reaproved shadowspawn bio

[Liitha]

char been gone for a good while, so the writer tidied up and added to the bio as the char been rped some since the original bio

 

 

 

Character Name: Myyrth’ul’shai’alzumel

 

Dragonmount Forum Name: Myyrth

 

Email: graydon.larsonrolf@gmail.com

 

Group: CotS

 

Division: Shadowspawn

 

Age: 20

 

Height: 6’2’’

 

Weight: 197 Ibs

 

Physical Description:  Myyrth seems almost average for one of the Eyeless, if a twisted shadow spawned monster can ever be considered average.  He is if anything taller than most of his kind.  Whip thin and coiled like a snake ready to spring, everything about him breaths a quiet but imminent danger.  His body is covered in scars, trophies of the battles he has survived; a long and ragged scar runs from his left temple down over his face, a burn scar from a conflict with one of the male channelers known as Asha’man covers the right side of his chest, and two puckered round arrow wound mark the pale maggot like skin of his gut.  They serve as a suitable prize and a reminder of the dangerous struggles he has surmounted.

 

Place of Birth: Saldean Blightborder

 

Biography:  Life in the blight is a short and brutal series of struggles that teach a clear and simple lesson.  Life is cheap, kill those who stand in your way.  For a twisted mockery of life like a Fade, this lesson strikes home even harder.  Devoid of empathy or emotion, other than cold rage and contempt, Myyrth has lived his entire life, a murderer without remorse.  In the Blight it is kill or be killed.  His mother a bloated sow of a Trolloc matron had given birth to many a mewling brood of Trollocs, yet it drained her of life to spew out the eyeless monster that was to become Myyrth.  The early life of a fadeling is a dangerous and challenging existence, the Trollocs that surrounded him in the small nomadic tribe of his birth were not fond of the tall black armored taskmasters that enslaved their warriors and killed their kin.  Only by the strength of his bonded guardian and the uncanny fear that his gaze inspired (weak though it was) kept him alive.  In the end, it was luck not skill that carried Myyrth through his early years.

 

Eventually the tribe, tired of living in unease that someday a stronger Myrddraal would come for their ward, tired of feeding the voracious creature their hard earned food and very simply tired of dealing with the uncanny nature of his very presence, decided that killing him was worth the negligible risks.  The fadeling was ambushed while outside of camp, dark hulking shapes suddenly rising out of the gloom with threatening eyes.  Catching him by surprise, they cut his face leaving a ragged wound.  Yet they were overmatched, underestimating the uncanny speed and deadly instinct that was within the neverborn.  With the strength of his still living guardian at his side, he butchered his way free of the surrounding tribal warriors and escaped into the oily gloom of the blight.  There he spent months with his slavishly loyal, adopted-parent living how he could off the bitter cruelty of the wilderness.  The DO’s twisted influence permeated the land, and seeped into the young Myrddraals mind, making him strong and cunning.  If there is one truth in the lands of Shadow it is that the worm shall take its pound of meat.  His Trolloc guardian, the closest thing any Fadeling has to a friend in its brutal life, died.  Swallowed up by a rampaging worm the very suddenness his guardian’s violent death shattered the bond between them.  Throwing the young fade into a gut wrenching nausea, unable to fight, he stumbled and ran away leaving the worm to its feast.  Moving further and further south, now entirely alone the fadeling learned the hard truth of solitude.  Surviving on raw animals, and scavenged rotting meat, he nosed his way through the filth of the blightborder like an albino snake slithering for its hole.  Finally he escaped out of the Blight into the wintery northlands, where the eerie heat of the Blight was replaced by the bitter cutting Saldaen cold.  For Myyrth, it was a shocking change, though his tainted constitution dulled the bitter cold it was still an alien land and not without its share of dangers.  Constant patrols of vigilant human’s stalked the lands.  This was the militarized border of the Blight, however the vigilance of the Saldaens had waned much over the year.  Yet it was still dangerous for a lone fadeling, few of his kind ever wandered so far before their first quickening.

 

It was in this strange land that he was first faced with his toughest challenge.  Despite his vigilance Myyrth was ambushed, the soldiers, mere passersby attached to no larger patrol, spotted him as he carefully crossed a military road in the growing twilight.  He was pierced twice by their arrows, screaming with rage and adrenaline he crawled into the shadows.  It was then, for the first time that he felt the tug of the darkness around him as the heavy gloved hands seized his throat.  Desperate to save his own wretched life, he reached out to the shadows.  His mind shook as it made the first hesitant contact with the dark realm.  Briefly he was in another place, and he thrashed free of the restraining hands through the man holding him down as he briefly stepped into the shadow realm.  It lasted only a moment before his physical reality crashed back into place.  He was half a foot away from his executioners and momentarily free.  His predatory instincts seized him, and before they had a chance to react he was on them, their blood leaked free, a steaming pool on the ground.

 

Already he felt his mind being tugged forcefully back towards the blight.  The Dark One called to him.  Only one more test stood between him and his goal.  Skulking north, driven by his need he was confronted by an Asha’man, they frequently could be found traveling on the Blightborder seeking battle with the Shadow’s minions.  If a soul-less monster could know fear, Myyrth felt it then.  Pursued north into the fierce wilderness of the Blight, the very ground itself erupting around him as he fled.  At every turn he sought to find a way to turn the tables on his attacker.  The One Power gave its wielder many advantages, it could also serve to blind them to the obvious.  Myyrth was a survivor, and he knew the blight well.  Staying barely a step ahead of his pursuer he led him straight into a bloodwrasp’s nest and in the chaos, he struck.  His rusty and worn blade impaled his attacker through the stomach.  Cunning though Myyrth was, the Asha’man was not caught completely unaware.  Scourged by fire and whips of air, the fadeling was thrown far from his erstwhile foe.  Horribly burned and beaten, he managed to escape into the wilds, leaving the wounded human to fend for himself.  Already the felt his mind opening, like a black and ruined flower, to the essence of his dark master and like every creature tainted by the shadow, he knew deep in the pit of his foul heart that this darkness was home.