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<blockquote data-quote="Endovior" data-source="post: 2426245" data-attributes="member: 33321"><p>Born in a village in a forest on the continent of Almanion, Eladrin learned at an early age that he was... different from the other Elves. He was far more serious and disciplined then they, a difference which slowly but surely drove a wedge between him and his peers. He would spend much of his time far outside the village, training his body and mind, and testing his capabilities... not uncommon for aspiring young Elves, but few could match his dedication. It was on one of these excursions that he encountered a group of Human Monks, travelling across the land. He admired their skill and self-discipline, and asked to train under them. After a lengthy discussion amongst themselves, they agreed to let him join if he passed their tests. And strange tests they were, as well. They said that to learn their ways, he must be absolutely obedient, accepting all orders without question. Thus it was that he would, for example, count the number of people in his village, keeping seperate tallys of soldiers and wizards and such, or draw detailed diagrams of the village, including defensive positions, armories, etc...</p><p></p><p>He didn't think anything of it at the time, and after provinding a lot of quite detailed information on not only his own village, but several others, and a good sampling of towns and cities throughout the area, he was sent to a monastery in a far off land over the seas, 'to study our ways under greater masters', as they said. But throughout the process, he noticed many little things that would nag at the back of his mind as he trained. There was the balcony far above the training grounds where sinister-looking black-robed men would watch the training from time to time. There was the statue of a six-armed god (which his superiors named Hextor) that all were required to bow before... that requirement being a stark contrast to the worship Eladrin had previously witnessed. There were the slaves, visible on rare glimpses outside the walls of the monastery, where Eladrin could see their endless toil in the bleak lands outside. There were the speeches, in which grim men would speak of power, and how only the strong should rule, with the weak being subject to them. Most of all, though, were the rituals. For four times a year, those black-robed men would be present in force, and would sacrifice slaves before Hextor's statue in a grim and bloody way. Eladrin noted this in as calm a way as he could, and on the spot decided that as soon as his obligation to his masters was complete, he would leave, and forge his own path.</p><p></p><p>But once his training was complete, he found that leaving Hextor's service was far more difficult then entering it was. The very day his training was deemed 'complete', he was ordered to return to his homeland in the company of a much larger group. A huge fleet, grim and dark, sailed against the Elf homehand, and it carried an army of darkness. There were numerous engagements, while still at sea. Battles would be fought ship-to-ship, and (though the troop transports were kept well back of the fighting), Eladrin knew that those were Elven ships sinking, that Elves were dying to stop his advance. When the ships landed, it was worse. Orders were always being given from some faceless superior above, to attack this town, or defeat this force... and Eladrin had no real choice but to obey the orders. Frequently, he was commanded to act as the agent within... entering a town in common clothes and opening a gate in the middle of the night, and similar acts. Occaisionally, he would hesitate, or even question orders, receiving harsh rebukes and punishment. On one occaision, a control spell of some type was placed upon him to ensure his cooperation. This continued for some time... until his unit was hit with superior force. His comrades fought hard, but they were no match for their enemies. His last conscious memory that day was that of a warrior in shining armor shouting "Die, Servant of Evil!", as he swung a large glowing sword... and the resulting blow knocked him out.</p><p></p><p>He awakened, bound, in a tent elsewhere, with white-robed men looking at him curiously. They told him that he was spared because a Paladin of theirs had tried to smite him... but his effort had failed, proving that Eladrin was not evil. The questioned him for a long period of time, and eventually, his story came out. His captors left, and returned some time later. They offered him the chance to atone for his actions, and perhaps right some of the wrongs his actions had caused. He considered their offer carefully, and after a time, accepted. And he was then cleansed by the light, and emerged from that tent changed. </p><p>He soon returned to the fight (for the other side, this time), but he fought with a new strength, for he now had a prupose, a higher goal beyond merely following orders. Throughout that war, he sought out his old superiors one by one, defeating each in single combat. He took this on as a personal quest, and was quite successful in it. Eventually, in the final decisive battle of the war, he faced the master of the monastery. The man had been been battered by previous fights, but he was confident that one wayward novice would pose no threat. He mocked Eladrin for 'weakness', and 'giving in to emotion'. He claimed that Eladrin had abandoned discipline, that the softness of Eladrin's new allies had weakened him, preventing him from getting stronger. Eladrin remained calm, and announced that strength came in many forms, not all apparent to one devoted to darkness. With that, he tapped deep into his innermost reserves, awakening a long-dormant energy within his being, and defeated his one-time master in a close battle. The rest of the battle had gone equally well for the forces of Good, and the armies of Evil were repelled.</p><p></p><p>That being accomplished, Eladrin was ever-wary of losing the discipline he had maintained all his life, so he constantly sought higher challenges. Eventually, he sought out the Githzerai masters within Limbo, and, after much study, mastered all that they could offer. Eventually, he grew old, and 'retired' to a demiplane for contemplation... (where he remained for centuries) until the disasters occured. He knew at this point that his time was near, and that the day of his death was nearing. He considered various methods he had heard of prolonging the inevitable, and even of escaping the universe entirely... but instead he found himself recruited by the newly-ascended deity of Self-Control, Morlyn. Although at first amused by such a young entity's claim to the portfolio of self-control, Eladrin was soon impressed by the level of mastery such a young being had attained in such a short time. As a result of their discussions, he has now decided to confront the evil, to fight in this last epic battle with existence at stake. He's done it all before, and is confident that he can do it again... one last time.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Endovior, post: 2426245, member: 33321"] Born in a village in a forest on the continent of Almanion, Eladrin learned at an early age that he was... different from the other Elves. He was far more serious and disciplined then they, a difference which slowly but surely drove a wedge between him and his peers. He would spend much of his time far outside the village, training his body and mind, and testing his capabilities... not uncommon for aspiring young Elves, but few could match his dedication. It was on one of these excursions that he encountered a group of Human Monks, travelling across the land. He admired their skill and self-discipline, and asked to train under them. After a lengthy discussion amongst themselves, they agreed to let him join if he passed their tests. And strange tests they were, as well. They said that to learn their ways, he must be absolutely obedient, accepting all orders without question. Thus it was that he would, for example, count the number of people in his village, keeping seperate tallys of soldiers and wizards and such, or draw detailed diagrams of the village, including defensive positions, armories, etc... He didn't think anything of it at the time, and after provinding a lot of quite detailed information on not only his own village, but several others, and a good sampling of towns and cities throughout the area, he was sent to a monastery in a far off land over the seas, 'to study our ways under greater masters', as they said. But throughout the process, he noticed many little things that would nag at the back of his mind as he trained. There was the balcony far above the training grounds where sinister-looking black-robed men would watch the training from time to time. There was the statue of a six-armed god (which his superiors named Hextor) that all were required to bow before... that requirement being a stark contrast to the worship Eladrin had previously witnessed. There were the slaves, visible on rare glimpses outside the walls of the monastery, where Eladrin could see their endless toil in the bleak lands outside. There were the speeches, in which grim men would speak of power, and how only the strong should rule, with the weak being subject to them. Most of all, though, were the rituals. For four times a year, those black-robed men would be present in force, and would sacrifice slaves before Hextor's statue in a grim and bloody way. Eladrin noted this in as calm a way as he could, and on the spot decided that as soon as his obligation to his masters was complete, he would leave, and forge his own path. But once his training was complete, he found that leaving Hextor's service was far more difficult then entering it was. The very day his training was deemed 'complete', he was ordered to return to his homeland in the company of a much larger group. A huge fleet, grim and dark, sailed against the Elf homehand, and it carried an army of darkness. There were numerous engagements, while still at sea. Battles would be fought ship-to-ship, and (though the troop transports were kept well back of the fighting), Eladrin knew that those were Elven ships sinking, that Elves were dying to stop his advance. When the ships landed, it was worse. Orders were always being given from some faceless superior above, to attack this town, or defeat this force... and Eladrin had no real choice but to obey the orders. Frequently, he was commanded to act as the agent within... entering a town in common clothes and opening a gate in the middle of the night, and similar acts. Occaisionally, he would hesitate, or even question orders, receiving harsh rebukes and punishment. On one occaision, a control spell of some type was placed upon him to ensure his cooperation. This continued for some time... until his unit was hit with superior force. His comrades fought hard, but they were no match for their enemies. His last conscious memory that day was that of a warrior in shining armor shouting "Die, Servant of Evil!", as he swung a large glowing sword... and the resulting blow knocked him out. He awakened, bound, in a tent elsewhere, with white-robed men looking at him curiously. They told him that he was spared because a Paladin of theirs had tried to smite him... but his effort had failed, proving that Eladrin was not evil. The questioned him for a long period of time, and eventually, his story came out. His captors left, and returned some time later. They offered him the chance to atone for his actions, and perhaps right some of the wrongs his actions had caused. He considered their offer carefully, and after a time, accepted. And he was then cleansed by the light, and emerged from that tent changed. He soon returned to the fight (for the other side, this time), but he fought with a new strength, for he now had a prupose, a higher goal beyond merely following orders. Throughout that war, he sought out his old superiors one by one, defeating each in single combat. He took this on as a personal quest, and was quite successful in it. Eventually, in the final decisive battle of the war, he faced the master of the monastery. The man had been been battered by previous fights, but he was confident that one wayward novice would pose no threat. He mocked Eladrin for 'weakness', and 'giving in to emotion'. He claimed that Eladrin had abandoned discipline, that the softness of Eladrin's new allies had weakened him, preventing him from getting stronger. Eladrin remained calm, and announced that strength came in many forms, not all apparent to one devoted to darkness. With that, he tapped deep into his innermost reserves, awakening a long-dormant energy within his being, and defeated his one-time master in a close battle. The rest of the battle had gone equally well for the forces of Good, and the armies of Evil were repelled. That being accomplished, Eladrin was ever-wary of losing the discipline he had maintained all his life, so he constantly sought higher challenges. Eventually, he sought out the Githzerai masters within Limbo, and, after much study, mastered all that they could offer. Eventually, he grew old, and 'retired' to a demiplane for contemplation... (where he remained for centuries) until the disasters occured. He knew at this point that his time was near, and that the day of his death was nearing. He considered various methods he had heard of prolonging the inevitable, and even of escaping the universe entirely... but instead he found himself recruited by the newly-ascended deity of Self-Control, Morlyn. Although at first amused by such a young entity's claim to the portfolio of self-control, Eladrin was soon impressed by the level of mastery such a young being had attained in such a short time. As a result of their discussions, he has now decided to confront the evil, to fight in this last epic battle with existence at stake. He's done it all before, and is confident that he can do it again... one last time. [/QUOTE]
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