From the writings of Lord Mordath de-Droka.
My name is Mordath de-Droka. Lord Mordath as I have come to be known.
I have been many things. I have a been a helpless child, brother to a murdered sister, son to a murdered mother. My name was Taren then, the name I had been given at birth. For many years I suffered under the harsh control of the murderer: My father. For sixteen years I suffered, not a day passed when I did not undergo mental or physical anguish.
I bore the pain. I made it a part of me. I learned to love it. I learned to never shed tears for that is what made the lash upon my back all the worse. I was weak then. I am weak no longer.
I murdered my father when I was sixteen. No hesitation. The sword he had hoped to forge had wielded itself and slew him. It was my first kill and I could not describe the joy I felt when my dagger thrust into his body.
I suppose my mother would have been shocked. My sister as well. I do not care. I fled my father's home that day and I learned the harsh nature of the world.
I became a petty thief. My dagger was my only friend. I would have lived and died upon the streets if not for one beast. His name was Visla.
I was caught robbing a weasel in the streets. His companion; a female ferret caught me and beat me. The weasel stopped her and drew his sword and held it over my head. In that moment I did one thing that changed my life forever
I smiled.
The smile gave the weasel pause. I saw that one half of his face was horrific and heavily scarred and burnt. I saw the ferocity of this beast. MY life was nothing to him. And then he asked me a question: 'Are you so eager to die, child?'
I continued smiling. The ferret pulled me up and the weasel inspected me. He asked the same question and I gave my answer.
'It hurts worse when I cried.if I smiled, they'd lose interest.'
The weasel smiled at this and nodded to the ferret-Sariss he called her.
'This one comes with us, Sariss.'
The ferret agreed. He seemed to respect the weasel. The weasel bought me a room in the inn he was staying, he bought me a good meal and he questioned me; Where I was from, why I was alone. I answered them truthfully.
The weasel became even more interested. He took me to a place where there were many creatures and put me in the command of a stoat named Mahk. The stoat taught me to fight with a sword. He taught me to use the dagger I held. Under his and Visla's tutelage I became more then Taren the thief. I was Taren the commander.
Killing was no object to me. Even when I was little I was never taught regard for another's life. Visla came to rely on me more. As a fighter, as a killer and as a guard.
I did not love Visla. I respected him certainly but I did not love him. He was a teacher and a mentor. If he died I would honor his memory but I wouldn't mourn him.
Never did I let Visla doubt me. Never did I give him reason to disappoint me.
I get ahead of myself.this story takes place when Taren died and Mordath de-Droka was born, when the Death watch and Visla died.
I am Mordath de-Droka and this is my story.
I have been many things. I have a been a helpless child, brother to a murdered sister, son to a murdered mother. My name was Taren then, the name I had been given at birth. For many years I suffered under the harsh control of the murderer: My father. For sixteen years I suffered, not a day passed when I did not undergo mental or physical anguish.
I bore the pain. I made it a part of me. I learned to love it. I learned to never shed tears for that is what made the lash upon my back all the worse. I was weak then. I am weak no longer.
I murdered my father when I was sixteen. No hesitation. The sword he had hoped to forge had wielded itself and slew him. It was my first kill and I could not describe the joy I felt when my dagger thrust into his body.
I suppose my mother would have been shocked. My sister as well. I do not care. I fled my father's home that day and I learned the harsh nature of the world.
I became a petty thief. My dagger was my only friend. I would have lived and died upon the streets if not for one beast. His name was Visla.
I was caught robbing a weasel in the streets. His companion; a female ferret caught me and beat me. The weasel stopped her and drew his sword and held it over my head. In that moment I did one thing that changed my life forever
I smiled.
The smile gave the weasel pause. I saw that one half of his face was horrific and heavily scarred and burnt. I saw the ferocity of this beast. MY life was nothing to him. And then he asked me a question: 'Are you so eager to die, child?'
I continued smiling. The ferret pulled me up and the weasel inspected me. He asked the same question and I gave my answer.
'It hurts worse when I cried.if I smiled, they'd lose interest.'
The weasel smiled at this and nodded to the ferret-Sariss he called her.
'This one comes with us, Sariss.'
The ferret agreed. He seemed to respect the weasel. The weasel bought me a room in the inn he was staying, he bought me a good meal and he questioned me; Where I was from, why I was alone. I answered them truthfully.
The weasel became even more interested. He took me to a place where there were many creatures and put me in the command of a stoat named Mahk. The stoat taught me to fight with a sword. He taught me to use the dagger I held. Under his and Visla's tutelage I became more then Taren the thief. I was Taren the commander.
Killing was no object to me. Even when I was little I was never taught regard for another's life. Visla came to rely on me more. As a fighter, as a killer and as a guard.
I did not love Visla. I respected him certainly but I did not love him. He was a teacher and a mentor. If he died I would honor his memory but I wouldn't mourn him.
Never did I let Visla doubt me. Never did I give him reason to disappoint me.
I get ahead of myself.this story takes place when Taren died and Mordath de-Droka was born, when the Death watch and Visla died.
I am Mordath de-Droka and this is my story.