Sil Mandoth

Sil Mandoth - A Character Sketch

Sil ManDoth perched on the bench in the seedy inn, eyeing his companion. He didn’t quite know what to think: Val Harmon was definitely not one of them, but at this point no one was to be trusted. After knowing Val for only three days, Sil at least felt comfortable with the conclusion that he really was mostly harmless.

"I knows as no one asks history rounds here, but we’s practically friends now. I’s curious, wheres ya come from?"

"I was born in a village outside of Sanctos." Born and raised here in Bibolos, Sil thought to himself. "My father was a " tinker "goatherd in the steppes." He scratched absentmindedly at the lice crawling through his curly chest hairs, and as a nervous habit checked to make sure the letter was still hidden under his tunic.

"I heerd of that Sanctos. Pretty much a mobile village, no?"

"Yup, move with the food." We were pretty well off, but I had to go and ruin all of it! It’s all my fault, they’re gone! "When I got old enough, I thought I’d head out on my own, and see the world, mebbe live in a city. So I came to Bibolos." It all stemmed from that time when I was 10, and Solonor Thalandira, Lord of the Forests, appeared before me.

"I sees. Did ya find what yeer’s looken fer?"

"In a way." Sil looked down, and took another swig of the cheap beer. That oh, so blessed, so cursed moment when the Lord of Forests came to me, and said, "My child, you are destined for things beyond your birth. Study my ways, for they will be your savior." They had been his downfall!

Val saw Sil’s look, and sensed some deep loss or sadness, and felt sorry he had probed where those on the streets almost never probed. "Sorry, friend."

"No, it’s OK." I began my study of the Forest way, at the only temple in town - it was there, in the vaults of their library, that I came across It. If only I could forget what is burned into my brain from that tome! Those evil words of flame, stripped away my innocence of childhood. My childhood was taken from me!

They sank their teeth into the stale, greasy bread and chewed a few bits of the roasted meat. Sil was thankful for what little food there was, as he had gone hungry many times before in the past few years. But the little narrative voice in his head continued with the story of his life, as it constantly did, over and over. Then, a little bright spot - my long lost grandmother Velter, who discovered me one day on an errand into a neighboring town. But that was strange - the way she knew me by my resemblance to my father, and the look in her eyes. "Feldenor, son of Beleor," she had said, and I turned. "Yes, Mother?" All older folk were addressed as Mother or Father as a sign of respect. "I am your father’s mother. I saw you last after your birth, but the time is right, as the gods have sent ye here. Come, child." And I had followed, and listened to her tale in private, learning about my family and why she had gone into hiding. And she had given me the gift, to be treasured always - the Hat of Disguise she had called it. "Put it on, and craft your appearance in your mind. It will alter how you appear to others. I know not when, or how, or why you will need it, but you will in the future. Do not use it lightly! It has great ability for mischief." Now, he used it almost constantly, for especially in Bibolos, it kept him from being recognized by his pursuers.

"I heerd there’s some good payin’ work on t’northwest edge of town. Mebbe we’s could go there t’morrow."

Sil grunted his assent. His narrative went on, reliving scenery and events. Then, admiring my father’s craft ability with metal, I took on apprenticeship as a cabinetmaker, learning the ways of construction. In my spare time, I continued my studies at the Temple of the Forest. Some of the jobs my teacher and I had sparked an interest in Heraldry and crests, family histories and political history. The furniture for the Duke, the mayor’s bedroom set, and others. And then had come along Dalphon. Beautiful Dalphon. We quickly became friends, Dalphon tall and skinny, Sil stocky and rounded. We were as opposite as could be, but we were inseparable. She was so beautiful, with her shiny ebony skin dark as night, kinky hair braided with beads. And when it was discovered that Dalphon followed the teachings of Kos, god of Doom, I was even more intrigued. I had to find out more, ever since that fateful day when I had found The Book in my temple, and the weeks that followed, reading every hideous word.

Sil now relied on his Hat to make himself look older, a little different of face, with scars and other markings so that they couldn’t find him. Why look in the city where he had fled? Sil hoped this was the last place they would look. His 2 years in the savanna, scraping a living from the barren steppe should have thrown them off the trail.

"Hmm?" he asked, realizing that Val was talking to him. Val was a talkative one, and it wouldn’t do to spend much more time with him.

"Ya seen Charoo aroun’? He been missin’ today."

"Nope. Mebbe went to look for the work you mentioned." I studied under the disciples of Kos, their arts of hand-to-hand combat, their ways, and then I heard that story. That dreadful, evocative story. And came across someone who worshipped Hades. And had to know if what The Book had said was true. So I followed that person to their secret temple, hidden by the dregs of the city.

"Heerd about trouble abrewin’ with the Sumad clan? Praps we canna go work down that away. Mebbe an attack."

"There’s always trouble with them." And that’s when it all happened. Wandering through the maze of corridors in the temple, I had come across that small room with a shrine to Hades. I scribed that mark just as shown in The Book, and the stone had melted! Melted in front of me, letting out a stench to choke the gods! I ran and ran, terror speeding my step, and heard those things behind me. I think I heard those things. The nightmares that night as I lay in bed, tossing, drenched in sweat on that hot night. And then I awoke and wished I hadn’t.

A sudden commotion across the room caught everyone’s attention. Another fight, this one not too interesting, so most went back to whatever they were doing. And the voice went on.

---

Something, a whisper of air, changing pressure in the room, perhaps the last, dying gasp of one of my brothers, and my already hyper-alert senses were tingling. I knew somehow they were there, hunting me down. As one entered my room, my staff ready, I knocked him down and fled through the window, the flicker of flames rising behind me. A quick glimpse in the moonlight had shown the mark of Hades underneath the upflung robe as the attacker fell backwards. A supernatural fear lent wings to my feet that night, and I fled into the sparse woods toward The River. Rumors had it that the disciples of Hades could summon the undead, and they could sense the blood of the living. The pain! The loss! My family no more! And it was all my fault! If only I hadn’t been curious, if only I hadn’t read The Book, if only...

"Y’allright?"

"No."

"What’s can I’s do?"

Sil was tempted to say, "Join me in battling Hades," but he got control of himself and shrugged. "Must be the food."

"Hmph," said Val.

---

But that wasn’t the worst! When I tried to find out if they were still alive, I came across the note left in the ruins of our house. Written by her hand. They had my precious Dalphon! They have my precious Dalphon, he corrected himself. And I will make them pay for that.

"Yup, perhaps we’ll look for work in the northwest tomorrow." Then I fled through the woods. It was there I came across the trapped panther, and feeling sorry for it, freed it, watching it bound away. And the next day, I found out the resourcefulness of the Hades assassins - they had a trap set, whereby I was trapped beneath a log. When two of them jumped me, I thought I was gone for sure. But just at the last moment, the panther showed up, slashing them from behind, disemboweling them with a blow of his great paws. It was then I discovered my way with the predators, and I had some hope that I could recover Dalphon somehow. Somehow. But what about my family? It’s all my fault...

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