Character Biography - Malar

The Beastlord, Lord of Beasts, The Black-Blooded Pard, The Ravaging Bear, Master of the Hunt, Wild Hunter

Malar is the god of the savage wild.  He is worshipped by hunters who revel in the kill or who hunt for sport or to excess, fallen rangers, sentient carnivores, and lycanthropes.  Those who suffer the  depredations of wild beasts attempt to placate The Beastlord with offerings of freshly killed and bloody meat, but Malar rarely recognizes their entreaties.  In his more favorable aspects he is revered by beings who identify with the untamed nature, grace, and amorality of predators.

Malar achieves almost sensuaal fulfillment from the hunt and the kill. He revels in the fear radiated by the hunted and hungers for the blood of his prey.

He speaks only in low growling undertone or vicious snarl. The Lord of Beasts despises the Balance sought by druids and their deities and seeks to overthrow it through the actions of his faithful. He manifests an avatar in Faerun in an endless hunt across the Realms whenever the mood strikes him--which is almost constantly.

diary of a mad man pt. 3

When the preparations were ready to find and kill the fallen angel into Crovax's palace were set in motion he only needed one thing a magical carpet that could whisk him away to his prey. He searched long and hard, then found it for the time to strike. But when my spy returned to me to tell me that Crovax had been hidden away in training and couldn't be bothered at all it was the perfect time. Crovax would be all-alone. His mentors gone and his brother Tsabicaran was in a meeting with others trying to get them as his patrons of the order. With the carpet he moved quickly to the fallen angel. She would be dead in a matter of minutes. One by one the meteors hit her barely phasing her. He pressed on deathly aware that the BASTARD must die to his blade tonight! Finally after what seemed to be hours but only minutes she was dead! He quickly moved to the next target. With one slick move the meteors hit harder then before and he was dead. Into the building he went. Walking slowly not making a sound. Shaking with fear and excitement of what Crovax would do if he saw him first. Then he saw him The bastard elf himself he was tall in the picture in his belt pouch he had drawn of him. But it was correct he was indeed tall and slim but muscular. This would be an easy match for I had faith on my side! He will be dead by me! One by one the rocks hit Crovax causing him to drop the joint in which he smoked on the ground. Quickly Rosso without loosing concentration of the spell picked it up and knew it was a gift from the gods. He went on powering down the elf with no giving up. All Crovax could do is watch as he lay there in shock as the illusionist continued to attack his poor frail body. As the final hours passed for Crovax, he gave a girlish scream to try to alert someone of his death but no one came. I waited what seemed like forever to find the next person to slay but no one came. So I moved out with his corpse in hand so I can cast as my own and trapped his soul inside of it. Hours upon hours passed when the deed was surely done. Being brought to the temple of life was the corpse of Crovax where his final resting spot would be. But there in his eyes he seen the bastard elf lying there in the coffin getting up ferociously surviving the beat down of his life. Crovax yelled into the streets "That guy right there tried to kill me! Lock him up in the brig so he will never get out!" Malar attending the funeral quickly grabbed me and through me into this cell I now call home.

Cleanup Crew

Two thralls dressed head to toe in magenta swept their brooms along the cobbled streets. Most of the wreckage had been cleared away and the strange words that had taunted the citizens of of the city had not long been paved over. "Did you hear that something was found out of all this?" One of the thralls said to the other who shook his head. "Yeah some guy named Vorcet managed to pull something out of this clusterfuck. A few of the local legends went at it as well." The second thrall shrugged and continued his sweeping. "So was it anything decent?"  The first thrall kicked aside a broken chunk of sidewalk and shook his head. "Time will tell, time will tell." 

Smitten

Foot traffic had been extremely slow in Festival Square today. In part Tony supposed due to the purple armored goons than ran loose in his city. In part probably due to the fact that Westbridge housed only tightwads and rejects these days. He called out in frustration at a passing family, "Youa All Worthless Pansy Bit-". Thunder rumbled not far above cutting  his sales pitch short. Great, he thought, now I get to stand out here like a moron in the rain. Within the square necks craned up in unison as dark clouds coalesced directly above them. The thunder continued to rumble, growing louder and louder as red flashes appeared from within the soupy mass. The dim flashes from above grew to blinding flashes of scarlet raining down upon the small square below. Again and again they struck without prejudice. Tony leapt out of the way just in time to avoid being struck. The family he had called out to wasn't as lucky as one of the bolts blew them in opposing directions. As quickly as it had begun the carnage ended, leaving only wreckage, the sounds of sobbing, and burning words written in an ancient dialect that had been burned into the very streets of the city.

The Clue

The thrall's neck snapped back with ferocious force. A small snap was heard seconds before a red crescent moon of a laceration appeared across his neck spewing blood in rhythmic torrents onto the cracked roadway. The thrall's silent screams came as mere sighs through his severed windpipe as a multitude of red slashes appeared across his body from some invisible force. And then as soon as it had started, it ended. The thrall's lifeless corpse slumped into the dark streets of Market Square, blood forming swiftly in a large pool before the fountain. The pool's crimson reflection  gave way to a hunched figure silently slipping through the opposite end of the Square approaching the fountain. Covered in fresh sprays of blood, the stooped figure brushed back a lock of dirty, matted hair. His blood red eyes paid no mind the mutilated body as he passed it, kneeling before the pooled blood at the base of the fountain. He dipped his hands into the fluid so warm it nearly steamed in the chilled fall air, the feeling eliciting from him a snarl as if from a wild animal. Swiftly... Deftly... Furiously he worked. Smearing blood upon the base of the fountain like a madman, he worked with the tenacious force of a starving animal feeding. His hands moved smoothly along the fountain's walls, stopping only here and there to soak his hands in more blood below. Finally he stood, the thrall's blood streaming in rivulettes down his arms. Snarling again in satisfaction, he stalked from the fountain and into the night, leaving behind him the carnage of his kill and the crude mural of a totem next to a river painted red upon the side of the fountain.

a New Carpet

It were an early morning in the month of Eleint.Dark clouds were covering the Realms, and a giant Stormsummoned by the Stormlord Talos sent down its Lightningtorturing the lands of the Great Realms. It was that very same morning when Malar appeared to me, telling me what was going on. "Members of the Church of Nightmares have insulted the Lord of Storms! he said." Make them pay! And bring me proof!" He then disapeared in a pile of crawling maggots finding their way out of the room. I quickly assembled a team of strong Talosians, And we left our sacred Church to securely demolish every nightmare and leave them dead. But, of course, all of them fled into a hidden room in their church. So we went after them. After slaying the guards of their halls, which proved to be fairly easy, we entered their almost abandonned Church and stole some equipment from their personal shops. Somewhere deep within the disgusting church which seemed to be totally abandoned by any god, we heard them yell at us. We were, according to them, losers and we were weak and so on. After Kelin, Yota and I got up again from rolling over the floor laughing at them, e went to explore their hall since we were sure those wimpy nightmares wouldnt dare to come out of their hidden room. As i gave my fellow Destructors a grand tour through the abandonned clanhall, we found hidden passage leading to some sort of maze. Within a few moments we left the maze on the other side. We entered a room with in it a small chest. As i tried to pick the lock I suddenly realised the key of the clandoors might just fit in. And yes, I unlocked the chest and opened it. As we were all very curious what this big treasure were, we were kind of disappointed when all we found was a dirty flag. The CoN logo was drawn on both sides of the silk flag. But we needed to bring proof, so this would do, we thought. Back at the Shrine of Talos again I asked for an audience with Lord Malar again. As the maggots crawled back in the room and slowly shaped back into the shape of our Lord, I showed him the flag, on which he said: "Good, Good, We needed a new Carpet at our shrine anyway. Silk is good to wipe your feet clean on," as he grinned and continued: "Thats the only thing members of CoN are good for anyways." Malar spread the flag over the floor and wiped his feet on it. Then he disappeared again in the same way he came. And now we still have The CoN clan Flag lying like trash on the floor, as a new carpet. Reminding us of the damned wimpy members of the Church of Nightmares.