Murf’ar

MURF’AR ILMUZZAR

BORN: 1/1 1111 in FA Uhmzel

RACE: Kobold/Moss'ari

REALM: Channelling

AURA: Green

HEIGHT: 211 cm

 

 

TITLE(S)

Steward of Uhmzel

Legend

“Mightiest of Trackers among all the Humans.”

Skjald El Mary

 

History

Fourth Age

Murf’ar is one of the few Half-Human with Kobold blood known to exist and was born in the Kobold settlement of Utrûng at the shores of Lake Parâzir in Uhmzel. The only son of a human father who is said to have been an Alchemist of the Moss'ari people and a Kobold mother.

Exactly how his father ended up with the Kobold of Clan Utrûng is unclear, but he was one of the greatest Moss’ari alchemists, if not the greatest, who have ever lived. Zizu who knew him and attended the naming have told me that Fumibulr did not plan for the child, but while he studied there, Agginatook fell in love with him, and they married. It was the first ever marriage between Kobold and Moss’ari, and to everyone’s surprise, they were blessed with a child.

Skjald Ulrich

 

The lad was named Murf’ar, which means ‘Nimble at foot’ in both races native languages, and as the child grew into a lad, it became obvious that the marriage and name were destiny’s come true. Murf’ar became an exceptional Ranger and an excellent Herbalist and alchemist.

Seemingly one with nature and eager to learn, he travelled the dense roughlands and foothills of Uhmzel.” His knowledge of landscape, flora, and alchemy soon made him friends with many karavan leaders, herbalists, and Apothecary. But as the years passed, he began to outgrow other humans, and townsfolk began to stare and keep their distance. Thus, it became increasingly harder to go unnoticed and also gain new friends, but his skills secured a steadily growing reputation, and he was easy to find when in town.

At the age of 30, he was beyond 2 metres high and a hulk of bone and muscle, yet agile, like few of his size. In 1161, when he turned 50, he had gained a towering height of 211 cm, and he was a massive mountain unmatched in height by any human.

Skjald Vinotis

 

During one of his caravan guide jobs, he had to lead them all the way into Sloviit. and in one of the highland passages, a huge blizzard was coming in for the caravan. Studying the weather, he suggested they should take shelter in Greypeak Caves; there was just about time to reach it safely. The leader agreed, and they turned south. As the first hard gusts hit them and hail began hammering down, they entered safety, they thought.

It turned out that an odd mixture of humans Drakk Alfar and T'Aurs and a weird pig-faced man was holding a meeting there. And contradictory to old custom, when travellers were hit by storms and blizzards, these seemingly didn’t want news of their meeting to spread, so they attacked. When the fray was over, only one stood alive.

Severely wounded Murf’ar started to treat himself, and then he carefully examined the opponents. Taking every document, ring, amulet, emblem, and one of the pig-faced heads. He began to walk down from the highlands, keeping an extremely keen eye on the paths ahead and often looking back over his shoulder. Those 3 T’Aurs had been quite a match for him, and he was exhausted, wounded, and couldn’t stop the bleeding from those damn Drakk Alfar poisoned cuts. Luckily, he was able to counter the poison, but he knew it was a matter of time and stamina, so he walked and walked.

Skjald El Mary

 

When he woke, he looked into a couple of bright blue girls eyes, in a smiling face topped by beautiful golden hair. Then he noticed that he was in what seemed to be a hastily made shelter of branches and leaves. The girl, nude to the skin, had cleaned his wounds and put herb and leaf paste into the cuts. His first thought was not how he ended here or her odd appearance, but that the Drakk Alfar cuts had stopped throbbing and didn’t bleed anymore. Whatever the paste, he had to learn, so he pointed at the cuts with the paste and pulled up his shoulders while opening his hands in an outward gesture. And then he fainted.

Uncertain of how long he was out, he had an odd feeling when he finally came to his senses. Something had happened while he was in a haze, but he couldn’t place it. Yet he was in the shelter he remembered, and beside him were two small stacks of leaves, some berries, and a few roots. Which made him think of that golden-skinned girl, but she was nowhere to see. So he got up, dressed, went outside, and stood beside a lake he knew he had not seen before. He told me he never figured out if he walked here or if that little girl had carried him here, and there was a dog at her side.

Skjald Sejrik

 

When he gained his senses, he realised his bag with all the proof was gone—maybe lost in the travels, maybe taken by the golden girl. No matter, it was seemingly lost. So, he began scouting and travelled south, as he thought the high mountain spires on the left seemed familiar. As he went on, he came to realise that the left mountains had to be Zilhugs Peaks. and at the left, on the other side of the woodlands, lay The Ihrrim Range, with Greaypeak Caves on the other side. So, had he really wandered all the way up into Fogwald, and might that had been Mirror Lake with the island of Kistal, he had seen in silhouette out at the damp waters. If so, there was for sure something to tell his father at their woodland lodge.

He wandered for some days and finally came back into Uhmzel, and a week later he trod on known paths. One evening, he entered a small town and approached one of his usual buyers of herbs to see if he could get shelter and news. To his surprise, the herbalist had been murdered some weeks ago by people who were asking for Murf’ar. They also told him that three others he normally dealt with had faced the same fate. Horrified, he asked if anyone would sell him a horse based on trust and payment. Later, an old Blacksmith on his way home to Fogwald said he could spare one of his packers as he was light on goods. A deal was made, and Murf’ar rode it as hard as possible without killing it.

Returning home, he found their house burned, his father killed, and his mother gone. Devastated, he knew this had to be allies of those who had ambushed them. It was most likely too late to save anyone who the enemy had as targets, so he decided to focus on tracking them down instead of warning anyone; he wanted revenge for this cruelty.

So as 1161 faded, so did Murf’ar, into the rarely trodden paths and nature’s shadows.

Skjald Sigurd

 

It is said that in 1166 he stood… aside a well-known hood…

When King Leoandry II got his ring… Murf’ar joined another…

And spies around the non-born realm… began to drop as flies…

Flayed of skin and set on pike… horned, human and shorties alike…

He got revenge… but the plots were known only by Gods…

Skjald Kazumix

 

I’ve heard that not only did Murf’ar search for those responsible for the ambush, but also the golden girl and the blacksmith. Both were nowhere in Fogwald. The odd thing, though, was that the golden girl and the missing blacksmith might have been under the same roof in 1162. But she left towards Udring a week before the Blacksmith went southward. Some said they might have been lovers because, when she left, an infant child stayed behind. And him being so much older than that young lady, quite the gossip.

But in the summer of 1168, he heard that a golden-skinned woman with fair hair had claimed the island of Halkistal, so he decided to go there and see if he might recognise her. After all, it had only been 7 years, so he went there. And when he stood at the shore of Mirror Lake, memories came to him. Had they really been true?

He hired a boat, was sailed across, and hastily left the bridge. Walking into Halkistal, he knocked before he bowed down and entered. Inside, he stood face-to-face with Deepminded. and indeed, he recognised her. But, as he was to speak, she said, “Welcome, Murf’ar, to Halkistal; please sit down.” Then she placed food and ale at the table and told him to help himself as she had to fetch something.

When she came back, feet and cloak wet at the rim, she laid an old, weather-worn backpack on the table. “This is yours, I believe. I’m sorry, but I forgot all about it and had to find myself first. I have never looked inside. The odd skull is outside, in a sack of its  own.” Then she went into the back, and he started to examine the contents. After a few hours alone, he placed five silvers on the table and left. Never to return to Halkistal, as he knew it was true, but a thing of the past.

And he had an urgent task ahead, seven years delayed.

Skjald Ulrich

 

I’ve heard from several people that Murf’ar was seen busting the faces of a drunken gang of sailors in 1168, in Port Antwerda in Grebi. What he did there is unclear to us all, but maybe it was merely ship-shift, as he was seen celebrating New Year’s Eve in Arul, the most northern of the harbours in Tornix. He sailed to Ashenhall to meet with Zizu, as he believed he might have knowledge about the items he carried.

I think it’s a sad slip that he didn’t show the content to Deepminded back then, as she might have figured The Great Invasion was brewing. But he did not, yet Zizu luckily could set some of the bits and pieces straight. He remembered when he, as a lad, had heard his father speak with Kanziganthir about the war that broke out between T’Aurs and Drakk Alfar. They had never spoken nor done things together since that forced truce, but that war was from 736 to 739. So, this ambush that Murf’ar survived seemingly ended 402 years of racial hostility. Or maybe it was merely renegades and usurpers of those races. He didn’t recognise any of the emblems or seals and had never seen a skull like the one brought along, but maybe Kanziganthir could.

So they took a short break and had something to eat. And after a couple of hours, a small silvery chiming was heard, and as Zizu turned around, Kanziganthir stepped out of a large mirror with a yellow glowing frame. “I felt your call, old friend; what’s the urge?”.

Murf’ar told me this was his first experience with the The Eight Mirrors. and Astravel and despite him being quite curious, he was also somewhat in awe. This man, Kanziganthir, had, according to Zizu, experienced the war between his foes hundreds of years ago. As with the rest of us, he wondered how old this legend actually was. But more important things were afoot.

Going through things, Kanziganthir recognised some of the emblems and seals and even knew the language two of the documents were written in. When he came to the skull, he lifted it gently up and almost whispered, “So after a thousand years, I see your faces again.” Then he turned towards his host and Murf’ar and said, “If this is what I think it is, it bodes ill for our plans. But please tell of this to no one until I know more.” With a nod from both, he stepped back into the mirror, still with the skull in hand.

Murf’ar did not see that skull shape again until 1277, when Pigryn swarmed The Realm. Had he been with Setils Dark Needles, and not Bergon's. Borgians. He would have seen some heads as Kanziganthir in 1171 approached Setil and hired his Dark Needles to bring him every Pigryn or proven collaborator they could find. It sure was an odd bond between Setil and the forces of Black Oak.

Skjald Valgrif

 

As the years passed, the tracks of his parents murderers faded, as did the number of survivors who had participated. So Murf’ar began to wonder what happened to the blacksmith, who had crossed his path in more ways than one. He never found the old man, as his tracks were lost in northern Tusla. In 1197, in the hamlet of Kalmor, he had died. Those who had buried him remembered nothing of the child the people of Fogwald had mentioned.

Skjald Ulrich

 

In 1252, he became Steward of Uhmzel. A title he held and served with honour until he resigned in 1273 to study echanization. And to do so, he stayed a while at Grimsborg, then Grindaa, and finally, in 1276, went to the Free City of Muldum. I believe he deliberately met Mino, and he might have discussed the items scavenged from that ambush so many years ago. The next day, Mino was gone.

A while later, standing at a lathe in Mino's Owing working on a tool for alchemy, Noise broke out at the gates, alarms sounded, and down the streets, Pigryn hacked their way through children, females, workers, and guards alike.

F.F. Jaeger told me that he saw Murf’ar grab his bow and quiver and a huge halberd. Then he charged the incoming flood and vanished in a spray of blood, limbs, and heads. And no one saw Murf’ar again until the Battle of Weeping Plains, when many thought he had died. But since then, rumours of his appearance have begun to circulate.

Skjald Vinotis

 

Special

Half human and Kobold.

Skjald Yell'a'Beard

Last Updated on 2024-11-17 by IoM-Christian