Post by karajix101 on May 29, 2012 20:00:48 GMT -5
I have been in this land for a while and have decided to keep this journal so it can be a guide to any future Kelemvorite who finds themself brought here.
This land is called Siranda, and its mountains, forests and countryside are gloomy, the city of Kalaram that you will no doubt come across is also but, it is a sad gloomy and desperate place devoid of laughter and smiles. perhaps I should tell you first of the local people:
The survivors bear more resemblance to a dockside mob than anything, they posses rudimentary skills in intimidation and thuggery forcing their will through fear and numbers than through any actual respect given to them by the people, they remind me of the Cyricists but without the Cyricists ability to manipulate and deceive, Survivors are very much in your face they come right at you, expressing any opinion or thought that is not their opinion.
At midnight, when you discover what happens at midnight in siranda you will probably understand why we are here, when the sun goes down survivors go into hiding, the land is plagued by Undead in vast numbers, that prowl the streets of Kalaram at night, killing and eating and those they come across the majority of those who die in this way have no faith, no belief in any god, in fact most can best be described as agnostics believing there are no gods The concept of faith itself is alien to the vast majority of them. But since death comes so readily here there are plenty who require to have their suffering from the death around them eased, this along with the multitude of undead to be laid to rest, ensures we shall be very busy in Siranda.
I have told you of Siranda and the land you find yourself in now I shall tell you about myself, my name is Saethe Spellsurge, I hail from a small town. When just a boy, my family was ambushed by evil clerics who controlled undead, the servants of Velsharoon. They sacrificed my father and mother on an altar before my eyes, and forced me to witness the spectacle. They kept me alive, however, for the clerics needed a servant to tend to their personal needs and to wait upon them. For any misstep I would make, the clerics would be quick to punish me, scarring my flesh and soul.
During my slavery, I had found that these clerics did not let any corpse remain ‘unblessed’. This usually meant they were made into undead. I would not forget that among the undead serving these priests walked the forms of my mother and father. I vowed to avenge them and return them to their proper rest. I spent much of my time being persecuted by the followers of Velsharoon for Kelemvors position and teachings, each flogging each torture just has made my faith stronger, the confidence given to me by faith in the rewards awaiting me in the afterlife serving in the grey city.
I managed to escape from them a decade later, and because of the wilderness lore my father had taught me, I had survived deep in the woods for a long time. I became to know the land and the other races, surviving through the help of others that generously gave their aid to me. I became friends with thieves guild members, as normal people shunned me for my visage and odd mannerisms, both caused by years of slavery to evil clerics. Those same friends would set my feet upon the path of becoming an adventurer, and I began my personal quest to end the existence of all undead and those that made them. I also became a follower of Kelemvor during my journey of undead eradication, and swore myself to His service.
It was priests of Kelemvor that sent me to the Isle of Siranda. I learned discipline, the teachings of Kelemvor and in time came wisdom and finally faith. Rumors of undead had been growing out of that odd place as of late, and I would investigate the truth of them, sending reports of his findings, while also destroying those undead he could.
The night was calm when I finally arrived on the Wind Spray and put his feet upon the land of Siranda. It was a night to remember, for that calmness would not be felt again.
Here ends the my first entry I shall add to this journal as time passes in hope that my writings will help those of our faith who find this land.
Saethe Spellsurge
This land is called Siranda, and its mountains, forests and countryside are gloomy, the city of Kalaram that you will no doubt come across is also but, it is a sad gloomy and desperate place devoid of laughter and smiles. perhaps I should tell you first of the local people:
The survivors bear more resemblance to a dockside mob than anything, they posses rudimentary skills in intimidation and thuggery forcing their will through fear and numbers than through any actual respect given to them by the people, they remind me of the Cyricists but without the Cyricists ability to manipulate and deceive, Survivors are very much in your face they come right at you, expressing any opinion or thought that is not their opinion.
At midnight, when you discover what happens at midnight in siranda you will probably understand why we are here, when the sun goes down survivors go into hiding, the land is plagued by Undead in vast numbers, that prowl the streets of Kalaram at night, killing and eating and those they come across the majority of those who die in this way have no faith, no belief in any god, in fact most can best be described as agnostics believing there are no gods The concept of faith itself is alien to the vast majority of them. But since death comes so readily here there are plenty who require to have their suffering from the death around them eased, this along with the multitude of undead to be laid to rest, ensures we shall be very busy in Siranda.
I have told you of Siranda and the land you find yourself in now I shall tell you about myself, my name is Saethe Spellsurge, I hail from a small town. When just a boy, my family was ambushed by evil clerics who controlled undead, the servants of Velsharoon. They sacrificed my father and mother on an altar before my eyes, and forced me to witness the spectacle. They kept me alive, however, for the clerics needed a servant to tend to their personal needs and to wait upon them. For any misstep I would make, the clerics would be quick to punish me, scarring my flesh and soul.
During my slavery, I had found that these clerics did not let any corpse remain ‘unblessed’. This usually meant they were made into undead. I would not forget that among the undead serving these priests walked the forms of my mother and father. I vowed to avenge them and return them to their proper rest. I spent much of my time being persecuted by the followers of Velsharoon for Kelemvors position and teachings, each flogging each torture just has made my faith stronger, the confidence given to me by faith in the rewards awaiting me in the afterlife serving in the grey city.
I managed to escape from them a decade later, and because of the wilderness lore my father had taught me, I had survived deep in the woods for a long time. I became to know the land and the other races, surviving through the help of others that generously gave their aid to me. I became friends with thieves guild members, as normal people shunned me for my visage and odd mannerisms, both caused by years of slavery to evil clerics. Those same friends would set my feet upon the path of becoming an adventurer, and I began my personal quest to end the existence of all undead and those that made them. I also became a follower of Kelemvor during my journey of undead eradication, and swore myself to His service.
It was priests of Kelemvor that sent me to the Isle of Siranda. I learned discipline, the teachings of Kelemvor and in time came wisdom and finally faith. Rumors of undead had been growing out of that odd place as of late, and I would investigate the truth of them, sending reports of his findings, while also destroying those undead he could.
The night was calm when I finally arrived on the Wind Spray and put his feet upon the land of Siranda. It was a night to remember, for that calmness would not be felt again.
Here ends the my first entry I shall add to this journal as time passes in hope that my writings will help those of our faith who find this land.
Saethe Spellsurge
