Myharl (prime)
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Editor Note (December 3, 2022): This page is a work in progress that I intend to complete in the coming weeks as I pore over decades of logs for details, names, and dates.
— 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
- Slain Wyrm Count: 30 azure-scaled cold wyrms, 9 silver-scaled cold wyrms (as of Feastday the 3rd of Eorgaen, 5122)
- Member of the hunting party to fell the first azure-scaled cold wyrm (youngling wyrm) seen in the Hinterwilds. (Restday the 30th of Jastatos, 5122)
- Member of the hunting party to fell the first silver-scaled cold wyrm (adult wyrm) seen in the Hinterwilds. (Leyan the 9th of Eoantos, 5122) [External link: Combat Log ]
- First to slay a silver-scaled wyrm in one-on-one combat. (Tilamaires the 22nd of Eoantos, 5122) [External link: Combat Log ]
Battles
- Fought alongside Mayor Walkar Wellington and fellow Wehnimer's Landing citizens and supporters in the Battle of the Lich's Citadel to defeat the Lich King, Barnom Slim (Restday the 3rd of Charlatos, 5113)
- Fought alongside Sir Thadston Andrews and other heroes in the Bleaklands during the battle to defeat the witch, Raznel (Volnes the 11th of Eoantos, 5119)
Victories
- Current Strongest Foe Vanquished: a fearsome hellbound queen (Level 141) (Slain outside the Wehnimer's Landing North Gate on Volnes the 31st of Jastatos, 5122)
- Previous Strongest Foe Vanquished: a shadowy Lich King's assassin (Level 140) (Slain at the Lich's Citadel in Lich's Landing on Restday the 3rd of Charlatos, 5113)
- Proudest Victory: a silver-scaled cold wyrm (Level 120) (Slain at Eldurhaart in the Hinterwilds via solo combat on Tilamaires the 22nd of Eoantos, 5122)
Politics
- Event Manager & Coordinator for the Unity Festival (Combined Global CHE & MHO Event) (5110)
- Former Lord Sage, Guildmaster of the Order of the Quill, Former Head Squire appointed by the Lady Paladin, and Bearer of the Oriflamme of House Daingneach Onoir (5110-5111) (Stripped of all Honors by no wrongdoing of his own; a result of unrelated conflicts in house leadership. Resigned membership soon thereafter.)
- Major Investor in the renovations to the Wehnimer's Landing Historical Museum (5111) (Despised Grishom Stone, but agreed there was need for a secure location to house the Gale Stone/Star of Khar'ta )
- Event Runner for House of the Rising Phoenix (5109-5111)
- Event Runner for the Greater Elanthian Merchant Society (MHO Now Defunct) (5110-5112)
- Wehnimer's Landing [Mayoral Campaign] Manager for Lady Aurla (5115) (Election went to Puptilian)
- Represented Wehnimer's Landing as a combatant at the Festival of the Fallen in Ta'Vaalor (5115)
- Represented Wehnimer's Landing as a finalist combatant at the Festival of the Fallen in Ta'Vaalor (5121) (Dined in the company of King Qalinor Vaalor with the other representatives after the contest)
- In attendance of the coronation of Baron Breshon Caufield of Bourth at Wyrdeep (Restday the 7th of Phoenatos, 5122)
Guilds, Societies & Trained Skills
- Registered Guildmaster and Master-at-Arms of the Wehnimer's Landing Warrior Guild
- Master in the Order of Voln
- [Artisan Skill] Master Blacksmith (Crafting & Forging All Weapon Types)
- [Artisan Skill] Highest Rank Journeyman in the Fletching Skill
- [General Skill] Highest Rank Apprentice in Playing All Musical Instrument Types
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 [FireFlares], 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.
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The hilt and quillons of the warsword are fashioned into the likeness of a gnarled and twisted corpse with its arms outstretched in ghoulish repose. A series fine chains drape from the extended arms in trio, and arc down to wrap around the torso, providing a secure grip for the weapon. The blade has been faintly etched with the image of a beautiful wisp-surrounded maiden, reaching up towards its tip. In relation, she appears to be rising from the horrid anatomy of the corpse beneath her. You notice a small enchanter's glyph and a crafting mark. A strange necrotic haze radiates from the warsword. A strong aura of holy light radiates from the warsword. There appears to be something written on it. |
Full Suit of Black Alloy Platmail — 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]
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The shadowy form of the black alloy platemail confers a deep indigo blue iridescence and has been meticulously etched across its entire surface with a wyrm scale pattern. The armor has been edged and riveted with silvery palladium and lined beneath by a thick padding of flocculent hinterboar mane. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph. A strange necrotic haze radiates from the platemail. A strong aura of holy light radiates from the platemail. |
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]
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On the reverse of the shield, strips of warg pelt and a complex webbing of oiled leather straps and polished buckles form an intricate arm harness. The straps are arranged in a pattern that appears able to secure a weapon within. Stuck diagonally through the complex webbing is a [WEAPON]. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph. A strange necrotic haze radiates from the shield. A strong aura of holy light radiates from the shield. Emblazoned on the shield is a coat of arms.
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The House of the Rising Phoenix
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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.
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The shadowy forms of the black alloy vambraces confer a deep indigo-blue iridescence and have been meticulously etched across their entire surface with a wyrm scale pattern. The armaments have been edged and riveted with silvery palladium and lined beneath with a thick padding of flocculent hinterboar mane. As you look at the vambraces, they briefly pulse with a ferocious violet light. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph. |
Slit-Visored Black Alloy Helm — Anfelt 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]
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The shadowy form of the black alloy helm confers a deep indigo blue iridescence and has been meticulously etched across its entire surface with a wyrm scale pattern. The armament has been edged and riveted with silvery palladium and lined within by a thick padding of flocculent hinterboar mane. |
Mesh Black Alloy Aventail — [Acid 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]
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The shadowy form of the black alloy mesh aventail confers a deep indigo blue iridescence. The armament has been edged with silvery palladium and is lined beneath with a thick padding of flocculent hinterboar mane. |
Pair of Black Alloy Leg Greaves — [Acid 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]
| Further Item Details |
The shadowy forms of the black alloy greaves confer a deep indigo blue iridescence and have been meticulously etched across their entire surface with a wyrm scale pattern. The armaments have been edged and riveted with silvery palladium and lined beneath with a thick padding of flocculent hinterboar mane. |
About the Dark Tower: General Info & Life Summary
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.
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".
Part I: Acquisition of the Eye & The Journey Begins (5097 Modern Era)
Eye of the Drake
a shadowy crystal ball containing a mysteriously shifting eye blazing with an unknown power
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get my ark> You remove a gold-bound white veil iron ark from in your phoenix down mantle. look at my ark> The ark consists of a gold-bound box crafted of solid veil iron. It has been completely emblazoned with ancient runes and boasts a pair of miniature golden dragons that are seated in resplendent stature. The gold-cast dragons face each other, in seeming unyielding pose, with their wings outstretched behind them and their necks wrapped around an elaborate golden crown-shaped emblem. open my ark> You open the lid on your white veil iron ark, which begins to glow. look in my ark> In the white veil iron ark you see a shadowy crystal ball. get my ball> You grab a shadowy crystal ball containing a mysteriously shifting eye blazing with an unknown power from inside the white veil iron ark. |
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 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 that donned 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.
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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)
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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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