So you wish to learn more about the lord of the realm. Well he is I and I am he, I bid you welcome. Most here call me hunter through respect, although those close to me are allowed to do otherwise it is still a safe idea, for it is the name I choose for myself long ago, when things for me were much different, but I shall speak of that later as with other pieces of my past. For now lets speak of happier times, the present. My gorgeous wife I am sure you have noticed if not met and two children Gavin and Cynder, have seemed to calm my temperament down in the past few years from the raging fire it once was. We stay in the tallest mountain of this realm that has been fully carved out a little ways from the town and Tavern.
He takes a long thoughtful look at you studying you hard.. before continuing
Still I am sure you wish to know more of my past for that is why you are here no doubt.. I grew up in a family of five.. My father and my mother had three children together I was the last as my mother died in childbirth, eventually my father loved again and married another woman who had two twin daughter’s that I never did get along with. My older siblings a sister and brother we what I believed to be my family, as my brother believed me to be his worst problem. We were a family of mages, practicing the white magic in which I had a tremendous skill and at the age of a young boy, I was far more powerful then my brother so he hated me with a passion worthy of an enemy. My sister on the other hand took care of me, father couldn’t ever look at me because he knew that I was the cause of my mother’s death, so it was just sister and I. Something else that had been a down fall was a prophecy that was said at my birth that if I learned magic I would be a bain of black against the white mage. So because of this my father tried to prevent me from learning any type of magic even if my skill in the end passed his own.. so instead he sent me off to train as a warrior.. I wanted to go at the time for my own reason’s and later upon they helped me in becoming a shadow lord, but that is far far in to the future now..
The world around you starts to spin and a image appears before your eyes as his voice fades and instead you see him... the story coming alive
The setting sun in the sky illuminated on the ground, shinning down over the ceremonial table. The man was tied tightly down and stretched over the table naked. Two others that were near him stood there drawing markings and symbols upon his body with falcon feathers and shadow ink. His eyes lay closed as his chest drew in one shaky breath after another. This was to be his future, his destiny. He felt himself being pulled in to the shadow realm and then the memories came.
A young boy of seven ran down the stairs of the house almost slipping twice in his
excitement. He dashed in to the room where his father was awaiting him. Today was the
happiest day of his life, for it was the day he would receive his birth name. A day in
which he had been working hard for, since it would be his name for now and forever.
Most of the white mages had animal birth names to show their skills and their honor. His
older brother was name Hawk flier, but even at this age the young boy was better in the
skills of a white mage then his brother, that was four years old. For this reason Hawk
hated him. His older sisters name had been Morphidae Butterfly, after the rare and
beautiful blue butterfly. Nobody could deny that she had both the charm and the looks of
a noble Lady, but her work as a commoner made her gorgeous.
He looked up at his father confident that his name would be the best ever. His father
had thought long and hard that night, remembering the words of a Silver Dragon. "The
bane to the white mage and a gift to the dark mage, he shall be strongest in both magic’s."
With that he had made the decision to try to shame his youngest son out of the practice of
magic and this was the first step. Gravely he looked at the boys face, shining with hope
and proclaimed his name. "Thou shalt be callth Galin." Galin looked up to him in shock.
It wasn’t an animal name, it was a name for those that don’t use magic. He ran from the
room in tears, his older brother smirking and his sisters head bent in sorrow. That
moment was the moment he decided to work hard and make Galin a mage name, a name
that would be known.
The mans eyes fluttered open, he felt the two drawing on his face. A soft soothing voice calmly reassured him. "All is well brother close thine eyes and remember for it is natural." He complied with her wishes and closed his eyes. His mind now drifting to years later when he was twelve. At the exact moment he became certain he was more powerful then his father already. Also the same day he had been sent away with nothing but a black stallion Pegasus. The figure closes his eyes and swallowed as his mouth went dry. These terrible memories coming back once more to haunt him.
Galin had just come in from working the field, the herb and magical roots needed to be
tended everyday for hours and it was his job. He had been forced to do that while his
siblings practiced magic. So in return he became stronger then them all, another reason
his older brother hated him. His father gave him a nod, the most effection he ever got in
that family and motioned for him to sit down and eat. Galin sat down in silence then in a
timid whisper, “Father Lord?” His father looked up and watched his youngest son not
giving a response. Galin licked his dry lips and asked, "Father Lord, I want to learn how
to fight." At his fathers scowl he continued quickly, “Not with magic Father Lord, but
with physical weapons. Can I please?” His fathers face suddenly took on a thoughtful
expression then he smiled a rare smile. "Of course you can my son as long as you don’t
use any magic while you train with weapons. You must first learn to use them as a
common man. Agreed?" Galin nodded his eyes bright with excitement.
Later that night he asked his father one more question, one he had wondered about for a
very long time. "Father Lord, can we bring back the dead?” His fathers face turned sad,
"No my son we can not." Galin looked amused, “But Father Lord, when the poachers
came they shoot my Stallion. He was dead, yet he is still in the stall alive this day.
Doesn’t that mean I brought him back to life?” His father went in to a rage and hit his
son. That night Galin was cast from the house and told to go to a training school for boys
that wanted to learn to be warriors. He decided then that his father couldn’t bring back the
dead. Yet inside Galin knew that he could....for he had.
The man on the table gasp in lain as the next wave of the poison took over. Slowly dying
there was nothing he could do but wait, opening his eyes he looked down. Amused at
what he saw, the symbols covered him completely. Once more he heard the soft, gentle
voice telling him to go back to sleep. To let his dreams once again take over, finally he
understood. His body would die in a sense, but the dreams would keep him alive moving
him to the shadow realm. Or the realm of nightmares as others called it. Although to him,
it wouldn’t be a night mare, but something else interlay different. To him it would be the
only way to stay alive. His conscience to the outside would disappeared once more as the
memories returned.
~BAM, CRASH, SMACK, CLANG~ went the air as Galin bested one lad after the other.
Each fell before his fury and power, his anger and pain hidden by the mask of
concentration on his face. Suddenly with the sweep of the sword the teacher fell back.
Galin moved forward and rested the tip of the blade on the teachers neck. The teacher
nodded and pushed the blade aside. Galin turned to the crowd that had gathered and said
in a soft , but deadly voice. “Let any man that says a word about my name know he
sentences himself to death, for a name doesn’t make the man, but the man the name.”
With that Galin threw the sword between the teachers feet and left the training field. He
had just made an enemy, but who cared. They all knew that he was the best. The next day
he left, going to an old house in the woods. Galin knew how to fight with honor, but their
were many ways to fight and the next way he wanted top learn was the craft of the
assassin. The mans memories faded and a new one appeared.
Galin still at a young age raced over the hills on his black Pegasus stallion. The house that
loomed in the distance came closer as the minutes rushed by. Finally the brown mossy
looking house could be seen to the smallest detail. The door was painted a faded forest
green which seemed like it had been pealing slowly away over the ages. The roof was
thatched with a mud caked chimney sticking out right in the center. Thick black smoke
billowed out from the hole and faded off in to the air. Galin didn’t think this seemed like
the type of place a master assassin would live, but this was the only house around here.
So he got of his stallion and walked to the door cautiously, watching every place he took
a step for traps, but found none. Knocking lightly on the door he noticed a faint symbol
carved on it, meaning “Warning.” So even thought there was no answer Galin knew not
to enter, he sat down on the mat and waited...and waited... and waited. Until a night and a
day had passed. Finally the door slowly swung open and he stood up. Stepping inside
with a practiced caution he moved easily out of the way as the knife wised by his face,
inches away.
He waited standing in the light of the door until he heard a sound of in the distance.
“What do you want boy?” Galin calmly with no trace of the panic he felt replied, “Are
you the great master assassin, for I seek training from you if that be your title.” He heard a
shape laugh then in a firm clear voice that seemed to echo from all around, “What makes
you think, boy that you are good enough to be an assassin?” Galin drew in a deep breath
and told him. “I studied with the master arms trainer at point break for three years, until I
bested every student he had and the teacher himself.” Galin paused in case the master
Assassin had any questions, but when no response was made he continued. “Plus my
father was the master white mage with in three hundred miles of the four towns and all
the forest.” At that he heard a intake of breath, nothing more. Suddenly the door slammed
shut and the light of a candle appeared to relive a door that led down under the house in
to a cave system. The voice said, “You just might be able to be an assassin, but lets find
out. Take this candle and go in to the caves, track your way to my really home and we
shall talk. One false move and your dead, I hope I’ll see you there.” With that the man
disappeared.
A couching fit racked the man’s body, making it harder to breath. It was getting closer
and he knew it. He was no longer scared just tired. So very tired, he closed his eyes again.
This was for the last time. They wouldn’t open again for a long time, not until he was
ready to take his body back once more and raise up as a shadow lord. In this he took a
grim delight to, it was time that he become powerful enough that all of his hard earned
skills would be put together. Only then would he be a master hunter, and one of the best.
Galin step from the house years later and look up at the sunlight that he had not seen
since he stepped in to that house, his training was rough and that was one of the things he
gave up. His freedom was lost, until this moment. Galin smiled and whistled confident
his Pegasus stallion had not run far in this time, but when he didn’t hear him coming he
got worried. He turned around and was started as he came face to face with it. “Hey boy,”
he said in greeting and rub it’s snout, then grabbed a fist full of mane and jumped up on
it’s back. He rode fast toward home the wind feeling great though his shoulder length
hair. He thought he looked like a girl, but both master had told him, it was a cut of a
hunter and a warrior so there was nothing to do about it.
He couldn’t wait to see his family, or more important his sister butterfly, so he urged the
stallion faster and in to the air over the last hill. As soon as he could see the house he
stopped short, it was burning and figures were running around bellow. He yelled and
drew his sword, racing down the hill at a dangerously fast battle pace. The first person he
went by, he swiped it’s head clean from it’s neck. The second he cut in it it’s heart, still at
this deadly fast pace, this went on again and again until he reached the burning house.
The stallion didn’t even stop but jumped through a huge window Galin still on it’s back,
because it could sense it’s master wanted to be in that house as quickly as possible. Galin
jumped from the Pegasus, and began searching rooms. His step mother was dad and had
been raped by the looks of it. His bother was still alive, but when Galin looked at him he
saw fangs dripping red from his mouth. VAMPIRES!!!, yelled Galin and attacked his
own older brother, killing him quickly. As he stepped aside he saw his father, the bite
marks clear on his neck. He was dead as well, but they had tortured him first. Galin
turned away and walked outside, his face a mask of hatred so terrible the enemies flea
before him, not wanting to fight the monster they saw in his eyes. He reached the barn
and saw a rather large vampire standing over his struggling sister, beating her with one
hand. No expression on Galin’s face could be red as he drove the point of his blade
through its back and cut around the monsters heart, then reached in and pulled it still out
watching the beating slowly fade then stop.
Galin looked down at his dying sister and dropped the sword, kneeling down by her. He
took her hand, but no words we necessary as she slowly died. His anger became that of
sorrow and he brought his sister hand to his lips and kissed her goodbye. Then stood up
and walked out, dropping a torch on the hay watching the whole barn burn to the ground
nothing more then ashes were left except a few things of metal. A small silver dagger his
sister had always carried for protection, a heart shaped necklace of gold, and a butterfly
pin of soft blue metal. He gathered these things, and looked at them. The dagger was a
women dagger, so he slipped that inside a pouch. It would later be given to someone else
that became very special to Galin. The other two items he looks at more closely. The
butterfly pin he put in a pouch that hung around his neck, laying right over his heart and
has never taking it out since that day. Holding the necklace in his hand he mounted up on
the stallion, still holding the bloody sword and galloped off to the sacred grove.
Looking in to the small pool of water he dropped the necklace in to it. He new that this
was his sister’s favorite place. A wolf came from the forest as he did and he look up
staring at the wolf in surprise. The wolf sat down on it’s hunches and watched Galin in
return, then spoke but not out loud, though it’s mind. *What will you do now Sprit of the
wolf?* Galin looked confused and asked it "Sprit of the wolf?" It almost looked like it
was laughing, *Do you really think a human name will suffice for a birth name, with your
power. That is you name.* Galin’s eyes narrowed and he said, "no it’s not. No, I’m going
to pick my own name." The wolf didn’t look surprised at this. Galin stood up and looked at the blood covering him, "I shall be called Hunter, for that is what I am going to do until I find peace." Galin sneered as the fresh memory of his sister came to mind, a memory that would never fade over time. He would never find peace he thought.. never.
And that my friends is as much of me as you need know... or as much of me I will tell you for now, because my wife calls me for dinner.. I will see you in the realm!
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