I have walked on the paths of knowledge, and but sampled the intoxicating wine of its secrets. I have chased the glimmering flames of revelations with the passion of a love-struck lover. I have embraced truths that have toppled kingdoms and caused demons to weep in fear. This has been my life. I regret not the loss of wealth, for I have discovered a treasure far greater. I regret not the loss of days browsing through dust filled chambers, for I have become part of history. I regret not the loss of fame, for I have obtain a minute portion of the eternal story, and helped shape it. I regret not the loss of my life, for I have record all I have learned, seen, done, heard, thought, and lived.
I have walked roads that have crumbled under my feet. I have fought demons, dragons, and creatures from worlds that have never heard of man. I have seen sights that made my eye cry tears of blood, and stopped my heart. Sights of such beauty, I lost control of my emotions. Sights of such horror, my mind refused to remember. I have talked with Kings, fought with Paladins, slept with goddesses. I have lived many lives through the mercy of the gods. I have felt the pain of loss at the death of comrades, loves, and family. I have spilled my life upon the deserts, tundras, and wasteland of many worlds. Still, despite it all I am happy. For I have tasted the sweet nectar of knowledge and have a little understanding. For this, I have quested, and have no remorse.
These words of Shendair of Pikai have been themselves into my heart. This great scholar has firmly placed my feet upon the paths of knowledge. In honor of this seeker of truth, I, Karang of Kalak, continue my friend's search of knowledge. I hope that my humble writings may help some soul to find a small touch of enlightenment.
My past does not directly relate to my travels, but is important for the reader to understand my view point. Because of this I start my writings exploring my youth, and explaining the how I became a traveler, and seeker of knowledge. It is my hope that I am judged not on my life, or my writings, but my contribution to the vast expanse of history and greater world of knowledge. Thus said, I begin.
My father was the Grand Weaponsmith of the Kalak tribe. He was noted as being the best weaponsmith among the Ogre Mage people. It is he who taught me the love of metal shaping. This became my passion, for all I have ever known is the horror of warfare, and this I disliked. From the time I could walk, I have been trained to fight, mutilate, enslave, and torture. I have always despised this life, but knew nothing else, just a swirl of blood, violence, and decadence. All that kept me going was my love for shaping metal, and my honor: honor of my parents, tribe, and race.
Once, I made the mistake of speaking against the tribal ritual of slavery, and have since been branded as weak in body and mind. Because of this shame I brought upon my house, I worked even harder to be the best fighter, weaponsmith, and blacksmith in the tribe. My abilities have help to regain some of the stature I had so carelessly thrown away. I learned to carefully guard my words and actions, lest for some small reason, I bring more dishonor to my house.
My whole life changed the day the Spring War Festival. As part of a raiding party that attacked a passing caravan, I took a slave. It wasn't the taking of the slave that change my life, for it wasn't my first. But it was the human that I captured that brought a glimmer of light to my blackened soul. It was more luck than skill that allowed me to capture him, for it was apparent that he was a user of magic with more than a little skill. He needed to be removed quickly, or my raiding party would be decimated. I had been knocked from my feet by a tremendous blast early in the fight. When I raised my head some minutes later, the wizard was standing by me preparing to unleash more deadly magic. A simple swing of the fist removed his consciousness from him (it is amazing how frail humans can be).
The human's name was Shendair, of the Wu Jen class. Many spells had to be woven about him by the Shamans, to keep him captive to the tribe. His pride and spirit fascinated me, and as I watched him through the weeks, I came to respect him. He refused to allow himself to be treated as a slave, and insisted that he be looked upon as an equal. Because I had captured him, it was my place to care for him. Through this care, I came to learn his tongue and culture. He saw in me a desire to be more than I was, and nursed the spark into a tiny flame. He showed me the world of knowledge and magic. He taught me to see things differently than I had before, and my desire for knowledge raged in my soul. After a few years had passed, my only friend escaped. Finger were pointed at me, though I had nothing to do with it (though my new found friendship may have blinded me to the signs). This blame coupled by my hunger for knowledge drove me from my tribe into my search for knowledge and my friend.
Thus I, Karang, of the Kalak tribe begin my quest for knowledge and greater learning. May the celestial beings guide me on the roads of my dreams, and open my eyes to the wonder of the hidden world.
Three days out of my tribe, I entered into territory that was unfamiliar to me. My excitement was so great that I was unable to sleep that night. Instead, I practice meditating and studies my scroll book. It seems so inadequate to what is out there awaiting to be discovered.
I have avoided towns and villages, knowing the reaction that would greet me were I to enter. This was not a problem with the scarcity of people who desire to live near my brothers.
A light bluish green skin with black fingernails, dark blue eyes with white pupils. Two 12" ivory horns on forward section of the head, and gleeming white teeth.