Epic of Kenbramesh

Kenbramesh faced his parchment, with quill in hand. His thoughts were muddled, by the most recent events. The village behind him had been set ablaze by the berzerker hordes of Marcado. The fire gave off enough light to allow him to pen a few words. As he dipped the quill into the small ink bottle, the screams of the villagers filled the air. He didn't mind this. Nothing seemed to shake him when he was preparing to write down his thoughts. The quill touched the rough parchment and begin to trace the familiar outlines of letters and from letters formed words.

"I Kenbramesh of sound mind and body care to write down my thoughts over the recent events that transpired in my recent home of Sargento. I had moved my family from Arbanye in hopes of finding respite and tranquility. In it's stead I founf nothing but tragedy.

That was a good start he thought to himself.

Kenbramesh corked his ink bottle, and folded up the parchment and quill. In the distance; sounds of warhorns. Sounds of a new battle that was yet over. He looked at his family who seemed ready for the fight.

Arndy The Artful: Skilled in the use of magics. It was said that with his skill and talent as a pictomage was beyond reproach.

Anyu Akim The Blowhard: The ex-wife and half banshee. Possessed vocal abilities that could charm the quietest beast or blow them away with the roar of a lion.

Corlenn the Tactician: Friend and comrade. Skilled in planning and application; though possessed the greater talent of humor to disarm his foes; though was known for being quite a layabout.

Sidhe Den the Purifier: The current wife and a skilled maiden in both combat and holy magic. Blessed with the innate ability to clense the scum of villany and evil, though she possessed a taint of it herself.

And the children

Lake the Aquatic: Daughter and wielder of aquamancy, though untrained and often used with disastrous effects.

Layam the Sketch: The daughter of Anyu, raised by Kenbramesh, but training in pictomagecy. Has great talent but often forgot the basics.

This was his family. Next to Anyu was Wyrmtunge Largisse; a cunning orcish female who seemed to whisper things in his ex wife's ear. Of what; he could not say, but he would have guessed that they were nothing good.

Kenbramesh looked down at his trusty weapon. A weather worn ax, forged by Ceres the Craftsman; a blacksmith from Roebuck. The weapon had served him well, and even with it's dull black mithril color; it had never failed him. This night would be no different.