The Elder
The Elder
Rise of a Legend
To Enter unto Exile
A Disenchanted Return
The Elder
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SpoilerThus, to this day, we do not know the true identity of "The Elder". The only recollection of the Elder's past, that we hold, is the last testament that he shared in his last days. It is with this testament, that we draw a greater insight on the man that was the Elder and how he came to take his place as the pinnacle in the careful crafting of The Midnight Covenant.
The Elder was born unto the fold of the Darksky. He began training at a very young age, learning to wield swords with deadly precision, shoot arrows with vicious accuracy, and thrust a lance with brutal destruction. Through will and perseverance, the Elder excelled in his training and quickly passed all of his trials, becoming a fully fledged Disciple of the Darksky in his early teens.
The Elder was born unto the fold of the Darksky. He began training at a very young age, learning to wield swords with deadly precision, shoot arrows with vicious accuracy, and thrust a lance with brutal destruction. Through will and perseverance, the Elder excelled in his training and quickly passed all of his trials, becoming a fully fledged Disciple of the Darksky in his early teens.
Rise of a Legend
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SpoilerBy the time he reached his coming of age, he was already a battle-hardened warrior. He had seen many battles, developing a strong hatred for the other Tribes and races of the lands. He developed a strong sense of pride and conquest within the Darksky heritage, thus would hunt down and mercilessly slaughtered anyone that did not bear the mark of the Darksky.
Over the years, his reputation for brutality and ferocity in battle had spread across the lands, especially within the other Three Tribes. He was constantly challenged to prove his mettle and display his worthiness to such a bloodthirsty title. As such, with each and every naive challenger, that he left mangled in a pool of their own fluids, would only further the justice of his given reputation.
A legend,passed down through generations that tells of his brutality and drive on the battlefield, speaks of a great battle between the Darksky and the Eventides. The Eventides had trapped many of the Darksky warriors in their intricate traps, rendering them incapable of battle. The Elder used his cunning and climbed into the treetops of the misty forest to avoid the traps the Eventides set out on the grounds below. He stripped himself of his armor and weaponry to allow him to weave through the trees in a more agile manner.
The Elder hunted down the Eventides that were scattered throughout the woods, gathered their corpses, and then proceeded to their outpost. Attempting to weaken their spirits, he dismembered the corpses of their comrades, set them a fire, and hurled the burning body parts over their great walls. This greatly disgraced the Eventides, as they massed their troops and charged the Elder. He retreated into the woods and managed to carry himself over the walls of the outpost, viciously crushing the skulls of the few post guards, left behind from the charge. He locked the remaining forces out of their own encampment and crafted several nooses from the ropes of the Eventide's Weavers.
Finally, he taunted the remaining forces to the walls of their outpost and roped them up, one-by-one, as he heaved them up the walls. After pulling each of his foes, he would kill them in the same graphic fashion, that had since become his trade mark. Eventually, this series of events forced the Eventides to route, leaving the Elder to proclaim victory, as he let his war cry echo through the valleys.
Over the years, his reputation for brutality and ferocity in battle had spread across the lands, especially within the other Three Tribes. He was constantly challenged to prove his mettle and display his worthiness to such a bloodthirsty title. As such, with each and every naive challenger, that he left mangled in a pool of their own fluids, would only further the justice of his given reputation.
A legend,passed down through generations that tells of his brutality and drive on the battlefield, speaks of a great battle between the Darksky and the Eventides. The Eventides had trapped many of the Darksky warriors in their intricate traps, rendering them incapable of battle. The Elder used his cunning and climbed into the treetops of the misty forest to avoid the traps the Eventides set out on the grounds below. He stripped himself of his armor and weaponry to allow him to weave through the trees in a more agile manner.
The Elder hunted down the Eventides that were scattered throughout the woods, gathered their corpses, and then proceeded to their outpost. Attempting to weaken their spirits, he dismembered the corpses of their comrades, set them a fire, and hurled the burning body parts over their great walls. This greatly disgraced the Eventides, as they massed their troops and charged the Elder. He retreated into the woods and managed to carry himself over the walls of the outpost, viciously crushing the skulls of the few post guards, left behind from the charge. He locked the remaining forces out of their own encampment and crafted several nooses from the ropes of the Eventide's Weavers.
Finally, he taunted the remaining forces to the walls of their outpost and roped them up, one-by-one, as he heaved them up the walls. After pulling each of his foes, he would kill them in the same graphic fashion, that had since become his trade mark. Eventually, this series of events forced the Eventides to route, leaving the Elder to proclaim victory, as he let his war cry echo through the valleys.
To Enter unto Exile
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SpoilerAfter several years of loyal, devote, service to the Darksky, he eventually was appointed as an Elder within the Tribe. As an Elder, he continually strived to display the might of the Darksky to the other Tribes, by taking an active role in leading and organizing many offensive assaults. Furthermore, he felt a strong sense of responsibility and obligation to train the young Neophytes, taking a personal role in their lives to teach them the ways of the Darksky and molding them into great combatants.
When the Tribes were forced to flee from their homes and retreat to the South, The Elder reluctantly joined in the migration, fleeing from the first battle in his lifetime. Arriving in the Southlands, he aided his people by rallying his forces and doing what he could to assist with accountability, as well as tending to the wounded. Word had circulated through the forces that the leaders had planned to ally with the other Tribes and he was not hesitant to voice his displeasure. Despite adamantly voicing his concerns and disagreements to his respected leaders, the alliance and forming of the Covenant of Four pressed on.
The Elder became bitter and felt betrayed by his leaders for allowing, what he perceived as, degenerates from the other Tribes to poise as his superiors. He felt that they were unworthy to hold any sort of power over the Darksky for, in his eyes, the Darksky were far more superior. Eventually, this loathing would lead to his downfall.
It was a dark, silent, night. The rain fell upon the land like a waterfall cascading from the skies. The Neophytes of the Covenant were working hard to bring the fresh gathering of resources in from the rain, as The Elder stood by and watched the horizons for any signs of danger. As the Neophytes worked dutifully, one of his new found authoritativea made their way to the site and ordered him to gather resources. This was the final straw for the Elder, for after years of servitude and hard work, rendered to claw his way to where he was at, he was not about to be reduced to grunt work after all he has given for his Tribe.
The Elder snapped and lashed out at the leader, wrapping his hands around his neck and quickly bringing the leader to his knees. He readjusted his hands to rest his thumbs over the leader's eyes and gauged his eyes out exclaiming, "You blind fool. You know not that which the forces you toil." Unable to control his anger, he drew his blade and decapitated the leader, placing his severed head on a stake for all to see. This event would become his last recorded act of conflict.
He stood before the Circle with no remorse or regret. One of the Circle Councilors would step forward, to act as his interrogator. The tribal markings on his forearm signified to The Elder that this Councilor was a fellow Darksky. The Elder leveled his glare with the Councilor and rendered a reluctant bow of respect.
The Councilor spoke out to the Elder, as he stood in the middle of the low-lit, circular, room.
"When I had heard what you did...I requested that I personally oversee your consequence."
"Then, let us get on with it...."
"I have waited a long time for this, brother..."
"As have I...Councilor."
"Hmmm...I'm not sure that you quite understand the severity of your predicament."
"I merely did my part to cleanse this land of a disgusting plague...I am a Darksky. Some of us still remember, and take pride in, the ways that our forefathers laid before us. Our ancestors would be disgraced if they arose to find the scion of their, once powerful, Tribe negotiating and compromising with the enemy...the filth that we vowed to rival with our every breath, until domination was achieved."
"You always did hold such a strong opinion. Unfortunately for you, my brother, your opinions will not help you here. We have waited nine years for this day and, I assure you, that nothing you say will change the events that will take place here."
The Elder furrowed his brow, as he looked to the other members of the Circle watching on, in an emotionless state, before he turned his stare back to the Darksky Councilor before him. "What the hell are you going on about, Councilor?"
The Councilor laughed in amusement, "Did you honestly assume that we didn't know? Honestly, brother, that sort of naivety is not becoming of your legend."
"That was nine years ago!"
"Indeed. Nine years. Nine years we have waited...You brought disgrace to our tribe that day. The only thing that has protected you this long was a minor loop hole in the old tribal traditions...We have been waiting all this time for you to slip up, so that we could serve just consequence for your transgressions. When I heard that you had removed his markings, I must say I was impressed at your cunning. However, unfortunately for you, you didn't bother checking to see if your comrades had actually left...as you had instructed them to do so."
"...I did what I had to do...to protect her."
"I assumed as much, but honestly, did you have to murder the guards? You didn't even have the honor to give them a proper burial...Burning corpses is no way to render your respect to the dead, brother."
"Let's not drag this out, what is to be my consequence for killing that disgusting excuse for a leader?"
"Ha! You still do not understand! That was nothing, but a decoy! Nine years ago, we could not award consequence for your transgressions because of that loop hole. We got tired of waiting, brother. So...We arranged to have that leader reduce you to grunt work, knowing that it would push you over the edge, in your unstable state of mind. It was unfortunate that you had to kill him, but that act merely served as a more appropriate means for us to put you on trial, without raising too much concern from the commoners. Bravo, brother, well played."
"...Betrayed, by my own tribe...The tribe that I have served and loved since my birth...On this day...everything that I have lived for, and believed in, has been stripped from my very hands...Councilor, with this, I have nothing further to live for...I surrender myself to the mercy of the Circle...to determine the most fitting death..."
The Councilor chuckles to himself, "Death? Oh no. Despite your crimes on that day, you taught us something...that there are things far worse than death."
"You wouldn't!"
Several Councilors stepped forward and subdued the Elder, tackling him to the ground and securing his hands and feet. The Elder tried to fight back, but the sheer number of the Councilors was too much for him to match. One of the Councilors took hold of his forearm and began to carve into his skin, removing the portion of flesh that contained his tribal markings.
"You are hereby stripped of your brand and exiled from Eorzea for the passing of three thousand six hundred and thirty moons. And know this brother...if you should breach the borders of these lands before the passing of that final moon...We will make you wish that you were dead."
On that day, the leaders opted not to kill him, but instead chose to exile him from Eorzea for ten years. Reluctantly, he accepted his fate and left Eorzea. Nothing would prepare him for what he would find when he returned.
During the ten years of his exile, The Elder traveled to many diverse regions and was exposed to many differing cultures and people. He began to reflect back on his old lifestyle within the tribe and see err in killing without purpose. Searching his soul, he adapted a more meaningful lifestyle.
Though he still utilized the skills and training he acquired from his time within the Tribes, he chose to use them in a more beneficial way. He traveled the lands helping the commoners with various tasks, that ranged from simply assisting with crop harvests, to taking out groups of bandits that were assaulting townsfolk.
That night, after retiring to his quarters, the Councilor sat nervously on the edge of his bed. Beads of sweat rolled along his skin, before separating and falling to the floor below. His eyes shifted to and fro, breathing heavily with anxiety. A dark hooded figure appeared before him, standing within the shadows of a corner in the room. His glowing green eyes peered across the room at the Councilor, as he spoke with the tones of a thousand voices.
“You have done well, Councilor…Everything is going as scheduled.â€Â
The Councilor looked to the Shade, with wide eyes, before quickly kneeling before him. “…Thank you, Master.â€Â
The Shade narrowed his eyes, “Soon…They will all understand…The balance must be broken…â€Â
“What will you have me do next?â€Â
“…Prepare for the rapture.â€Â
He hesitated for but a moment. The guilt that coursed through his veins was, at times, overwhelming. He could not recall when this figure had come into his life. All he knew was that the Shade possessed insurmountable power over his soul. Reduced to a prisoner within his own body, he could not defy the figure’s will.
“As you decree…My liege…â€Â
The Shade stepped backwards into the shadows, as he spoke to the Councilor, in a low tone, “Do not fail me...Councilor…†His eyes dimmed slowly, before the Councilor was left in the room, alone with his thoughts, once again.
When the Tribes were forced to flee from their homes and retreat to the South, The Elder reluctantly joined in the migration, fleeing from the first battle in his lifetime. Arriving in the Southlands, he aided his people by rallying his forces and doing what he could to assist with accountability, as well as tending to the wounded. Word had circulated through the forces that the leaders had planned to ally with the other Tribes and he was not hesitant to voice his displeasure. Despite adamantly voicing his concerns and disagreements to his respected leaders, the alliance and forming of the Covenant of Four pressed on.
The Elder became bitter and felt betrayed by his leaders for allowing, what he perceived as, degenerates from the other Tribes to poise as his superiors. He felt that they were unworthy to hold any sort of power over the Darksky for, in his eyes, the Darksky were far more superior. Eventually, this loathing would lead to his downfall.
It was a dark, silent, night. The rain fell upon the land like a waterfall cascading from the skies. The Neophytes of the Covenant were working hard to bring the fresh gathering of resources in from the rain, as The Elder stood by and watched the horizons for any signs of danger. As the Neophytes worked dutifully, one of his new found authoritativea made their way to the site and ordered him to gather resources. This was the final straw for the Elder, for after years of servitude and hard work, rendered to claw his way to where he was at, he was not about to be reduced to grunt work after all he has given for his Tribe.
The Elder snapped and lashed out at the leader, wrapping his hands around his neck and quickly bringing the leader to his knees. He readjusted his hands to rest his thumbs over the leader's eyes and gauged his eyes out exclaiming, "You blind fool. You know not that which the forces you toil." Unable to control his anger, he drew his blade and decapitated the leader, placing his severed head on a stake for all to see. This event would become his last recorded act of conflict.
He stood before the Circle with no remorse or regret. One of the Circle Councilors would step forward, to act as his interrogator. The tribal markings on his forearm signified to The Elder that this Councilor was a fellow Darksky. The Elder leveled his glare with the Councilor and rendered a reluctant bow of respect.
The Councilor spoke out to the Elder, as he stood in the middle of the low-lit, circular, room.
"When I had heard what you did...I requested that I personally oversee your consequence."
"Then, let us get on with it...."
"I have waited a long time for this, brother..."
"As have I...Councilor."
"Hmmm...I'm not sure that you quite understand the severity of your predicament."
"I merely did my part to cleanse this land of a disgusting plague...I am a Darksky. Some of us still remember, and take pride in, the ways that our forefathers laid before us. Our ancestors would be disgraced if they arose to find the scion of their, once powerful, Tribe negotiating and compromising with the enemy...the filth that we vowed to rival with our every breath, until domination was achieved."
"You always did hold such a strong opinion. Unfortunately for you, my brother, your opinions will not help you here. We have waited nine years for this day and, I assure you, that nothing you say will change the events that will take place here."
The Elder furrowed his brow, as he looked to the other members of the Circle watching on, in an emotionless state, before he turned his stare back to the Darksky Councilor before him. "What the hell are you going on about, Councilor?"
The Councilor laughed in amusement, "Did you honestly assume that we didn't know? Honestly, brother, that sort of naivety is not becoming of your legend."
"That was nine years ago!"
"Indeed. Nine years. Nine years we have waited...You brought disgrace to our tribe that day. The only thing that has protected you this long was a minor loop hole in the old tribal traditions...We have been waiting all this time for you to slip up, so that we could serve just consequence for your transgressions. When I heard that you had removed his markings, I must say I was impressed at your cunning. However, unfortunately for you, you didn't bother checking to see if your comrades had actually left...as you had instructed them to do so."
"...I did what I had to do...to protect her."
"I assumed as much, but honestly, did you have to murder the guards? You didn't even have the honor to give them a proper burial...Burning corpses is no way to render your respect to the dead, brother."
"Let's not drag this out, what is to be my consequence for killing that disgusting excuse for a leader?"
"Ha! You still do not understand! That was nothing, but a decoy! Nine years ago, we could not award consequence for your transgressions because of that loop hole. We got tired of waiting, brother. So...We arranged to have that leader reduce you to grunt work, knowing that it would push you over the edge, in your unstable state of mind. It was unfortunate that you had to kill him, but that act merely served as a more appropriate means for us to put you on trial, without raising too much concern from the commoners. Bravo, brother, well played."
"...Betrayed, by my own tribe...The tribe that I have served and loved since my birth...On this day...everything that I have lived for, and believed in, has been stripped from my very hands...Councilor, with this, I have nothing further to live for...I surrender myself to the mercy of the Circle...to determine the most fitting death..."
The Councilor chuckles to himself, "Death? Oh no. Despite your crimes on that day, you taught us something...that there are things far worse than death."
"You wouldn't!"
Several Councilors stepped forward and subdued the Elder, tackling him to the ground and securing his hands and feet. The Elder tried to fight back, but the sheer number of the Councilors was too much for him to match. One of the Councilors took hold of his forearm and began to carve into his skin, removing the portion of flesh that contained his tribal markings.
"You are hereby stripped of your brand and exiled from Eorzea for the passing of three thousand six hundred and thirty moons. And know this brother...if you should breach the borders of these lands before the passing of that final moon...We will make you wish that you were dead."
On that day, the leaders opted not to kill him, but instead chose to exile him from Eorzea for ten years. Reluctantly, he accepted his fate and left Eorzea. Nothing would prepare him for what he would find when he returned.
During the ten years of his exile, The Elder traveled to many diverse regions and was exposed to many differing cultures and people. He began to reflect back on his old lifestyle within the tribe and see err in killing without purpose. Searching his soul, he adapted a more meaningful lifestyle.
Though he still utilized the skills and training he acquired from his time within the Tribes, he chose to use them in a more beneficial way. He traveled the lands helping the commoners with various tasks, that ranged from simply assisting with crop harvests, to taking out groups of bandits that were assaulting townsfolk.
That night, after retiring to his quarters, the Councilor sat nervously on the edge of his bed. Beads of sweat rolled along his skin, before separating and falling to the floor below. His eyes shifted to and fro, breathing heavily with anxiety. A dark hooded figure appeared before him, standing within the shadows of a corner in the room. His glowing green eyes peered across the room at the Councilor, as he spoke with the tones of a thousand voices.
“You have done well, Councilor…Everything is going as scheduled.â€Â
The Councilor looked to the Shade, with wide eyes, before quickly kneeling before him. “…Thank you, Master.â€Â
The Shade narrowed his eyes, “Soon…They will all understand…The balance must be broken…â€Â
“What will you have me do next?â€Â
“…Prepare for the rapture.â€Â
He hesitated for but a moment. The guilt that coursed through his veins was, at times, overwhelming. He could not recall when this figure had come into his life. All he knew was that the Shade possessed insurmountable power over his soul. Reduced to a prisoner within his own body, he could not defy the figure’s will.
“As you decree…My liege…â€Â
The Shade stepped backwards into the shadows, as he spoke to the Councilor, in a low tone, “Do not fail me...Councilor…†His eyes dimmed slowly, before the Councilor was left in the room, alone with his thoughts, once again.
A Disenchanted Return
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SpoilerThe Elder returned to Eorzea to find the land he once called home had drastically changed.
The Council of Four and the Darksky, his beloved Tribe, had been destroyed and left but a fragment in time. New city-states had erected and others had grown to incredible stature. In this land that he was born, that he trained, and that he called home all his life, he was now a stranger.
The Elder was nearing the end of his days and new that he only had a few more years on Hydaelyn. After spending years reflecting on his past lifestyle, he vowed to repent for his deeds by erecting a new Covenant, before he passed on. He vowed to resurrect the new Covenant with the traditions, pride, and courage held by the old Tribes, but with a renewed sense of purpose. The Elder would rebuild the new Covenant with a new image and more subtle approach to missions.
Make no mistake, the new Covenant would come to be just as deadly as its predecessor. It would simply have different means and purpose. It would realize a heightened potential by opening its doors to the other races of the land, but the highest positions would be reserved for the Duskwight lineage. It would not seek fame or glory, but would remain hidden amongst the shadow and strike in the blink of an eye with exquisite precision. Above all, the new Covenant would have a true purpose and calling, no longer killing for sport, but for cause.
The Elder would not be able to confront this challenge alone. In his dying age, he would need to choose a new Council to champion the Covenant and carry on the legacy. He would spend the remaining years of his life seeking out and training the offspring that held the tribal blood. Just as he did the Neophytes in the days of old, he would teach them, train them, and mold them. He would take them under his wing and shape them into leaders, that would carry the name of the new Covenant into the future ages, restoring it to its former glory. Just as a phoenix rises from the ashes of which it was destroyed...
The Council of Four and the Darksky, his beloved Tribe, had been destroyed and left but a fragment in time. New city-states had erected and others had grown to incredible stature. In this land that he was born, that he trained, and that he called home all his life, he was now a stranger.
The Elder was nearing the end of his days and new that he only had a few more years on Hydaelyn. After spending years reflecting on his past lifestyle, he vowed to repent for his deeds by erecting a new Covenant, before he passed on. He vowed to resurrect the new Covenant with the traditions, pride, and courage held by the old Tribes, but with a renewed sense of purpose. The Elder would rebuild the new Covenant with a new image and more subtle approach to missions.
Make no mistake, the new Covenant would come to be just as deadly as its predecessor. It would simply have different means and purpose. It would realize a heightened potential by opening its doors to the other races of the land, but the highest positions would be reserved for the Duskwight lineage. It would not seek fame or glory, but would remain hidden amongst the shadow and strike in the blink of an eye with exquisite precision. Above all, the new Covenant would have a true purpose and calling, no longer killing for sport, but for cause.
The Elder would not be able to confront this challenge alone. In his dying age, he would need to choose a new Council to champion the Covenant and carry on the legacy. He would spend the remaining years of his life seeking out and training the offspring that held the tribal blood. Just as he did the Neophytes in the days of old, he would teach them, train them, and mold them. He would take them under his wing and shape them into leaders, that would carry the name of the new Covenant into the future ages, restoring it to its former glory. Just as a phoenix rises from the ashes of which it was destroyed...
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