Role:

Fallen from Grace:
In the times following the creation of Thera, the first of the sentient races
began to walk the faces and many terrains of the land. They were composed of
various forms of gigantic humanoids that today are known as giants. Despite
there enormous size and intelligence, they ravaged the lands resources and were
cast from the 'Mortal Lands'. Those lucky enough to not fall so far from there
Lords graces as to be destroyed. It was at this time when the last of the giants
had fled Thera that they were commanded to sleep. And they did.

The centuries came and passed as the giants slept, hidden away from the wars
that took place in the 'Mortal Lands'. The wars between the Mages of Order and
Chaos. It was in there deepest desperation that these Mages sent ambassadors
into the mountains to awaken the giants from there slumber. In time these
giants, unbecoming to war, were deceived by Delleis the Deceiver and convinced
to take up arms against there own kin. Having legendary skills in battle, these
giants waged a nearly endless war that resulted in the near obliteration of the
cloud giant race. Having witnessed this, the Violet Spider poured into them an
intense fear and reverence of the Immortal, cursing them with a frailty to all
things Divine. Fearing for there lives, what remained of the cloud giant race
retreated back to the solace of the mountains and valleys outside of known Thera.


Mountain of the Forsaken:
Far to the North-East, beyond what is known to the Divine as 'Mortal Thera',
exists the last refuge of the cloud giants. A mountain whose peak dare reach
so high as to pierce the threshold of the Immortal. Upon this mountain, hidden
from the other sentient races, they have formed a massive society that has
become totally self-reliant.

Though they have been segregated from the 'Mortal Lands', these giants have
continued to train themselves in the arts of combat and war. And as before
they fled from the 'Moral Lands', they continue to be the extraordinary leaders
of inner-tribal clans. Mastering themselves both mentally and physically, they
prepare for the day that the Magi will return to deceive them once again.

Command of the tribal army is given to the single greatest chief among the
clans. The position is chosen by frontal combat in a series of duels. All clan
chiefs must fight one another in honourable combat and he who holds the most
wins is declared Commander of the Tribal Army.


Clan Tora'Gralkin:
Lead by clan chief Toratorin, clan Tora'Gralkin has taken the position of
Tribal Command for centuries beyond rememberance. Believed to be the only
clan to stand triumphant in the Arena, they have become proud and agressive
toward others who would belittle them or there kind. Unlike the other sword
baring clans, through the centuries they have come to master the more savage
forms of combat. Using blunt-balled and hacking weapons, the pride and brute
force of these savages is not something to be trifled with.

The newest addition to clan Tora'Gralkin is the prophesied son of Toratorin.
Kai'orin Tora'Gralkin, Toratorin's son was born at night under the the vision
of the full moon. Being rather large at birth his growth was not slowed in
time. By his twentieth name day he stood thirteen feet in height. A full foot
taller than his father. His superiority did not stop there. Kai'orin excelled
in his studies and even challenged his father for the right to become clan
chief.


Deception:
Yells and shouts of the invigorated crowd echoed throughout the inner city
as the time of challenge drew closer. Kai'orin glanced across the platform
at his father as they both strapped on pieces of steel-linked chain armor.
Looking up from fastening a chestplate he noticed that his father had taken
leave from the Forum. With desire to speak with his father before the fight,
he made his way to the outside of the Forum and heard...

...'Wzhabaruq djuqtunsouio.' Kai'orin looked beyond the Forums gate and saw
his father standing with a small, grey-skinned creature. From his studies
he quickly discerned the creature to be a gnome. 'The purpose behind this
spell is to vastly increase your motor skills. You will be able to parry
more deftly and strike more quickly. With the magic I have bestowed upon
you, your son will have no chance in defeating you. Like all the others
we have overcome' it spoke intellectual tones. 'Toratorin thank little mage.'
Kai'orin's eyes opened in astonishment as he watched his father take a side
entrance into the Forum.

Kai'orin watched as the grey-skinned gnome began walking toward where he hid
behind the Forum Wall. Easing a blunt-faced hammer in his massive hand, one
quick strike to the head crushed the gnomes skull and the little creature
fell silently to the ground. Lifting it up, he took the corpse of his fallen
advesary and hurled it over the Forsaken Cliff. He watched as the body fell
from sight before returning to the Forum and taking his first step up onto
the platform...

The smile on Toratorin's face was met with a glare from his son. As they met
at the center of the platform, Kai'orin grabbed his fathers chestplate and
pulled him closer. 'Does Kai'orin kill father? Or let live?' he growled into
his fathers ear. 'Why...' Toratorin began to respond but was interrupted by
a hissed 'Deceiver' from his son. A look of surprise came over Toratorin as
his son pushed him away and walked toward the outside of the platform...

Leave Taking:
A loud GONG echoed within the Forum as a large mallet of silver and gold
crashed down upon a large cylinder made of the same materials. Easing the
maces out of there belt loops, Kai'orin took one in each hand and rushed to
meet his father at the center of the platform. A wide-arched swing nearly
took off Kai'orin's head as he came in range. Nearly an hour had passed and
both father and son stood dripping blood and sweat to the platform stones...

Glaring at eachother from opposite sides of the platform, it was then that
Toratorin hunched over and fell to one knee. With a slight shake of his head,
Kai'orin walked over to his father and lifted him to his feet. 'Kai'orin win
challenge' he spoke in a slow and rumbling voice. He then took a large knife
from his belt and cut a single gash across the palm of his hand. Gripping a
fist, he opened his hand and pressed it against the cheek of his father and
spoke once again. 'Kai'orin not Tora'Gralkin. Kai'orin leave Mountain of
Forsaken, seek forgiveness from Lord Daevryn. Seek village that smash Magi.'
And with this, Kai'orin stepped off the platform and began his travels into
the 'Mortal Lands'.