Myharl (prime): Difference between revisions

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== Notable Achievements ==
== Wyrm Slaying ==
'''Wyrm Slaying<br>'''
''First wyrm slain on Restday the 30th of Jastatos, 5122''
''First wyrm slain on Restday the 30th of Jastatos, 5122''
<br/>
<br/>
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Signed, The TownCrier Team
Signed, The TownCrier Team
</pre>
</pre>

----
'''Leafiara's song about Cold River, a Revelia Carnivale performance'''

<pre{{log2}}>
OOC Note: After having spent most of a year establishing Myharl as wyrmslayer and pushing to get the community more interested in being involved in "the hunt" for them and leading many dozens of groups to slay wyrms, I had been feeling a bit disappointed having had my requested premium pre-name title "Wyrmslayer" denied for Myharl on the grounds that it ''might'' one day ''"(no promises)"'' be a title that is mechanically available. It felt like a direct snub after having invested so much time, so much of my character, and so much effort into building the role (particularly considering how outlandish so many titles are allowed to be). Unexpectedly hearing his name in lyric, recognizing him as a wyrmslayer, lifted my spirits on the matter exponentially. After all, what better gauge of success as a hero could there be than being remembered in song?</pre>
{| role="presentation" class="wikitable mw-collapsible mw-collapsed"
| View Performance
|-
|
<pre{{log2}}>
Today is Feastday, day 8 of the month Koaratos in the year 5123. It is 21:23 by the elven time standard. It is currently late evening.

[Den of the Dragon - 24962]
Some open curtains of heavy, dark green velvet drape the vast stage, and argent tenting protects it and the closest pews from the elements without ruining the view of the rest of the audience. Globes of ethereal, magical lights hang overhead, beaming their glows in strategic directions controlled by a series of overhead ropes and pulleys that disappear behind the dark, backstage curtains. A shiny silver plaque adorns the front of a podium to the right of the stage and a walkway leads up and out. You also see the Teveriel disk, the alabaster Kialeigh disk with interlocking silver knotwork, the Dwi disk, an iron-banded wooden keg, the Tabubu disk, the Dremerie disk, the Yardie disk, a dancing couple statue with lady slipper orchids scattered around their feet, a string of mug-shaped lanterns separated by butterfly-carved crystal coasters, a garland of heath asters wrapped around a frosted crystal column and a golden silk sack.
Also here: Taraquin, Mearyn, Grand Lord Talinvor, Lady Uniana, Lord Teveriel, Miss Evii who is sitting, Kialeigh who is sitting, Whimweaver Leafiara, Adalfuns who is sitting, Imrys who is sitting, The Notorious Rovvigen who is sitting, Magister Raelee who is sitting, Warden Tolwynn, Vyrshkana, Missoni who is sitting, Lady of Manor Katara who is sitting, Pub Proprietor Lithyia who is sitting, Dwi who is sitting, Hadya who is sitting, Kalyrra who is sitting, Lord Randsford who is sitting, Lady Meliyara who is sitting, Dahcre Reader Ordim who is sitting, Chatelaine Traiva who is sitting, Jastalyn who is sitting, Sirona who is sitting, Squire Kothos who is sitting, Tabubu who is sitting, Jouster Littlemelody, Nazarr who is sitting, Argent Master Aurien who is sitting, Meril who is sitting, Rivienne who is sitting, Seomanthe, Lord Grutak who is sitting, Sarissa Tayler who is sitting, Dremerie who is sitting, Blade Yardie, Elusionari who is sitting, Xavanna who is sitting, Historian Lunaryna who is sitting, Cerysse
Obvious exits: none

The backstage curtains part slightly, and Leafiara steps out onto the stage. A glimpse of the shadowy backstage is briefly visible before the curtains close behind her.

Katara applauds Leafiara.
You applaud.
Lunaryna hoots at Leafiara.
Katara applauds Leafiara.
Ordim applauds.
Nazarr lets out a cheer!
Katara applauds Leafiara.
Elusionari applauds Leafiara politely.
Imrys grins.
Dwi raises her blue Darkstone draught in a toast!
Randsford applauds.
Yardie applauds Leafiara.
Missoni applauds warmly.
Imrys applauds Leafiara.
Rovvigen applauds Leafiara.
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Katara turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Leafiara smiles and strides out to center stage with little pomp or circumstance to her gait.
Meril applauds Leafiara.
Seomanthe whistles at Leafiara!
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Kothos applauds Leafiara.
Lithyia turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Jastalyn turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Tabubu applauds.
Meliyara applauds.

(Leafiara wears something of a mix of casual attire and clothes suited for battle as usual, in chain mail worn over a sundress, but her lute hangs from her neck and is cradled in her arm.)

Vyrshkana lets out a cheer!

Leafiara begins, "Tonight I'll sing of a town filled with brave, hearty people making their lives in a dangerous world..."

Adalfuns guesses, "Icemule?"

Jastalyn grins.
Lithyia grins at Adalfuns.

Leafiara continues, "A town I love dearly and should truthfully spend much more time in...."

Imrys bites her lip.
Lithyia giggles.

Grutak says, "So... Icemule."

Xavanna applauds Leafiara.
Lithyia giggles to herself.

Leafiara lightly says, "A frontier town, perhaps the finest I know..."

You deeply exclaim, "Cold River!"
You duck your head.
Adalfuns snickers at you!
Lunaryna appears to be trying hard not to grin.

Leafiara says, "That's right..."
Leafiara looks at you and breaks into a cheeky grin.
Leafiara enthuses, "Cold River!"

You grin.
Leafiara nods to you.

Leafiara fondly acknowledges, "Because, sure, the Landing's ways are a mess..."

Lithyia laughs at Leafiara!
Lithyia nods.
Lithyia adopts an agreeable expression.

Leafiara cheekily says, "But hunting in the Hinterwilds is better than anything we've got down here."
Lithyia giggles to herself.
Sirona grins.

With a twinkle in her eye, Leafiara begins a jaunty melody on her lute.
Leafiara flashes a wide grin.

Kialeigh just came down a walkway.
Miss Evii just came down a walkway.
Lord Teveriel's group just came down a walkway.

(Nazarr looks doubtful.)
Traiva agrees with Nazarr.

Leafiara begins building a complex, upbeat melody in a major key, her fingers lightly springing over the strings.
Leafiara sings teasingly:

"Familiar routines are safer
And habits grow hard to break
Some choose to forego adventure
But that is a grave mistake"

Leafiara closes her eyes for a moment.
Leafiara nods knowingly.

Leafiara launches into the next verse, this time adding in an impish harmony line that seems to tease the main theme along.

Leafiara sings playfully:

"Embrace the wide world around you:
The Hinterwilds call your name!
When wondrous things surround you,
What more could you hope to claim?"

Putting a variation in her strum, Leafiara runs through the verse and into a catchy chorus that will stick in your head for days.
Leafiara sings earnestly:

"Wild and free!
Wild and free!
Light up the fires of your desires, go there and see"

Leafiara skips sideways a few strides to her right.

Grand Lord Talinvor just came down a walkway.

Leafiara skips sideways a few strides to her left.

Leafiara sings cheerfully:

"In more 'stable' lands,
Your every dream gets twisted by conflicting schemes
But up north it's given: Cold River's livin'
Wild and free!"

Dremerie grins at Leafiara.

Leafiara coaxes rich notes from her lute with a showy variant on the common strum.
Leafiara sings wistfully:

"They're people besieged by danger
Threats lurking 'round every bend
In touch with the truths of nature:
Grow strong to prolong your end"

Leafiara precisely picks out her fast-paced melody across the frets of her lute, each note ringing true despite the speed of the song.
Leafiara sings flowingly:

"My troubles had once seemed vivid
Before dodging swords thrice my size
Now things that used to make me livid
Are nothing to my retrained eyes"

Leafiara winks.

Mearyn just came down a walkway.

Leafiara performs a series of vigorous strums that uplift the spirit in their powerful sound.
Leafiara sings confidently:

"Wild and free!
Wild and free!
Cold River style
Can't stop my smile
Live perilously!"

Leafiara picks up the pace of the song slightly, fingers modulating between chords in a happy major key.
Leafiara sings merrily:

"It's what people seek but rarely find
No deep concerns or cares in mind
No obligations, no machinations
Wild and free!"

Leafiara sweeps the music upward in a swelling crescendo of vibrant harmony.
Leafiara sings boisterously:

"Wild and free!
Their ways are so breezy,
Everything's freezing
Literally!"

Leafiara's face breaks into a cheeky grin.
Sirona grins.
Lithyia giggles at Leafiara.
Leafiara flashes a quick grin.
You grin.
Tabubu trembles as if a cold chill just ran up her spine.

Leafiara bridges her song into a new key, taking it to new heights of intensity.
Leafiara sings proudly:

"Even the bounties there pay more
Up in that town, they know the score!
When you have spirit, no need to fear it
Wild and free!"

(Leafiara suddenly slows her playing and brings the complexity down to a mischievous minimalism before beginning to rebuild toward her previous intensity.)

Embellishing on the simple melody, Leafiara skillfully conveys a measure of the joy she feels while playing.
Leafiara sings with jollity:

"The ice seems so nice, the cold blows so bold
But just venture out and that's when you'll know
They've formed all their hordes, their packs on attacks
Prepare to defend your soul"

Leafiara finishes the verse of the song then begins the next, further embellishing the melody by adding an ecstatic moving harmony.
Leafiara sings staccato:

"As war hits the floor, the bands take command
With swords, staves, and boards in everyone's hands
And when the wyrm lands, you might need new plans
To just watch Myharl go!"

You flash a wide grin.
Leafiara winks at you.
You raise your fist in a display of defiance.
Lunaryna grins slowly.
Lithyia grins at you.
Sirona grins at you.

Leafiara gets an excited look on her face, and her body begins to shake as her smile stretches from ear-to-ear.

Leafiara accentuates her song with emphatic strums, adding to the intensity.
Leafiara sings rollickingly:

"Wild and free!
Wild and free!
Hear the wargs howling
Hinterboars growling
Music to me!"


Leafiara jaunts through the rambunctious refrain, the melody and descant playing along in a breathless game of musical tag.
Leafiara sings brightly:

"What else would you hunt, some weak old lich?
Seek a real challenge, scratch your itch!"

Leafiara turns suddenly and begins to bound about, frolicking about the immediate area like a particularly giddy squirrel.

Leafiara dances her fingers over the strings of her lute to weave a driving melody.
Leafiara sings whimsically:

"See disirs flying, you might be dying
Wild and free!"

Kalyrra grins at Leafiara.
Jastalyn grins.

The tempo of Leafiara's song builds like the charge of a herd of thrak, unstoppable in its momentum and speed.
Leafiara sings jubilantly:

"Berserker blades swinging
Deadly skalds singing
Wild and free!"

Imrys laughs softly, trying to hide her amusement.
Lithyia giggles.

Leafiara walks her fingers up the neck of her lute, making a bright run into the sunny chorus.
Leafiara sings hurriedly:

"Oozes dividing
Shield-maidens riding
Cannibals biting
Disciples reciting
Draugrs off stomping
Mastodons romping
Wild and free!"

Rovvigen mutters cannibals.
Rovvigen snickers.
Lithyia grins at Rovvigen.

Leafiara runs through the chorus twice, as if to make certain you will not be able to stop humming it anytime soon.
Leafiara sings clearly:

"Mutants and golems
Wendigos roaming
Wild and free!"


Leafiara strums the strings of her lute with a wide sweep of her arm and a convoluted pattern of fingering. Showoff!
Leafiara sings powerfully:

"Valravns staring
Angargeists glaring
Every day's thrilling
Up where it's chilling
Battles and clashing
Winds always lashing
Wild and free!"

Giving a final showy circle of her arm, Leafiara strums one last chord before deadening the strings.

(Leafiara dips her head back to deliver the final syllable toward the heavens as her hand simultaneously strums the last note, then smoothly sweeps out to her side in a grand gesture of her exuberance.)

Vyrshkana lets out a cheer!
Sirona smiles at Leafiara.
Jastalyn lets out a cheer!
You flash a wide grin.
You applaud Leafiara.
Lithyia applauds Leafiara.
Dwi knowingly grunts in satisfaction.
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Vyrshkana applauds Leafiara.
Katara applauds Leafiara.
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Lithyia turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Traiva lets out a cheer!
Rivienne applauds Leafiara.
Evii applauds warmly.
Mearyn applauds.
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.

(Leafiara lowers her head to face the audience again with a bright grin, then pulls her free hand back to her elesine sundress for a single-armed curtsy.)

You let out a cheer!
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Imrys applauds Leafiara.
Katara turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Sirona claps her hands together in delight!
Meliyara applauds Leafiara.
Hadya applauds politely.
Kothos applauds Leafiara.
Lunaryna applauds Leafiara.
Jastalyn applauds wildly!
Uniana applauds.
You hear someone applauding from the shadows.
Raelee takes a moment to observe Leafiara.
Seomanthe lets loose a loud whoop of delight.
Traiva applauds Leafiara.
Leafiara flashes a wide grin.
Missoni applauds Leafiara warmly.
Littlemelody applauds.
Ordim applauds.
Kialeigh applauds Leafiara.
Tayler applauds.
Rovvigen whistles at Leafiara!
Dwi tips her head back and empties a mug of blue Darkstone draught down her gullet!
Talinvor applauds.
Yardie applauds Leafiara.
Teveriel applauds politely.
Rovvigen whistles at Leafiara!
Randsford applauds Leafiara.
Meril applauds Leafiara.
Rovvigen whistles at Leafiara!

Katara raspily says, "What a fun song."
Sirona beams at Leafiara and claps her hands together in delight!
Nazarr applauds Leafiara.
Rivienne turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Dremerie turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Tolwynn applauds Leafiara.
Dwi belches softly.

You quietly whisper to Leafiara, "That was awesome."
Leafiara taps her white owl pin on its tiny head and it emits a loud hoot!

Seomanthe turns to Leafiara and cheers!
Aurien lets out a cheer!
Elusionari applauds Leafiara.
Lithyia grins at Dwi.
Tayler grins.
Kalyrra applauds Leafiara.
Rovvigen nods in agreement at Katara.
Jastalyn giggles.
Tayler nods at Katara.
Tabubu applauds.

Katara raspily exclaims, "And beautiful voice!"
Jastalyn turns to Leafiara and cheers!

Leafiara sits down.
</pre>
|}
== Notable Achievements ==
'''Historical Encounters'''
'''Historical Encounters'''
* Held council with [[Nexur]], the Exiled One, Former Student to the [[Fash'lo'nae|Grandfather]], Disgraced [[Orders_of_the_Turamzzyrian_Empire#The_Hall_of_Mages|Warden of the Hallowed Scroll]], and would-be "King of Elves" at his eternal frozen prison
* Held council with [[Nexur]], the Exiled One, Former Student to the [[Fash'lo'nae|Grandfather]], Disgraced [[Orders_of_the_Turamzzyrian_Empire#The_Hall_of_Mages|Warden of the Hallowed Scroll]], and would-be "King of Elves" at his eternal frozen prison

Revision as of 10:19, 17 August 2023

Myharl the Dark Tower
MYHARL-2023-WIKI-PROFILE-IMAGE.JPG
(Formerly Myharl Gryphonwind)
Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu
Race Giantman
Hometown Wehnimer's Landing / Cold River (adulthood), Southron Wastes Nomad (childhood)
Class Merchant / Former Morganatic Noble
Profession Warrior (Wyrmslayer)
Religion None / Previously: Koar (The Great Drake), Kor'thriss (Guardian of the World), and the Champion 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 Once friendly and warm, more recently distant and grim
Alignment Equivalent: Neutral Good ]
Demeanor Bloodthirsty (particularly towards wyrms)
Primary Trait Exceptionally tall (10' 5"), Kroderine Soul
Secondary Trait His towering height and hulking frame cause him to get in the way a lot
Flaw Propensity to be a loner that is growing more prevalent
Greatest Strength Berserking
Greatest Weakness Berserking
Habits Frequent whiskey and pipe-weed, occasionally opium.
Hobbies Master crafter, master forger (all weapon types), sheath maker, shop owner [Gryphonwind Ventures], and avid wyrm hunter
Soft Spots Dark Elven Women
Likes Testing his mettle
Dislikes Zealots, dishonesty, and crowded rooms
Fears Dishonor to himself, Disappointing loved ones
Loyalties Spirit of the Forlorn Maiden / Previously: Lumnis, Lorminstra, Phoen, and Ronan (By association to Koar)
Best Friend Far too many to list
Spouse None / Divorced; Married 5109-5122 to Ladies Aurla, Psyryn, Yterria, and Yieshia
Loved One Lunaryna (Beloved Friend/Past Love)
Children None
CHE and MHO Membership
CHE House of the Rising Phoenix
House of the rising phoenix.jpg
CHE Rank Former Functional Officer
CHE Position Event Runner
MHO Affiliations House Daingneach Onoir — Former Lord Sage, Guildmaster of the Order of the Quill, Former Head Squire appointed by the Lady Paladin, and Bearer of the Oriflamme (Resigned 5111)
Greater Elanthian Merchant Society
(Defunct)

Shrouded in tendrils of swirling umber and twisting shadows and accompanied by an unnaturally frigid aura, Myharl is a cursed kindred who was long ago exiled from his desert homelands in the Southron Wastes. He is a berserker and famed wyrmslayer who now hails from Cold River, a hibernal village settled beyond the Long Snow, deep in the nival heart of the Hinterwilds.

His extraordinary height and a battle-forged mettle have earned him the moniker Dark Tower. He bears loyalty to no kingdom or empire, bends a knee to no ruler or sovereign, and lends no sworn faith to the divine. His allegiances are to his friends and those he considers family, and to them his dedication is unwavering.

His soul is bound to the Eye of the Drake, an ancient and mysterious artifact in his possession. Dating back to the era of the thousand years war between the Great Drakes and Ur-Daemons, the Eye is the domain of a mysterious dark shadow entity who has secretly manipulated pivotal moments in Myharl's life, honing his wrath and rage and driving him ever northward.

Though oblivious to his curse and misled about the nature of the Eye for most his life, the truth was recently discovered by his closest friend, a learned scholar, who had a direct confrontation with the dark entity when researching the artifact. It was learned that it has spent a lifetime grooming the giantkin to become its Destroyer.

Despite now having knowledge of this deception and his intended fate, the shadowy curse continues to compel Myharl to dwell at the wintry edge of the world and to hunt and destroy its most dangerous creatures, ever seeking stronger and more deadly wyrms to fell. With every passing day the dark magic wears upon his spirit, pushing him further into a grim darkness.


Current Appearance

Combat Appearance

You see Myharl 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 silvered ebon tattoo depicting a wyrm's talon descending from beneath his left eye, a small dark shard-shaped mark on his neck, a pulsating blue sunstone ring in the upper ridge of his left ear.
He gives off a fierce demeanor.
Dark shadows twist and swirl around him.
He is in good shape.
He is holding an ancient wyrm talon bound in arabesqued balenite in his right hand.
He is wearing a slit-visored black alloy greathelm crested with shining disir feathers, a mesh black alloy aventail, a black alloy neckchain suspending a shard of rime-shrouded everfrost, a hooded undansormr scale cloak lined with floccose niveous warg fur, a petite nacre moonflower, 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 frostworn hinterboar hide satchel, a hip-slung palladium-edged weapon-belt with a glowing white sacred warsword hanging from it, a kilt of shadowy valravn quills cinched by a silver-shot wyrm's talon sporran, a pair of black alloy leg greaves, a pair of ko'nag-framed snowshoes afixed with buckled straps under some cord-bound hinterboar hide boots hitched with rugged ice cleats, and a krodera-bound black alloy tower shield slung over his shoulder.

Casual Appearance

You see Myharl 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 silvered ebon tattoo depicting a wyrm's talon descending from beneath his left eye, a small dark shard-shaped mark on his neck, a pulsating blue sunstone ring in the upper ridge of his left ear, a pair of knotwork wyrm tattoos unfurling from over his shoulders to lock gazes on his chest, a caliginous shadowy drake tattoo on his arm, and a sinuously coiled abyran'sa tattoo on his arm.
He gives off a fierce demeanor.
Dark shadows twist and swirl around him.
He is in good shape.
He is holding a chaya of warm sake in his left hand.
He is wearing a black alloy neckchain suspending a shard of rime-shrouded everfrost, a half-buttoned umbral silk shirt with rolled sleeves, a petite nacre moonflower, an ancient wyrm talon bound in arabesqued balenite, a tower-ensigiled onyx signet ring worn on the right middle finger, a sturdy ko'nag case, a wide stygian leather belt draping a pair of trio-tiered black alloy chains, a kilt of shadowy valravn quills cinched by a silver-shot wyrm's talon sporran, and a pair of sable leather boots bound in numerous buckled straps.

Current Sate of Roleplay

Currently, Myharl is experiencing a major shift in his story line—a new, darker chapter.

New visions, prompted by the Eye of the Drake, set his path to the edge of the world, beyond the Long Snow and into the Hinterwilds. Soon upon arriving, merit was given to his foresight as a fierce dragonic figure soared overhead beneath the dark skies and glowing aurora. This was the place of wyrms in the long-ago dreams which led him from the desert wastes. It goes unquestioned that his fate/curse has led him into the endless winter, however the place is tainted by dark magic. Ancient magic. A force that relentlessly wears away at his soul. Day-by-day he grows distant, darker—more grim. The once joyful, fun-loving giant has grown starkly cold and notably more bloodthirsty (even for the berserker that he is). However, something draws him back from the edge of darkness after each trek into the long night. A distant warmth, a whisper, a mysterious anchor to light...

Myharl closes his eyes briefly as he gently places his right hand over his heart. His fingers brush against a petite nacre moonflower there donned and the tendrils of shadow writhing around his figure violently recede from the token as if repelled by some unseen force. A peaceful silence washes over his visage for a moment as he draws a deep breath. The shadows return to wreath him as his eyes flash open. He steels his nerves, readies his warsword and shield, and marches resolutely into the frigid gale-thrown night.

Wyrm Slaying

First wyrm slain on Restday the 30th of Jastatos, 5122
Most recent wyrm slain by Myharl on Feastday the 29th of Koaratos, 5123
Myharl slayed his 100th wyrm on Tilamaires the 27th of Lumnea, 5123 at the Gigas Runestone on the outskirts of Fjallarhaart in the Hinterwilds; Under the Drake constellation

Unexpected and incredibly thoughtful commemoration from the TownCrier Team 

a gleaming gold medal illuminated with a giantman standing over a slain wyrm
a deckle-edged gilded ivory certificate The page, written in Common, reads as follows: CERTIFICATE OF RECOGNITION Awarded to Myharl 27th Lumnea 5123 at his Momentous Milestone 100 Wyrms Slain Signed, The TownCrier Team

Leafiara's song about Cold River, a Revelia Carnivale performance

OOC Note: After having spent most of a year establishing Myharl as wyrmslayer and pushing to get the community more interested in being involved in "the hunt" for them and leading many dozens of groups to slay wyrms, I had been feeling a bit disappointed having had my requested premium pre-name title "Wyrmslayer" denied for Myharl on the grounds that it might one day "(no promises)" be a title that is mechanically available. It felt like a direct snub after having invested so much time, so much of my character, and so much effort into building the role (particularly considering how outlandish so many titles are allowed to be). Unexpectedly hearing his name in lyric, recognizing him as a wyrmslayer, lifted my spirits on the matter exponentially. After all, what better gauge of success as a hero could there be than being remembered in song?

Notable Achievements

Historical Encounters

The Encounter (Restday the 2nd of Lormesta, 5111)
 

Battles


Victories



Big Game Hunter

  • Silver-Scaled Cold Wyrm Kills: 75
  • Azure-Scaled Cold Wyrm Kills: 33
  • Snowy Warg Packmother Kills: 57
  • Cinereous Chthonian Sybil Kills: 3
  • Total Big Game Kills: 163

Politics


Guilds, Societies & Trained Skills

Adventurer's Guild Information (as of Leyan the 16th of Phoenatos, 5123)

Awarded Unique Titles

  • Caligos Diving Champion (Won both 1st and 3rd place at 5120 high dive competition) [External Link: Official Forums]
Pictured: Wyrmslayer Myharl the Dark Tower posed standing before the Gigas runestone on the outskirts of Fjallarhaart in the Hinterwilds in 5123 of the Modern Era. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu to commemorate the 100th wyrm slain by Myharl.
Pictured: Lord Myharl Gryphonwind (before his 'darkening') in 5110 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. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu to commemorate Myharl's single-handed victory in battle against four vathors at once.

Pictured: Grand Lord Myharl Gryphonwind (before his 'darkening') in 5119 of the Modern Era standing tandem with Forlorn Maiden, the released nedum vereri spirit he formed a pact with who haunts his sacred warsword. Posed standing before Mount Aenatumgana, wearing what was his typical light travel outfit before his travels beyond the Long Snow into the Hinterwilds. Pictured leaning on a keg of his personal home-brew cinnamon whiskey, Gryphonwind Special. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu to commemorate Myharl's achievement of '3x Capped'.

Pets & Animal Companions

Aurora — a nival white arctic lemming with glowing azure eye


Myharl discovered the nival arctic lemming trapped in the nebulous void of the River of Color. She had apparently been there quite some time, weak, unmoving, and unable to escape. She managed to subsist as long as she had by consuming the motes floating among the spilling brume of color. Eating the particles of essence caused her eyes to glow with swirling hues of azure; a feature that seems to be permanent. He rescued her, returning her to the Boreal Forest, but the little creature refused to leave his side. So, he instead named her Aurora as her lucent eyes reminded him of the shifting hues of the aurora in the Hinterwilds. She's quite the nuisance, but her presence has grown on him.

Gryphonwind Ventures & Myharl's Office

Gryphonwind Ventures is Myharl's shop.

The shop is titled for the surname "Gryphonwind" that he had once taken as his own, but has since dropped when it was uncovered the namesake had betrayed him, and was in fact a manifestation of a dark entity that has cursed him in his youth. The shop is located in Wehnimer's Landing at the first block of Ebonwood Way (Lich# L337) inside the hexagonal stone building with a pair of large golden gryphon statues flanking the doorway. The shop title is maintained due to the slow-moving bureaucratic nature of the merchant guild, but plans are to rename it when the opportunity arises.

The shop was established by Myharl in 5109 and the business began as a quaint single-room antiquities shop specializing in veil iron rarities and relics from ages long past. This early venture was highly profitable and the selection of wares quickly expanded as did the storefront. In 5110 "Gryphonwind Ventures" was founded.

In 5112 the shop was officially registered with the Wehnimer's Landing merchant guild, and Myharl founded his personal office in the west wing of the establishment. The location is as much a base of operations as a functional storefront, and when he's in town, Myharl can most frequently be found loitering within.

In 5113, Dallin Proudmire, a professional bard and scribe, was hired to verify new wares to be displayed and tend to the shop while Myharl was away on his adventures. He has since become a silent partner in the venture.

In 5123 Myharl officially partnered Gryphonwind Ventures with Lunaryna Talviel with his office occupying the west wing of the building, her gallery in the east wing, and a shared storefront foyer.

Gryphonwind Special Cinnamon Whiskey

Gryphonwind Special is a home-branded whiskey distilled by Myharl. The grains he uses are flavored with a hefty amount of fiery cinnamon and sweet amaranth greens, and lightly infused with hints of ground bitter delphinuris (delphira) leaves and sweet salorisa (saloryss) flower petals.

He distills a new barrel every year, and ages the spirits for five years in sephwir kegs which he keeps stowed in the back room of his shop, Gryphonwind Ventures in Wehnimer's Landing. In the shop Foyer, he usually keeps a small stock available to purchase at a cost of 1 silver. He sometimes will provide a keg and free drinks for a special event he is attending if such offering is appropriate for the event protocol. The drink is served in wooden flagons, which he insists is integral to drawing out the the true flavor of the whiskey.

A Veniom-Bound Silvery Sephwir Keg (an oversized carved wooden flagon of Gryphonwind Special)

The Frigid Argent Wanderlust

The Frigid Argent Wanderlust is a sloop Myharl purchased to assist with importing various wares to sell in his shop, Gryphonwind Ventures. It can usually be found docked in Wehnimer's Landing when not pressed into service. He doesn't regularly participate in Open Sea Adventures because his goals and interests are focused elsewhere.

Primary Weapons & Armaments

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 on improvements for this, his 'end-game' set of combat gear. The following list will be maintained and updated as improvements are made to the items.


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" [1,057 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, S6 Sanctify with Holy Fire, Unbalance Flares, Spiked, VHDP/VHCP, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Full Plate crafted of black alloy w/ 5% Resistances against Crush/Slash/Puncture, +3 Health/Stamina Recovery (25 charges max) [866 difficulty]


Krodera-Bound Black Alloy Tower Shield — 10x (+50), T5 Ensorcell, S6 Sanctify with Holy Fire, Fire Flares, Spiked, Fully Unlocked T2 Harnessed, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Tower Shield crafted of black alloy [756 difficulty]


Black Alloy Vambraces — Fully Unlocked T4 Brutal/Cunning Fancy Greaves (Switchable Lightning Flares/Fire Flares/Plasma Flares) with Ghost Flare Messaging, Spiked, S6 Sanctify with Holy Fire, HDP/HCP, Unlocked Lore, Max Light, Holy Arm Greaves crafted of black alloy w/ +10 CON enhancive with upgraded charges (105 charges max). [391 difficulty] Can hold/equip/sheath two daggers.


Slit-Visored Black Alloy Greathelm Crested with Shining Disir FeathersAnfelt Armor Zested, Acid Flares, Spiked, HDP/HCP, Unlocked Lore, Maxlight Greathelm (head/neck) crafted of black alloy w/ +8 STR enhancive (19 charges max). [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 (53 charges max). [14 difficulty]


Pair of Black Alloy Leg GreavesAcid Flares, Spiked, LDP/LCP, Unlocked Lore, Maxlight Leg Greaves crafted of black alloy w/ +11 DEX/+8 Harness Power Bonus enhancives (17 charges max). [18 difficulty]


Other Notable Items & Gear

Winter's Embrace
a black alloy neckchain suspending a shard of rime-shrouded everfrost
Suspended by a thick black alloy neckchain traced with faint verglas, the everfrost is pale and clear, but fingers of frost clinging to its surface suggest that it is no mere diamond, but a chunk of crystallized rhimar.  The jewel radiates intense cold, causing the air around it to puff into faint wisps of mist.  A blizzard of frigid blue and glacial green glints wink across its jagged facets.

Ambient: A frigid helical miasma of wintry mist coalesces around a black alloy neckchain suspending a shard of rime-shrouded everfrost worn by Myharl before condensing into hoary frost particulates that embrace its deep glacial facets.

an ancient wyrm talon bound in arabesqued balenite — Shadow themed premium teleportation device (Worn as a pin, functional)


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)


Hooded Undansormr Scale Cloak Lined With Floccose Niveous Warg Fur — Feature Concealing Hooded Cloak, Closes, Epic Deepened to Hold Gigantic Amount, 20% Weight Reduction (Worn over the shoulders, functional)


Kilt of Shadowy Valravn Quills Cinched by a Silver-shot Wyrm's Talon Sporran - Kilt/Greatkilt zested, Holds Slightly Large Amount (Worn over the legs, 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)


Crude Leather Wristband Dangling Several Petrified Warg Fangs — +7 CON enhancive, persists, huge number of charges (Worn on wrists, functional)


Tattoos & Visible Markings

  • a silvered ebon tattoo depicting a wyrm's talon descending from beneath his left eye

  • a small dark shard-shaped mark on his neck (Branded by the hand of The Exiled Nexur)

  • a sinuously coiled abyran'sa tattoo on his arm

  • A pair of flaming drake's wings tattooed on his back

About the Dark Tower: General Information & Life Story [Quick Summary FAQ]

Myharl is a berserker and noted wyrmslayer 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, under the sign of the Paladin. He is 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. However the surname was forsaken upon his early adventures in the Hinterwilds when, through a vision/spirit journey, Myharl learned that Gryphonwind had actually been a manifestation of a (yet to be identified) ancient evil entity, the source of the Eye of the Drake, who placed a powerful curse upon him in his youth as it carefully guided his life's path northward to "hone the wrath" and "awaken the drake" within him. He now simply goes by his name and moniker, Myharl the Dark Tower.

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 & Marriages

Pictured: High Lord Myharl Gryphonwind (before his 'darkening') in the company of his four former wives at his Wehnimer's Landing shop, Gryphonwind Ventures, in 5115 of the Modern Era. From left to right: Grand Lady Psyryn, Myharl, Grand Lady Yterria (seated), Lady Yieshia (kneeling), and Renowned Lady Aurla. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu to commemorate Yieshia joining her three sisters in union to Myharl.

At intervals throughout his adult life Myharl has courted various women. He discusses few, but always spoke fondly of 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, and the two would eventually amicably part to walk different paths.

Upon the fourth decade of his life, after deciding to make Wehnimer’s Landing his home and base of operations, he discovered the opportunity to establish more permanent companionship. He was 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 refered to as his "little magess".

Myharl and his former wives made their home at the private suite on the second floor of the Raging Thrak Inn in the town square of Wehnimer's Landing. In the summer months they could frequently be found relaxing in the suite's private bath and in the winter, warming themselves by the massive hearth in the living room. They spent many happy years together involved in local politics, helping to defend the town in times of need, and working for the Adventurers Guild to mitigate bandit activity in the surrounding regions.

However, after nearly a decade and half, the sisters suddenly received a missive summoning them for business back in their homeland. Afterwards, much of their time was spent away tending to family matters. Meanwhile, Myharl's treks beyond the Long Snow became more frequent and sustained in pursuit of hunting wyrms. Over time, the sisters and Myharl grew apart and rarely spoke. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months between seeing one another. Finally, at the end of their waning days together, the sisters departed a final time, cordially with narry fanfare. After months without word, Myharl accepted their companionship had faded away. In the winter of 5122, after having requested and receiving word of their welfare, Myharl dissolved the marriage, finalizing the divorce with town officials.

Upon marrying into dark elf nobility and becoming a morganatic noble, he had donned the title Grand Lord, which he maintained until their divorce.

By pure happenstance in early 5123, Myharl and Lunaryna's paths crossed once more, nearly two decades after their long-ago brief romance. In the following weeks they quickly rekindled their friendship after realizing that over the many years they both had retained a quiet and mostly unspoken admiration for one another. Their two souls, so altered during their time apart, reforged a connection, though one that is vastly different than what they once shared. The two can often be found sitting side-by-side, but they wouldn't be mistaken for more than close friends. However, any who know Myharl well would take note of an instant warming of his demeanor whenever he is in her presence.

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

Pictured: The Eye of the Drake (so named by Myharl), an ancient artifact from the era of the Drake and Urdeamon war. In possession of Myharl who has been bound by curse to the artifact as well as the shadowy entity that resides within. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu.
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.

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 agreed that whatever evil curse was lain upon the people of the Ishans had now been cast upon him. It was no longer safe for him to be among his kin. He was a danger to them. With hurtful disdain they exiled Myharl, demandeding he return the artifact to Kilanirij and never again return to the tribe.

He protested, he demanded, and finally he begged the elders to reconsider. However, realizing there was no way to convince them otherwise, Myharl beseeched the elders to at least 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 family here. Take your curse and be gone!"

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

Myharl was allowed to attend the funeral pyres, and afterwards he accepted the small clay jars in which the ashes of his family had been gathered, along with two more holding the cremated remains of the Ishans. The contingent of armed hunters ushered him to his family’s tent and—with watchful eyes—they observed closely as he prepared to depart. Though he had not cognitively reckoned with the death of his sister and parents, he still felt a maelstrom of rage and sorrow swelling within, prompted by the detached indifference towards him suddenly bestowed by those who had always been in his memories. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. He was alone.

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 words, recognizing it would be the last time he was among his former kin, he slowly and deliberately rode through the breadth of the encampment, searing his eyes into the elders as he passed. He rode away from his home, and into the darkness enveloping the setting desert sun—he road towards Kilanirij.

Still in progress...

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

In progress...

Part IV: New Home In The Frontier (5109-5122 Modern Era)

In progress...

Part V: The Vixen & the Maiden — The Acquisition of Forlorn Maiden (5111 Modern Era)

Pictured: Forlorn Maiden, the haunted "sacred glowing white warsword" of Myharl Gryphonwind. Commissioned artwork by Mates Laurentiu.


Item Profile for Forlorn Maiden.

In progress...

Part VI: Endless Winter: Shadows & Talons (5122-Current Modern Era)

In progress...

OOC Questions & Answers

These Q&A originated on the Official Gemstone IV Discord, in the #roleplaying channel. Conversations that I felt relevant enough to catalog are archived in this section.


(12/07/2022) What are you looking for when it comes to roleplay in Gemstone?
(12/08/2022) What information do you put on your character's wiki page and what information, if any, do you deliberately avoid putting on there?
(12/10/2022) Without getting into basic vs premium or prime vs plat -- do you feel like your roleplay support/opportunities are a good value compared to what you pay? Do you think roleplay offers a fairly equitable experience despite the increased monetization of Gemstone?
(02/06/2023) We've discussed the tragic background story trope here a few times, so let's make that our next topic.  Do your PCs adhere to or buck the trope?  How so, and why did you make those choices?  Did you start off with that story, or did it evolve over time?
(02/06/2023) What's your PC's/NPC's relationship status?  Single, divorced, never married, throuple, it's complicated?  None of my business?  And as always, why?
(02/07/2023) Tell us about your PC's immediate family.  Are they close with their mother, father, and siblings?  How many of the latter do they have?  Are they an eldest, middle or baby in the family?  Where are they now, relative to your character?
(02/09/2023) Has your PC ever been accused, arrested, and/or convicted of a crime?  Through the justice system, in their background history, or during a story?  What were the charges, and were they innocent or guilty?  As always: why?
(02/10/2023) What questions does your character avoid answering?  Why?  Are they forthcoming, trusting, trustworthy, or introverted?  *OR UP TO SOMETHING?*  As always, why?
(02/13/2023) Are there elements of your character's nature, temperament and history that you have made changes to since you started playing them? Why did you make the change, and how painful and/or fun was it to do so?
(02/14/2023) What is your character *passionate* about?
(02/17/2023) How did you come up with your character's name?  Does it have a source in other fiction or the real world?  Or was it just a collection of syllables that worked for you?  Was it part of a family tradition?  Do they have any nicknames?

Behind the Scenes

The player of the character Myharl first discovered GemStone III in June of 1996 during summer vacation from his sophomore year of high school. He played regularly for the next eight years and was active as the game world transitioned from GSIII into GSIV. He played only one character (name intentionally redacted) before going on hiatus in 2004. After a five year absence, he returned in 2009 and began his Elanthian experience anew with the creation of Myharl whom he has played exclusively since.

Myharl's date of birth (and even the hour of his birth) are exactly the same as the player's—relative to the Elanthian calendar. Perhaps a less than creative approach, but the idea was to keep the character somewhat relevant in perspective over the years. As the player has grown with time, that often gets reflected in aspects of Myharl's persona.


Year-End Progress Reports (2009-2022)

This section includes the year-end data for Myharl's character progression as recorded on the night of December 31st for every year since the character's creation. This report will be udpated at the end of each new year. It's not particularly useful data, but it is a fun reflection of progress made over time. 


OOC Contacts

I don't publicly share my contact info, and don't normally share it directly with others in GS. However, if you need to get a hold of me OOC and cannot contact me in game, I have created a stand-alone Discord account @Myharl that is only used for the Official GemStone IV Discord and for direct messages regarding GemStone IV. Feel free to DM me there or send a friend request if it's regarding the game and I'll follow up when I have time.

Requiem Request

While it’s certainly not a part of the plan, being involved as a part of an ongoing fantasy world that spans decades and includes multiple generations, it is inevitable that sometimes players pass away. Their characters too pass on, often leaving in their wake legends and legacies as well as heartbroken friends and loved ones. It is a morbid topic to be sure, thus my inclusion of this section at the very end of this character entry.

Over the years I’ve lost more than my fair share of old friends and great allies in the world of Elanthia. Some prepared the closure of their character’s story—others were taken unexpectedly. This section is to reflect on the potential that I, the player of Myharl, could one day meet my end before the grand stories of GemStone reach conclusion. I despise unfinished stories. And so, this section presents how I would want to envision Myharl’s stage-exit from an in-character perspective should the unfortunate unexpectedly happen.

If his story dramatically shifts, this section is maintained to express how I would desire closure to the character’s story in the present.