Tale of my character.
I, Turnain Azrael Cavalas, am fond of old Pendorain culture and legend. I come from Barclay, where I resided and grew up. Through my childhood, I was told that I was being raised by my birth parents, and I believed it, living my life and spending my time as a squire throughout the land, I made my coin by living off those who paid me to resolve quarrels between the lords. I also owned my very own estate, passed down to me through my foster parents, to which I made tremendous profits. The main crop I grew was tobacco, and it was the finest of my area. Growing up, my name was Turnain Joshinea, my surname from my so called birth parents. I loved the wondrous hills and forests of barclay, and I would constantly compare it to the folklore and legend I heard of Pendor, a Land far to the west. I bought books from a local merchant of the ancient war almost a Millennium ago regarding the most powerful users of magic in existance. "The ancient elder races" I read "where the old Titans who laid the foundation for the ascension of Man." I read of the old races and became particularly fond of the valor and culture of the Noldor, known today as the Elves. I read of a hidden city, the only remaining, of the ones destroyed by the great Titans, and I became very curious as to how it was hidden. I was drawn to the story of the Noldor. I learned the complex language of the Noldor from an old, wise man who resided in Barclay. A linguist of sorts, who knew all languages of Pendor. From him I sought the knowledge of the tongue spoken by the Noldor as well as the men who rule in Pendor. The tale of the five kingdoms once united is all but tragic. It was inevitable. The cultural sects that divided them could not coincide, and their split was almost planned, it would seem. The man taught me the languages I needed to learn to fill my curiousity, and decided I would head for Pendor in attempts to interact with the Elves. Just before then, my father struck illness and died with an infection of cholera, but before his death he handed me a mysterious letter with the seal I recognized as that of the old Pendorian kings. "The Great Old Kingdom of Pendor. Letter directed to Turnain Joshinea." I broke the seal and read the letter. "Dear Turnain, You may have heard of me from the old tales of Pendor. I am King Cavalas, once a ruler of Pendor and am now deceased. I am writing this because the Kingdom is breaking apart, and it is my duty to inform you that you are my great, great grandson. Or at least you should be. This letter was passed down from my son, Turnain, who I told to head to Barclay and take up the task of safely making your return to Pendor. I told him of a family, calling themselves the Joshinea family. Turnain passed on your name. Your real name is Turnain Cavalas IV, named afther my son. By this title, I pass to you the rights and holdings of the great first order of knighthood 'The Order of the Griffon.' There should be followers of the order left, and would most likely be returning to Pendor at this time. May the order serve you well. Your Great, Great Grandfather, King Cavalas." With this knowledge, I carried out my trip to pendor. I took up as my middle name, Azrael, that of the greatest Knight of the Griffon. I landed on the east coast, The Empire, in the year 354. I headed north, to the Noldor and encountered a party that just about killed me. They held back after I spoke their language, and took me to one of their lords, and very luckily, the fairest of them. Ithilrandir was not particularly fond of me, as my Great, Great Grandfather had shunned his kind in his wake. I explained to him how I studied them and was very fond of them, and it was then that they realized my potential. They trained me in the art of firing a bow and arrow and using a bastard sword, with ancient rune text written upon it. They trained me in many categories, and there I lived for 3 years. They told me this was their chance to revive their once great kingdom, and told me they would support me as long as I stuck to the oath I made to recognize them. They gifted me some of their finest enchanted equipent and horse and sent me on my way. I became a tournament master, betting on my rounds, and I quickly became a rich merchant, owning at least one enterprize in every town in Pendor. I ran a mercenary company under the employment of Ravenstern and King Gregory IV. I kept my kinghood secret through all of this. One month, in a war with the Fierdsvain, they had taken Senderfall and Ravenstern. I pronounced my loyalty to Gregory as a vassal and retook the towns. From there, I created a chapter of the Order of the Griffon in each town, which raised suspicion under Gregory, and he attempted to exile me. He marched with his army of 2,500 men against me at Ravenstern, pleading my surrender. And then legend and myth became a reality as the new King of the old started his Kingdom in the north after defeating Gregory with a band of 250 Griffon Knights. Ravenstern fell quickly and later that of the Fierdsvain. The Noldor assembled four war parties under Aeldarian, Ithilrandir, Faergwethanir and Caelvanir, to assist me. And, my people, that is where I stand today, as your King! Long may he live!
From the Kingdom of the Old,
The Ravenstern North grows cold,
As the new king rises up to take,
All will fall within his wake,
The 5 kings that will once be myth,
Will most definately not be missed,
The 5 kings will always have strife,
But in the Kingdom of Azrael,
King Turnain swears he will not on his life.
Now the Griffon grows strong in the North,
As the the new kingdom will come forth.
-Poem by Seneschal Gaelwulf of Senderfall and first Constable of the new Griffon Knights.
