Raliver D’Ronaven

The True Biography of Raliver D’Ronaven
Scribed on Tilamaires, day 15 of the month Koaratos in the year 5103.

Upon submitting my original biography, I was not totally truthful. I did not lie in any of it, all of it occurred, I just did not reveal everything my past. To be honest, I was afraid. Afraid someone would find me again and put me through the torment I endured for 25 years. Found below is an actual account of my history.


Background and family:

I was born of the 25th day of Lormestra, in the year 5046. I was born to a loving father and mother, neither of whose names I was able to find. I simply called them “sir” and ‘”ma’am”. We were members of the Wsalamir Clan, live in the arctic colds a distance from Icemule Trace. My father was not only a guard of our town, but the Captain of our militia, the highest rank in our army. Thus, the reason for the name I called him. He was a soldier of a Kai, a devout follower, which is where I draw my devotion. My mother was a high Priestess of Lorminstra, a member of the council in our village. I lead a demanding life, being taught to fight and preserve life at the same time is very demanding, and I began to break away from the preservation aspect. I enlisted in the militia at 8 years of age, and trained harder than any other squires. I followed my father into many battles. My brother Metson, took the other path, that of the spiritual. He began a priest, and quickly advanced through his classes and became a Deacon of the church. He still practiced the blade with my father, as I continued lessons with my mother.

Day of change:

Two years after I was in the militia, I was fighting at the side of my father. On a cold winter evening, our village was beset by an evil clan of giants. It was during a festival to celebrate Kai, so the townsfolk were not prepared. They slaughtered many; men, women, and children were are killed. As soon as we were able, the militia went to battle with these men, if you could call them that. It was not long before our numbers began to dwindle, and my own father was slain. At the sight of this I fell to me kneels and began to pray, but it fell on deaf ears. I was shot in the side by an archer, and shortly captured by some of their soldiers.

Years to follow:

For the next twenty years, I was enslaved. I was tortured on a daily basis and worked all hours of the day. At times they would not let us sleep and we would work through the night. Mostly they had us building their castles and their keeps, at times we were simply used for amusement. They would put us in pits to wrestle their dogs, starved and beaten these dogs hated all things. They would be bind their hands at the wrists and left them there to be slashed by their claws and gnawed on. Many of my clan died in the pit, and I was very lucky to have never been sent to it. At this point in time, I believe all of my family to be dead, since I had not seen them in many years. I was alone, soon all of my clan was killed by some form of another. And what made it worse, is that we did not know who our torturer was. We all assumed he was a Priest of V’Tull, and the warriors were all followers as well, for when we first arrived we were branded with scimitars that burned a bright red glow for many years, but has since faded to black.

Escape:

After twenty years, death was the best that could happen to one in the camp, besides being freed, and that wasn’t to happen anytime soon. I knew I had to get out, or I would face the same demise as so many others. I was going to risk everything. One night, when the clouds covered the lights of the moon, I decided to attempt an escape. We had been working in the rock yards, busting stone to make it easier to work with. When the guards stopped looking I set my manacles on the rock and shattered them with my hammer. I then ran. I ran all night and into the next day. I had no idea of where I was, but it didn’t matter, I just kept running. I ran until I could run no more, where I fell and lost consciousness. When I woke I found a lone tower in the forest where I had fallen, and began to rummage through it. I was filled with hatred, and I needed a way to get back at those who tormented me for so long. I found a few weapons and some rusted armor. I set out to find their camp. It didn’t take long, for I remember most of the path that I took. Rage filled me, and I believe the tattoo I was branded with began to burn, as if V’Tull was driving me to kill. I stormed the camp, killing every one of those slavers. Most of them I tortured slowly, making sure they felt the pain I had felt for twenty years of my life. After they were all dead, I advanced towards the keep where the priest was. I climbed up into his window, where I found him asleep. I bound him, and tortured him until he died from the pain. I was a mad man, and no better than any of those other men. I burned the whole keep down, with all the soldiers locked inside. I was a broken man….but I was finally free.

Finding home:

I attempted to locate my family, by first trying to find my village, however, I only found despair. They had burnt it down once they were done with us, and the wind and animals had scattered all that was left of my home. The only structure that remained standing was the temple. As I entered through the giant, wooden doors, I was struck with the grief. My mother had been hung from the rafters, along with the rest of the council. The only way I could identify her was by her ring that my father had given to her on their wedding night. I buried her that night. I once again left home, but this time I had no idea where I would end up.


Sanctuary:

After traveling for several days, I came upon a group of monks, in the yard of their monastery. Now, after so many years of torture, one can turn his back on the faith, which I had done. I asked these monks for shelter, and they gave it to me. I spent the next five years there. I learned to read and studied the books of the ages, on all subjects. I regained my devout faith to Kai, as my lessons with the monks progressed. Through their lessons, I have learned what I did to those men in the keep was no better than what they did to my people. I learned that murder, for any reason is a destructive path, as it had destroyed part of me. To this day, I live to regret the murderous acts I committed on that night. They also taught me combat, but with only my fists. Many Kai followers resided there, and I learned a great many things. Through their lectures, it was the first time I heard of the Talismans of Kai. I knew I had to witness them for myself.

Aftermath:

The journey to visit the Talismans is what brought me to the Landing, and eventually the place where I called home. I said I had a brother, and believed that he was lost to me, until I visited the Voln monastery, where I saw him in quiet meditation. He wore the symbol my mother had gave him upon becoming a Deacon. I was filled with joy the moment I saw him. I was no longer alone. That day, made me whole again.

Onoir:

Many may ask how I became a member of Onoir. Well, as I said, I made my home in the Landing, and was a very frequent hunter. One day, when asking around if anyone could spare some spells, a young women decided to help me out, and in turn has changed everything. Her name was Lady Aurla, a wonderful wizard. I found her sitting in the garden in front of her home, which was coincidentally near mine. She was the first of Onoir to aid me in the lands, and the first to mention the name Onoir. Another member helped me, by taking me hunting in River’s Rest, my first journey there. His name was Lord Garthalemeu, and at that time I believe he was the Lord Tyler. With the help of these two, I grew in my learning of the ideals behind Onoir, and my love for the group. Since then, I have made many new friends, shared many smiles, and have had few moments of sadness. With this great House, I have become the man I was to be. The man you know as Raliver D’Ronaven.