Tyranadin Bladeweaver

Name:

Tyranadin Bladeweaver

Race:

Human

Class:

Paladin

A sense of awe filled his heart has he approached the gates of Qeynos for the first time. Tyranadin, son of Althen Bladeweaver, was finally where he felt he belonged. He stopped outside the gates, the night wind blowing his hair across his face, admiring the spectacle that was the mighty city.

"At last," he whispered, though more to himself than anyone listening or watching, and though he did not take notice, the citizens did watch his approach. He was quite regal looking in his polished steel armor, his blue cape bearing the insignia of the house of Bladeweaver carried by the wind as if the element itself knew of his heritage. He strode forward, oblivious to the curious stares. He was stopped at the gate momentarily, and one of the guards looked up to speak. Then, as if realizing whom this stranger was, he quickly clamped his mouth shut, saluting him and waving him past.

Finally I shall see my brother, he thought to himself, smiling as he remembered the days long past where he and his older brother Jericho both spoke of the days they would join the Qeynos Guard and take leave of the wretched, corrupt city that was all of Freeport. He paused a moment, at that. "No, not all of it," he correct himself, as the grand Temple of Marr rested there, where he first heard the calling of his Goddess, Erollisi Marr. He lightly clasped his holy symbol and smiled. "I shall return one day…"

As he approached the Northern Quarter he heard voices. He quietly moved through the pass that opened outward into the courtyard. The voices grew louder, and he realized that it was a group of three city guards arguing with a peasant man.

As he started to approach, one of the guards struck the peasant to the ground and drew his sword. For a moment, Tyranadin hesitated, but when the sword was raised upon the helpless man he could stand no longer.

"Stop!" he shouted, drawing his blade. The guards turned to him, the one holding the sword not lowering, but halting the weapon. Two of the three chuckled at the obvious fool who stood before them, and seemed ready to show their discontent of the interruption, but the other with the blade held his position, slowly lowering the blade and staring at the newcomer.

"Let the man go, and I will not have to harm you," Tyranadin threatened, his blade at his side. The two guards started forward at that remark, but the third motioned for them to stand their ground. The odd one stepped forward into the light, and removed his helm.

"Hello brother," the man said as he lowered his helmet to his side. Tyranadin stood shocked, nearly dropping his blade.

"No…it cannot be you…you just…I mean…why…" he could not find the words to express the betrayal he felt.

"Yes brother, it is I," he stated coldly, "Much has changed since we last met.

How unfortunate that you had to witness this. I must offer you the choice now."

"What choice? I don't understand."

"The obvious one, of course. As you can probably tell, even here in the mighty city of Qeynos, the only way to get by is to crush the ones in your way. I offer you the chance to stick by me, and I will show you the way to true power. Should you not…" his words trailed off into the evening. His hand began to pulse, a deep red glow shining forth.

Tyranadin was speechless. His brother, the person he had traveled so far to see had turned from the path of Marr. His shock turned to anger. "Never!" He raised his sword level and spoke again with determination; "I offer you the chance once again to leave. Your refusal means your life."

The two guards rushed forward at him. When the guards came closer, he lowered his blade to his side, and called upon the blessings of Erollisi. As they bore down upon him he lashed out with a powerful swipe. The guards fell before him, as would trees to an axe.

His brother came on next, whispering dark words into the air. Suddenly Tyranadin felt his life force being drawn out. He was stunned, just for a moment, and that cost him the advantage. His brother came at him with a slash that would have struck him dead, and he moved just at the last moment. But it was not soon enough, as the cut took his right eye.

Enraged, he charged at his brother and tackled him to the ground. But his anger was not yet satisfied. He took his sword in the air and stabbed it downward over and over.

When he was done, his brother was dead. He stood up, staring downward in disbelief.

After a moment, he fled the city and did not stop until he collapsed.

He rose to his knees, tears flowing from one eye, blood from the other. "Blessed

Marr, I have violated your sacred vows and struck out in anger! I have forsaken all I held dear in that one moment." He fell forward, supporting himself with his arms, weeping openly. "How can I make this right? How can I make up for this horrible crime?"

Suddenly, a vision flashed through his head, and he knew what he must do. He was to give up his current life. His charge was to care for the people of the world, and spread the word of Erollisi across the land. He was to give up the blade and become a servant of the Gods, never to see the lands as a mortal again.

He stood slowly, determinedly, his wounded eye no longer bleeding. "I shall," he said.

With that, a cloud of fire surrounded him. Arms outstretched, he welcomed the blaze. As quickly as it appeared, the flame was gone, and so was he, his life changed forever.