Selemnir Family/Feldric

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Early Life

Firstborn son of Lord Fenwic and Lady Marwyn, Feldric's childhood was largely dominated by the struggles against the rogue viking tribes of the north. Born after Lord Mordoc and before Lord Blaeric, Feldric grew to manhood training with his two cousins as if brothers. From an early age he showed remarkable skill ahorse, and always favoured to do his fighting while mounted.

At the young age of fifteen, Feldric left home and travelled across the seas with a company of northmen to serve as a mercenary captain for hire. Little is known of his five odd years in the exotic foreign islands. It is said he was often restless, never content to stay too long in one place. The only word the family recieved of his roamings were short correpondence and rumour of his growing reputation as a commander and tactician. The family knew little of his exploits, and even less about the mysterious woman he is said to have married. All that is known of her is that she is said to have passed during the birth of their daughter, Alaina, though even that is highly suspect.

Abington Years

It was suddenly that Feldric returned to Atamara, but he did not return to the family estates in the north. He landed on the southern coast, entering the realm of Abington and pledging his allegiance to the king. He brought with him his company of battle hardened veteran riders, along with his infant daughter, whose existence was kept largely within the family. Upon his arrival, Feldric made his way to the capital, Riverholm, and pledged his service to the Duke.

His career in Abington took off quickly, as word of his skill and capability became well known. He proved his worth in several battles with Redspan, including a decisive victory in Chasnoff within only a few weeks of his arrival. It was on his advice that the family estates be moved to Riverholm. It was often commented that Feldric seemed to love Abington as he had loved no other land, and his ferver was enough to sway the family.

Feldric's honours include the title of Minister for the People, one of three, as a part of Abington's people government. He participated in many battles, both great and small, and gained the favour of much of the nobility, the king himself, and was a personality loved by the populace.

One mentionable endeavour was his support of the Abington School of Swordfighting, founded by his close friend, Gauihu of house Olik. As a passionate swordsman, Feldric was proud to support the burgeoning school, and was ecstatic at the rate at which it began to grow.

Death

Feldric Selemnir, hero of Abington was killed assaulting the walls of Ash'rily, Ash Sea Islands, on December 4th, 2005. He was felled when a volley of arrows fell on the charging Abingtonian infantry, where Feldric rode in command. The army of Abington was decimated that day, and when word of Feldric's death reached the nobility and the populace, the realm mourned. His death effected the realm greatly, and has been compared with that of the famous hero Olwe the Bold. A statue of him stands above his tomb in the region of Wynford, Abington, on the grounds of the Abington School of Swordfighting.

Last Moments


As recalled by Gauihu Olik:

"Curse you for cowards! Miserable swine!" Gauihu shouted over the roar of battle as his men turned and fled. "Get back here or I'll flog every one of you! I'll have you in stocks!"

But it was no use. Amidst volley after volley of arrow-fire, the Vengence of Wynford left a third of it's men dead at the walls of Ash'rily, most of the wounded survivors crawling away on their own while the unwounded ran ahead. The mighty mangonels Gauihu had ordered hadn't fired a shot and lay broken on the bloody field.

Dazed, in a bloody-minded rage which overrided his reason, he shouted some more, even though there were few men under his command within sight. He spewed forth curses and promises of living damnation while he tortured his would-be victims inconceivably, raped their wives and daughters, castrated their sons and brothers and removed their entrails from various orifices. It had little effect, but it made him feel better, and soon he could think again.

Coldness washed over him. The Army was getting decimated over at that wall. Cowardly Islanders! Foul, betraying, low-borne marauders hiding behind their stronghold! Shooting pig-arrows from shoddy bows like gutter-swine! He grimaced and tried not to think about them. His anger knew no bounds, it was like the ocean, ready to swell and crash over the land in waves. He had to get a grip.

The men. Well, it was useless for him to stand here. He decided to go rally his men, maybe he could get them back in time.

But no. They were scattered, he couldn't find a single one of them. His captain had been killed in the first minutes of combat. Some of the men had stood for quite a while, though. The brave ones had gotten killed. Commendable. It would save him the trouble later on.

He searched, away from the bloody front, like a wounded mother looking for her babe, sword in hand, no Islander blood on it whatsoever.

Minutes passed. He made himself look at the city again. He was hurt but not surprised to see the amount of dead bodies. No breech in the wall. The Islander's flag still flew. The Army of Riverholm had been crushed.

He caught up with the other nobles. He hardly noticed them, until he decided he might assuage his anger by speaking with Feldric. But he couldn't find Feldric... and then he remembered. The Legionary Cavalry of his, charging right up to the gates under heavy fire, hacking at the defenders. He didn't see it happen, but... then Lord Deschain's words hit him...

...and left him cold. Feldric, dead. No more Feldric to lean on. No more Feldric, staunch supporter of the School. No more Feldric, Minister of the People. Feldric of his famous cavalry. Dead. Gutted by the Islanders and their cowardly arrows.

He sat down. He no longer cared if he found his men. Oh, he'd flog them, and maybe do worse things still. So too, did he no longer care about the cowardice of the Ash Sea Islands. Instead, like a rock hit by a powerful wave but which seems all the more steady afterward, Gauihu of Abington's face becomes impassive, the light of rage and youth finally departing him. There was nothing left now. Nothing except how. How, and when. The destruction of the Ash Sea Islands would perhaps suffice. The utter and total annihilation was now inevitable.

He looked forward to it.


As recalled by Ulric Von Katzing:

The rain beat down hard on that grim day, as the assault on Ash'rily began. The keening notes of the war horns sounded, and the rumble of seige engines could be heard, as could the clank of armour, as the army of Abington advanced. "FORWARDS, MEN OF SUVILLE!" hollered Ulric, and his batallion advanced, getting into good firing positions. The grim walls of the Ashen City stood before them, and the hungry but staunch defenders readied themselves. "FORWARDS, INFANTRY!" came the cry, accompanied with blasts of the horns. as one, the waves of infantry charged, and the seige engines discharged their terrible loads. "FIRST RANK, FIRE!" a wall of arrows was shot into the sky, blazing darts that streaked into the sky... but it was then that the Gods turned fate. The rain dampened the arrowflights, and extinguished the flames, as the arrows clattered against the shields and pallivaises on the top of that stout wall. Stones smashed into the wall, and some ashlanteans fell screaming, but the walls held. Then the anwsering volley. "Raise shields!" the Archers did so quickly, and those too slow- fell. The Infantry crumpled, though, but carried on. "SECOND RANK, FIRE!" another wall of arrows was sent up into the sky- with even less affect than the first time. The Ashlanteans jeered, and then unveiled their best- the Longbowmen, with their dreaded bodkin arrows. Ulric looked across the field, to see Bold Feldric leading the charging Infantry, assault ladders at hand, as they prepared to scale those daunting walls. Suddenly, the retaliation came. Ulric screamed with rage and agony as the entire first rank fell, arrows smashing Feldric and his men to the ground, his armour unable to stop their lethal bodkins. Roraing with fury, He ordered all archers to fire at once. But the battle was quickly descending into a futile melee. Wave after Wave of their Infantry was being cut down as they tried to break or scale those dire grey walls, silent ash-coloured sentinels mocking the efforts of Abington. Roaring with fury, Ulric raced forwards to try and save Feldric, but the Longbows fired again, and he turned to see his Regiment crumple and fall, the Archers slaughtered as the extreme range weapon annihilated them like corn before a scythe. Turning, tears of impotent rage in his eyes, Ulric found himself caught between a vice- the Infantry were being thrown back, and now they did not have much of an archer cover left. The mud-slick grounds before the walls were turning red with the blood of hundreds of fallen abingtonians, and the low mournful noe of the horn to withdraw was given. "NO! WE MUST PUSH ON!" screamed Ulric in fury, but he knew it was pointless. It was no orderly withdrawal. the forces of Abington gladly ran back, punished all the way. They had been beaten. "There WILL be a reckoning." he swore at the defiant, mocking, and unbroken walls.


As comprised by an anonymous bard:

Feldric's Last Moments

There were screaming men and horses everywhere. His men had long since abandoned their steeds to join the thinning ranks of those scrambling with the ram at the solid gates. He could barely see as he was rushed to the fore, caught up in the scrambling flow of soldiers toward the wall. Suddenly he was out, standing below the ramparts with what was left of his men, surrounded by foes.

Slash. Swing. Feldric swung his trusty blade as if it were a feather in his hands, cutting through countless enemies. His heart grew heavy. Despite his efforts his men were falling by the second. He no longer could tell who he was fighting alongside, whether from his men or not, but he fought bravely, as a true Abingtonian.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of his old friend, Captain Ender, fighting like he had never seen a human fight. He was mowing down enemies as if they were the grass surrounding the new School in Wynford. But just as the Captain turned to slay another of the Islanders, Feldric was alarmed to see yet another lunge towards his unprotected back. In a desperate attempt, Feldric flung his sword as hard as he could, catching the man in the back and felling him instantly. Feldric sighed, but then the arrows came, and he knew it was over. He gazed a last over his comrades, Lords and brave peasants alike. And he smiled. He was of Abington.

The arrows fell thick and heavy, like the falling of a thousand raindrops.


Last Will

Delivered by Lord Mordoc of Minas Ithil, Feldric's cousin, was a package containing several documents Feldric wished to be distributed in the event of his death. Included were his last will and testament, and a set of letters to be distributed to his closest friend. The following is its content.

Feldric's main dying wish was to have his sword delivered to the School and presented to the first man or woman named Master. Along with this wish was the distribution of his estates.

The following is the contents of the letters he wished to be delivered upon his death.

To Lord Phlex:

My friend. If you are reading this, I have surely passed. Know that, from my early days in this land when we two fought against the hordes in Chasnoff, I have always held great respect for you. May your warrior spirit live on, and some day may you find peace.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

__________________________________

To Duke Delthrien:

My liege. Know that I am thankfull for the guidance you have given me trhough my life, and let me thank you for allowing me to serve Abington as a Knight of Riverholm. I wish you happy days, filled with those you love. Cherish them, for you know not when it will all be taken away.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

________________________

To King Gabriel:

Wise King, I am glad to have served under you for all my days here in Abington. Know that I gladly give my life for this land, and would not hesitate to do so again. Abington is me, and I have lived for this land and you. May your rule last until the end of your days.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

____________________________

To Lady Morathi

I have indeed been blessed to bask in your prescence, if only for a moment. Your beauty and grace has enlightened my life, and made me proud to die for this realm. Keep Abington strong.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

________________________

To Lord Deschain:

Good Deschain. Grieve not, for some day we shall once again swill ale in the taverns and hunt bonnie lasses. Stay strong for Abington, and never let her die.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

_______________________

To Lord Ulric:

There are few men I have ever met as strong as you, both in mind and heart. You are an asset to this realm, and shall one day shine like the man you truly are. Know that you are one of the most respected friends I have shared this land with, and someday I long to see your merry face once more. You have made Abington and the von Katzing family proud, and it has been my pleasure to share my days with you.

Yours Eternally,

Feldric Selemnir

_____________________

Lord Gauihu:

Old friend, were it that I had enough paper to express what I wish. You have always been my most stalwart friend and companion. I know that you shall avenge me, but grieve not, for you of all know I would not have been satisfied to die as an old crag. I beg you, however, do not lose your own life for the sake of mine. Your future is bright, brighter than mine ever was, and I sense a greatness in you. It is my prediction that you will one day step forward and lead Abington to greatness as King.

Continue the School in my name. Let my fate be a testament to all those in the school who wish to learn the ways of the blade. I would ask you take my trusted sword, and Feldric's Blade to the man or women made master of the school. Let it forever be a symbol to the spirit of swordsmanship within the walls of your School.

I would ask you do me one last favour. I am telling you now what has never been mentioned outside of my family. I have a daughter, old friend. I have kept her hidden in Riverholm since my arrival, for fear harm would come to her by my old enemies. She is old enough now to start on her own. Present her my armour, such as what may be left of it, at my burial ceremony. Young Alaina is both bold and strong, and ready to face the world. I cannot expect her to remain in Abington, but promise me, old friend, to offer her friendship should she decide to.

So a final farewell I bid you, my closest of compatriots. Know that my spirit shall watch you always, and protect you from harm in battle. Remember Feldric as I was, and fight for what it is you believe in.

Yours, always and forever,

Feldric Selemnir