Ian McAughe, Disciple of Lliira.
Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 8:22 am
Character name - Ian McAughe
Age - 18
Alignment - LN
Class - Monk
Goddess - Lliira (Goddess of Joy Dance and Festival)
Ian McAughe is a man not of this region, though it truly matters not, at least for him. A man with a smile always on his face, Ian seeks adventure and wealth, but more then that just a good time. He doesn't care if you are a drow, aasimar, paladin, or warlock, if you care to dance and sing and be merry, you fit along side him. Maybe he's a little eccentric, but he really does not seem to care.
-Prologue-
"But why?" Such a simply question as always that was uttered from the teen's lips.
"Because Ian, the wisdom, ritual, and justice of Kelemvor must be upheld, and that is our duty," boomed the voice of a man, pain and annoying apparent in his voice as he turned to his son.
"But I don't want to. I don't have to. Please don't make me..." A single tear rolled down the mature man’s face as he grabbed the torch from the Ian's hand and thrust it into the wooden pier. The wood smoked at first and then burst into flames, burning away the wood and oil, and the still body of a woman, laying finally in peace.
"I shouldn't have to do this." The whisper from Ian's lips was inaudible to anyone other than himself as he watched his mother's body was burned to ash and accepted into the realm of the dead...
Ian walked out of the temple, out of the town, and into the woods. There was never any compassion, no understanding. Eight months had gone by. The priests of Kelemvor deal with the dead daily, how could one of their own still be grieving so greatly. Couldn't he see that the problems of the world persisted? Couldn't he see that there was a time for grieving, and after that duty continued to exist.
So engrossed in his misery, Ian wandered longer and farther than he had planned. As he snapped out of his reverie and looked around, he noticed that he had no idea where he was. Woods surrounded him, and the only thing he heard was a laugh, light and full of joy. That laugh. It brought to Ian a light he had not felt in so long. He listened and tried to discern where it was coming from.
Following his ear, Ian stumbled alone in the forest until he fell upon an open grove. The laughter emanated from a beautiful woman, fully grown and dancing. The weaving of her feet so perfect as her body twisted and turned to some unheard melody. When Ian saw her, something clicked. He walked out, barely able to stammer out a hello.
The woman did not stop her dance, only turning her body to acknowledge this new presence in her domain. A large smile and a hand reaching out, inviting.
Ian walked forward awkwardly, and slowly raised his hand to accept the fair lady's offer. As soon as his hand touched hers, his feet moved on their own, and he felt an understanding of the dance, of the joy, of the pleasure of the world and life and this woman. And so he danced with her and danced and danced...
Ian awoke in the grove, alone and oddly at peace with himself. There was just something about the world now, something beautiful and wonderful. He knew that what he had experienced earlier was divine. The name Lliira just felt right when he thought it, though at this point he knew nothing more than that. He did not belong back in The Tower of Skulls. Now his life now belonged to a different cause, and so he took off to the east, not once looking back to where his family, his life, and his supposed destiny of the Sons of Kelemvor.
Living on the road with no money and no equipment was a lot harder then Ian originally thought, but nothing could have dropped his spirits. He was free and he was learning of the ways of Lliira through experience. The first test appeared in the small town of Rogetsville, in a tavern named The Halfway Inn. It was there where he truly started to learn how to survive.
Of course Ian was at that point dancing to a wonderful troupe of bards performing for the entire inn. He got too into it unfortunately, and lost himself in the moment. Not noticing what was happening; he accidentally spun around and knocked over a mug of ale onto a rather drunk and aggressive half-orc. The first punch nearly knocked Ian out cold, and the second off his feet. Ian knew that taking another hit from such a beast would leave him completely to the mercy of the brute. Instinctually Ian kept dancing, but instead of allowing the music to flow through his body and guide him, he turned his focus onto the half-orc towering over him. "Listening" to the flow of the brute’s actions, the slight twitch of the muscles implying the incoming punch, Ian danced around his subject, narrowly avoiding another hit from his partner in this dance of violence. Seeing an opportunity, Ian swung his foot out, connecting with the brute’s knee. Hearing a sickening crunch and snap, Ian whipped his other leg around and nailed the falling brute in the neck with his ankle.
There was a silence after. The music had stopped and the people had gone silent, amazed at what had just occurred. Even Ian did not fully know what had happened. He had just gone with the natural flow of his body, of the dance, of the way of Lliira, and with it he had defeated with no weapons or magics a man that was his weight and half again at least. It was a shame really, Ian never really wanted the violence, and would have much rather danced a jig with the half-orc then knock him out...
Ian peered over the hill he had climbed and looked down upon the coast, and a large city sitting up against it. There was just something about this 'Baldur's Gate'. Ian couldnt quite put his finger on it, but it was as if he finally found the place he had been looking for. Now it is only up to him to understand why he had been looking.
Age - 18
Alignment - LN
Class - Monk
Goddess - Lliira (Goddess of Joy Dance and Festival)
Ian McAughe is a man not of this region, though it truly matters not, at least for him. A man with a smile always on his face, Ian seeks adventure and wealth, but more then that just a good time. He doesn't care if you are a drow, aasimar, paladin, or warlock, if you care to dance and sing and be merry, you fit along side him. Maybe he's a little eccentric, but he really does not seem to care.
-Prologue-
"But why?" Such a simply question as always that was uttered from the teen's lips.
"Because Ian, the wisdom, ritual, and justice of Kelemvor must be upheld, and that is our duty," boomed the voice of a man, pain and annoying apparent in his voice as he turned to his son.
"But I don't want to. I don't have to. Please don't make me..." A single tear rolled down the mature man’s face as he grabbed the torch from the Ian's hand and thrust it into the wooden pier. The wood smoked at first and then burst into flames, burning away the wood and oil, and the still body of a woman, laying finally in peace.
"I shouldn't have to do this." The whisper from Ian's lips was inaudible to anyone other than himself as he watched his mother's body was burned to ash and accepted into the realm of the dead...
Ian walked out of the temple, out of the town, and into the woods. There was never any compassion, no understanding. Eight months had gone by. The priests of Kelemvor deal with the dead daily, how could one of their own still be grieving so greatly. Couldn't he see that the problems of the world persisted? Couldn't he see that there was a time for grieving, and after that duty continued to exist.
So engrossed in his misery, Ian wandered longer and farther than he had planned. As he snapped out of his reverie and looked around, he noticed that he had no idea where he was. Woods surrounded him, and the only thing he heard was a laugh, light and full of joy. That laugh. It brought to Ian a light he had not felt in so long. He listened and tried to discern where it was coming from.
Following his ear, Ian stumbled alone in the forest until he fell upon an open grove. The laughter emanated from a beautiful woman, fully grown and dancing. The weaving of her feet so perfect as her body twisted and turned to some unheard melody. When Ian saw her, something clicked. He walked out, barely able to stammer out a hello.
The woman did not stop her dance, only turning her body to acknowledge this new presence in her domain. A large smile and a hand reaching out, inviting.
Ian walked forward awkwardly, and slowly raised his hand to accept the fair lady's offer. As soon as his hand touched hers, his feet moved on their own, and he felt an understanding of the dance, of the joy, of the pleasure of the world and life and this woman. And so he danced with her and danced and danced...
Ian awoke in the grove, alone and oddly at peace with himself. There was just something about the world now, something beautiful and wonderful. He knew that what he had experienced earlier was divine. The name Lliira just felt right when he thought it, though at this point he knew nothing more than that. He did not belong back in The Tower of Skulls. Now his life now belonged to a different cause, and so he took off to the east, not once looking back to where his family, his life, and his supposed destiny of the Sons of Kelemvor.
Living on the road with no money and no equipment was a lot harder then Ian originally thought, but nothing could have dropped his spirits. He was free and he was learning of the ways of Lliira through experience. The first test appeared in the small town of Rogetsville, in a tavern named The Halfway Inn. It was there where he truly started to learn how to survive.
Of course Ian was at that point dancing to a wonderful troupe of bards performing for the entire inn. He got too into it unfortunately, and lost himself in the moment. Not noticing what was happening; he accidentally spun around and knocked over a mug of ale onto a rather drunk and aggressive half-orc. The first punch nearly knocked Ian out cold, and the second off his feet. Ian knew that taking another hit from such a beast would leave him completely to the mercy of the brute. Instinctually Ian kept dancing, but instead of allowing the music to flow through his body and guide him, he turned his focus onto the half-orc towering over him. "Listening" to the flow of the brute’s actions, the slight twitch of the muscles implying the incoming punch, Ian danced around his subject, narrowly avoiding another hit from his partner in this dance of violence. Seeing an opportunity, Ian swung his foot out, connecting with the brute’s knee. Hearing a sickening crunch and snap, Ian whipped his other leg around and nailed the falling brute in the neck with his ankle.
There was a silence after. The music had stopped and the people had gone silent, amazed at what had just occurred. Even Ian did not fully know what had happened. He had just gone with the natural flow of his body, of the dance, of the way of Lliira, and with it he had defeated with no weapons or magics a man that was his weight and half again at least. It was a shame really, Ian never really wanted the violence, and would have much rather danced a jig with the half-orc then knock him out...
Ian peered over the hill he had climbed and looked down upon the coast, and a large city sitting up against it. There was just something about this 'Baldur's Gate'. Ian couldnt quite put his finger on it, but it was as if he finally found the place he had been looking for. Now it is only up to him to understand why he had been looking.