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 Post subject: Couriant von Zarovich
PostPosted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 7:54 am 
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Joined: Thu Nov 03, 2011 7:34 am
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Character Name:Couriant von Zarovich
Gender:M
Race:Human
Age:26
Class:Cleric
Alignment:Lawful Good
Deity: Tyllar

The following letter is found left on a gravestone in the Chail-Anden Cemetary, topped with 2 red roses.

"Dear Mother,

A voice like many waters. This was how I first perceived the blessing of Sight. In my dreams, I often saw omens and portents that exhilarated me, and at other times, terrified me. Since my earliest days, beings of other realms, from other vistas of reality with workings I could only hope to fathom, had blessed me with the gift of Sight. It was with this Sight, a gift not diluted by the physical sensation of the inner function of my eyeballs, but rather a tendency towards prophecy, that I heard a voice for the first time. A voice so beautiful, so unequivocally majestic, that I nearly wept. I was seven years of age.

Before my first visit from the celestial realm, memory fades. Before the keen intellect that enraptured me so completely I succumbed to awe, there is nothing but a dull, grey world of petty significance. Thus my first true memory is born of perception not of this world, but of a higher calling. I am your son, Couriant von Zarovich, and although many would call me mad, I believe.

The Voice, unlike the clumsy and fallacy ridden conduct of physical speech, did not speak to me so much in words as in feelings, emotions, and visions. It told me of the world and the sadness and melancholy that clouded mortal hearts, the suffering and pain of others, and it told me of my place within this orb teeming with life. I was shown the ways of man, how some dominated others and inflicted grievous woe upon those who should be their brothers and sisters in Light. I was shown terrible atrocities so great in malice they reached into the heavens themselves. Thus I first learned true compassion, empathy, and mutual sorrow.

I beheld what could have been, what SHOULD have been, and yet could be, if only those of strength would champion the weak, if only evil and shadow could be swept from the vestiges of all mortal hearts, and malice and atrocity banished from the mortal realm. A world full of singing, dancing, Light. How little, then, do men know, about Worlds. For within the Voice that spoke to my heart, there was a longing and a sense of vast emptiness that could only be explained by what the voice then showed my inquiring mind...a sea, no, a bottomless ocean...of sparks within sparks within sparks of light. For in the vast reaches of the heavens my Sight perceived, through whatever grace this celestial agent had bestowed upon me, countless stars that hosted stars of their own, much smaller stars, infinitely minuscule in comparison, and in these, there was the spark of Life. Yes, I perceived life upon the stars, worlds far removed from our own, this realm we call Caenyr.

I was shown another way. The Voice, then, became but a whisper, a coaxing, yet helping, hand to guide me through times of turmoil and doubt. I was born, not to lead or conquer, but to serve. To serve my fellow man and woman, to protect the downtrodden, to purge evil and darkness wherever it may be, if not by words then by the sword, for war, even though grim and terrible, was necessary, the Voice whispered to me, at some times. When a soul becomes so diabolic that no redemption is possible, then by the sword that one must fall. “It is the only way.” This pained me, yet over the years I came to accept it. Yet in this world, those souls are far too many. Perhaps it would not be so if the gods of darkness did not exist, but divinely inspired evil and malice is unrepentable. The mantle of godhood is too strong, too devoted to their own agendas, to change. This is a terrible loss.

Mother, you had always been a kind woman, and although I was born a street urchin, I came to love the kindness the Knights of Chail-Anden showed towards me. I vowed one day to serve them and the citizens of my beloved homeland when I came of age and could handle a weapon. Although I never knew my father and your lover, in time I would not regret it, for another Father would take me under his wing, far more benevolent and understanding than a mortal man. Yes, I came to Tyllar when you passed away from disease and the Temple took me in and trained me in the ways closest to my heart; justice and compassion. Over the coming years I would care for my siblings, your children, but guided by Sight I would eventually set out on a pilgrimage to the North, to teach the less civilized and blessed of the ways of the Church. My story does not end there, but of my toils and tribulations I shall speak no more. I can only hope that I will become a man that my heavenly father would look kindly upon. Thus to Chail I returned, and the fires of War burn in the South. Evil must be abolished. I will never stop fighting. This, is my promise. I love you, Mother.

-Your firstborn, Couriant"




Appearance: Sky blue eyes, brown hair, medium frame, relatively handsome all around. Keeps a pendant of Tyllar around his neck under clothes/armor and walks with a soft and unobtrusive gait when around other people.

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If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels but do not have love, I have become a sounding piece of brass or a clashing cymbal. - 1 Corinthians 13:1


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PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 4:38 pm 
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Joined: Thu Nov 03, 2011 7:34 am
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Misery Engulfs the Weak as Well as the Strong

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If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels but do not have love, I have become a sounding piece of brass or a clashing cymbal. - 1 Corinthians 13:1


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