Zarr

Name: Zarr Titus Elderen Age: Fourty-two Gender: Male Alignment: Monarchy Class: The king of Venn

Appearance: The Witch King, The Usurper of Venn, Zarr. He stands head and shoulders above many of his most valiant men, with eyes as black as coal, and skin sun kissed, though he is rarely to be sighted outside of his citadel, deep within the ancient city of rjta. His torso is trim, his arms bulging. Zarr has kept himself mentally and physically in peak condition as he continues to

pursue his kingly whims. His face holds host to a crimson red tattoo embedded upon his left cheek, abstractly forming the shape of a hawk with a single black eye. He constantly maintains a cropped beard, and a full head of short, cobalt black hair. Atop his head rests the crown ordered by himself to be forged for his coronation, using the melted down royal jewels that held linages that linked some of them to some of the finest Elven and Dwarven smiths to ever live. The New crown, formed to look like the head of a phoenix, with its wings splayed wide, two ruby gems for each of the eye sockets, and crafted from solid gold, with the wings coated in textured silver. The crown was a symbol of his line upon the throne and a foreshadowing of his feelings towards the other dominate races.

Personality: Zarr is Alpha Male, he has never followed others, always taking the lead in things. Zarr might have at one time valued human life, not any longer. The nobles, the peasants, they do not see what is truly best for them or their children. They cannot, they are shortsighted, and full of emotions they allow to run wild. It takes a truly great leader to make the hard decisions; to do what no other wises to do. In time, all will bow down and thank him for his great service to

human kind. The time of the other races is drawing to a close, it is time for the Humans to unite, under his wise and strict leadership, and dominate the world, with him as their leader. Death, it is something others appear to fear most vehemently, murder, killing. Isa has aided in opening his eyes, though such thoughts had already taken root long before their meeting. Why does it matter if a child is killed, if it saves thousands more? A woman, a man? One single person cannot stand in the way of change, and revolution. Isa has been the ear piece he never had, Anastasia is what she is, he would never think to harm her, and she is far from the air head he knows the pompous oafs flaunting around their round stomachs, and fine clothes they hold so dearly. Isa understands him, his plans, and his ambitions. All are cogs in his master plan, and no valiant fools, believing they are superior to him will get in his way. History: Zarr was born and raised within the noble society of the kingdom of Venn. The house was no the most powerful, richest, or influential of the houses, but it was a respected house none the less. He was the sole heir to house Elderen, and as such received the greatest tutors the house could afford. Zarr was trained in all the various Arts of Chivalry, and at the age of six discovered to one of the few humans blessed with the skills of magic. Politics became a central role within the boys learning, and while he exceled when an effort was made. It was more likely to find the boy, bursting with energy somewhere on the families sprawling estate, busying himself with the natural world or playing games with the other children of the house. As he aged, his energy turned towards a more rebellious side, he had always been a fiery lad, and it seemed only to increase as he entered his teens. He was an eloquent speaker, and it was soon clear that if the family could manage to iron out some of the boys Rough Edges he would soon bring the house much political clout, even as the lands beneath them dropped further and further into dissent and turmoil.

That is when it happened, Zarrs father, Lord Elderen made arrangements for the boy of Seventeen to enter the kings army. There he would finally learn to curb his tongue, and respect his elders, while making a way for the lad to vent himself physically and mentally. Alas, the plan was doomed to back fire. Zarr despised his family and house for sending him away, taking the young man away from everything and everyone he had ever known. Eventually Zarr found he enjoyed the military, they pushed him mentally and physically beyond what he believed he could do along with giving him the skills he would need to survive in the harshest of situations. As Zarr turned the age of eighteen, he was asked home by his house, leave being given by the king himself, at his familys request. Zarr had risen quickly in the ranks; his magical dabblings giving him an edge, with his cunning mind, and his silver tongue. He returned to a heros welcome, a feast held in his honor. Returning from the life of a soldier, albeit one of high social rank, was not as easy an adjustment for Zarr as it could have been. He was happy to be back with his family, and news that a fianc had been found were both more than an interesting turn of events. Yet, he found it hard to be idle as Noble life was compared to that of a solider. In the passing months, he was soon betrothed to the ever fair Anastasia, a woman of exceptional beauty and a mind that was more than agile enough to match his own, they were a surprisingly well matched couple, and it was not long after that they moved away from his Families Estate to one of their own. Eventually he would inherit his fathers fortune, but for now he would live on the fund that was allotted to him. Zarr eventually returned to the Kings Militia, and for the next four years rose in prominence to the rank of Sergeant.

His wife bore him two children during those years of sweet memories, and Zarrs fascination with the Arcane arts seemed to only intensify as his rise in rank allowed for more spare time. Zarr had his whole life ahead of him, he would one day be a retired general, head of House Elderen, with a beautiful daughter, and a son as his heir. He would dominate the kingdoms politics and bring glory to his familys lineage and name. At least that was what he imagined to be the extent of his life, the reality was far from it. Things had gone well, a promotion was soon to be in order, then news came of creatures moving out from The Grnn Wastes in the north. It was more than likely a raid of bandits from the north, who had scared the locals a superstitious lot into believing they were something more. That is not to say that the men of the North were any less fearsome, they are brutal, savage men. With bodies and strength that far surpass many of the men that hold residence within the more gentle lands of Venn. The fighting was short lived; Zarr was a natural commander, and a born leader. The Wild men of the North were easily hunted down, and his Calvary took out many of the men in a single swoop. As the fighting came to a close, half naked bodies strewn on the earth, mingling with their own pools of blood, Zarrs men celebrated. It was then that all he had known was truly shattered, Zarr had grown different as he aged, and the strictness of the Kings Army had done just as his Father had hoped it would. There was one time, when Zarr would lose such control, when drinking. The celebration went on late into the night, and Zarr had far more than his feel of strong drink. It was then that his men, with loosened tongues began to speak openly about the plight of their homeland. Sickness plagued cities, people were starving, and eventually one way or another one of the dumber of the men let his mouth run about Zarrs sweet Anastastia. It was no secrect he had a beautiful wife, and many of the men had spotted her at one moment or another. The drunken soilder began to get crude, and Zarrs anger soon boiled over with the release that the alcohol bayed him.The two men

began to scuffle, the smaller dumber man, managing to land a few blows upon his commanding officer, only furthering his rage which was quickly flying out of control. It was only in sheer luck that Zarr did not kill himself, his muddled mind could have easily miss-pronounced one of the arcane words, or the spell could have easily drained him of his life force. The mans veins engorged with blood, and his mouth and eyes soon ran over with the crimson liquid that once ran through his veins. The drunken solider writhed in agony upon the dusty earth, as he slowly bled to death due to Zarrs spell. It was something he had been studying; he never intended to use it, at least not without just cause, for it was the forbidden sort of magic. Once the spell was uttered, nothing could stop it, and the next day Zarr awoke to his men with weapons pointed at the ready, blood having stained his tunic, and hands. There was no question as to what had happened, and the men how feared him deeply. Normally this sort of thing would have been dealt with a slap to the wrist; he was a noble of course. They had rights above that of the common peasants, but the man Zarr had murdered was the son of the most influential house of the time, and the news soon spread that Zarr was his murder. The house pressed for charges, and in the end, there was nothing to be done. His honor ruined, his ranks stripped, and he himself banished along with his young family from the land they called home. Stripped of any possessions except for those they could carry on their backs.

Zar considered fleeing to the Dwarven city of BalVold, they would surely allow them to at least stay for a while. The Wastes were so close though, and they would have to follow the oceans edge to keep away, which hosted its own dangers, including recent rumors of Mermaid sightings in the Area. No, Zarr would go to the North, the people were hardy there, he knew so by those he had fought. The trek was long, and arduous and as they made their way north, his

wife and two very young children. The baby boy, his heir, began to get sick, as did his young daughter, they had carried the children for much of the trip, their horses have long died of exhaustion, and cold. It was only by the skills Zarr had learned while in the Army that the family made it as far as they had, and as they neared Holly Pass, so close. A snow storm blew in, sending the couple to take shelter within a cave. It was here that Zarr realized his son had died, his body cold, and pale. Rigid in his mothers arms, he tried to pry the dead child from his precious Anastasia, only to have her fight him. His anger grew, his grip like steel pincers as pried the child from its mothers arms, in the freezing night, tears fell liberally down the once proud noble mans face. He held the child himself for some time, and as the storm died down, they did what they must down, the snow to thick. They buried him in a snowbank, several feet deep and parted ways. Their daughter was soon to follow her baby brother, taken by fever. Zarr Cursed the gods, cursed the King of Venn, and all who had sent his children to their deaths. Life went on, though, Zarr never forgot how he had been the cause of the loss of his family, his wife had nothing, she was not used to such a life and it took her much time to adjust. Zarr was far from used to such a life himself, and the back breaking labor of day to day life was a new experience that allowed the couple to forget. Though each time his eyes laid upon his precious wife, the loss would rise up to his throat once more, and for half a moment he was not sure how he still managed to survive. Life flowed on, as it does for everyone. So too did Zarr and Anastasias, they made a living for themselves slowly gaining the trust of the Northern Tribes, at least enough to trade with. Eventually they even had children once more, first came a son. Another boy with eyes that Zarr felt he could see the night sky in, then another child, and another. Two boys, and a young girl. During this time, around the birth of the first boy, a mysterious woman appeared, she

fascinated Zarr. She was clearly a witch, a powerful witch. Their meeting had been strange, she appeared young, very young. Though Zarr was to intelligent to be so simple, she was old, far older then any being he had ever met. Isa that was the witches name, she fascinated Zarr, she knew things, things that he could never comprehend. Eventually she began to reveal herself to him, then came the promises. Promises of power, revenge, knowledge. She offered him what he needed, the tools to force all men to bow their knee to him, whether they chose to or not. He would learn from her, raise his children, and make those that had wronged him pay a hundred fold for his losses. The years went by quickly, learning from the Witch Isa. The north tribes feared her, and stayed away from the family when they were able to. Zarrs magical strength grew mighty under unsettling gaze of Isa. He started to become distant from his family, much of his time spent studying and mastering the techniques, many lost, or forbidden, and most were combination of the two. It was then that Zarr made his move, little word came from the southern lands, though one thing had reached Zarrs Ears. Revolt, dissent was everywhere within the southern kingdom, the peasents were beginning to revolt. Zarr used his new powers of bewitchment, with his natural skills of leading, and honeyed words to snag the warriors of a one of the northen tribes. Mighty men, of great stature, half clothed, and hungry for the glory surely such a man as this would lead them towards their goal. Zarr gathered up his family, physically carrying Anastia half the way, and they began their assult upon the Northen most villages. Zarr was intelligent, the kingdom was a pot ready to boil over, and he masterfully gave speeches in each village and city he conquered. Keeping his men from pillaging the cities in excess, and soon garnered a peasant milita that far out numbered the men he had started the campain with. Cities errupted into blood baths, many nobles fleeing their

estates as the peasants rose up with word spreading a man from the north had come to liberate the people from the Tyrany of the preasent rule.

Zarr fought in all the of battles, and the skills that Isa had taught him, made him a god upon the field of battle. He swung his blade with the force of three men, felled soilders with a twitch of his wrist, and appeared to stop many a killing blow that men tried to inflict upon him.Though tales were soon spun of even greater feats that in reality were false. It was from these deeds Zarr would later earn the title of The Witch King. When the final march began upon rjta, Zarr entered the Ancient Palace with Isa at his side, a smug, confident look upon his face as he systematically slaughtered every man, woman and child that came in his path in cold Vengeance. The battle was a swift victory, many of the kings militia having changed sides when the first series of battles upon the Capital city sprung up. Zarr made it his sole duty to remove the Royal family from Existence, and also that of house that ordered his banishment in the first place. Thus this is how Zarr, The Usuper, The Witch King came into prominence, promising the people a new order, and the betterment of all men, despite their social class. Anastasia remained by his side through it all. Their two sons being crowned princes, and their daughter a princess, rising up from the murky void of banishment. Now came the true plans of Zarr, discovery of cannons caught the attention of the The Witch Kings eyes, and he soon began another bloody war with the southern city of Jewelstine, and it neighbors. His hunger for power was unceasing, Isa had told him up the opulence that the dwarves lived in, and their ancient city filled with Artifacts that might allow him to perform what he now obsessively had come to study in the

coming months of his reign. Time wore on, the peasants settled back in, as did many of the nobles, and Zarr continued his plans, dissent soon spread, through both the noble houses that remained, and the current population. Many of the men though were busy, fighting the wars Zarr had plunged them into, an intelligent move if he said so himself. They did not see the grand picture, his world would take time, many would perish, but that is how the world works. In the end, it would be better, for everyone. The noble houses began to fund, quietly a small force that had risen up against his hold. This was to be expected, in times of crisis such things occur, unfortunately they were becoming tenacious, and word had even spread they had allied with the Dwarves, and Desert Cities. This infuriated Zarr, and he began to quietly order the deaths of Nobles suspected of treason against him. Thus it has been eight long years of Zarr Titus Elderens rule, filled with great bloodshed, and broken promises. Ambitions: Zarr seeks to enact his own plans upon his people, and the rest of the world. Current Residence?: rjta. Zarr Titus Elderen/42/Human/Alignment/Username