Faelar Stormblade <~~~(The look before he was turned into a wolf thingy)

Faelar Stormblade. Son of Mirnoff and Lialiden Stormblade. Of the Northern Reaches. Warriors or renown. Legends of time. A Legacy of war and hell on earth. A Stormblade in an army was considered touched by the hands of fate. A Stormblade in a town was once said that no harm could come to the town. But all that changed….

Faelar spent his entire childhood learning the art of the sword with his older and younger brother. Since no two people were ever the same with a blade in their hand, no two training regimens were the same either.

Gimstrel, the older brother, shown a liking for larger much more powerful weapons. What he lacked in precision he made up for with raw power. Antares seemed to prove himself well for someone who used a two handed weapon and hid in the shadows. Faelar always thought that hiding from your foe was cowardice but as his father explained. "Patience and vigilance will show more about your enemy then just running up to him to test his resolve."

Faelar was something of a prodigy. Not from Mirnoff. Somewhere in the ancestry there was a warrior that took down the great Alexei Stormblade. Zekelaus. Every night as if by drill when they went to sleep their mother would recound the tale of Alexei and Zekelaus' fight to the death. It was a tale to be recounted over, studied, and then learned from for future mistakes. But mainly when his parents found a peculiar birthmark on Faelar is when they knew he was the next Alexei Stormblade. So his training regimen was harder. Longer. To train him to be the best swordsman that all could hope to ever be.

Faelar's specialty was one handed weapons. He was fluid in his strikes, and powerful enough for a singular strike using only one arm. Every so often Mirnoff would pit the boys against each other to test their education. Even against himself if he felt the need. They didn't have friends they were a self sustaining family. Lialiden went to the nearby grocer for supplies and the Stormblade's lived a life of training and solitude.

Mirnoff always pitted Faelar against Gimstrel. Because Faelar had shown fear in his eyes watching Gimstrel practice alone. Mirnoff would beat that fear out of him. "No fear for the enemy. Just cold steel and defeat!"

Gimstrel laughed, this was his chance to prove that he was better than the great Alexei would ever be, starting with his younger brother in this 'friendly duel', one that Faelar would never forget. Mirnoff whistled to signify the beginning of the spar and while Faelar was trying to shake off the sick feeling he had in his stomach he slowly began to pull the rapier from his belt when he got checked in the chest. Gimstrel was fast for an elf, and for his size. Gimstrel had charged across the field with what looked like blind fury, and though he drew his greatsword during stride he shoulder checked Faelar to the ground.

That was Faelar's first mistake.. Mirnoff threw a rock, about the size of a medium gemstone and cracked Faelar behind his ear. That further disoriented him when he heard "Pay attention!"

Gimstrel then swung his massive sword across Faelar's midsection and Faelar saw the only option was to take a step back, only to get another crack on the same spot behind his ear by another stone and he got a bit dizzy from the growing welt on the soft spot behind his ear when he heard "Where you going?! The enemy is in front of you! Never retreat!"

Faelar reached a hand up to rub the spot where the rocks had been hitting but there wasn't time for that. Gimstrel was swinging wild and hard. Faelar had to keep his guard up to as there was another hard swing coming down on top of his head. Faelar took another cautionary step back and then CRACK his world spun and he lost his footing. The world spun as his eyes rolled back. Gimstrel a bit disappointed in his early collapse thought to give Faelar a mark of reminder, as Faelar fell to the ground Gimstrel spun and swung upward visciously catching Faelar on his upper right chest, collar bone, and shoulder. Blood sprayed the ground but Faelar was already on a collision course with the ground and lost consciousness before ever meeting fate with it.

The Scars from that day still burned on Faelar's memory. In the coming weeks he was put on 'light' duty by sparring with Antares which was much like a dancing match since they were both quick on their feet and usually left Antares disarmed or unconscious. Mirnoff never had to scold Faelar for his insolent retreats against Antares because against the younger brother Faelar was more confident. Never did they get praise unless you counted more work as a pat on the back, a thumbs up and a helpful 'Good job.' But the indentured training was starting to weigh heavily upon Faelar's body as well as his very soul..

"Mercy on the battlefield will get you Killed, Faelar! Every time during your training should you ever disarm your brother again without scoring a hit you will be severly punished! We're warriors. We haven't come this far to only let our enemies see where they fucked up." Antares was on the ground breathing after a session, no marks on him, his falchion 15 feet from him. Mirnoff walked over to Antares drawing his dagger and stabbed Antares in his midsection. Antares cried out at the sudden attack from his father and curled up over the dagger holding it's hilt but staying very still with the occasional whimper.

Faelar's eyes bugged. With a renewed flame he charged across to his father only to meet a stiff clothesline. Faelar for all he was worth went backwards head over heels and crunched to the ground on his own chest. Mirnoff glared at Faelar "Is that a challenge boy? You have way more training to finish before you could ever be in my league. Blood of Alexei or not I will put you down if you become rabid. You understand me?!"

Antares was recovering. Being coddled a bit by his mother. Faelar twitched a bit at the affection. He'd never seen such devotion from her with his own injuries. Gimstrel getting ready for bed saw the envy on Faelar's face and sat next to him with a grump and slugged Faelar in the jaw. "What's the matter Alex?"

The sheer force from the blow rolled Faelar off his cot and he rubbed his cheek sitting up, trying to refocus his eyes "Gim, that's not my name.. Grow up."

He stood up and cracked his neck, always ready and looking for a fight. So much pride, so much confidence.. and.. hatred? "I'll grow up.. I've already proven myself. You think because you have the blood of our greatest ancestor in your veins that you will just have everything handed to you?" popping his knuckles.

Faelar stood glaring at Gimstrel "What has ever made you think I'd get it easy, you make it sound like I had a choice in being the next to fulfill the Great Alexei's legacy. Gimstrel, I don't want to fight right now. After watching father be so cold towards Antares and…" but he was cut off.

Cutting across Faelar Gimstrel laughed, "You are pathetic.. we're warriors. And honored as well as nearly worshipped. But you Faelar.. you are worthless.. showing mercy to Antares, you know if you were on your back he'd have slit your throat and have.."

Faelar closed the distance and got in Gimstrel's face "Call me pathetic or worthless one more time. It's high time someone put you in your place Gim.. I have a stronger moral structure than either of you. Where you and Antares and that horrible man we call 'father' only give a shit about.."

There was the sound of his throat clearing.. And Faelar looked across the room spotting his father, standing in the doorway and then he waved the two of them out into the sparring circle. Faelar knowing that this would be a fight he grabbed one of his swords not caring which and scooped up a scimitar instead of his usual rapier.

The stage was set, Mirnoff holding a longsword and shortsword respectively. Gimstrel with his greatsword. "What.. I'm to take both of you?" asked Faelar

Mirnoff scoffed "You have offended both of us so now we will uphold our honor in this match. Do you have any honor yourself?" and Gimstrel just laughed.

Faelar held the scimitar in his hand, shaking a bit looking at two people he has never bested in combat, then he took his stance, mostly daunted by multiple combat as he's always fought in duels. The extra enemy made him feel ill at ease.. but he readied himself and let Gimstrel charge in. He set himself with a defensive stance. 'No Retreat!' chanted in his head, and when Gimstrel let out his powerful swing Faelar just stuck the scimitar out to block the blade with his own, and spun about ducking down and behind him, a flourish of the scimitar slicing the hamstring of Gimstrel and the large elf hit the ground with a grunt dropping his greatsword. Faelar followed through with a hard downward swing across Gim's back to draw a lot more blood and leave his own scar as a reminder to him. After the swing while in step he turned facing his father, a surge of moral came over him, he lifted his sword in defense once more.

Mirnoff's steps were long, but he seemed to move in slow motion. Faelar narrowed his gaze, braced for the coming charge having never fought his father one on one. He blinked and remembered pain. When his eyes opened Mirnoff had scored a hit with his short sword and struck once more with the longsword across Faelar's chest and from the sheer force of the blow and the ferocity of the cut Faelar tumbled to the ground. His consciousness fading as he heard his father snort with disgust, "You -are- pathetic. Can't handle a pair of cuts? Come tomorrow.. you are no longer my son."

He opened his eyes, still laying on the floor the arena. He was dizzy.. He blinked a few times..
The words of his father echoing in his ears. He lifted himself weakly to his feet, his scimitar dragging in his hand along with him. He staggered to the medical room.. grabbing something to bandage his wound.. he wasn't an expert but he knew where the good stuff was.. he'd seen his mother use it.. He looked down to bandage his wound and noticed all the blood.. The scars. It's as if he'd never seen them before.. he took a sip from a vial nearby and though his wounds healed some he took a nervous step back into the main arena. His body shook, spasmed and jerked. He then gripped his scimitar as he stared at the bedroom door.

He opened it up, not even quietly but his brothers were heavy sleepers. He looked at his brother in his cot, then he grabbed his things, he was leaving this hell.
"Pathetic… Worthless" the words pounded in his ears and he looked over at Gimstrel, sleeping on his cot while muttering in his sleep. Faelar moved over to stand above him. Even in his dreams Gimstrel hated him. He then shook again, a rage building inside him. He lifted his scimitar over his head, staring at Gimstrel's throat. In a quick drop and forced pull back of the blade he silently dispatched his brother, who opened his eyes a moment after being cut but.. no noise came from him.. there was almost a look of shock but he died before the thought could process.

Faelar stared at Gimstrel.. superior in every way.. The warrior they always wanted.. then he turned his head looking over at the chair that Antares sat in.. fell asleep reading a book again. He was utterly pissed.. and envious of the child.. Stealing all of his mother's affections.. he grabbed a handful of Antares' hair and jerked his head up. The sudden jolt wakened Antares. Then his pupils dialated as he saw the sweeping in Scimitar, and with a jerk back Faelar held Antares' head in his hand. By a handful of hair. And Faelar spat on Antares before tossing the head aside and he moved across the home to the parents bedroom.

'A great warrior..hah' he thought to himself as he cased his parents bed. His eyes darted from his mother to his father. They were facing away from each other and holding themselves on their own side of the bed.. Distant.. he stopped by his father's head and hoisted his sword into the air once more. And brought it down on his father's neck.

But his father woke up.. and though he was wounded mortally he pushed Faelar back and away. Sputtering and coughing, shocked at what he was looking at. His own son bloody, shaking. The look in his eye was that of a cold killer.

"What in the nine hells do you think you're doing Faelar?!" Shouted Mirnoff jolting Lialiden awake.
"What's the matter father? Do I still disappoint you? Didn't you say that I'd learn more from my opponent by Patience and Vigilance than just charging in to test his resolve?" his tone was eerily calm. His head tilted down, eyes effectively looking up at his father.
"I also taught you to distinguish friend from foe. Or did that lesson slip your mind as well?"
"I've dispatched all foes father.. Two remain, Their names are Lialiden and Mirnoff." his anger surged inward now "As I am reminded" getting louder "Just before I lost consciousness.. The loathing that dripped off of my so called 'Father' and that how I would no longer be.. his … son!" The amber of his eyes almost swallowed by the black of the pupils. "So from here on out! -Every- -single- -member- of the -Stormblade- Clan.. Is my ENEMY" and he charged in with his sword again, swinging wildly. Against catching his father off guard a mite but being an experienced fighter gave him a few tricks to only roll across the bed away from Faelar. Lialiden ran out of the room. But once being out the door for ten seconds she screamed.

Faelar jumped on the bed bearing down on Mirnoff.. he regarded the scream with a grin "Sounds like she found out that she's no longer a mother… all her boys are dead."
The look of horror spreading across Mirnoff's face just surged through Faelar with Elation. "Last night Faelar Stormblade died.. BY YOUR HANDS MIRNOFF! The hope of Alexei Stormblade is gone. From the ashes of Faelar arose a much stronger man.. Stronger than Alexei, And stronger than even you.. Zekelaus.."

He bounded off the bed and Mirnoff tried to get away but the sharp edge of the scimitar was more than his greatest defense. As Mirnoff rose his arms to block the blade it was more speed than luck that the blade slipped over his rising hands, under his chin and with another flourish his head fell from his shoulders. Zekelaus breathed heavily.. staring at the decapitated body of his once father, then began to laugh. Before he turned to the door to walk out seeing his mother standing there.. pointing a crossbow at him. Zek smirked and very cooly "I had intended to spare you Lialiden Stormblade. But if you intend to block my path I will erase the name of Stormblade from these parts of the world. So help me…"

The woman was frightened and the cross bow shook in her hands. Feebly so. She was under duress from all that had happened this night. It was too much for her.. but she held her stance with the crossbow.

"Last chance.. Move." and with his final words the Crossbow bolt was fired, but Zek agilely ducked in a roll, over the corpse of his late father, under the bolt and the guard of his mother, and there was a spin, the blade across her stomach effectively ending the life of the feeble woman but to add insult to injury he snapped his foot to her jaw and as she bent backwards, in half, her entrails shot across the floor.

He looked around, breathing slowly, he gathered up some of his parent's valuables for sale. He had his father's survival training he could rely on. He left the home in its current state and decided to start a new life. Traveling south.

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