Phog

The sun begins to set over the top of the mountains. Dain stands inside Fort DeNurem, watching the Sariants outside pile Orc bodies. The mutants had just attempted to siege the fort, and they had failed. The battle had been hard fought. The Sariants were outnumbered, but, as always, it did not deter them. With superior tactics and organization the Sariants had beaten back the green horde, even going as far as making the Orcish Rex flee from the battle as if he were a child. Dain smirks, he had begun with a victory. A few moments later Dain makes his way to the yard of the fort. He steps onto a small stack of wood. As he stands, the Sariants begin to amass in front of him, awaiting his words. Dain clears his throat loudly before speaking. "Brothers, today we have won a great victory. The mutant hordes attacked our little piece of land hoping to desecrate it and take it for their own. Luckily His Holiness the Emperor gave us the strength to prevail and slaughter them like the mutant filth they are. This is a day of great achievement, men. But this is also a day of great sadness." Dain then takes a moment to compose himself before speaking again. He looks at the Sariants that surround him. Maur, Erik, Eldak, Jon, Tadok; his Brothers. "It is with a heavy heart that I deliver this news. Mirtok has decided that his time as the leader of our most illustrious Order has come to an end, at least for now. His many years of leadership have taken a toll both physically and mentally. Mirtok needs time to recover and recuperate. I ask that you all pray for his quick recovery and his return to Hochmiester. But do not think that he has abandoned us, Brothers; for he has not. Mirtok will serve as the HochLeiter, and the new Hochmiester will consult him in times of great stress. In the mean time Mirtok has named I, Dain Farhammer, to be the Hochmiester of our Order. I understand that I have taken on an exponential responsibility in leading our great Order into the future. This is a daunting task, I will admit, but I harbor no fear. With the assistance of you, my Brothers, I know that we cannot falter nor fail. We will continue our service to His Holiness the Emperor Godfrey, and we shall continue our service well. We shall abhor and destroy the mutant, we shall suffer not the heretic to live, and we shall eliminate the xenos from their unholy existence. As always we shall forever be outnumbered, but never outgunned. We shall accept any challenge, no matter the odds. My hope is that I am able to lead our Order once more into a Golden Age of prosperity. I wish for our strength to be unmatched and our purity to be unchallenged. We shall once more take our rightful place in Oren. But, the only way I can do this is with your help, Brothers! I for one am tired of the constant harassment by the mutant filth. No longer shall this be tolerated. We shall take the fight to the mutants, and we shall lay our vengeance upon them until not even a single one of them draw breath. Their elimination will be slow and total. But once more I shall proclaim, I cannot do this alone! Will you join me, Brothers? Will you aid me in my most holy of tasks? Are you a Sariant?" Dain then draws his axe and points it into the air in one ferocious movement. "Beliae doe Emperor! Beliae doe Orden! Beliae doe Moder Lent!" He look out across the Sariants many of them still in their armor, weapons still bloody from the battle. He sees the faces of his Brothers. An immense pride begins to swell within Dain's heart. He awaits their responses.

Dain Farhammer Age: 214 Gender: Male Race: Half Dwarf/Half Human Status: Alive Description Height: 5ft. 10in. Weight: 205lbs. Body Type: Muscular, but not toned. Husky. Eyes: Brown Hair: Greying Brown Skin: Caucasian Markings/Tattoos: Tattoo of black cross on the back of his right shoulder. Health: Good. Personality: Loyal, zealous, courageous, stubborn. Inventory: Always carries his weapons and a small supply of food in his bag, along with his trusty flask. Further Details: Life Style Alignment*: Lawful Neutral Deity*: The Emperor / The Creator Religion: The Church of Oren Alliance/Nation/Home The Teutonic Order Job/Class: Sariant Title(s): OrdenMarschall, Lead-Handed Child Beater Profession(s): soldier Special Skill(s): Soldiering, fighting, leading men. Flaw(s): Poor social skills, ugly, half-bloodedness Weaponry Fighting Style: Quick, savage blows; winning at any cost Preferred Weapon: Waraxe: Master Warhammer: Novice Shield: Average Archery: Crossbow: Average Biography Parents: Mother: Dalia Farhammer (Dwarf) Father: unknown (Human) Siblings: none Children: none Extended Family: His Brothers in the Teutonic Order. History Dain was born a bastard. He never knew his father, though he knew he was a human. He grew up in Kal'Urguan, but was forced out when he became a young man because he was half human. Dain then wandered Aegis until he found the Teutonic Order. He has been fighting with his fellow Sariants ever since.

Team Friendship is more than Magic is here and ready to go.

IC: Names: Marco, Frido, Sunny, Tadok, Eldak, Jon and Rekker Number of Players: 7 Team Name: Team Friendship is More than Magic ~ OOC: MC names: XxPhogxX maur0821 erik0821 nisocaniso ballnazor tornadowatch Al3xCog

Dain smirks, chuckling a bit before speaking. "You believe that because a "few guards" pardoned you that you are cleansed of your trespassing... And now you admit your ways are heretical? Not only that but you aide our enemies in Normandor. You have condemned yourself." He then turns to Jon. "Purge the heretic. Have Eric and Maur aide you if you need it... Don't do it here, I don't want the carpets getting dirty."

This seems like a very good idea, if it actually happens. I fear this will receive the same treatment as the Asulon Improvement Forum.

Dain looks to the heretic and then to Jon. He strokes his beard for a few moments, thinking. "The Emperor would not pardon him without reason. Perhaps he is changing his ways. I want an explanation from him about all this before I make any kind of decision I might end up regretting."

Dain walks down the hallway, his chain mail making a quiet slinking sound as he does. He points his axe at the strange man with the curved sword, "Who is this, Jon? A friend of yours?"

Dain, hearing the commotion outside snaps his book shut and lays his quill on the table. He walks over to the door of the embassy, hand on the shaft of his axe. He pokes his head out the door, trying to figure out what is going on.

Dain nods as Jonathan finishes speaking. "That is good work, I suppose, though vagueness in information is worthless...." Dain stops speaking as he notices movement outside the door of the embassy. He motions towards the door as he speaks. "Jon, go see what that was."

The Teutonic Embassy in Arethor is quite. An assortment of Sariants sit around, some of them reading huge, dusty tomes, others sharpening their weapons. The smell of burning oak and the sound of the crackling of the fire fill the embassy. Dain sits at the large table, scribbling in a small leather-bound book with a quill. Hochmiester Mirtok sits beside him at the head of the table, studying a map. Dain looks up for a moment, surveying the Sariants. He clears his throat before speaking, "Anyone have anything to report? It's getting too quiet around here..."

Dain emerges from the tumultuous bowels of Hanseti followed by an assortment of Sariants. Black soot covers their bodies, and sweat drips down their faces. Each Sariants' heavy breathes are caught by the freezing air as cloud of vapor. Dain thrust the head of his pickaxe into the snow and takes a drink of water from the flask that hangs idly at his hip. He coughs before speaking to the group. "Heresy grows from idleness, lads. Keep up the good work." He then takes another drink before yanking his pickaxe out of the snow. Dain turns and leads the Sariants' descent back into the mine.