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 Gavon Felarian: A Biography

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Gavon Felarian
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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 10, 2011 4:58 pm

“How long have you been down here?” Gavon and Faust stepped from stalactite to stalactite, they where talking about a little of Gavon’s life, and a little of Faust’s life.
“I have lived below the surface world for all of my life.” Faust said, kicking off the tip of a stalactite. “But I have always thought of what it would be like, to live upon the surface.” Gavon turned and put his hand on Faust’s shoulder, nearly getting his hand cut off. Gavon laughed at this child’s likeliness to him.
“You can come with me.” Gavon removed his hand, seeing the young boy’s discomfort. “Today, and possibly for a while, I travel to the surface.”
“Would you like to journey with me?” Gavon saw Faust’s eyes light up. He nodded.
“Then let us return to my group!” Gavon and Faust bounded over the stone spears.

The entire group drew out some sort of weapon, on sight of Faust.
Even the mushroom patch that is N’tac breathed a few poison spores.
“I am Faust.” He said as he entered the fork in the tunnels. He stared at the rag-tag group of people that stood before him.
An odd array of people… Faust thought to himself.
An odd person, this one is… Nesanel thought to himself.
Faust went up to every person in the group and shook their hand; he even said a few kind words to N’tac, recognizing his race and form. Although he sneered at Nesanel, he thought him to look high and mighty.
“Do you know these tunnels?” Spyte asked Faust, an eager and impatient look spread upon his face.
“Yes.” Faust responded.
“Faust can take you to the surface!” Spyte said. “And I can go back and see what has happened, back at the city!” Spyte said. Everyone shrugged, so he bounded back, the way they had came.
He said a quick ‘Farewell’ as he went.
“We should probably leave here.” Gavon said, Nesanel knew why, he did not approve, but he knew.
Once again the group went up the steep stairway of spears, Faust leading them up.
After an hour they could hear the shouts and stomps of pursuers behind them.
They did not follow them far, however.
“I must rest!” Nesanel yelled leaning against a wall.
“Indeed.” Gavon said, crouching on a stout, flat topped, stalactite.
“Oh, yes.” Faust said.
About 40 feet ahead there was a tunnel, it had flat floors, and no stalactites.
“Up here!” Nesanel came up the tunnel, and climbed in.
The entrance to the tunnel was small, you could only crawl through it, but the tunnel it self was large. In fact, it was not really a tunnel at all. This area was a small circular cavern, with just enough space to accommodate, all of the group, plus a hill giant.
The entire group moved into the small cavern, and fit comfortably.
Although there was one problem.
Out of the wall stuck a large pole and it radiated golden light.
This only hurt Gavon’s eyes for a moment, for it was a dim light.
Nesanel tried to pull upon the pole, but it did not budge in the slightest. The metal pole was a gold color, with a hint of orange. It was made of a solid metal, what type of metal, the group could not determine, but said metal was very hard.
It had a gauze-type cloth wrapped around it, this gauze did not seem to want to come off, either.
Beside this pole sat a skeleton, who wore jumbled pieces of armor, of which Gavon took from him and equipped.
“I am going to sleep.” Faust said. Gavon nodded and went to lay down on a blanket, which had been packed in his back-pack.
“Yes…” Nesanel agreed, doing the same as Gavon. N’tac formed back into his single, mushroom-man form.
“Rrure’ftrac nacc’tuc, Ra’ct.” N’tac said, falling on the blanket, with Nesanel.
Nesanel put his hand on top of N’tac’s head, and they fell asleep.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 10, 2011 4:59 pm

Nesanel got up after sleeping only an hour and a half. He slowly opened his eyes, the eyes that instantly darted to the illuminating pole. This pole had spoken to him in his sleep, and now he must own it.
Nesanel climbed off of the stone floor, careful not to wake the ever so peaceful N’tac. Nesanel snuck over to the pole. He planted his hands firmly on it, and pulled with all of his might.
Although, he was still sleepy, so the pole did not budge.
A strange echo of Gavon’s voice, but this voice sounded deeper, rang in the back of his mind.
Who are you?
You are nothing.
Nesanel pulled harder.
This time a different voice spoke, it sounded like a child’s voice.
Who are you?
You are nothing.
Nesanel’s anger grew, every time as the voices spoke, he pulled harder.
Again they chanted, again and again.
Nesanel knew his strength had exceeded his own limits. He saw veins poke out of his arms. He saw his muscles bulge, showing clearly.
Now he heard, clearly, Gavon’s voice, right in his ear.
You are nothing!
Nesanel pulled the pole out of the stone wall, rocks and debris flew everywhere. Blood ran out in a few places, on his arm, but when he held the pole, he could not see what sat on top of it through the dust, he felt as if he had just eaten and received a good night sleep.
“I am Nesanel Wolfblade!” Nesanel shouted his voice sounded clear and strong. He pumped the illuminating object into the air.
He felt so proud.
Nesanel lowered his object in front of his face.
It was an axe.
Its head was gold with a hint of orange. The head had runes, that glowed yellow, and marks that snaked down it.
“N’tanecel!” N’tac cheered, he jumped up and down. Rocks were strewn all about them.
“You got it.” Nesanel said, pointing the axe at him. He pulled the axe back to himself and admired it.
It pulsated, he could feel it. It told him, in clear, angelic, words about his wonderful destiny. It spoke to him of good things, Nesanel felt well when he held it, and listened to its words.
Faust and Gavon stirred awake.
Faust jumped up when he saw the mysterious glowing weapon.
A look of terror spread across Gavon’s face. He felt horrible. He could feel his own terror pulsating back at him, from that glowing axe.
“What the helll is that?!” Gavon jumped up.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Nesanel said, not a question, more like a demand.
“Ru’raTt’up’rup Kaa’tac!” N’tac said, he was dancing. Faust also felt weird around the weapon.
“Are you ready to leave?” Nesanel asked, turning towards them. Nesanel felt like he had slept forever, he had forgotten about their sleep.
“Sure.” Gavon said. Gavon and Faust packed up their blankets.
N’tac was touching the axe and rubbing it.
They all climbed out of the cave, N’tac already in mushroom patch form.
Once again they began moving along the stone spears.

About an hour later, rumbling started shaking the tunnel. The sound of rocks falling and stone grinding on stone. The sound was coming directly towards them.
“Uh, oh.” Gavon looked terrified.
Faust knew also.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 10, 2011 5:00 pm

“What?” Nesanel asked, he had not encountered these creatures much, he knew not the sound of death, the sound that tells that they approach.
“If my ears do not betray me,” Gavon looked to Faust, he shook his head. “Then we are about to experience a large amount of pain.” Faust nodded.
“Why?” Nesanel asked. The rumbling was almost forcing him to fall, so he leaned on the stone wall.
“Do you remember that day, at the Soul Weaver Academy?” Nesanel nodded. “It is the worm.”
A look of fear spread across Nesanel’s face. He could hear that it came right at them.
“What do we d-“ Nesanel was cut short by the Route Sliders entrance.
The worm burst through the tunnel in front of them, going straight up. Faust screamed, but changed to a sigh of relief when he saw the worm had not hit them.
“Route Sliders move in a random direction, when they know that they will die soon.” Gavon responded to Nesanel’s questioning look. “Of old age, of course.” Gavon added, responding to Faust’s questioning look.
“I have an idea.” Faust said. “Route Sliders have spike sticking out of their tail, each with a three-way hook.” The entire group nodded, even through Nesanel had no idea this was true.
“Then let us use it as an elevator!” Gavon finished for him. “The ride to the surface, going straight up, shouldn’t take all that long. If, of course, you can handle it…” Gavon added.
“Yes, let us do that.” Nesanel agreed.
“If we fall to death, it would surely be more preferable than starving or being eaten by a bigger creature than us… Hurry!” Most of the rumbling was above them now, so they could tell that the worm was soon passing. They stood right next to the worms ascending body. Then the body dropped off.
Leaving only the long spears it had on its tail.
“Now!” They all yelled in unison. They jumped off of the ledge, all grasping for the hooks, of the spikes.
Everyone held on to a hook.
Except one.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 10, 2011 5:01 pm

Nesanel cried out. “N’tac!” He yelled after the fast fleeting form. N’tac fell quickly down the hole that the Route Slider had left for them.
“N’tr’tric ruc’avou…” N’tac sobbed. He turned backwards, letting his stomach face the fast approaching stone floor.
“Ohhhh…” N’tac moaned.
The walls passed fast around N’tac, but he did not see these for long.
“N’tanec-“ N’tac was cut short by the stone floor meeting with him.
A cloud of spores flew up.

All was quiet.
The rumbling of the Route Slider was the only noise, and even it seemed to quiet down.
“He was just a pet.” Nesanel stated. They rode out the Route Slider.

“I don’t think I can handle holding on anymore.” Faust shouted over the rumbling.
“Me either.” Nesanel said. Nesanel’s arm had dislocated minutes ago, and he was under a great pain.
The group had ridden the Route Slider for a good half-hour, and now all of their arms felt like they had broken, and then broken a few more times.
“So how do we get off?” Gavon thought aloud.
“Maybe whenever we pass a tunnel, we could drop off, and, hopefully, hold on to the edge.” Nesanel suggested, switching arms. Everyone nodded their agreement. Now they just had to wait, how long? Let’s hope not long.

It was about another ten minutes later when the Route Slider slowed substantially. It almost came to a stop, but it kept going, slowly. The group exchanged looks, passing about thoughts though their stares.
The bottom of a tunnel came into view.
It had just appeared out of the tail of the Route Slider.
Cheers went out from the group. Faust swung from hook to hook, approaching the fast growing hole.
“It is defiantly the bottom of a tunnel.” Faust said, he was looking into it, and it grew even more. Now it was about big enough to get a crawling man through it.
“OK, you go first, Faust, and I will go last.” Gavon offered. Faust slipped through the hole, offering his hand to Nesanel. Nesanel had to put his weapons into the hole first, because he could not fit. Nesanel finally got through. The Route Slider came to a complete stop.
“Come on, Gavon!” Faust and Nesanel both offered helping hands.
Gavon swung over and blood fell from the Route Slider. The blood tapped steadily on Gavon head. Nesanel looked, horrified. Blood was oozing down the wall everywhere.
“Come on!” Faust shouted, pulling him in. Once they where all inside the tunnel they stood facing the side of the Route Slider, who had blood dripping down all over.
“What in God’s name…” Faust trailed off.
The Route Slider began descending, its bloody fold slamming against the edge of the tunnel, and then passing.
“Why?” Gavon asked, although he already knew the answer.
Finally the worm’s head passed them. And the group could now see clearly, its bloody broken face.
“Why?” Gavon asked again. Who, or what, had done this?
Primitive and guttural grunts, the grunts that is the ogre language, sounded above them.
The group retreated down the tunnel, which ascended steeply.
These tunnels lead the opposite way as the first tunnel, heading in the direction of the Chaos Weaver Nation, but ascending. If they continued along this way, they would, by about 100 feet, go over the Nation.
They all began running, as fast as they can, down the tunnel, mainly doing so to escape the enemy, but also doing so to stretch their legs.
They reached a three-way intersection.
One way went forward, taking them down the same tunnel, and another tunnel branched in, coming in from the right, from the group’s perspective.
“We should continue along this tunnel.” Nesanel signed in the world-wide recognized sign language.
They began hearing more ogres down the right tunnel.
Everyone nodded and continued their sprint, along the tunnel. An ogre dropped down from a hole in the ceiling.
“He-ha ha!” It laughed. Six more dropped down, as well.
Nesanel acted instantly, pulling his axe from his back and dropping the ogres head. Nesanel then continued by biting the Blade of Twilight deep into another ogres breast.
Faust was quick to take action as well.
Faust took out each of his rusty blades, and kicked an ogre down, stabbing it repeatedly in the chest with his daggers.
Gavon executed a few fancy sword routines, downing a few ogres himself.
After only seconds of battle, all of the ogres lay dead at the boys’ feet. They had not even been able to let off an alarm.
“Come on!” Faust rushed them, beginning to run again.
Now they could hear the crashing of rocks, and caving in tunnels.
Once again they where running.
It seemed like forever, to Gavon, until they reached safety, until the ever so familiar sound of destruction faded out of his ears.
They all dropped down into a seated position.
“Now that was an escape!” Faust exhaled, running a hand through his rough black hair.
“Do we just keep running now?” Gavon asked them. Nesanel shrugged.
Nesanel stood up.
“Lets keep moving. They could be on our trail, so let’s leave a longer one.” Nesanel said, staring down the tunnel they where going down. So they, once again set off, but this time in silence.

Once again the group heard falling rock and stone sliding upon stone. The sound was coming up and a fast speed and it was still some ways below them. They continued walking, and turned a corner, standing face to face with a dead end.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Mon Aug 15, 2011 12:38 pm

Faust put his ear to the stone wall.
“It is only about a 10 inch thick wall.” He said, pressing his ear to different places upon the wall. “There also seems to be rumbling from the other side.”
Nesanel stepped up, whipping out the Blade of Twilight, and cutting a few deep gashes in the wall. Nesanel sheathed his sword, and pulled out his mysterious illuminating axe, and began bashing and chopping the wall.
A small hole appeared in wall, letting through a dim beam of light.
Nesanel continued his bombardment, until, finally, the entire wall crumbled, showing a large shaft, which stretched upward, and downward.
A thick chain cranked on the shafts left wall. They looked down and saw a stone floor, one about 30 feet away, rising toward them.
The stone floor was rising to them at a decent pace. Faust backed away from the edge of the tunnel, and Nesanel eased towards it, looking down at the fast approaching stone slab.
“What do you think it is fo-” Nesanel was cut short by the rough leather boot of Faust, digging into his back.
Nesanel fell over the edge, racing towards the stone slab, which was racing up to meet him.
“What?” Gavon wheeled upon Faust. “Why would you do such a thing?” Gavon exclaimed, whipping about his sword, just incase Faust intended the same fate for him.
“He is not like us, Gavon; we are but tunnel rats to him.” Faust smoothed his words out of his mouth. “The purity reeks about him, and such purity is completely absent within us.”
“No.” Gavon rolled to the side, and kicked Faust squarely in the chest, sending him spiraling over the edge, and then jumped in after him.

Nesanel hit the stone slab, nearly breaking his left leg, and a few ribs. A second or two after the impact, Nesanel fell again further.
He fell through the stone slab, and landed upon another one.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Mon Aug 15, 2011 3:44 pm

Nesanel was in a tiny room, filled with chaos weavers.
“Spyte?” Nesanel asked blearily. Spyte grabbed him by the neck, and hoisted him up, holding him against the wall. A few of the other chaos weavers riding with them pointed spears, and swords, at Nesanel.
“Where is he?” Spyte spat, venom dripping from every word. Nesanel looked upon Spyte as if he had grown a second head.
“What are you talking about?” Nesanel asked. Gavon and Faust then bust through the ceiling.
Spyte dropped Nesanel, and strode over the heap that was Gavon and Faust. Spyte grabbed Gavon, and pinned him against the floor, tightening a rope over his wrists.
“Punishment is in order.” Spyte put a knee into Gavon’s back. “Our chaos weavers saw you, and your magical detonator. “
Gavon twisted his hands, grabbing a hold of the knife at Spyte waist. A few careful wrist flicks, and Gavon was free and on his feet, holding his blade and Spyte’s knife carefully to Spyte’s throat. The elevator stopped, thanks to a chaos weaver nonchalantly knocking a sequence upon the elevator wall.
Gavon flicked Spyte’s dagger, nailing the chaos weaver who stopped the elevators hand to the wall. Spyte reached out to his fallen brother, but was restrained.
The elevator shuddered, and began ascending, this time at a much faster rate.
The elevator kept gaining speed, until the riders where almost forced to the ground.
“What is it that you want to accomplish?” Spyte asked. “Surely you gain nothing but a few trinkets, from the ill righteous Chaos Weaver.” Spyte meant Vaal.
Spyte was just waiting until he could turn the situation around.
“Surely you do no-“ The elevator bumped violently, knocking its inhabitant to the floor, and sending Gavon’s sword across the floor, to Faust’s hands.
Gavon bashed his head upon the floor, knocking him into a deep comatose state.
Nesanel gasped as he saw blood pool around Gavon’s thick black hair.
Faust looked menacingly around the room, holding Gavon’s sword out.
Once again the elevator rumbled, and shook.
And then came to an abrupt stop.
The roof and some of the walls, caved in, as another roof crushed it.
Those lying down where safe, but those standing had to act quickly.
A wall fell down, revealing a tunnel.
Nesanel grabbed Gavon, and threw him over his shoulder, and ran out into the tunnel, just as a large stone blocked Nesanel from the rest of the group.
While Nesanel ran, he worked free a rag from his bag, and tied it around Gavon’s head wound.
Nesanel just kept running, until his legs wouldn’t carry him, and then some more.
When he finally took a break, he noticed a sign on the wall.
It was in Arachnen, the language of the spider people.
Nesanel did not know how to read the language, but he knew that Gavon did. Nesanel knew of a spell where, if spoken to a comatose person, the person would translate a language to the spellcasters will. Nesanel took the sign off the wall, and sat down by Gavon, trying to remember the words.
“Vrneat’acarum, Welifanis, tra Tra.” Nesanel’s words came haltingly, and misguided, but they sent a twitch of recognition through Gavon.
Gavon mouth dropped open and silently recited Nesanel’s magic words. When he was done Nesanel spoke the words of the sign.
“Exit into Surface in South tunnel. At intersection, turn east. Beware of cave-in’s.” Gavon spoke smoothly, and softly, talking at the same speed as Nesanel, taking no hesitation in his words.
Nesanel pulled out a magical compass, and lifted Gavon once more.
He began running down the tunnel.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Tue Aug 23, 2011 4:19 pm

They had reached the intersection when Gavon came to.
Gavon’s eye flared open, revealing a burning fire underneath.
Gavon shoved away from Nesanel, looking upon the tunnel they sat in.
“Where are we? Where is Faust?” Gavon turned upon Nesanel.
“Faust was left behind, with the Chaos Weavers… and we are in a tunnel to…” Nesanel fidgeted. “…To the Surface.” Nesanel finished. Gavon had suspected that was where they were, for he could feel the thinness of the air, and the elevation of light.
As Nesanel checked his compass, spinning in a few tight circles, Gavon tapped the walls.
“What happened?” Gavon felt the cloth wrap on his head, the wrap was soaked in blood.
“While you where threatening to kill one of the powerful chaos weavers,” Nesanel glared at Gavon. “The elevator crashed, knocking you to the floor, and bashing your head on the ground… do you feel alright?” Nesanel flipped his compass back into a pocket, and felt the cloth wrap on Gavon’s head.
“I feel… fine.” Feet rapped upon the floor, in the distance. “We should leave.” Gavon added nervously.
Nesanel shook his head, remembering that he was running from Gavon’s problems.
But, Gavon was Nesanel’s friend, and he wouldn’t leave him.
“Let’s go.” Nesanel and Gavon ran down the easterly tunnel.
It seemed running was all they did, these days.

“Now we near the end.” Gavon announced. “It is night on the Surface.” He added.
Nesanel nodded.
“You will not see the Surface.” A dark looming voice resounded coming from no particular direction.
“Run, Nesanel, my fight is with Gavon.” Vae’njaece stepped out from the shadows, blocking their way to the tunnel.
Vae’n’s trench coat billowed in the nonexistent breeze, and his soul claws gleamed violently.
A pair of glowing eyes stared out at them from below an array of black hair.
“Nesanel, you may leave. I recognize your innocence.” Vae’n’s eyes fell upon Gavon. “But you are guilty.” Gavon froze inwardly, but overcame it quickly.
“What will you do to him? Kill him?” Nesanel asked nervously, looking back between Gavon and Vae’n.
“We will not meet injustice with injustice. I intend to capture him, and punish him. But his death will not soon follow.” Vae’n nodded inwardly at Nesanel’s care. “A fair fight will take place. No allies lie at my back, none will lie at yours, Gavon.”
Nesanel stepped back, and watched the two closely.
Vae’n saw Gavon’s lack of weapons, so he threw him a basic longsword.
“Let us see what you are made of.” Vae’n taunted, as a circle of soul claws, varying in element, surrounded him.
The two men of the tunnels clashed, banging weapon upon weapon. They joined in a carefully executed dance, a limb meeting a limb, and a sword meeting a sword.
Gavon fended off the wave of soul claws, flicking his sword in circles, and wide sweeps.
Vae’n likewise fenced.
The same battle went on for nearly an hour, until both fighters slipped, and fell backward.
The breath was knocked out of Gavon, but Vae’n dove his wave of ethereal soul claws in for the kill.
“Krachu gavai!” Gavon screamed. An army of skeletal hands reached up from the stone, and pulled Gavon into the earth.
Gavon flew out from the earth behind Vae’n, planting a firm kick into his back. Gavon flipped around and faced Nesanel.
“Go!” He shouted, spawning three skeletons to delay Vae’n.
Gavon pulled Nesanel to him, and ran down the tunnel.
Nesanel shook free from his grasp.
“I will not take part of your evil!” Nesanel stomped a foot. “I follow you now because I have to, not because I want to. Know that, Felarian.” Nesanel stormed forward, and Gavon followed, flinching at slow step they took. He wished they could go faster, but he did not want to leave Nesanel, and he did not want to talk to him.
The light level increased dramatically, once the exit from the tunnels was just a few yards away.
“Gah!” Gavon cried, shielding his eyes, and falling to his knees. Nesanel grimaced and grunted, but kept going. A massive headache hit Gavon, but he stood up and ran to reach Nesanel.
“What do we do once we reach the Surface?”
You can do whatever you want.” Nesanel squared his shoulders as he was 8 feet from the exit.
Gavon’s eyes flew open, and he franticly looked about, as the cave began rumbling.
Many rocks fell over the exit of the cave, leaving just enough room to crawl though.
Nesanel broke into a run.
Rocks pelted Gavon, opening old wounds, and beginning new ones.
“Help me!” Gavon shouted to the fast fleeting back of Nesanel. Nesanel looked back at him, and kept running.
Gavon’s hands clenched as the rocks piled about him, and he released most of his energy, focusing it into a single wave.
The rocks flew away, and he started running after the exit.
“You cannot escape me!” Vae’n screamed, frustrated. Gavon dropped onto his back, and slid threw the tiny exit hole. Nesanel covered his eyes, and scanned the area.
They were in a large clearing, in the middle of a forest. Trees littered with boxes and wooden planks surrounded them, and box-like creatures skittered all about them.
A final rumble echoed from the tunnel, and it collapsed. Gavon sat, putting his back against a large pile of ruble, which blocked the entrance to the cave. Gavon was worn out, after the energy it took to move the fast growing pile of rocks, about him.
The moon shone brightly in the sky, and the stars looked nearly like the fire Gavon could feel, in his eyes.
“Necromancy.” Nesanel spat, turning an accusing eye to Gavon. “Why, Gavon?”
Gavon dropped his head, looking to the grass.
“So… so I could bring back the people I loved.” Nesanel was obviously taken aback by the answer. Nesanel shook his head, and paced.
“And blowing up the Chaos Weavers gate?” Nesanel turned to Gavon again, accusation taking his eye once more.
“I… I don’t know.”
“I can’t imagine wh-“ Another rumble shook the cave, and a green-ish longsword protruded from Gavon’s chest.
Muttering a few spidery words, Gavon dropped forward, showing the green longsword protruding from the ruble.
Nesanel caught Gavon as he lurched forward.
Vae’n stepped forward, magically passing through the rocks.


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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Mon Aug 29, 2011 11:45 am

“Gavon! No!” Nesanel held him up, and checked his breathing, and pulse.
Nothing.
“What have you done?!” Nesanel lay Gavon down, and faced Vae’n, pulling out his axe.
You will pay for this!” Nesanel threatened.
“Don’t do this, Nesanel.”
“Do not command me, murderer!”
Soul claws shot out of Vae’n’s hands, and Nesanel made a heavy swing at Vae’n’ stomach.
Vae’n narrowly dodged the axe, and blocked another attack.
Vae’n began panting early on in the battle, still weary from Gavon’s attack. The fighters battled for ten minutes, until Vae’n kicked Nesanel in the chest.
“I gave him what he deserved.” Vae’n reasoned. “Necromancy!” Vae’n spat. Vae’n helped Nesanel up, pulling him to his feet. “He was a burden to the world. You have seen the darkness in him.”
Nesanel shook his head, not in disagreement, but in disbelief.
“And now I must take his body back to the Nation.” Vae’n hefted Gavon onto his shoulder. Nesanel grabbed him by the arm, and turned him around.
“Wait! I want to bury him here.” Nesanel crossed his arms.
“He is a criminal, he m-“
“I don’t care!” Nesanel shouted. “He spent his whole life trying to reach the Surface, and he made it. You can’t take that away from him.”
“I suppose you are right.” Vae’n sighed.
So, for the next half hour, the duo dug a shallow grave, for Gavon.
They did this in silence, and with remorse, and soon they finished.
“Will you help me put him in?” Nesanel hoisted Gavon over his shoulder, and lay him down in the ground, Vae’n helping him soothe him in. Then, silently, they covered Gavon’s cold body in earth.
Gavon’s black eyes stared unto the sky, as stars twinkled in and out, as if trying to hide from his black gaze.
Earth matted his dark hair, and flecks of dirt stained his peaceful visage. Hand after hand of dirt fell on his face, and Gavon was visible no more.
“I suppose that is the end.” Nesanel patted the earth of Gavon grave, as he stuck a large piece of stone above where Gavon’s head was.
Vae’n wordlessly slipped back into the dark tunnels, and Nesanel remained, silent, before starting off for a distance castle, nestled in a large, loving, oak. The moonlight hit Nesanel’s eye right as he realized his freedom, at what cost.
So goes the life, and story, of the tormented Gavon.
But is it truly over?
Never.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 31, 2011 12:02 pm

The Rising


A pale hand poked out of its shallow, disrespectful grave.
Its fingers clenched and unclenched repeatedly, until they started twitching, and blood ran from its wrists.
The hand started withering in the dirt, as another, identical hand popped out a few feet from it.
This hand was just as pale and tinted green, if not blue, and it likewise began twitching.
This went on until a groan of frustration sounded from the grave, and the hand’s popped back into the earth.
“Narla, ura’baine ovlha!” The earth itself seamed to exclaim. And a black figure rose from the grave, slowly ascending, to float over its grave.
The figure dropped, having already spent a good bit of energy escaping from its black prison of dirt.
It stared at the ground, hiding its eyes from the night.
A revenant pale against the moonlight.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 31, 2011 3:14 pm

Its black hair was matted with dirt, and even blood. And its hands where shaking at its side. The head looked up at the thin, ragged but proud, figure in front of him.
The creature’s eyes where a bright green, and his face was gaunt and pale.
“’Ello, Gavon.” The figure before the creature said casually, as if talking to an old friend.
The creature, Gavon, could smell his blood in this man.
“You are more my child than ever, eh?” The man tapped his foot.
“You aren’t real. You are dead…” Gavon looked thoughtfully at the man, and cocked his head. “…Father.” Gavon finished, and stood up. Two small fangs poked out of mouth, and they poked over his lower lip.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Aug 31, 2011 7:43 pm

The man flicked a thick muzzle at Gavon, and let out a loud roar, allowing the full moonlight to gleam on his canine teeth.
“Oh, I am real.” As quick as the man changed, he changed back, and came back in control, even quicker. The man walked up to Gavon, and laid a clawed hand on his shoulder.
“And I am out there. I am watching you.“ The man took and step back and smiled, bearing fangs near identical to Gavon’s.
“My worst fears, at least they where my worst fears,” The man smiled wider. “Have not come to pass. But I suppose that this was your first… eh, near transformation.” He nodded. “The excursion of all that energy, that spellcasting requires must have raised your heartbeat dramatically, and the full moon only helped.” Gavon struck the man on the mouth with his cold hand, which had not warmed since his raising.
Gavon let out a grunt of pain. The man’s jaw was as strong as steel.
And, in turn, the man struck Gavon, with about the force of a stampede of Gorriliphants.
A large concentration of spirits where within Gavon, and they all told him to kill this man, all the while trying to take over Gavon’s body. Gavon nodded a smiling approval at his success at taking all of these spirits within himself.
Gavon jumped backward and chanted a few magical words, summoning an ethereal sword.
Gavon swung quickly, executing several different sword moves, giving his father a few bloody wounds upon his forearms.
But now it was his fathers turn.
His father was now fully a monster, and he pounced upon Gavon, slashing at Gavon’s face, and trying to claw his legs with his feet.
Gavon pushed the flat of his blade against his father’s chest, keeping his tearing teeth away from his face.
But Gavon could not hold for long, exhausted by the major amount of magic he had used today.
Gavon’s father fell upon him, crushing the air out of him, and grazing his teeth upon his face.
Gavon grasped frantically around, grabbing something from the monsters waist, and smashing it against his fathers face.
The monster screeched, and fell backward, withering against the ground.
“What the hell was that?!” Gavon shot upward, losing control of the magic that bound his sword, so it disappeared.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Thu Sep 01, 2011 10:39 pm

“Acid!” Gavon’s father screamed and cursed, clawing at his burning face.
Gavon scrambled about, not knowing what to do. But then he stopped, and once again spoke a few magic words, nearly causing his limited energy to exhaust, and pass him out.
And the ethereal sword once again appeared in his hands.
“Wha-? What are you doing?!” Gavon’s father stretched out, and looked at Gavon with horror. “No, no, no, no…!” He turned over and bounded away…
Not fast enough.
Gavon put a foot into his back, and struck the sword entirely through the back of his neck.
The beast howled, and slowly turned back into a human.
The sword disappeared, and Gavon stepped off of him. Gavon’s eyes shone with glee, and his fangs gleamed white.
“You want your freedom?” Gavon’s father mocked, somehow still alive. “Take it.”
He stood up again, his face nearly melted away, and blood running from his throat.
He ran a hand lightly down his face, and touched the blood on his chest.
Gavon’s father rasped a chuckle, and Gavon once more struck him upon the face, and then once more.
“What is your name?” Gavon stopped and asked. A low rumble resounded in his father’s chest.
“I am Kack. Kack Felarian.” He responded, blood flowing freely from his fanged mouth.
Gavon broke his father’s legs, with magic, and kicked him in the chest, pushing him back.
Gavon then walked past the prone form of his father, walking toward the keep in the oak, in the distance.
“Wait! Where are you going?” The man pushed himself up on his hands and knees. “Get back here! You aren’t free, you are mine! My son!” Gavon turned back.
“No one is my master.” Gavon shook his head, smiling. “Certainly not you or your curse. My willpower runs deeper than that. Now, bleed to death like a good dog.” Gavon turned and walked away, again.
Gavon grinned as he walked away, loving necromancy.

“Halt, um…” The knight at the gate stopped when he took in the full image of Gavon.
“What… what is your business here?” The knight slouched for a moment, but then shot back into a straight posture.
“I only seek refuge, my good man.” Gavon smiled warmly, and stood up straight.
“Oh… ok, fine.” The knight looked Gavon up and down, and decided he was safe.
He made a few gestures to someone out of sight on the wall.
The door slowly creaked open, and the knight saluted. “Have a nice stay in our homely keep.” He smiled faintly, forcing a smile at all.
“Yes…” Gavon replied as he strode through the gate, and he turned around to see everyone on the wall looking at him. Once he looked to them, they all averted their gaze, and nervously continued about their tasks.
Once Gavon was inside a man in Knight armor, wearing a doctor mask, who was talking with another knight stopped and rushed over to Gavon.
“Are you ok, friend?” The knight clamored, nonchalantly pulling the doctors mask over his mouth. Gavon flashed a crooked grin.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Fri Sep 02, 2011 4:24 pm

“I am fine, good man.” He put a hand the mans shoulder. And the knight shook his head.
“No, I think you should come with me, I can at least give you something to warm you. You are as cold as ice!” The man lead Gavon inside of his residence, which was filled with potions, and sick people.
“Here…” He said throwing a blanket to Gavon, and rummaging around in a pile of bottles.
“Where have you been, anyway? Dragesvard? That would be a fair guess, considering your cool, and your lack of sun. Ah, here we are.” The doctor turned back around holding a bottle of brandy.
Gavon took it, and drank. It felt like fire running down his throat, and though his insides burned, he kept a blank look upon his face.
“So, what is your name and where did you come from?” The man asked, holding out a hand. “I am Sir Junn.” Gavon could not help but chuckle.
“I am Gavon Felarian.” Gavon took the hand, and near squeezed it from the mans wrist. And then Gavon seemed thoughtful. “And I came from… Dragesvard.” Gavon decided to leave out as many questions as possible.
“And what are you doing ‘ere?” The man pulled a blanket over a prone man on a bed a little more.
“I am… I came because… I am a Hero!” Gavon stuttered, but he finished matter-of-factly. “And I am going across Lore, doing quests!”
The man looked a bit taken aback.
“Oh, my! Maybe you could do a few things around here?” The man suddenly had an all new outlook on Gavon. “Most everyone here seems to need help… Especially with the sneevils! I hate those little things…” He drifted off, naming off possibilities.
“You should probably start with the fabled weapons of Sir Jing!” He took out a scroll. “Since you haven’t gained our trust just yet, you can’t really handle anything else… OK, here, give this to the two men outside.” The doctor handed the scroll to Gavon. “I am glad you came along, Gavon. Lore needs as many Hero’s as it can get.” A sad look crossed his face, but he dispelled it, and shoo’ed Gavon off, tending to some patients.
Outside, there were only two men, by a catapult, so Gavon walked up, holding the scroll.
Gavon handed the parchment scroll to them, and they read it.
“Off you go, then!” One of them said, pushing him toward the catapult.
“What?! Wait! What are you doing?!” Gavon easily overpowered the two knights.
“How do you expect to get there without a catapult?” The question seemed so absurd, that Gavon just crawled up into the catapult, without argument.
“Ho!” One of the knights said, and chopped the rope holding the catapult. “Farewell!”
“How do I get back?!” But Gavon was already gone.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Tue Sep 06, 2011 6:12 pm

I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die! Gavon thought.
Gavon spoke quickly, and had finished his words right before he landed, and he hung suspended in the air over a pile of… mattresses?
“Surface people are… unpredictable, to say the least.” Gavon murmured as he released the spell, dropping onto the pile.
Gavon landed lightly, deftly rolling off the pile, and jumping to his feet.
In front of him lie a large ruin, which mostly consisted of a stone floor, a few pillars, and a large staircase leading to a platform, that light radiated from.
“Well, that is my objective…” Gavon held the blade, he had recently acquired, with the blade facing backward. Gavon ran up the pile of mattresses, and jumped off the top, landing before a field of monsters.
Small thunderheads floated gently over the ground, as well as living embodiments of water.
The first puddle of water slid up to Gavon, and threw a few watery punches, but never making it close, Gavon didn’t even break step, stabbing the life out of the embodiment.
Gavon jumped into the air, landing belly first into the crowd.

Gavon began ascending the stairs with water dripping off his sword, and other than that, no sign that he had been in battle.
Whenever Gavon reached the landing, he jumped backwards, and hid behind stairs.
What are those… things? Gavon thought to himself.
He saw one embodiment of water, which stood up like a man, and one embodiment of wind that did the same.
And the last embodiment was… fire?!
Gavon released heavy breath, and jumped over onto the landing.
Once he came into sight, the embodiments flew at him, throwing punches, and even blasts of their respective element.
But Gavon was too quick, and strong, for any of them, and they where all dead within a matter of second.
Gavon grunted his satisfaction at the ease of that quest, and then gasped when he saw the chest. Gavon chuckled a little, and opened the chest.
Inside lay a staff, with sparks jumping up and down its length, a sword was thin and shaped to resemble a bolt of lightning, and daggers that looked as little crystallized bolts.
Gavon smiled and pulled a blanket from his pack, wrapping the weapons in it.
Now Gavon wondered how he would get back to Oaklore.
Then he saw the catapult not to far away, facing the town.
Gavon and laughed and jumped up into it, cutting the rope that bound the catapult from firing.
“Ho!” Gavon bellowed as he flew off.

Gavon landed directly outside of the walls, and he quickly recovered from his landing into mattresses, and scaled the wall.
He was up and over the wall in a matter of seconds, and then he was off to the two men with the catapult.
“Now, what do I get?” Gavon asked as he slammed the blanket with the weapons of Sir Jing down.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Thu Sep 08, 2011 5:23 pm

“But, you’re a hero… shouldn’t being helpful be reward e-“
“No.” Gavon cut him off. The two knights exchanged a few looks, and then one of them grudgingly removed his purse.
Gavon swiped it from his hand and nodded his approval.
The men where about to object, but a vicious glare made them stop.
Gavon walked into Sir Junn’s office, and sat down, next to a dying man.
“How did you do?” Sir Junn asked, tending to a wounded patient from across the room.
“Good.” Gavon laid a hand on the man lying next to him, and that man died, silently. “What do I do now?” Gavon stood up and walked over to the doctor, standing over the patient as well.
“Since you have proven yourself at least a little trustworthy, I suppose someone here might have a sneevil quest for you…” Sir Junn replied, lifting up his patients arm, and wrapping it in gauze.
“I suppose that would be good…” For an instant Gavon wondered what a ‘sneevil’ was, but he realized it must have been a variation of a sneev-mole, for he knew the sneev-mole had many cousins.
The two stood there for a minute, and then Sir Junn looked up.
“What are you waiting for, hero?” He asked.
Gavon scowled a little bit at the name, but simply nodded and walked out.
“Hey! Hero, wait! You only gave us the staff and the sword, where is the dagger?” The two men manning the catapult asked.
“I suppose I must have dropped it…” A brief look of thoughtfulness crossed Gavon face, and then he continued on. The two men shrugged and tinkered with the catapult, and a crossbow.
When Gavon reached the main gate area, a tall man stood to his left.
“Oh! The new Hero!” Once again Gavon flinched at the title. “I saw you brought the legendary weapons of Sir Jing back to us! Now that you’ve earned a little trust, I think I might be able to give you a quest or two… who am I kidding, I have thousands of sneevil related things to be done! You don’t ‘ave to do ALL of them though.” The man spoke quickly, and flashed Gavon a wink by the end.
Gavon nodded and winked back.
He hated this man.
“Good, good… Alright, ‘ere, there is a… medium to small sneevil box fort to the east,” The man threw an arm in an easterly direction. “causin’ us no end of trouble.”
The man obviously was asking Gavon to accept.
“Ok, I will ‘handle’ them.” Gavon laughed. The man did not find it funny.
Gavon walked off, east, and ran up the wall, throwing himself over.
He found the boxfort with ease, and he slaughtered every last sneevil there, with even greater ease.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Tue Sep 13, 2011 4:38 pm


One Week Later.


Gavon’s week had been filled with relentless sneevil extermination quests, and even a few quests to kill a few bands of bandits.
All of these quests he handled with ease, and he was soon growing accustom to slaughtering a colony of sneevils, daily.
Until one day he went up to his quest giver.
“Hah! Another quest? There is no more, from me! You’ve done most everything I can think I needed doing!” Then the man looked thoughtful, and then he nodded and smiled.
“There is no more sneevils? Bandits? Something I could…” Gavon was about to say kill, but he knew the knight would not appreciate that. “… Help out with?”
The knight shook his head.
For the next day Gavon simply wandered the keep, waiting for something to happen.
Gavon was about to leave the keep when a large man in shining armor approached him.
“Hail, Hero!” The man said, and he used a large golden hammer as a cane. “I have heard that you have exhausted every person, in the keep, who needed a hand. No small task! I have also heard good reports of you from all of my knights, especially Sir Junn!” The big man bellowed.
Gavon inclined his head at the praise. But the man was not done.
“I would be honored to have you as one of my Pactogonal Knights.” The man croaked.
Gavon’s eyes widened, a little bit. Truly, Gavon had not known what the name of the Knighthood was called, for he had not thought to ask, but now that he knew, he chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.
But then all expression vanished from Gavon’s face, and he stared at the man with bloodshot eyes.
“Ah, but the honor is mine, sir.” Gavon bowed. “How can I decline?” A crooked grin split upon Gavon’s face.
“Wonderful!” The man looked behind him, and shook Gavon’s hand, once more. “By the way, my name is Rolith.” The man, Rolith, smiled and motioned for Gavon to follow him, into the heart of the keep.
“Before you can become a Pactogonal Knight you must take a test, which every knight has taken.” They made their way into the keep, pushing the door open to reveal a table with two knights talking over ale.
“It is fairly easy, but, you must tell no one about the trials you faced, during it.” Gavon nodded at Rolith’s side, and they began to ascend the spiral staircase.
“And after the test you will fully be Pactogonal Knight, and you will receive your Pac Blade, if you so choose to accept it.” Now they reached the top of the stairs, and a group knights where circled around a map of Lore, shaped like a pentagon, and two others sat and drank ale.
“In the room behind this room, a room in which I cannot show you, yet, is where you shall be knighted.” Rolith spoke solemnly.
They began descending the stairs, now.
“Tomorrow, you will take your test.” Rolith’s armor jingled as he stepped down the stairs. “I hope you will be sufficiently ready.”
“I will.” Gavon nodded and shook Rolith’s hand, then left, walking out and into Sir Junn’s office.
Sir Junn was tending to a patient, as always.
As Gavon walked in Sir Junn didn’t look up, but instead only raised an eyebrow.
“Tomorrow I shall take the test, to be a knight.” Only then did Sir Junn look up, and a brief expression of excitement took over his visage.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Thu Sep 15, 2011 6:25 pm

“You should probably do a little training, and rest up.” Sir Junn received the utensil and said a brief ‘thank you’.
“You are probably right…” Gavon looked down to the sword at his waist and came up with an idea. “If you are not to busy, maybe we could spar.”
Gavon felt a need to know his friend prowess.
“I never did a lot to become better with a sword. I usually healed the patients, and tried to further my medical skill.” Sir Junn explained, while pulling a sheathed sword from a pile of books.
“Do not fret; I will go easy on you…” Gavon whipped his sword about, and took a few steps back and only stopped until he felt grass touch his feet.
Sir Junn nodded and unsheathed a jeweled sword.
The sword glimmered as it was revealed in sunlight, and the coastguard was made up of exquisite rubys, and sapphires. The blade was long and golden, and the handle was wrapped in linen.
“Ho!” Sir Junn bellowed as he thrust his sword at Gavon, faster than the eye could see, and began circling Gavon, his sword never stopping.
Sir Junn began to beat his weapon upon Gavon, and said. “Oh, did I mention that I won the Pactogonal Sword competition two years in a row?” Sir Junn parried a few blows, and delivered some of his own.
“Impressive, sir. But did I mention I beat everyone in the Stones ‘Aet Warrior Academy to a pulp?” Gavon jumped in the air, slicing downward, but every blow was met and returned.
“That is enough! I am not going easy on you, anymore!” Gavon moved as fast anyone could see, and his blade was invisible.
Sir Junn let out a grunt of exhaustion, as his part of the battle consisted of dodging and parrying, but mostly he couldn’t even do that. Fortunately his armor protected him from serious injury.
After a minute, a large crowd had gathered to watch the spar, and even, after a while, Rolith came and watched.
Sir Junn was forced into a corner. Gavon blows were so powerful that his limbs were like jam, and if he made one wrong move, one that his fading strength couldn’t support, then he would collapse.
Gavon went into a last burst of power, and jumped into the air, again, slashing downward, forcing Sir Junn to block with the last of his energy.
The power of the blows sent Sir Junn’s feet inches into the earth, and his blade was stained black and red.
Gavon let out a savage war cry and hit one last time, his blow landed, carrying a large explosion, and the two men were left in a crater.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Wed Oct 05, 2011 11:43 am

“Good spar!” Cried Sir Junn, trying not to collapse in front of everyone. Gavon revealed a crooked grin.
He loved to see Sir Junn squirm, especially since he caused the discomfort.
Blood gushed from a long, piercing, slash, in his armor. He quickly hobbled inside, and shut the door. And you could hear him fall back against the door.
All of the knights were speechless as they regarded the crater, and the man who made it.
“Gavon, that was… a strong display of power, to say the least…” Rolith kneeled down and felt the rim of the crater, which was warm.
“You should rest.” Rolith finished.
Gavon nodded and was helped out of the crater.
The knights there shunned him for what he had done, nearly killing Sir Junn, and a few knights gathered, not to mention tearing up the earth directly in the middle of the keep.
Gavon lowered his head, and looked down, walking out.
Once Gavon hit the door to the tavern, in the keep, he was greeted with the sweet smell of slime jelly, and roast boar.
“Ah…” Gavon sighed in satisfaction. Gavon flicked a silver coin to the man at the bar, who was wearing a boars head, and flopped down on a bed, in a back room.
Sleep came easily, but it went fitfully.


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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Mon Oct 10, 2011 9:28 pm

The morning sunlight flowed through the window by Gavon’s bed, and it pierced his sleeping eyes.
“No, no, no… Please don’t take her… Ah!” Gavon shot straight up, screaming at the top of his lungs.
A knight burst through the door, and pulled out a sword.
“Ah, it is just you… Is everything alright in here?” The knight, Sir Valence, asked, not truly concerned, but feeling as if he had to ask.
The knight pulled out a canteen of whiskey, and offered it to Gavon, who took it and drained it.
“I am fine… just… night terrors…” Gavon shook his head as if to knock the memories out of his mind.
“Aye…” The knight nodded his head, and seemed to drift off. Then he came back to his senses. “You better hurry, to your test, I mean, it begins soon.” The man took back his canteen and scowled at its light weight, then left, closing the door after himself.
“Thank you.” Gavon stood up and dressed himself in light armor he had given to him, as a gift; from a blacksmith who heard he was a Hero.
Once he was dressed he shouldered his pack, which contained only essentials, and exited his room, closing the door behind him.
The man at the bar still wore his boar’s head, even though it appeared as if he could not see in it, and he waved as he heard the feet exiting the bar.
“Safe travels!” The muffled voice rose from the boars head.
“And you.” Gavon responded, and the man shivered.
Gavon exited the tavern and saw a large concentration of men, and Captain Rolith, standing in the middle of Oaklore.
Gavon walked up to the group, pushing aside men as he waded towards Rolith.
Once Gavon reached Rolith, Rolith’s voice rang out.
“Are you ready for the trials of a Pactogonal Knight?” Rolith laid a hand on Gavon’s shoulder.
“I am, Captain.” Gavon laid a hand on Rolith’s shoulder. Rolith leaned in.
“Good luck, friend.” Rolith retreated his hand, and held it up high. All of the knights knew what the gesture meant, and they cheered.
“Begin the test!”

You find that there is a long line of text, here. But all of the text has been scratched out, and you see a small line of text below it.
“Revealing the trials of the Pactogonal Test is un-allowed; therefore, I cannot speak to you of it.
Maybe, if you convinced Rolith to agree, I could write about it one day.”
The story continues here.



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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Sun Oct 30, 2011 8:32 pm

Gavon limped back from the wilderness, back from the trials of a Pactogonal Knight. Gavon had not found this test hard, or even challenging, but he had been shot in the thigh by an arrow, from a concealed dispenser.
As Gavon returned to the walls of the keep, he was greeted by knight high upon the ramparts.
“Hail, Hero!” One knight said, and he threw down a ladder, which Gavon promptly climbed.
“How went your test?” The knight asked, drawing the ladder back up. Gavon simply gestured to his leg wound, and pushed the man out of the way, jumping down to the ground of the keep.
“Gavon! You have returned! Have you the gem which shows that you have, truly, completed the test?”
Gavon nodded and pulled out a small bag, to which Rolith took, looked inside, and let out a mighty: “Ho!”
Rolith gave Gavon back the bag, and patted Gavon on the shoulder.
“I can get Sir Junn,” Rolith paused here, and cleared his thoat. “To heal that wound you have there… It seems like it is painful.” Gavon shook his head.
“Aye, but what is the point of a test if not a test of time, and endurance?” Gavon put a pale hand on his thigh, and looked elated.
“I have done what was bid of me, and now I must rest. When will the ceremony, that will grant me knighthood, begin?” Gavon tore free a strip of his shirt, and wrapped it around his thigh.
“Soon. Tomorrow. We are nearly done preparing, and also, you will be graduating with another boy, Rav Footed,” Rolith clapped his hands once. “A boy from not far away. But that matters not, you should rest. You look as tired as a man who just won a Race Across Lore.” Rolith chuckled.
Gavon looked at Rolith curiously, but Rolith waved him away, insisting he get some sleep.
“I’ll not have you falling into sleep during your knighthood.” Rolith said.
Gavon left the big man behind, and, walking toward the tavern, nearly fell asleep on his feet.
Once Gavon opened the door to the tavern, he was once again greeted with the smell of fine cooking. It seemed to Gavon that he hadn’t eaten for days, but he did not feel hungry, so he just grabbed a biscuit and went to bed.

The following morning he woke up screaming, again, and once again Sir Valence barged in, and once again Gavon drained Sir Valence’s stock of whiskey.
“So, you become a Knight of the Pactogonal table, today, eh?” Sir Valence asked, sitting down in a chair across from the bed, which Gavon sat in.
“Aye. I don’t know what to think.” Gavon tapped his foot, and pulled out his blade, polishing it. Sir Valence pulled a second canteen of whiskey, this one he kept to himself.
“Once Rolith brings down the blade upon your shoulder, all will be clearer.” Sir Valence drank. This was the first time he had the nerve to ask about the knights’ names.
“Why… do all of the knights’ names say a word when said with ‘Sir’?” Gavon thought back to the names of the knights’ he had become acquainted with, and even chuckled at some of the names.
“Well…” Sir Valence drank. “I honestly… don’t know!” There was a moment of silence, but it was broken by both of the men’s bellowing laughter. They laughed for a while, until it became silent, and it seemed they were both somewhere far off.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Tue Nov 08, 2011 2:39 pm

“Well,” Sir Valence slapped his knee and stood up. “I must be off. Now that you are awake, I can leave. Just don’t get into any trouble, remember when you must be at the ceremony, and don’t go around laughing at peoples names!” With that Sir Valence left, closing the door behind him, like yesterday.
Like yesterday, Gavon put on his armor, and he shouldered his pack.
Gavon chuckled a little before leaving his room.
As Gavon closed his door, and locked it, he noticed that the man with the boars head helmet was not there, neither were any of the patrons.
Gavon walked out of the tavern, and found that the streets were deserted.
Before he climbed up the stairs, that wound inside the large oak, he looked into Sir Junn’s office, finding that he wasn’t there, neither were his patients.
Gavon made a small squawking noise. Gavon closed the doors, with a small click .
They all must be preparing. a deep, black voice, which was not Gavon’s, thought inside his head.
“Yes.” Gavon agreed.
Why don’t we just slaughter them? We could surely kill everyone. A second, much higher, voice suggested.
“I could kill all of them. I have thought of it. But I cannot kill the entire nation.”
T’would be fun to try! Another voice piped in. A thousand black voices all began speaking at once.
“Stop it!” Gavon screeched, clutching his head, and rubbing his temples. They all stopped, retreating back into his mind.
Gavon laughed as they stopped.
“I gave you a mortal body to dwell upon, now you listen to me.” Gavon giggled.
Once Gavon returned to sanity, he went up to the oak, and entered.
He giggled at some morbid joke the whole way.
Once he reached the top of the staircase, he heard other footsteps behind him, on the staircase.
A man reached the top of the staircase, and bowed to Gavon.
“Hello, Gavon, I have heard of you. I am Rav Footed.” Rav stuck out a hand, to which Gavon took, and shook, shaking Rav’s wrist until Rav was forced to retreat.
“I have heard of you, also, Sir Footed.” As Gavon said this, a large gate, which was off to the side of the room, opened, and Sir Junn, and Sir Valence, stepped out, gesturing them to enter.
Gavon and Rav stood side-by-side, and entered the gate.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Thu Dec 15, 2011 6:25 pm

Once they entered, the doors closed behind them. The room they where in was dark, and rows of chairs was on either side of the boys.
The rooms’ roof stretched up nearly fifty feet, and a circular staircase was in the middle of the room, and at the tip of the stairs met into a single landing, where Rolith, and some other recognizable knights, stood.
Rolith held a long sword with the pactogonal symbol on the crossguard, other than that, the weapon looked strongly like Sir Junn’s blade.
The rows of seats on either side were filled with people, and they turned to see them.
“Approach, friends.” Rolith’s voice echoed out, through the room.
Gavon and Rav walked forward, shuffling over a dark red carpet. Once they stood before the staircase, they kneeled down, on one knee, and looked to the carpet.
Rolith gave a brief speech about the history of the Knights of the Pactogonal Table.
Once Rolith was finished with his speech, he held his sword out in front of him, and candles flared into life.
The sword, Gavon saw, was very dull, and only used for show.
Rolith lowered his sword, laying it upon the shoulder of Rav.
“Sir Footed, you are hereby, under the eye of all, a Knight of the Pactogonal Table.” Rolith lifted his sword and placed it upon Rav’s other shoulder, before lifting it, and dropping it to his side. “Rise, Knight.” Rolith finished and Rav rose, staring straight forward.
Rolith began to lower the sword.
“Sir Felarian, you-“ Rolith gasped as he slipped. The dull sword stabbed through Gavon’s shoulder, piercing out through his back.
The entire room gasped, and silently looked around.
A crooked grin distorted Gavon’s face.
Gavon put his hand on the blade, slowly pulling it out.
“Gavon, I…-“ Rolith stuttered. Gavon raised a finger to his pursed lips.
“Shh, continue the ceremony.” Gavon whispered.
No blood came from the wound; instead, a small amount of green ooze came out.
Rolith’s face twisted into a look of terror, but he went on.
“Sir Felarian, you are hereby, under the eye of all, a Knight of the Pactogonal Table.” Rolith shuddered, and he lifted his sword to the other shoulder, before holding it at his side. “Rise, Knight.”
Gavon rose, still grinning, and stared straight forward.
“You, Sir Knights, are now part of the knighthood, and family.” The two boys shook Rolith’s hand, and the lights turned even brighter, as the people in the seats stood up,
The candles gave one final flare of light.
Rolith produced two swords, and handed them to Gavon and Rav.
“Here are your Pac Blades. You will find your knight armor in your rooms.” Rolith waved his hand. “You are dismissed!” Everyone left.
Gavon stepped towards the door, and was ambushed by a group of knights, including Sir Junn, and Sir Valence.
“Congratulations!” Sir Prize popped up in front of Gavon, and shook his hand.
Gavon was bombarded with congratulations, and welcomes, by many of the knight for nearly three minutes before they left.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Fri Mar 30, 2012 11:19 am

Now Gavon left the large room, and he sat down at a table,
drinking some mead one of the knights passed him.
Once everyone had left the room, the gates closed, and they
turned to the color of the wall.
Enchanted, Gavon walked up to them and knocked. They were
solid as the wall. Gavon pushed on them, and they did not budge.
Gavon ran a hand through his hair before leaving for his
room.
The streets were packed, and some people danced under the
night sky. Gavon made his way through the crowd, not without being surprised by
Sir Prize, and reached the tavern.
The tavern was bustling with knights and peasants alike, all
drinking and laughing merrily.
A small band played on a stage in the corner, and the man
with the boars head was passing around drinks faster than he could make them.
Literally, some of the cups he gave were empty.
Gavon made his way through this crowd, as well, and reached
his room, which was as silent, when he closed the door.
As Gavon listened to the sweet silence, he discovered his
Pacogonal Knight armor, which was made out of dark blue-ish metal, and had fur
under some of the plates.
Gavon took off his leather armor, and donned this armor,
which he slept in.
A woman’s voice rang out in song, in his mind, and he found
this song somehow familiar, and soothing.
…your soul the night will keep.
Embrace the darkness deep.
Sleep love, forever sleep…


Gavon bolted straight up, screaming a war cry, and had his
sword in hand, which swung at the open air.
This time Sir Valence leisurely walked in, having grown
accustom to Gavon’s night terrors.
“A little different than the usual terrors, eh?” Sir Valence
noticed, talking about his war cry. Gavon nodded. As everyday, Sir Valence
pulled out a canteen of whiskey, and tossed it to Gavon.
“You sure you old enough to drink?” Sir Valence raised an
eyebrow as he pulled a canteen of his own out. Gavon was about to say something
witty, before: “Ah, I don’t care. You seem fine every other day. So how did you
feel yesterday? During the ceremony, I mean.” Sir Valence uncorked his, and
threw the lid away.
“It was an experience, I’ll say that…” Gavon put his hand on
his shoulder, which was still wounded, and unbound.
“It was the first time since I can remember Rolith
faltered.” Sir Valence drank, looked wistfully at Gavon’s wound. “I am sure a
wound like that has got to be unlucky, if you know why.” Gavon nodded and
drained his canteen, like everyday. Sir Valence raised an eyebrow.
“I put a little something extra in there, just to see your
reaction… looks like you didn’t notice.” Sir Valence laughed, pulling out a
half-crushed black pepper.
“Oh, I noticed. I just didn’t want to give you the
satisfaction.” Gavon gave a crooked grin, which seemed to unnerve men more and
more. They both laughed.
“I have to go on rounds, now that you are awake. Stay
out of trouble.” Like everyday, Sir Valence left the room, closing the door
behind him.
Since Gavon already had his armor on, he just shouldered his
pack and left the room.
The tavern was filled with men passed out on tables, and
beer bottles left empty.
Sir Loin polished a vase.
“Good morning, Sir Loin. How are you?” Gavon waved.
“Good morning, Sir Felarian! I am good; I am just cleaning
this mug…” Sir Loin scrubbed the vase harder than ever.
“Can you see in that thing?” Gavon stopped near the door,
putting a hand on it.
“No, not really.” Sir Loin dropped the vase, and picked up a
bowl filled with toothpicks and wiped it down, filling it with water.
Gavon pushed the door open, and strode out into the open,
looking down both ways. The streets were clear, and he made his way to Sir
Junn’s office.
He reached his door, and pushed it open,
“Hello, Doctor Junn.” Gavon said as he peered in, foiling
the pun.
“Hello, Sir Felarian.” Sir Junn called out from the
backroom, coming into sight holding a mirror. “You should find Rolith, Sir Vey
tells me he wishes to speak to you.” Sir Junn began whistling, and Gavon knew
that he did not wish to talk.
Gavon left his office, closing the door, and went to the
oak.
A few peasants now wandered the streets, carrying fruits and
vegetables.
Once Gavon reached the oak, he entered it, and Rolith stood,
conversing with two knights, Sir Valence and Sir Comvent.
“…But his name doesn’t even fit with the ‘Sir’!” Sir Comvent
argued.
Rolith waved him off when he saw Gavon approaching, and he
walked off mumbling about ‘Sir’. Sir Valence stayed, though.
“Hail, Gavon!” Rolith croaked. “I have been discussing
something with some of my most valued knights. And I have an announcement.” By
now Gavon had reached Rolith.
“You, and Sir Footed, are going to be training in the
Moonridge knight outpost.” Sir Footed entered the room, and Rolith waved him
over, and told him the same thing he had told Gavon.
“When?” Gavon asked when Rolith finished speaking.
“Today. I see you have most everything you own on you,
Gavon, and you, Rav. So I see no reason to delay.”
“Won’t it be dangerous for new recruits, such as us, to be
so close to Doomwood?” Rav asked, laying a hand on the hilt of his weapon.
“No. You two will have twenty-four hour a day protection,
until you have proven your strength, and courage.” Rolith turned around and
consulted with Sir Valence, before turning back and nodding.
“I will prepare.” Gavon said, tightening the straps of his
pack, and was about to leave, to gather his things.
“But you may have to experience a brief ride through
Doomwood.” Rolith said. A shudder went through Rav, but a shiver of excitement
went through Gavon.
The two boys left to their respective rooms.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Fri Mar 30, 2012 9:38 pm

Gavon shuffled about his room, making sure everything was in his pack. And, whenever he was sure he was set, went off to find Rolith.
On his way Gavon bumped into Rav, who was also looking for Rolith.
“Hello, Sir Felarian.” Rav put his hand to his sternum and bowed, Gavon followed suit.
“Hello, Rav.” Already knowing the purpose of each others walk, they continued their search.
They found him outside the main gate, standing by a large wagon, with two horses tied to it, and a man with the reins, sitting on the front, by a knight sitting aswell.
“Hello, Gavon. Hello, Rav.” Rolith pulled out two extra packs from somewhere behind him. “Here. You might need these. They contain food, water, and a few extra potions.” Rolith nodded as they took them.
“I suggest you make haste. Dark times are coming, and the Pactogonal knights need as many trained knights as they can.”
“Aye.” Rav took the pack and opened it, shuffling around inside it. “Thank you. I am sure this will come in handy.” Rav shouldered the pack, and Gavon said his thanks.
The man sitting in the seat on the front of the wagon shouted something, something lost to Gavon’s ears.
“Yes, you should leave, now.” As he said this an assortment of knights came out of the gate, and waved as the boys climbed onto the wagon.
“Goodbye!” The muffled voice of Sir Loin called, from the crowd.
“Safe travels!” Sir Valence waved, as he was now in front of the crowd.
The wagon began moving, and started gaining speed, until the keep was out of site.
“Phew.” Rav sighed as he sat down in front of the wagon, across from Gavon. The inside of the wagon was warm and quant, decorated with fine lanterns, and red wool drapes.
A knight sitting down in the front called back to them. “Good morning, boys.” A helmet-less knight came into view, with dark brown hair, and deep green eyes. “I am Sir Comvent. I will be with you on your way to Moonridge.” The knight shrugged.
“Usually, a job like this is not what I do, but all of the other knights were busy. I look forward to traveling with such talked about men.”
The boys returned the greeting, and said there own few complements. The man mumbled and returned to his seat, once again becoming hidden from view.
“So, Rav, what made you to become a knight?” Gavon queried, and leaned back.
Rav also got comfortable, preparing for a long story. “My father a famous, at least among those who care to learn the Pactogonal knights history, Pactogonal knight, and my mother was a holy paladin, who possessed a destiny axe, which slew nearly six hundred undead, wielded by her hand. Whenever I was a child, and I was being raised by my parents, who taught me both the holy ways, and the ways of a knight, I aspired to be a knight, it was my one and only aspiration, the one thing that I wanted, the only thing I strived for.” Rav pulled off his belt, and sheath, and laid them on his lap. “So, I got my father to teach me all of the history, and techniques, of the Pactogonal Knights. Not only was I more educated in the ways of the knights than some actual knights, but I also did many chores around Pactogonal outposts, and even Oaklore keep, putting me in good standards with Rolith, and all of his knights. So, the moment I was of age, just a week ago was the annularity of my birth, I jumped at the chance of becoming a Pactogonal Knight.” Rav’s eyes wandered off, and a wistful look crossed his face.
“But do not think that I follow in my fathers footsteps only, no. Before my mother… died, she taught me to use the power of destiny, and she even taught me the secrets of a paladin. I have heard of the darkness gathering, and that one of the largest wars of history is about to begin… I want to be a part of it.” Rav pulled the sword from its sheath, nearly three inches, and then slammed it shut, causing a click. He repeated this process.
“Aye.” Gavon agreed. He knew he did not want to fight with the defenders, but nor did he want to fight with the darkness. He was torn between the two sides.
“So, where did you come from? Why did you want to be a knight?” Rav pulled out his blade fully and began polishing it.
Gavon chuckled, but quickly sobered up. “I, uh, was born in a small town called Verteroche. You probably haven’t heard of it, pretty small town. And my father was a knight, not a Pactogonal Knight, just… a knight.”
“I didn’t entirely know I wanted to become a knight. I am a…” Gavon cleared his throat. “…I’m a Hero, you see, and I ended up completing quests, coming into good favor of the knights, taking the test, and here I am.” Gavon too pulled out his sword, which was rusted with blood, the only clear part was the edges, which he kept clean, and sharp.
Rav nearly snarled at the bad care Gavon had taken of that sword.
“Have you heard of the reports about a dead werepyre, in a forest near Oaklore?” Rav tried to keep the conversation going.
“Yes… I have heard of the talk.” Gavon ran his fingers along the blade, and when he finished his fingertips where stained dark red, and orange.
“His legs where broken, he had been beat by something vicious…”
Gavon was about to say something more when he heard something drop in the front of the wagon.
Sir Comvent came into view, behind the wagon, and he was running. He caught up to them and jumped into the back.
“Hello, boys.” The knight said, taking a seat beside Gavon. Sir Comvent scowled as he saw the blood-rusted blade.
“What have you been doing?” The knight asked, looking back and forth between boys.
“Talking about each others pasts. Learning a little about the people I may spend a few weeks with.” Rav slammed his sword back into his sheath. The man leaned back and gestured for them to continue.
“No. I think we are done.” Gavon said, looking into Rav’s eyes.

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PostSubject: Re: Gavon Felarian: A Biography   Fri Mar 30, 2012 9:55 pm

Morning came swiftly, and Rav was awake to watch the sun rise over the unbroken horizon. The sun looked like a flare rising into the sky, an explosion of color and light. The warm sunlight splashed over his face, bringing it color, and delivering him from the cold, dark night.
He sat on the wooden bench, a dirty shirt of his cushioning it, and began to take a look at the trees around him, and breathe the air deep, through his nose.
He didn’t know where they were. Everything looked and sickly and foreign.
Sir Comvent appeared over the edge of the wagon, pulling himself into the cabin, with him. He nodded and mumbled his good-mornings, and Rav followed suit.
“Where are we?” Rav asked, studying the trees once more. He absently laid a hand on his belt.
“Doomwood.” Sir Comvent sighed. His eyes darted around as he took a seat beside Rav.
“Doomwood?!” Rav repeated and looked at everything in a new way, in a dangerous, cautious way. “Did we ride all night? I remember I fell asleep, but I don’t remember making camp.”
“No. We didn’t ride all night. The forest came to us.” Gavon rasped, sat in a corner, near the front of the cabin, leaning against a wall and in the shadows. “We had just stopped for the night, right after you fell asleep, near sunset, when the trees started to look deathly. The ground turned a dark grey, and the grass to a blue-ish black. Though the sun hadn’t set yet, it suddenly disappeared completely, and the moon was in the center of the sky.”
Gavon sneezed, and seemed to be completely out of breath. He didn’t like place, not at all, the air tasted like dirt and the moon was the size of a dinner plate, if you held it right in front of your face.
Yet he felt at home.
“Don’t you feel it? Don’t you hear it? I can’t wait to get out of here…” Gavon whispered, as the fresh sunlight poured into the entirety of the cabin.
It illuminated his pale blue face, and his bright, bright green eyes.
“Gavon… Do you feel alright?” Rav seemed alarmed by the blue visage, but hid it well.
“Are you kidding me? I feel wonderful! I could stay here forever…” Rav noticed he just said the opposite, but his response was cut short.
“Duck!” Sir Comvent dropped to the floor, pulling Rav down and motioning to the out of reach Gavon. Just as the black wyverns flew over.
They were so close that one of the hanging claws tore the roof off of the cabin. An arrow from a man dressed in black, curvy, slim armor, atop a wyvern, launched an arrow into the wagon-driver, pulling him clear from his seat and nailing him to a tree. The driver wiggled and writhed, has hands feebly grasping the arrow, and his legs flailing. His cry of death peeled through the thick, morning air, but was silenced as green liquid flooded through his veins, and he was still.
The wing-beat of the wyverns flying over made the wagon wobble, wobble, and then tip over onto its side.
A cloud of dust and dirt went up as the wyverns finally passed.
“Damn Black Wyvern Riders!” Sir Comvent cussed, attempting to get back on his feet, as he flailed around on the once-was side of the cabin.
The forest around them shook; something gave them a feeling it wasn’t from the wyverns flying over. A howl of a wolf rang clear through Doomwood, sending a chill down Rav’s spine.
Gavon managed to gain his footing, a few feet away from the tipped-over wagon.
“The path is gone.” He stated, shuffling backwards, and rubbing his temple.
“The path is gone…” Rav repeated lamely. He couldn’t comprehend how the path was gone. But sure enough, it was, all that surrounded them now was a dense forest of gray oaks and blue leaves, if there were leaves at all on some trees.
Gavon looked over at the driver nailed to the tree.
There was the sign of a skull on a wooden board nailed to his chest.
They all noticed the red and green eyes looked at them from the darkness. Even more green and red eyes opened up, blinked, and closed, repeating this process over and over.
“Hah! Looks like Frostval!” Gavon placed a hand over his stomach and cackled. He continued to laugh until he noticed no one else was.
“This isn’t good. Rav, go through the supplies; get the machetes, the potions, all the necessities. Leave the rest behind.” Sir Comvent pointed two fingers towards the fallen cabin, and then to the west. “Gavon, keep watch west, scan the area and get a grasp on where the best course of action lies. I’ll keep watch east.”
Gavon gave a mock salute and turned on a heel, strutting straight-backed to the western edge of the forest.
Rav turned a pack of his upside down, dropping all of the contents onto the floor. He then took the pack up and stuffed potions of red, blue, and… orange? Rav wondered what the orange potion was, and turned it over. A label on it stated it as the property of Gavon Felarian. He shrugged and stuffed it into the pack, with the mana and health potions.
“532, 850. 773, 419. Yaaar.” Gavon called out from Rav’s right.
“How do you know how to…?” Sir Comvent began, but stopped. “140, 338. 082, 273.” He called back.
Rav carefully placed daggers and machetes onto a blanket, wrapped them up and placed them into a different pack. He moved the packs flap over the tools.
He then hoisted one pack, the pack with the potions and provisions in it, onto his right shoulder, and picked up the tool pack with his left hand. He trundled out of the open hole in the over-turned cabin.
“Packed and ready to go.” Rav patted the pack in his left hand, and tossed it to Sir Comvent, who was approaching him. Gavon also began to approach him.
“What is the plan?” Gavon asked.
“Continue on to Moonridge, as planned.” Sir Comvent replied.
“We don’t have enough provisions for that trip, without the wagon.” Rav chimed in, waggling the pack on his shoulder.
“With smaller rations, and the just-in-case provisions, we will just be able to make it. We are only at the very edge of Doomwood, it should not be to dangerous here. Consider this a test.” Sir Comvent turned and started off south-west. “Moonridge. This way.” The others followed.

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