pwny_express last edited by
I am hopeful we can speak. I am Orne'Virlim and a scholar of history who is most interested in writing the history of your family. It fascinates me how the family has come from villainy to being heroes and it is a tale worth writing.
I stay for now at Maleens Tower.
Smart. For months I've searched for an honest clerk to pass on the truth of my family for the generations to follow. If you intend to record what I tell you word to word then I will indulge you. Read this and record your story, but be warned- this is not a tale of heroes nor villains- for life is never about such simple and foolish ideals. It's about destiny, family, and vengeance- but more importantly, it's about our future.
It all began barely a year ago, when the Royal Court of the Dragon Throne summoned forth their most loyal of subjects- the infamous family of Bhaliir. Through the council of his advisors, King Azoun the Fifth had discovered our bloodline yet lived in self-imposed exile, and in his wisdom offered an olive branch in return for servitude. I answered the call of his Majesty and as months went by I learned about the dreams he had for the prosperity of our nation. In time, the King entrusted with me his plans- and so I bent the knee and kissed the golden pommel of the Symylazarr, to rise as the head of my House and the bringer of my Kings Will. With the rights of my bloodline restored, I set sail and returned to my home to spread the gospel for a better tomorrow.
The 15th day of Nightal came and I arrived with my household to the port of the Citadel, to the City of Arabel. Barely could I recognize the districts, where my family had once gained it's notoriety and acted as protectorate and the provider of the poor. Rich households rose where once stood heaps of garbage and fly-ridden corpses. The Slums had become the richest of district of the city through what seemed a miracle, and thus it appeared the will of my King had already been fulfilled.
In truth, it was nothing but a facade. During the last decades, the Southern districts had prospered through the affluent influence of Lord Malcolm Hardcastle- while the rest of the city had been allowed to wither and starve. The Northern Districts, now called Old Town, had become a den of thieves and cut-throats holding half of the populace hostage. Under the leadership of the current Lord Warden of the Eastern Marches, Lord Hawklin, the city was now ruled with an iron hand through his council of many banners, where even the Church of Bane had been allowed foothold. This council of men with selfish agendas and ignorant ideals appeared as nothing but an obstacle to me and my necessary reforms. So far, it's greatest accomplishment had only been the unholy March of Bane. This, had to be changed.
So my work began by removing the hostile and dangerous influence of the Tyrant from Hawklins council. If you see me as a hero, you might say I did it to stand against the injustice and suffering they caused. If one perceived me as the villain, they could say I did it, for I saw the influence of BIshop Waynolt as a threat to my own reign as the sole provider of Old Town. In truth, Edward Waynolt, the bishop of Bane, had amassed a growing following among the people of the North, and it came by threatening my influence and my people in the process. Thus his greatest accomplishment became his biggest mistake. Now the bishop has left Arabel, and slowly but surely the faith of Bane will wane and depart from Old Town, and the colors of green have been replaced with the colors of blue.
I had my hand in his removal from the seat of influence, but I'd be lying if I made that to be the end of my deeds in Hawklin's Council. The next move from my House came with the release of the Warforged. Christoph Ampharen, at the time nothing but a bannerman in service to my house, brought to my attention the suffering- and potential- of these half-men, half-machines. We launched a public campaign to see them released through debates and political maneuvers- and succeeded in driving through our ideals. One could say we did it to free the oppressed, and another might think we simply did it to gain ourselves a powerful force as ally. Whatever may be the case, you can find the Warforged walking our streets free- with some wearing the colors of my house openly.
That was to be the last of the great feats accomplished by Hawklins Council. In the end, it's indecisiveness and the disinterest of its members sabotaged its capability and ensured its demise, but the vision of his Majesty marked the killing blow. In time the people would be given their voice to decide the future of the Northern realm, but until then many threats were to be purged to ensure utter success of our plans. My plans.
First came the time of the enthralled Cultists of the Shadow Dragon and the beginning of our expeditions to the depths of the dark. Twenty years had gone by since the calamity that disgraced my house, and the wounds were still fresh, and painful. Soon after my return to the North I learned of a Cult amassing its forces in the shadows, using creatures from the underdark to enthrall people of Arabel through infested meat. You could say I did it to protect the people, but you'd be a fool if you didn't recognize the potential for vendetta against the forces that had besmirched my family name. Duergar, dark gnomes, drow. These cultists met their end at the hands of my house, and we watched as their "Mother" fled into the darkness, never to be heard from again.
Our exploits to the dark were fruitful- as we discovered the Beholder Hive that had plotted the fall of my house centuries ago. By my own hand, I've now slaughtered a dozen of these eye tyrants, and massacred hundreds of their thralls in the process. My agents roam the depths weekly, as a warning- and reminder: Bhaliir will never forget. Even today our fight against these beholders continues through the race for the Spark of Divinity. Perhaps tomorrow, the lair of the hive's leader will be found, and House Bhaliir can finally stand atop the mutilated body of its nemesis.
Meanwhile, allies had to be gained, and enemies destroyed. First came the Gilded Gents, the malarite pack, the Followers of Manzahar and the agents of the Chaos Brigade. The Agent's of the Chaos Brigade, who for a while managed to keep their miserable selves as tyrants of Old Town, made the fatal mistake of making me their enemy. Hronk the Green Goop targeted my house and in the process signed his death warrant, and ensured the destruction of his Brigade. Though he managed to escape the reapers of Jergal twice, on the third time his mutilated corpse was beyond saving. Soon after, alongside the Gilded Gents and the Malarite Pack, House Bhaliir marched into the headquarters of the Chaos Brigade, slaughtering every monster within, before reducing their secret hideout to rubble.
Next came the need to forge an alliance with the nobility of the north. It all started by gaining the confidence of Lord Mertoi by exposing the treacherous plans of House Rowanmantle and Beorthre. Together with the Gilded Gents we destroyed the Kraken and gained the trust of House Wyvernspur. And later with house Wyvernspur we'd ensure the security of the supply-lines for the military. Then came the turn of the Malarite pack, whose crazed leader became a threat to my house, and I personally saw him slaughtered like an animal and thus gained the trust of House Tammarast.
Three months had now passed- and my hands are covered in blood of our enemies- my enemies. Because of this, the streets at last are silent- peaceful. And thus his Majesty finally reveals his ploy- and offers the unburdened people his final gift- their voice. A voice I helped to shape.
One could say I took my part in this farce of an election to show my support to the Kings decision. One could say that I only sought for power through whatever means possible- and that I lost when the results were revealed and I came third with only 20% of the votes. But then they'd fail to acknowledge where the rest of the votes went, and the progress this election meant for my dream- our dream.
Without our sacrifices, the North would've been left vulnerable to many threats that'd continue to thrive. You can call it as the essence of the nobility to answer the call and defend the Forest Kingdom. Or you can call it the need of single noble house in search of vengeance, butchering anyone that steps in our way.
Thus, you can call me a hero- or you can call me a villain. In the end, it doesn't matter- for the Lesson to be learned should still be the same- Humanity will prosper.
Lord Foril Bhaliir
Protectorate of the People
Lord Paramount of House Bhaliir
pwny_express last edited by
We should seek out conversation my Lord Bhaliir. I believe our interests align for this region and we have far more in common than you would imagine! I believe it is best that I align myself with a force for good and that will be either yourself or the small village of Tilverton. There is a rot in Arabel itself that dishonors my family and all we have sacrificed to protect it.
I will seek you out at your convenience my lord.
I don't know the name of your family nor the sacrifices you refer to, but you have piqued my interest with your earlier inquiry. Since I'd never refuse a capable hand, I'm willing to hear what you have to say.
I will be visiting the citadel later today (in 2-3 RL hours). Then I will have time for proper introductions.