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Kyrian Thilantira
Posted: 21 Feb 2006 09:48 PM |
((This'll be a work in progress for a new character I'm making. I'm unsure about whatever the virtues of the Asashi are, so I've tried to stay off it, but if there are any conflicting ideas/ways my PM box is always open ))
Kyrian Throïsar Thilantira
----Monk of the Asashi
A small introduction
Some heroes have long stories of how they turned heroes. The death of their family, a stolen family heirloom, or even the destruction of all they had held dear. It is almost expected nowadays for one who travels, like many, to have some sad tale to share about his past. An abusive father for example, or a mother who had to sleep with men to feed her child, all those kinds of things made one think whether any of the adventurers were actually normal. There were exceptions however. Some merely saw it as something nice to do, and decided willingly to become one, and did not undergo chaos and destruction or otherwise, something that worked against him. Perhaps the most ‘normal’ of all adventurers were the monks. Following ancient tradition, and most of them having been trained from birth, they kept away from society and did as they wished.
Countless hours of meditation are common in the life of a monk, but it is not frowned upon when one decides to rather put those hours in things such as studying and/or other arts practiced. And a few exceptions, who are not frowned upon either, decide to rather think about other things; things that are quite strange to think about. Some monks decide to sit cross-legged and spend hours watching nothing more then the world around them. They listen to the footsteps of the younger apprentices, and then they compare that with the heavy footsteps of a visiting ‘hero’. And then, they evaluate both sounds and find the things they are the same in, and the things they differ from. And then, slowly, they think of the past. How that heavy walk came to be as it was today. And when they were finished with evaluating that, they would continue to evaluate and draw conclusions out of the things their wise minds had weaved. And then, finally, they thought of the future. How that heavy walk would continue on, how it would progress, and perhaps how it would finally turn soft again. Interesting to think about, no?
Other monks, equally as wise as the others, thought of different things. They sat down and watched a wheel – sometimes a broken one and sometimes one newly made - and started then to think about how it had become like what it was now, what techniques it had undergone, and also, what the maker was like and if it showed. The Elven monk named Kyrian was no exception to such simple pleasures. With all he encountered, he made up questions for himself that would take some time for him to solve, and made silent bets with himself whether or not he could figure it out. But eventually, he became a bit bored. It was not as if he did not enjoy looking at things that all considered normal but which he considered something incredibly beautiful. He wished more then watching chairs and butterflies. He was quite admired for his persistency in devotion to the path of Illumination, but many also felt a slight sense of unease in his presence. He had something mystic about him that other brothers and sisters in the Asashi teachings tried to suppress.
A respected monk did not feel any need to leave the monastery. It was an honor to be there after all, and not one place was as fitted for a monk to do his meditation as the monastery they now had built many years ago. But Kyrian was curious to see that world he had never seen yet – for over two-hundred years he had seen no more then the outer walls of the monastery. Not that he had longed for it in those years. He found enough pleasure in even the simple cobblestones of the beautiful monastery. But something inside him kept bubbling up. It was quite annoying for him at times. In his many hours of meditation, several minutes of it was devoted to imagining how the outer world would look like. Perhaps it seems little, those couple minutes in the countless minutes, but it kept breaking his concentration. It was like one of those irritating mosquitos in the middle of the night, which woke you up and never let you sleep again. It began to slowly set him even more apart from his brothers and sisters. He used to be quite popular for his unusual views, and his handsome Elven appearance also attracted extra female company, which he always kindly declined however. But those people seemed to stop coming also when the masters began to realize he was changing, turning from a devoted inner monk, to one who began to yearn for the joy (and horrors) of adventuring.
How he began the road to Illumination
Kyrian was from a noble family of Elves. All fiercely loyal to Aros, like many Elves, they first saw a grand future in the idea of him also him being raised in the ways of Aros. But the elderly brother of Kyrian, Borian, was of the rebellious sort and soon stepped away from the teachings of Aros to serve one of the human Gods, which brought a great shame upon the noble family. They decided to instead send their youngest son into deep isolation in the ranks of the Asashi. It was not something they really were proud of, but they accepted this sooner then the shame Kyrian’s older brother had caused them. The name of the family was Thilantira, a noble family like many others, respected but not envied. If there would be classes in the level of nobility, the family of Kyrian would be in the middle – certainly not the lowest, but far from the highest also. They never spoke to Kyrian again – they also requested that he was not to be sent back to them if he proved to be unfitted for the life of a monk. The monks agreed, seeing immediately a promise in the boy’s forest-green eyes, and took him as their own.
The one to be appointed as his mentor was an elderly Elven. She was not exceptionally good at what she was, but she seemed perfect for the boy, as she had little duties to the Asashi order and could pay enough devotion to the boy who needed attention in his younger years. Somewhere, for unknown reason, she failed to give him the needed love and teachings of emotions. Kyrian turned in a strange boy, who had no friends, and spend most of his times meditating. Especially when he was around the age of 150, other female Elves of his age tried to start a relationship with him, but he lacked the understanding of emotions to deal with such. He waved them off, closing the door right in their face when they came to his room, and shooed them off when they interrupted his duties. His mentor seemed to be only proud of this, feeling good about the fact that the boy had nothing else to care about then his monk duties. It had an ill side-effect however. When his mentor finally died, at the honorable age of eight-hundred, he was greatly respected by people - but also terribly distant. When meetings arose to discuss recent events, Kyrian ignored all invitations – he had no need for anything except the joy of meditating.
Kyrian enjoyed reading. It was his greatest hobby besides meditation, and also spent hours reading books and also, occasionally, painted. He never considered himself really good, but talent was certainly there, although the skill remained undeveloped due to his lack of devotion to the art. The older he grew, the more he relied on his meditating. He found peace and the slightest hints of emotions in the imaginary plains he traveled. All his knowledge from the outside world was out of the books, he had never seen anything beyond the gates of the Asashi Monastery. At the age of one-hundred and ninety, he was told of the path all monks eventually seek – the Illumination or a more popular phrase, the Enlightenment. He was astounded when he heard that it was beyond one’s greatest imaginations and that when a monk had ascended, he could literally shape the very earth around him as he wished it so. Enemies were soon dealt with, battle seemed to slow down to know better what was going on, and agility and strength were beyond comparison. From that moment on, he knew nothing else then the wish of being one of those rare monks to reach his Inner Light. He frowned however when the teacher continued, telling him about that Enlightenment was only achieved when one did more then meditating. One had to see the world to touch his inner soul; one had to have experience with all sorts of things. Kyrian, for the first time then, felt a strong grip around his emotionless heart. Fear took hold of him, fear for the unknown, fear for that which he had only read about. The outside was a dangerous place, according to the books, people were not afraid to turn against each other and break their inner peace in their quest for power and riches. If such a thing were true, if things were not all as peaceful as it was in the monastery, how was he to survive out there? He had no experience with combat; he never had need to either. But, as the teacher said, he would have to if he were to be any good at what he did.
He had no choice however. If he wished to be Enlightened, he had to put all his effort in to it. Gone was the endless meditation, and half of his time now was spend on hardening his muscles and training his body. The warriors of the Asashi were quite surprised to see the pious monk Kyrian turn in a tough and experienced warrior, who could handle himself in combat. It was clear though, that his lack of training in his youthful years would have negative effects now that he wished to be good in battle. He had started far too late with training his muscles, and they had grown used to little exercise, and he would never possess the same strength some of the warriors had in the ranks of the Asashi. Instead, he began to focus on his agility. Used to strange sitting positions, Kyrian was nimble as a snake – his astounding agility sparked quite some pride in the one assigned to train him. He dodged blows easily, but when he was hit, it hurt badly and Kyrian tried not to show. He received the advice to perhaps give it up and stay with the meditating, but he gave an offensive glance and continued beating up the sack of hay. His persistency was more then admirable. So it went on, for at least until another ten years, until we are today. |
-Londo Bywater, halfling warchanter
Londo's diary
Definition of a warchanter: A warrior that likes to sing a rhythm so he can hit harder and more accurately. |
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