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I am Dragonbane, and I am not a dragon slayer. I am the Dragon Sage. To dispel any misguided ideas you may have, I will tell you the story of how I came to named. I was born Dargon Jael to an elven mother and father of no remarkable stature. I was raised among my kin in a typical High Elf enclave several months' journey to the south. In fact my only traits of any wont were my affinity for wildlife and phenomenal skill with a bow, even by elven standards. No doubt every Elf in history has had some tie to Nature, but what made mine special was my singular ability to commune with said wildlife: to understand thoughts and enforce my will on Nature's own. I was as apparently destined to be a Ranger as any, and in that prospect I set out to seek my destiny. I spent many years exploring the wilderness under the tutelage of a somewhat renegade shaman known as Oryn. He was a veritable wellspring of knowledge and with his help I grew to become a wise and well-traveled Ranger in my own right, keen to the mysteries of the lands. It was not until several years after I had left Oryn that I began to distinguish myself. I joined the guild of the Rangers, and there apprenticed myself to a mentor named Maven. Few could claim to possess his unfathomable intimacy with the land; little was beyond his realm of understanding, and even less was beyond his ability to unearth. When I joined with Maven I was but an unfinished, unpolished mess of potential. Leaving him, I was a well-forged and tempered Ranger. His teachings would prove invaluable in the conflict to come. I have only to speak of Oligar, the Dark Elf Lord, and many can conjur memories of the horrors that befell the Rangers at his hand. And so it was on one particularly dark night... Most of the Ranger had turned in for the evening, but a scattering of candles still burned in the Redwood and the dying sound of dull laughter still resonated from the taproom. I sat alone in the blind, staring sleepily at the stars as I did on many nights when sleep eluded me. Finding no serenity in the heavens that night, I gathered my cloak about me and descended the Redwood to the forest floor below and began to wander the lonely woods. Before I had wandered far, I caught a whisper on the breeze: danger. Sleep's haze departed my thoughts in an instant and I sunk into the shadows like smoke. No sooner had I hidden than several wraithlike figures crept carefully by, likewise clinging to the darkness. Their stealthy advance made it difficult to discern their identities, but the terrible realization dawned on me all at once: drow! And drow in the Rangers' wood could mean only one thing - invasion. And here is where the story takes a curious twist. You see rather than succumb to the icy tendrils of terror welling in the pit of my stomach, a strange enveloping calm washed over me. I knew there wasn't time to forewarn the Guild, the advance moved too quickly. Curiously, the panicked urge to flee dissolved and a steely sense of resolve formed in its place. Soundlessly, I alighted to the canopy and took note of the size of the drow force. My spirits sank at the sight of over five score drow, rife with arms and magic. The drow war machine was naught but a league from the Redwood now, and the situation seemed all but hopeless. And then it happened. The spirits of a hundred fallen Rangers overwhelmed me, their fury coursing through my veins. My mind buzzed with their outraged cries and my vision blurred an angry red. Soundlessly I drew my bow and loosed a torrent of deadly arrows upon the unsuspecting drow. My possession afforded me a clarity of mind and body no mortal has ever known. In an instant I was amongst them, swords drawn, a whirlwind of inhuman destruction. I moved with unnatural swiftness, my reflexes honed sharper than the warblade of Zir. Twenty drow warriors fell to my assault before the first alarm was raised, and by then I was lost once more to the darkness. Like a predatory shadow I circled and wove my way around and through the drow. Bow, sword, body and mind fused to become a single entity bereft of human thought and emotion and focused solely on pure, unequivocal retribution. In seconds the forest erupted in utter bedlam. Drow spun in circles, searching hopelessly for the beseiging battalion. In minutes the drow army was routed, dead or fleeing into the night. Only their captain remained, struggling to get their supply train turned around. I emerged from the shadows and announced myself; the drow turned in horror at the blood-soaked effigy before him. I spoke in a thundering voice that was not my own, "Blood has begotten blood. The persecution your dark people has inflicted upon this forest will not stand. Death to the enemies of the Redwood!" The captain gave a last look to the deserted caravan, and looked back to find me gone - lost to the night. I returned later to the guild, exhausted beyond all mortal comprehension. For three days I lay unconscious, drifting in that lucid state between sleep and consciousness. On the third day, a vision of the Spiritual Stag confronted me. It did not applaud my efforts, nor thank me for my service. It bade me only: "Awaken Dargon, Bane of the Black Horde". And in time I, Dargon Jael, Bane of the Black Horde, came to be known simply as Dragonbane. |
Date Joined: Current Status: Mentor's Name: Mentor Pgm. Graduate? Ironwood Ranger Bow Award: Guild Team(s) Joined: Gold Leaf Patch Award: Giant Falcon Award: Ring of the Redwood Award: Taken Period of Solitude? Guild Offices Held: |