Myharl (prime): Difference between revisions

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Myharl was allowed by the tribe elders to attend the funeral pyres, and afterwards he accepted the small clay jars in which each of his family members ashes had been gathered, along with two more holding the remains of the Ishans. The contingent of hunters guarding him ushered him to his family’s tent, and with watchful eyes they observed closely as he prepared to depart. He felt a maelstrom of rage and sorrow swelling within, prompted by the sudden detached indifference towards him bestowed by those who had always been in his memories. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. Entering the beit al-sha'r, he gathered the sparse belongings from within. Among them, his father’s jambiya which he secured at his side next to his own. Also, an assortment of travel gear, preserved goat’s cheese, and several waterskins filled by his mother the day before from the shallow sandstone well at the encampment.
Myharl was allowed by the tribe elders to attend the funeral pyres, and afterwards he accepted the small clay jars in which each of his family members ashes had been gathered, along with two more holding the remains of the Ishans. The contingent of hunters guarding him ushered him to his family’s tent, and with watchful eyes they observed closely as he prepared to depart. He felt a maelstrom of rage and sorrow swelling within, prompted by the sudden detached indifference towards him bestowed by those who had always been in his memories. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. Entering the beit al-sha'r, he gathered the sparse belongings from within. Among them, his father’s jambiya which he secured at his side next to his own. Also, an assortment of travel gear, preserved goat’s cheese, and several waterskins filled by his mother the day before from the shallow sandstone well at the encampment.
After dismantling the tent and neatly folding its black fabric into a parcel, he harnessed his father’s ebony wastesdrgon and laden it with the hefty pile. Snugly tucking the funerary jars and veil iron ark within the goat fleece fabric, he briskly mounted the lizard and yanked the reins, yawing the beast so its scaly tail dramatically feinted those gathered. Without further words, he slowly rode his way through the encampment, away from his home, and into the eastward barrens—towards Kilanirij.
After dismantling the tent and neatly folding its black fabric into a parcel, he harnessed his father’s ebony wastesdrgon and laden it with the hefty pile. Snugly tucking the funerary jars and veil iron ark within the goat fleece fabric, he then briskly mounted the lizard and yanked the reins, yawing the beast so its scaly tail dramatically feinted those gathered. Without further words, he slowly rode his way through the encampment, away from his home, and into the eastward barrens—towards Kilanirij.


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Revision as of 14:12, 8 December 2022

Myharl Gryphonwind
MYHARL GSIV WIKI PORTRAIT.JPG
The Dark Tower
Race Giantman
Hometown Wehnimer's Landing (adult), Southron Wastes Nomad (childhood)
Class Wyrm Slayer
Profession Warrior
Religion Koar (the Sleeping Drake), Kor'thriss, and Voln
Affiliation(s) Master at Arms of the Warrior Guild, Master in the Order of Voln, Member of House of the Rising Phoenix
In-a-Word Large
Disposition Friendly, though reserved and quick to anger
Demeanor Bloodthirsty (particularly towards wyrms and the undead)
Primary Trait Exceptionally tall (10' 5"), Kroderine Soul
Secondary Trait Gets in the way a lot
Flaw Propensity to be a loner
Greatest Strength Berserking
Greatest Weakness Berserking
Habits Frequent whiskey and occasional pipe-weed
Hobbies Master crafter, master forger (all weapon types), sheath maker, shop owner [Gryphonwind Ventures], and avid wyrm hunter
Soft Spots His wives
Likes Testing his mettle
Dislikes Dishonesty, crowded rooms
Fears Dishonor to himself
Loyalties Lorminstra (by way of Voln)
Best Friend Too many to list
Spouse Ladies Aurla, Psyryn, Yterria, and Yieshia
Children None
CHE and MHO Membership
CHE House of the Rising Phoenix
House of the rising phoenix.jpg
MHO Affiliations House Daingneach Onoir (Resigned 5111)
Greater Elanthian Merchant Society

Editor Note (December 3, 2022): Having only recently discovered that player characters can have wiki pages, this is a work in progress that I intend to complete in the coming weeks before the new year as I pore over decades of logs for details, names, and dates and flesh out my character's backstory and history in the game.  
— Player of Myharl

Appearance

You see Grand Lord Myharl Gryphonwind the Dark Tower.
He appears to be a Giantman.
He is of an extraordinary height, even for a giant.  He appears to be an adult.  He has darkly rimmed, piercing black eyes and deeply coffee-hued skin.  He has a bald head.  He has a well-defined face, a broad and strong nose and a sloe black silver-touched beard pinioned into a single elaborate braid by a dark wyrm's-eye aetherstone.  His features have a firm, statue-like quality to them.
He has a set of five lustrous onyx rings in his left eyebrow, a fiery crimson tattoo of a dragon's talon on his face descending from beneath his left eye, and a small dark shard-shaped mark on his neck.
He gives off a bloodthirsty demeanor.
He is in good shape.
He is wearing a hooded undansormr scale cloak lined with floccose niveous warg fur, a silver wyrm claw pendant on a dark cord, a radiant phoenix down mantle clasped by a jacinthe-flamed arathiel jewel, a slit-visored black alloy helm, a mesh black alloy aventail, a side-swept crimson sagum cloak bearing the Warrior Guild Master at Arms crest, a securely buckled armor harness crafted of rugged leather over a full suit of black alloy platemail with a thick arming coat fashioned from layers of hinterboar hide underneath, a pair of black alloy vambraces, some undansormr scale gauntlets, a hip-slung palladium-edged weapon-belt with a glowing white sacred warsword hanging from it, a sturdy ko'nag case, a shaggy dark hinterboar hide satchel, a pair of black alloy leg greaves, a pair of ash-framed snowshoes under some cord-bound hinterboar hide boots hitched with rugged ice cleats, an oversized scuffed leather backpack with a rope-secured bedroll, a length of silk climbing rope securely knotted to a three-tined grappling hook, and a krodera-bound black alloy tower shield slung over his shoulder.
Quote: Myharl scowls while grumbling something about too many wives and not enough silver in a barely understandable mishmash of the common and giantman languages.

Notable Achievements

Wyrm Slaying


Battles


Victories


Politics


Guilds, Societies & Trained Skills

Pictured: Myharl Gryphonwind in 5114 of the Modern Era, then decked in golvern platemail, locked in battle with an invading demon as Wehnimer's Landing is engulfed in flames around him.

Primary Gear & Equipment

Myharl invests primarily into a single set of gear that includes his glowing white sacred warsword "Forlorn Maiden" and His black alloy armor set. While he does purchase other non-combat equipment from time-to-time, the bulk of his fortune is spent to further improvements for this, his 'end-game' set of combat gear. The following list will be maintained and updated as improvements are made.


A Glowing White Sacred Warsword — 10x (+50), T5 Ensorcell, S6 Sancitfy with Holy Fire, GEF + Unique Custom Fire Flares, HCW/HDW, Unlocked Lore, Perfect-forged, Max Light, Holy Bastard Sword crafted of mithril w/ Legacy Permabless +5 against undead, named "Forlorn Maiden" [1,017 difficulty] Includes matching 'Incorporeal Forlorn Woman' legendary spirit beast. Wielded with Weapon Bonding and Tainted Bond.


Full Suit of Black Alloy Platemail — 7x (+33), T5 Ensorcell, S4 Sanctify, Unbalance Flares, Spiked, VHDP/HCP, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Full Plate crafted of black alloy w/ 5% Resistances against Crush/Slash/Puncture, +3 Health/Stamina Recovery enhancives [782 difficulty]


Krodera-Bound Black Alloy Tower Shield — 10x (+50), T5 Ensorcell, S1 Sanctify, Fire Flares, Spiked, Fully Unlocked T2 Harnessed, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Tower Shield crafted of black alloy; bears the glyphed coat of arms of the House of the Rising Phoenix [626 difficulty]


Black Alloy Vambraces — Fully Unlocked T4 Brutal/Cunning Fancy Greaves (Switchable Lightning Flares/Fire Flares/Plasma Flares) with Ghost Flare Messaging, Spiked, HDP/HCP, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Arm Greaves crafted of black alloy w/ +10 CON enhancive upgraded to innumerable charges. [282 difficulty] Can hold/equip/sheath two daggers.


Slit-Visored Black Alloy HelmAnfelt Armor Zested, Acid Flares, Spiked, FDP/SCP, Unlocked Lore, Maxlight Helm crafted of black alloy w/ +8 STR enhancive with a lot of charges. [61 difficulty]


Mesh Black Alloy AventailAcid Flares, Spiked, LDP/LCP, Unlocked Lore, Maxlight Aventail crafted of black alloy w/ +6 AGL/+7 Max Stamina enhancives with a huge number of charges. [14 difficulty]


Pair of Black Alloy Leg GreavesAcid Flares, Spiked, Unlocked Lore, Maxlight Leg Greaves crafted of black alloy w/ +11 DEX/+8 Harness Power Bonus enhancives with a lot of charges. [18 difficulty]


Other Notable Items & Gear

Radiant Phoenix Down Mantle Clasped by a Jacinthe-Flamed Arathiel Jewel — Holds Very Large Amount, Can be Tucked, Closes, Ethereal Flames Illusion Prop (Worn as a pin, functional)


Hooded Undansormr Scale Cloak Lined With Floccose Niveous Warg Fur — Feature Concealing Hooded Cloak, Closes, Epic Deepened to Hold Gigantic Amount (Worn over the shoulders, functional)


Sweeping Krodera-Bound Pauldrons Adorned With Ki-lin Horn Spikes — +7 DIS enhancive, persists, huge number of charges (Worn as a pin, functional)


Twisted Widowwood Band Grasping A Glowing Madstone — +6 CON enhancive, persists, huge number of charges (Worn on fingers, functional)


Sparkling Balenite Ring Crowned With A Wintry Everfrost Shard — +7 DEX enhancive, persists, huge number of charges (Worn on fingers, functional)


About the Dark Tower: General Info & Life Summary

Pictured: Myharl in the company of his wives at his Wehnimer's Landing shop, Gryphonwind Ventures. From left to right: Grand Lady Psyryn, Myharl, Grand Lady Yterria (seated), Lady Yieshia (kneeling), and Renowned Lady Aurla.

Myharl is a berserker and noted wyrm slayer who frequently hunts beyond the Long Snow in the Hinterwilds near Cold River village, a place he considers a second home. When not braving the wintry wilds, he can usually be found either warming himself by the hearthfire in Rawknuckle's Pipe Den or taking refuge from the frigid galewinds beneath the ancient pine tree in the village center. He is frequently in the company of Kestrel, the village lookout, as the two share many late night watches together. When outdoors in the Hinterwilds, his eyes are often scanning the aurora-illuminated skies as he awaits sighting a wyrm aloft over the Angargreft or Boreal Forest locales.

He is also a citizen of Wehnimer’s Landing where he is known as a bounty hunter for hire and long-time merchant. He is the proprietor of Gryphonwind Ventures (established in 5110 of the Modern Era) [External link: Shop Listing ] which is located at the entrance to the Wehnimer’s Landing shopping district. He is a registered guild master and Master-at-Arms of the Wehnimer’s Landing Warrior Guild, a master in the Order of Voln, and member of the House of the Rising Phoenix. His moniker, "The Dark Tower" originated as a nickname from his years training at the Warrior Guild. The name began as a playful jest about his unusual height, but later—through trials and tribulations with his brethren—became a title of honor and respect.

He was born in the hour of Ronan on Tilamaires, Eorgaen 18th in the year 5079 of the Modern Era, the youngest of three children and the only son of giantman nomads Lokran (father) and Maeralea (mother). His eldest sister disappeared before his birth (lost in a sandstorm and presumed dead). His other sister and parents were all killed in 5097 when his tribe's encampment was attacked by wyrms. His name is an amalgamous play on multiple giantkin words which can be roughly understood as "gift of the feast" and was bestowed upon him in celebration of the massive white sandworm the tribe hunters, including his father, fell on the day before his birth.

Family names are not a tradition practiced by his tribe, yet are often necessary for business matters in the Empire and its holdings and frontier outposts. Gryphonwind is the name of a long-ago friend who sacrificed her own life to save his. The name was adopted by Myharl as his surname to honor her memory.

Myharl’s appearance is noticeably different from most other giantkin whose clans and tribes have been long-established in the regions surrounding the northern reaches of the Dragonspine Mountains. He is unusually tall (towering well over ten feet) and bears deeply ebon-hued skin. This appearance, while atypical for highmen in Northern Elanith, is common among members of his tribe.

He migrated to the northern frontiers during the third decade of his life, but hails originally from deep within the desolate barrens of the Southron Wastes. Nomadic like most giantkin tribes, his family was one of many comprising a wandering desert tribe of highmen that have traversed the wastelands for countless generations. His journey as an adventurer began when he was exiled from his tribe after inadvertently activating an ancient and mysterious artifact he refers to as the Eye of the Drake.

The clanless tribe bears no name, but the elders profess that they are the descendants of survivors from a once magnificent giantkin kingdom far to the north. A nation that fell in ancient times during a war against a great evil. Their predecessors, forced from their homeland and driven south, adopted the practice of unending migration in lieu of founding another homestead. Though unsure whether the story of the tribe's ancestral origin has merit or is nothing more than fanciful folklore, later in life Myharl did find what appears to be the remnants of just such an ancient highman kingdom. Located deep in Stoneharrow Swale between the port city of Solhaven and the frontier surrounding Wehnimer’s Landing, within the ruins is even the visage of crowned giantkin king worked into stone. He sometimes wonders if this place could be the forgotten lands mentioned in the myths of his former kin.

In his early twenties, during the years immediately proceeding exile from his tribe, Myharl found work with an Issimr merchant caravan which plied their trade by transporting goods across the wastes between the Grot'karesh fortress city of Kilanirij and the Turamzzyrian Empire. Frequent visits to Elstreth and Idolone, as well as the occasional long haul to the grand city Tamzyrr, slowly introduced him to the common cultures of North-Western Elanith. His interest and curiosity about those cultures would grow until he eventually parted ways with his Issimr friends to explore the northern bounds of the Empire for himself.

Relationships & Marriage

Krodera Quartet Wedding Band (Cathedral Wedding Ring)

At intervals throughout his life Myharl has courted various women, but the only past love-interst he still speaks fondly of is Lunaryna with whom he shared a brief—though fiery—relationship soon after his arrival to the frontier. However, his travels across the Empire and northern wilds frequently interfered with establishing long-lasting intimate relationships. It was not until the fourth decade of his life, after deciding to make Wehnimer’s Landing his home and base of opperations, that he discovered the opportunity to establish more permanent companionship. He is married to a quartet of dark elf sisters who bear estranged, rarely discussed, ties to Faendryl nobility. Of the four, the eldest sister is Renowned Lady Aurla (Magess of the Flame), followed by Grand Lady Psyryn (Master Healer), then Grand Lady Yterria (High Priestess of Koar), and lastly the youngest of the four, Lady Yieshia, who Myharl affectionately refers to as his "little magess". Upon marrying into dark elf nobility he donned the title Grand Lord.

Part I: Acquisition of the Eye & The Journey Begins (5097 Modern Era)

Pictured: The Eye of the Drake, an artifact in possession of Myharl Gryphonwind
Eye of the Drake

a shadowy crystal ball containing a mysteriously shifting eye blazing with an unknown power

Myharl's tribe were not the only highmen who made the wasteslands their home. Another, more ancient group of giantkin migrants were those who the tribe elders called, "the cursed." They had arrived in the Southron Wastes likely thousands of years earlier. The tribe's migration routes always steered clear of the mountain stronghold of their clan. A dark place called Kilanirij. For the most part the cursed had likewise avoided the tribe, seeming more interested in maintaining their fortress city than the activities of nomadic goat-herding peoples eking out a living from the harsh lands. That was until one day, a cafila of three cursed approached the tribe's encampment at sundown.

The three strangers spoke in a strange mesh of the Gaintkin language and another tongue foreign but very similar-sounding to Elvish. They referred to themselves as Ishan; travelers on a quest seeking to solve some ancient mystery. The Ishan called their paths crossing with the tribe's caravan, "a destiny".
The tribe elders were wary of the Ishan, but believing that all giantkin share an ancient lineage, they still cautiously invited them to rest by the evening fires and offered them hospitality of food and water. Of the three, one was an older man with deep scars indicative of many battles, another a younger man who seemed more learned than his company, and the last a young woman with an otherworldly air about her. It was the third who piqued the interest of young Myharl. She was several years his elder, yet still the youngest of the three. He found her form appealing and her forbidden moniker intoxicatingly unique. The interest of youth appealed for him to get closer to her, and so as the three Ishan sat around the warmth of the fires speaking to the elders, he lingered.
The eldest recovered an object securely wrapped in layers of canvas from their belongings as the younger man regaled the elders with a tale about ancient evils from the past reawakening. They were seeking a way to unlock an ancient puzzle. The old man unwrapped the object to reveal a veil iron ark crowned by a pair ornamental gold dragons, and the younger of the two pointed to six golden seals around the ark's lid explaining how no method or magic had been able to penetrate the box or remove its locks. They believed that within was a powerful artifact that could be used to fight a coming evil, and their quest was to find a way to free it from its prison.

Click here to continue reading this section...

As the two men continued engaging the elders with stories about ancient wars and forgotten times, the female Ishan took notice of Myharl's presence and seemed to immediately recognize his interest in her. She smiled softly, motioning him closer. He complied, and the two began a friendly conversation. She introduced herself as Gryphonwind, and explained she was a seer and diviner of the future sent to aid her fellow travelers. As Myharl and Gryphonwind shared food and drink, the legends and myths she told him summoned an even greater curiosity from within. Devoid of awkward banter, the demeanor of the conversation seemed as if the two were longtime friends.
As the evening grew late, just as Myharl had worked up enough courage to invite her to spend the night with him, she abruptly interrupted to ask if she could divine his future. Tilted by the offer, he drew closer to sit at her side and agreed. She reached for a small woven basket worn at her hip and pulled out and handful of polished dark stones. Each was carved with a strange rune. She cast stones upon the sand at their feet. As the stones landed, Gryphonwind gasped before her breaths became near silent. Eight of the nine stones had landed with their runes facing downward in the sand, the ninth and solely visible rune bore a symbol that vaguely resembled a landslide.
As she stared at the stone, it began to violently twitch as if taking on a life of its own. Suddenly, it began to draw a line in the sand as it danced its way towards Myharl. Glancing up to notice the look of abject horror marring Gryphonwinds visage, he leapt to his feet. The stone continued towards him across the sand, and he began stepping backwards. As he withdraw the stone gave chase wobbling frantically across the sand. Now frightened as well as startled, Myharl quickened his pace in reverse until accidentally stumbling into the older Ishan. The obstacle sending Myharl sprawling backwards as he fell over the seated man. In a bid to right himself, Myharl grasped for leverage. The stone stopped moving the moment his hand landed squarely on the ark. Quickly removing his hand from the artifact, its seals loudly popped open one after the other.
The stars seemd to vanish from the night sky as an unnatural shadowy black fog sped across the landscape to envelope the encampment. Tendrils of shadow seemed to grope and caress every surface accompanied by the sound of incoherent whispering voices. Then came an ear-ringing bestial roar so loud it seemed to shake the ground itself. Several massive winged draconic figures soared low overhead, their forms discernable only as their metallic scales reflected the carmine firelight below. A contrasting moment of silence followed until overpowered by a growing cacophony of anguished screams. Seized by terror and unable to move Myharl watched as the beasts plowed through the gathered crowd of his tribesmen. Their massive razor talons shredding flesh and stripping bone as they belched caustic fluids that washed away skin and flesh in an instant. Many of the giantkin drew their weapons, fighting back against the beasts, but others seemed statuesquely motionless, as if frozen in time.
Gryphonwind cried out Myharl's name, which seemed to shake him from the unnatural paralysis binding him. She shouted, instructing him to open the ark. As he moved towards the artifact, one of the beasts shifted its stride and charged toward him. Rearing back to raise its fierce talons before striking, Myharl helplessly stared at the wyrm sure that those were to be his final moments. They would have been, but with jarring impact, Gryphonwind's body slammed into his as she threw herself atop him like a shield. Pulling her weight away from him and rising again to her feet, she desperately pointed at the ark. In response, Myharl quickly crawled across the sand until his hands rest on each side of the unsealed vessel.
He strained to pry open the tightly closed lid, and his eyes shifted again to Gryphonwind just as a silvery talon violently burst through her abdomen from behind. The beast roared again, masking the words she screamed as blood erupted from her lips. The lid gave way and the ark was opened. A blinding flash of light from within the artifact pierced through the darkness. The beasts roars suddenly became high-pitched screeches as they withdrew back towards the shadowy fog. As the light spread across the encampment Myharl's last sight of Gryphonwind was life's light fleeting form her eyes as her impaled corpse was wrent into the evaporating darkness.
Instinctively reaching into the ark, Myharl pulled forth the fiery glowing orb from within. An otherworldly flame-filled eye gazed out from within the crystalline sphere. Clutching the ball tightly, Myharl raised it high as he screamed out her name.
The sensation of a thousand infernos wracked across his body as the beasts continued to shriek. Seeing dozens of bodies littering the blood soaked sands around him, Myharl turned his eyes to the orb. His gaze locked involuntarily with the fiery eye within and the violence around him faded into absolute darkness and silence. There was only the eye. It seemed to gaze into his very soul as an overwhelming rage welled within. A feeling of anger and righteousness. He was aware of nothing else except the fiery red glow of the eye. However, soon he realized that he was not alone, and as the eye shifted, it illuminated the massive golden figure that bore it. A great gold dragon, much like the beasts from the shadows, but enormous and surrounded by a glow in a hue of gold Myharl had never before seen.
For what simultaneously felt like an instant and like eons, the golden figure observed Myharl. Then it commandingly uttered a single word. A word beyond comprehension. Reality returned in an instant to Myharl's awareness just as an explosion of luminous golden thunder pulsed from the orb, the distortions of light eradicating both the shadows and the vicious wyrms.
Myharl fell unconscious. When he awoke, he found himself still holding the eye, but surrounding by the warm glow of the campfire and the deep indigo of the star-filled night sky. The threat was gone, but the roars and shrieks had been replaced with the sounds of crying and pain-filled moans. He placed the eye back in to the ark, and weakly slid its heavy lid securely back on top. Among the dead nearby were the two male Ishan and a dozen of his tribe. Many more were grievously wounded. Gryphonwind's body was nowhere to be seen.
As the sun's light kissed the eastern skies and the last of the wounded had been tended to, those that had seen the events that transpired kept a wide birth from Myharl. He was confused by the look of fear in the eyes of his kin. Fear of him. They formed a circle around him, as if guarding a prisoner. Hushed whispers crawled through the crowd. The last of the slain were being wrapped in shrouds when the tribe elders finally approached. They were grim and hesitant.
Proceeding a long silence, they finally elaborated; after discussing it with the tribe, they had all decided that whatever evil curse was lain upon the people of the Ishan visitors had now been cast upon him. It was no longer safe for him to be among his kin. He was a danger. With hurtful disdain they exiled Myharl and demanded he return the artifact to Kilanirij and never again return to the tribe.
Realizing there was no way to convince them otherwise, Myharl beseeched the elders to be allowed to bid his family farwell. Enclosed by a circle of warriors, he was escorted to the blood-soaked mass of shroud-wrapped bodies. As his tear-filled gaze wandered across the pile, someone in the crowd angrily quipped, "You no longer have any family here. Take your curse and be gone!"

Part II: Visions at Kilanirij & Travels to the North (5097-5104 Modern Era)

Myharl was allowed by the tribe elders to attend the funeral pyres, and afterwards he accepted the small clay jars in which each of his family members ashes had been gathered, along with two more holding the remains of the Ishans. The contingent of hunters guarding him ushered him to his family’s tent, and with watchful eyes they observed closely as he prepared to depart. He felt a maelstrom of rage and sorrow swelling within, prompted by the sudden detached indifference towards him bestowed by those who had always been in his memories. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. Entering the beit al-sha'r, he gathered the sparse belongings from within. Among them, his father’s jambiya which he secured at his side next to his own. Also, an assortment of travel gear, preserved goat’s cheese, and several waterskins filled by his mother the day before from the shallow sandstone well at the encampment.

After dismantling the tent and neatly folding its black fabric into a parcel, he harnessed his father’s ebony wastesdrgon and laden it with the hefty pile. Snugly tucking the funerary jars and veil iron ark within the goat fleece fabric, he then briskly mounted the lizard and yanked the reins, yawing the beast so its scaly tail dramatically feinted those gathered. Without further words, he slowly rode his way through the encampment, away from his home, and into the eastward barrens—towards Kilanirij.

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Part III: The Great Empire & Finding the Drake (5104-5109 Modern Era)

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Part IV: A New Home & Settling In (5109-5122 Modern Era)

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Part V: A Call to Quest & Vengeance Fulfilled (5122-Current Modern Era)