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xxxxxx Thurgus Thornblade xxxxxx

The Wolf Forest had always been relatively peaceful, until many decades ago humanoid beasts began increasing their numbers. Soon orcs, goblins, and trolls started to destroy the unspoken peace in the forest. Divided, the inhabitants of the forest suffered the plight of these creatures. Hobbling villages were burned, elves forced out of the trees, and human travelers mangled by the roadsides.

A small group of Wood Elves, grew tired of fighting unsuccessfully united to form a militaristic tribe determined to once again free the Wolf Forest of evil manifestations. The tribe, called The Black Arrow, was founded by Turion Thornblade, his faithful battle companion Magnus Treeweaver, and elusive spellcaster who's name was always kept secret. For years, the Black Arrow recruited several individuals to help in their plight, and slowly over time the tribe increased in strength and began to push back the humanoid forces.

At first, the tribe attempted small ambushes and raids and as numbers grew, all out assaults upon encampments. Slowly overtime, orc warlords were hunted down, goblin shamans were killed, and bandits driven from the land. Eventually, the forest returned to its prior state of relative peace.

During one of my father's final raids against the orcs, my father had rescued a wood elven earth scholar named Calawyn Thornwood who he quickly fell in love with. A life bond soon followed, and then myself, Thurgus Thornblade.

During my early years, I spent in wonder of my father's many stories of battle and glory. I wanted to be just like him. So, he began to teach me everything his style of combat. Sword, shield, and dagger throwing, he said were the most efficient, anything else was worthless. I was lucky to have a father with such great experience teach me. We had countless sparring sessions and dagger throwing contests. I learned much about how to fight various humanoids and general familiarity of their behavior patterns. Soon, I began accompanying my father on patrols, and even fought in a few battles.

But, then as mother nature rises and falls a dark time came. From the east a strange breed of barbarians, and with their strength, humanoids and to our horror, undead began to repopulate and flourish again in the forest.

On one afternoon my father went out on a patrol, and did not come back that evening. Another patrol was sent, however that one did not return either. The Black Arrow began discussion of their next move, however I was too impatient to wait for them to reach a decision. That night, I left to find my father.

I saw a group of figures walking upon a trail towards the mountains, my father amongst them. As I approached my father with his keen awareness heard me. He turned and walked towards me as others in his group drew their weapons, beginning to surround me. A sinking feeling dropped hard into my belly. I asked my father if indeed it was he, and he responded commanding me to join him. Before I could react, and ask further questions, a swift blow to the back of my head knocked me out… darkness.
The last image in my head was my father's face, not his usual self, but twisted and distorted in a manner I have never seen before! What had happened?

When I awoke from consciousness, a new nightmare had begun. I felt a new joy in working for a being I later called Guorok. I worked in some sort of slave camp in the mountains doing blissful work unaware of the enslavement placed upon me. I saw Guorok do horrid things to others as was made to enjoy them: tear off limbs, replace them with others… combine orc flesh with elven and send it out into the world to cause chaos. Luckily, I was not so chosen as to be dismembered, however I do bear a tattoo upon left forearm… a circle with a line through it. Serves as a reminder of my extreme resentment and anger against anyone who uses a charm or enslavement upon me.

For 2 long years, I remained enslaved, until the Black Arrow had finally attempted a rescue. Little of which I can remember, due to my unnatural I anger at my own wood elven brethren for disrupting my master's work (due to the enslavement). After escaping, the healers removed my enslavement, and I wept for all the souls I saw tortured. Oh, the horror! I recall my father being equally upset like I had never seen before. He cursed out against Guorok and vowed revenge.

In the days following, my father planned and launched the next attack. I joined him, without hesitation and off we went to destroy Guorok and his dark minions. The combat was fierce, more than I had ever experienced before. My father had slain more than I had ever seen, and moved with such a speed I could only see a blur that I thought was him. Eventually, he engaged in combat with the accursed leader. I fought to get closer to see that they had begun exchanging blows. When I had gotten close enough to see, precisely what was happening, I saw my father cornered by Guorok. The shattered remains of his sword and shield were upon the ground my father's body singed from apparent fire damage. My father took one look at me, and yelled wildly charging swinging with only his fists. Guorok caught by his fist, twisted it around and snapped my father's arm, breaking it, resulting in a fall to the ground. Father looked at me, "Run Thurgus!" Father said faintly. Guorok then turned looked at me with his putrid eyes, grabbed my father's face and smashed my father's face into the rocks next to him. Horrified, I dropped my weapon, and feinted. I don't remember what happened after that.

I awoke later, in our encampment with several wounds left yet unhealed. My mother told me what had happened. She said the fight had been successful and thanks to Turion's bravery Guorok and his minions had been driven from the land. She told me father didn't resurect and would be honored for his bravery in this fight at his funeral. She explained the fight was over, however I refused to believe that.

Disgusted with the Black Arrows inability to track down Guorok, I left the Wolf Forest. If my father could not defeat Guorok then I must! I needed first, though to search and gain more training in order to defeat him. The first time, outside of the wolf forest, I found myself on a trail south to a town called Whitestone. A merchant told me it was a place where a lot of new adventurers and travelers were and I could find quite a variety of experiences.

Upon arriving in Whitestone in May of 601, I was appalled by the lack of knowledge and experience of various adventurers, however decided in the end that my lack of knowledge of different cultures, inhibited my judgment.
I forged some friendships with some humans, namely Duriel Tezar, whom befriended me from the start. I learned many human customs from him.

In June of 601, I became involved with a stone elf named Lain, who initially intrigued me due to the foreign culture and her appearing to be noble in her elven heritage. However, in later months her inability to resist being lured into a trap and her insanity (of which she put upon me once) convinced me never to end all relations, and never to trust female stone elves again. I also co-founded the Elven Order of Whitestone, and consolidated my position in the Blademasters.

In July of 601, I became Constable of Whitestone, amongst 2 others.

In August of 601, I left the Blademasters, to focus full time on Constableship. I also ventured home, and along with some old friends went to fight one of Guorok's creations: ½ ogre ½ elemental ice creature. It fell, but his minions escaped.

In September, of 601, I received word that my father's body had not resurrected, and had not permanently died. My mother told me of reports that my father's form had been "twisted" in some way, perhaps undead and was reported to be roaming around.

In October of 601, I traveled north to assist old Irongate with their relocation to Sain's peak, to create more alliances, and to join the Irongate adventuring academy to receive more combat training. I was pleased to have met, Elidore and Lincoln fine teachers and guides. Allister? Well, he'll just have to grow on me… creepy. Strange armor. I was told not to ask otherwise he gets reeeeally angry.

In November of 601, there are still no signs of my father. The sheriff has not seen anything, although there is a potent undead roaming about.

In December of 601, there are orcs gathering in increased numbers. Could this be related to the minions that destroyed my father?

In January of 602, I traveled again to newly Mandrake's landing. Fought many deadly foes, in the unending rain. Mythril golems, what a sight! I also acquired an apprentice by the name of Ash Roberts.

In Febrary of 602, I was assassinated by a band of brigands called the Black star. Perhaps, they are linked to Guorok and my father? Hellish is getting on my nerves… celebrating with orcs… marrying goblins in town… not punishing a dryad for assaulting my apprentice… irritating.

In April of 602, A chaos portal has now opened. Badira is a bad place. Blood talons are a shady ruthless bunch. We've been forced out of Whitestone.