IYW/Maerisan
From NexusCrossing
[edit] Background
Martrin was a denizen on the city. While he has never been one for law and order, he still has some spark of a patriotic spirit.
When he was a young boy Martrin lost his family in a fire and was left mostly to fend for himself. He spent the first several years after their death fending for himself in the slums, he was not the most outspoken child, so he was often pushed around and abused. This pattern continued for many years until one day he saw a friend being brutalized by one of the older and stronger members of the gang that he had taken up with. Something inside of him snapped and he released the brunt of his pent up anger and emotion on the attacker. It was months before he fully remembered what had happened that day.
Others told him that it was as if he had exploded, both figuratively and literally. He had taken a hold of the thug, and they both ignited. When his mind cleared and he was able to focus on the events of that day, it occurred to him that he was elven and such things were not unheard of. He had heard stories of great elven wizards, but those tales were always a little different, a little cleaner for one. Besides, he didn't have the stability or mental discipline to be a wizard. Wizards were stuffy old men that always smelled of strange chemicals.
Sorcerers did crop up from time to time among the Elves though. Even though their advanced society tended towards the more organized studies of magic, their innate magical tendencies could not always be buried beneath a mundane life style. It was something that was a part of him now. It was something he would have to learn to live with. He didn't see it that way.
He did his best to ignore the situation, but it only got worse. He would be able to control himself for a few months or even a few years at a time, but eventually the stress would build up and he would have what he thought of as an “episode,” which usually ended up with someone dead or severely injured. He didn't even want to think about the issue of property damage.
Eventually he heard that there was an old sage in the slums on the other side of town that could help people with his kind of problem. He went and visited the old man by the name or Eldrin. Eldrin's words still ring in his ears today:
- “You are a sorcerer boy. Deal with it. You have to embrace it, suppress it, or let it destroy you and who knows how many others around you.”
- “You mean, I can make it stop?” he had said with his eyes brightening. The old man just sighed, and dug around for an old bracelet he had in amongst his belongings.
- “Here, put this on,” he said handing it to him. “It will suppress your abilities. It's not permanent though, so you have to keep it on.”
The boy took what he was given and gladly ran with it, literally and figuratively.
That seemed to do the trick. The bracelet worked, or so he thought. For years he was able to keep from using his talents, except for when he felt things were so bad that he had to take it off in order to get out of a situation.
This worked until that fateful day when Sarah, a human girl from the slums that he had become engaged to, was killed. Then the bracelet could not hold back his anger or his wrath. There were few survivors. Almost an entire city block burned in the center of the slums, and no one ever found out officially how or why. It is not like the city guard actually cared once the flames were out.
Months passed before he was willing to even think about life again. When he did come out of his slump, he took the bracelet to a merchant in town that dealt in magical supplies. There he found that the bracelet was simply a piece of costume jewelry with a useless enchantment cast upon it to make it look magical to the casual observer. He tossed the bracelet on the old man's counter and left without a word.
From that point he spent several years visiting various libraries in the city delving into books on wizardry and the occult. Eventually he decided that wizardry just gave him a headache, and while the information he had been absorbing was passingly interesting, it was useless to him. That was when he came across Jacob, a human sorcerer who had come into the city looking for work.
Fortunately for Martrin, work was slim and now the guy was stuck in the slums much like everyone else, for a short while at least. The two had made friends quickly, and somehow managed to get work together escorting a trade caravan heading south. Martrin learned much as he traveled along side Jacob. The man had lived a life very similar to his, only in fast forward. He had come to terms fairly quickly with his abilities, and had taken some time to learn about them. Jacob and Martrin traveled together on various jobs for about ten years before Jacob was killed in an ambush.
Martrin was starting to see this as the story of his life. All of his friends eventually died. He had however over the years began to love the world around him. He enjoyed traveling to all the new places, and seeing hard to find places that most people never dreamed of.
When word came of the problems in his home city however, Martrin made his way home. It was time that he would go back to the place that had birthed him. He would protect what he had come to love.
He and the legions he served with fought long and hard defending the city, and eventually they were able to quell the dark tide of subterranean monsters and beings.
The enemy had been pushed back, but it would not last if they relaxed.
He continued to serve his countries military for a time, and quickly moved up in the ranks. Eventually his magical talents were notices and he was reassigned to focus on developing and using those talents.
During that time he broadened his understanding of magic, and even delved into the realms of wizardry. Wizards had always given him a headache, and they still did, but his own studies of wizardry allowed him to better understand how wizards could be put to use on the battle field and more importantly in the process of rebuilding cities that had been destroyed in battle.
Five hundred years he served in the protection of his lands, and as the years turned into decades, and decades turned into centuries, word of his name began to spread. He had led many men into battle, but had also stepped forward to settle impossible disputes without a drop of blood shed.
Eventually the stories started coming back with a new name. The name was basically the same as his, but the pronunciation wasn’t quite right. After about fifty years of hearing this other name for his works, he started hearing stories of Maersan (The name that his had evolved into over the decades) doing things that he would have liked to have done but had not. Events that were no longer real were becoming the stories of the bards.
This made him feel old. He was starting to become legendary in his old age. The image of the man was slowly vanishing, and something else was taking its place. He wished once again as he had a thousand times before that he was human. Humans were usually long dead by this point.
Eventually he did fade, but the memories of the people did not. Then one day in the darkness, he was pulled away from the dream world that had become his home in death, and he opened his eyes.
Things were different now, something was not right. In his ears he could hear the ringing of a thousand voices raised in song to a name that he somehow knew was his. Something was VERY wrong here.
As his eyes came into focus he could see the stars dotting the sky, and his ears were starting to hear more properly, and he realized he was hearing the prayers of people.
