My name is Garth Gideon Kendrune, and my story... it just doesn't seem to be believable to most humans. I am an Amanthian Heretic. One of the few who freed ourselves from spiritual slavery over a century ago. I am from Amanthos, a place now known as the Daenlands, or more commonly as the Dark Chaos holds...
I was raised in a monastery to become one of the priests of our God King Athoras until the age of fifty, when I was given the task and had taken my vows. It was thirty years later that I had met the young man named... his name actually escapes me now, but he told me of the spirit shackles that bound our life force to the king, which made him immortal, a travesty. Our rebellion was quick and bloody, and only a handful of Amanthians were able to endure the spiritual depression when he was slain. It was from then on that I'd bear the mark of the heretic.
When I had turned 100, I had met a man named Keylik. He was my mentor for a long time as I trained with him and rose in the ranks of the Radiant Order chapter that protected High Fiona from the threat of the Dark Chaos. He had taught me much, the most important lesson being memory. "Never forget anything" he told me, "You will forget who you are."
The date... 13th Shattering Dawn, 1414 2E.
The Dark Chaos hordes had attacked our Bastion, our base of operations. We were... we were overrun. In the midst of the fighting, Keylik and I had lost almost every other Radiant Order member. We were the last. The event that makes this unbelievable to most now was the fact that I had spent some time in a nonexistent state. When the bastion was lost, so were we. We feel that we were taken to a different world... a world without the direct intervention of the gods or the ability to cast magic. The hardest tragedy to befall us was the loss of Keyliks memory, which he had regained during his final moments. His last message for me was simply a name... "Niall."
Home 
