Description: Nalfian stands about 5'11 and weighs approximately one hundred seventy pounds. He is thin, but well toned, having a strength not usually noticed. His hair is oaken brown with a slight widow's peak, and a thin unnaturally grey hairline running back on the left side, which he wears short and swept back. Although seeming pale in contrast to his hair, his skin in acutely well adapted to southern suns. His eyes are deep-set and blaring azure and betray wisdom uncommon in his homeland, Muerdekeep. His posture is remarkably straight and he seems to move with an almost egoistic grace, movement's fluid and flowing, smooth, and seemingly centered in the stomach, while most people center their movements in the chest. Though some perceive this as arrogance, it is more properly silent awareness, and calm perception. Nalfian has a quiet charm, is quick to smile, and slow to criticize. He is sure of his actions, quick to admit wrongdoing, and quick to change misdeeds, into good deeds. He enjoys nothing more then a stimulating conversation, but chooses to remain quiet in most cases, finding most people uninterested with the things that interest him the most. Though born in the lower classes, he has a dry wit, and enjoys subtleties, and ironies. Rarely will he ever just come out and say what he means, choosing instead a series of obscure connections, and allusions, most people do not notice, or care to notice, and therefor do not understand. Many feel he speaks in odd sentence structure, and unconnected metaphors, that are often hard to understand, unless you're him, but in truth, are very well connected. He has two tattoo's, one on his left arm and one on his right, which connect on his shoulder blades, and spiral down his middle back. The one on his left arm is of a giant Red Serpent in eternal battle with a giant Green Serpent. The one on the left is similar, of a Brown Serpent doing battle with a Blue Serpent. The tattoos are to remind him of the four elements, the four winds, the eternal struggle of life versus death, good versus evil, and illusion verses truth. His left ear is pierced twice with rings of silver, and his right with an identical ring. His left eyebrow is also pierced by a gold ring, small, and off centered to the left. His speech is as fluid, flowing, and calm as his movements, melodious to some, and commanding when it must be. His temper is as cool as snow, rarely ever coming to a boil, but when it does, fearsome is it indeed. He is quick to forgive, but slow to forget, he makes friends for life, and has few enemies. He is polite in his speech, untouched by common vulgarities, and shows tact not seen in most, if any. You can trust him with a secret, and he will not lie, but that doesn’t mean that he is giving you all the information. If he trusts you, then you will get it all, but otherwise you are on a constant need to know basis, which can become very annoying to some, considering he is sometimes hard to understand. He generally goes by the name Nalfian, though if involved in uncomfortable situations, he simply goes by Blurre.
History: Aryesian Kzziel was a fisherman on the coast of Dag'bodear, who made a living by this trade. He had lived in the fishing village of Bridgewall since he was a lad, under the care of his father, and his grandparents. His father, Jhor was a stern man, but a kind father who had moved back with his parents, Giswald and Lilly, after his wife died of the fever ten years back. Aryesian worked hard to obey his father and grandparents, as well as to help support the family when he was a child, and this caused him to grow into a competent man. When he was twenty years of age, his father and grandparents decided that it was time that he go and discover the world for what it was, so he left and made his way to Muerdekeep.
When he arrived Aryesian found that the city was walled off by an enormous wall, separating the city from Dag'bodear and the rest of the seven kingdoms of Azmuuth. He scaled the wall using small holes within the wall, as well as outcropping, and inlaying stones. When he reached the top of the stone wall he pulled himself above and was startled to see two angry guards running towards him from about a hundred feet farther down the wall. He ran to the opposite side and saw that the land below was well forested, and so he leaped the near thirty feet downward crashing with a thud, and then quickly scurried into the forest below. An archer loosed a quarrel and nearly hit him, but he was able to use the foliage as adequate camouflage to escape. He doubted the guards would go through exorbitant amounts of trouble to find him.
It was not long before he reached the village of Rodem'keep which was at that time a farming village. Using what little gold his father and grandparents had given him, he was able to buy some tools and hire himself out as a field laborer in exchange for a bed, three meals a day, and a small commission.
He lived in this manor for three years, until he met a young woman named Kalanna who was a daughter of one of his fellow field workers. She had long flowing auburn hair, and light blue eyes that speckled like gold. She was a small woman, and beautiful as the sunset. In Aryesian's mind she bore the heavens in her eyes. She was a peasant girl, but as delicate as any noble. She was sixteen of age at the time. He courted her from the day that they first spoke, and for three months following. Almost a year after they were married, they bore a son who they named Gai. He was a large and strong baby, but he caught influenza as a newborn, and died shortly thereafter.
This dragged Kalanna into a deep depression. It was all she could do to wake up in the morning and continue to live. Her love for Aryesian caused her to heal over time however, and it was not but a year and a half when they had their second son. They named him Nalfian, after Kalanna's grandfather, who had passed away the previous winter.
Nalfian was born early, and was a small baby in comparison to his brother Gai. When he was born he looked somewhat sickly, and pale, and this caused Kalanna to fear very deeply that her second son would also catch ill and perish. The first year was very difficult, but after it passed Kalanna was certain that Nalfian would grow to be strong, like his father.
Nalfian did grow strong, under the discipline of his father, and the care of his mother. It was a rich and happy home-life. When Nalfian was six, his mother Kalanna became very ill. She had been bed-ridden for weeks and had steadily been losing consciousness. A healer told them that he did not have the power to heal her, and she would surely die. Knowing this Aryesian left with his son, and traveled back to his childhood home in Dag'bodear. There he left his son, to be raised with his father, and returned home to see his wife. He made it back just in time to see her die, and to tell her that he would always love her.
After this Aryesian once again traveled to return home. After staying there for only a single year, he died of heart failure while working in the fields.
Aryesian's father was far too old and tired to raise another boy, but did so for nearly two years. After that period he knew that he must send the boy away, or else the boy would one day be left with no one to care for him. Jhor called for his son's brother in law, who had been Kalanna's brother, and Nalfian's uncle. His name was Drain and he was a man with no true profession. He traveled all over the lands of Azmuuth in his days, and sought work wherever people needed his help. Drain and Nalfian grew very close over their years of travel with each other. Drain was largely responsible for the way Nalfian turned out, and his knowledge beyond field working.
Perhaps it was Drain's influence, which gave Nalfian the curiosity, which would play such a big hand throughout his lifetime.
When Drain was forty, and Nalfian was seventeen, Drain planned an expedition to visit the place where the mystic city of light had once been. Though Nalfian thought it would be very exciting to leave this very continent, he felt he had a personal quest that would hold precedence, and would guide him in a different direction than Drain. His Grandfather, who had raised him for two years, had not been heard of for at least six. Nalfian wished to find his Grandfather, and see him and see how he was doing.
From Muerdekeep he traveled back to Dag'bodear, finding the path only from his childhood memory. He reached the giant stone walls incasing Muerdekeep, and he believed the sight to be familiar to his memory from some time long ago. He scaled the walls rather easily, and when he reached the top he was relieved to see no guards patrolling this particular spot at the moment, and he wouldn't have to rush in climbing down. He looked back over the path he had crossed, and viewed Muerdekeep from atop the towering walls. It was a beautiful and peaceful place.
He quietly climbed his way down from atop the walls, and made his way back to the town he had once lived. When he reached it, he found his town empty, and overgrown with weeds, and thorns. The houses were part of nature now, and the town, in this short period of time had become a ruin. What had happened here? And why? What had happened to Jhor? These were a few of the multitude of questions swimming inside of his head, all demanding answers. He searched the old town, and came to a manor, that was also over grown with trees and vegetation. He climbed inside through an open window, and was relieved to find the inside relatively intact, ignoring the spider webs, and various other insect homes.
He came to a fireplace and above it on a wall hung an old bastard sword, still perfectly intact. He also found a thick leather belt to hang it from, and a pair of forearm guards made of black steel. There were strange markings on the sheath of the blade, as well as on the forearm guards, which seemed identical. He removed the gear, and put it on, reasoning that who ever had previously owned it was obviously in no need of it now.
When exiting the manor, he crept outside, and heard screaming off in the distance. He followed his ears and soon arrived at a clearing that he had hidden behind so that he could continue observing. He saw a group of three humans who were dragging a female, with dark skin and pointed ears down a dirt path. Her clothing was torn, and she was bleeding in several places. He felt like he had to protect her from these men.
He pulled out the newfound sword, and jumped into the clearing, bringing it down on the back of one of the men. He fell over, seemingly dead, and Nalfian pulled the sword loose and held it out in front of the remaining two, giving the female time to escape, and to hide behind her armed protector.
The two men, held at bay by the death of their friend backed up slowly. One of them pulled out his long sword and said, "You have just made the biggest mistake you ever did". His companion pulled out his blade as well. Nalfian spoke, "I don’t think so, if you take one step closer, I will lay you down much like your friend. Further, I have killed many men just like yourself, and it would not effect my conscious in the slightest to add you to the list."… A lie, but a necessary one.
"Very well", spoke the first man, "But you must know that we will follow you to avenge the death of our companion, and the theft of our prize."
"If you seek death, then you may follow it" Remarked Nalfian, and with that the men ran into the brush and soon their footsteps echoed no more.
Nalfian untied the woman's arms and removed her gag. "Thank you stranger", remarked the woman, "Your kindness if uncommon… I only wish there were some way I could repay you".
But Nalfian refused. "My only concern is to get you to your home safely. You are not hurt, are you?"
"No, I'm okay, just scared."
"What is your name?"
"I'm Elarroneia, of the Ranskalpii, and you?"
"I am Nalfian, Nalfian Kzziel of Meurdekeep."
With this Nalfian buried the body, and escorted Elarroneia to her home far off to the north, in the Black Sands, where he would search for her tribe. The Sun Elves are by nature nomadic, and it was of no great surprise that the two were unable to find them. Nalfian was somewhat glad because he did not really trust the elves, and he had no idea what they would do with him once they found her tribe. He had just realized that finding them would probably mean death to him, when he heard a noise somewhere off behind him.
He whirled around in time to see three elves, one of which had an arrow pointed right at him, riding atop three gigantic lizards. He had time enough to study one of the dark skinned elves, an impressive and strong individual, just before he felt a powerful blow to the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. The world faded far beyond his consciousness, as he entered the dream-realm.
When he awoke, he found himself tied down with leather straps to a disc shaped stone on the floor. Elarroneia was kneeling beside him, and when he awoke, she started screaming at a towering elf in some long dead beast's hide. Soon the elf leaned over and unwound Nalfian's bonds.
Her Tribal Chief, the one in the hide, was very surprised to hear that any non-elf would act so bravely in an elf's defense. The Humans and the Elves are generally unkind to each other after the Elf-Man wars. He was even further impressed when he learned that Nalfian had never wielded a blade, besides an occasional hacksaw to cut down weeds. It was clear to the Chief that Nalfian was not a normal human, and his things were returned.
After enjoying the feast that was prepared in honor of the young Elarroneia's return, Nalfian and the Chieftain had a long conversation, through the interpretation of Elarroneia, who knew manspeak, about the troubles between men and elves.
The next morning it was time for Nalfian to depart. He could not be allowed to leave on his own, as he would know the location of the camp. He was now considered a friend to the Ranskalpii, but if he was caught by other humans, and tortured, he could not be allowed to know the location. He was allowed to ingest a weak poison, which would momentarily leave him unconscious.
When the sun rose he climbed atop a Gezzikle saddle, and drank the potion in its entirety. Soon he was unconscious again and dwelling within the dream-realm. When next he awoke, he found himself standing near the woods where he had found the young elf girl. He was in-between the woods and a city he could see off to the distance. Maybe he should go get the authorities, and try and get them to come with him and apprehend the two men he had left behind.
He had to go back to the forgotten village, and try to find some clue to where his Grandfather was. He would not want to go back into the forest without some type of protection, but what would the magistrate say about him killing a human to save an elf? The Magistrate would just as likely hang him as they would the other two men. Furthermore there is not a point in killing the two men, as no real harm had been done. Nalfian then remembered the man he had killed in the forest… Yes it was true that he had done it to save Elarroneia, but maybe there could have been a way to save her without killing him. Eventually Nalfian decided that the man could have very well killed him had he not killed the man. Also the other two men would have no reason to flee. Furthermore, if the three men had beaten him, Elarroneia could have been killed… or worse.
Nalfian decided that while it was necessary to kill the man, his death would still be on his conscious for a long time. He must at least try to avoid more bloodshed. He could not bring the guards, even if he knew he could trust them. He would go into the forest alone.
Nalfian reached the forgotten village without meeting the men. He had decided to stay off the main paths and roads, so there would be less likelihood of an encounter. When he reached the village, he went directly to his Grandfather's wheat farm. After searching the house, he realized that none of the things had been removed. When he had looked into some of the houses earlier, all of the items in them also seemed to remain. What happened to the people here? They could not have just disappeared, yet if they had time to move, they would surely have taken their things, at least their most important things. It did not matter though, as nothing was disturbed. Something seemed very wrong in the village.
Just as Nalfian exited the house, he heard another cry for help, but this time it seamed like a male voice. Were these two men already trying to abduct people after the death of their friend? Maybe the abductions had something to do with the missing villagers.
Nalfian ran again in the direction of the cry. Soon it led him to the same path as before. He peered out from behind and identical shrub, and there he saw the same two men, this time accompanied by two others, and dragging an unconscious man across the path.
Nalfian thought about his options carefully, as he could not just leap out and attack again. That would just lead to more death. Even if he managed to kill one in the beginning, there was no way he could stand up to the remaining three. Secondly, the prisoner did not seem to be in any immediate danger.
Nalfian decided to follow the men instead, and find out just exactly what it was they were doing with these men. This might also help him find clues to where his grandfather had gone.
For about an hour he followed the men as they relentlessly dragged the man down the path. Soon they came to an open cave mouth, and dragged the man inside. Quietly Nalfian followed them inside the cave, and into a large chamber. Torches were aligned all along the walls, lighting the center of the chamber where on the floor was painted a symbol, in a red sticky substance that he did not recognize. On the outside of the circle lay the bones of hundreds of dead, as this was a large cavern. Could these bones be the missing villagers?
Suddenly the torches were blown out in a single breath. Complete and total darkness surrounded him as he tried to regain his bearings. He heard some movement, and a gurgled muffled cry! What was happening? He could not see. Just as suddenly as the lights had gone out, the middle of the room became abright with a strange glowing red luminescence. It was the man; his blood was emanating the strange light as it trickled from his slit throat and chest. The body slowly began to rise from the dirty cave floor and spin about as it lifted. Soon it exploded with a powerful white light, momentarily blinding Nalfian. When he again regained his vision he realized that the torches were now all blazing, and he stood exposed as he had moved slightly during his attempt to figure out what was happening.
In place of the four men, now stood four towering charcoal black skinned beasts with bone-white horns and spikes jutting out of every imaginable place. Their eyes were bright and glowing, much like the victim's blood, and all their stares were fixed upon Nalfian. In a mad panic he ran from the cave as fast as he could, but their footfalls always seemed to be just behind his own. They were all making a horrid sound, almost as if they were laughing in delight, but far crueler. It seemed as if they could reach out and grab him at any moment, but they enjoyed the chase, and they enjoyed their game.
As Nalfian exited the cave, he darted to the side and pulled his bastard sword. He could hear the demons running, but they seemed to stop deeper inside the cave. Then a single set of footfalls began again, running faster and faster toward his location. Were they taking turns?
Just as the beast neared the edge of the cave, Nalfian sprang forward and held his sword out, bracing for the charging beast. Not having the ability to stop its charge, the beast screamed in rage and impaled itself upon his blade. It fell to the ground dead. He looked into the cave and standing about forty feet back he saw three sets of red glowing eyes staring back at him, unmoving.
Before he could blink one of the pairs darted forward and began its chase. Knowing the same trick would not work a second time, Nalfian ran straight for the trees. He hit some foliage and flung himself into a tall bush plant. With what little reason he had in his moment of panic, he darted back around the other side of the bush in time to see the beast enter in an attempt to follow him. Quickly he climbed a tree, which over hung the bush. He could see the beast below, trying to use its sniffing nose in an attempt to locate Nalfian's position. Nalfian leapt down from above, and knocked the creature on its stomach. Savagely he thrust his blade deep within the monster's neck, and it was no more. He looked up and standing in front of him was a third beast, and it swung its mighty arm down to crush him, but he managed to roll out of the bush. He ran faster than he had ever run before, and crashed through another of the large bushes, and out the opposite end. As he ran out of the bush the ground suddenly ended in a cliff overlooking a rocky canyon below, apparently formed by a river which flowed underneath him. He almost fell over, but he dropped down on the ground, and grabbed onto a root sticking out of the large bushel. Quickly he climbed up in time to move to the side and out of the way of the beast which sprang out from inside. He plunged his sword into its side as it attempted to stop, but the sudden attack from the side made it lose its footing, and it toppled over the side a hundred feet into the canyon below.
Nalfian panicked as he realized his sword also lay inside the canyon, still inside of the broken beast's side on top of the rocky floor below. How could he defeat the last of the beasts?
Tired and slowing, Nalfian darted back inside the brush and slammed directly into the fourth, and last of the beasts. The beast was momentarily stunned, which allowed him to run out of the bush to the side. Nalfian continue to run along the edge of the canyon, viewing no way to escape. He could not be defeated after such a battle. Just ahead he spotted a large tree trunk which had been positioned over the canyon to allow for some previous traveler a way across. Nalfian began to walk slowly across, but quickly noticed his mistake. Across the canyon was an open field, and if the beast could follow him across, as no doubt it could, he would be slaughtered on the other side. Nalfian decided to deal with that when it came, and continued crossing the makeshift bridge. The beast reached the log just as Nalfian was about half way. It began crossing with amazing speed, and Nalfian turned when he felt the vibrations, and saw the beast coming forward. As it almost got to him he had a last moment of clarity. He knelt down and wrapped both his arms around the log, and pitched himself over the side, causing the log to roll in that direction, allowing him to dangle from underneath it. As the log rolled, the beast completely lost it's footing, and it slammed into the bridge, and fell off to it's rocky death below.
Nalfian etched back to the original side and used out-hanging roots to climb back on top of the grassy land. There he lay for a little more than an hour, resting, and contemplating the miracle of his survival.
After he felt rejuvenated, and he was sure that there were no more beasts hunting him as game, he proceeded to climb down below, into the canyon. He did this with no great difficulty, and retrieved his sword from the bloody corpse of the beast. He removed a small thorn from the beast's hide, and attached it to a thread he wore around his neck. After this he again climbed up the cliff side, and made his way back to the cave.
When he got inside, he saw that the four skins of the men had been discarded like clothing. He began to bury the bones of the dead, as well as the skins of the four men.
Burying the dead took him all day, but he was unable to identify any of the bodies as his grandfather, as they were all far to rotted to tell. After doing this he again set on another journey, this time to nowhere, as his steps would surely take him to his destiny.
