Markus Wander

The great wood grew thicker and thicker with smoke as Balaena moved south, and Balaena worried no longer that the Mali'ker wouldn't accept her back into the fold after what she'd done, but that they couldn't for what might have happened to them. As she slogged through the bog in the lowest basin of the wood, she almost turned around, to find that nice humann who had protected her from the monsters when she'd mistakenly tried to return to Haelun'or. But she had to know for sure, if the family her father had loved and her mother had spurned might still be as strong as she hoped, strong as she had been stupid before to reject them... She climbed one of the great trees to find the new city, where she might be wanted. With a sigh of relief, she saw the source of the smoke in the distance, and that it didn't seem to be from the sacking of a city, but a great bonfire. She allowed herself to believe that it was a beacon, to show her her way to her true home. Balaena had learned much, and she had much to atone for.

Lenden never figured he would achieve much. When his Father would kick him and tell him he was worthless, as the four year old Lenden scrubbed the decks of his Father’s pirate ship, Lenden would think “Yeah, that sounds right.” But somehow, through a decade the slave of his father, and a second, starving on the street, picking pockets with only other wretches like him for company, he had managed to find a home. Lenden had never expected to live long, and that thought never troubled him much. Very few things troubled him. It wasn’t until he had met the mali’ker that he started to take pride in the expectation. He would lay in his bed at night and imagine saving the cave from a monster, or single handedly fighting off an invading army, and fulfilling the silent promise he’d made for the family he’d found all on his own. As he sat bleeding, pinned to a tree in the forest outside Annil’Sul, shot by a mali’ame without even an explanation, he heard his Father again. He wasn’t surprised to hear him, and he wasn’t filled with anguish or regret, only a sense of vague disappointment. He wanted to give everything he could give to his new family in the cave. He wanted to spend many years with them, protecting them, laughing with them. It was the first time he had felt happy. It was the first time he had felt much of anything with any depth or flavor. Now he felt a cavernous depth. They would look for him, he knew. When they found him, they would cry. He knew that too. That thought comforted him, in a selfish sort of way that he didn’t bother to feel guilt over. Aunrae would cry, but would get over it. Balaena was the only one that worried him. The child he had helped make, but had never belonged to him. She already didn’t have much going for her, but without him around, she might be lost. But then again, so had he been lost... With one parent gone, and the other inept, he had always been lost, and yet he’d done alright. He’d found the key. He’d fought the spiders. He saved the inn. He protected the Mali’ker’s ship as they crossed the seas. He helped build their home in Thales. And he had made a family. His last thoughts were of that family. Dak’ir. Della. Elayne. Alakagh. Arveldir. Feyko. Atorio. Yriel. Ituri. Aeltis. Athri. Aunrae and Balaena. All the others. The rain soaked through the birch leaves and the river began to buck its banks. He closed his eyes and everything was over. In Alras, a mali'ker baby with purple hair awoke shrieking, frightened by the crashing thunder outside, and in time, a white haired girl came to comfort her. The wine stained children of Thilliv crawled onwards into the future for another generation, bereft the wisdom of the last. ((I'm sad to go, guys, but I know I won't have time to get on in college, so I'm finishing up Lenden's story. Maybe I'll be back again. I've loved RPing with all of you, and I know I'll remember it fondly off at school. Van'ayla everyone.))

First of all, love it! Second, will the chests be unlocked or will we need to modreq?

Name: Lenden Are you a citizen?: Yessir. Are you moving in with friends or family?: Nope. Lenden is totally forever alone.

Lenden hands a sheet of paper to Dak'ir. "It's Atorio's," he says, "Atorio couldn't seem to find the application box. It must have gotten misplaced in the move, but I think he checks out and we really need some new blood." ((He's having trouble logging into the forums. Application to the Div’cruan Name: Atorio Vallumullr Age: Three hundred and seventy-six. You must live within the city of Ker’lomi. Do you?: Yes. Skills: Inexperienced cutter of trees. (Bungling Lumberjack)

MC Name: --- LinkKN2 Your Full Name: --- Lenden Your Age: --- 21 Your Gender: --- Male, damn it! Are you already a citizen? --- Yup. What skills do you have? Would you be willing to join the guard? --- Lenden's a skilled fisherman, breeder, builder, sailor and pickpocket. Lenden is already a sergeant in the guard. Are you moving in alone or with family/friends? --- You're all my friends <3 Are you of full Mali'ker blood? --- Maybe. Who knows? Have you previously been wanted by Haelun'or? --- No Do you agree to abide by the laws of Haelun'or and the Concordat? --- Sure will!

As Lenden sat atop the mainsail, adjusting the rigging, he took a moment to look around at the forest of masts about him. There was the Uruk's ship, and Oren's. There was Alras, there were the halflings. He went up and down the bay noting each banner he saw, but one was missing. There was no ship for the snow elves. Lenden hadn't paid much attention to what had happened between Haelun'or and the snow elves. He had been much too busy with his new home among the Mali'ker. He was glad he had left Celia'Fenn. If he hadn't, he'd never have found his new family! But all the same, he wondered what became of his old friend Gabe. He hoped he was alright. Maybe as they were sailing towards the new land, he'd spot another mast far off behind, from a ship that had been built in secret in some cove or other away from the hateful eyes of the other elves. He didn't dwell on it for too long. He had a lot of work to do, and it was cold so high above the deck, bright with fires and friends below. He had a home now, and Gabe played a part in getting him there. Lenden hoped that whether in Thales, or the new land, his Mali'fenn friends would find a home as warm as his.

Name: Lenden Age: 21 Do you live in Ker'Lomi: I don't think that's what we're calling the new city, is it? But you know I live in the ravine. Skills: Lenden isn't much of a fighter, but he's very good with a bow, very smart, and can be very stealthy due to years as a pickpocket and gang member in Alras. He's also an experienced sailor.

Hey there! I guess this has been happening to a lot of people, but when we made the switch to 3.75, I was turned into a Wandering Soul again. I've been a player on the server a while, I hope you will reinstate me? Thanks in advance!

Markus sat alone in the second pew of the Church of Saint Adeodatus in Kaldonia, staring at his lap and holding a cold cloth on the sizable lump forming on the top of his head from the fight he had just gotten in with two members of the Caerngard. The beating that started with Markus spitting at the feet of one of the Caerngard eventually ended with a bystander dropping a brick on his head. He knew if Steward Theodosius hadn't intervened, he'd have had it even that much worse. What kind of men were these soldiers of Oren, who could swear to protect someone one day, then burn them to death the next? Markus still couldn't quite think straight, and he hoped the creator might offer him some answers, but none came. None ever seemed to come from the creator anymore.

Brother Markus Wander - Human - LinkKN2

As Markus Wander sat atop the parapets of the keep, watching the Lucienists mill about in the city below, he suddenly remembered, "General Lorethos's last words to me were giving me my oath as a brother of the League." The revelation nearly made him lose his balance, and he put his head in his hands to recover from the vertigo. He didn't know quite what to make of this information. He wasn't used to being part of a legacy, but he knew that it meant something. Something had to be done. Markus was a brother of the league now, and for General Lorethos, who saw so much potential in him, he would do... Something. He got up from the parapet, more carefully now than when he sat upon it, grounded by the weight of expectation, and went to find Sergeant Mason.

Name: Markus ((Mc name)): LinkKN2 Experience (Brief): Markus has developed survival skills through his many journeys wandering in search of the man who owes him a debt. He's fought as a freelancer in multiple battles. ((Skype name)): Kevinguy247 Do you have loyalties to any other groups or orders: Nope! Rank: None

(The events and conversations of these journal entries all actually happened over the last few days. Feel free to interpret it as you like. I would be honored if someone wanted to turn all this into a story arc. I know it's told from Adam's perspective and disappearances are particularly important to his character, but the idea of Undead capturing and experimenting on people is one that can be relevant to every character. Journal entries were my best way of showing the idea.) Journal of Adam Wolfe, Day 37 since leaving home. Last night, several towns in the north were ransacked by mysterious undead sorcerers. My brash and in this case, downright stupid sense of nobility led me to travel to the north with a band of soldiers to help in the efforts to defend the settlements. Through the night and the thick brush, I was seperated from my companions, with only the faint glow of an inferno reflected in the snow clouds ahead of me. As I traveled, alone, through through the darkness, I noticed a figure atop the trees, then a flash and he was gone. For a moment, I thought it to be my eyes playing tricks on me, but I would soon learn how wrong I was. I heard an unsettling cackle and as I turned around, atop another tree was the same figure, in his black cloak, trimmed in deep red. Blood red. I gripped my bow, though I only had about eight or nine arrows and prepared for an attack. But, just as swiftly as he appeared, he was gone again. This wasn't the first time I had seen the man, however. A few days earlier I had been at the bakery in Al'Khazar. The queen and a nobleman were outside as well, and the hooded man. One of the nobles addressed him. "What business does an undead like yourself have in Al'Khazar?" Or something of the like. I hadn't thought much of it, I've met some very strange kinds of people on my journey. But looking back, it was unmistakably the same man. Later, I found my way to a town, or rather what was a town. It was burned to the ground, the wall to the right of the front gate was a pile of cinders and gravel. I was about to turn back when a ranger named Egrond pulled me into the cover of a tree. He showed me his lair, underneath the old ruins of a watchtower. He gave me arrows and he said that he and I were to retake the city. I should have dismissed him as a madman right there but I was exhausted, lost and so lucky to see another living human being I would have agreed to anything. We made our way back to the town and climbed over the ruined wall. Not a single structure in the town had escaped being set ablaze. Sweating in my old, leather armor, I followed Egrond inside. But no sooner had we made our way to the main square that we were seperated by a lightning bolt. There again was the man in the black cloak. I'm sure he saw me but he paid little attention. He raised his hands and corpses began tunneling their way up through the ground. I fired at them, furiously, but to no avail. Not a single had fell before a blue flash made my body go numb. The next thing I remember, I was in the temple of Aegis, where monks were tending to my wounds. As I sit here in the care of the monks, I realize I'm lucky to be alive. I wonder if Egrond was so lucky. I wonder if my brother is so lucky. Journal of Adam Wolfe Day 45 since leaving home. On my journeys, I met an elf who planted an idea into my head about my brother, Fionn. I told him how I had been searching for him since he disappeared on a trip to Al'Khazar last year to deliver our family's crops to market. I told him of the nightmares I had been having each night where he calls to me from a dungeon, begging me to save him. I told him of how the chill in my bones and the inhuman sense of dread that accompanies the dreams is the same that I felt when the hooded man stood above me in the trees. I told him how I had no clues. That there was not even any sign of the cart my brother had taken on his journey. The elf told me that his people called what happened in my dream occlumency, when someone magically invades your thoughts. He said my brother was sending me a message through my dreams that he needed help. Though, I never knew my brother to have been anything more than a simple farmer like the rest of my family, I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibilities. He went on to say that the undead may have some unknown use for those with a proficiency for magic. He said my brother may have been taken as a lab experiment. While I cringe to think of the implications of that conclusion, it could hold water. I'll explain. Up until this conversation, my best clue was given to me by a friend, Pyrofuzion, a member of the Holmes Detective Agency. He said that there had been many reported disappearances of late and that his agency believed it to be bandits stalking The King's Road. That would make sense, however, I've noticed something odd. These people that are disappearing, no one has appeared demanding a ransom. Normally, a bandit wouldn't take a hostage unless they wanted to trade them for something but no bandit has stepped up to make a trade, so whoever wants these people wants them for different reasons. That led me to another question. When I went up in the north, the town Egrond and I found was completely empty, save the Sorcerers and their minions. There were no refugees running into the woods, no screaming, no soldiers, no bodies. It was all quiet. There was no sign anyone had even been present when the attack took place. After this conversation, I ran to Al'Khazar to alert the Queen of my hypothesis. Unfortunately, however, just as I arrived the sorcerers attacked Al'Khazar. Myself and many others fought through the night in the frigid rain and managed to beat back the evil dead in the battle and in its aftermath, the queen was too busy treating the wounded and dispatching patrols to weed out any remaining enemies to listen to me. I came back later to speak with her again. I told her about my idea. She gave a very curt response, "Even if it is true that the sorcerers are capturing people, there's very little we can do about it right now." I don't believe she cares very much. But I will not stop until my family is reunited and whether I have the help of the kingdom of Oren or not, I will find a way to know the truth about where my brother and all of the others have gone.