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Skandor

Skandor was born to a farming family near the city of Merriam. He was the only child of his father, Raymont, and his mother, Leiella. The family lived a simple life together, living off the land, occasionally making the trip into Merriam to sell produce and the like. In turn, they would use what little money they made to buy farm implements, repair old ones, buy new livestock, etc. They did not spend money frivolously, by any means. The "wealth" they shared was not materialistic, or based on money. It was the love they shared, the respect for the land they had acquired, and the simple happiness of being a family supporting themselves.

But like all things, something so peaceful could not last for long.

Skandor was a mere eight summers when the raiders came. No, not an army, not a horde, but simply five men who refused to make an honest living. Instead, these burglars rode from homestead to homestead, stealing and robbing. They made unpredictable, lightning-fast strikes, so as to avoid any pursuit or capture. And since they attacked farmsteads out on the fringes of society, the nearest militias usually decided that it would be something that the farmers, themselves, would have to handle.

It was late evening, Skandor had been put to bed. He could hear his mother and father talking downstairs, like they usually did. Their voices were soft and soothing, and he could barely make out their words. He remembers his father being happy about the current crop—praise Geb! He remembers mother and father laughing, talking playfully, when he suddenly heard the sound of splintered wood as the door was crushed in.

Skandor dashed to the railing, and saw five roughly-dressed men enter the house. Raymont grabbed the poker from the fireplace and swung it wildly towards the leading man, and caught him square across the face. The impact, as well as the red-hot metal against skin, caused the man to scream in anguish and fall to the ground. The next man, though, was ready, and in one quick stroke, he impaled Raymont with his sword.

Leiella screamed in terror, unable to act until Raymont fell to the floor, she ran to his side. One of the other men grabbed her, throwing her onto the kitchen table. When he began to tear the clothes from her body, Skandor could take no more. He did all his mind told him to do: he hid. He found a niche between his chest-of-drawers and the wall where he would sometimes hide when playing "hide and seek" with his father. Tears streaked down his cheeks as the sounds of his mother's screams echoed through the house. His body was frozen, not a muscle would move. Eventually, his mother's screams turned to sobs.

"Put the bitch to the sword, and lets be on our way!" commanded their apparent leader.

Skandor's mind screamed: do something! Save her! But again, his body would not respond.

"That's a right nasty burn ya got there, Goril!" said another one of the men.

Again, the "commander's" voice sounded. "I'll do more than burn ye if ye don't get yer arse moving!"

From his position, he could hear his mother scream one last time, as it was cut short suddenly.

"Burn it," the commander said, the one named Goril.

Skandor heard the sound of a lantern breaking, and shortly after could smell burning wood. He could make out the faint sounds of horses riding away outside, and when he saw the orange reflection of flames from the stairway, his body finally broke out of its spell. He dashed to the top of the stairs as smoke billowed upward, making him choke.

The flames were spreading rapidly, and he knew right then that he could not go down. He was able to see his father's body, as well as his mother's, one last time from the top of the stairs. Their corpses, now burning and unmoving, would forever be engraved in his mind…as well as the man named Goril.

He ran quickly to his window, and slid down the sloping roof. He fell roughly to the ground, and he heard something snap in his arm, and felt the pain that only a broken bone can bring. He bit back the tears, both from the broken limb and from the splinters in his backside, and got up…and ran. He only looked back once, to see his house being fully enveloped in flames. And he ran…

He eventually came to Merriam, days later, after getting lost only once or twice. He was hungry, his arm pained him, and he was in shock over the incident of a few nights past. He made his way to a church, and entered. When a priest approached him curiously, the boy broke down and cried. The priest saw the boy's condition and knew right away that something was wrong. He had the boy attended to: fed, watered, and his arm healed. Skandor explained what had happened, but the priest, of course, could do nothing but console the boy.

The priest, and the church, was dedicated to Thoth. The priest decided to accept the boy, as his temple sometimes did with castaways and orphans. For now, Skandor would have a home…

But life was not easy. Skandor quickly became bitter, and angry, with all that had happened. His family, all that he knew, was taken from him in the span of less than one hour, and no one explained why. No one could. He wept bitter tears for months every night at bedtime. Many nights, he would strain to hear his mother and father's voices, one last time…but they were never there.

He also had recurring nightmares of the incident, all over again, fresh as though he were there once more. He relived the pain… and worst of all, the cowardice… of the destruction of all he loved.

Skandor had problems with other young squires and acolytes. He got into many fights, and at times he was uncontrollable. He would start fights, sometimes, even against overwhelming odds, as if he were trying to prove something. The leaders of the temple spoke of the boy often, and rarely in a positive light. They decided, eventually, to send him to the temple of Anhur, where his war-like nature might be put to good use.

Skandor was told about the temple, and for the first time in a long time, he smiled. War. Battle. They would teach him to be brave. They would teach him how to kill. Never again would he freeze in fear, never again would he be a coward.

This is not to say Skandor became evil, in fact, quite the opposite. He hoped that no one would ever have to suffer as he did, and he made it his life's goal to see to it.

The training and raising in the temple of Anhur was rigorous and tough at times. Still, Skandor embraced it all. When there was pain, he relished it. When there were lessons, he devoured them. Over time, his entire trust, and faith, was placed in Anhur's hands. Anhur responded by granting him the powers of a paladin.

Skandor was entrusted with many small errands, deliveries, etc. He came to know the town of Merriam quite well. He was trained in the use of a horse, religion, etiquette, the area's history, and how to read and write the common language of man.

Eventually, near his 20th birthday, he was brought before the leaders of his sect and was given his largest mission to date. He was being assigned to safeguard one of the clerics of his guild, one named Emmalya Serralund. It was also hinted that perhaps she was not following the "codes" of the church to the letter, and that if she showed signs of "straying", that Skandor was to make note of it and report it to his superiors at his earliest possible convenience. Skandor bowed and accepted the assignment obediently.

This is where he is…awaiting to be shown to his charge. He does not mind the idea of protecting one of the church's clerics: this was one of the paladin's jobs, afterall. But he did not like the idea of "spying" on her.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Skandor has grown well, to be much like his father. He stands well over 6' tall, and looks to fill that height. He is muscular and well-built. Not like "Arnold" or anything like that, but still, the years of training can be seen. He has short black hair, which is best described as "spiky". He is clean-shaven, no facial hair whatsoever. His eyes are deep green, perhaps some would say almost "glowing". His facial features are plain, but not unpleasant to look upon.

He wears a suit of chain mail on his torso and legs. He wears a steel helm, offering full head and protection for the eyes and nose, leaving his mouth clear and visible, and unobstructed for eating, drinking, or speaking. His tabard is proudly emblazoned with the symbol of his deity. He carries a backpack, and at his belt are two small pouches and the scabbard for a dagger and short sword. On his back he carries his two-handed sword. His holy symbol dangles on a silver chain at his neck.

MANNERISMS: Skandor is very soldier-like. He walks at attention, he sits at attention, he even sleeps at attention. He eats his meals in seconds. He keeps his person impeccably clean, well-groomed, and orderly. He is a vessel of war, a servant of Anhur. Jokes, laughing, crying, and other fits of emotion are not like him. He is not arrogant or mean. He is well-spoken, when he does speak. He takes time to ponder actions, and rarely does anything 'spur of the moment' or rashly.

He follows orders to the letter (so far!) and without fail. He highly respects all the churches, and all religions, even non-human ones. But he has no doubt that, as he has seen all his life, only war and conflict will ultimately settle disputes and shape the world in which he lives.

LAST UPDATED: (Text) 9/26/00

(Images) 10/8/00

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