Dyalg Lemseth's page

As an infant, Dyalg cried more than any of his older brothers and sisters ever did. Strange occurrences when Dyalg was nearby like slight drafts in a closed room, creaking doors, shutters that would suddenly bang open, sounds like faint voices or clashing swords coming from faraway, and his cradle rocking by itself lead his parents to seek the counsel of a local cleric that wandered the area helping the pastoral and farming communities.

She examined Dyalg and said he was cursed; haunted by spirits that died in various battles over the past four hundred years. They wouldn’t hurt the boy, merely inconvenience him. Worse though, she couldn’t remove the curse. In fact the gods themselves had marked him, for whatever reasons they may have. His parents vowed to raise him as well as they could, hoping that whatever his fate, he would meet it knowing he was loved.

His first word was “Charge!” As his vocabulary increased he would tell his parents that the voices were moaning, begging for mercy sometimes, other times cursing revenge. His favorite toys were sticks that he would use as swords. He liked wrestling and any competition of physical skill. Additionally, Dyalg loved to construct battlefields in the dirt with armies and units marked by seed pods, pebbles, and pieces of cork. Much to his parents’ aggravation, Dyalg wasn’t afraid to fight the village’s children. He didn’t typically initiate hostilities, but he wasn’t one to back away from older, bigger opponents if he felt they were in the wrong. He’d laugh sometimes saying, black eyes and split lips were lessons in learning how not to fight. Other parents in the village would bring their grief and frustration with the village children’s fighting to Dyalg’s parents.

At the age of seven, two visitors, Osnys and Worynn, came to visit the Lemseths. They claimed that Dyalg was the nineteenth incarnation of Ildin Polachy, the Divine General, the Yerechi Kel. Dyalg’s parents shook their head in ignorance. They had never heard of the Yerechi Kel. Osnys and Worynn said they had been seeking signs of the Yerechi Kel’s rebirth for the past seventeen years. They placed a collection of small items and asked Dyalg to choose one that he felt most drawn to. Dyalg selected small metal whistle which Osnys said was the previous Yerechi Kel’s whistle he would use in combat to signal his soldiers. They believe that combat and war can lead one to transcendence. They do not crave war and battle for its own sake; rather they train and fight as a means for self-discovery and improvement.

Within two days, Dyalg had convinced his parents that he should leave with these men. His parents thought a change of location might help Dyalg avoid the increasing complaints of fighting with the village children.

Dyalg left the rocky, pastoral hills of his birth and went with Osnys and Worynn across a wide plain and into a mountain range abutted against the sea. There, among a small company of clerics, rangers, and warriors known as the Venerable Warriors of Elonwa, his education began. He learned how to use weapons and armor; the finer points of siege weapons and wall defenses; how to ride a horse and how to heal one’s body under the rigors of training and battle. He also was drilled in the proper manner to speak to men above his station and below; how to inspire soldiers about to face a calvary charge; how to shake the confidence of men guarding a wall.

After a decade of training and education, Dyalg wanted to prove himself worthy of the honor of leading the company, so he wandered by himself for three years, attempting to find some of the relics left behind by prior Yerechi Kels. He succeeded in claiming the short sword that was the twelfth Yerechi Kel’s first weapon from a small noble family that had possessed it for nearly two hundred years. He acquired the dwarven crafted shield from a traveling band of halflings that sang legends of a dwarven prince (the sixteenth Yerechi Kel according to Dyalg’s information).

After three years he returned to the Venerable Warriors and selected a small group of six men to lead, learning the duties and responsibilities of command on a small scale before heading the organization in full. Life was good for two years. While serving as advanced scouts for Prince Henrick’s army, they were ambushed. Only Dyalg survived. His confidence broken, he knew there was much more to learn before he could take on the role of leader of the Venerable Warriors.

For four years he sought the solace of combat, the adrenaline of battle with little thought of the Venerable Warriors. This past year he served as a scribe for General Roban. One night assassins attacked the General and his family. Roban was paralyzed from the waist down in the attack. Without having the rank or legal authority to do so, Dyalg took command of a squad of city watch and rescued Roban’s daughter. In gratitude, Roban’s second son Marmoth pledged to follow him for two years. He is a cleric. General Roban retired to his estate to tend to his vines and bee hives.

For the past six months, Dyalg and Marmoth have wandered the area, living by their wits. He has received word from the Venerable Warriors that requires his attention. They say something may be brewing at Ironwall Gap and to ascertain what the problem is.