Zyron the Grand Master of SeasonsZyron created on 20th of November 2022, and is currently 29 years old (125 hours played).
Title: the Grand Master of Seasons
Class: human monk
- The Form of Anger - posted at 2023-06-25 12:55:18
The Form of AngerFor all his life, Zyron has been vessel to an anger without form.
Abandoned as a youth on the streets of Seringale, the monks of the Monastery
took him in out of 'kindness'. The beatings, the starvation, the forced
silence, were all meant to teach the boy discipline, to gain mastery over
his mind, body and soul. The monks took note of Zyron's bursts of anger and
aggression, of how he would need to be pried off of his sparring partners
before he had beaten every last drop of blood from their body. But for too
long, the old monks of the monastery believed that they could tame the boy's
wrath and bring his ki into alignment with his true self.
Zyron was a young man upon his prime before the monks realized it was too
late. In his final test upon recognition as a martial monk, Zyron was
tasked with defending himself against a score of men. He showed no
restraint, spilling the life blood of each his victim's in turn, reveling in
each of their passings with a cold fury. Five of the men fell dead, and
another ten were gravely injured before the grandmasters themselves stepped
in to restrain Zyron. Knowing he was beyond their aid, they banished him to
a dungeon from which none escape - Tyr Unguld, in the Marshes west of
None report on what happened to Zyron within the confines of that fortress.
But in only three years, he emerged from its depths with something new... A
zeal for the blood of his enemies, an aimless anger at the world around him,
now given form.
Intense and bearing a brooding disposition, the man you see before you
appears to have endured a lifetime of hardship. He carries a stocky,
muscular frame, standing at just over six feet tall. The light armor and
hides he wears does little to conceal numerous jagged scars stretched taut
over bulging muscles. His hands are cracked and caloused, like the surface
of an ancient stone tempered by the elements over millennia. His bald head
is covered in sweat, dirt, and the faded-black remnants of tattoos in an
ancient cuneiform. The skeletal structure of his face bears a bladed beard,
jutting downwards from his face to frame an imposing jawline. About his
thick neck and over his muscular traps, he bears a series of massive prayer
beads that chime ominously with his every movement.
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