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Exclusive Contest! Todd Lockwood draws your character! [NO MORE ENTRIES!]

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Kai Lord

Hero
Goddess FallenAngel said:
But, my question is:

I have noticed a lot of people posting character backgrounds. While I don't mind this, as it is fun to read, I would like to know if you and Todd will be taking them into account when you choose the final 20. I don't wish to post my character's background unless it is going to be taken into account for the contest (because she is still being played in our game and I don't wish the other players to stumble across certain information by accident), or if the contest is on physical and personality descriptions only. Please reply so we can all know for future reference!

Thanks!
Goddess FallenAngel
First off, welcome to the boards! Glad to see all the new "faces" on this thread. To answer your question, no, character backgrounds aren't necessary. However, I am reading each and every one and will reread them all when its closer to the time to make the final decisions.

The main judging point is the look of the character, but anything else that catches my eye or just makes me think, "yeah let's give this guy or girl a shot" will be taken into consideration.

If it comes down to two cool looking characters of a similar type, and one of them is just a collection of stats and the other has a lot of extra characterization, background, and reason they love their character, I would be more likely to choose the latter, since part of this thread is just a celebration of your favorite characters and part of the reason we play the game.

Unlike the WOTC Setting Search, there are no rules for how to present your entry, just post away and have fun!
 

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Darth Shoju

First Post
character

This is awesome. Kai Lord you are the best.

K so here are the basic stats on my character:

Haldiir Kaldeskyre
Human Male, Chaotic Good
Barbarian 5, Fighter 5
STR 18 DEX 16 CON 20 INT 10 WIS 12 CHA 08
HP 116 AC 18 SPD 40 ft

Haldiir's full character sheet can be seen at:
http://www.fggs.org/campaigns/greyhawk/csheetview.php?id=14

Physical Description

Haldiir stands 6'3" in height and weighs about 220 lbs. He is 24 years old. His hair is black, although he keeps it cut to about half an inch to avoid having it used against him in fights. His eyes are ice blue. His physique is that of a life dedicated to combat and manual labour; well-muscled but not overly bulky, built for strength and durability. He has a wardog tatoo on his left shoulder, basically a black death's head with dog ears. A jagged scar runs from beside his left eye down to his jawline, a memento from a fight with a skeleton. His nose has been broken several times, a feature that has done little to improve his grim features.

Haldiir wears a chain shirt for armour, accompanied by an open-faced helm with a nose guard. The helm features two large black horns mounted on the sides that curve down to stand out 4-6 inches from his face. He will not say what creature the horns came from, but he insists that it was "not very pleasant.". His primary weapon is a keen greatsword +1, a sturdy though nameless weapon given to him by his former master. He also carries a heavy mace and a mighty composite longbow. His clothes are simple but sturdy traveling gear. Being a rather superstitious man, he wears a black feather around his neck that he waves at anything he feels is bad luck or evil. Most people assume that it is a raven or crow feather, but if asked Haldiir will explain it is actually a chicken feather. When pressed as to the effectiveness of a chicken feather in warding off evil or foul luck, Haldiir simply shrugs and says: "It was a black chicken. It tasted good. That seems lucky somehow."

Haldiir wears a ring on each hand. On his right hand is a Ring of Protection +1 which is just a simple bronze ring. On his left hand is a silver ring set with a triangular azure gemstone. This is a ring that bestows the protection against mind-control and possesion of the Protection From Evil spell, although only on effects/spells produced by evil creatures. He wears an Amulet of Natural Armour +1 around his neck, a bone disk carved in the shape of a turtle shell. Haldiir also wears a plain brown traveling cloak which is actually a Cloak of Resistance +1.

Background

Haldiir was born in the Barrens to a clan of Rovers called Clan Ice Wolf. In accordance with the harsh life lead by his people, he was taught how to survive from the time he took his first steps. He fought bravely in the Greyhawk wars and was made a wardog thereafter, as much for the fact he survived as for his fighting prowess. A couple years later, his village was wiped out by a horde of fiends and humanoids from the lands of Iuz. His survival was miraculous and was mostly due to his powerful constitution. He wandered for weeks afterward in a state of near-madness, living in the forests as little more than an animal. Eventually he made his way back to his village to see it's deceased residents being raised as undead by a priest of Iuz. In a rage, Haldiir drove through the hordes of undead and killed the priest before being overwhelmed.

Haldiir was found and rescued by a traveling company of rangers. The company left him in the care of a hermit swordmaster. Haldiir was a very reluctant student, but eventually the old master taught him some hard lessons on swordsmanship and learning to focus his rage in battle. After a year of study, Haldiir left his master behind, determined to find the ranger company that saved his life and repay to them his lifedebt. Unfortunately he never found them, but discovered that they had been wiped out in an ambush, save for their youngest member. Following news of the young man's travels, Haldiir soon made his way south, looking to repay the debt of his life.

Personality

Haldiir was bred for war and survival and has become rather good at both. When in the company of friends he is most often a jovial companion, but he is also prone to great bouts of melancholy. He shares the often nihilistic philosophy of the Rovers, a paradox that seems to combine a constant struggle for survival with a desire to end it in a grand gesture of futility. However, his love of life is great and in general he would rather die doing something useful than pointless.

Being from the Barrens, Haldiir's understanding of etiquette is rather limited. He has great respect for straight-forward, hard-working people (usually commoners or middle-class). He has a secret interest in the intricacies of political maneuvering, but finds that although he understands them, his charismatic shortcomings prevent him from engaging in such maneuvers. As a result he tends to greet politicians and their plotting with his typical gruff demeanor and a curt reply. His lack of manners is not due to any type of malice on his part, rather a simple ignorance of the customs of "civilized" lands. However, when others point out his breaches of social mores he is rarely in a mood to appologize.

Haldiir loves drinking and singing, although his love of the former tends to get him in the most trouble. He also revels in a good fist-fight and is far more likely start one while drunk. His mood swings are also heightened while inebriated, and he usually progresses quickly from happiness to depression.

Ultimately Haldiir is a very loyal companion, and is willing to die for those he respects. He is a born warrior and is quick to defend the innocent and his friends and allies. He is wary of politicians and nobility and shows no patience for their dealings (despite his respect for the challenging intricacy of political intrigue). He is nearly fearless, and will only back down from a fight if faced with overwhelming odds and his retreat will not result in the deaths of innocents or allies. He dispatches the undead at any opportunity, although more out of a sense of duty to their souls than any hatred. He has a healthy respect for the danger of fiends and will avoid them unless there is no choice.

"I am Haldiir Kaldeskyre. I was born to Clan Ice Wolf. I am a Rover. I am a Wardog. I am the Raging Wind of the North. I have fought fiends, madmen and the walking dead. I was sent by your gods to punish your weakness. I am Haldiir Kaldeskyre, Wardog. I am the last thing you will ever see." -A quote attributed to Haldiir from the Elf Skull Inn, moments before he brutally murdered a tough-talking barstool.


Thanks!!
 
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Arravis

First Post
So Kai Lord, you're going to leave us in suspense of who are the top "10" or "20" until August? That's alot of anticipation :p.
 

Kai Lord

Hero
Arravis said:
So Kai Lord, you're going to leave us in suspense of who are the top "10" or "20" until August?

That's the plan. I myself won't know who the top 10 are until August since the final decisions won't be made until then. :cool:

Arravis said:
That's alot of anticipation :p.
I imagine the suspense will simmer as the weeks go by, but I'll bump the thread each month until the end of July when I start choosing the finalists. This gives everyone plenty of time to create and play new characters they might want to enter. :D
 

Arravis

First Post
Damn... I have enough competition as it is! ;).

Actualy, I've had alot of fun reading all the descriptions and bio's and I'm thinking of including a few of those characters as NPC's in some of my games :)
 

Erebus Red

First Post
Character

Character: Fay
Race: Elf
Location: Forgotten Realms

Apparence: Fay is the rose of the forest, with long golden hair and the face of an angel. Born of a long noble line her expressions, gestures and posture always suggests great grace and regality.

Clothes and Equipment: Dressed in the finest Elven chain-mail and the sacred medallion that is a family heirloom. But in contrast to the beauty of her attire and appearence, Fay's weapons are incredibly harsh and crude. Her long sword has a cruel cerated edge and her arrows are barbed.

Character traits: Noble, Vain, Protective, Brutal

Brief History: Claiming her birthright as a special 'protector' of the Elven community, Fay set about the work of her ancestors defending her homeland with three equally honoured companions. However, a life of noble privilage had not prepared Fay for the harshness of life as a warrior and gradually she became more and more a mirror of the evil powers she fought against.
 

Knightfall

World of Kulan DM
My fourth submission!

Ok, I don't have character stats for this one so I'll have to just let my writing speak for itself. This character is from the same world as my Spears character. However, while Spears is the wild, unkempt sort who has never been comfortable in a city environment, Uhtmar is a character that adapted well to the civilized way of life.

Uhtmar Umal-Arak, Son of Retinsal of Biacc
The Warrior of Delvir Shrine, Steam Knight of Da’aphet

Uhtmar is a large minotaur that was born on the island of Biacc. His life started out as a savage one and he spent several years living and fighting for the savage hordes of the Sermath'kah. Eventually Uhtmar was captured and made a slave by the dispictable steam knight, Sir Winston Treblet.

But as you will read, Uhtmar's destiny would not be as a slave, but as a hero...

Warning: This is a little long but posting only part of the story takes away from the character's overall history and background. Plus it's a cool story. :D

Horns of Honor
By Robert Blezard

“Mother,” Sanin sat down next to his Regent Mother on one of the window seats of the Great Bay Window of Palace Hall. “Tell me about the Warrior of Delvir Shrine.”

Lady Jenna Kel, Queen of Da’aphet, startled at her son’s words, dropping her book on alchemy. She looked into his eager questioning eyes with some reservation about what she should tell him. It had been so long ago.

“What exactly is it that you want to know about it that you can’t learn from your tutors?”

“Books don’t tell you about a person’s soul, mother.” Sanin was only eight years old but he would tower over his mother once he reached adolescence. “What was he like?”

“He was one of the warrior caste and a servant of Da’aphet. What else do you need to know?”

“Mother,” Sanin put his hand on hers. “He saved your life. Are you telling me he didn’t mean anything to you?”

She sighed in resignation. She’d tell him the truth. He deserved that as her son.

“Alright,” Lady Kel patted her son’s hand, staring out over the great medieval steam metropolis of Da’aphet. “I’ll tell you.”

Sanin watched as his mother placed the alchemy book on the dialer table beside her. She punched the correct sequence for the book and it was magically transported across the city to the Great Library of Da’aphet. She tapped the dialer’s controls again and a new book appeared on the small table.

She picked up her personal journal, which she had placed in her own private library years ago. The leather still smelled new thanks to the enchantments placed upon the book and the library. She undid the three-clip clasp that bound the book together. She opened the book and began to read out loud to her son.

* * *

Jenna Hallin stood on the edge of her father’s combustible carriage, the steam billowing out from underneath the noisy contraption. She wished her father would get rid of the awful thing and travel by simple horse and buggy like her grandparents had.

Yes, steam technology had its uses but this awful thing was ruining her hair and skin. It was also humiliating, a Princess Consort forced to travel in such a common vehicle while her royal friends traveled in real luxury.

But, father insisted saying that combustible carriages would replace the horse and buggy the same way combustible sky skiffs had replaced old steam balloons. She could see the similarities but wouldn’t accept it. When she was queen…

”Jenna,” her father climbed up into the carriage on the driver’s side, put his foot on the brake and pulled several of the levers in front of him, which pitched the carriages combustible engine into life. “Please sit down, you’re making a scene!”

“Oh father,” Jenna smoothed out her petticoat sitting ladylike in her seat. The hard silicon wood was horribly uncomfortable. “Don’t be such a old fussy.”

“Now, now child,” Victor Hallin looked at his daughter, his spectacles balanced precariously on his nose. “It is not wise to appear undignified or be such a baby. Remember, I’m still your father, Princess Consort or not!”

Her father lifted his foot of the steamer’s brake and the carriage bucked forward like a wounded beetle walker. The carriage rolled slowly and bumpily over the cobblestone below. Townsfolk cleared the way as the carriage approached and shouted curses as it speed on past leaving the air smelly and hot.

“I’m sorry father,” Jenna bit her lip flapping at the steam billowing around her face. “It’s just, I hate this whole arrangement.”

“You weren’t complaining last summer when Prince Kel asked you to marry him. In fact, you were absolutely giddy. What’s changed?”

“Oh, lots of things,” Jenna didn’t like Prince Kel the way she used to. “Like this war he started with the southern colonies.”

“You can’t blame him for that. They gave us no choice in the matter. Aligning with those Sermath’kah devils from the Seas of Pillars.”

“Oh please,” Jenna sighed in disbelief. “There’s no proof of that.”

“Open your eyes child, the southerners use dark magic on the battlefield and drink the blood of the dead. Surely you’ve heard the stories from the front.”

“I’ve heard a lot of Prince Kel’s propaganda. And that’s all.” Jenna crossed her arms in defiance staring away from her father, watching the buildings fade by as her father sped up the carriage.

Victor sighed shaking his head. He let it go. She’d learn the truth once they reached Delvir Shrine. The steamer lurched through the North Gate of Leahan towards the Coast of Chuol. From there she would witness the southern battlefields through the Shrine’s seeing mirror. She would not doubt the Shrine’s magic.

The carriage rolled more easily over the packed earth of the road then it had over the cobblestone streets of Leahan.

Ahead a column of soldiers marched along the road. The sun shining off the reinforced steel armor and shields of the soldiers. Victor moved the carriage over to the other side of the road passing the main part of the column. Jenna watched the soldiers with both respect and loathing. She didn’t like war and didn’t see the need for men to throw away their lives over land and the Prince’s politics.

They neared the front of the column and Jenna gasped at the sight she’d only ever heard of. A large man wearing the garb of a Steam Knight sat proudly on a cyborg-horse. His armor covered him completely, steam billowing from the combustion power pack on his back. A steam powered warrior’s gauntlet held the cyborg-horse’s reins while a similarly designed power sword hung at his hip.

“Hello there sir knight,” her father brought the carriage up next to the man’s mount. “Can you tell me how far it is to Delvir Shrine.”

The knight tapped his armor’s control mechanism and the top layer of his armor magically rippled back into the extradimensional space that was part of every set of steam armor. The billow of steam that the suit’s command had issued blocked Jenna’s view of the knight for a moment.

“It is several miles still,” the steam began to dissipate. “Do you and the lady require an escort to the shrine, dear sir.”

The steam lifted and Jenna held her breath. He was breathtaking. Wide shoulders, dark red hair and a dazzling smile.

“That’s very kind of you, Sir-“ Jenna’s father paused not knowing the man’s name.

“Treblet, Sir Winston Treblet as your service, my good man.” He nodded in Jenna’s direction with a smile. “And who might I be escorting today?”

“I am Victor Hallin and this is my daughter, Lady Jenna Hallin.” Jenna’s father made the introduction as if addressing the Prince himself.

“The Princess Consort,” Sir Treblet bowed his head in reverence. “I am honored to meet my future queen.”

“Thank you, Sir Treblet.” Jenna noticed something walking on the other side of the knight’s mount, it’s head and body covered. “What is that?”

“Oh this… this is Uhtmar, my pet.” Sir Treblet pulled on the creature’s chain and it growled under it’s covering. “I assure you, it is quite under my control.”

“I have no doubt,” Jenna licked her lips at the knight’s calm exterior and self-assurance. “Where are you from?”

“I come from the southern lands,” Sir Treblet noticed Victor’s shocked expression. “I found myself on the wrong side of the war near the beginning and pledged my power sword to Da’aphet.”

“A southerner fighting against the colonies, that’s unheard of.” Jenna’s father was suspicious.

“So I’ve heard.” Sir Treblet’s voice seemed far away… almost forlorn. “War is a heavy deed that separates friends, even relatives. My brother fights for the south.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jenna wished she could reach out to him more but her station wouldn’t allow it. She was the Princess Consort, after all.

“It is all right,” Sir Treblet perked at her concern. “He will see the light one day, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, you can always hope.” Jenna’a father brought the carriage to a halt, as the road divided. “I didn’t realize that this road spilt here. Do you know the way, Sir Treblet?”

“Yes, the Shrine is to the west. I will lead the way. Come Uhtmar!” The knight’s beast growled walking hunched over next to its master.

Jenna paid the beast no mind, her eyes fixed upon the Steam Knight, as he lead his cyborg-mount onto the west road. Yes, steam technology had its benefits.

* * *

Jenna’s hair bun was a disaster by the time they reached the coast. She removed the pins holding it in place letting her auburn hair drift in the breeze. Her father had been appalled by her brazen display, at least that’s what he said.

“You must keep up appearances child. After all-“

“Yes, I know!” Jenna lost her temper. “I am the Princess Consort! That’s all you and I ever talk about anymore, I’m sick of it!”

Jenna eyes swelled up with tears and she bound off the carriage, running towards the coast. Victor sighed bringing the combustible to a stop.

“Is something the matter,” Sir Treblet brought his half-mechanical steed up next to the combustible. “Why is she so distraught?”

“It’s the same old thing, really. She doesn’t want to marry the Prince anymore because of the war and the man’s politics and beliefs.”

“I see.” Sir Treblet watched as the young miss ran across the grass of the cliff side. “Well, we certainly can’t have her running off alone can we. I will see to her with your permission, dear sir.”

“Granted,” Victor sat back in the carriage, frustrated. “I can’t control her anymore.”

“Come Uhtmar!” The knight’s set his horse in gallop to catch up with Jenna. The beast ran along side using its legs and arms to help propel it.

Sir Treblet understood why she would balk at an arranged marriage. The custom was centuries old. However, the Prince was an important man. His will alone drove the soldiers of the north to fight against terrible odds and the evil flooding the south from the Sea of Pillars.

“Dear lady,” He brought his mount to a halt several yards away from Jenna. “You should not be wandering out in this region alone. These are dangerous times.”

The beast, Uhtmar, stayed next to the knight’s mount.

She was walking with her hands over face. She had obviously been crying. He felt bad for her. She didn’t love the Prince at all and would be alone in his company.

“How can I do this?” She turned towards him her face red from tears and sorrow. “How can I marry someone I barely know.”

“It is your duty, dear lady.” Sir Treblet shook his head with a sigh. “You cannot back out now. Not with the ceremony less than two months away.”

“Sir Treblet… Winston, do you find me beautiful?”

“Of course, what a silly question. You are the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. Otherwise the Prince would not have chose you.”

“I didn’t ask what the Prince thought, I asked you what you thought.” Jenna rolled her eyes at the density of men.

“Yes, but it isn’t proper to speak of such things.”

“Why not,” Jenna ran up next to him holding her petticoat up high enough so that it didn’t pick up grass and dirt inside. “Who says what is proper for the Kingdom’s next Queen?”

“The Code and the King, dear lady,” Sir Treblet was nervous with her so close.

She was such a small petit thing with eyes as blue as Lake Autumnweed in his homeland. He liked her, he’d felt it the moment he’d met her. But his honor as a Steam Knight held his tongue and his lust.

“Oh fudge,” Jenna turned and stalked off towards the carriage. “The one man I've met who I really want won’t take me because of his honor and damn Code!”

“Princess Consort, you must not speak of such things,” Sir Treblet reached out grabbing a hold of her arms shaking her. “You belong to the Prince and no one else!”

“Let go of me,” Jenna was trapped in his grip. “You’re hurting me.”

Uhtmar growled taking two steps towards them. The beast’s chains rattled in defiance of its cruel master.

“Do you have something to say, Uhtmar? Or do I need to punish you again for your disobedience!” In that moment, the handsome young man became horrid to her, as she realized what lay beneath the cloth covering the beast... no, the beast-man.

“No, master,” Uhtmar’s voice entered Jenna’s ears and she saw the knight for what he was.

“You bastard,” Jenna tried to pull away from him looking back towards her father. “You have a slave! That’s barbarous! How can you chain up a sentient thing?”

Sir Treblet let her go and she fell to the ground. He stood over her anger seething in his eyes. He looked at Uhtmar and began laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jenna was sick. How could she have liked this man?

“Uhtmar isn’t one of the Ethma'rieluna, child. He’s a minotaur. He was born a slave and he will die a slave. It is his life.”

“That's no life!” She felt like she was going to vomit. “I will tell the Prince and you will be hung for your crime!”

“The Prince knighted me himself, with my slave at my side.” Sir Treblet laughed cruelly. “He wouldn’t dare think of freeing Uhtmar. Otherwise, he’d lose one of his best knights. There are other wars to fight on Rielun besides this one. I don’t have to stay here.”

“You haven’t any loyalty at all.”

“Ah not true, dear lady.” He shook his finger at her. “I am loyal to the Prince and all the money that he pays me to fight against my kin. War may be a nasty business, but it pays handsomely.”

“Your nothing but a mercenary in a fancy suit of armor.” Jenna spat at him.

He wiped his chin raising his hand to hit her. Then they heard it. A clarion calls from across the road. Sir Treblet spun to see nearly a dozen Sermath'kah riders pouring out of the tall grass. Goblins and orcs every one of them.

“At last, something to kill.” Sir Treblet mounted his horse riding off towards the enemy. He left Jenna to fend for herself dragging Uhtmar with him.

Jenna watched in horror as the Sermath’kah overran her father’s carriage, knocking him to the ground.

“Father,” Jenna screamed running towards him.

An orc devil rider swung his mace, shattering the man’s skull before he could find his feet. Jenna slid to a halt watching as her father died in front of her eyes.

The column of soldiers that had been traveling with them turned to face the devil riders of the Sea of Pillars. Steamlock pistols flared and swords flashed as the soldiers met the Sermath’kah head on. Soon Sir Treblet was among in the front his steam powered sword slicing through flesh and blood like a hot knife through soft biscuits. His gauntlet flashed powerful elemental magic burning the riders and their steeds into charred bits that waft across the road. Jenna became sick retching as the smell of death. She backed away from the grisly scene, unable to believe her eyes.

Then they came. Hundreds of southern soldiers and Sermath’kah through a magic portal overrunning the small force of northern troops. The northern soldiers fought bravely but died horribly as steam-powered cannons ripped through their armor and flesh.

Sir Treblet sounded the retreat riding back towards Jenna scooping her up without protest. She couldn’t move. Uhtmar ran beside his master's cyborg-horse. As they ran the gauntlet of enemy troops along the edge of the sea cliff.

“Uhtmar, nothing must get through. Do you understand?” The knight sheathed his sword, pulled his pistol from his boot and shot two charging riders.

“I understand, master.” The minotaur slave threw off his cloth coverings, pulling a great axe from a sling on his back. “Come to me dark ones and I shall show you true darkness!”

The minotaur’s horns rose three feet over his cow-like head, his limbs covered in dark black fur. He wore nothing except his harness, as his hide was as hard as any leather armor. He roared in defiance at the oncoming horde rushing to meet them.

The Sermath’kah kept coming but the human southern soldiers bolted in fear.

“Aren’t you going to help him?” Jenna worried the beast-man would die against so many.

“It matters not,” Sir Treblet tapped his cyborg-horse’s control keys and the half-robotic beast speed into a blinding gallop. “He is a warrior slave, this is his duty.”

Sir Treblet fired again into an orc devil’s torso.

“He’ll die!”

“Maybe.” Sir Treblet looked back towards his minotaur slave. “But I can always get another warrior slave.”

The knight fired again and again hitting enemy soldiers with deadly precision

“I hate you,” Jenna balled her fists punching at her vile protector.

The Steam Knight laughed, while somewhere in the distance a minotaur slave roared in pain.

* * *

They rode all night to the Shrine, in order to warn the cities of the north. At least that was Sir Treblet’s goal. Jenna just wanted to get to the Shrine and get away from the knight. She thought of Uhtmar lying dead somewhere or worse.

The Shrine was more like a steam technology way station, standing on the top of a small hill near the coast. It had a combustible engine at its heart, nearly six feet in diameter. The magical energy it produced would seal the damage done to Sir Treblet’s steam armor as well as heal his body.

It could do nothing for Jenna’s heavy soul.

“Father,” Jenna crumbled at the edge of the Shrine’s entryway.

“Oh stop that,” Sir Treblet rolled his eyes at her weeping. “At least he didn’t suffer.”

“You bastard,” Jenna buried her head in her arms. “How can you be so damn unfeeling.”

“Well,” Sir Treblet looked at her wondering why she worried about the dead. It didn’t make any sense to him. But then he was from the south and northerners were different, strange people. “To my people, death is like having a slave for the first time. It can be painful and messy sometimes but one gets used to it eventually.”

“Uh,” Jenna turned away from him. “You are so sick.”

“Do not judge what you do not understand, child. Having slaves has been a tradition in my homeland for generations.”

“It’s wrong,” Jenna wasn’t even going to try and reason with him.

“In your mind because that’s all you know,” Sir Treblet walked deeper into the Shrine looking for its seeing mirror. “Now keep an eye out, child. They still might be out there.”

Jenna wanted to pummel the man. He was so conceited, so sure of himself. Jenna remembered that it was his self-confidence that had made him seem attractive in the first place. She’d have to remember to look deeper the next time. Look for the clues that all ‘noble’ men hide behind.

But what she hated most was that he was right. At least, about their present situation. If she didn’t keep watch the enemy would catch them unaware. She stood up looking across the Plains of Shulman. She saw only the tall grass and endless sky, which was falling to twilight.

She shivered at the thought of having to spend the night in this man’s company.

“Ah, here we are. The mirror at last.” Sir Treblet wiped the dust collecting on the seeing mirror. Of course, there wasn’t any real glass in the mirror. Just the magically mesh that would allow him to see all the way to Da’aphet and warn the Prince of the invasion.

He would do his duty, as he was paid to do.

He switched on the control rods, keying in the coordinates for the capital city and the mirror flashed an awful scene around Palace Hall. The city was under siege.

“Damn it,” Sir Treblet pounded his fist against the mirror, destroying it. “It looks like I’m not going to get paid!”

“What are you talking about?” Jenna looked at the ruined mirror. “What did you do?”

“Da’aphet is about to fall and I am without an employer.” He looked at her his loyalty to the Prince gone with his paycheck. “Of course, I still have you.”

“Oh no,” Jenna had never been more frightened in her life. “You wouldn’t dare?”

“Try me,” The Steam Knight stepped toward her, an evil grin revealing his soul. He’d take this wench then sell her in the south. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

He grabbed her hair with his free hand laughing like a madman. She struggled in vain to free herself. Then a gutteral bellow sounded from behind them.

“Ah,” Sir Treblet turned to greet his warrior slave. “I see you’ve survived again, beast. But please be silent why I enjoy myself. If you’re a good cow, I’ll let you have her when I’m done.”

“I don’t think so,” Uhtmar stood with his axe in hand ready to for anything. “Now, let her go!”

“You stupid beast,” Sir Treblet drew his power sword, encasing himself in his full armor. “I am a Steam Knight, not some pathetic goblin or orc devil. I’ll gut you on the first pass, slave!”

“You can try,” Uhtmar raised himself up standing nearly eight feet. “I will not cower before a man as pathetic as you anymore! If I die, I will die free! And I will take you with me!”

Uhtmar roared charging his former master.

Sir Treblet raised his powered gauntlet and sent fire and lightning coursing through the minotaur’s body before the beast-man could finish his charge. Uhtmar howled in pain, the elemental energy knocking him back and down the hill.

Sir Treblet laughed stalking down the hill to finish the minotaur off. He’s taken only three steps before the steamlock pistol went off behind him. The knight stopped laughing turning to see Jenna holding his boot pistol in her hands.

He died. No one would cry for him. The steam-propelled bullet had gone right through his skull.

Uhtmar laid unmoving on the ground. Jenna rushed to him to see whether he was still alive. His breathing was slow but steady. He’d live, with rest.

A clarion call echoed across the Plains of Shulman. Jenna looked up to see hundreds of soldiers and Sermath’kah charging towards the hill. They had been alerted by the noise coming from the Shrine.

“There’s so many of them,” Jenna looked at the pistol in her hand and then the dead knight behind her. “This is rotten timing.”

“Indeed,” Uhtmar stood up his fur still smoking. “I’ll need that.”

Uhtmar held out his hand waiting for Jenna to hand him the steamlock.

“I want to help,” Jenna barely came up to his hip.

“No little miss,” Uhtmar shook his great head. “I cannot fight and worry about you at the same time.”

“There’s too many of them,” Jenna couldn’t believe how worried she was about him. “You’ll die.”

“I’ve already been dead once today,” the great minotaur took a hold of the steamlock, which she surrendered reluctantly. “What is one more time.”

“But…”

“No buts, little one,” he pushed her up towards the Shrine. “Now I need you to stay inside the Shrine and lock the door. Most likely, they won’t be able to break down the door if they get past me. You’ll be safe in there.”

Jenna didn’t like the idea but the alternative wasn’t much better either. She stepped around the dead Steam Knight then stopped an idea forming in her mind.

“Steam armor is magical,” she slipped out of his grasp. “It fits itself around the wearer. Like a second skin. You would stand a batter chance against them with it.”

“B-but I am only a slave,” Uhtmar watched as she tried to get the armor off the dead knight. “I am not worthy enough.”

“Saying that makes you more worthy of the honor than he ever was.” Jenna struggled in vain to get the armor off. “Now, do you know how to get this off him or not?”

Uhtmar turned to see the enemy nearing the base of the hill.

“Yes,” he bent down and keyed in the sequence his dead master had taught him to help take off the armor. The armor hissed and squealed as it retracted fully into its extradimensional pocket plane.

Jenna was shocked to see that it was no larger than her feather pillow at home and nearly as light.

“Now put it on,” Jenna gave the magical armor to Uhtmar.

He hesitated.

“What’s wrong,” Jenna was beginning to become annoyed.

“I’m not a Steam Knight,” Uhtmar turned over the armor, which looked like a big nap sack. “I don’t know how to work this.”

“Oh come on, you’ve seen him use it all the time. I’m sure you’ll be a natural. Believe in yourself.”

“I have been raised to be nothing more than a slave.” Uhtmar put the armor on and powered up the suit. “But you, you I believe in. Stand back!”

Uhtmar punched in the last command and the suit exploded to envelop him in metal and steam. It bound to his soul. Shimmering gold and red in the setting sun of the World of Rielun. He roared and the armor responded, molding to his head and jaw. Instead of a steam-powered sword, a great steam chain-axe formed in his right hand. Instead of a powered gauntlet, a steam cannon formed around his left. The armor shuddered as it wrapped around his torso and his legs. A great metal helm molded itself to his horns, shining in the fading twilight like a beacon across the hill.

He roared again and the enemy soldiers shuddered in fear. Their commanders kept them moving forward, the fear of their masters greater than the minotaur in front of them.

“Go into the Shrine, little one.” He spoke with confidence but not like Sir Treblet had. “I will handle this.”

“Be careful,” Jenna knew she’d be no help to him outside the Shrine. He’d simply worry too much about her and not the enemy in front of him.

She ran into the Shrine keying in the locking sequence, which the wall displayed next to the pad. The door hissed shut and the steam engine came to life providing a magical boon that would secure the Shrine against physical or magical harm. The power of the Shrine emanated out across the hill finding Uhtmar’s power source, adding to it. Soon the armor shone of its own accord and magical energy filled the weapons to capacity.

Uhtmar had never felt the touch of a God before but somehow he knew that Jaua Ae-rielun, the Heart of the World, was with him now. They would not take the Shrine. He believed in himself... for Jenna.

He stepped out on the edge of the hilltop and roared again in defiance of those that would destroy the Balance and harm the innocent.

“I am Uhtmar Umal-Arak, son of Retinsal of Biacc! Here me dark warriors, I have been a slave, I have been a coward, but today I am reborn! Today I am Uhtmar of Da’aphet, Steam Knight, Warrior of Delvir Shrine, protector of the Royal Throne, champion of Lady Jenna Hallin… my Queen, my heart, my friend! None of you shall pass on this day, I swear it to the Heart of the World.”

Uhtmar roared charging down the hill towards the approaching horde. Jenna had never prayed to Heart of the World before but on that night she prayed for her friend.

* * *

“Uhtmar charged into the darkness, fighting dozens of southern soldiers and the Sermath'kah all through the night. He did not rest, he did not sleep and he did not eat. He fought and fought and just when I thought he’d been killed he’d come out of the darkness again to defend the Shrine and my life. Some believe he died a dozen times that night but that the Heart of the World brought him back time and time again until the dawn rose and none were left standing but he.”

“Mother, I’ve heard a different legend that it was your love and friendship that kept him alive.” Sanin smiled at his mother.

“Well, one shouldn’t believe false legends, my son. I am only a Queen and the Heart of the World is a God. What makes more sense?”

“True but it’s a better story.” Sanin watched as his mother turned red as the sun was setting outside the great Bay Window of Palace Hall.

“Anyway, Uhtmar brought me to Da’aphet and was pivotal in freeing the city from the clutches of the Sermath'kah. He founded a new order of Steam Knights that didn’t exclude any race, regardless of their original homeland. He stood by the side of the Throne for years protecting your father and I.”

“But what happened to him? His Horned helm hangs in the Halls of Honor but it doesn’t say how he died?”

The queen closed her journal staring out into the twilight, wondering what to tell him.

“I-I don’t know what happened to him. One day he simply vanished and his helm appeared in the Hall of Honor.”

“So he could still be alive. I’d like to meet him.”

“I’d like you to meet him too, my son. I’d like that very much. But I don’t think it’s possible. No, the Warrior of Delvir Shrine is gone. Most believe he is with the Heart of the World now, a part of him. Others believe he left for the stars to take the his teachings to others of his kind across the ethereal sky.”

“What do you believe, mother?”

“I-I believe he is still here. That his body has died but that his spirit lives on protecting those in need. Watching over us, defending us w-with his horns of honor.” Lady Jenna Kel, Queen of Da’aphet sighed trying not to cry. He wouldn’t want that. He’d want his little miss to be strong.

Sanin watched his mother holding her hand as the sun set. His eager mind had another question though.

“Mother, can you tell me how he single handedly defended the city during the Fourth War?”

“I think that a story for another time, my son.” Lady Kel laughed holding her son close to her, tears running down her face. “Another time.”
 
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Enkhidu

Explorer
Kai Lord, if you hadn't figured it out by now, this is the Best. Contest. Evar.

Thanks loads for giving ENWorlders an opportunity some of them wouldn't otherwise have. You, my friend, are one of the best.
 

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