Firean the Dark Rider
Flavor Quote
My ancestors blood thunders through my veins as my steed thunders across the open savannah and my blades in battles. I am Valenar and you shall tremble before my charge as the giants did before my ancestors. My honour my life, my horse my child, my blade my guiding light.
Background
[sblock=Background]To tell the history of a Valenar elf you must tell the story of his ancestor. Firean the Dark Rider rode across the lands of Xen’drik, a mighty warrior atop a lean black warhorse. His double bladed scimitar would lash out left and right to sever the tendons in the giants as he thundered past, blazing with an unholy fire it would set fire to the creatures leaving them as cinders in his wake. Firean was a paragon of power, his blades brought death to all his enemies. When the dragons struck their fires washed over him, leaving him untouched. Thus it was said that Firean rode one last time against the hordes of the giants and power of the dragons, the hooves of his mount aflame, to ensure the escape of his people. He was never found, no record of his glorious blade or armor has ever turned up, only the myth of the Dark Rider persists.
Firean was born in 870 YK on the island of Aerenal as Aeraes. The elves held disdain for chaos of the five nations, they saw what would erupt into years of bloodshed. Upon his 24th year the Last War breaks out, the day that Aeraes first takes up the reigns of a horse. He smoothly mounted a horse who had never received proper training, rode swift as the wind up to a hillock and then as he spun around, the spirit of the Dark Rider encompassed him. A dark nimbus surrounded him, overlaid upon the elfchild was the phantom of a great elven warrior, eyes afire, a double bladed scimitar held low ready for a charge and each thundering step of the mount left a momentary blaze of fire upon the earth. The elves fell back from the apparition as the mounted legend rode down upon them. With a crash a blow of lightning struck the earth and thunder shook the skies. The elves fell back once more, but when there eyes rose the elfchild sat passive upon the horse, oblivious to the fright the onlookers had witnessed.
In the following years the diviners and great undying ancestors looked into the fate of this child, finally upon his 50th year, he underwent the ritual of renaming which would bind him to the spirit of his great ancestor, the Dark Rider.
When the mercenary elves of Aerenal splintered off and took hold of the land that would come to be known as the Valenar, one of the undying councilors was visited by the great Dark Rider. He was told to send this incarnation to the new lands for he would one day bring the glory of the ancient continent down upon this new land. Firean was sent off that day.
Firean finished the years of his youth riding tirelessly across the great plains of Valenar, becoming an accomplished rider and warrior. For the mount he had first taken reign of, had become the line of Valenar horses to which he would be ever indebted to care for. He has seen to it that the lineage of his mount runs true like the flow of time, that he were the first to ride each member of the line.
When in 994 YK Cyre was destroyed, the Day of Mourning occurred again the Dark Rider visited. This time he came only to Firean. His words came like claps of fire and brimstone,
“ride unto the land of men, take only your voice and your child, for our people will once again hear the thunder of our charge, but the lands of our people leave you soft and unwise. You shall leave the lands of Valenar and Aerenal. Forge glory out of the hides of our enemies and be reborn finally as the Dark Rider.”
Taking up voice and child, blade and mount, Firean left the lands of Valenar. Skirting the horrors of the Mournland he rode to the docks of Pylas Maradal, exchanged what odd items of value he had purloined in the years upon the Blade Desert for passage from there to as far as it would carry him. The docks he landed upon where in the harsh land of Darguun. He took upon his reigns and rode hard out of that accursed land, fighting when it came to that. He lived alone upon the road.
He crossed the Seawall Mountains, forging a path in the wilderness across those bleak lands. He reached the lands of the gnomes, Zilargo. He rode on, hard through their country with suspicious eyes always upon the lone rider who chose to ride in the hours of twilight and dusk. Then down through the King’s Forest until he came upon the City of Towers, Sharn.
Travelers were common in the City of Towers, thus Firean eased his way into the city. It had taken him a year to cross the mountains, Zilarge and the through the King’s Forest on his own. However, he had learned a great deal that the coddling of his brethren would not have allowed. Yet the travels had worn his straps thin and his clothing bare.
For the first time in his life, Firean took up a profession. At first he was merely a hired sword upon the caravans which would travel from Sharn into Zilargo or on up to Wroat for those who could not afford the luxuries of the Lightning Rail. However, his skills soon marked him as a powerful warrior and keen eyed scout and guide. He soon lead caravans on their journeys rather than act as a body shield for the goods. The year led on and he tired of such petty work.
Striking out from the city of Sharn and traveling upon his faithful Valenar mare, he rode northwest into the Eldeen Reaches and the Shadow Marches, crossing the lands of Droaam upon pounding hooves.
Time for many an elf is measured in the passing of decades and centuries rather than the flight of lone years, yet for Firean, each day was spent without neglect or the failing of attention upon all details of his solitary path towards being reborn as the Dark Rider. In the span of hundreds of days he soon found himself once more at the gates of Sharn. It was as if centuries had passed, for time alone creates a boundary between one and others.
When he passed into the gates he was surprised to be handed a letter inviting him to a small fishing village named Tantemar, for some task. Having spent less than an hour in the City of Towers, he turned and pounded out of the gates towards this new task.[/sblock]
Appearance and Personality
[sblock=Appearance and Personality]Firean is attired as a warrior. A black vest with sharp shoulders is pulled tight over a shirt of mithril chain, all of which extends over the loose-flowing garb of the Valenar plains. A quiver of arrows rests upon his hip, while a double bladed scimitar curves anxiously out from both sides of his lower back, and a bone composite bow reaches over the left shoulder. The traditional Valenar curved dagger rests upon his belt in the front. He has the tanned skin of one who has seen years under the sun on the open plains, although little of it can be seen as he is clothed from toe to wrist in flowing white cotton. His keffiyeh is embroidered with black elven scripture, while it shields his head from the sun it also serves to obscure his facial features.
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His mount and his ancestors are of paramount importance to Firean. He is guided by a strict code of honour which he upholds at all times. He is aggressive in his actions and will often answer with steel over words. At times when battle is imminent, he is calm and prepared. When celebration occurs he will not sink back from it, but neither will he overindulge in such vices.
Firean rides towards a destiny which he can only imagine through the visions and voice of the great ancestor spirit of the Dark Rider. To those who meet this fiery eyed elf, it as if he has been summoned out of the Age of Giants. His manners, accent and fighting style all possess an archaic beauty and rhythm which disappeared eons ago.
A purpose fuels his life, one which he lives in every moment as if they were years themselves. This gives him an intensity that few miss.
Honour Code
[sblock=Honour Code]
- Your enemy has forfeited his life in battle but not his honour
- Your death before dishonour
- Your blade is not for the innocent
- Your mount shall be as your child
- Your blade shall never be left to dull
- Your water shall not be spilt idly
- Your care shall be bestowed upon those that drink from your cup till the next sundown
- You shall not let a challenge go unanswered
- You shall grant hospitality to all who arrive at your tent
- You shall honour your ancestors in all your actions
- You shall let none disgrace your kin, mount, ancestors or those in your care
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Abilities
Prominent Abilities: Strength 16, Dexterity 16, Wisdom 14
Prominent Skills: Spot +12, Listen +12, Ride +13
Prominent Feats: Bladebearer of the Valenar, Two-Weapon Fighting, Mounted Combat
[sblock=Full Stat Block]
Name: Firean
Class: Ranger 4
Race: Valenar Elf
Hit Dice: 4d8+4, 30 HP
Initiative: +3
Speed: 30 ft
Armor Class: 18 (10 +5 armor +3 dex)
Base Attack Bonus: +4
Grapple: +7
Attacks: Mwk Double Scimitar +8 (1d6+4), Mwk Comp Longbow +8 (1d8+3)
Full Attack: Mwk Double Scimitar +6/+6 (1d6+3/1d6+1), Mwk Comp Longbow +8 (1d8+3)
Face/Reach: 5x5/5ft
Special Qualities: Elven traits, Low-light vision, Wild Empathy, Animal Companion
Special Attacks: Favored Enemy: Human (+2)
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +7, Will +3
Abilities: Strength 16, Dexterity 16, Constitution 12, Intelligence 10, Wisdom 14, Charisma 13
Skills: Ride +13, Handle Animal +6, Spot +12, Listen +12, Survival +10, Search +7, Hide +6, Move Silently +6
Feats: Bladebearer of the Valenar, Track, Two-Weapon Fighting, Endurance, Mounted Combat
Action Points: 7
Languages: Common, Elven
Alignment: Neutral (Lawful Neutral)
Deity: Ancestors
Gender: Male
Age: 128 years
Height: 5 ft. 4 in.
Weight: 105 lb.
Inventory:
Masterwork Double Scimitar (725gp, 15lb)
Masterwork Comp (+3) Longbow (700gp, 2lb)
Quiver (40 arrows) (2gp, 6lb)
Mithril Shirt +1 (2100gp, 10lb)
Cold Iron Kukri (16gp, 2lb)
X lbs, light load (X lbs medium, X lbs heavy, X lbs max)
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), so it'll sometimes be a little hard to get some really captivating sentences going. I do, however, think that I'm doing pretty well and I've always been a very aware of my grammar in other languages. I don't hope any of this makes me ill suited for this game.
