Xavier

Might and Magic

Description:

Xavier stands as a tall and imposing figure, 6 and a half feet of bulk, wrapped in a cloak and an open personality. Intelligent eyes, surrounded by a dusting of tiny scales, peer from his dark brown face. His generous mouth is often split in a smile, displaying his sharp teeth. His finger nails have lengthened and fused with his fingers, giving him powerful claws that retain much of their dexterity. From this imposing figure comes a patient but strained voice, knowing his appearance may be unsettling, but determined not to be seen as a monster. He is determined to make his way through life by the strength of his words rather than his fists.

His fists are really strong though.

Bio:

What follows is an exerpt form a recovered report by Inquisitor Aquirius to his Majesty, High King Roderick the Light of Truth.

I swear every word is true, whether you are going to believe me or not. remains to be seen. anyhow.
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The day started out as any other. Woke at first light, cold breakfast, and out to check the traps. I hadnt been at it long when I got this prickling sensation like the hair on my arms was standing on end. Kind of that feeling that danger is around, but not a sign of anything funny. Now, I had just finished resetting a snare that had been fouled by some lucky critter that got away, stowed my gear in my sack and taken a step when I saw it.
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Now I know you won’t believe me, but seeing as how you are askin about it all, maybe you will. There was this rippling in the air, like when summer is baking us real good and it seems to twist the air. I heard the forest come to life around me and looked up as the birds left the trees, scattering to the winds. When I looked back down I saw some kind of movement. Well I took the hint and ducked behind a maple probably twice the size of you, laying up flat against it I listened real good. Thought I could hear a faint buzzing noise like some bees in the fields, but nothing else.
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It was the tinkling of bells that drew me back around the tree to see what it was. Not 5 steps from where I had been standing hung a dark hand holding a strange looking bow, looked like two sword blades instead of staves bent back from the hilt in the center. Slowly the hand and bow moved forward and the sting brought the rest of the arrow and the second hand drawing it back. A dark head, hood thrown back, appeared, swiveled briefly, and was followed by the rest of the man. He stopped a few steps into the small clearing and gave a trilling whistle, like no bird I had ever heard. His partner tumbled through, and crouched, taking everything in with piercing eyes.
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My breathe must have caught in my throat, because I couldnt help but cough. Both figures whirled, with that amazing bow and arrow unerringly trained on my location. But that was nothing compared to the glowing needle of a blade that seemed to emerge from the crouching ones hand!
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After a couple minutes we managed to talk through things and they promised not to kill me immediately. Considering all I had was my small shortbow and a hunting knife, I was happy with that. But I’ll tell you what, I swear, when he relaxed that bow of his swung up into itself and became a sword! Then casual as you like he sheathed it and came over to me, moving to shake my hand. He told me his name was Xavier and he was happy to practice talking to someone who had grown up speaking the local language. I swear he lost his odd accent by the time we had finished my rounds and made it back to my cabin. His partner was a she rather than the he I thought at first. Quite the looker even if she wasn’t human.
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_Xavier asked short questions and somehow kept me talking all the way. They stayed for much of the day, asking about the lay of the land, and hearing all I could recount of the going ons of the world, but the oddest question of them was where the thinkers would be. All I got from them was that they had come from far away, something about Lost Towers, and that they were searching for something or someone. I sketched a rough map of the area for them and by the end of the day, they had left. They had an air of danger about them, but they seemed to wish me no harm. I never did get the girl’s name. Strange looking those two, but then you see a lot of odd things out here, and so long as it is not some filthy Orc, and not out to eat me, it’s alright by me. _
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Now I hope those two havent gotten into any trouble, mister, and I wish them luck.

The following are relevant entries from journals and histories of Majeed Kurush, Journeyman Historian to the clan of the Lost Towers

I have returned this day from testing little Xavier, he still has not learned all the names of the plants on the plains and those which can be eaten, and those that should not be so. He is easily distracted. I have set him to haul more water from the stream and prepare me a bath tonight. Maybe his labors will tire him and he can settle his mind to the tasks at hand. At 10 cycles of the second sun, he has grown tall and has the look of his father about him. Xavier continues to grow stronger and faster, beating his sisters in their endless games and contests. His mind however is chaotic and clouded. He does not have the dedication and clarity to do more than open himself to another. Tomorrow I will en devour to…….
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I had to cuff Xavier today. That boy is too stubborn for his own good. I know it was one of his sisters who cut the holes in the rear of my favorite robe, but he is adamant it was him. No matter, he will learn better than to lie to his elders. He is even now carefully mending my tent, work that my old hands care little for. Next time it will….
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…..his mother caught him fighting today, soundly besting one of the clan warriors’ boys for some argument between them. When neither boy would recount the reason for their aggression, both were punished. Xavier was sent to work with the little ones, teaching them their letters and words when they can be made to sit for more than a moment, while the other boy was sent to the milk tent, to care for the newest members of the clan, cleaning, changing and feeding. I’m not sure which had a worse time of it, but neither will likely be found fighting again soon.
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Xavier’s uncle has returned to us from his Wanderings. He brings stories from many lands and the children follow him around in packs, listening to his every word, ignoring their lessons! He claims there is another way to imbue the Mindblade with power, but not from our inner psychik energies, instead he claims to use sorcery! He game the clan a demonstration, wreathing his mindblade in real flames as he struck the dummy. Nothing but show I tell you. There is one thing he has shown us that shows promise, if only I can determine how he does it. He teleported his opponent in a duel twenty feet away into the lake. He claims this too was through the use of his sorcery, maybe there is something to learn from his deranged mind. I shall ask the Chief if I may investigate further. At the least the matter bears further attention. Young Xavier has been shirking some of his duties to spend time with his Uncle, and I do not wish the boy to be corrupted by his madness. Surely there are tasks more fitting for him about camp, I could use a better writing desk and stool for one.
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Today my heart is broken. I am gravely disappointed in myself for not seeing the signs before now, early enough to maybe have done something! Anything! I thought nothing of the boy and his tendency to not practice shirtless as the others do, it was his shirt to mend after all. How distant he had become over the last cycle. But there is no disputing the matter now. I found him bathing in a spring distant from the others, and while I had expected to find him in the company of one of the girls who had been showing an interest in him, I did not. But I was not prepared for the glistening scales across his back and chest, iridescent in the bubbling water. I could not bear to approach and so slunk away like a coward. The Curse! The Blood of Dragons will take him from us. How will I tell the Chief of this?!
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He has abandoned my teachings for that of his Uncle. His betrayal forces me to see my own, for I have not told the Chief what I know of young Xavier. I cannot bear the pain it would bring him. And so I watch from afar, trying to distance myself. I must meditate and look to the younlings. One of them will be worthy of my lessons. For Xavier there is nothing I can do. His life is in his own hands.
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Something has happened. There is a rift between Xavier and his father. I fear his secret may now be known. I am not sure if I fear more for what will come of young Xavier or the wrath that may come down upon me. I should burn this journal. I may not save Xavier from his future, but i can save myself.

Xavier

The Shattered Lands grmunky