Urominiel Family

House Urominiel

Members of this house have transversed the continents looking for whatever it is warriors, nobles, knights, mentors, bureaucrats, traitors, civil servants, bounty hunters, patriots, rogues, traders, assassins, merchants, bards and the sorts look for.

Fame

Categorized to leave out exact details so not to spoil your fame hunting fun.

• Prestige-4/6
• Government Positions-8/9
• Local Positions-4/4
• Tournaments-4/4
• Class specific-4/?
• Wealth-3/3
• Construction-4/?
• Unknown-1/?
• Other-3/?
• Total Discovered-36/51

Members

Glorawarthien

Realms: Sirion, Assassins, Plergoth, Arcaea, Svunnetland, Soliferum, Antoza Commonwealth, Grand Lodge of Lunaria, Nighthelm, Toren, Kingdom of Alluran.
Positions: Count, Battlegroup commander, Duke, Former Prime Minister. Currently: Deceased, Executed in Falasan.

His Story

Elenaraloki

Realms:Eleador
Positions:Former Archpriest, Royal Treasurer, High Marshal, Battlegroup Commander
Currently: Deceased, died as a hero on the battlements of Ashforth.

Eyes of a Child

An epic battle, the clash of wood on wood, the laughter of comrades, children, he felt as if he were there again. Then the battle gave way to the voice of his mother, Nnoaj, and she stood there calling to him with her winding orange-red hair and radiant smile, just as he remembered it. "Elenhir, its getting late, time to go home". He gathered his wooden sword and shield then waved to his comrades knowing another epic battle would be waiting tomorrow.

He ran towards his mother full of tales of his days adventures, but she grew ever more distant and her radiant expression faded into melancholy. He heard noises of battle behind him but it was no longer coming from his childhood friends. He turned to see his father, Elenaraloki, General and Hero of Eleador upon the battlements of Ashforth. Blood streamed from his armour, from the volley upon volleys of arrows that rained down. Soon after the battlements were overrun with Perdanite and Oligarch troops. Elenaraloki slew many but he wasnt known for his swordmanship, soon he was overcame. The Eleador capital fell and the city burned. Elenhir stood in utter disbelief, the man he once though invincible lay in a pile of bloodied bodies.

The ruins of the city became leaves in a bondfire and he watched the embers dance in the autumn breeze. From beyond the hill, he recognized the banner of the approaching unit, the Lancers, his father had come home. His ever joyous mother came through the doors to greet her husband, but instead was handed his belongings. "Where is daddy?" he asked her, but she didnt reply. Nnoaj kneeled down and held her son tight, so hard that Elenhir had difficulty breathing. But he didnt dare move since this was the first time he had seen his mother cry.

The weight on his shoulders grew and his now steel sword weighed in his hand. He turned to see his mother in that doorway, that was the last time he had ever seen her. She had never been the same since she was widowed at the age of twenty two. He turned away from her for the last time, when he returned from the military academy the house was no longer occupied.

Rank upon ranks of Old Rancaguan troops and amoungst them stood Elenhir, and with him his father Elenaraloki, courageous, noble and mother Nnaoj, caring, amiable. Elenhir awoke in his tent in Woolton from the maggots, the images still fresh in his mid, where were those virtues now?

Aralaiquendi

Realms:Abington, Antioch, Fronen, Ikalak(SWI), Ikalak(SEI), Silantin, Yssaria, Arcaea, Sirion
Positions:Former Prime Minister of Ikalak(SEI), Former Marquis
Currently: Retired to the family mansion in Clyderee on Atamara.

Gwaethinriel

Realms:Carelia, Voghor, Sandalak(SEI), Highland Empire, Kaltaran, Sartania, Perdan, Ikalak(SEI)
Positions:High Marshal Currently:Wandering around FEI as a commoner.

Arrival

Gwaethinriel finally stepped onto dry land after a long jouney from the south islands. She despised the sea breeze flowing through her hair and the smell of salt on everything around the port. "The rogue port of Sasrhas, Im starting to feel at home already" She thought. She wandered through the streets ruled by anarachy and governed by chaos. A few bodies littered the streets but she couldnt tell if they were dead or just had too much to drink. The streets were still full of rogues, smugglers and pirates moving back and forth from taverns and pubs. Many eyed her but most were too drunk to notice. She cleaned the blood stains off her dagger as she left the city from the south, hoping she didnt draw too much attention to herself in that little scuffle.

To be Titled

Her last order as general of the Highlands was issued, Gwaethinriel stepped away from gathering army and returned to the battlefield. Walking amongst the bodies she questioned the reason why she had remained in the Highland empire, perhaps it was a sense of duty, but that wasnt the reason she came to the far east continent.

Dragging a dead Lasanar soldier from the field Gwae slips off his uniform and dresses herself in it. Jon was dead, the empire would crumble, and she would rather be on the side of the victor, but first she would visit her father. Since she had became a noble her hatred from him gradually declined, she only wanted to see him again. She no longer faulted him for abandoning her, after having witness so many deaths in the past few years she was just glad he was still alive.

A New Life

Gwaethinriel awoke to the muddied sands clinging to her face, the water softly brushing her hair away allowing a ray of sunlight to radiate its glowing warmth into her vision. She lay there in the delta indulging in the comfort of her sandy bed and frigid blanket. Slowly she began to feel the penetrating pain in her extremities, the cold touch that emanated from her core. Pushing herself off the sands, Gwaethinriel made her way to a nearby thicket. She gathered what she could to conjure up a fire and dry the water kissed rags that she wore.

Having little memory of the incident, or anything else for that matter she examined the items that she had: A short sword that she wore on the belt around her waist; a coin purse, empty; a few bits of paper, no doubt former letters ravaged by the ocean; A watch glass, useful for starting fires; and a few other bits of junk that could possibly be peddled off for a silver coin or two. Her clothes, though now wore and water-logged appeared to be expensive and of military design.

It was nearing midday now and the only thing she had had to eat or drink was sea water for who knows how long. The rustling bushes hinted at something perhaps edible resided in them. Gripping her sword, she moved as silently as she could towards the beast or monster or lunch that made the noise. She made quick work of the animals and after her meal turned their heads in for a small bounty to fill her purse. Now with warm dry clothes, a filled stomach, still oh so very confused, Gwaethinriel paid to hitch a cart towards the city.

The Black Scythe of Slaying

Gwaethinriel came upon an odd fellow during her investigations for undead and monster activity in Arrmol. He sat on and old log tinkering, but with what she couldnt see clearly. She approached him but he cut her off before she could speak. "Your one of them adventuring types, arent you. Well there are no undead or monsters around here. I know what you're after. If you leave the undead and monster for my stomach, I can craft one for you with that flintstone there. However I need one other item, some large antlers. If you can bring them to me before dinner I will have an item for you." Gwaethinriel called to Xyola, the two always stayed within earshot of each other. Xyola produced a pair of antlers. The man fiddled with the flintstone, trying to the light a fire. "You two standing there make me nervous. Now I must be going or my dinner will be cold" He handed the items back to Gwaethinriel and Xyola, leaving them in the clearing baffled as he disappeared into the dense foliage.

On their return trip after scouring the region, they saw the man again, sitting on the same log. "Ah there you are, I would have invited you to dinner but undead and monsters are scarce in this area. Now you still have the antlers and flintstone don't you." He took out a sack of white powder and poured it on the grass and lit it with the flintstone. "This is much easier on a full stomach." he said as a brilliant black flame erupted on the spot. Gwaethinriel and Xyola watched in amazement as he passed the antlers through the flame, melting and moulding them with his hands. Then he shaped the flintstone in the flame into a sleek curved blade. The two items now charred black and melded together formed a formidable weapon, The Black Scythe of Slaying.

Gwaethinriel held the scythe, charred black yet polished and surprisingly cool to the touch. Glimpses of her pass came flowing back as she held the weapon, the undead, the chaos, the abandonment, the loneliness. She gripped the scythe and vowed to purge the undead from the land.

Celegam

Realms:Arcaea, Ethiala
Positions:None Currently:Retired Troop Leader, Merchant in Topenah.

His Story

Elenhir

Realms:Old Rancagua, Falasan, Yssaria, Midas Chia, Rogue, Old Grehk, Sandalak(SWI), Taselak(SEI), Ashborn, Outer Tilog, Ibladesh.
Positions:Dictator and Executor Currently:Under the control of a Necromancer.

The first son of Elenaraloki and Nnaoj. Elenhir had been trained at a military academy since the passing of his father at an earlier age. When he became of age, he began down the path to reclaim his father's glory, a path that has since gone horribly awry.

His Story

Menelmereth

Realms:Ibladesh, Cagilan Empire, Riombara, Lasanar, Miraglonn.
Positions:Duchess and Queen Currently:Deceased, Executed in Lasanar.

Life and Death

The darkness crept every closer from the edge of her vision. She did not fear death, it was a welcomed relief from the world plagued with wars. The irony that she worked so hard to prevent the death of soldier only to welcome it herself. Maybe like her they sought death as a relief from their less then perfect lives. For them that brief moment of glory on the battlefield maybe what they lived for. It was too late now, her lungs struggled for the last bit of air. Mayhaps her death will put to rest the hatred from the Lasanar nobles and put their hearts at peace.

She closed her eyes focusing on the fleeting images as they flashed by in her mind, some events she could not consciously recall. As an infant, she was left outside the estate of a wealthy merchant in Oligarch city, her mother knew a brothel was no place for an child to grow up. She could see her foster parents faces as they aged over the years, the only parents she had ever known. She saw her mother wanting to take her back to pay off a debt. No she could not live that kind of life and do what her mother asked of her. She saw the Ibladesh sergent at the recruitment center. She saw her first battle against the armies of Perdan, the chaos, the disorder, the bloodshed. She quickly retired to a non-combat military role as a trader and bureaucrat. Her one love in life was to travel the countryside from city to city and she made her living in trade. She could see the towers of Ibladesh city, the plains of the Cagilan Empire. It was there she took up mentoring, the large realm had many new troop leaders join daily. Eventually the Cagilan Empire too became engulfed in war and she left for another land to travel and trade. She could see the coastal waters of Lasanar, a realm whos food was to feed the entire continent. Lasanar too soon fell into the grasp of war and she was accused of High treason for not giving support. The Lasanar people called her a traiter, but the only person she felt she had betrayed was her Duke Ingus. She saw him at the moment when he stepped down asking her to take good care of his city and she failed him.

Cecelle

Realms:Ethiala.
Positions:None Currently:Missing.

Celegam and Ellewen Frantically searched Topenah city, "Cecelle!" they called. "Where could have that child gotten off to, shes a young women now, she cant just go running around the streets everytime we are in a city, has she no etiquette. I did not mind when she was younger and wanted to play with the boys and their wooden swords, I just thought she would have grown out of it by now." Celegam reassured Ellewen as they continued their search through the city streets.

Thalathafn

Realms:League of Anacan, Light of Fountain, Avamar Selective, Grand Lodge of Lunaria.
Positions:Marshal Currently:Marshal of Field of Honour.

"Thalathafn, you have grown and matured it is time you hear how you came to be with us. You had always know we were not your birth parents. I found you some 15 years ago on a hunting trip in the forests south of Anacan. There was also a women there but she was seriously wounded and died shortly after. We took you in to our noble house and raised you as our own, now you are of age and your path is your own."

Tournament

Part I

The banners of the noble houses flew over the tournament grounds as more and more nobles arrived at the tournament grounds. Free drinks at the tavern were a regular occurance and the training areas were busy as always. The nobles showing their skill to the crowd were impressive, each one more than the last. Thalathafn looked forward to the day when he would be in the same skill class as them. But today his body was sore from the past few days of rigorous training, so it was day to visit the taverns and socialize with the other nobles. Having arrived from distant lands not to long ago, everything was still very new to him. Quietly he slipped into the tavern and awaited the next round of drinks.

Part II

It was oddly quiet today in the tavern. He could only suspect all the nobles were too busy with their training. The rounds of drinks had all but stopped, so he went for a walk. There was a rather large gathering by the training rounds but again the silence was eerie. Each stoke of blade through the crisp air could be heard clearly and the odd thunk of lance on its wooden mark and clash of steal. The on lookers marvelled at the swordsmanship displayed by each of nobles, but with their jaws hung in awe, the only sounds they could muster was an occasional ooooh and ahhhh. All eyes focused on the nobles showing their skill, the heavy breathing of the horses and riders could clearly be heard amidst the hooves. Thalathafn joined the crowd for awhile hoping to pickup some new moves while he waited for all the entertainment to be over so the nobles could speak a coherent phrase or two.

A Look into the Past

Thalathafn carefully unfolds the delicate note, the only link to the mysteries of his life. The faded entangled "U" emblem which the tournament goers informed him as belonging to the the Urominiel family crest. Could that women be his mother? Did she belong to this noble house? There were too many questions, but perhaps he would find some answers. Sure enough, the emblem on the letter match that of his decaying note. The letter read:

Thalathafn,

It saddens me to hear the tragic events of your childhood. To my knowledge there were no noble ladies of this house on that continent at that time. Although while I was recovering from my wounds in the Temple of Ossaet, I did recieve a letter. It was from a young woman, I had met her once but the name escapes me now. The timing of events make it possible that she is the women you inquire about. The letter she wrote to me claimed she was carrying my cousins child, but my poor cousin was banished from the realm as a rebel. I believe her intentions were to travel to Hatdhes after the birth to find her uncle, and together they would look for my cousin, Glorawarthien. It is possible she got into an accident enroute. Perhaps you can look for the man in Hatdhes, he may be of more help than I, all I can give are speculations.

Aralaiquendi Urominiel

A Hero is Born

The walls of Batesaor loomed in the distance as the first rays of sunlight peaked from behind the coastal city fortress. The casted silhouette of the city upon the infant dawn an imposing sight for the marshalled forces. Messengers road between the city and the armies delivering messages of slander and propaganda between the lordly nobles. Each time a new message was delivered, it was crumpled and left in the mud at the mercy of the horses hooves. "What nobles are these that cant even follow a simple code of honour", Thalathafn thought. It was ironic that he would be the one to judge other nobles of uncivilized behaviour. He quickly adjusted his armour that had shifted on the road. It would be a glorious battle ahead and he would great his enemies with respect and death with honour. Looking back at his siege engine in tow and the armies still following behind him, Thalathafn knew this would be a chance to show his valour and establish himself as a true hero.

As the walls approached Thalathafn looked around him, 100 infantry and five nobles set up in the front lines, behind them the archers and cavalry, as the rear guard the bulk of Nighthelms infantry force. This was truely the chance he hoped for, one hundred men fighting the thousands upon the walls. He ordered his men to move the siege tower closer shield themselves behind it from the hail of arrows. Six fell to the arrow storm, his unit now left at twenty pushed onward and upward through the siege tower. The other eighty infantry with no siege weaponry of their own and faced with an daunting wall of stone crowded up his siege tower as well. Now the siege tower designed for twenty was filled to its brink with a hundred men all vying for the ladders. Thalathafn pulling himself up through the mob and led the charge at the bloodied patch of wall where his siege engine was latched. The defenders were overwhelming and his unit was thrown back. The other units fell one by one, but Thalathafn was determined, he gathered his men and began another climb up the siege tower. Again they charged and were met with a thousand spears and swords. Thalathafn surged on feeling the stings of steel in the exposed areas of his armour. He tumbled from the battlements with darkness creeping upon him, as he fell he watched the Nighthelm troops advance with their siege engines and knew he did his part and demonstrated his valour given the incompetent leadership and tactics used in the siege.

Annaej

Realms:Sandalak(SWI), Kingdom of Alluran
Positions:High Marshal, Duchess Currently:Duchess of Eno.

Dauntless

The early rays of light warmed the frost on the grass fields drawing forth a blanket of myst over the lowlands of Ovujemeh. Annaej with her dark golden hair sat up stern in her smoke gray horse as scout reports trickled in from all directions. As a child she was taxed with a heavy burden, to remain steadfast staring into the face of death and purge of land of its curse. All the years of training had made her what she is today, undaunting yet compassionate. The tainted soil of the monster isle was where she belonged to defend the lands from the walking dead and to find her brother, Elenhir, and put him to rest. To lift the curse on all the living dead, was her destiny. The people of Ovujemeh were scared, she could sense it, but soon they would have nothing to fear. Once they learn, the sight of Alluran banners flapping in the wind will be welcomed with open arms. They no longer needed to fear a plague across the land.

The Holy Alluran Army

Eight hundred plus bodies were tossed into the ocean as Annaej watched through the spyglass. There was nothing she could do, there was nothing anyone could do. The city simply did not have enough food and when food arrived the peasents ate without any sense to ration food for the hard days ahead. Annaej handed the spyglass off to her aid and motioned to the soldiers to put out the signal fire as she made her way back from the edge of the stone pier. "Keep an eye out on the water for any who have gained unfavourable judgement from Alluran," She said to the captain as she walked passed one of the gatehouses to the harbour. She paid little attention to the suffering in the streets, saved for the ones that looked too dead to still be alive, but the adventurers should take care of them if they wanted part of the bounty.

As they reached her estate, she sent an aid ahead to prepare 100 gold for the war chest. The army would be on the move again soon, but it would be under a new name. Ten riders from her estate were out front to greet her. She sent them away two by two with a the names of nobles assigned to the new army. The Holy army of Alluran; Ten of Eno's finest knights, sooned to be joined by knights from Brovyl and Xween. Annaej motions to the few remaining riders,"Inform all the trainers and blacksmiths within the realm that the war chest in Eno will be paying for the training and repairs of everyone in the Holy Alluran Army."

"May Alluran guide his army to bring his judgement over the land."

First Encounter

The allied forces awaited the coming onslaught upon the grassy field, rank upon rank of infantry and companies of archer nervous for their first encounter with Daimons. Annaej on her stallion paced back and forth infront of her unit as a heavily armoured man approached. Although she could not see his face behind the helmet, she knew who it was, it was just a feeling she had. He nodded as he passed by to take command of the small raggedy unit beside hers. She smiled back and took comfort in knowing that she had finally found her brother and that he would be there to watch over her in the oncoming battle.

Storms clouds formed in the distance blocking out the sun signaling the approach of the Daimon army. The faint reddish hue that reflected off the clouds grew deeper as a rumble in the distance was heard. The horses, uneasy, reared and jostled the riders in their saddle but the steadfast soldiers held their ground and clutched their weapons tighter. Their forms grew in the distance, not unlike that of monsters, towering and jagged. But unlike monsters their bodies were covered with patches of the fiery liquid that birthed them. As they drew closer their vile stench became apparent. The daimons shrieked a warcry which pierced the very soul of those on the field as they charged into the defenders ranks.

In one fluid motion Annaej let the daimonic blade glide off her shield and drove her sword into its underarm. As soon as she pulled her sword free, ten halberds gutted the abomination and heaved it towards the rear ranks. The daimons blood marred the very earth where it spilt and scared the flesh of the defenders as many daimons fell in the initial wave. The second and third knocked Annaej from her horse and the poor beast was swiftly torn apart by fiery claws. A few brave souls plunged their halberds into the daimons standing over Annaej giving her enough time to get back to her feet only to get knocked down again by another blow. The human line was waivering, her own unit was being pushed back by the daimons stepping over her. Only a few units held their ground, now overrun by the daimon advance, fighting without fear.

Annaej crawled along the muddied field, the once green grass now scorched black and some still burning. She got closer to her brothers unit, now surrounded by daimons but undaunted they fought with an unholy fervor. Rotting limbs exposed from their battered armour and on some bony stumps where limbs once existed, but so long as they could wield their weapon they surged on. She rose slowly gazing in disbelief having only discovered that she had fought along side what she sought to cleanse from the world.

Before she knew it she was back on the ground, this time Elenhir, propped up on all fours looking down at her. His face flinched in agony. Annaej looked down to see the blade protruding from his abdomen. No soon had she looked back up to see his face sink and his hair flittering down from his scalp. His skin wrinkled and peeled back revealing the rotting flesh underneath as he broke into a maniacal laughter decaying into a muffled murmur then silence. His bloodied corpse collapsed ontop of her, the unholy aura that gave it life dissipated. The daimon gave another thrust and Annaej felt a sharp pain followed by darkness.

Breathing deeply and clenching her sheets Annaej awoke petrified, staring into the ceiling of her tent, half expecting it to be torn out from the ground. But there was no reddish glow from the heavens, only the soft moonlight. Regaining her composure Annaej reached for her sword and called for the maid to help her with her armour. The sentries still in their post but the first units were already preparing to move. The men were anxious as they gathered their supplies. No doubt a clash with the daimons will be different from anything they had ever seen but the allies had marshaled a mighty army, one that can rival any through the history of the continent. Annaej mounted her horse and lead her unit to join the column of Alluran forces marching to Ardmore.

Nnoaj

Realms:Sirion, Pian en Luries
Positions:none Currently:none

To Escape

Nnaoj felt the sense of urgency as she hurried through the streets of Ashforth. Perhaps she was not too late, she thought. Her unit was already stationed atop the battlements with the Rancaguan troops waiting for the Fontanese attack. She rushed towards the generals quarters in time to catch a glimpse of Elenaraloki and his command staff leaving for the battle. She knew the odds were against them as they prepared to defend the Eleador capital from the combined might of Oligarch and Perdan. The horns and battle cries signaled the onslaught as she climbed to the top of the battlements. The enemies poured over the breached fortifications in a blur passing over her as she drifted through the melee. Finally she saw him, pierced with half a dozen arrows but still valiantly holding the section of wall his unit was to defend. Moving through suspended time she brushed aside the slings and arrows and made her way towards him. But she was too late. Kneeling beside her beloved she kissed his lips in a moment which seems like forever as the warmth faded from them.

she opened her eyes to the cries of an infant and a smell of incense. The air heavy and the room glowed with an orangish hue. The hooded dark figures stood over her, silently, their faces hidden. They motioned for her to rise and chanting an unknown passage led her, as she stumbled away from the bloodied stone pedestal. The next room was much larger with sandstone pillars running up the irregular walls. At the far end rays of light pierced the smoke of the incense that emanated from the black orbs hanging from each pillar. Under each oillet, stood a small figure cloaked in yellow. As she drew closer, one of the figures leaped forward, throwing back her yellow hood and revealing a young girl. Nnoaj knelt down on one knee and brushed the tears from the girls face, looping her hair behind her ears. Leaning her forehead against the child's, Nnaoj whispered, "I know" as she closed her own eyes and let a tear roll down her cheek.

The re-occurring dreams of that battle she hadn't had for many years but having to fight upon those battlements and seeing the complacent Sirion nobility once again had brought them flooding back. Even now as those events are passed and far away they still grip her with their tendrils and remain fresh in her mind.

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