Salchaket

My name is Salchaket. As you can probably tell from my name, my people are descended of the indigenous peoples of North America. Driven from our homelands, some of our folk settled in the forests of Sosaria taking only what was needed to survive. We numbered some of the finest trappers and hunters in the land. And, for many years, we traded hides with the folk of the towns. Masters of the bow and lance, we competed with the orcs for living space. They were our greatest enemy and for many years we held them in check. Sadly, it may be this fact that led to our downfall.

I remember well the spring of the year that the great lich Juo�nar returned to Sosaria. My younger brother, Dark Wolf, had just turned 16 and it was time for the test of manhood. He was to go deep into the forest and single handedly slay the great boar. I was chosen by the council to accompany him as a witness and to return his body should he fail. He found a big old tusker who lived deep in a thicket. He managed to kill the boar but not easily and not without being injured himself. However, that is a tale for another time. When he was well enough to travel, we packed the trophy of his kill and made haste to return home.

As we entered the glade, which housed our village, we knew something was wrong. It was a feeling more than anything else. Then we saw the smoke. It was not the smoke of cooking fires as it was black and oily and there was far too much of it. We strung our bows and rode at a gallop to our village. We raced down the forest path and pulled up short as we entered the village. I sat on my mount slack jawed as I surveyed the carnage. The long houses were burning. Men, women, and children lay dead outside their homes. Apparently, the orcs had come in great numbers. Many of them had paid the price and now lay rotting in the village. Here and there we saw odd piles of bones and occasionally the rotten body of a human that had died long before this battle began. The hut belonging to the village shaman was not merely burning. It had been obliterated. My brother and I glanced at each other. Death magic.

We searched the ruins and found the bodies of our family save that of our father. We found him later buried under some rubble. He was alive but just barely. He told us of the battle for our village. He told of wave after wave of orcs attacking the village and of the powerful undead creatures that accompanied them. They cut the orcs down easily and quickly. But he told us that some of the undead ones had no flesh for an arrow or lance to pierce. Those that did have flesh would laugh mockingly at a lance thrust through their chest. I tended his wounds as best I could but he passed quietly that night.

It fell to my brother and I to tend to the dead and we did so without complaint. Some of the local townsfolk came to assist us. Even with their help, I took over a week to bury the dead. The work had sheltered us from our grief and now it came to us in great waves. We knew that we could not stay. The memories of our loss were simply too strong in this place. So, we gathered our meager belongings and left the forest that had been our home. We traveled for many days. Occasionally, we met bands of orcs, which we slew. We had fought orcs all of our lives but now each orc face brought back painful memories. We struck out at our pain. It began as hot anger, which turned to cold rage with each orc killed. Soon, our skill at killing orcs rivaled that of the greatest hunters our people had ever seen.

One day, we were cleaning up after slaughtering a party of orcs when a column of knights rode up. The leader was a knight called Sir Geoffry of Britian. He and his men had watched the battle from a near by hill. He remarked that he had never seen orcs killed with such enthusiasm. We told him of our village. He told us that the great lich Juo�nar had returned and he had convinced the orcs to ally with him. Apparently, our village had been part of the price. We knew that we were no match for this lich. So, we asked Sir Geoffry to take us on as his squires to teach us the ways of the knight. So that one-day we might be able to stand against such a creature and prevail. Sir Geoffry took us on as his squires even though were much older than was normal to begin training. The days of training that lay ahead would be long and often times brutally hard. But, through all the sweat, blood, and pain we never lost our focus. Slowly, over time, Sir Geoffry and his knights forged us into weapons.

I am a fully trained knight now and I kill liches everyday. It is my quest to destroy the lich and his minions and sweep them from our land. My brother, Dark Wolf, fights on the side of Order and stands ready to join me should Juo�nar rise again.