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[Dormack Shander]

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(Based on when the paladins took over Charnel Hill)

The letter had arrived spontaneously that morning. The sky was dark, beads of rain splashed down against the steps. A low rumble echoed against the walls of the tower that was built against the mountain of Umbra. A dark shadow stood broad on the balcony, over looking the land was filled with chaotic mist, and intruding paladins.

The raven landed on his shoulder and dropped a parchment into his hands. Dormack carefully read over it, bewildered at first, but gradually catching on. He nodded to himself, and let the raven fly off into the rain once more.

“My brother?” he mouthed silently.

Shortly after he received the letter, Dormack rode away from Umbra. The chaos could be easily controlled, and they didn’t need him to run the paladins off of Charnel Hill, they only needed Oblivion.

Days passed, one after another as he made way across the lands. His brother was located somewhere in the fellucian lands. He couldn’t be sure whether it was a trap or not, his parents never told him of another child, but it was a chance he was willing to take. If it were a trap, he’d merely kill the man.


* * *

The serpent slithered along the ground, in pursuit of Dormack. Blitz was his magical pet, summoned at any time of need. They worked their way into the darkest forest of the fellucian lands; they didn’t stop until the time felt right. Blitz front rose off the ground, supporting himself with the end of his tail. The acid dripped from his fangs as he hissed towards the on comer. Slowly the man grew closer, closing the space between Dormack and him. Dormack snapped his fingers, and Blitz disappeared.

“You have arrived, just as I had hoped.” Spoke the man.

“Indeed I have, is there something I can do for you?” Dormack asked, not braking eye contact.

“It may occur slightly unbelievable that I’m your brother, but there’s more to the story than the letter had mentioned. I was born exactly fifteen years prier to the day you were. I was banished from my home, our home, for acts of treason against the town. I had committed a murder, at only the age of fifteen. Your parents raised you with hope that’d you’d turn out different. To bad for them.”

Dormack nodded slowly, taking in all of the current information. It made sense to him; his parents had hated all things that were not pure. If they didn’t follow they ways of chivalry, or anything to do with knighthood, or the holy priest hood, than they were deviations.

“Did you ask me here just to tell me this?” Dormack asked, growing impatient.

“No, I told you to come here because I wanted to teach you something, and the laws of this world forbid me to leave. There fore I couldn’t have come to you. It has occurred to me, with the work of hired eyes, that you are a warrior. You follow the path directed by Lord Oblivion.”

Dormack nodded in agreement.

“Let me teach you a different way, the way of the arcane arts. Your blade is swift, along with your connection to the dead. I wish to teach you something new however. Keep your swift blade, but learn magic, alchemy, and a secret tactic to slow your opponent.”

The two exchanged words for a short while after. They reached an agreement, that Dormack would learn the ways of the dark magic’s, from his brother, a brother who was not only a murderer, but as ruthless as he was.

[Dormack Shander]

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After days of preparation, the training began. Dormack and Kestrel, his brother, had started the training. It wasn’t a hard process, it was easy enough for Dormack to grasp that knowledge of how to cast spells. Each day however, he slowly lost his ability to communicate with the undead, an attribute he’d have to lose.

Kestrel was impressed with his brother’s progression. Each day Dormack would learn something different, how to poison his blade, how to mix remedy’s together for potions, and the arcane magic’s.

A somber area surrounded Kestrel’s home, the area was cluttered with other houses, but the occupants knew to stay as far away from his home as possible. Weeks had gone by since Dormack had left Umbra, and weeks had gone by since he was a warrior. It was time for his journey home tomorrow he would leave.


* * *


The morning came quickly; the sun had barley raised in the dusk sky. Dormack woke first and made his through the house. He nudged open a door, letting out a quiet creaking noise. He stepped into the room and made his way towards a large stone table. There was his pastel and bowl, and his regents. He crushed the regents up into a fine powder, than poured it into a container. He lit a small flame below the container and allowed the powder to melt into liquid. He poured the green liquid into a bottle and observed it carefully. He nodded slightly to himself and held out a blade, he cautiously poured the acidy liquid onto the blade. It sizzled and bubbled for a moment, than settled.

Dormack walked noiselessly up the stairs and down the hall, he approached the large wooden door and kicked it open. Kestrel leapt to his feet, he knew what was about to happen. He hollered a series of spells, trying to catch Dormack off guard. It was no use however, Dormack waved his hand and casted quicker spells, weakening and making Kestrel clumsier than normal. He quickened his pace towards Kestrel, slinging the blade down from his wrist holster and into his palm. He lunged through the air and lodged the blade deep into Kestrel’s throat. He coughed violently, Dormack unsheathed his cutlass and cut open Kestrel’s stomach, causing him to bleed uncontrollable. He stepped back to admire his quick work, than snapped his fingers and spoke a couple quick words. Flames erupted around Kestrel, setting his clothes on fire.

Dormack spun on his heel and left the room behind, letting his brother crumble to his death. He had no room for anyone in his past; this included anyone with ties to his family. It was now time to head home.


* * *

He returned to an Umbra that seemed slightly different than before. The temple was rebuilt into an even more astonishing structure, The Ebon Skull reclaimed Charnel Hill, and new slaves were in place.

The people of Sosaria didn’t fear The Order of The Ebon Skull like they had before, but that would soon change. Dormack smirked slightly and tilted his head cracking his neck. He would continue living around the tower that they had retreated to for so long. That, would be his new base of actions.

“What else has changed?” He asked out loud.