PoE Builds

I breathed in and sighted down the shaft. I saw the smooth length of wood. I saw my fingers curling tightly around my bow. I saw the sharp tip of stone, notched and black. I saw the deer, unaware of its own approaching death.

My arrow took the deer through the eye. She died instantly. It was instant and painless action. The deer even didn't know I was there. And now I had enough meat for weeks. The forest would always provide for her own.

I carried the small doe home, and she would be useful. Meat, fur and antler, her death would keep me alive. I knew what Lady Talynn's guards were here for, as soon as their steps broke the forest's silence. I reached for my bow.

They called for me to leave my cottage, weaponless. They said they were here to arrest me, because I killed one of her ladyship's deer, which broke the law that Lady Talynn owns all lives on the land. I was tensed.

My first arrow soared through the open window and took the speaker through the heart. The others raised their shields and charged, intending to bash the door down and overwhelm me. My second arrow hit the foremost guard in the high, then I finished him off as he stumbled.

I released one last arrow, taking the first man through the door down, and then drew my leaf-bladed dagger. My cottage was so small that I had to fight them at the door. But they used spears and shields to force me back. I flung my dagger through their ranks, burying itself in someone's chest. I drew my sword. I flung myself at them, slashing and ducking. Guard after guard fallen to my blade, but more keep coming. I was backed into the corner. They rushed forward and took my sword. Finally, Talynn won.

They call me poacher and thief. Clap me in irons and haul me like cargo into exile. No matter. I'll make the forests and mountains of Wraeclast to be my new home. 

My freedom and my bow, these are all I need.

I felt the flames through a haze of sleep. My dreams ended in an inferno, one that I couldn't control. I woke abruptly, flinging the blankets off myself. Flames were everywhere. They had done it at last.

I ran from the room, throwing my cloak over my shoulders. Did they think they could succeed? That I would take their abuse quietly? They would pay. I promised myself deep in my heart. They finally crossed the line and crossed over which they cannot retreat.

I watched until his houses exploded into flames, and fierce pleasure burning inside of me as I had revenge successly for his crimes against me. He was the one who spreaded these rumors and lied about me. And now he paid for them. Despite the horribly cold weather, four houses had burned in the past two months. They thought it was ill luck.  Actually, it was not. I cast the fire to the forest and I summoned the flames. It was by my will that they suffer, as they made me pain previously.

I wonder if they regret it. With my aid, burns would heal in hours, cuts in moments. The illness that had struck the village would have been cured instead of leaving half the villagers trapped in their homes, weak and disoriented. I could have tamed the flames before they burned too high to control, and I could have lessened the bitter cold. But they cast me out. And now I have my revenge.

The lord's militia! The cursed people happen to call in the guard. Hands grab me, and swords prick me. I let the laugh escape, ignoring everything but my revenge. They would pay, I said, and they would! Plague, flame, shadow, frost! Make them quake in fear and pain, turn their cowardice into terror. They would be afflicted and cursed due to their early acts. They draged me away, but I could not stop laughing. They were right to fear me. They were right…

Now I am banished to Wraeclast. I've heard the dark rumours and seen the terror in other exiles' eyes. But to me one land is like any other. The elements are my allies. The dead are my servants. And fear will be my closest friend.

I stood in the sand, and blade was raised over my head, blood dripping down the blade onto my tightly clenched hand. The crowd's cheers washed over me as I basked in the glory of my hard victory. I closed my eyes and enjoyed their screaming of my name. This was life, exhilarated, fame, and glory which was life only for one like me.

I sat at my table, quietly enjoying my wine, ignoring my two companions and toasting my victory. The door opened with a bang. Lord Talynn entered, and his guards glared at anyone they deemed too close to his noble hogness. I allowed myself one derisive glare before ignoring him.

Lord Talynn dominated the inn. His guards roughly shoved several other men out of their seats because Talynn wanted more room to himself.

I fingered the hilt of my sword, thoughts turning, like my companions, to the duel. It had been close, that battle, far closer then I would ever admit. He called me a cheater, a fraud, and claimed I had sabotaged my opponent. He thought that his reputation would protect him and those who backed him would intimidate me. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

The guards were beaten with blood. My blade, slick with the blood of his protectors, whips past his ear. He raised a hand as if to protect himself, calling out again and again for someone to stop me. People were fleeing into the inn desperately to get away themselves from the scene. Talynn was begging then, dignity forgotten in his terror. I silenced his lying tongue forever.

When they arrived, Lord Talynn had dead at my feet, and they attempted to take me. My sword, friend through a thousand fights, was wrenched from my grasp and snapped against the stone floor. And then they overwhelmed me.

I care naught for riches, little for friendship. The duel is all I need. I may be an exile, but I will carve a road back to Oriath, one foe, one victory at a time. Fortune may have banished me to Wraeclast, but I will live to hear them scream my name in the great arenas again.

Assassin, killer, hunter, black blade, whisper. Death. I like these names.

So many names are called for me by people, but I call myself Shadow. Darkness is my ally, and the night is my friend. I am invisible in the darkness, nothing but shadow, until the moment when I claim another life. Nobody I have killed has ever seen my face. A footstep, a breath, a flash of silver or a shift of darkness is all the warning they have before the all-consuming blackness of death. And those who fall prey to my traps never live long enough to see when I come to recover them.

What I need are the challenge of the kill and the satisfaction of the perfect execution of the plan. Money is a weak motivator. It serves only to distract those that rely upon it. I use it only as a way to determine the value my employers place on the kill.

A plan made, an unheard stalk, a single swift strike, and my real fee is already paid.

I crept up on the target. It was so close that I could hear the almost silent breathing. A single man, few servants, and fewer guards tgought it would be stopped? My dagger lunged into his heart accurately and then, I was gone. I never missed.

My entrance scared them, which made me smile, even my employers feared me. I drop the amulet I took from the neck of my victim and drop it on his desk. He looked at it for a moment, and then congratulated me on the assassination and suggested a toast, gesturing to a bottle of wine on his desk. I glanced out the window, I had another appointment tonight. But… that's not for another thirty minutes. I looked back at my employer and accept.

After all, how long can one drink take?

They raised a toast for a job well done. I drank and the next thing I knew I was on this stinking crate bound for exile. It was not a complete loss, I supposed. The way I heared it, there would be plenty of work for a man of my talents on Wraeclast.

Terror. Utter, consuming terror. I scowl and bring my axe down, putting an end to the shameful fear in the clanless's eyes.

They are all weak. They glanced at me, hoping to find a clanless yet unclaimed. My brothers and sisters have done well and have brought glory to their houses on a perfect night.

We returned victoriously to our village. Our trophies were great from this battle, many weapons, broken and unbroken, and tokens from the fallen clanless. The joy of the deaths of the weak, so sweet. I breathe it in, closing my eyes.

I awaked in darkness. Death was on the wind. I rose and curled a hand around the handle of my axe. A howl of rage and pain shattered the deathly silence. I know it was definitely their revenge. I lift my axe. One invader after another fell into the ground. My blood boiled within me as I saw how few of my clan were left to fight. So many had fallen to the clanless' cursed coward-blades, never to wake. I charged the clanless, and a roar of rage my battle cried. Death shall claim them!

A chain wraps around my heels nearly made me fall. My axe smashed the links, then the clanless who threw them. But more were coming trying to subdue me. I fling off their cold steel chains and cut through their ranks, axe never still, sending them to my silent brother for their fear. I was yanked backwards. I flung out an arm to stop my fall, but more chains caught on my ankles and arms. I struggled to free myself, but they just kept piling on. Never surrender, never give in.

And then… there was nothing but darkness.

Death is my brother. I do not fear him. I see him in the eyes of the men and beasts that I kill. I feel him traveling beside me to this new land, this Wraeclast. He will take me to meet the gods when I am ready.

I am not ready.

Noble? Or Humble?

It is me who is chosen to control the massive mysterious power from darkness. I have been chained up long. But the physical cage will no longer confine me. My brillian talent will break through it.

I know how they have treated me. A young aristocrat, with enviable family and a pre-adorned puppet, a product for sale. People look at me fawningly, and praise my appearance, my dress, my hairstyle. I know how they made fun of me. The voice deep in my heart bellow loudly to show the fatuous person your brave, your strength and your intelligence.

Blood is the congratulatory flame, dazzling and pleasant. Finally, I cut off the strings on the eve of wedding day. The eve would become the big day instead of the next day. My dream realized. The smell of blood is so fragrant. It is the freedom that breeze the fresh air. My dress, white before but now scarlet, is my best tabard. The upcoming wedding in Fei o Pulos has no start.

Life would not be more worse. I have uncovered the mask of Noble. Their reckless laugh seems to remind me of my disappearing glory——They regard it as the glory, but actually a hypocritical mask for me. The next exile to Wraeclast what they frighten to mention as the place of death, but I call it a jamboree, which is the bed of my rebirth.

Here comes my friends, different from my former peers who keep up with the Joneses all the day. The distingue soul points a way to the marvelous achievement in the name of light. Also, a despicable horde teaches me how to prolong my last gasp in the deep dark world. Sparks surround the fingers of the witch, dazzling as stars glimmer. In my eyes, they have no differences. We all live in miserable land and pursue the incessant illumination. We all keep a decayed body in search for almighty freer of the soul.

Unrecognizable.

Clearer mind, faster learner, deeper dream. I am invincible. 

Malachai, you will pay for it.