man, most of it recently learned, and including his penchant for young women of his species. It was a strange thing, the elf had thought to himself, and he personally did not understand it in the slightest. How was it that those women were content to be shut up in this place with not even a trace of their own decisionmaking left to them? Even when he had been an urchin scrounging in the dirt for his next meal, there had been some semblance of choice, and he would not have traded that tiny morsel of freedom for all the glitter and riches in the world. Perhaps the Baron’s young brides were simply of a different sort.

It wasn’t anything more than an idle curiosity, anyway. He had spent far too long looking at larger patterns of world-changing events to focus long on the minutiae of experience.

He wondered, with a brief flash of impatience that did not disturb his outward serenity, if the meeting would soon start or if he’d be spending more minutes wasting his time contemplating the life choices of people he would never care to encounter.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alma Character Portrait: Aransandorian Dwin'shadr Character Portrait: Vahana Zhanik Character Portrait: Faenur Character Portrait: Arahael Telrunya

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Vahana was sure her tongue would start bleeding at any moment, the way she was gnawing it with her naturally sharp teeth. It was a habit of hers in stressful situations. This was by far the most stressful situation she’d been in so far in her life. Any of the discomfort she’d felt during the Trials of her Rite of Passage paled in comparison to the discomfort she felt just sitting still in a room full of strangers. Sitting still in itself was hard enough, for the Kendani was used to running around, hopping to and from trees and such. Maybe chasing the occasional prey. But this was different. Very different. And she hated it.

Although she was priviliged and honored to have been chosen to attend, of all the others of her race, she’d never expected it would be like this. Her golden eyes were narrowed suspiciously and her lupine ears were pricked as she conducted a better analysis of her surroundings. First, she scented eavesdroppers. Four. Female. Curious. Annoying. The latter at least to Vahana, anyways. People who tried to be sneaky angered her. They were hardly ever any good at it. She rimmed the sharp edges of her fang-like teeth with her tongue lightly as she analyzed the others in the room.

There were four elves, two long-eared and two short-eared (not that it mattered much to Vahana; elves were elves, right? That’s what she thought, at least). One was a female, with wavy hair similar in shade to her own. She didn’t seem threatening. Not in the least. The other was a silver-haired, solemn-looking male who seemed to be observing just as Vahana was herself. Her gaze lingered on him as she considered how threatening he was. She disregarded it after a moment and moved to the next, a short-eared elf. Judging by his stature and figure, Vahana infered that he was a warrior of some sort. Or something along those lines. The last short-eared was sort of like the male long-eared. At least, as far as Vahana looked.

Moving on around the table with her gaze, Vahana laid eyes on whom she’d been informed was the Baron. He was human, judging by his scent and features. Vahana always found the world outside her tribe interesting, but nothing more so intruiged her than the human. How odd it was that while the Kendani shared a similar form, there were monumental differences between the two. Humans were so interestingly regular. They weren’t very special at all. And somehow, they managed to make a place for themselves in the world.

Vahana, satisfied with her relatively quick scrutiny, turned her gaze to her hands, folded uncharactersitically in her lap. The sharp nails dug into her skin as she kept them tightly clasped together, breathing deeply to calm herself down. It was Kendani instinct to be very wary of new things. Odd as it was, any other of her race would be having a nervous breakdown. But Vahana was a different sort, and was willing to cooperate with these other, foreign beings. She had to be.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aransandorian Dwin'shadr Character Portrait: Vahana Zhanik Character Portrait: Faenur Character Portrait: Arahael Telrunya

0.00 INK

#, as written by Meesha
The Baron surveyed his company with calm green eyes before leaning his elbows on the table. He’d been contemplating his speech for quite some time, unsure of how to start an explanation that briefly indicated the world ending. It was a strong subject and was only being breeched because he was certain that they really had left the problem alone for long enough.

“Good Morning company, I thank you for joining me in such short notice.”
He began whilst clearing his throat in the process. Many eyes turned on him and the attention would be rather stifling if he wasn’t a man of such great composure.

“As you may or may not of heard from various rumours there is a spot of trouble accumulating in Messiah and when I say a spot of trouble…I mean a growing spot.”

The Baron pushed out his chair and made his way round to a great canvas hung on the wall that mapped out nearly all of Messiah. With a cane he gestured to the western area of the map.

“The Glaciar Kingdom in the west has been known in the past for hostile conduct. Despite this though we’ve never really had much cause to be concerned. Our nations are perfectly prepared for wars and such, however recently I’ve received some disturbing news from various sources.
According to them the Glaciar Kingdom is attempting to wage a war. I say attempting because they have not yet declared it themselves. Now I haven’t brought you here on the basis of a hearsay.”


The Baron paused to look at his company his bottom lip clenched momentarily between his teeth.
“I investigated things myself and what I discovered was most…disturbing. The Glacians have somehow managed to acquire a very sinister form of magic. A kind I have never seen before. A kind that appears to be far too strong to control. The Glaciar Kingdom has infact fallen.”

The Baron put his cane down to rest upon it for a moment. The news was still raw to him. It wasn‘t every day that you discovered an entire Kingdom had disappeared right underneath your nose.

“There is no Kingdom. It’s gone. Not a Glacian in sight. Only…monsters. A darkness has taken over the west. I captured one of the creatures I found there. The unearthed magic had somehow dominated a Glacian’s mind and soul turning them into something unnatural. It’s infectious and very violent.”

At this point the Baron pulled up his sleeve to reveal a series of vicious scars which looked terribly poisoned and hazardous to his health.
“I under came an attack when securing the creature- being human I can’t quite handle the sheer power of the magic transferred in these cuts. Hopefully the death I shall soon meet won’t be too punishing. After all I am a good man.” With this the small smile on his face weakened.

“The point of this meeting is to inform you that this darkness is travelling. It’s violent and infectious nature is making it’s way into small communities, into villages and towns spreading violence and mutilation of the mind and body. Soon it will reach Valing-dale and after that…the rest of us.”

The Baron retook his position at the table his appearance suddenly very tired and very ill.
“There is no avoiding the matter. Messiah needs a miracle. Otherwise your homes, your families, your friends will all be forfeited…the world as we know it will come to an end. Take it from a dying man, no army or medicine could cure this. There is nothing but one option…travel beyond Messiah and find the peace maker.”