Taemar the Grand Master of Seasons > Ye Olde Graveyard > Abandoned Realms Forums
Taemar created on 21st of August 2017, and is dead and gone (20 years old, 73 hours, 6 months lifetime)

Title: the Grand Master of Seasons
Gender: Male
Level: 50
Class: human monk

Background history:

  1. The First Charge - posted at 2017-08-24 13:40:43
  2. The Evil Sorcerer - posted at 2017-08-24 13:44:22
The First Charge
It is the day of the Nightwolves. The Lord Moon shines high over our heads. A group of 12 man crest the top of the hill, surveying the huge Dredge Plains below them. The Lord Commander gestured below, "Look, our glory lies just beyond that plains. Victory is in our grasp". Below soldiers fought on the plains. A huge battle ensued as the Lord Commander observes from high above, watching the blood spill as our soldiers slugged it out against our enemies. The Lord Commander pointed at a tower rising high just beyond the plains and said 'Taemar, that is our target. You have your orders, the sorcerer must die." Pointing towards the Eastern side of the plains, he said "There, a weakness in their defense. Strike hard and you will be through their lines." As Taemar descended the hill, he blew a sharp whistle. A group of 200 men approached and follow Taemar as he moved towards their horses. These were the horses of the Death Guards, bred and trained by the finest groom you can ever find. Taemar looked at the 20 men and said "Mount up. We strike on the Eastern Flank. Today, we hunt the evil sorcerer." The Death Guards surged across the Eastern flank of the battlefield. Taemar could feel the pulse of the battle, thumping in his ears. The sound of men killing and dying around him. Screams of agony pierced the soul of even the strongest men. Following the old teachings of his Mentor, he closed his eyes for a few seconds and calmed himself. Although the commander of the Death Guards, Taemar's weapon of choice was a pair of metal knuckles. He preferred his fist over all other weapons. However, this proved to be a disadvantage on a horseback. Taemar gesturing to his second in command who takes point when they fight on horseback. Moving into a wedge formation, they closed in on the enemy ahead. As they approached, the battlefield was a mess! Our soldiers surged against the impenetrable wall of lances created by the orcish soldiers serving the evil sorcerer. Taemar scanned the battlefield and found it. The side area where orcs and ogres stood beside each other. The hatred and loathing for one another cause them to stand ever so slightly apart from one another. Taemar pointed at that area and everyone understood what he meant. The charge had begun...


Standing before you is a man 6 feet tall. He is of a muscular stature, not big, but toned as if he has been training his muscles fervently. He shaves his hair completely every morning and lacquer it to perfection. He is bald and happy to be so. He has a huge nose that covers almost a third of the width of his face. He eyes appear to be looking in different directions every time you look at him. However, his eyes seem to capture your soul every time you look at it, as if the Dark Lord himself resides deep inside him. He has a crooked smile that he shows every so often. A sinister smile that accompanies everything he says. His shoulders are broad but he hunches all the time. His body is filled with scars, one on the upper right side of his shoulder, the other on the left side of his abdomen. The scar on his abdomen seemed to be made by a sword while that on his right shoulder seemed to be made from a whip.

PK stats:

Kills: 0, Deaths: 3 (Ratio: 0, Efficiency: 0%)
Pinnacle Kills: 0, Pinnacle Deaths: 1 (Ratio: 0, Efficiency: 0%)

Kills by class:

Killed by class:
monk: 2,


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