Pavora Kalvenon
From Reydala
On a rainy night nearly two years ago to the date, Pavora was sitting inside the guild hall with many of his companions, sharing a warm meal and refreshing drink with those around him. The elf sat at the end of a long table, directly across from him, one of his favorite companions, the stout dwarf Durix.
The eldery elf took a big swig from his tankard before setting it down again with a smile, speaking to the dwarf across from him, the sounds of the raindrops upon the largely wooden ceiling echoing lightly through the hall "Ah, The rainy season is upon is truly upon us now.. Lord Durix, have you ever seen such a downpour?"
Durix smiled, "I dare say we get at least one of these every year, they'll probably be evacuatin' us down to the cellars soon enough."
Pavora put his palms flat against the table, "Not the strength of it, friend, the beauty..! Why this reminds me of that vile crusade nearly a hundred years ago, where the goddess Mulinel herself saw in her grace to call healing rain upon our very cities.."
Durix laughed for a moment, taking a gulp of his own ale. "You find beauty in some strange things, Pavora.. But this tale seems to be another interesting one, so do go on!"
Pavora smiled, beginning to move hands and tankard with Dramatic effect. "Those were dark days my friend, everywhere we turned, the devils were upon us, huge armies at least ten thou.. no, a hundred thousand strong! Huge behemoth golems that crushed even our tallest buildings underfoot, it seemed like we were doomed, like there was no hope... my fragile spirit was waning as I held onto my sword upon the Nistorinae ramparts, a mere shadow of the man I am now.."
Durix put his tankard down, scratchin' his beard. "A hundred thousand, really?.."
Maerin, who was sitting nearby at the table began to scoff "If there were truly that many, the old man would surely not be standing here today!"
Pavora turned to his side where Maerin sat, "Indeed you may have been correct! Things looked bleak for the city, when suddenly we recieved a visitor who aided us in our turn against the tide..! You see, when things seemed their absolute blackest, the young princess Seremela of Leyandra appeared in our midst from the skies above..!"
Maerin looked somewhat suprised, then shook his head, figuring the old man was exaggerating things again "Why would our Leyandran queen be out visiting a Walstad city when we were facing our own Siege!.. Your story doesen't really make sense!"
Durix seemed to be more trusting, saying with a wry smile, "One princess turned the tide, you say?... She must have been a great warrior, from Maerin here I didn't think Leyandra could produce such abilities"
Maerin slammed his tankard down with a loud sound, raising his voice "I'll have you know..!"
Pavora cut him off immediately however, going back into his story. "A strong warrior?! Why there was no greater arcanist existing in the world at the time, and at such a young age..! The young princess not only destroyed one of the great Black Golems but destroyed one of the Haldian generals.. but that was not all, oh no my friend... The greatest gift that she gave us was giving us the flame that had died within our hearts..!"
Durix seemed intrigued. "A strong leader as well? Why, she might fit right in among our Dwarven high lords, such attributes are highly treasured!"
Maerin grimaced at the thought of his queen being surrounded by dirt-caked dwarves miles below the ground.
Pavora only laughed, continuing. "Once our hearts had been restored, we found again what we were fighting for..! There was no devil or n'er-do-well that could stand against our bastion of justice! The wave of blackness that threatened to swallow us was pushed backward inch by inch, until finally they routed back into the trees!.. Nistorinae was saved a dark fate, as was the world..!"
Durix seemed to understand, looking on toward his companion across the table. "..It seems the princess was a great inspiration for you, long after that time friend.."
Pavora smiled, "Since that day I vowed to continue to spread the fighting spirit that drives these old bones on even now.. I don't know if my abilities will ever reach the level of the young princess, but I cannot allow myself to stop before I reach anything less.. I'll keep on driving you all on until these old bones grind to dust!" He laughed cheerfully as he finished his drink.
Maerin watched the old elf beside him carefully, his rational side told him that the story had to be fabricated, but the way the old man spoke about it made it seem like historical fact. Maerin could not help himself from admiring Pavora's dedication to his cause, though he resolved that if he ever the chance he would ask the queen whether this strange event had actually occured.
Current Standing
Relationships
Character Sheet
Level: 7 | Class: Warlord | Paragon Path: N/A | Epic Destiny: N/A | |||||
Race: Elf | Size: Medium | Age: 196 | Gender: Male | Height: 5'8" | Weight: 160 lbs. | Alignment: Lawful Good | Deity: Elemental Pantheon | Origin: Walstad |
|
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|