Aelden Cormallen's page

Aelden was born to adventure. He and his brother Galdan knew early that they would one day grow up to be great heroes. And so they did. They traveled the land, always searching for the next great adventure. Aelden was a natural swordsman, while Galdan took to the tenets of his faith like no other. Together with their compatriots Essena the sorceress, and Killiae the rogue, they became as successful an adventuring group as there had ever been.

Over time Aelden grew close to Essena, and the two became inseparable. Her arcane art combined with his swordplay was a thing of beauty, and it was this skill that saved the group in many a dark place. It was whispered by the commonfolk that they were destined to be as great as any of the heroes of old, and soon enough, they came to believe the whispers. Nothing could stop them, they believed, nothing!

In a dark tomb, deep under the mountains, it would all come crashing down.

Perhaps it was overconfidence, perhaps it was carelessness, no one will ever know. But they never saw the wight until it was too late. Flushed with their success over the mindless undead they faced, they did not know it was amongst them until Galdan was dead. Seconds later, Essena had joined the priest on that dark path of death. Aelden could not reach them, his way barred by the zombie minions of the horrid wight. In his attempt to save Killiae, he had moved too far away to aid them when they needed it most.

Driven to near madness by the deaths of his brother and his true love, he fought like a madman, hewing left and right to reach the evil creature. Then as he reached the wight and prepared to sell his life dearly, he saw motion out of the corner of his eye...could it be??

Near madness turned to abject horror as Galdan, and Essena, rose up as mindless zombie slaves of the wight. In a blind panic, he fled, Killiae's screams following him through dark halls, and always...always the sight of the two people he loved most shambling forward with that hellish green glow in their eyes...

No one really knows what happened next, for Aelden hung up his sword and took up the life of the craftsman. Burying his pain and his guilt in the ring of hammer on anvil, the clang of steel, and the soul-searing heat of the furnace.

Years passed, and Aelden has begun to feel that there is more for him to do, that his destiny is still before him. They would want it that way. All he needs now is a sign...