Rite of Passage

(Another character related post about Kharask's past)

Kharask was taken into the wastes. It was night, and the surrounding lands were barren and vacant, a sharp coolness in the air gave any lurking vegetation a crispness as the three dragonborn closed on there destination. Kharask was 15 years old. He had done most of his warrior training, and had seen a fair share of combat in recent years. He was still in training as a warlord, but a week ago his training was halted. He was forced to undergo ritual fasting, and had to remain away from his people during that time. Kharask knew of this ritual, it was an older version of the dragonborn rite of passage. In the days of old, a century or two after the fall of Arkhosia, the dragonborn began a grueling rite to test there young. This rite was created to show the elders if there kind was destined to survive, or to fade into oblivion. It was harsh, and after many decades of this, the original rite was abandoned. If a dragonborn was hatched that seemed to have a great destiny, or an incredibly poor destiny, this rite was sometimes used, either to weed out the week, or to decorate the strong. The rite had the dragonborn fast and forego any physical excersise. This left the dragonborn weak. At the end of the seven days, the dragonborn was taken into the wastes and placed within the center of a circle of stones. A ritual was placed on the stones taht would tell the seers if the dragonborn wandered or if the dragonborn was killed. The dragonborn was to be placed within the stones, and then must stay there for three days. The morning of the fourth day two elders would retrieve the dragonborn, or his body if he had been killed. What made this rite dangerous was the fact that the dragonborn must be placed a full days travel outside of the tribes territory. Many dragonborn did not survive this version of the rite of passage.
Kharask was led by his two elders to the circle of stones. One of them directed him into the center of the stones, and Kharask entered and took a seat. The elders spoke a word as he entered, and the stones seemed to glow a bit, the elders then left him to his fate, never speaking a word to him. It had just grown dark, and Kharask focused his mind. He regarded this challenge as an almost religious experience. Surely Bahamut had sent word of praise to his elders to have them perform such a dangerous rite upon him. Live or die, Kharask would have the honors of going through such a rite, and it was a rare privelage. His mind faded into and out of consciousness on that first evening, and before long it had grown pitch black. No moon was there to comfort the dragonborn, though secrets be told, his sight was never very good to begin with. Several times during the evening he had heard rustling, and he thought he had heard some kind of screaming. He understood this was probably animal noises, but he was also in unknown territory, so remained tense regardless. When it became the deepest part of the night, when the world seemed at its most hidden from him, when the very night became silent and the wind refused to blow, it was at this time that he heard a voice in the darknes.
"Who are you young one, and why are you here" The voice came out of nowhere, and it was powerful and close, but there was nothing to be seen, darkness covered everything. Kharask only hesitated a moment in his response. "I am Kharask Torn-Flames. I am dragonborn. I am here for my rite of passage. To prove it worthwhile for me to live" There was a moment of silence that seemed to go on forever. The powerful voice answered. "Rest easy Kharask Torn-Flames, this is my domain. I will allow you this time to complete your rite. No creature will harm or disturb you." the voice ended, and there was silence. Kharask expected more conversation, but none came that evening. The darkness faded into daylight, and kharask centered his mind, time slipped by slowly, but nothing disturbed him. He saw no animals, birds and he saw no signs of enemies. The daylight eventually faded again, and it was in the deepest part of the night that Kharask heard that heavy voice. "Has your stay been pleasant in my domain?" The heavy voice seemed interested in the response, and Kharask responded quickly. "This journey was not to be pleasant. But i am not dead yet, and have but one more night before my rite is completed. As you have said, i have not been disturbed." Kharask thought he heard something shifting, but that was the only other sound he heard that evening. As the night faded away in the presence of daylight, Kharask began to succumb to his extending fasting. He could not see clearly, and would pass out from time to time for an unknown duration. He awoke with a start on the third night. It was pitch black, but he had a sense of vertigo, no doubt the lack of food and water. A voice erupted from the night. "I asked if you were dead young dragonborn?" it was the voice, and Kharask answered, though his voice was weak now. "I am not dead yet." The voice responded a moment later. "Your time is now up Kharask Torn-Flames. In the morning you will leave, or you will die in the night time." Kharask nodded, although he doubted any creature could see in such a lightless place. "I will begone from your domain in the morning, and will bother you no more. My thanks for your passage." The voice spoke a few moments later. "Tell your elders that Ginteth the blue, Great Sky-Reaver of the east, has spared you." Kharask had heard that name before. He played the name back in his mind. It hit him. Tuk'vuneth, the great seer that had passed away five years ago had supposedly slain a dragon named Ginteth the Blue. He spoke out to the voice, but Kharasks words were silent, his mind faded from consciousness, and he floated into oblivion once more. When kharask awoke, he was back within his tribe. Young dragonborn were tending him, although kharask already felt some of the strength back in his body. Within the hour he went before his elders, he was decorated for his passing of the trial and a feast was prepared for him. After he was congratulated by his elders, he spoke the words that the strange voice had told him to repeat. The elders looked at one another, and then looked at Kharask. "Ginteth the blue is dead. The great seer Tuk'vuneth along with several of the most powerful dragonborn warriors ever assembled set war upon him. Only the great seer returned. Do not speak these words to others, for the memory of Tuk'vuneth is a sacred one, and should not be sullied. Sometimes the night winds play tricks upon you young one. I am sure that is the case." Kharask nodded and made his way towards his feast. Soft words, feather light reached his ears as he made his way from the elders. ".. and sometimes dragonborn, the trick is closer to home.." Kharask turned back, but disregarded the strange words. His mind was full of thought, and he needed his strength back.


ok, thats my character post. I'll have more soon i bet.