Adrinal Lightheart
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The storm was relentless...but it was only the beginning...
Kneeling in the flood waters, a young boy. The wind and hail tearing at him like a swarm of insects. It was not the first storm that the boy had weathered, but it would be the one that he always remembered.
In the distance he could hear the sounds of anguish and screams that penetrated straight to his soul. He followed the sounds to a familiar place. Before him stood the great temple of Torm. The grand ornate doors of the temple were buckled in as if a great force had violently thrashed its way through. The boy approached the doors slowly. His heart pounded, his legs weakened, his breathes quickened. At this point the screams were deafening, coming from within the temple.
As the boy arrived at the door, a sinister and demonic voice directed itself in his direction, "Don't be shy boy, I have something you will want to see". The boy was paralyzed by fear, but had enough courage to peer through the doors. The temple was filled with the blood of the lifeless Tormites strewn across the pews and floors. Vile marking were cut into their flesh. Body parts decorated the once holy sanctum. Near the altar the boy could see movement, but the water in his eyes blurred his vision. He wiped the rain from his brow only to see his father strung up in the air with barbed wire. His wrists and ankles were wrapped and pulled violently in different directions. He hung there helpless, in agony.
Next to his father stood the evil creature that caused the bloodshed. The demon stood tall, skin and wings of the darkest black. It let out a twisted laugh as the boy entered the sanctuary. "Don't look so frightened, the fun has just begun", the demon said sadistically. "I am glad you made it in time before your father had to leave this world without seeing the pain in your eyes. His foolish faith has brought him here, and there is no one that will save him...not your weak god, not his followers, and certainly not you...no you will watch as the life is ripped out of him." The man looked down to his son. With all of his strength he spoke... "Torm has a purpose for us all...my fate has been decided Adrinal". With a deep breath, the man shouted with all of his strength "RUN!".
At that moment, the demon turned to Adrinal's father and with his black claws began ripping into his gut. Adrinal watched as his father's intestines were slowly removed from his stomach. His father cried out in pain, but soon the life drifted from his eyes. The screams turned into silence. Adrinal's fear turned into anger. Adrinal reached to the ground for a sword still being clenched by a fallen Tormite. He rushed toward the demon forgetting all fear, for in this moment there was only the overwhelming feeling of vengeance. But it was not vengeance that Adrinal would have that day...only mourning...
The demon reared its black wings and with one quick flap was sent airborne through the ceiling of the temple. The gust of air rushed towards Adrinal and sent him flying back into a pile of corpses knocking him unconscious. When Adrinal awoke, he was lying with his dead friends and family. Everything he ever knew or cared about was taken away from him in a heartbeat. That day he swore vengeance against that demon and all of its kind.
Adrinal soon moved from his ruined village. He had nothing left. He was only 7 years of age when he watched the life drift from his mother's eyes. The plague had taken her slowly. It was only 5 years later when he saw the life drift away from his father's eyes. He had nothing left in his village...no reason to stay. He travelled east and began again in a new town. It was there that he found fellow Tormites that began training him in the ways of the Paladins of Torm. He dedicated every waking hour to Torm, through prayer and training.
Adrinal had many memories of his family. His father used to tell him that the blood of a gold dragon ran through his blood. He would tell Adrinal stories of great wars between the Paladins of Torm and the devils of the nine hells. Adrinal always treated these conversations as mere bedtime stories. It wasn't until he had done research in the arcane arts later in life that he discovered the stories were true...
8 years after the massacre of the Tormites, Adrinal set out once more for a new place to call his home. He had heard of a town called Trinity in a distant land. He would go there and strengthen the name of his God in those lands. He travelled forth with sword and shield in hand. Ready to traverse whatever obstacles stood in his path. He would fight in the name of Torm...bring evil to its knees...and see retribution for what had happened to his fellow Tormites.
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