Fimbrethil Taurelomea
From Valwiki
You living things... you're so intolerant. Why am I not allowed to walk among you, no matter. Setengar, you have betrayed me for the last time, so has those that live. I shall not rest until they all pay for their crimes against me. -Fimbrethil, His Promise
Contents |
Core Statistics
Name:Fimbrethil Taurelomea
Title:None to speak of.
Relatives: Thyrdaes Taurelomea, Mother(Dead)|Shadi Taurelomea, Father(Dead)|Arydith Taurelomea, Brother(Currently a Ghost in the ruins of Selnic)
Race:In life, he was a Forest Elf. In death, he doesn't know. Suffice to say, he's not a normal zombie, because normal zombies don't dream of world domination.
Eye:White, his pupils are clouded over almost entirely, but he can still see well enough.
Hair:What little he has left is white.
Skin-Tone:Very pale, somewhat greyish.
Height:6'6", give or take two inches.
Weight:Around 146 lbs.
Alignment:As of right now, Lawful Evil.
Personality
In life, Fimbrethil was a kind elf. He was a zealous follower of the Church of Setengar, and Church of Saurvold. The years passed, and he became more gruff, having lived through events such as both Abyssal Wars (Abyssal War I and Abyssal War II). However, when he died, his personality took a drop, he became... mean. He didn't kill anyone outright, at the start, but eventually, just recently infact, he became fed up with the outlook living things have on the undead.
Equipment
The Red Wyvern: This, is Fim's sword. It can be considered an artifact, due to it's age, although, it's not one of the well known one artifacts, having never passed hands, or have the sword be used for any great deed. Ignoring the technical issues, it's an artifact, if only because it's older than most swords, magical or otherwise. Due to it's shrouded history, hidden to all but Fimbrethil himself, its abilites, if any, are kept to himself. However, those who have seen it in action, know that it glows red.
The Cloak: Another artifact, or something else? It's even less well known than Fimbrethil's sword. He wears it all the time, and it appears to have no other special abilities other than hiding his body from view.
Abilities
Fear Aura: An Aura of Fear of course. Those who are not paladins, or veteren warriors, or in general, people who don't fight or have just begun their fighting career feel dread when Fimbrethil stalks near them. It has a radius of fifteen feet, for serious effects, but it takes hold as soon as he comes into visual view, the aura becoming more powerful as distance descreases between Fimbrethil and his prey.
However this can be avoided by not looking at him.
Manipulation: Fimbrethil is quite manipulative. He has turned this into something of an ability, being quite well versed in causing people to doubt their beliefs, sow fear and dissention into the ranks of armies, and perhaps causing a few people to join his cause.
Background
Childhood
Fimbrethil's childhood was a normal one. Filled with happy thoughts, cookies, pretend sword fights, and school. Yes, school. He was home schooled, as were many elven children those many years ago. Fimbrethil learned from his grandparents, and parents, as well as any other stranger who was staying a few days at his house. His parents quite often allowed people to shelter in case of bad weather, or they just needed to work for money. Several of those strangers were wise men, the sort who kept their nose in a book. Others were warriors, elven, human, a few times there were Kender, though Fimbrethil could never gain the use of their weapons, or any ranged weapon for that matter. No, Fimbrethil, when he could, would always use a melee weapon, and when he could, use a sword. He always chose the sword above all else, marking his future as a master of the blade, without equal, or so he thinks. His home was in Alkor, where he does not remember, all he remembers from those happy days are things such as his parents, of his first weapon. Fimbrethil wasn't just a sword master, he was also the scholar, reading books far above his age level. That would also pave the road towards his liking towards the magical arts, and of wanting to learn all that he could. He would never travel the road of the mage, he was more interested in the theory behind the spells, of perhaps ways to counter the spells.
The Wandering Years
At the age of 43, Fimbrethil left Alkor. It could be called Wanderlust, or maybe he was just bored. He doesn't know. All he knows is that one day, he just up and left, no note, nothing gone except food, clothing, and his sword, and nother to remember him by. After the first day of his wandering, he turned around. Upon a hill so high enough, he could spot Alkor, he waved goodbye, and would never return. From then, he became a wandering fighter, traveling to all corners of the world, however many times it changed. During these years, he suffered a most... humiliating defeat, by a girl. He never figured out her name, or her race, but he did figure out, that she was killed by orcs. Apparently, she had bit off more than she could chew. However, it was no matter, that defeat had left him without the ability to father children of any gender, and he became a bit more of the gruff, grumpy elf that was seen in the years when he was caught up in more than a few wars.
The Hero Years
The earliest war where he was recognized was the first Abyssal War. He never wants to repeat that, or the one after it. He was considered to be an above average soldier by the end of the first Abyssal War, though not that he cared. Fimbrethil, a few years earlier, had found out about Setengar, and had literally fallen in love with the God. He was doing this for faith, misguided faith, he would tell himself years later. By the end of the second Abyssal War, he was considered to be a hero on the battle field, saving many lives, and ending many lives. Later on, and some smaller wars later, Fimbrethil found himself in the service of Valikorlia, the patron nation for Setengar. Fimbrethil found himself two friends, two friends he misses still, two friends whom helped to lead that nation when things beyond their control were happening. Requiem and Gaiden, Fimbrethil misses you. Several other friends were made, Azenthius being one of many who befriended the grumpy elf, and later on, betrayed him. Azenthius is the reason Fimbrethil is what he is now, but the story goes on, for things happened after that... event.
The Undead Years
Azenthius was indeed in trouble, Fimbrethil was this close to defeat. The world goes black, and they wake, undead. Yes, both of them were undead. Fimbrethil, cursing the Gods for all they were worth, went a tad bit insane. However, he figured that, despite the difference between him and the majority of the world, they wouldn't hold it against him. After all, his Setengar pendant was still around his neck. He was wrong, dead wrong, pun intended. After arriving in the city, a mob... mobbed him. He was burnt beyond recognition, and thrown down near a river. Thought to be dead, truely dead. How wrong they were, and now, he comes for his revenge. At nightfall, he stole a boat, a galleon, right from under their noses, and sailed north, to the lost lands of Frost, the post-flood world having forgotten it apparently existed. The memory fades, his movements up north are secret, let it be known that it was here he acquired both the sword, and the cloak.
Present
At the present, Fimbrethil has return, thinking, just maybe, he would not be hunted for what he is. Wrong again, any friends left alive, betrayed him, Azenthius too, after being given his life back by Cahfei before the lich moved on. After that encounter with Azenthius, Fimbrethil had a battle. It was a fight in his mind, forgive and forget, or punish. He dropped the pendant in a church, Valikorlia no longer existing, all debts repaid. Fimbrethil was not happy. He would take residence in Cahfei's tower, only to be soon removed from it set aflame and finally dead, he had seduced those that could be to his side, he had punished, he had ripped, he had destroyed. And in the end, he would wish for it all to have never happened.
