Author: Agravaine; roughly 1999
(Written long before it was first posted in September of 2002. This is Agravaine's backstory.
Agravaine MacLear is my name and I am a Cleric of the God Brell Serilis. However, this was not always the case.
In my youth, I was trained as a warrior by my father Adarin Drendaiin and his brother Garanel Drendaiin. I spent many a day practicing with my wooden sword and shield to become a great warrior like my father had been. My father and uncle were the two great warriors of Kaladim, as my grandfather Kornic Drendaiin had been before them. They were seated on the war council of Kaladim and sat to the left and right of our King. Any time a battle was waged, they were at the front lines, killing the enemy in droves and leading the troops to victory. To my knowledge, they had never lost a battle. This was my dream, to become like they were. I too wished to be a noble warrior and lead my men to glorious victory. My future was already planned, and it was wonderful. Then one day, a wounded elf was found by one of our guards and returned to the city.
The best clerics in Kaladim were helpless to heal this poor elf. His fate had been sealed by some dark magics, magics that they had never encountered before. All they could do was to ease his pain before he died. I was out practicing swordsmanship with my cousin while all of this was taking place, but after the events that followed, I demanded to know the truth of what the elf said before he died. This is what my mother told me.
This elf was one of three elven scouts that had been sent to a mansion by the lake in the mountains. A family of elven nobility lived in the mansion, and the city of Kelethin had not heard any word from them for over a month. The family had great business dealings in Kelethin, and so it was very unusual to go a day without hearing from them, let alone a month. The Kelethin Council was becoming worried by the silence of these nobles, and so had sent three scouts to go to the mansion and see what was amiss.
The elves passed through the mountains without incident. The goblins had been soundly defeated only a week before, and were in hiding. As the scouts neared the lake, however, they noticed that the trees began to look sickly. At the lakeshore, all the trees had died, and all the animals had fled the area. The few animals that remained were diseased and mad with plague. The scouts had to fend off many a serpent and rat as they approached the mansion. The air grew thick and cold, and stank like a closet that hasn t been opened in many months. When the mansion was in sight, a skeleton arose out of the lake and attacked the scouts. If not for the sharp eyes and keen ears of one of the scouts, the three would have been taken by surprise and surely slain. As the skeleton fell to the ground, the scouts noticed that the musky smell was coming from the scattered bones. Taking this to be an ill omen, the three hurried to the mansion.
What they beheld as they walked through the gates was too terrible that the elf was unable to speak of it himself. He just shook his head and mumbled over and over, Dead. All Dead. Our clerics then drugged the elf, so that he could sleep and save his strength. The elf had troubled dreams though, and he spoke in his sleep. The things he spoke of were so frightful, that the nurse who was with him was taken with fear and ran from the room screaming. The elf told of hoards of undead beings. Corpses that rose from the earth and began to move around. Humans and elves alike with no flesh walking about and preparing for battle. Victims of plague calling out in agony as they died. Little is known about what happened next, for the elf began to panic and scream in his sleep; and shortly thereafter, he died.
Our clerics think one of the beasts saw the three scouts and attacked them. It slew two of them on the spot, and pursued the third into the mountains where our guards found him lying in a field.
When we reported all of this to the Kelethin Council, they grew very grim indeed. They were currently engaged in a great battle with a band of orcs led by Emperor Crush. They had no forces to spare and could offer little in the manner of advise about the mansion. They only knew that the nobles there were very wealthy and had dozens of servants and their families living on the grounds. With Crush battling against the elves, they could be of no help to us. Our King called his war council together to decide what to do about the evil that had grown on the shores of our nation. Like true warriors, my father and uncle suggested that we attack the mansion before they had finished preparations for war. If we struck first, we would surely have the upper hand and defeat the evil that had taken hold of that once fine mansion.
Preparations for battle were made in Kaladim. The militia was called together and armed. It was a grand sight to see so many brave warriors adorned in steel and wielding sword and hammer. Clerics were sent as well, so as to heal and guard our warriors during the battle. My father came to me the night before he departed to tell me that he was going to another battle; and that he would be home by sundown the next eve. The following morn, I was glowing.
Here was my father and uncle leading a parade of armored warriors and clerics into a battle that they would surely win. As they left the gates of Kaladim, I ran into my house and took up my sword and shield. I was eager to practice my skills so that one day, I could lead the parade out of town. I woke my cousin at his house and we began to practice the skills of a warrior. I was only 14 years of age then. As the sun was at its height in the sky, we were safe inside the caves of Kaladim. I swung my sword at my cousin, and he blocked my blow with his shield as if he had known where it would land. He thrust at me, and...
A brilliant flash of white stabbed at my eyes. I threw my hands over my eyes, but the light persisted as if it where within my very eyes. I could not block it out of my eyes or my mind. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, but I was no longer in Kaladim. I was no longer Agravaine either. I was ethereal. I was floating in the air above my father s head as he marched to the mansion on the horizon. I turned to see the great host of dwarves that was following my father into battle, and my heart was filled with pride. Here were assembled all of Kaladim s finest warriors and clerics. Their skills were unmatched by any other in the city. Any force that was foolish enough to meet them in battle deserved to be slaughtered for stupidity.
As I watched my father march, the light flashed before my eyes again. Now I was hovering above something else. It was taller than a dwarf, but thinner than an elf. It was wearing chainmail and wielded a saber. It was not marching; it was hiding in a bush along the waters edge. I could not make out what it was, until it raised it s head and looked up to where I should have been. As it looked up, I saw that it had no hair... no; it had no flesh at all! This was a skeleton hiding in ambush of our warriors! I shut my eyes in horror and the flash returned again. I was high above the lake, looking down upon the battle that was about to ensue. I could plainly see the column of dwarves coming along the shore. I could also see many shapes in the bushes and in the lake itself. There was also a much smaller column of warriors marching to meet my father. I knew that my father could not see the forces hiding in bush and water. I knew that he would assume that the small column was all that there was. I knew it, but I was helpless to do anything about it. I was doomed to watch what followed from my high vantage point.
The columns met at the far side of the lake. I could see that my father had marched right into the middle of the trap the evil beings had set. As my father shouted the battle cry that would begin the fight, the hidden shapes in the bushes and water sprung to the attack. They attacked the dwarven army from the rear, where all the clerics were seated. The clerics were slaughtered as if they were nothing more than goblin whelps.
The few that realized what was happening before it was too late jumped up and ran to the warriors for protection. Half of our warriors had already charged into battle with the undead army, the other half had to deal with the army that was now behind them. Our forces were split, and divided; we had not much hope of victory. When it looked as if we might win, great bats with claws and fangs began to swoop out of the sky and attack our battered warriors. My father and uncle, seeing that this was a lost battle, called for a retreat. Most of the remaining dwarven forces focused on the army to their rear and finally broke through it. My father and uncle were holding off the great host of undead as the remaining warriors fled into the mountains. There were only two clerics left, and one ran with the warriors, the other stayed with my family. As the last of the warriors ran away, the cleric cast a great spell. A purple wave spread from him, and the undead fled before it. Then my uncle and father turned and ran, the cleric followed suit. I watched them run, and sighed my relief that they had not fallen.
My sigh was immature, for as they ran, a final shape arose out of the water. This creature had once been a woman, I think. She had obviously been one of the first to die, and had died of plague. Her body was rotten and corroded. She had been twisted by some very powerful and evil magics. She began to move her hands about and I realized she was a spellweilder. I saw as she worked her hands, a ball of fire swell around her. At her command, the fire flew out over the lake and struck my uncle in the back. His platemail armor provided little protection from the heat, and his cloth shirt burst into flames. He roared in pain as the fire covered his body, and he began to run towards the water to put it out. Just then, roots grew up around his feet and held him on the shore, a mere foot from the cooling waters. As he fell over, the white flash returned.
I was now looking directly at the charred body of my uncle. I saw the undead hag float across the water to where the remains were. Then I saw a feat of magic that I have never seen again, and hope that I will never again witness in my life. Rather than just bend his body to her bidding, she captured his very soul and twisted it. His spirit rose out of his body and began to hover. It s eyes then turned blood red and it took up my uncle s arms and began to pursue my father and the cleric.
As another flash faded from my vision, I was looking at my fathers face. He was running for all his might, and I could see bruises and blood from where he had been struck with their weapons. I rose up to look over his head, and I saw the cleric running behind him. But the cleric was losing speed, for he had been wounded in the leg in the attack. Behind him, I saw the spirit of my uncle racing towards them. The cleric must have sensed the evil coming, for he stopped running and turned to face the ghost. He released the same purple wave that he had done before, but it had no effect on the evils that bound my uncle s spirit. In desperation, the cleric turned and cast a powerful healing spell on my father. Just then, the ghost came upon him and he was dead within seconds. My father, guessing what had happened, ran with all his might. The ghost looked up from the cleric, and threw his axe across a great expanse of land to strike my father in the back.
The white flash returned me to Kaladim and my practice as the ghost was taking his axe out of my father. My cousins sword was still in motion and struck my soundly on the side. I screamed a terrible scream as my vision went black and I fell to the ground. I awoke an hour later with a fright. I was in the clerics hall and the remaining clerics were wondering what was wrong with me. I leapt up and told them to go into the mountains and get my father, quickly! They were skeptical as to how I came to know this, but upon looking in my eyes, they knew that I was very serious. They took some guards and ran into the mountains to look for what I had told them I had seen. They found much more.
Not one of the warriors had survived. Their bodies lay scattered all over the mountains. The ghost had done its job very well; it tracked down and killed every warrior that had been under its command in life. The clerics found my father exactly where I said he would be, and he was still alive. When they returned to Kaladim, the clerics did everything in their power to try to heal his wounds. He had been smitten in the back and was going to die, nothing they could do could prevent that from happening now. My mother sent me home and told me to stay there, but I couldn t leave my father. I stood outside the Cleric Temple and peeked in a window. I watched my own father wither away and die within an hour.
I told the people of Kaladim what I had seen in my vision, and they laughed at me. I was a warrior in training, how could I have seen this with no spiritual training? Furthermore, how could I have seen all this in the time it took my cousin to swing a sword? I was ridiculed by the learned and went home in shame. No one knew the truth of what I had seen. I had seen ultimate evil at work, it had killed many people that I knew and loved. I had watched it all happen and no one believed me. That night after the town was asleep, I rose and kissed my mother goodbye.
I wandered for months. I took boats and walked across vast expanses of terrain. I knew not where I was going, or what I hoped to find. I only knew that I could not go back to Kaladim as I was. I had not completed my training as a warrior, so I was very vulnerable. One day in my travels, I can upon a cave that very much resembled my home. I walked into it only to find that it was inhabited by a race of dog people. I knew that this would be my end. They all had great fangs and were armed with weapons rusty with age. I began to run out of the cave and hope for the best. As I emerged, I tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. I rolled over to see the dog men coming close to me, and I shut my eyes, I was preparing to join my father.
I heard a great howl and the running of feet. I opened my eyes to see a very tall looking man standing over me with a great sword in his hand. One of the dog beasts lay dead at his feet. This giant of a man took me in his arms and carried me to his home. His land was covered in ice and snow, and it was so very cold. I was very weary and so I fell asleep in his arms. When I awoke, I was in a hut made of straw and lined with great white furs. A very tall woman was standing over me and rubbing a leaf over my forehead. I awoke again to find a different woman looking at me. She spoke in an accent I had not heard before, Aye lad, you be a wee one eh? she said with a smile. I asked where I was, and she told me I was in the city of Halas. I had never heard of this city, and it seemed to be populated by giants. I was scared, and began to cry.
This woman comforted me and asked me what was wrong. She was the first person to show any compassion to me in months, and so I told her everything. I told her of my home, of my family, of my visions, everything. She was amazed at my story. She had never heard of a dwarf! What kind of a barbarian was this!?
When I told her of the evil magics, she became very interested. She told me of a similar conflict that her people had with evil a long time ago. A man with a black aura came to their lands many generations ago. He slew dozens of their warriors and then animated their bodies to fight for him. This was exactly what I had been looking for, knowledge. She had great knowledge about this Twisted One as she called him. She also knew much about the art of healing. After a while, I asked her name, Shatara she said, with another of those brilliant smiles.
I spent many months with her and her people learning the ways of healing from them. I also learned all I could about this Twisted One. I wanted to find him and kill him for all the grief he had caused my new friends and my old family. I learned that blunt weapons crushed bones, and that a certain sort of spell was very effective against the undead.
After I had learned much of their ways, I decided to return home to my mother and my people. I had learned much from Shatara and her kind. I sad farewell to Shatara and to Wolfdor, who had saved me from the gnolls, and departed. Wielding a new hammer, shield, and elementary magics, I began on the long journey homeward.
When I returned, Kaladim was in an uproar. I had been gone for two years, and I had returned. I was thought long dead, and yet here I was. I came and taught the clerics of Kaladim what I had learned from these peoples. I learned the ways of blunt fighting from the warriors, and the ways of magics from the clerics.
As I was training, I vowed that I would return to that mansion and destroy the undead that had given it the name Unrest . I would avenge my father and the other slain dwarves that had given the mountains the name of Butcherblock . I would slay my uncle s ghost and free his spirit. After that, I would seek out and destroy this Twisted One so that he could harm no other being ever again.
That is how I became the dwarf I am today. I have a vow to uphold, and I will fulfill it or die trying. I took on the name MacLear in honor of the barbarians that saved my life and taught me so much in my youth. I am Agravaine MacLear, dwarven Cleric of Brell Serilis, and I will be avenged on the Twisted one.