Height: 4’ 2
Weight: 75 lbs
Tattoos: Red flames on both lower arms
Birthplace: Huntingcreek Hills, Ferrell
Place of Death: Near Elf Gate, Wilderness Elf Gate
Current Residence: Temple of The'ton, Mikona
Affiliations and Titles
Nok is an athletic halfling from Ferrell, wearing a hood to cover his mouth. It is rumoured that his face has been deformed by a violent episode, which is probably why he is never seen without this hood.
Nok is a known practitioner of martial arts, he has learned some of the 10 Cute Furry Animal Styles in his childhood and has mastered various techniques, and skills during his time with the Order of the Dragon.
He received a calling from his Lord The'ton and became a cleric in His church.
Nok can often be seen running around in the dark robes of the Church of The'ton, preaching the "Truth".
He may seem a bit withdrawn at times and not very fond of frivolities, but he is open to any questions fired at him any time they might arise, for he is very philosophical by nature and always willing to teach an infidel the wisdom of fear.
I was born in Huntingcreek Hills, Ferrell. - My parents live there still.
From my infant years I remember that my mother had a persistent sadness about her, of which she never spoke but as if she was missing something gravely. Only recently it became clear recently what this loss was about.
At the age of four, it became necessary due to financial reasons, that my parents left me at the local monastery and dojo in Huntingcreek Hills. - Thinking back, one might think they simply lacked the backbone to persevere through the hard times of raising a child, on a simple peasant's wage.
I studied Cute Furry Animal Style under the tutelage of Grandmaster Chipmunk, and I studied hard. My fellow students, who were mostly older and stronger than me, often used me as a punching bag when the Grandmaster wasn't looking. It taught me to become quite adept at evading blows and endure, - to appreciate what I gained through physical pain. I think this is also where I got my adopted last name, because during my years at CFAS, I perfected tumbling around those who intend to hurt me, and chose to beat them with all that I was sure never to lose; my fists.
Years fleeted by with little excitement or hardship, and I was nearing the age where I would be initiated into the arts of reaching mental calm, when one day I woke up in the Kitanya Hill Tourist Agency. My bones were battered and I had more cuts and bruises than I thought were possible to survive. - I can still only speculate what happened exactly, but gathering from the bruises it must have been the group of human pilgrims from the south, that were invited to the Dojo for a hin styled seminar. They must have taken me for an easy target and nearly kicked me to death, and so I vowed to become a better martial artist than any other.
I did not return to the Dojo, but instead started wandering the lands. Those first years outside the shelter of monastic walls, were very hard for me, and I still thank Dagath for granting me the strength of soul to remain on this plane. I met many travellers and heroes, and started learning about the world and its dangers. Even now, Dagath keeps my undying respect, as in these first uncertain years I learned to kill and survive.
In the year 2145 I joined Mylo as an apprentice. I had met this right-sized fellow only briefly before he became my mentor, and I immediately felt a connection. He too practiced martial arts, and was able to show me quite a few techniques I had not yet heard of. Mylo and I ventured far from our homelands and saw the big cities of Elysia and Mikona, and even ventured into the elven lands, where he had been raised.
Together Mylo and I created a guild called the Shadowmasters, and with it we planned to teach the filthy rich, and arrogant people of Ferrel a lesson in humility. - At this time Mylo seemed to have lost his heart to a girl named Moly, and I learned that a man is better off, not being distracted by matters of the heart or loin.
The inevitable soon happened, as people of a more dubious moral fibre sought to oppose our noble effort, and we decided to work from the shadows to avoid direct confrontation and needles casualties.
It was in the glory days of our secret little guild that I reasoned, there is wisdom in learning from others, the lessons that are tried and true, instead of reinventing the gnomish thinkcap for myself. I found with the aid of Mylo, a monastic order called “The Order of the Dragon”, and I immediately recognised its potential worth to my training and education. - I vowed to reach enlightenment as the Masters of old had done.
I was tutored by Grandmaster Jade, a pale elf of unmatched skill in both hand-to-hand combat and the utilization of wisdom. During one of our sessions he told me to choose one of three forms to weather a storm; a tree, a stone or a blade of grass. I chose the blade of grass. Grandmaster Jade instructed me to choose an element and explore it for inspiration. Those made me think on the ways of life, death and rebirth, and my own path in life.
Being like a blade of grass, bending in the wind instead of breaking like a tree, actually living with the elements and adjusting to them. - Instead of being eaten away like the rock, it seemed a good symbol for the power of numbers, and the sanctity of rebirth.
I found my token element, and created my own Kata and presented it to the Masters of the Order. They were pleased, and I was made a full and recognised Brother of the Order of the Dragon.
Another long period of relative calm passed in which I learned to meditate and train with my brethren, always seeking the balance of the middle. The Order fought and defeated the DracoLich Nise in his own lair, and I was rewarded myself for my efforts, and obtained gloves and assets that greatly improved my skills.
It still bothered me that I could not fully develop my personal path, and conform to the precepts of the Order though, and the Shadowmasters were falling apart as some of our members defected. Bud was lost to substance abuse and the so called “heroes” of FEAT, Baloth simply told us he no longer cared for “scaring Halflings” and Sirion travelled off-world and was lost to us altogether. Moly is still around, but ever since she and Mylo separated paths I have seldomly spoken with her.
Then one beautiful morning we received a message from the “Good Man”. Our guild had apperantly gotten noticed by the Church of The'ton in Mikona and they wanted to see us. Mylo and I decided that these people could possibly be the desperately needed ally in our fight for disipline and humility in our homeland. We decided to meet with them and were not quite prepared for what we encountered, for I beleive that to this day I have never been shaken so much.
The Children of the Dreadlord, The'ton's Chosen Few, a frightening group of devoted people of all walks of life and races, chose to manifest themselves to us. At the time of our meeting I had only heard them refered to in scary stories of abduction and insanity, but no one could prepare me for the cunning and perseverance displayed in the depths of their cold gaze. I can only say that Mylo and I tried our best to stand tall in the face of their overwhelming display of power, but we were soon left intimidated and humbled.
I renounced Dagath and swore fealty to The'ton and its church, effectively becoming a Child of the Dreadlord before I really even knew what it entailed. I soon learned however and became enticed by the promise of this most dreaded of Gods.
Being a monk of the Order of the Dragon still, I was able to deceive quite a lot of people in believing the balance was still prime and foremost in my heart, but of course the power of my Lord became adamant in my life. The Children embraced me as one of their own and I was soon given interesting tasks to glorify the name of our God. I was part of a great scheme to rid most of the south of the continent of Negaria of what we refered to as blasphemous items, belts of lesser guiding light. We effectively stopped the sale of these fear-reducing items, only to discover the instruction for making them were discovered and spread by some anoying bard.
Another period of predictable day-to-day routine set in. I attended Tribunals of the Order of the Dragon and was immensely frustrated by their display of bureaucratic sloth. I meditated to reach total inner peace and enlightenment and was left wanting. I visited my homeland often and was ever confronted with the lazy disdain the hin showed towards the ever present dangers of legions of undead and lurkers of the underdark. Always the tall-legged arrogant fighters of Greater Gods imposed their rule on my people who sheepishly accept their guidance for lack of a better idea or care for the outcome. Unfailingly I encountered famous heroes who seemed only to be concerned with material gain, interpersonal squabbles or the glory of the greater good, all the while slaughtering, shouting and drinking like a bunch of peasants in a stinking crowd filled ale-house.
Then one day while praying in the Temple of The'ton I was struck down with a dark light. My eyes went blind in the searing perpetual shadow of my deity's presence and I was left naked and humble in his presence. The'ton filled my soul and body whole with his might and I knew enlightenment could only be obtained through servitude to His cause. Balance meant nothing if not both extremes of the spectrum also were represented. Ferrell would never endure if not for His Devine Lesson. Heroes would never gain anything worthwile if they did not see the truth of their own fears first. I was called to spread this message and felt overfilled with a joyous love for my Lord and accepted this mission. I awoke shaking and cold, staring up into the eyes of Mylo, who later confided in me he saw a spark in my eyes that had not been there before.
The Church Of The'ton and The Children of the Dreadlord had adopted our wish to educate the Hin and for this we had attracted the help of a nearby orc clan. The Blood Clan proved to be the ones educated most in the end though, as the hin were once again shielded from the truth by the ever persistent scum of FEAT and the Clan collectively converted from Gruumsh to The'ton.
I took up preaching and found I had the power to channel a portion of The’ton’s divine magic to bless those who I saw fit. Being one of the martial artist elite of our church, which were founded by The Crimson Seraph, I now had another position to fill and thus I offered my all to the Church. One of the orcs who joined the Children was already adept at being a cleric and he taught me the ways of the Dreadpriest.
Leadership within The Children of the Dreadlord changed, and I officially became advisor and spokesperson. Fighting daily for the acceptance of our Lord's message and our good intentions, I attracted the attention of various other religious orders.
what follows are clearly temporary passages written in pencil instead of ink
We stand at a turning point. The Children have a number of challenges ahead that can either make or break them. We struggle for political foothold in the city of Mikona. We still fight the ignorance of Ferrell. We battle the ever present prejudice against our faith throughout the lands.
I hate the fact that no matter what I have learned and reached in this life, none of it seems to leave a permanent mark on this world... it's all so bloody fleeting. I am glad I have my Lord to serve, He will surely grant me what I deserve in the afterlife.